A/N: I needed to write more. Oops. Hope you guys are enjoying all this pain as much as I am. Two weeks is an awfully long time, so maybe this will ease that wait.
There he was, seventy-two hours later and not a second late. He had wanted to go alone, but Fiona had insisted she come with. It was fair enough, she was his sister after all and it wasn't like Mickey could just tell her to fuck off. He wanted to talk to Ian alone, he wanted to say things to him he didn't want the others to hear. They didn't need to know about all the things Ian had been up to in the last few months, between the suitcases and the porno. Mickey just needed to get all of this out to him, us his words. He just didn't know if he could do that in front of the eldest sister.
Mickey sighed as he paced the waiting area, icy orbs darting along the sterile surfaces and white walls. Fuck, it really did feel like a nut house, and all Mickey could think about is all that shit you hear about mental hospitals. Patients being abused. Killing themselves. Doctors using patients in inappropriate ways. So help him, if anyone dared to do anything to Ian he'd go homicidal. He wouldn't hesitate to bash someone's head in if they touch him. Ian's sick, and if some creep offered a fuck in exchange for something, he wouldn't doubt Ian would take it. God. It made Mickey want to puke again.
He had in fact thrown up multiple times in the last two days, nerves alone upsetting his stomach. He couldn't handle all of this, especially now that Svetlana had started throwing Ian's shit out. Mickey had to haul it all back inside, and if it was out again when he got home he was going to flip. Ian wasn't going to leave. He wasn't allowing it. A hand on his shoulder made Mickey tense, his head snapping back to see Fiona staring at him. Had she said something? He hadn't heard her say anything. So, Mickey yanked away from her touch for good measure. He didn't much like Fiona out of all of the Gallagher's. It just seemed to him that her family was the furthest thing from her mind sometimes. While he was dealing with Ian, she was God knows where. Who lets there phone die when they have a brother who had just went missing? Didn't seem right. Fiona meant well, but her head was in the clouds.
"You're making me dizzy, just sit down and wait." she said, and Mickey had to scoff, "You pacing isn't going to make them bring him out any faster." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the heavy door, just wanting to see Ian. To make sure he was okay. He wouldn't be alright himself until he saw his ginger lover in the flesh.
"Do you think he's doing alright in there? You think he's letting them help him?" he asked, his face set in stone, "I can't help, but fuckin' think the worst. You know? I just...I want him to be better, to be happy again. That's not too much to ask right?" Fiona nodded, crossing her own arm over her chest to mimic Mickey's motion. She felt terribly guilty for the way everything had went down the other night, she should have been with them to pick Ian up from the police station. Instead Jimmy had her so fucked up in the head that all she could do was run to Gus's for the night. God, that was a different time, different place kind of thoughts. She didn't want to think about that mess right now.
"I'm sure he's alright, Mickey. They have some great doctor's here. They'll take care of him." she hoped at least. She'd be lying if she didn't admit she was worried. Honestly, Fiona had no idea how she hadn't gone completely grey from the constant stressors in her life. At this rate it should have happened by now. It was then that the heavy doors swung open, and Mickey could have collapsed with exhaustion upon seeing Ian upright and breathing. It wasn't long before he noticed how glazed over Ian looked, and he closed his eyes for half a second. Of course he'd be drugged. Fiona reached out for Ian before he had the chance to, a wave of jealousy watching over him, but he couldn't help but smile softly. Ian was alive and that's all he could ask for.
As soon as Fiona moved away, Mickey was in front of his lover, hands coming out to rub at his bare arms. He was cold, and maybe it was the awful yellow they had him in, but he looked sickly, "Hey..." he whispered, catching a hazy green gaze, "How ya holdin' up?" Mickey asked, getting a small nod and a whispered 'okay' in response. He let out a soft sigh, and tugged him in for a tight hug, a hand coming up to smooth down the back of his head. Mickey didn't want to let him go, but he knew they all needed to talk, which again, he was dreading a bit. It was only when Fiona cleared her throat that Mickey let go of Ian, but still kept a firm grip on his hand as he led them to all sit.
Ian sat on the small table and Mickey's brow furrowed, taking a seat in front of him. He didn't know how to start this conversation, but apparently Fiona did, "What did the doctors say? Have you been cooperating?" Ian nodded once, biting at his lower lip anxiously. He looked uncomfortable, fingers playing with the hospital bracelet that was tight around his wrist, "Ian?" Fiona pushed, wanting to get answers out of him with their limited time.
"Y-Yeah...Yeah, I'm being good." Well, when he wasn't trying to get out while someone wasn't looking that was. He had been shoved into more walls in the past seventy-two hours than in the time he worked at the club. Except this was him being restrained and poked with needles. It wasn't pleasant. Not that any of the times he hook up at the clubs were pleasant. It was just primal. It was to get off. It was just to release. He didn't feel he could even control himself when he got like that, he did it most times just to get the money. Guys paid better if you put out a bit, so Ian did. Even if he couldn't look at himself in the mirror after. He hated who he saw there.
"Ian?" Mickey's voice drew him back, "You listening?"
Ian shook his head with a small frown, "Sorry, yeah...I'm a little out of it. The doctor's said...She thinks I'm bi-polar." the words choked him, "She said if I take the medication. If I...If I come to to therapy that it'll be manageable. I can go home." his gaze flickered up to Mickey, he didn't know where his home was though at this point. He had cheated on Mickey. Ian had cheated so many times, and it was so sickening that he could do that to him. "I can go home at the end of the week, as long as I behave and...and don't cause any scenes."
"Ian, that's fantastic." Fiona said with a bright smile, reaching out to take his hand in her own, squeezing tight, "We'll make sure you get taken care of, we're not ignoring this. We won't let you down." she whispered, tears leaking out of her already red-rimmed gaze. Things had been so tough the last few days, it was taking a physical toll on everyone in the family. Mickey's brows were knitted together though, lips in a tight line. What had he meant by that?
"What kind of scenes?" Mickey asked in a worried tone, "What happened?" Ian's face paled considerably and he shrugged a little, tugging absently at the bracelet once more.
"They're just strict here." he murmured, afraid to look at Mickey at this point, "They don't take shit, if you act out in any way. They sedate you." Ian cracked a pathetic smile, "Apparently, I'm a handful." Mickey was seeing red. They can just sedate people like that? Ian could have been acting that bad, could he? Hell, if someone tried to keep him in here Mickey would be stir crazy as well. Mickey reached out and squeezed Ian's knee, his voice coming out in a snarl.
"You'll be out soon. Just, do what the pricks say. Take your meds and...fuck Ian, just get the help. That's why we're here. That's why we made you admit yourself. We can't keep doing this. We can't keep going back and forth with this shit, you needed this help. You really did." His hand was shaking so hard Mickey tugged back, missing the way Ian seemed to deflate from the lack of contact. Fiona sighed a bit at the display and stood, their visiting time almost up. She hated that they had to leave so soon, but they'd be back. She'd make sure of it.
"Mickey, it's time to go..." the eldest Gallagher said gently, but Mickey shook his head. He glanced over to her and nodded once, speaking in an eerily calm voice for a Milkovich. Guess he was full of surprises lately.
"I'll be right out...I just, I need a minute with him." Fiona understood, those two needed privacy and she wasn't one to get in the way of that. She gave Ian one last hug, and a kiss to his cheek before leaving. On the way out, all she could think about was how jealous she was of the relationship Ian and Mickey had. They were so in love. So in love that it was almost sickening. The way they looked at one another, the way she watched Mickey around Ian in the hospital. It was so clear those two had something Fiona hadn't found yet. She had passion with Jimmy, and safety with Gus, but true love? Fuck, she didn't know anymore. She had been fucked one too many times to know.
Back inside, Mickey shifted to cup Ian's cheeks in his warm hands, just letting his thumbs brush against the ivory skin. Mickey wanted to get sick, he didn't want to ask the next question, but he had to know, "Ian..." his voice cracked, "How many guys?" the Milkovich muttered, "I need to fuckin' know before I go completely postal. I need to know..." Ian started tearing up, fat tears spilling over in mere seconds which made Mickey feel terribly guilty.
"I...Four? Five? I think..." he whispered not wanting to lie anymore, hiccuping as he pulled away from him to get up quickly, "They didn't mean anything to me...it was...it was just..." he was crying hard now, the effects of the drugs he was on making Ian incredibly sensitive. Mickey got up as well, grabbing Ian's wrist before he could go anywhere. He believed him, it fucking hurt, but Mickey believed that it was nothing.
"Why?" he asked, "Ian? Why did you hook up with those men?" Was he not good enough? That's what he had originally thought, hell, Ian was gorgeous and he could get any guy with a snap of his fingers.
"I-I...I don't know, okay? It was like...I was outside my body or...or it was for the money. I fuckin' hate myself Mickey. I do...I fuckin' hate what I have done to you. You...You have every right to break things off with me, but I...I never wanted it to end like this. I'm sorry." Ian yanked away, crying hard as a few of the nurses rushed in to his aid. Everything went so fast that Mickey wasn't sure what was even happening. Suddenly Ian's back was too him, and their was a heavy hand on his chest to hold him back.
"That's enough for today, Mr. Milkovich. Come back another day." the nurse spat, as if it was Mickey's fault, letting her had drop from his chest. The thug was fuming, Ian put words into his mouth, and now he was going to be thinking this shit all night.
"Wait! Ian! Who the fuck said I wanted to end things?!" he yelled, but the nurses were dragging Ian away and with all the commotion, Mickey didn't know if he even heard him, "Fuck!" he hissed, dragging a hand down his face.
This wasn't fucking over.
He'd come tomorrow.
Things would get set straight then.