Iggy had busted through the front door like the devil himself was after him. His hands shaky messes as he threw open the cabinet and reached for a gun. The fucker couldn't even load it he was so on edge.
"The fuck is wrong with you?" Mickey eyed him over a bowl of cereal. The last bowl of fruit loops which Mandy was no doubt gonna skin him over.
His brother turned wild aiming the gun at Mickey's head and he ducked under the table missing a stray bullet that wouldn't have hit him anyways.
"Jesus Mickey!" Iggy yelled at him like it was his fault he'd almost shot him. "What are you doing here?"
He sat under the table eyes screwed shut counting each pulse that threatened to tear through his skin. "Are you gonna shoot at me again?"
The clunk of the revolver hit the wood above his head and he peeked back over seeing that the bowl was now a shattered mess of milk and soggy rainbows. He didn't have the luxury of being worried about getting shot at, but he could mourn his breakfast.
"Best way to kill someone is a bullet between the eyes." Iggy jammed a finger against his own face like he was the victim. "Best fucking way. Clean and to the point."
It wasn't directed toward Mickey. This was what Iggy did – talked aloud like saying it would fix it and he really was a coward. More than the rest of them. Puked the first time he got stabbed and actually cried when their mom left.
It was funny because Iggy didn't even know her first name.
Mickey pulled his chair up off the ground and sat down while eyeing the trigger as if by some great karmic surge it would magically pull and lodge a bullet into his brain.
"You wanna know the best way to kill someone?" He didn't know why he was saying it, Iggy wouldn't get it and it was Mickey's best-kept secret. But maybe that's why he was the best to tell, because he was a fucking idiot. "You make them do it themselves."
His brother's ragged teeth shone through a curled sneer. "How the hell do you do that?"
Sirens could be heard gaining volume down their street and he wondered if they were coming for them.
"If you have to ask then you've already fucking failed."
Ian was all muscle. Even when he wasn't, he was. He used to work out like a madman and Mickey would roll his eyes at him because what's the point in running if there's not something chasing you? And maybe that's why he still managed to stay relatively in shape without ever doing stupid fucking marine drills, but still Ian insisted upon them.
When he got the flu a few winters back he was a whiney little bitch – couldn't work out for days and sat eating fucking poptarts. Not even the good kind with the frosting just plain blueberry poptarts.
Mickey swears that even during that week of crumbs and awkward jelly fingerprints Ian got more in shape. He was just that kind of asshole, the kind that didn't need to try but still did. The worst kind of perfect.
"You're shaking."
He clenched his jaw against each chill and buried back further into the couch to calm each tremor. Ian stood before him in worn sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He didn't bother to put on a shirt and it pissed him off because it wasn't fair.
And it wasn't like putting an alcoholic before the best whiskey it was more like putting a broken arm between a vice just to see how much more they could crush it. When are you gonna call uncle? When are you gonna admit that you've finally had enough?
"He's been puking all morning." Mandy walked over placing a hand on Ian's bare arm and gave him a cup of coffee. He smiled warmly and Mickey doubled over again. "I'm worried it's because he lost so much blood."
"Oh fuck off—" He gagged and choked on air, his stomach offering nothing else to expel. "You're giving yourself too much credit."
His sister's eyes clouded with more emotions than he'd thought she was even able to feel. "You're being really unfair Mickey."
There it was again, that fucking word that kicked around his head at the sight of Ian and each scar dug deep into his flesh. Unfair. What was fair? They weren't fair. Constantly scratching at each other's skin and stabbing your own sibling. Hiding away and ignoring calls just to tell yourself that it's okay because you can't handle it so now they have to. Fair is fucking fair is unfair and it was time to suck it up.
Ian sighed letting the muscles in his chest twitch with the exhale. "Where's Lip?"
"Out." Mandy bit the word. "Somewhere, I don't know I don't care he's your brother."
Mickey smiled. "You should—" He tried to swallow it down but it's just like when you start laughing at a funeral. "You should hit him with your car."
He sat there damn near laughing and jammed his fist between his teeth to cut off the sound. Maybe he had lost too much blood.
Ian made a valiant effort to not find humor in the words. He screwed his mouth up trying to pass the motion off as itching his nose but it was a smile, a fucking laugh.
"That's not funny." Mandy huffed.
Ian slung an arm around her shoulder drawing her frail angry body in closer to his skin. Mickey's laughter cut off as he thought about how it felt to touch him.
Sharp knocks started on their door and Mandy used the opportunity to pull away. Mickey shuddered again with a new shock of chills and Ian took one silent step forward. He could feel the air start to buzz around them and when the red head leaned over to pull a blanket around Mickey's shoulder – his fingers made sure to just not connect. And that was worse.
He grabbed with each tattooed fuck u-up to cling to the blanket tighter like the last salvation he had. Ian just stared, a million thoughts screaming in his head and being lost on his lips.
"Ian?" Mandy turned her head and Mickey could see it on her face. "Umm Todd is here." The last word had been reduced to a whisper, the ugly secret of having some type of evidential life beyond great love.
"What?" Ian's chest tightened again and Mickey turned away from it all.
The door opened further revealing the man he'd seen so many times from upstairs. The same man he'd constructed stories and ideas about – the asshole who was afraid of the dark and waxed his back and hadn't spoken to his perfectly nice mother in years. At least that's what Mickey liked to think.
Todd offered a smile, "Hey."
The voice grated on him and before he even realized it he was puking again. The soft forming of the words, it made him sick. Because there's a distinct taste of disgust that being desperately needy for something not real puts in your mouth.
Ian moved away from him and the room felt colder. Mickey kept his head turned away toward the bucket Mandy had planted there an hour ago and closed his eyes because Todd couldn't see him, couldn't recognize him.
But more importantly, he couldn't see Ian touch him.
"What are you doing here?"
A shuffle of feet worked their way across the floor and he silently thanked his sister for not closing the door. The famous Milkovich notion of saying fuck off you're not welcome.
"I hadn't heard from you and I was getting worried."
Worried? As if he needed to worry about Ian. Ian who could kill you in your sleep or in the time it took you to blink. Ian who was the most dangerous kind of villain because he'll jam his hands inside you to feel around for what makes you tick first.
"I – uh I told you've I've been busy."
That's when the silence pressed in on him. When all other parties ceased to speak and Mickey looked back out toward the window thinking that reality was relative anyways so if he just didn't make a sound or look maybe it would be okay. He could fade into invisibility like when he'd plaster Mandy against the wall in their house in times of an especially violent eruption. He'd used his body to make her disappear. To keep her safe from the harsh fists and pricks of rage that punched cocaine into his system with each laced knuckle and deep cut. She had become invisible to Terry during those moments.
But then again, no one was standing before him and taking the hits. No one wanted to use their body for his sense of transparency.
And as the seconds ticked by and Mickey counted to 100 he knew that it was over. Todd fucking saw him – knew that he was hiding out upstairs smoking cigarettes at midnight and mocking him with smiles.
Fuck Todd, he knew he never liked him.