Mickey groaned and got up to get the door. It was one of Ian's sibblings, the fucking crazy one, Carl.
"Ian here?" Mickey nodded, Carl pushed past him.
"I need to talk to you." Ian hadn't moved from his place on the floor.
"What'd ya want?" Mickey didn't hear the next part of the conversation, he retreated to the kitchen; he wanted a beer.
When he re-entered the living room, Carl and Ian were sitting on the couch talking, it all seemed normal, but Mickey could see that Ian's body was rigid, he could see that Ian was literally and figurativley on the edge.
"Fuck's wrong with you?" Mick gulped down half the bottle.
"It's Debs." Fuck, out of all the Gallagher's, other than Ian, Debbie was Mickey's favorite; he had never really even talked to her or anything, but she seemed the most normal, the most sane.
"What about her?" Mick sat next to Ian.
"Last night after Ian left, we found out Monica killed herself." That fucking cunt, found another way to abandon her kids.
"And that has to do with Debbie how?"
"Monica was bipolar, and Fi and Lip have suspected for a while that Debs is too, and last night after she found out about Monica, she freaked out. She won't get outta bed, just like Monica used to do. She won't talk, she won't eat, she won't do anything. They think she's gonna do something stupid." Mickey understood that, but he didn't understand what the fuck Monica being bipolar had to do with anything.
"What the fuck does it matter that Monica was bipolar?"
"Fucking means that Debbie is too. Lip said she's manic depressive, whatever the fuck that means." Carl was nearly yelling.
Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck.
Mickey knew what manic depressive was, fuck, his mom was manic depressive.
Fuck.
"That ain't good."
"No shit dumb fuck."
"Hey, Carl knock it off. It's not Mick's fault, don't fucking yell at him."
Carl looked like he wanted to punch something, or someone; he didn't though, he just got up and left.
"I'm scared Mick. What if she does what Monica did? I can't fucking handle that shit again. Not alone." Mickey put his hand ontop of Ian's; it was fucking gay, but he felt that he needed to touch Ian, he had to touch Ian.
"You ain't go through anything alone. And Debbie won't do that."
"How the fuck do you know that? How?" Ian was getting a a bit hysterical.
"Calm down Firecrotch. She's gonna be fine." Mickey hated telling Ian that Debbie was gonna be okay, because he didn't really know that she was going to be okay. He hated lying to Ian, but it was necessary.
Nothing happened, nothing at all. Everything was normal.
After a week, Debbie was back to normal, as normal as she could be.
After a month, it was like nothing had ever happened.
There wasn't a funeral for Monica, she was cremated, no one went to get her ashes, Frank wanted to but he got too drunk so he never did.
After two months, no one even thought about Monica. Especially not Ian.
Ian busied himself with getting new furniture for the apartment and painting the walls so they didn't look so fucking nasty.
Mickey on the other hand couldn't give a shit less about the apartment, he constantly was thinking about Ian, he didn't have time to think about furniture or paint or any stupid shit like that.
Mickey was focused on something else, something that was entirely for Ian. Something that Mickey really didn't fucking believe in, something that Mickey thought was fucking pointless despite the fact that he wanted to do it, but only with Ian.
It was a fucking stupid concept, it didn't mean shit, except it did, at least it did when Ian was involved.
So despite the fact that Mickey thought it was the stupidest thing ever, he went into that fucking store and paid a shit ton of money for something that was, in Mickey's mind-worthless.
When he walked into the apartment, Ian was sitting on the couch eating some fucking chips looking at paint swatches.
"Aye, Gallagher, I gotta talk to you." Ian put the swatches down and looked up at Mickey.
"I ain't gonna be doing any stupid sappy shit. So here." He handed Ian a small grey box.
Ian's eyes widened a bit as he opened the box. A simple little silver band was inside.
"What is this?" Mickey wanted to roll his eyes, he wanted to tell Ian he was a dumb ass; he didn't.
"You know what it is." Ian's mouth fell open, he didn't speak.
"Are you serious?"
"C'mon Gallagher, that's a stupid question. If I wasn't serious you wouldn't be holding it."
"Do you have one too?" Mickey showed Ian his left hand.
"That answer your question?" Ian smiled, he still seemed to be in shock.
Mickey sat next to Ian, he wasn't gonna do any gay shit and put the fucking ring on him or anything, he just kissed Ian.
Mickey was glad that Ian was happy, fuck he was happy but in the back of his mind he knew how fucking stupid the entire situation was.
He knew that marriage was shit, it was nothing; but maybe with Ian it could be more.
Note to readers- Alright I'm ending there, it's pretty short I know, but I'm hoping to get the next chapter up pretty quick, like sometime tonight, but it might not happen. Let me know what you thought. -Alayna
