He heard Mandy answer the front door, heard her greet the person and he just rolled over onto his front and concentrated on trying to get a little more sleep. And then someone was grabbing him by the back of his shirt and he was being thrown across the room. A fist connected with his face and he heard Mandy scream and he thought: this is it, someone's found out I'm gay.
"You fucking piece of shit!"
He recognised that voice, that was the voice of the guy who fucked Mandy sometimes, Lip. Yeah that was Lip's voice. Why the fuck was Lip trying to kill him? The guy hadn't struck him as being homophobic. But hey, he guessed anybody could be.
At first he was too dazed to fight back and then he didn't even have to because Mandy was there and in true Milkovich style had Lip in a headlock. She pulled him away from Mickey, pushed him into a wall and then let go, putting herself between Lip and her brother.
"Mick, you okay?" she asked, not taking her eyes off of Lip who was slumped against the opposite wall, obviously trying to work out what the fuck had just happened.
Mickey rubbed his eyes and slowly clambered up onto his feet. His hand was throbbing again and he tucked it into his side protectively. Still, he didn't like the fact that Mandy was the one standing between him and Lip. He didn't like the idea of anybody hurting her, he didn't want her to put herself in the way for him.
"I'm alright," he said, dabbing at the blood running from his nose with the bottom of his shirt.
"Lip, what the actual fuck?" Mandy shouted at Lip and Mickey could practically taste her anger. He was just confused. "Mickey's not done shit to you, why the fuck did you hit him?"
Mickey kind of liked the fact that he wasn't the only one that was confused.
Lip sneered, which looked kind of weird because usually he was quite a smiley guy from what Mickey could gather. He didn't really know him. "She doesn't have a fucking clue does she?" he asked, obviously looking at Mickey, not really talking to Mandy at all, "Does he really mean that little? You really know how to make someone feel like shit, don't you Mickey, you made him think he was nothing!"
And he honestly had no clue what Lip was on about, so Mickey just stood there and stared. He just waited because he knew Lip was going to say something eventually. The guy looked like he was about to snap.
"Lip, what the hell are you talking about?" Mandy asked, backing up until she was closer to Mickey, her fists clenched. And Mickey knew she'd protect him, even if he didn't really need it. "I don't know what the fuck you're on, but Mickey hasn't done anything."
He loved her belief in him, loved even more that it wasn't misplaced.
Lip snorted. "Why don't you tell her Mickey?" he asked, "She already knows your gay, would it really matter that much to tell her? Or are you just that ashamed of him? Are you just that much of a coward?"
"Dude, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about," Mickey said, because the way that Lip was looking at him, like he'd happily kill Mickey was kind of unnerving. The old him probably would have just laughed, but it was freaking him out.
"Bullshit!" Lip shouted at him, although maybe it was more of a scream, "You know exactly what I'm talking about!"
Mickey flinched, he couldn't help it.
"Well I don't," Mandy said, her fists clenching and unclenching down by her sides, "So how about you stop fucking screaming at my brother and tell me what the fuck is wrong!"
Lip smirked, like he was going to enjoy this. Like he thought what he had to say was going to bring Mickey's world crashing down. Maybe it was. "Mickey's never told you he was fucking Ian, did he?" Lip asked, talking to Mandy but looking at Mickey with hatred burning in his eyes. Mickey had never thought it was possible to hate someone as much as Lip apparently hated him. "That he had Ian convinced what they had was love because Mickey got shot for him and threatened to kill for him and made Ian think he kind of liked having him around." Lip cracked his knuckles and when neither of the Milkovich's said anything, Lip carried on talking. "He made Ian think that maybe he meant something and then Ian comes back and Mickey pretends like he doesn't even fucking know him, like none of it even happened."
Ian, it was Ian.
How had he not realised? He'd been searching the memories he didn't have access to for a name, looking for some kind of answer as to who he could apologise to. He'd been trying to remember so hard who the guy was that he was in love with. He'd been trying to remember a name. And he'd already remembered. It had been the only thing he'd remembered and he hadn't even realised what that name meant. How much it meant.
Mandy turned and looked at him, her eyes wide and her expression sort of stunned, but she understood. She didn't blame him because she understood. She knew it wasn't his fault. She knew he didn't remember. She knew that.
"I– "
He didn't know what he was even trying to say.
"It's alright," she said, grabbing him up into a hug, pulling him against her and falling with him as his knees buckled. He felt sick. He didn't know why he felt sick, but he felt sick. Maybe it was the thought of having upset Ian. Or maybe it was because he felt like something was finally slotting into place
"Did Ian tell you that Dad tried to kill him? That Mickey was in a coma for two weeks?" Mandy asked, staring at Lip as though daring him to say a word while she was speaking, "Did he tell you that they had to operate on Mickey's brain to get the swelling down?"
Lip shook his head, no.
"And Ian couldn't have told you what happened afterwards anyway, because he doesn't know," Mandy continued, like she didn't know how to stop. But Mickey didn't care. "You wouldn't know that when Mickey woke up he didn't know where he was or who he was, who the hell I was! You wouldn't know that he's completely different and that I've had to teach him how to be a dick, how to act like the Mickey everyone knows just to stop them from finding out. Because they'd take him back to the hospital and they'd all find out why our Dad tried to kill him and I refuse to lose my brother again to some homophobic prick on a street corner."
Her fingers dug hard into Mickey's shoulder as she kept a tight hold of him, like she was afraid he'd suddenly disappear if she didn't hold on.
"So don't come here and fucking yell at him for shit he can't even remember," she said, "Because you don't know shit Lip, none of you know shit about what we've been through."
Lip was staring at them both, looking sort of stunned, but also looking like he was searching for some trace of a lie in their eyes. It seemed to be when she realised that Lip didn't completely believe her that Mandy decided to turn her back on him completely, to just pretend that he wasn't there.
"You okay?" she asked him, staring into his face and he could see the tears in her eyes that she was refusing to let fall.
He nodded sort of numbly. "Are you mad at me?" he asked her, because he had to know that. He had to make sure they were okay, Mandy was the only thing that he had. He couldn't lose her over something he hardly even remembered, he couldn't.
She offered him a weak smile, like she thought it was typical that would be what he was worrying about even when he had a bloody nose and a split lip and his hand was hurting like a son of a bitch. "Well, I didn't really see that one coming," she admitted after a minute, "But it does sort of make sense, why he used to put up with your dirty ass and why you never hit him for eating the last pizza bagel."
"He was there when I got shot, wasn't he?" Mickey asked numbly and Mandy looked at him in surprise.
She thought about it for a minute and then nodded, "Yeah, I guess he probably was since he worked at the Kash and Grab, why, you remember that?"
He shrugged, "Just his voice, he kept telling me to look at him and I remember hating the fact that he was there in between me and a gun, I remember thinking that it should be the other way around. I remember wanting to protect him," he explained, not sure if he was doing a good job of explaining or not, "But there were never faces, it was never a completely memory, I just remember words and thoughts, but didn't have a clue who I was remembering."
For some reason she smiled and when she saw him frowning, she laughed, "Sorry, I'm just having a hard time imagining the old you actually giving a shit about someone who wasn't family."
He smiled because he knew she didn't mean that as an insult. And how could it really insult him anyway? He wasn't that person anymore. Maybe he'd remember again at some point; but he knew he'd never be exactly the same. He didn't even think he wanted to be.
"Holy shit, you're not joking," Lip said, drawing their attention back to him. He was standing there, rubbing his knuckles of one hand and staring at them with wide eyes. "You really can't remember?"
Mickey shook his head, "No," he admitted, "And I'm sorry about upsetting Ian, you have to know I didn't mean to, I just had no idea that we were like. . . that."
Lip's mouth opened and closed for a minute and then he ran his hands through his hair, "Holy fuck, Mickey Milkovich just apologised." He looked like this was a lot to take in, it probably was if Mickey was being completely honest. "So wait, let me get this right, you couldn't even remember who you were?"
He shook his head, feeling weird sitting there on the floor with Mandy, but he didn't really want to get up. It solved the problem when Lip sank down onto the floor as well. "I only really know what Mandy's told me," he said, "And I remember bits of stuff with Ian, but I didn't realise it was Ian until now."
"You remembered Ian's name though," Mandy put in.
And yet again, something seemed to click in Lip's mind, they could see it in his eyes. "Fuck, that was when you were acting all weird in the kitchen," he said and they nodded, "I just thought you were being a dick and forgetting about Ian and shit."
Mickey didn't bother pointing out that technically he had forgotten about Ian.
"Sorry I punched you," Lip said eventually when the silence started to become uncomfortable, "But you're really got at pretending to be the Mickey that we all knew."
He just shrugged. He already knew he was good at pretending. Sometimes it felt like the only thing he did. "Not your fault," he muttered, "I just don't really want to get my head kicked in for liking blokes, you know?"
Lip offered him a weak, dazed sort of smile, "Yeah, I get that."
