Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless.

A/N: My apologies for taking so long with this update. I just didn't feel like writing for a bit, but I think that I got my mojo back now. Thanks to all of you who are still reading this!

Another (Major) Bump in the Road-Chapter 3

The Gallagher house is dark and quiet when Mickey finally make his way up the wickedly, old stairs during the wee hours of the morning. Mickey can't help but smirk when he takes out his copy of the house key. He knows that must have really pissed Lip and Fiona off that Ian gave him one. Then again they probably figured that if he didn't have one he would just end up breaking in. This was the lesser of the two evils. And Mickey can't lie, the sure look of annoyance on the two eldest Gallagher's faces when they first realized that Mickey had a key to their house was part of the reason why when Ian first handed him the house key he didn't tell the redhead to fuck off.

It takes some fancy footwork to maneuver around the Gallagher front entry way in the dark, especially after knocking back a few before he left the Alibi. Clothes and toys are scattered throughout and the last thing he needs is to wake up the kids and hear Lip's bitching. At least with Fiona working all those crazy ass hours at the diner he has not had to deal with her harsh looks and snide comments for the most part.

As Mickey starts the trek upstairs, he steps on a squishy toy that lets out a loud squeak. "Fuck!" He hears a rustling coming from the couch. He peers over and sees Carl has rolled over and has thankfully fallen back asleep. Damn kid can sleep through anything. That's a good thing. Relieved that he won't get bitched at for the time being at least, Mickey continues going upstairs as quietly as his slightly buzzed body allows him to.

Mickey quietly lets himself into the boys' room mindful of a sleeping Liam and also how bitchy a sick Ian can be. Debbie has warned him about that. Mickey wipes his sweaty forehead. "Fuckin' bitch. Hotter than fuck in here." He quickly looks around nervously to make sure that he didn't wake up the little snot rag. He's relieved to see that Ian is the only one in the room. Liam must have had another nightmare and is in Lip's room. "Move over, dick." Mickey says as he nudges Ian to move over on his tiny ass bed. Nothing. He tries again, "Don't be a bitch. I had to deal with enough shit all day." But, the redhead remains still. Confused, Mickey quirks his eyebrow. What the fuck is that? He can faintly hear a strange noise over the sound of the old, shitty ass, but he can't figure out what the noise is. "What the fuck is that?" He's not exactly quiet and Ian still hasn't moved.

Panic sweeps through Mickey. Alarmed, he reaches over and turns on the small lamp that is beside the younger boy's bed. "Fuck, Ian!" The younger boy is curled into himself, facing the wall. Despite being under several blankets in the hot ass room in the middle of August, Ian is still shivering. His teeth are chattering. Mickey's buzz is instantly gone.

"Wake up, Ian!' Mickey demands as he shakes the redhead's shoulder. Ian doesn't respond to the command, and only burrows himself deeper into his sheets. "Nah, man. That ain't gonna work," Mickey says as he rolls the taller boy onto this back. "You gotta wake up! Ian!"

Ian only squints his eyes tighter. Mickey lets out a string of curses. This ain't good. Ian needs to wake up now. He starts slapping the boy's pale cheek. "Ian! Ian! Come on, man!" After several long moments, Ian's glazed eyes finally open.

"Thank fuck!" Mickey says in relief. But, any relief that Mickey felt quickly fades when he sees that Ian's fever bright eyes quickly close. "Nah, man. That ain't gonna work. Open your eyes."

"C-can't," Ian replies squinting his eyes tighter.

Mickey shakes his head and rubs Ian's heated cheek softly. "Yes, you can. Come on, Ian. Please."

The softness in Mickey's plea must have made it through the redhead's fevered haze because he complies and opens his again. He looks towards Mickey. Not at Mickey but at some point past him. Mickey cups the redhead's face, ignoring the younger boy's grimace. "Look at me, Ian."

It takes a bit, but finally Ian's eyes meet Mickey's. "Mick?"

Mickey shakes his head. "Course' it's me. Who the fuck else would it be?"

Ian licks his dry, chapped lips. "Monica. Monica said she would meet me back here. Where is she?"

Mickey bites his lip in confusion and fear. Why the hell is Ian talking about his piece of shit mother? Mickey knows that Ian hasn't seen her in months. Not since she left him when he was manic after returning to Chicago after his failed stint in the army.

"Told me she….she was gonna meet me back at the house," Ian continues to ramble. "Monica!" Ian calls out louder, trying to sit up.

The daze that Mickey is in quickly ends when he sees Ian fighting with his sheets to get up, calling out for his absentee mother. "Hey!" Mickey calls trying to ease the sick teenager back down. "Stay here, stay here with me."

Shockingly, Ian complies. Mickey thinks it's more as a result of his weakened body than anything else. "You'll look for her?" Ian asks desperately, licking his lips.

Mickey nods his head, rubbing Ian's sweaty cheek softly. "I'll get her, stay here. I'll take care of everything." Ian nods his head before he slowly closes his eyes.

With Ian settled for the moment Mickey rushes down the hall and into Lip's room. "Gallagher! Gallagher! You gotta wake up, fuck head!" Mickey yells as he crashes into Lip's room, turning on the lights.

Lip in instantly awake. "What the fuck, Mickey!"

Liam lets out a cry of distress. Lip turns to Liam, rubbing his back. It's okay, buddy. Go back to sleep." Liam quickly falls back asleep and Lip turns to the ex-con. "You drunk?"

Mickey shakes his head. :"Fuck off, it's Ian."

Lip's eyes go huge. "What's wrong?"

"He's bad. Hot as fuck. Talking about your mother. Not making any sense at all"

Lip runs a hand through his sleep mussed hair. "Fuck!" He's instantly up and is rushing back towards his old room with Mickey at his side. Mickey stays off to the side letting Lip look over his brother.

"Jesus Christ! Ian, Ian. Come on, man! Look at me!" Lip says as he tries to break through his brother's fevered haze. From where Mickey stands he can see that Ian is not cooperating. "Come on, Ian." Lip pleads. "Let me take your temp."

Mickey moves closer to Ian's bedside. "Yo, Gallagher! Cut the shit. Let your brother take your damn temp." To an outsider Mickey's words and tone sound harsh, hell they are. But, Lip knows better. He saw the frantic look on the other boy's face when he told him that Ian was in trouble. Lip saw Mickey pacing restlessly when Ian was low and wouldn't get out of bed. He knows Mickey's scared. The sound of the thermometer beeping brings Lip back to the present.

"What is it?" Mickey asks, his eyes still on Ian. His thumb still stroking Ian's fevered cheek.

"104. Fuck!" Lip curses loudly.

Ian lets out a small whimper, rolling over and away from his two caregivers.

"Shhh, easy." Mickey says softly, squeezing Ian's shoulder.

"Gonna go next door and grab Kev's truck. Gotta get him to the ER," Lip says. "Stay with him. Try and keep his calm."

Mickey nods his head, squeezes Ian's shoulder again. "Not goin' anywhere."

Lip nods his head and is off. He doesn't even stop to grab a pair of shoes or a piece of clothing to put on over his boxers. No time for that. Just as he's about to reach the top of the stars when he hears "Fuck, Ian! No!"

The pure desperation and fear in Mickey's cries propels Lip to turn around. When he turns back to his old room, he's met with an eerily familiar sight. The scene is the same, the players and small details have changed though. He is still standing uselessly to the side watching the scene unfold. But, he is no longer five years old and Ian is not four. This one is taking place in Ian's bed, not in Fiona's where she kept her brother close because the fever from the bronchitis just wouldn't ease up. And it's not Fiona holding Ian down in attempts to prevent him from hurting himself in a fever induced seizure. This time it's Mickey.

But one thing is the same. Lip is scared. He's scared shitless.