Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless.
A/N1: I know it's been even longer since I updated this story than "Nothing That a Little Maalox Can't Fix", and I apologize. Real life has been crazy as of late. There will probably only be one or two more chapters after this, sorry guys. But, I am thinking of maybe doing a sequel.
A/N2: Words in italics mean that it's a flashback.
Self Preservation-Chapter Fourteen
Mickey's taking his time stocking the soda cooler when the bell over the door at the Kash and Grab dings. He stops for a second because he's in no real hurry to finish. Ever since Ian landed in the hospital he's been working crazy hours to make up for the redhead's absence. When he finishes one thing, Linda is more than happy to give him something else to do. So, with her out for the day Mickey is taking it easy.
"Mickey, you here?" He hears someone call.
Mickey walks to the front of the store, and sees Ian's kid sister standing there. He thought that when Gallagher was released from the hospital four days ago, that his younger sister would be so excited at having her brother home that she would not want to be around Mickey anymore.
The ex-con couldn't be any more wrong. Over the last four days Debs has stopped by either the Kash and Grab or Mickey's house at least once a day. And since the two weeks that Ian's fever broke he has been invited over to the Gallagher's for dinner at least five times. He doesn't know if Fiona legitimately wanted him to come over or if was a part of some peace term to get Ian to behave during the start of his physical therapy on his knee. Regardless, it was actually kind of nice to have a meal that was half way decent with people who were okay. Even if they did talk way too much.
"Of course I'm here, brat. With your brother out of commission I'm working both our shifts," Mickey says as he walks behind the counter.
Debbie rolls her eyes. "Hello to you too. I see you're in a pleasant mood."
Mickey rolls his eyes, "What are you doing here?"
"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Debs says as she grabs a Hershey's bar. "You seem almost as pissy as Ian did when he left the house this morning."
Mickey scowls. Debs is right, he is in a shitty mood. And he knows exactly why. Ian started physical therapy on his leg when he was still in the hospital. That was tough, but it was still manageable. Even though Ian came back to his room exhausted and bitchy, progress was being made and everyone knew that his knee would be just fine.
So was not the case with Ian's hand. It became pretty clear after the staples and stitches were removed that his hand had a long way to go. Despite the delicate surgery to repair the ligaments and bones in his hand and fingers, there were still problems. The pinky was still curved too far towards the other fingers. It was not as bad as before the surgery, but it was still noticeable. Ian's thumb is still really fucked up. It barely moves. Dr. Lee said that he may perform another surgery to get some more range of motion back, but most likely it will never be the same as it was before.
When the doctor went to Fiona with the news that the surgery did not have the effect that they hoped it would, the Gallagher matriarch turned to the ex-con for advice on what to do in the hallway of the hospital.
"West Point is definitely out. When Ian hears that, he's gonna freeze up and refuse PT. If he does that then he's gonna get little to no function at all out of his hand. What do we now?" She asks Mickey.
"Like I'm supposed to know! I may be able to do a lot of things, but I can't fix his fucking hand." Mickey retorts.
"Well, we need to come up with a plan."
"We? There's no fucking 'we' here. I didn't sign up for this shit." He angrily responds because no one tells him what to do not. Not Gallagher, and certainly not his pit bull of an older sister.
Fiona lets out a sinister laugh, "Hate to tell you this, Mickey, but you did. You signed up for this when you finally realized that my brother is more than a good lay, and you sat by his bedside when he was delirious with fever and having fucking seizures. You signed up for this shit when you came to Debs' birthday dinner. Face it, you're in deep, and you better get used to it. So, I will ask you again. What do we fucking do?"
She's fucking right. He's in deep, and he can't leave Ian now. Not with his hand fucked to hell. "Go with what the doctor's told us. That with physical and occupational therapy he should get a good amount of function back. That way he'll continue to work on getting better."
"So we lie," Fiona says sadly.
"You say lie. I say we omit certain things that will cause him to stop physical therapy and really fuck his life up," Mickey says.
"I guess you're right. Fuck, I can't believe that I'm asking Mickey Milkovich what to do about my brother," Fiona says laughing.
"Fuck off!" Mickey says as he gives her the finger and makes his way to Ian's hospital room.
"Is he back yet?" Mickey asks Ian's younger sister.
Debs shakes her head. "No, he had an appointment after physical therapy. They're not back yet."
Mickey knows this. He was at the Gallagher's the night before and Ian told him that he had a doctor's appointment after his physical therapy session. But for the moment, he plays dumb. "That sucks. When is he gonna be back?"
"Around four. After physical therapy and his doctor appointment he also had to meet up with his new OT therapist. Her name is Crystal or something. I don't like her."
Mickey rubs his bottom lip with his thumb, "You don't like her?"
"Crystal? It sounds like a hooker. What can she possibly know about occupational therapy? She'll probably try putting the moves on him."
Crystal may be a whore's name, but Mickey knows that won't be a problem. "If that's what you're worrying about, relax."
Debbie takes a bite of the candy bar and gives him a smirk. "I know that. She just seems a little ditzy. I answered Fiona's phone when she called to confirm Ian's consultation she said 'um' and 'like' a thousand times."
Mickey grabs a donut from the pastry case and takes a huge bite, "Be easy on her. Let's see how good she is at her job before we jump to any fucking conclusions, alright? ."
Debs smiles. "Fine, Mick. You coming over for dinner? Jimmy's getting pizza."
Mickey knows exactly why Jimmy's getting pizza. Ian can't exactly hold a fork or spoon in his right hand right now. Finger foods are the best option.
"It's Ian's favorite." Debbie adds with a smile.
Mickey knows this already. Whenever they hang out, and he means hang out because Mickey does not do dates, Ian always want to eat pizza. So, Mickey assumes that pizza is for dinner because it's not only a finger food, but is also a means to keep the redhead's morale up after his first day of physical therapy. "Sure, I'll be there."
"Good," Debbie says with a smile, with chocolate on the corner of her mouth. "If you weren't gonna come, I was gonna kick your ass."
Mickey can't contain his laughter. Between the chocolate on her face contradicting her 'bad ass"' attitude he can't help but think she just might, so he starts laughing.
"Screw you, Mickey," She says as she wipes her mouth with her hand.
XXXXX
Fiona's the one who answers the door when Mickey' knocks. She gives him a small, tired smile. "Hey, Mickey. I'm happy you're here."
At first Mickey thinks she's just bullshitting him, but when he sees that her smile is real, he realizes she's speaking the truth. Fuck, this feels strange.
Mickey shrugs his shoulders, "I heard you were having pizza, and I'm not dumb enough to pass up a free meal." Mickey explains.
Fiona rolls her eyes,"Sure, Mickey."
"That and I figured you're probably ready to kill him by now after carting his ass to the doctor's and therapy," Mickey adds.
Fiona's gaze falls to the ground for a quick second. But, it's not so quick that Mickey misses it. Something must have happened.
"Is everything okay?"
Fiona lets out a long sigh, "Things are as good as they can be. It's just been a long day. We just got back about twenty minutes ago. I'm sure Ian will be happy to see you." She then stands a bit to the side of the doorway, "Come in."
Mickey does, and once he's inside of the house he immediately scans the living room for the redhead.
"He's up in his room. Today really took a lot out of him. He's lying down for a bit before dinner," Fiona explains.
Mickey nods his head and climbs the stairs without saying another word. When he reaches Ian's bedroom door he doesn't knock, he just barges in. Hell, what do you expect? He's still Mickey Milkovich, and manners are not his strong suit. The Gallagher's and his sister may think he has turned a little soft, but he's still Mickey. Dirty, rude, with an "I don't give a shit what you think attitude."
Ian is lying on his bed with his eyes closed, and at first glance the ex-con thinks that he may be sleeping. But, when he leans in closer he can see that the fingers on Ian's good hand are clenched into a tight fist and he hears the controlled breathing that goes with trying to control one's pain. Gallagher's not sleeping at all.
"You trying to be a hardass and not take your pain meds again, firecrotch?" Mickey asks as she stands near the redhead's bed.
Ian opens his eyes and tries to give the ex-con a hard glare. "No, I'm not trying to be a hardass," he bites out.
Mickey's not intimidated at all by the attempted glare. There's no real threat there. All Mickey can see is the pain that Gallagher is trying to get control of. "Good, because you heard what the nurses said. If you don't take your pain meds, you're not going to get the most out of therapy." Mickey stops there. He doesn't say that if therapy doesn't go well then Gallagher's hand will be permanently fucked up. Even though he knows that Ian knows this, even if he hasn't said it.
"I know that, Mickey. Jesus." Ian says as he lets out a frustrated sigh and closes his eyes. "I can't take it now anyway. Not supposed to take them on an empty stomach. I'll wait until the pizza's here."
Mickey bites his bottom lip to stop himself from snapping back at Gallagher. He knew that firecrotch was going to be bitchy. He was pissy when he started PT on his leg, snapping at his siblings and him when they asked how he was doing after his sessions. And the damage done to his hand is so much worse, which means therapy on it is going to take a hell of a lot more out him.
Mickey spots the bottle of pain pills on the table beside Ian's bed. Percocet. Ian's on the strong shit. But then again, with a shattered thumb, torn ligaments to hell, and a totally fucked up hand it's no wonder. And the fact that there are four refills on the script tells the ex-con enough. The doctor anticipates a long and painful recovery period. Just another reminder of how fucked up things are now.
The ex-con sits down softly on the edge of Ian's bed. The redhead doesn't move. Probably because of the combination of being in pain and acting like a pissy little bitch. Stubborn asshole!
Mickey bends down so that he's mere centimeters from Ian's ear. "Take the fucking pill, firecrotch. I can't take you acting like a bitch that's on the rag."
"Screw. You. Mick." Ian says slowly.
Mickey rolls his eyes, what a dick. Two can play this game. Ian must have forgotten who he's dealing with. Mickey sticks the pill in his mouth and leans in towards Ian's mouth. With the pill tucked securely under his tongue he bites Ian's lower lip. The ex-con can't help but smirk when the redhead opens his mouth, and just like Mickey knew he would, Ian goes in for a kiss. Ian doesn't get a kiss instead he feels the tip of Mickey's tongue as he slips the pain pill into his mouth
Shocked, Ian has no choice but to swallow. "What the fuck, Mickey!" Ian coughs as he sits up on the bed. "You could have killed me. I could have choked on it."
Mickey rubs his bottom lip with his thumb. "Well, I was about to kill you anyway if you didn't take a pain pill. Fuck, you are so annoying when you're bitchy and in pain."
Ian rolls his eyes. "Fuck you, Mickey."
"I'm game. As long as you're not gonna konk out on me in the middle of it, and leave me to finish myself off," Mickey says with a smirk.
As if he was dared, Ian leans forwards and begins attacking Mickey's neck with rough biting. Mickey couldn't hold back his moan as his hands instantly fly to his own zipper and within seconds of having his pants down, Ian has his finger in Mickey's ass. Mickey lets out another low moan as the redhead quickly adds a second finger. It's been way too long since they had this. Ian was in the hospital for close to three weeks, and been home for four days. But, since he's been home, the two had no alone time. One of the Gallagher's or Mandy was always around.
Mickey knows that they don't have much time, and that at any minute someone will be banging on the door, yelling about something. And he does not want to deal with the ramifications of Lip, Fiona, or even worse, Debbie catching them in the act. To help speed up the process he pushes away Ian's good hand away from his fly.
"Let me," Mickey growls in desperation, his dick throbbing in anticipation.
Ian pulls his hand away from Mickey's fly and is back scissoring his fingers inside of Mickey's ass. Ian is moving far too slow for the ex-con's liking, and he's ready to get on with it. "Fuck, firecrotch. Just fuck me already."
The redhead instantly complies and removes his fingers from Mickey's ass. Not caring about the burn that's coming, Mickey slams himself down hard on Ian's length.
"Fuck, Mick." Ian gasps out.
Because it's been way too long there is no real rhythm, mostly frantic movements, and low groans that soon sends Mickey over the edge far too soon for his liking. It's when Mickey bites down hard on Ian's neck to signal his own release that Ian comes.
The two of them lay there in a sweaty sticky mess for a few minutes. Neither one is in a hurry to move. As Ian drifts off into a light doze, Mickey lays there watching the redhead breathing softly, the pain lines in his face don't seem to be so clearly defined now as they were earlier. He's perfectly content with just lying there. Damn! Mandy is right, he's turning into a pussy.
He too is about to drift off when he hears, Fiona yelling through the door "Ian! Mickey! Food's here!"
Mickey's scrambling to put his boxers back on when the door flies open. "Fuck, Fiona!"
To her credit she doesn't even seem fazed by what she sees. Though, she probably is relieved to see that her brother is under his comforter, so all she does see is Mickey frantically pulling up his underwear. But, Mickey can tell that she knows what happened in here just minutes before because of the fucking smirk on her face. And that's enough to make Mickey feel a little unease.
"Please, I've seen worse. Pizza's here. Get your asses down there if you want some." Fiona turns around to leave and calls back over her shoulder. "And you might want to change. Unless you want to face Debs with that on your shirt."
"Bitch." Mickey calls back when he hears Fiona laughing as she walks down the stairs. He looks down at his black wife beater and sees exactly what she's referring to. He definitely doesn't want Debs to see this. That would be awkward as shit. Granted she knows that he and her brother are together. She's a bright kid, so she no doubt knows damn well what they do together, but he really doesn't want Ian's kid sister to see proof of what they do together. He gets up from the bed, and walks over to a pile of clean laundry and picks out a plain, black tee-shirt. He looks back at Ian who is still sleeping soundly. "Your fucking family drives me nuts."
Ian's only answer is a light snore.
Mickey shakes his head. "What the fuck did I get myself into?"
Sorry about the ending of this chapter, but I didn't really know how to end it. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Like I said there will probably be only one maybe two more chapters. Thanks to all those who are still reading!