Ian sometimes wonders why he ends up in the situations he does because he can see them happening before and during and after. The entire scenario splayed out almost as a map for him - for what he should avoid but still, he can never walk away in time.
And maybe it's that there is some part of him that wants to be called out on it. Because he sits and smiles and shoves the better part of himself under a rug with a paper cut on his hand that is all that's left to show for it. People want a disaster; they beg and roll around in their sleep for something that will pull their feet out from under them because it's something to do. Misery loves company and Ian can look at his hands and see all these damn paper cuts and he is miserable –
But no one is looking at his hands and his face won't let him give it away.
Mickey moved sending a shock of electricity through his body and Ian turned away from Todd's vacant anger.
"What are you doing?"
The piercing blue eyes looked lack luster as they rolled around in their sockets and avoided a gaze longer than 5 consecutive seconds. "I'm gonna go." A slight hiss of pain worked its way through his body and Ian wondered if Mickey has audibly gasped or if he could just feel the tendrils of the man reaching out to wrap around his own bones.
He thinks he read that somewhere – being able to feel someone else's physical sensations. Either that or he was just so far gone that it wasn't even worth the worry anymore.
"No! What?" Mandy's eyes bugged from her head and Ian could feel his heart race. "You can't go are you crazy? You need to sit and relax and get better and Mickey you can't leave –" It was the worst kind of plea. The one that reveals you more than your challenger.
As Mickey moved, his shirt stuck in awkward bits – dried blood pulling at the fabric in motions disguised to make you think this was fine. "No I'm good. I'm gonna go."
"No wait—" Mandy walked over placing her palms desperately over his chest.
Mickey looked singed by the contact and his eyes briefly fired a stare Ian knew well. "Get the fuck off me—" His body ripped away.
"Get the fuck off me!" The gravel underneath their feet felt rocky and oddly appropriate. He couldn't get his footing quite right and each time Mickey pulled away from him the world tipped. Each man left with nothing but frayed nerves and intentions stabbed to bits because they were good and right and leading them straight to hell.
"Oh you wanna fag bash?" His words made him shake. "Will that make you feel like a man?"
Ian bunched his hands into fists as the memory of being thrown from Mickey's grasp danced around the same words. He could still feel his sweater – the stray bits of fabric that got caught in a chip in his nail and even back then. He was pulling pieces of him off to take and make his.
Mickey gave his sister one last look and Ian could tell you that he was trying to apologize to her. But he didn't. He kicked at the blanket tangled around his foot and walked right past her instead.
Todd's eyes beady and narrowed watched with a disdain that Ian had to wonder whether it was rooted in his character verses the circumstance.
"Are you coming back?" The crack in Mandy's voice took the air out of the room. "Mickey?"
His hand lingered on their door and Ian could see his fingers play on it. Tapping in an incessant beat of such clear meaning. The twitch of indecision to go with what you should do and what you want to do. And when the 'c' on his middle finger slammed down harder than the 'k' Ian could see that he'd lost to himself.
A lose lose situation when you're paying either way – Mickey walked out of the apartment and didn't spare another word.
Todd huffed out a laugh of disgust and turned toward him. "Well he was pleasant."
Mandy stormed over, each foot pounding into the floor with intent to bruise. "He's my brother." The words were punctuated with such intensity that Todd actually flinched.
"And he lives here too?"
Ian wanted to scream at him and ask him why he was there. "No he was just – passing through." He knows that – he knows that. Todd was here all the time. There are such things as dumb questions, but the one's Ian hates the most are these. The backward passivity of speaking that is only designed to make you explain without asking for what you want..
Todd eyed him questioningly. "But he lives upstairs, doesn't he?" Heat started to warm Ian's skin and he wondered if he was turning red. "I mean I see him all the time. At night smoking on the balcony. He's said hi to me before."
The doorknob shattered a picture frame as Mandy threw it aside. Glass shards exploded leaving Todd reflexively jumping and using his arms as guards against his face.
Ian rushed to follow her as she wildly sprinted down the hall and threw her body against walls from too much force of movement. It was like watching a rag doll trying to run for her life. A terrifying thing to see after you but even sadder to have to watch trip and fall.
Mickey hadn't made it very far – only 3 hallways and 2 corners to the left and then the right. His face expectant the moment he stilled and turned to await whatever wanted him.
"How could you!" Mandy shrieked hysterically. Her right hand rounded up and streaked across his face with a resounding SMACK.
Mickey's pale skin burned a bright angry red as she pulled back to land a second hit with a slapping sting even louder than the first.
Ian stood nearly 20 feet back watching with the interest one might have in seeing a lion being kicked in the face. Mickey snarled and grimaced as each blow hit again and again but his body remained rigid. Because the lion is ashamed and it ate its favorite people so it won't fight back. The cage door is open and there is the scent of fresh meat spurring forward a hungeruntil it realizes - it's only himself.
He's bleeding out and rotting with grief for all his lost friends. The kicks don't hurt as much as that.
Mandy closed her hands and pounding again and again against his chest began to weep in rage. "I hate you!" Her words scratched and broken and full of love that it made it hard to watch. "I hate you, I hate you—"
Ian felt the lump in his throat. He wondered how long it had been there and if Mickey's hurt as much as his did.
The wails quieted to simpering sobs and Ian's gaze fell with Mandy's crumpling legs. Mickey's body moved with hers to the floor and his arms raised slowly to hold her while she dug chipped painted nails into the already bloody shirt. A breath of release left his parted lips.
"Oh my god Ian are you ok?" Todd's voice sounded from over his right shoulder and Ian shuddered because his breath felt wrong. "You're bleeding."
He trailed a glance down his chest and legs to notice the tracks of blood lining the carpet and ending at his feet. He'd stepped on glass.
"Yea I'm fine." Ian spoke looking directly into Mickey's eyes.
He'd been attacked by a lion but it was okay –
Mickey's nose wrinkled above the shuddering strands of his sisters matted hair. Ian wondered if he could smell it. The scent that Todd had left on his body with each touch and kiss and flick of tongue that wasn't Mickey's.
He hoped he could.
He hoped that it smelled different than the way Mickey would linger in sighs and acidic tears on bite marks and bruises. He hoped he could taste it on his tongue and in the back of his mouth like the blood on the floor.
He hoped it tasted as sour as it felt.