Mickey made a habit of sharing Ian's hospital bed at night. Ian always held him like he was something breakable and maybe in some way Mickey was fragile. Sometimes it felt like he was teetering on the edge of. . . something. He just didn't know what.

The weirdest thing though was how much he found he enjoyed waking up to Ian holding him. Ian was almost always awake first and Mickey would be pulled from unconsciousness by the gentle stroke of a thumb over his tattooed knuckles or breath whispering across his cheek as Ian pressed closer, like he was just drinking in the sight of Mickey, the smell of him.

The best mornings though were when Mickey woke up first. Then he could just watch Ian, with his eyelids flickering like secrets were trying to escape from underneath them and his lips ever so slightly apart, the hiss of air loud in the silent room. In those moments, Mickey could press his ear to Ian's chest and match the pace of his breathing to the beat of Ian's heart. He'd wrap his arms tighter around the redhead, pressing his fingers into the pale flesh like if he didn't, Ian would suddenly disappear.

In those moments, when Ian looked more innocent and child-like than any person had a right to be, Mickey just wanted to protect him. He wanted to turn into a complete caveman and throw Ian over his shoulder, hiding him away where the rest of the world couldn't hurt him, see him or judge either of them. In the early hours of the meaning when all Mickey could hear, see and smell was Ian, he let his feelings out for a brief moment, pretended like it didn't matter what he felt, that he could admit it. And then, when he heard the slight hitch in Ian's breathing and the mumble he gave before waking, Mickey would drag it all back in, let it fill his hollow heart up with meaning and lock it away so that the rest of the world couldn't ruin it.

Because his feelings were his and his alone, his biggest secret, so much so that even Gallagher didn't really know about them.

And it was so nobody could catch him out, nobody could suspect anything that he got out of the bed before the nurses did their rounds, before someone could come in and moved into the chair beside Ian, ready to pretend that was where he'd spent the entire night. He wondered how many people actually bought his little act, the one where he still pretended he didn't really give much of a shit.

He knew that if he found out the answer, he would probably wind up doing something fucking stupid. He was glad he didn't know.

Mickey was playing with his peace of gum when Tony walked in. He was holding one end in his teeth and seeing how far out he could stretch it before it snapped. He was bored. Ian was watching some shitty program about fishing boats or something stupid like that and he looked so interested that even Mickey didn't quite have the heart to tell him to turn it the fuck off. Besides, he worked out that it wouldn't be much longer before it ended.

It didn't matter anymore though, because the moment Tony walked into the room, Ian tensed up and switched off the television, leaving the room in silence. Nobody said anything for a minute, not even when Fiona walked in after the officer and unable to stand it, Mickey starting chewing the gum, loudly.

Fiona glared at him, but Ian cracked a smile so that made it sort of worth it.

Tony nodded to them both, not looking at all surprised to see Mickey there as he went to stand at the food of the bed while Fiona took a seat on the opposite side of Ian to Mickey. "Shouldn't he leave for this?" she asked, jerking a thumb towards him and Ian's muscles bunched up and his fingers gripped the bed sheet. You could have cut the tension with a knife, but Tony seemed completely unaware of this.

He shook his head. "Not if Ian wants him here," he said, "After all, Mickey is the only reason I'm actually delivering good news right now." He smiled at Mickey like he needed his fucking praise, but Mickey wasn't stupid enough to say anything that would get him kicked out of the room.

Fiona scowled, obviously having forgotten Mickey's little part in actually finding the people who had done this to Ian. He wondered if she'd intentionally blocked that information out of her mind because it made it easier to hate him.

"Now a trial's been organised for a week tomorrow," Tony explained and Mickey wished Ian would relax slightly, because it was making him nervous. It looked like Ian was about to leap out of the bed any second. Not that it was actually possible, but still. "I'm afraid Ian, you will have to testify, but we have pretty substantial evidence to prove they did it, so they won't be getting out of jail time for this one."

"The bat," Mickey said before he could stop himself, almost feeling sick at the memory of seeing that bat just lying there for anyone to see. They all looked at him in surprise and he could see the question in Ian's eyes. "They were too fucking stupid to think to get rid of the baseball bat they used," he explained, his voice dead sounding, just like it had been that day when he'd rung Tony, "It was covered in your blood."

He dug his nails into the palms of his hands, trying to drag up some semblance of control.

Tony nodded. "That's right," he said, "It did complicate things slightly that it had some of Jason O'Connor's blood on and other fingerprints, but Jason's broken leg explained that there wasn't a third party involved in Ian's attack and the brothers are refusing to press charges concerning who beat them up."

Mickey smiled and it wasn't a very nice smile.

"They're under the impression they'll wind up dead if they do say who it was, but just to warn you that part of the incident may be dragged up in court."

"Trust me, they're going to wish they were fucking dead when they get to fucking jail," Mickey said, unable to stop the words, needing for some stupid fucking reason, Ian to know how far he would take this for him.

He was pleased when Ian smiled slightly.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear that," Tony said, but he looked satisfied for some reason, like he too wanted something worse to happen to the bastards who'd done this. "As I was saying though," he said, moving on quickly, "They're going to have to ask you what happened and you just have to be as honest as you can, because what you say will depend on the length of time that they're in there for."

Mickey thought it went without saying that if they ever got out and he knew about it, he'd fucking kill them. He didn't care if he was forty, fifty or a hundred when they got out, he'd still kill them.

Ian smiled at him like he could hear Mickey's thoughts, but his heart really wasn't in that smile. It seemed more sad than anything else.

"Do you think you can do that, Ian?" Tony asked, his eyes wide, pitying and Mickey wanted to punch him. Problem was he already had first-hand experience of what happened when you punched a cop in the face. It wasn't fun. "Do you think you can explain to a crowd of people what happened, exactly what happened?"

Mickey knew his words were supposed to be reassuring, but he thought they were only making it sound worse.

Ian chewed his bottom lip and looked almost like he was about to cry. "I don't know," he admitted, taking a deep breath and glancing over at Mickey, like he could do a fucking thing about this situation, "But I don't really have a choice do I, I have to do it, so I'll have to be able to."

And he hated the fact, but Mickey was actually ridiculously proud of Ian in that moment. He could tell Fiona was too as she reached out to take Ian's hand in hers. Tony nodded and he looked sort of proud too.

Mickey didn't know how he was supposed to be reacting in their eyes, so he just sat back a little more and blew a bubble with his gum. It popped loudly and Ian looked at him with a smile, seeming to relax the tiniest bit.

"Why's it taken so long for the trial to happen?" Fiona asked, being the responsible one with the important questions, "I mean, I would have thought it would have been sooner than this, you caught them pretty quick."

Tony nodded, fiddling with his hat.

"Well, there's not really any doubt they did it as I said," he explained, "But it wasn't possible to take the case to court with Ian being in the condition he was in and Jason O'Connor also had to have major surgery on one of his knees and Carl was in intensive care for two weeks due to the hits he'd taken to the head and they think he'd hit his head on the floor when he went down." He shrugged, obviously not really caring. "Either way they had to wait until the brothers were in their right minds and it only just became possible to transport Jason with his leg the way it is anyway."

Mickey couldn't help but feel pleased with himself. He hadn't thought he'd done that much damage, but he had been a little bit out of it. He only really remembered punching Carl a hell of a lot and hitting Jason with the baseball bat they'd used on Ian.

"You really did beat them up," Ian said, sounding a little incredulous, but he sounded pleased too.

Mickey snorted, "You actually doubted me?"

He would have been offended if he was the type to ever get offended over anything.

"Never," Ian said and Mickey had to look away because Gallagher was looking at him in that stupid fucking way he sometimes did that made Mickey uncomfortable. "Can Mickey be there on the day?" Ian asked, "I want him to be there."

Mickey did notice that Ian wasn't asking him if he actually wanted to be there, but he supposed it was sort of like the boxer thing. Mickey didn't have to ask to borrow them because he already knew the answer and it would just be a waste of words. It was the same case here, but it never failed to freak Mickey out that Ian knew him quite that well. He didn't like the idea that he was becoming predictable.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mickey saw Fiona tense and that made him smirk.

"Yeah that shouldn't be a problem," Tony said, apparently oblivious to the looks the eldest Gallagher child was giving him, which was a new one. Normally the cop was fawning over Fiona like there was no tomorrow. Maybe he'd finally come to realise that he was just too nice and dependable for any Gallagher to ever take an interest in him. "It might even work in your benefit if the O'Connor brothers see he's there," he added, looking at Mickey, "You seem to have them scared out of their minds, so much so that it's rumoured their even pleading guilty."

Mickey smirked. Good, he thought. "You'd be surprised how far the Milkovich name'll get you in this town," he said, kicking his feet up onto the bed and letting his foot rest against Ian's thigh. He couldn't hold his hand in comfort like Fiona was doing, but he knew that subtle touch had pretty much the same effect. He could tell in the way Ian relaxed back into the pillows.