Mickey stood out in the hallway a few days later, unable to feel any emotion. At least, on the outside.
He knew it would happen. That Gallagher was going to get hurt. That something would fucking happen and he'd have no way to be there to protect the guy he cares about. They'd said it was a mine. That his company was driving one of the Humvees or whatever the fuck the Army called it, and ran over a mine they hadn't caught.
Ian had been walking ahead of the Humvee when the mine exploded, been thrown by the force and hit a rock or something hard enough to knock him unconscious. He hadn't been able to do anything about it.
That's why Gallagher was lying in a hospital bed, in a coma. They'd waited three days for him to wake up, and when he didn't, they sent him home to the hospital for treatment. Hasn't woken up still. The doctors aren't sure if he even will or not.
Mickey could only stand there as they all listened. He could only think of his red head lying in that hospital room. He could only think of how powerless Ian was, unable to wake up, and how powerless he was to help Gallagher.
No. instead, he'd been sitting at a wedding feeling happy and smiling.
His fucking nightmare had come true. Only lucky thing was that the red head is still breathing.
Mandy and Lip had wanted to get on a return flight home immediately, but Fiona convinced them to stay in Connecticut and have their honeymoon. They could see Ian when they get back. Maybe Ian would be awake by then.
At least he won't be in another country anymore. No, Gallagher's home and he's there to stay.
Carl's face was eerily blank, a lighter in his hands that the kid kept turning on and off. Liam stayed in Fiona's lap, quietly learning about Ian's condition while Debbie clung to Mickey's side, unable to hold back her tears.
Mickey didn't want to say it, and he won't, but he liked to think she was crying for the both of them.
Only a small wave of relief hit Mickey when the doctor said Gallagher had chance of waking up. That they had taken him off the meds to see if he'll wake up. He watched the doctor walk away. Mickey figured that his siblings would want to see their brother privately. But much to his surprise, Fiona looked at him with soft, sad eyes.
"Go on, Mickey. Go see Ian." She said quietly, shifting Liam to get comfortable again while he stared at the ex-con with wide tear-filled eyes.
"You're his family. You're more important than the guy he'd been fucking before he left." He said, shaking his head. Really, he wasn't ready to see Ian all bandaged and cut up. Not again.
Fiona seemed to find the fear hiding in his eyes and nodded, standing up.
"Go home. Get some rest and come back when you're ready. I'll have Debs call you when we leave." Fiona came over and hugged him, Liam and Debbie joining in while Carl stood tall and tough a few feet away. Mickey was tense, like when they first started hugging him. But this time, it wasn't the contact that made him cringe. It was his fear and the love they were openly giving him.
The ex-con pulled away while nodding, then went over to Carl. They just looked at each other, their eyes sending the message of "Don't do anything stupid." Mickey could see how much he and Carl acted alike. Which also meant he knew what Carl could do in here.
Carl nodded at the message, pocketing his lighter before Mickey walked out.
Mickey didn't go home. He didn't want to look at the apartment while he saw images of Ian in his head.
Instead, he drove to the baseball field and sat in their dugout. Yeah, he considered it as his and Ian's. it's all about territory, not touchy-feely shit. That's always what he told everybody, even now.
"I fucking knew it…" he kept telling himself, rubbing his fists through his hair. "I knew he'd get hurt. I should've told him not to fucking go, dammit!"
Mickey quickly stood. He was anxious and angry and scared. At himself, at the Army, at the life his Firecrotch had to live with. It was their fucking fault. If Frank hadn't been a worthless drunk or Monica didn't abandon them constantly, or if Gallagher had lived with his real father, then he'd never have had the desire to get the fuck out of here.
If the Army hadn't told him it was the only way he'd get out of Chicago, Firecrotch would have been safely attending college.
If Mickey hadn't been a scared little bitch and told Ian he was in love with him, then just maybe Gallagher would have decided to stay.
But life was never fucking fair or easy or even simple. Shit always happens and so look where life landed them.
Life had given Mickey a non-existent mother and a drunk, abusive, and homophobic father. Life had beaten into Mickey to only care for himself and that feeling anything else made him weak. Life made him fuck things up again and again.
But life also gave him Ian Gallagher. Life gave them that first connection and made them want more. Life is what made them love each other.
And life brought Ian back to Mickey, alive and breathing.
Mickey slowly calmed down, gripping the chain-link. Maybe things can be different this time.
He's never gonna be a fucking softie, but he can lower his guard more. He's gotten along with the Gallaghers, knows that they're the ones who see he gives a shit about their brother.
For the first time in his life, Mickey Milkovich actually wants to give a shit.