The morning after Terry's wake at the Alibi dawned in sweltering heat, like every other day for the past few months. Ian, who lacked a bed at the Gallagher house, seeing as it belonged to Mandy now, had woken up early after a restless few hours tossing and turning on the couch.
He'd been hoping for some quiet time, give him a chance to catch his breath and ponder his unhappy return home, but no such luck. It seemed as though Fiona had been lying in wait - as soon as she heard Ian moving around, she and Lip both sprung out from nowhere. He should have expected it, he supposed - he'd faked being asleep when she came home the night before, and he knew she was worried.
Now the three of them were in the kitchen, Fiona making breakfast as quietly as possible, hoping not to wake the rest of the household before she dragged out every single tidbit of Ian's sorry tale of woe.
There was a long, strained silence in the Gallagher kitchen when Ian was done speaking. Fiona and Lip exchanged a long look from where they sat across the breakfast bar from their younger brother.
"Jesus, would someone please say something?" Ian finally demanded. "I know I fucked up, ok? Let me have it - I can take it."
"Mandy? You fucked Mandy?!" Lip burst out.
Both Ian and Fiona stared at Lip, shocked by the rising vehemence of his voice.
"Oh, now you care?" The barely banked frustration of the last few days were threatening an avalanche aimed right at Lip's fucking head. "You had Mandy every which way but loose and you dumped her! What the fuck game are you playing with her anyway? Taking Amanda on dates to the Waffle Cottage, rubbing that shit in her face, and don't think I missed the way you were staring at her last night either! Why can't you just let her go?" Ian was off his stool now, facing his older brother with his hands balled into fists.
For a second it looked like Lip was going to jump up and fire back but then his shoulders slumped. "I don't know."
Ian started to retort angrily but Fiona got up this time, jumping between them. "Hey! Everybody calm down!" She turned to Ian and glared at him until he reluctantly took his seat again, still firing poison dart eyes at Lip.
Satisfied that Ian was under control, Fiona turned back to Lip. "I don't know what your deal is with Mandy Milkovich but whatever game you're playing with her needs to stop. That girl has been through enough. What she needs right now is a friend, not some arrogant dipshit who only wants what he can't have."
"Always good to know what you really think of me," Lip grumbled but Fiona was already refocused on Ian as she slid back onto her stool.
"As for you..." She shook her head. "Exactly what the fuck were you thinking?!
"I wasn't. I was totally out of my mind. Neither of us knew what we were doing," Ian stared back down at his nearly untouched plate of bacon and eggs.
"Yeah, I get that," Fiona gave him a disgusted look. "I can't imagine what Mandy was thinking, bringing that crap around you in the first place, but you're the one who chose to take it. Did you even consider for a second what that would do to your recovery? Not to mention that it was a slap in the face to every single one of us who have fought so hard for you these past few months! Me, Lip, even Mandy, not to mention Mickey! Do you have any concept of what that boy has been through for you?"
"Of course I do -" Ian started to protest but Fiona was already shaking her head.
"No, I don't think you do. Ian, I don't even want to think of where you could have ended up had Mickey not brought you home. He came out to the whole south side and let his father nearly beat him to death for you! He's been there, holding your hand through every single up and down since! And he's doing all this while he's juggling a wife, a baby, and a whole shit ton of Milkovich brand baggage. You know, I used to think that Mickey wasn't ready for the level of commitment it would take to keep you guys together. Now I'm starting to think that you're the one who isn't ready."
Ian flinched. "That's not fair, Fiona! I know how much of a shitshow I've been these past few months; believe me. But don't you fucking stand there and act like I haven't tried. I messed up, OK? I dropped the ball. Why does that have to wipe out everything else I've done? I thought of all people, you'd understand what this feels like! At least I had the excuse of being high!"
Hurt flashed across Fiona's face and she started to turn away. Lip glared at his brother fiercely. "Nice going, asswipe."
Ian quickly reached out and grabbed Fiona's arm, stopping her. "Hey, I'm sorry. That was a low blow."
"No, it wasn't," Fiona sighed, fiddling with her ponytail. "It's true. I self destructed and I blew everything. My job, Mike..." She looked at Ian. "I just don't want you to make the same mistakes. We can only do so much." She sat back down on her stool, pulling herself closer to Ian. "You got dealt a shitty hand. It's not fair that things have to be so much harder for you. But it is what it is. You can't just do dumb shit like this without considering just how much more you have to lose."
"Yeah," Ian studied the counter again for a moment before he met her dark eyes. "Do you think I've lost Mickey?"
Fiona sighed. "I don't know. I think you are the only person in the world he's ever allowed himself to be vulnerable with. When someone gives you that kind of trust and you break it, it's a hell of a lot to forgive." She stood once more, putting a gentle hand on her brother's downcast face. "I will say this. Mickey Milkovich has surprised me more than once lately. If you're ready - seriously ready to put in the work it's going to take to fix this, then I think there's hope."
She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Ian's forehead. "And with that, I am going to bow out of this conversation. I've got some errands to run, so you two are in charge of the kids," she shot a worried look upstairs. "Don't let Debbie stay in bed all day."
"Why; what's going on with her?" Ian was startled out of his own thoughts by Fiona's tone.
His sister shrugged. "You're not the only Gallagher experiencing the pangs of heartache this morning. That punk Toby dumped her out of the blue. I'm not sorry to see the back of that little hoodrat but it's going to take a while for Debbie to see she's better off. She was really upset last night. Try to cheer her up if you can," With a final wave, she headed out the back door.
"Wow," Ian rubbed his forehead. "I didn't even know she was dating someone. Guess I missed out on a lot. Kinda wrapped up in my own shit lately,"
Lip's mouth curled. Ian gave him a hard look. "You got something to say now too?"
Lip held up his hands. "Nope, I think Fiona pretty much covered it."
"Well, good," Ian snapped. "Because I wasn't through talking to you about Mandy."
Lip started to respond, but they were interrupted by the chiming of his ringtone. "Hang on," Lip picked up his phone. "Hello?" He started to move away from Ian, but swung back around abruptly, his eyebrows raising.
"Hi, Mickey," he gave Ian a significant look.
Ian immediately reached for the phone but Lip waved him off, still listening. "Uh, yeah. He's fine, actually. In fact, he's right here if you want to t - uh, ok. Never mind then," he clicked off the phone, tossing it back onto the counter.
"What did he say?" Ian hated the desperate, pleading tone that had crept into his voice, but he couldn't help it.
Lip shrugged. "Wanted to know if you were OK. You know, taking your meds, not disappearing to parts unknown or into the cars of dirty old men, that kind of thing, I guess."
"Why didn't you let me talk - " Ian began but Lip was already shaking his head.
"Didn't want to talk to you. Hung up as soon as I started to ask." He shook his head as Ian's face fell. "Sorry. What did you expect though, really?" He sighed, running a hand through his tangled brown hair, his gaze hardening. "Of all the people you could have fucked, Ian..."
"I know, I know…" Ian put his head in his hands.
Lip was merciful enough to let him marinate in regret quietly for a few minutes. When Ian finally looked up, his brother's expression was a mixture of concern and amusement.
"Hey, I gotta ask...that was your first time with a girl, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, so?" Ian picked up a piece of cold bacon, twirling it in his fingers before taking a bite.
"So, how was it?" Lip grinned, leaning forward. "I mean, you were still like half a virgin! Did you see the light? Decide you like a little whisker biscuit here and there?"
"What the - seriously, Lip? Half a virgin? Do you consider yourself half a virgin just because you've never had a dick up your ass?"
"Who says I haven't?" Lip grinned at Ian's expression. "OK, point taken. Still gay, then?"
"Still gay," Ian said decidedly. "I don't really even remember it. It was just kind of a blur. I don't think it was any better for Mandy, either."
Lip clenched his jaw at the mention of Mandy's name, and his face darkened.
"Lip, I know you're upset with me too, because of Mandy - "
"Because of Mandy?" Lip stared at him in disbelief. Ian barely caught the flash of white hot fury in his brother's eyes before Lip's fist caught him in the jaw so hard that he was knocked off the stool and onto the kitchen floor.
"Fuck!" He choked out as his mouth filled rapidly with blood. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, he managed to pull himself to a sitting position, tentatively feeling his face. For a second there, he'd really thought Lip had broken something, but no, he could still move his jaw, though not without considerable pain. The blood was from biting down hard on his tongue.
Lip's bronzed knees appeared in front of Ian's face, and then his brother knelt down next to him, his face cheerful once more. "Believe it or not, that was for Mickey," he patted Ian's head mockingly and stood up. "Clean yourself off, finish your breakfast, and take your pills. We're taking the kids to the pool," he stood up, and sauntered out of the kitchen, whistling, leaving Ian dumbstruck, guilt stricken, and with pieces of Liam's dropped Cheerios stuck to his knees.
"Here you go," Fiona looked up from the barstool at the Alibi as V slid a frost covered bottle of beer towards her.
"Fresh out of the freezer, just how you like 'em," V uncapped her own bottle as she joined her on the next barstool. She grinned as she watched her friend take a long swallow. "Do the boys know that your urgent errands involve spending the afternoon drinking here with me?"
Fiona grinned. "What Lip and Ian don't know won't hurt them. Besides, they both need to spend some time doing something other than worrying about who they're going to connect their genitals to." Her smile faded slightly as she set down the beer. "It kinda got to me, what Ian said, about at least he had an excuse for what he did. I mean, he's bipolar! What reasoning did I have? Do they even make pills for being a standard edition Gallagher fuck up?"
"Hey now," V leaned over, already having been filled in on the latest Gallagher drama. "First of all, Ian screwed his live in lover's sister on the couch of the apartment they share, so the boy has no room to judge anyone. Second of all, just because you don't have a diagnosable condition doesn't mean you haven't been dealing with a world of shit for far too long. I'm amazed you didn't crack years ago!" She leaned forward and squeezed Fiona's hand. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You've cleaned up, you're back to working your ass off for those kids, and not having any fun at all while you're at it. Don't you think you've punished yourself enough? Why don't you try doing something for yourself before you suffocate under all the pressure again? Maybe even try dating once in a while! I mean, they weren't all bad, were they -" she broke off abruptly, eyes widening at something behind Fiona. "Speak of the devil - look who's here!"
Fiona whirled around. To her surprise, it was Tony the Cop that V was gesturing at. He was descending the staircase that led to Mickey and Svetlana's Rub & Tug operation, a slightly baffled looking Svetlana behind him.
"Hey, Tony! Over here!" V gestured to him, smiling broadly.
"V, no!" Fiona hissed. "Thank you, but no. Been there, done that. I can't imagine it being any less boring the second time around."
"Alright, then," V shrugged.
Tony, who had turned a brilliant red once he realized he'd been spotted, gave the two an embarrassed wave and then without a backward glance, hurried out the front door.
"Well, damn," V leaned back on her stool and laughed. "Good thing you weren't interested, because it looks like Tony is all kinds of over you. Guess he's gone global!"
Fiona shrugged as V waved Svetlana over. "Hey, girl, is Tony a regular upstairs now? Didn't think he was the type."
Svetlana shook her head. She still looked confused. "No, today is first time. He says he wants to see me," she shrugged. "Cops do it all the time - they want freebie or they will close us down. So I tried to -" she broke off, struggling for the words as she mimed unzipping a zipper.
"You tried to free willy," V helped. "Go on."
Svetlana nodded. "But he wouldn't let me! He says he wants date! What does that mean?" Looking more baffled than ever, she slumped onto the next bar stool, gesturing for Kev to bring her a drink.
"It means he wants more than a quick bang," Kev dropped a shot in front of her. "You need him to spell it out for you? He likes you!"
"Likes me?" Svetlana stared at him. "But why did he not want blowjob then? What kind of man turns that down? Does that mean he is gay? Because I already have one of those!"
Kev snorted before turning to V and Fiona. "Ladies, take this one, please?"
Fiona turned to Svetlana. "Tony's a nice guy, really. I think you should go for it."
"A nice guy.." Svetlana rolled the words around on her tongue dubiously, looking as though she doubted such a creature existed. "What would I do with a nice guy? What would he do with me?"
Fiona and V exchanged looks before V leaned forward. "Honey, haven't you ever had a boyfriend?"
Svetlana shook her head before she picked up her shot, tossing it back.
"But you've been on a date, right?" Fiona questioned.
Svetlana stared at her before she shot a significant look at the staircase leading upstairs.
"No, no, no!" V shook her head vigorously. "Pay for play does not count! A date date! You know, they pick you up, take you someplace nice to eat, pay the tab, play footsie with you under the table…"
"Like in the movies?" Svetlana shrugged. "No. Not like that. Nika and I drank beer and watched movies. Sometimes she took me to mall, but that was so I could watch for security while she took things."
"Seriously, never? No guy or girl has ever taken you out? How old are you?" Fiona demanded.
"Twenty-five," Svetlana paused. "I think. I lose track."
Fiona and V exchanged another long look over Svetlana's head. She looked back at Svetlana, who was moodily stirring her drink.
"Fi, forget code pink," V said out loud. "This is a Girl Code RED if I've ever seen one."
Fiona nodded vigorously. "Svetlana, get your stuff."
"Why?" Svetlana looked up in surprise. "Where are we going?"
"My house," Fiona looked at V for confirmation. "We are going to get drunk on cheap liquor, give each other bad mani-pedis, and V and I are going to talk you through the finer points of dating. Now I may not be the best one to give dating advice, but compared to a babe in the woods like you, I'm the professional. "
"You got enough experience to go pro, that's for damn sure!" V cracked, and laughed at the look Fiona shot her.
Svetlana had stood up but she looked hesitant. "I am supposed to be in charge of the girls upstairs and I have Geno upstairs..."
V shrugged. "So? I've got to pick up my babies from Mama anyway; another one won't make a difference. And Mickey can handle shit upstairs, right?"
"He's not here," Svetlana bit her lip. "He said he had something to do."
"Oh. Well then..." V looked over at Kev, who was refilling Kermit's drink at the other end of the bar. "Babe, you can handle the Rub & Tug til Mickey gets here, right?"
"No!" Kev sputtered.
"That's settled then. Let's go!" V turned back to them, ignoring Kev's loud protests.
"OK,"Svetlana's first genuine smile since the conversation had begun transformed her face. "I'll get Geno," With that, she hurried away.
V turned back to Fiona. "How much you wanna bet that girl has never had a friend, either?"
"Well, she does now," Fiona replied determinedly.
"Damn straight!" V slapped Fiona a high five.
"Yes, this is all very touching," Kev snapped, walking over as V and Fiona stood up. "But there is no way in hell you all are leaving me alone with a pack of insane in the membrane Russian whores!"
V smirked. "You were the one who told us to take this one, remember? Well, we're taking it right out the front door. Besides, you'll be fine. What's the worst that could happen?"
Svetlana rejoined them at that moment, Geno in her arms.
Just then, there was a near hysterical shriek from the top of the stairs. A half dressed Russian hooker with tattered blond extensions and a world weary expression emerged, a fully naked man dancing in pain beside her, holding his crotch and wailing in agony. "Sveta," the girl called down. "Irina mixed up the lube and the athletic rub again!"
"That's all you, Kev!" V grabbed Svetlana's arm and hustled her towards the front.
"Remember, Kev," Fiona yelled over her shoulder, grinning at Kev's horrified face. "Keep your pimp hand strong!"
With that the three of them ducked out the door and ran, laughing, all the way down the alley.
Mickey paused on the walkway that led to the police station, staring ahead of him at the ominous glass doors. He could walk through them a free man, but that didn't mean he was going to be able to walk out the same way.
Of course, he was jumping the gun with his pessimistic thinking. Yeah, the DNA test results were doing to swing him faster than a game of hangman, but they wouldn't be back for weeks, even months. He still had some time. He could split before they even took the fucking sample, head to Mexico or some shit. How much effort would they really put into finding him, anyway? It wasn't like anyone in law enforcement really gave a shit about some South Side drug dealing thug's death anyway. They'd barely been able to pretend to care enough to go through the motions so far.
So, yeah. Mickey could run. He could do a lot of things besides walk into that building and willingly let some unpaid city schmuck stick a cotton swab in his mouth.
But where would that leave Svetlana? Geno? Where the fuck would that leave him? Hiding in the shadows, looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life? Leaving behind everyone he ever cared about to save his own skin?
Leave Ian? Letting him find out that Mickey really was the coward he'd always fought so hard against being?
Fuck it. One dead man walking, coming right up. Mickey squared his shoulders and shoved the door open.
A few mumbled words to the desk cop on duty, and he was waved down the hallway to a waiting room full of scarred plastic chairs.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" A familiar voice snapped as he entered. His brothers Joey and Colin were already seated, but they stood up now to face him, Joey cracking his knuckles in a way that was supposed to be menacing.
"Same as you, shit for brains. DNA test." Ignoring their twin glowers, Mickey moved across the room and slumped into a seat along the opposing wall.
"Ass bandit!" He heard Colin cough loudly as he and Joey sat back down as well. The two snickered loudly.
"Clever," he snapped. "Go look up some more ways to say I'm gay, why don't you? I heard that one already."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his brothers' smiles drop. Their expressions turned menacing as they leaned towards him.
"If Dad were here, he'd put a stop to this. He wouldn't let any one of his kids prance around calling themselves a fucking fairy," Colin's voice was low and harsh.
"Well, he ain't here. He's dead. Times change." Mickey could feel himself tighten defensively. Not wanting them to see they were getting to him, he faked casualness, picking up a magazine from the chipped coffee table in front of him and snapping it open.
"Maybe we'll just have to step up and teach you a lesson all by ourselves," Joey shared a smirk with Colin. "Leave you crying on the floor just like we did with Iggy."
Mickey's head snapped up and the magazine slid from his hands. "You did that?" he whispered. "You helped Dad fuck him up like that?"
Joey and Colin both grinned broadly as if they couldn't be prouder of themselves. "Oh, come on, Mickey, you remember how Milkoviches play Kick The Can, don't you? You spent an awful lot of time being the can until you learned how to fight back. Iggy needed a reminder of how to play."
"You sorry ass, motherfucking pieces of shit!" Mickey was back on his feet. "Have you even seen him? You nearly fucking killed him!"
"He'll live," Colin shrugged nonchalantly, and Mickey would have launched himself across the room at him if Detective Simmons hadn't decided on that very moment to stroll into the waiting room.
"Thank you all for coming -" The weary looking black man broke off as he took in Mickey's clenched fists and Joey and Colin's defensive stances. "Is there a problem here?"
"No," Mickey nearly bit off the words, struggling to put a damper on his rage. Wrong time, wrong place, but goddamn, his fucking wanna-be Terry clone brothers were going to pay for this. "Let's get this shit over with."
Detective Simmons took a deep breath. "Actually, the DNA tests will no longer be necessary. I'm sorry that you all had to waste time coming out here but -"
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Joey burst out.
Detective Simmons held up his hands. "Please, there's no reason to get upset. We just had a little mix up, I'm afraid," he broke off, rubbing the beads of sweat that had appeared on his forehead. "The DNA samples from your father's body were contaminated during transit. It was a very regrettable error, and the officer involved has been disciplined. Regardless, we can no longer use them. Now, I don't feel it will make any difference, given the strong case we already have against the men we've arrested but -"
"Are you fucking kidding me? You fucked up evidence that could convict our father's murderers?" Colin and Joey were shouting now, and Mickey saw officers appearing as if summoned from every corner. "You incompetent pig fuckers! You don't even give a shit, do you?"
"There's no need for this; settle down, please!" Detective Simmons tried desperately for calm but it was like waving a red flag in front of two angry bulls. Colin charged, and Joey was hot on his heels. Before they reached the detective, other police officers had raced into action, throwing themselves into the beginning fray and wrestling the fighting Milkovich brothers' hands behind their backs to be cuffed.
"Mickey!" Joey yelled as he tried to fight off the two officers. "Fucking help us!"
Mickey stayed right where he was. "Yeah, sure, I'll help," he looked at the officers who were struggling to contain his brothers. "Hey, watch yourselves - they keep shivs in their socks!"
At his words, there was a rush of blue and he watched at least ten officers dogpile his brothers until all he could see of them was a waving arm or leg. One officer knelt on Colin's back as he unsnapped his Taser, and Mickey grinned at the subsequent howl of pain.
Detective Simmons sighed as he watched, before he turned to Mickey. "We'll throw them in holding until they calm down, and then we'll let them go, barring the absence of shivs, of course."
"Ain't no skin off my back," Mickey shrugged. "So...I can go?"
"Of course," Detective Simmons shook his hand absently, his eyes already back on the fray. "If there are any other developments, I'll be in touch."
Jesus fucking christ, Mickey thought to himself as he strolled down the corridor. What a stroke of fucking luck that was. One clumsy cop, and he was off the hook.
His hands were shaking with relief as he stopped to pull his cell phone out of his pocket. He had to call Svetlana, figure out with her how they were going to squeeze Iggy into their apartment when he got out of the hospital. No way could Mickey let him go back to their father's house with Colin and Joey now.
Just as he started to dial, Mickey realized he wasn't alone. Just around the corner, someone was talking in low tones. Mickey started to walk past, but his steps slowed as he recognized Officer O'Neill, who was talking on his own cell phone, his back to Mickey.
"Carlos, calm down. It went better than I expected. I just got desk duty for a few weeks, that's all. You should have seen Simmon's face when he heard - he wanted me fired. Nobody cared about his opinion though, just like I told you. Good news is I'll be home for dinner a lot more, right?" he listened for a moment, then laughed. "Yeah, I think this does call for a celebration. I'll be there in twenty." With that, he clicked off the phone, then turned, looking surprised to see Mickey standing there.
"You are fucking shitting me!" Mickey was too shocked to consider what he was saying. "It was you! You fucked up the samples on purpose!"
Officer O'Neill shot a nervous glance up and down the corridor. "Walk with me, kid," he clapped a hand on Mickey's back, ushering him down the hallway to quieter quarters.
They strolled in silence for a moment as Mickey's tumultuous thoughts roared around his head and he struggled with what to say. "I…why..." he started and then gave up with a sigh.
They reached the end of the corridor and Officer O'Neill turned to him. "I'm just going to take that constipated look on your face for thanks since it looks like it would cause you actual physical pain to say it out loud."
Mickey started to speak and the older man held his hand up to forestall him. "You don't really need to ask me why, do you? I've been around men like your father all my life. I have the scars to prove it, and I've been at the crime scenes of far too many of their victims. This is the one time I can do something about it. So look at it this way. You got dealt a shitty hand in life, and I think you've been long past due a break," he took a deep breath. "I think I've earned the right to ask you for one favor in return. Remember this is the oly second chance you're going to get. Don't blow it."
"I won't," Mickey took a deep breath as he looked the man directly in the eyes. "Thank you."
Officer O'Neill smiled at that, pulling a small card out of his pocket and writing something on the back before handing it to him. "My husband Carlos owns Gordo's restaurant on 5th. Bring your 'modern family' in for dinner sometime. He'd get quite a kick out of you guys," he handed the card to Mickey. "My cell number's on the back. Next time you find yourself neck deep in shit, call me before you do something stupid, OK?" With a grin, he gave Mickey a final slap on the back and strolled back the way they came, disappearing around a corner.
Leaving Mickey standing there, open mouthed with astonishment.
Apparently, there really was a God after all.
Our Mickey really was long past due a break, wasn't he?
Thank you so much for reading! Feedback always appreciated!