A/N: Wrote this at 5 in the morning. I'll fix any mistakes later on. I just, I wanted a scene when Mickey went home. Enjoy.
It had been hours now, since Mickey saw Ian walk into that psych ward, yet he was still so shaken. The Gallagher's had to practically drag him away from the gated hallway. It wasn't until he felt the small Gallagher, Carl, tug at his shirt that he left. He was silent on the drive, his mind spinning and body numb. The thought of Ian in there all alone, it made his stomach knot in a disgusting way. He wanted to puke, to expel all of these damn feelings. He didn't know how to handle feeling like this, helpless, scared, angry, and so fucking relieved all at the same time. It wasn't in the Milkovich way. Then again, maybe it was good that a Milkovich was finally starting to feel something.
After his mother had died, he remembered how his father was. He didn't cry. No, he didn't grieve, or at least on the outside. Terry Milkovich is a lot of things, but he loved Mickey's mother. He had to give him that. His brothers, Mandy and him all lived in fear of him after she died. He'd beat the crap out of any one of them if they even dared mention her name. Their own mother had become a forbidden topic in the house. They weren't allowed to grieve for their loss, because it was weakness. Milkovich's aren't weak. Except. They are. They're so terrified of the world around them, and it's so blatantly obvious.
Maybe if Terry had felt something. Let himself grieve, maybe, just maybe he wouldn't be as bad as he was now. Maybe Mickey would have his father back. It wasn't going to happen though, and with him out of the closet now, he was sure the next time he saw Terry there would be a shiv with his name on it. He sat alone now. Yev was asleep with Svetlana, and Iggy was out getting the cash to pay the towing bill to get the car back. Mickey's mind drifted to Iggy. Fuck. He never thought Iggy would be like this after he came out. As siblings they were always close, but not as close as he and Mandy were.
Iggy had always been the one to get shit done when it needed to be, following in their father's footsteps the best he could. So, when he had found out Mickey was gay, it was a surprise he accepted it so well. All he did was toss Mickey a beer and lit a cigarette. Normal. Like nothing had changed. Mickey needed that in his life, and he was glad Iggy was there to give him some semblance of normal. With Mandy gone, he felt like he was going crazy, but Iggy was helping. Iggy always helped.
At that Mickey's attention turned up, the Milkovich in question come through the door, "Got the car back." he said with a surprisingly soft voice, probably because Mickey's face was streaked with tears. The distraught brother quickly rubbed away the wet tracks and nodded once, "Filled up the tank and everything, so it'll be good to go for tomorrow."
"What's tomorrow?" Mickey asked, taking a long swig from the piss warm beer in front of him, trying to act normal. Iggy made a face and took the beer away from Mickey and got a new one from the fridge. Drink a warm beer was like some kind of crime. If his brother was going to drink, it was at least going to be a cold one.
"I figured you go see Ian." he said, flopping down by his younger brother, his gaze careful. He didn't like how tired he looked, or how his hands were shaking. Anyone would be a little riled up after all of this though, it was only normal. Iggy sighed at that though, shit, if this was their normal they were pretty fucked up. Mickey took a slow sip of the cold beer, grateful that he was given another one considering how he had to answer Iggy.
"Nah, can't fuckin' go." he said bitterly, spatting out the words like they were laced in poison, "The fucktards their have some seventy-two hour policy. Can't go see him until after that...he has to be all alone in that shithole until then." those words had Mickey tearing up, and he picked up the beer, downing it in one shot. He couldn't do this. He couldn't keep thinking about Ian being in there, it was killing him. It was absolutely tearing the younger Milkovich apart. This was his fault after all, wasn't it? He should have gotten Ian help when he saw that he wasn't well. He didn't want to believe his partner was this sick though, he wanted to pretend everything was just fine. They were a happy little family. Him, Ian, Yev and fuck, even Svetlana. He had come to respect her as the mother of his child, but they still fought more than they should.
"Mick, Jesus-" Iggy reached out, seeing his brother crumbling in front of his very eyes. Mickey hadn't even realized that he was barely breathing, choking on frustrated sobs. He wanted Ian back. He wanted his sister back. He wanted things to go back to normal. Was that so much to ask? How much shit was he supposed to go through before he shattered completely? Mickey Milkovich could take so much, but he was only human and he even forgot that sometimes. Iggy reached out, draping an arm around Mickey's shoulder and just pulled him a little closer.
It reminded the older Milkovich of when they were kids, Mickey was always a scrappy, scrawny little shit, but he had a big heart. He remembered this one particular time, Colin and Jamie had killed a bird Mickey was trying to catch as it hobbled around on an injured leg. Mickey cried for days, and Iggy had to carry him inside and lock him in their room so Terry didn't see. Iggy had to be the one to tell Mickey that he couldn't act like that, or their father would give him a reason to cry. Mickey was only five. After that, Mickey hadn't cried. No, he made sure of it.
Iggy had always blamed himself for emotionally stunting his younger brother, despite what many thought. Iggy wasn't stupid. He wasn't the best in school, hell, he had dropped out, but he was far from stupid. Iggy knew the world. He knew how it worked, and he knew how much is sucked. He had wanted to do nothing more than support and protect his siblings. Mandy was gone, so Mickey was the one he had to focus on right now.
"Listen..." Iggy started, "This fuckin' sucks man. It fuckin' sucks that a kid like Ian got the short end of the damn gene pool, but he's smart. He'll get this help, okay? He'll wise up, and he won't let you down this time. I believe that." he shook Mickey a bit, "You hear me? He's family, and I will be fuckin' damned if I let another person in this family slip away from us." Mickey brow furrowed at that and his head craned up to stare at his older brother like he had six heads.
"I'm cryin' like a fuckin' girl..." Mickey grumbled out, taking a deep breath and digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes, " I just...I should have told him I loved him, ya know? I should have just fuckin' said it when he first asked me. M-Maybe..." God, his voice was breaking, "He wouldn't have run off. He wouldn't have gotten that shit job. He wouldn't have gone off the deep end. It's my fuckin' fault. It's all my fault, and I can't forgive myself." Iggy didn't like hearing this, his chest aching as he clung tighter to his little brother. He could just see that scared little kid again.
"Bi-polar is all sorts of unpredictable...I did some research. Meaning, I Googled it, but anyways-" he didn't want to get off topic, "That disease can like seriously fuck with a person, and if it wasn't this it would have been something else to set him off, Mick. It could have happened at anytime. You two have a fucked up pasted, but you guys have a future too." Iggy paused, wanting a smoke about now. All of this emotion was draining, he didn't know how Mickey did it. "You did everything you could have done, you didn't know shit would get this bad. None of us did, or we would have taken care of Ian sooner. You know that."
Iggy smiled a little, "Gallagher's are like cockroaches man, you can't kill them. They have this inhuman way of getting back up. You remember how many times we'd knock around that brother of his and that bastard would get right back up. Ian's the same, he'll never really leave you."
That made Mickey laugh, a throaty, hiccuping laugh, but a small smile was on his cracked lips none the less, "Fuck...you're right." he laughed again, shaking his head, "Fuckin' Gallagher. He's fucked me up."
Iggy shook his head at that, "Nah, man...I think that Gallagher has been good for you. You're more of a man than any other fuckin' Milkovich. You know that, right?" Mickey snorted at the comment and shook his head, he was done with all this sappy shit for the night. He yawned, shrugging out of his other's hold, and leaned back against the worn sofa.
"Yeah well...that's not sayin' much, we didn't have a great role model to base that off." Mickey closed his eyes, exhaustion weighing down on his shoulders, "Iggy?"
"What?" the other muttered out, feeling a little better now that Mickey was through crying.
"I need one more favor from you." the brother's lulled their heads to the side to look at one another once more. Iggy just nodded, he'd do anything and Mickey knew that, "Can you trail the younger Gallagher? That kid is going to get into some deep shit if he's not careful, he's a good kid, he doesn't need to go down the same path we did.
"The black one?" Mickey groaned, making a face. Oh, Iggy.
"No, not the fuckin' two year old. Carl, the one with the bust leg. He's dealin'. Just trail him for a few days? I couldn't help one Gallagher in time, let's see if we can keep this one from fuckin' up." Not that Ian fucked up, but Mickey liked Carl. The kid had spunk, and he was smarter than he looked. Besides, it was Ian's brother, which made it Mickey's family. Family fucking sticks together.
"Not a problem." Iggy grinned, "I'll be like James Bond or some shit." he said with a toothy smile, causing Mickey to let out a frustrated noise.
"James Bond didn't spy on kids..."
"So?" He said with a shrug, rolling his eyes before speaking one last time, "He knows you love him, by the way."
Mickey's gaze snapped back up to Iggy's and he nodded once, "I hope so..."