A/N: Depression and mentions of self-harm and abuse (neither are described)

Ian tried not to think about Mickey for weeks. He didn't want the hurt. He didn't want the frustration. But goddamn it, no matter what he did every thought circled back to him. He thought about every aspect of the Milkovich boy's face, personality, life, listing pros and cons of putting effort into this. After a while he'd get tired of that and he'd just think about his face, his smile, his eyes, his lips, his hands...

Fuck.

Mickey Milkovich was his soulmate and there was just no getting around that. He wanted someone to talk to about this, but he didn't want to freak Mandy out, Lip was super busy with school and making money, Fiona was just way too tied up with running the house and working, not Debbie, not Carl, definitely not Frank, Jimmy didn't know Mickey well enough to really help. It looked like, at least for the moment, he was going to have to sort this out on his own. Unless, he talked to V. Yeah, V. That's a solid choice.

The next day he went over the Kev and Veronica's house to try to find her. She had been talking about how she was sick and couldn't work for a bit, so he hoped he wouldn't be bothering her.

He walked into the house, "Veronica?" He moved into the living room. "Yo, V!"

"Is that a Gallagher I hear?" She yelled as she made her way down the stairs. "Ian! Well, that's a surprise. What's up, baby? Did Fiona run out of cough medicine for Debbie again because I can't get any until-"

"No, actually, I just came here to talk. If that's okay?" She looked briefly taken aback, but that was soon replaced with happiness.

"Okay. What's going on? Is this a sit down conversation?"

"Uh..." He began.

"Actually, doesn't matter because I'ma sit down anyways." Ian chuckled and sat down opposite to the couch she laid down on.

"Okay, so there's really no better way to start than I found out who my soulmate is."

"Oh, that's great, honey!" He raised a hand and she an eyebrow.

"It's Mickey Milkovich."

She shot up straight on the couch, "What!" He nodded. "Mickey Milkovich, like ghetto, punk ass, Dirtiest White Boy in America, Mickey Milkovich?"

"One and the same." He replied.

"Holy shit..." She relaxed back into the couch again, and he gave her a pained look.

"V, I don't know what to do."

"Oh, sweetie, come here." She stretched out her arms and he sat on the edge of her couch.

"Like I tried talking to him, but what the hell's that gonna do? I don't know what I expected. Fuck if he was gonna just become some sweet, kiss you in the middle of a crowded room, strokes your hair guy, right?" He sighed and held the hand that she had left for him to hold.

"I know, but look if he's your soulmate, that means there's gotta be something there, huh?"

He nodded, "I guess..."

"So find it. You gotta figure out why the fuck, Mickey Milkovich is your soulmate. The universe or God or whatever the hell's out there doesn't make mistakes. You know when I found out Kev was my soulmate I was so mad?" He turned to her shocked. "Yeah. I was so angry. I was like damn it why isn't it some rich ass, lawyer dude or hell, a black guy?" She laughed. "But everyone knows that we're made for each other. I know that; he knows that. I couldn't be happier. It just took some getting used to and going with the flow."

Ian gave her a look, "Yeah, but Mickey Milkovich does not 'go with the flow.' He's gonna punch me if I try to talk to him about it again."

She sat up and looked at him, "Maybe, but maybe you're gonna be the one who wakes him up and brings out that sweet guy you were talking about. There's gotta be a reason he's the one. It might take days, weeks, or even years, but he'll figure it out. You both will. You just need to keep trying. Just because you're soulmates doesn't mean your relationship's gonna come easy. Look at Fiona and Jimmy, they've got so many issues, but they're trying to make it work."

Ian smiled, "Yeah, okay. Thanks, V."

"You're welcome, honey. Now, help me to the bathroom 'cause I'm gonna puke."

Ian fucking Gallagher... shit. Mickey did not need this right now. He didn't need more pain. He didn't need another reason to feel empty inside or to hurt in a way that couldn't be fixed with ice and a band-aid.

Everything was so shit in his life, and now... Now, he'd fucked up the one thing he'd hung onto since he was a kid. Seeing his mom and dad, and his aunts and uncles together, the hope of finding his soulmate had kept him going through all the bullshit and misery. Kept him going after his mom died. Kept him going through the nights when Terry came home drunk and swinging. He just thought about his soulmate, and how, for some reason, finding him was gonna make it all better.

But knowing his soulmate was gonna be a he and not a she sometimes made it worse. He thought about his brothers and his dad, and all the times he and they'd all gone out fag bashing. He hit harder than all of them. He wanted to get that part out. He didn't want to be gay. He didn't want this for his life. His dad just thought it was because he was a kid after his own heart. He'd congratulate Mickey and tell him how well he'd done, and Mickey would feel sick to his stomach. But he'd fake a smile and crack some joke, and get on with his life. He'd just move on, but the thought of them bashing on him and the whole family casting him away, that kept him up at night, that was something from which he couldn't just "move on."

However, a soulmate's not something you can just walk away from. His dad had learned that the hard way; Mickey watched it happen. His mom walked out and his dad was never the same. There was something he lost that day that he never got back. He knew his dad was in pain, and that's why he lashed out. That's part of why Mickey and his siblings just took it. They hurt when mom left, but when your soulmate leaves... it fucks you up. In your soul, and in your body, it fucks you up.

Mickey knew he needed to fix things with Ian, but things weren't fixable. Would Ian even talk to him after how cruel he'd been? He'd been so mad; he supposed because part of him hoped he wasn't going to be gay and that his family wouldn't try to kill him once they found out. He'd also been mad because he knew Ian. He knew how wonderful and perfect he was, and how could he ever love someone as fucked up as Mickey? It just wasn't possible.

That was the pain he took to bed every night and carried each day. The numbness in his body was overwhelming, and each day was worse than the one before.

Ian woke up the next morning feeling better with what happened with Mickey. Veronica had reassured him and he finally felt somewhat at peace with the situation. He knew now why Fiona always went to her for advice.

Suddenly, he realised that something was off. He sat up and looked around the room. His brothers were fine, there was no noise from downstairs, but that's when he felt it, a sharp stinging on his wrist, "Fuck," he pulled at the sleeve, and when he looked down the world, around him seemed to freeze. Several ragged, small scars lined his left wrist, and he knew he hadn't put them there. "Oh, Mickey..."

He gathered himself and got dressed. Once he was ready, he walked over and shoved Lip. "Hey," Lip's only reply was a grunt. "Hey, assface!"

"Ian? What the fuck?" Lip grumbled, blinking hard.

"When she wakes up tell Fiona, I'm going to Mandy's."

"What? At," he looked at their clock, "5 AM?"

"Yeah, I'll see you later." He was on his way out the door when he heard Lip hop down from his bed.

"I'm coming with you. Sleeping in Mandy's bed is better than sleeping alone in mine."

Ian smiled, "'Kay."

"Mandy's going to be pissed. She doesn't wake up before 8 unless there's some kind of emergency."

"And how would you know that?" Ian joked.

"You miss a lot when you're off in your own little world, bro." He cast Ian a sideways glance. He'd been worried about him lately; he'd been acting really weird, and out of it.

"Actually, I'm not going to see Mandy."

"Iggy?"

"Nah, Mickey."

"Okay..." Lip trailed off, wondering what he could possibly have to discuss with Mickey of all the Milkoviches. But they walked the rest of the way in silence.

Ian jogged up the steps to the Milkovich house with Lip close behind. He thought about knocking, but decided it was better to only wake up two of the family than all of them. Besides Terry was way less scary, if he came at them, in the morning because he moved slower. He usually wasn't even up before noon after drinking himself to sleep.

They entered the house slowly finding it empty and light only by the grey light of early morning. Ian was about to point Lip to Mandy's room when he saw him already making his way in. Apparently, things really had changed. Now, he walked down the hallway to face the door to Mickey's room. He stood there for a minute, knowing that he had to go in, had to do something, but he had no clue what to say. He hadn't thought this through.

He clenched his fists, then slowly opened the door. It only made a slight creak. Ian had sort of hoped that that would wake Mickey up so he wouldn't have to, but he realised in a house like his, with all the yelling and noise, Mickey could probably sleep through anything.

He crossed the room to stand beside his bed. He hoped once he woke him, the words would come easy. "Mickey," he jostled him slightly. "Mickey!" He whispered louder.

"Mick!" He said in a normal tone.

"Whoever that is better have something real good to say 'cause-" Mickey turned his head, and found Ian, and his sentence was cut short. "Gallagher? What're you doin' here?"

"I saw them." He said plainly.

"Saw what, Firecrotch? It's fucking 6 AM. Don't be cryptic and shit." Mickey rolled over and sat up to face him. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were heavy from sleep, and he found himself becoming very self-conscious all of a sudden. Little did he know, Ian was certain he had never seen a sight more beautiful.

"The scars... on our wrists," he said quietly. Mickey felt very awake, now, and if he hadn't been self-conscious before he certainly was now. He tugged slightly at the sleeve of his shirt.

"What about 'em?" He knew he couldn't brush it off, but you can be damn sure he was going to try.

"Please, don't. You- you're worth so much more than you know, Mickey. You're my soulmate for fuck's sake. You can't just..." Ian sighed and stared at the wall briefly before looking back at Mickey. "I barely know you, but I know I have never cared about someone more than I do you. So, your safety means a lot to me, and just... I don't know. I need you to stick around, okay?"

Mickey's eyes had fallen to his lap, unable to look at Ian. "Okay, whatever."

A smile flickered across Ian's face, and he reached out to take Mickey's wrist. Mickey looked up at him then, and was so overcome. He didn't think he'd ever be able to look away, nor did he want to. They stayed like that for a moment, just looking into each other's eyes, and Mickey, for the first time in his life, was okay.