Ian woke up with a pounding headache. He hadn't remembered being this hung over in a long time. Usually he avoided drinking heavily since it affected his meds, but he supposed that Mickey had always managed to bring out the reckless side of him. Yet another reason they were bad for each other. Ian began to sit up and heard papers crumple beneath his leg. Blearily he stared at them until his brain began to register what was in front of him. It was the divorce papers. And very clearly there was a signature on the page. Mickey had finally signed the papers. Papers Ian had been begging him to sign for five years. There was a stirring of nostalgia as Ian realized it was over. He was free to marry Linus as soon as he mailed these papers and they were filed. He didn't have any reason to stay now. And then the guilt came crashing down on him. All those cruel words he had directed at Mandy and even Mickey...Mickey who had been kind enough to bring him home even after he threw up in the other's car. Mick who had finally signed the goddamn papers... Ian wanted to throw up, and not just because of the hang over.

Somehow, Ian managed to find his way downstairs just in time to see Gus leaving for a rehearsal. He watched the older man kiss his sister on the forehead before leaving, saying some kind words under his breath. Ian smiled, he couldn't wait to have something like that when he married Linus. Then he looked over on the couch. Curled up beneath a tiny knit blanket was a sleeping Frank.

"Christ. How am I going to explain you to New York," sighed Ian under his breath. "Why did you even let this drunk in anyway?"

Fiona turned before letting out a sigh. "He was at the Alibi til closing and refused to leave. Police dragged him back here since legally this is his house."

"Fuck. I'm sorry Fiona," Ian said.

Fi gave a wry smile. "I think by now I'm used to dealing with drunk Gallaghers...although it's not a very attractive trait."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to get so wasted," Ian explained.

"Are you going to apologize?"

"What?"

Fi smiled sympathetically. "Another thing I know about Gallaghers is we aren't always so good at maintaining relationships. Vee told me some of things you said at the Alibi last night. None of it sounded good Ian."

Ian's shoulders dropped even farther. "Guess it was pretty shitty of me."

Fiona put her hand on his face remembering the boy she had raised. "The world doesn't need anymore Franks, Ian. Even if you chose to stay in New York."

Ian nodded. Stuffing the envelope into his pocket he promised his sister he would be back later. He had some apologies to see to, but first there were a few errands. He chose to walk, because the air helped clear his head. He went back into the city stopping by both the bank and the post office. While he was there he was reminded of a conversation he had had with Gus the other day. The other man had said something about how their neighborhood was the next up and coming place? Ian highly doubted that...and yet then again as he walked through town he passed a Starbucks that hadn't been there five years ago. Not to mention a yoga studio just down the block. Gentrification at its finest. He was sure Frank hated it, which made him want to love it...but he couldn't quite bring himself to.

But as he approached Mickey's home he felt some apprehension grow in his stomach. No one was home, so he decided to sit on the stoop and wait for Mickey to return. It wasn't long before the other strolled up to the house. Uncertainly Ian rose.

"Thought you woulda left by now," Mickey said walking past him to the front door.

"I put the money back in your account."

"Thanks, save me the effort of bouncing a lot of checks," Mickey said, pausing at his door.

Ian just nodded.

"I like it Firecrotch. What you did to the place," Mickey elaborated. "Should help it sell quicker. Saves me the effort of-"

"You're moving?" Ian felt like the world was spinning away from him. Mickey couldn't move, he lived here in Canaryville.

"Been spending a lota my time in Northside, would save me the trouble of commuting on the L everyday," Mickey shrugged. "Look, Ian, I signed your papers..."

"Mick. I never meant to say those awful things. I didn't mean them," Ian said. "I was drunk, and I'm sorry. I just wanted to stop by and say thanks."

"Look I gotta go," Mickey said making as if to go into his house.

"You can't leave."

"Sure I can," Mickey gave him a heartbreaking smile. "I may be ghetto trash...but doesn't mean I gotta stay here my whole life. Come with me. There's something I want to show you."

"I can't," Ian replied.

"Can't or won't?" Mickey asked peering into Ian's eyes.

"Both, I guess," Ian sighed.

"The boy I knew used to be fearless," Mickey sounded nostalgic.

"The boy you knew didn't have a life," Ian said a bit hotly.

"Better get on with it then," Mickey said he sounded sad and resolute, and Ian wasn't sure which was worse.

After that Ian sent a text to Mandy asking to meet her at the Alibi. It wasn't a number he had used in years, and he just hoped that it still worked. Almost instantly a reply came in.

'Sure, ten minutes?'

Ian replied, and began walking back to the bar where everything had gone wrong. It didn't take him long to get there, and he found Mandy seated at the bar. She looked wary and uncertain, but there must be a part that was willing to here him out since she had agreed to meet with him.

"Look, I know people who I could ask to kill you," Mandy started glaring at him. "And I don't think I would come to your funeral."

"Don't really blame you," Ian said softly, "guess I forgot how beautiful and tough you were.".

"Shut up," Mandy said, falling back on to the way her brain immediately assumed that no one would think her anything more than a ghetto skank. And then softly she added, "guess it doesn't take a lot to forget a lot things."

"Mands, it's not like that," Ian said just as quietly.

"I'll tell you what it's not like," Mandy said, her glare was back. "It's not like Mickey was the only one you ran out on."

"I'm sorry, about all those horrible things I said about you. And your family," Ian said earnestly. "I guess I thought if I was pointing at you, then nobody would see through me."

Mandy just stared at Ian, wondering how so much had changed from the boy she had left in her brother's caring arms. Her phone went off and quickly she read the text. "I gotta go."

Dejectedly Ian watched her leave. "Bye."

Ian slumped down over the bar, not paying attention to the newcomer who had just entered.

"Hi does anyone here know the address of an Ian McBryan?" asked the stranger.

Ian felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He tensed up before turning. But before he could get another word out he was interrupted by Vee who was behind the bar. "Well aren't you in luck. Ian McBryan is right here!"

She had heard every word Ian had said to Mandy, and she took pity on the boy. Not to mention she knew all about Ian's pen name, figuring that he was ashamed of his past and wasn't eager to share it. She also knew that the drunks around this place would deny there being a McBryan since he was in fact made up, and that that could blow his cover. Ian shot her grateful look.

"Hi, that would be me," Ian started awkwardly. "Can I help you?"

The man was thin and had a camera around his neck, notepad in hand. "Thank god. Barry Lowenstein, New York Post. Glad to see you. It's definitely a different world down here...They told me you would be in Chicago, I just didn't think it would be the trashy parts."

"Did you say the post?" Ian was shocked.

"I was hoping to get an interview with you and your family. Maybe a few pictures?" offered the reporter.

Ian looked to Vee, in the hopes that she might have something wise to interrupt with.

"And what? You thought you would find his family here in a Southside bar?" she asked.

"Well," the reporter started delicately.

"The McBryans don't live in Southside," Vee said.

"And how would you know?" one of the locals cried out.

Vee rolled her eyes.

"Can I talk to Mr. McBryan for a moment?" Vee dragged him to the back.

"Thank you so much-" started Ian.

"I'm not saying you should break the law, but remember that old fling of yours that lived Northside?" Vee said hurriedly.

"Jimmy's father?" Ian hadn't thought about him in years.

Vee nodded. "I know for a fact that the house is empty this week. Tony and Iggy were talking about busting in and cleaning the place out. I'm sure the Lishmans won't mind you borrowing the place for the day."

Ian thanked her profusely before leading the reporter away.

"So what were you doing in the ghetto?" the reporter asked.

"Visiting some old friends," muttered Ian, keeping it at that.

They got in the reporter's car, since Ian had walked to the bar, and Ian sat behind the wheel. He drove them both towards the north end to the address that he hadn't been to since Mickey got shot in the ass. It was also the place where Mickey had kissed him the first time.

"Is everything alright?" the reporter asked.

Ian was just looking at the driveway nostalgically, a small smile on his face. "This was a bad idea. I don't think anyone is home..."

Already the reporter was getting out of the car. "Wow. It must have been amazing growing up here."

"Like a fantasy," Ian said weakly, following behind him.

"Would you mind if I take a quick look inside?" the reporter asked.

"I don't think that's a good idea-"

"I'll come back then? Sometime more convenient for you?"

Ian's eyes widened. "Now is good. We can make now work."

Ian dragged the man behind him, praying that Vee was right and no one was home. He began showing off the rooms in a hurry labeling them as he went. Suddenly there was a noise from the back room causing Ian to panic.

"And here," he whispered, "we have a closet."

Hastily he dragged the reporter in behind him.

"Why are we whispering?" asked the reporter.

"We always whispered in the closet. It was a game we had. My siblings and I. We called it Whisper in the Closet...it was like hide and seek," Ian added lamely.

He exited the closet and found himself walking into none other than Mandy Milkovich.

"Ian?" there was a slight smirk on her face, "what are you doing in the closet?"

There was no way for Ian to explain that this was no time for jokes so he just thought an aggravated look at Mandy.

"And who is this?" asked Lowenstein looking the girl up and down.

Mandy put on a smile. "I'm Ian's sister-in-law."

"I wasn't aware of any of Ian's family being married," the reporter began.

Ian felt the panic start to close in.

Mandy laughed, "Lip doesn't like to talk much about it. The fact that he's related to this idiot. But yeah, I'm Lip's wife."

"Lip?" asked Lowenstein.

"My brother, Philip McBryan," Ian added smoothly.

"And who are they?" the reporter asked looking at the two boys behind Mandy.

"They're some movers. Lip wanted some of his things moved into our apartment so I came to oversee the task since none of the family would be here," Mandy continued to lie smoothly. "And what are you doing here? Ian?"

"Lowenstein here wanted a tour, think we can manage that? Sis?"

Mandy grinned. "Oh yeah."

She was a much better liar than Ian, and so she was in charge of leading the tour. Ian just nodded and agreed with everything she said. She made up a fascinating history of the house, as well as plenty of memorable childhood memories that were all false. Lowenstein ate it out of her palm. After about an hour they were done, and the reporter left.

Mandy turned on him, a smile wide on her face. "Well aren't you just a big fat liar."

And that's when Ian knew everything was alright between the two of them again.

"Come on loser," Mandy said. "Help us load up some of this shit."

Ian rolled his eyes, but figured it was the least he could do since Mandy had spent the whole afternoon lying for him. It was good to have his best friend back.

"You better plan on giving me a ride back to Southside," Ian laughed.

Mandy rolled her eyes. "We'll see. Depends how useful you turn out to be."

Ian shook his head and followed her back into the empty house.

Please leave a review or comment! They make my day. Also I'm pretty sure the rating is going to change because of future chapters, but we'll see. Let me know how I'm doing. Thanks for the support so far it means a lot. ~T.W.o.W.