Note To Readers-This is chapter five. And It will be an Ian chapter, it may suck, hardcore because my brain is still telling me to write Mickey. -Alayna

It was fucking hot, and dusty, and lonely. No one ever really talked to Ian. They would talk to him when they were barking orders at him; but no one ever had a conversation with him.

They ignored him; unless it was absolutely necessary.

Ian really didn't mind being ignored; it depressed him that he had virtually no friends, but it didn't bother him. He liked the silence; it was always so loud in Chicago.

His fellow soldiers would always protect him; it was code. But once Mickey left they had all found out about Ian's sexuality. They didn't react well. They called him a fag and he even got hit by a few of them. It was intollerance; but there was nothing Ian could do about, he didn't want to cause trouble. It was better to just let it go.

Ian really wished Mickey was with him; at least he would have someone to talk to.

He wrote Mickey letters all the time, long letters, lots of pages; but in the end he sent the short quickly thrown together less than a page long letters. He didn't want to bother Mickey. He didn't think Mickey would forget about him, but that wouldn't stop him from being Mickey and doing what he wanted. Ian didn't want to tie Mickey down.

Ian knew that Mickey was in Chicago fucking different guys every night; he had to be. Mickey wouldn't go with out just because he was still in the fucking desest.

And to be honest it hurt a little to know that Mickey was fucking other guys; but Ian accepted it, he knew it would happen. And he had never asked Mickey not to fuck anyone else, because he knew Mickey would anyway.

As Ian marched through the sand the only thing on his mind was Mickey and his family.

He had asked Lip to look after Mickey; make sure he was okay. He knew Lip would do it for him. He had told Fiona to tell Lip that he should invite Mickey over to dinner at their house; he knew Mickey couldn't cook worth shit, he wanted Mickey to have a decent meal at least once. He knew Mick wouldn't go running back to the Milkovich house so Mandy wouldn't be cooking for him. He asked Fi not to tell anyone that it was his idea for Mickey to come over to dinner; he didn't want Mickey to find out, if Mick knew he wouldn't show up. That was just the way it went.

Ian hoped that Mickey was doing alright, all of Mickey's letters to him said that he was okay, but Ian knew Mickey, he knew that Mick was a good liar.

Mickey's letters were getting longer and longer each time. He hoped that meant that Mickey still loved him.

Mickey had never said I love you at the end of his letters; Ian didn't expect him to. It just wasn't something Mickey would do.

Ian put it at the end of every letter he sent.

At night when Ian was in bed, he would cry. Nothing dramatic; no sobbing or hiccuping breathes, just tears. He knew he was crying because he was so completely alone. He didn't have Mickey with him, he didn't have his family with him. He had nothing.

Ian was becoming more and more depressed as the days went by. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see Mickey. He wanted to see how much his family had changed.

Some days it seemed like it was unbearable, Ian thought about hurting himself. Making them send him home. He thought of ways to cause himself to be discharged, honorably or not. He didn't care any more. He justwanted to be with Mickey, and his family. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be surrounded by sand and heat and people who hated him.

But he would always snap out of it and remember why he was there. Why he was fighting for his country.

He got a letter from Mickey, asking how long his deployment would be; Ian wanted to tell him that it would be over really soon, that he was coming home. But he couldn't, because he wasn't going home, not for a long time. Ian cried as he wrote those words. He wanted to go home.

He never thought that he would be regretting his decision so much, but it was too much for him to handle.

He wanted to serve, he really did; but he wanted to be with his family, Mickey included.

He wanted to live with Mickey and have dinner with his brothers and sisters.

He missed going shopping with Mandy and smoking a joint with Lip and having deep conversations. He missed the small things. He missed the snow and the crime. He missed the noise of the El. He missed the chaos of dinner at his house. He missed fucking in the dugouts. He missed working at the Kash and Grab. Fuck, he even missed Frank; Frank fucking hated him and treated him like shit, but Ian actually missed him.

In Mickey's next letter he told Ian that he had went out and bought a laptop. Ian was ecstatic; they could Skype now. He would get to see Mickey's face.

That night when Ian went to bed, for the first time since Mickey was sent home, he didn't cry. He was happy; he slept peacefully.

Second Note To Readers-There it is, an Ian chapter. Let me know what you thought of it :) -Alayna