I apologise in advance for how short this is and if it's awful; I had serious writer's block.
It was two days later when Mickey was lounging about watching tv, but more like staring blankly at the screen, when he was told that he had a visitor. His mind started racing: at first he thought perhaps it was Gallagher there to tell him that he was a total dick, then he thought it might be his dad or one of his brothers there to tell him that they had found out he was a fag and he was now a dead man walking. Either way he wasn't exactly sprinting to the visitors' room.
The one person he didn't expect to see was Mandy, especially since her excuse last time for not visiting him was because of how "the dyke guards grope you like horny teenagers", but there she was arms crossed tightly pushing up her tits so that they almost spilled over her tight grey t-shirt.
Mickey rolled his eyes at the sight of her then sat down and picked up the phone. "Hey fucktwat," he said casually, smirking as she frowned slightly.
"Assface," she retorted, "you get gang-banged in the showers yet?"
Mickey snorted. "Bitch, I could ask you the same question."
She laughed sarcastically whilst giving him the finger.
He rubbed the side of his bottom lip with his thumb. "The fuck are you doing here, anyway?" he asked because even though Mandy was the kindest - if kind was even the right word - of the Milkovich children and her and Mickey had always been somewhat close, that still didn't explain why she was there.
She shrugged and relaxed back in her chair. "Had some time before I'm seeing my friends, thought I'd see how you were holdin' up," she looked down at her lap for a moment, "you doin' okay?" she leaned forward a little her blue eyes staring into his. The movement revealed her tits even more.
Mickey grimaced. "Jesus Christ, why do you even bother wearing shirts?" he asked sarcastically. He had long given up trying to persuade her to wear more clothes but it didn't mean he wanted an eyeful of his own sister's chest. Or any other girls' for that matter. "And I been crying myself to sleep every night, the fuck do you think? I'm fine."
She rolled her eyes and huffed dramatically. "Such an asshole," she muttered quietly to herself, obviously forgetting about the phone in her hand.
Mickey snorted again. "You do know I can hear you, right?" Her eyes widened slightly. "Fucking dumbass," he laughed out.
She giggled a little and smiled at him. "So has Ian visited?"
Internally, Mickey was freaking the fuck out. Why the hell was she asking that? Fuck, he thought, she fucking knows. He kept his face expressionless, trying not give anything away - he didn't know what was left to give away if she knew, but still.
"No, why would he?" there was a slight edge to his voice and he hoped Mandy didn't notice.
Casually, she fiddled with a bit of her hair. "Well he's like your friend, right?" she didn't look at him as she spoke, too busy checking out the guy who had just sat down beside her.
"Not really, we just work together." Drop the fucking subject.
Mandy looked back at him. "Oh okay, whatever. Well, I gotta go," she zipped up her black leather jacket, "I'll come by next week or something, 'kay?"
"Whatever, see ya," Mickey grumbled, biting his thumb nail.
She gave him a wicked smile. "Try not to drop the soap."
Before he could tell her to fuck off she put the phone down, laughing at his annoyance.
That night he slept better than he thought he'd ever done in the past, if you don't count the times he'd slept beside Gallagher, and Mickey certainly didn't. He didn't understand why seeing his sister had affected him so much but he was certainly thankful for her short, random visit, though he'd never tell her that, of course. There were a lot of things he'd never tell her.