I feel the need to say that La Dispute have basically, somehow, inspired these last four chapter so I figured I'd give them a little mention. And to anyone who's never heard of them, they're a rock/ kinda screamo band who have amazing lyrics, just so you don't think Mickey's listening to sappy, cute music.
There had been a few days that Mickey spent primarily in his room, only leaving for work, to get food from the kitchen or to buy more cigarettes. It wasn't because he was depressed - Mandy and Kiera had already decided that he was, despite him telling them about twenty fucking times that he wasn't - it was that he only really ever left his room before to hang out with Ian and he wasn't hanging out with him now that they weren't speaking. That was how he kept referring to the situation - they weren't speaking, or fucking for that matter - and had even had a full blown discussion with Lip about it because the guy was pretty sure that he and Ian had in fact broken up. Mickey did not agree. It felt sort of strange to have Lip hanging around even more than he did before now that he and Kiera were together. Mickey half expected him to punch him or something for upsetting his brother, but he didn't. All Lip had done was roll his eyes at him and tell him to "hurry the fuck up and make up with Ian" because he couldn't take his brooding and blasting out music at eight o'clock in the morning. That made Mickey smirk. Gallagher always was a little on the dramatic side. Mickey figured he got it from his mom.
Admittedly, Mickey missed Ian, he'd gladly tell anyone that asked that he didn't because he didn't give a shit about lying to other people, but thought it was dumb to lie to himself. It wasn't just the sex he missed - not that he didn't miss that a lot but Mickey was always horny as fuck, surprisingly, Ian actually beat him when it came to horniness. He missed Ian's face, he missed the feel of him beneath his hands, he missed the way his nose would scrunch up when he laughed sometimes and fuck did he miss his voice, especially when it dropped low when he was turned on. But it was normal to miss someone that you used to spend almost every day with when you hadn't seem them for a week, right? Mickey kept telling himself that. He kept telling himself that missing someone didn't make him a total fag.
Okay, so Mickey was a bit of a mess, but he wasn't depressed. And as he laid there on the couch watching the tv that he couldn't hear over the music he was listening to, he ignored the way Mandy and Kiera looked at him and his sister telling him to get back with Ian because he was pissing her off. What he didn't ignore was Kiera changing the song to one she liked to sing particularly loud in the morning when she had stolen his CD.
He huffed when she sat on his ass and rolled his eyes when she began reciting the opening of the song as it started.
"You still cross my mind from time to time, and I mostly smile. Still set on finding out where we went wrong and why. So I retrace our every step with an unsure pen, trying to figure out what my head thinks, but my head just ain't what it used to be. And then again, what's the point anyway?" She drummed her fingers against his back when the music properly kicked in and he wondered why she'd had stopped singing, though with La Dispute it was more like speaking to music. Then she started up again. "I remember when you leaned in quick to kiss me, and I swear, not a single force on Earth could stop the trembling of my hand." She stopped again and waited. "... and how we wasted all the best of us in alcohol and sweat."
He turned his head more to the side so he could look at her and once he saw the smirk on her face he knew exactly what she was doing. The bitch.
She stared at him. "I still remember how we held on so strong to this though we had never really settled on a way out." She stopped again and waited and Mickey wanted to slap that fucking smug grin off her face because she knew he knew that she was only singing the lyrics that related to he and Ian and it so wasn't even remotely funny. "I still remember how it all came back together, just to fall apart again." And when she started screaming out "I've been alone here, I've been alone here, I've been afraid, my dear, I've been afraid, my dear" he shoved her off of him and onto the floor so he could stand and he almost smirked at the way she carried on her screaming, but didn't.
He switched off the stereo and stared at her. "Anybody ever tell you you're not even a little funny?" he asked her, shaking his head slightly.
Standing up, Kiera smoothed out the creases of her patterned skirt, Mickey thought the patterns looked like retarded horses. "No, because the people I hang around with tend to tell the truth," she retorted, that same grin on her face as she turned the stereo back on and waited for whatever line she wanted to sing.
Mickey walked out into the kitchen and knew she was following him. He got a beer out of the fridge and opened the bottle with his teeth and spat the cap at her.
She just laughed and decided that the next line was relevant. "I held your name inside my heart but it got buried in my fear. It tore the wiring of my brain, I did my best to keep it clear. So dear, no matter how we part, I hold you sweetly in my head. And if I do not miss a part of you, a part of me is dead." She stopped and the two of them stared at each other as the song went on and then finished.
Quickly, Mickey took a swig of his beer then thumbed the moisture from the corner of his mouth. "Done?" he asked, hoping to fucking God she was because even though Kiera was actually a good singer, he was annoyed.
She pretended to ponder that thought before nodding. She scurried away to turn the music down and answer the door. Stupidly for a second, Mickey wondered if it was Ian before remembering. It was the older Gallagher brother that followed Kiera back into the kitchen, his hands gripping her hips and his mouth attached to her neck. If the two of them were in the same room, they'd constantly be touching like they simply couldn't get enough and Mickey swore that when they fucked they moaned and grunted and whined extra loud to get back at him for having done the same with Ian. It would've been funny if it weren't so messed up.
Lip looked up at him and smirked, holding Kiera against him. "Hey, so you're coming with us to the ice cream truck?"
Mickey frowned in confusion and said "no" at the same time as Kiera said "yes". She'd obviously told Lip that Mickey had already agreed or something and he scowled at her because she was being ten times more annoying than usual. She went on a bit of a rant when Mickey protested, saying he needed to get out of the house and be around people and have fun and blah-fucking-blah. He knew she'd keep on going until he agreed and that's how he ended up being the third fucking wheel as they walked to meet Kevin who was working the truck at some park.
Mickey was close to expressing his older brother protective streak when Lip lifted Kiera up and put her over his shoulder, his hand splayed across her ass. No, Kiera wasn't his sister and she was actually a couple of months older than him, but he still felt the need to beat the shit out of anyone who crossed her. Not that she'd need help in that department, but still.
Hunching his shoulders, Mickey dug his hands into his pockets awkwardly when they got there and nodded at Kev when he said hi. He didn't know what the fuck he was supposed to do there and he wasn't about to start selling shit. He followed Kiera and Lip inside and it was kind of cramped and uncomfortable and Mickey found himself daydreaming about his bed because it was his fucking day off work and he should have been nursing a hangover or watching shitty tv. Instead he sat in the passengers seat next to Lip who sat in the drivers seat checking on that thing he'd made to see if the cops were nearby or some shit. Mickey thought it was pretty cool.
He shook his head, turning down the joint Lip offered him and saw the questioning look he was being given. "Fuck off, just not in the mood," he said vaguely, shrugging his shoulders and looking out the window at the bunch of rowdy kids that had just rolled up.
"Christ, are you lovesick," Lip said, chuckling.
Sometimes, Mickey really loathed the fact that Lip was so comfortable with him being gay and that he'd been fucking his brother. It crossed his mind more than a few times that maybe it would actually be easier if Lip had a problem with it because then he wouldn't make his little jokes and comments. Mickey could handle hate a lot easier than acceptance. Came with being a Milkovich.
Mickey glowered then looked across at Lip. He swiped the joint from his fingers, figuring if he was going to be spending the day here, weed would actually make it slightly more bearable. It certainly wasn't Kiera's weed, Mickey could tell straight away because she got crazy strong stuff that had you high in seconds. Mickey took a couple more drags then handed it back to Lip who was smirking down at his lap. "What?" Mickey barked, watching him take a long drag then blow out smoke rings.
Lip shook his head and smiled. "I just never thought I'd be hoping Mickey Milkovich would go back to sticking it in my brother," he said simply, then took another drag, "or my brother going back to sticking it in Mickey Milkovich, I'm not too sure- Ow, shit!" Lip cried out when Mickey punched him in the balls. Lip's head fell against the steering wheel as a hand went down to protect his crotch. "That one of your kinks?" he groaned, because he just didn't know when to shut up.
"It fuckin' will be if you don't shut your damn mouth," Mickey grumbled, putting his feet up on the dashboard and crossing his arms.
Eventually, he began to relax. Only he wasn't relaxed enough to actively engage in any form of conversation with anyone. Mostly, he still wanted to go home because he'd probably be doing somthing very similar to what he was doing now, only difference being he'd be in the comfort of his own room. He also wouldn't have to deal with Kiera popping her head round the corner every five minutes asking if he was okay. That being said, she still did that at home but when it annoyed him too much he moved his drawers in front of the door so that she couldn't come in. He couldn't do that now. Instead he stuck his middle finger up at her every time. He didn't get why her and Mandy were acting like he'd said he was going to fucking off himself or something because he hadn't and why the fuck would he? Because he wasn't getting fucked on a regular basis by someone he actually kind of liked a little bit sort of? Mickey wasn't heartbroken, he wasn't lovesick or depressed he wasn't anything but pissed off with himself. More so than usual. But of course Mickey couldn't explain that because a) he didn't know the words that would make sense of how he felt and b) he'd risk sounding like an idiot who was pining after Ian.
An argument started up between Kiera and what Mickey assumed was probably some ten year old kid trying to convince her and Kev that they were fourteen - Kev had this thing about not selling beer or pot to anyone younger than that, Mickey thought it was dumb. He wasn't really paying attention to any of it but when he heard, and felt, someone kick the side of the truck he and Lip spun their heads around.
Kev gave Mickey an expectant look and so he got up and stood beside Kiera, looking down at the junkie who was demanding they give him some acid because apparently he knew they were selling it and wouldn't leave until they handed it over. As soon as the guy saw Mickey his face dropped and he scratched at his stubbly cheek. Mickey leaned down on the counter and almost retracted his head back as soon as he stuck it out because the stench wafting from the junkie was almost enough to turn Mickey's stomach. He didn't though, because that wouldn't have been threatening at all, instead he stared at the guy as he jittered about and told him to fuck off and go to his dealer. The junkie soon scampered away and Mickey went back to where he was sat, smirking to himself. That had been fun. He hadn't used the fact that he was a Milkovich to scare people off in a while. In fact, he hadn't done hardly anything particularly Milkovich since he'd gotten out of juvie: had only been in one drunken fight that had lasted no more than thirty seconds, had only stolen a handful of things because Ian had a fucking bitch fit when he stole an iPhone. He didn't know if he missed it or not but was pleased that people still feared him. Sometimes, it was all he thought he had.
The rest of the day went by pretty quickly and they moved the truck just once when Lip's contraption began to go off. Randomly, Kev handed him a cold beer as he sat down in the drivers seat and let Lip and Kiera serve people. Kev wiped the condensation on his black t-shirt and sighed, sounding content. "Thanks for dealing with that junkie earlier, fucking idiot, who in their right mind would sell acid from an ice cream truck?" Kev said, genuinely confused.
Mickey scoffed. "It's cool," he said then took a swig of beer.
Mickey found Kev really funny, which was a rarity, and pretty chilled, too. They spoke about the truck and buisness and Kev asked him about juvie then explained how he and Vee were going about adopting a baby. They continued their conversation as Kev drove the truck back to wherever the hell he kept it, Mickey wasn't paying any attention to where they drove too.
All four of them then headed back to Mickey and Kiera's because she had forgotten to bring the weed she had bought that they were going to sell for a higher price. And they were about to go up the stairs to the house when someone shouted "so this is the dump you're calling home now, huh?"
They all turned to see a guy probably a few years older than Mickey, stood there, his arms crossed over his bare, tanned chest and his white t-shirt tucked into the back pocket of his tight, denim jeans. His light brown hair was long and he had it tied up in a little ponytail like Kev's and he had a beer bottle in one hand, taking a couple of swigs from it. Mickey thought he looked like a skater or some shit, but he didn't recognise him and Lip's face said the same. He was about to ask Kiera if she knew him but then she moved. She pushed past Kev and walked straight up to the guy, so that her face was no more than a couple of inches away from his and the two of them stayed like that: standing, staring. And Mickey had no idea what the hell was going on but he knew he didn't like it. He didn't like the way the guy had spoken and he certainly didn't like the way he was sneering.
Kiera made like she was going to walk away but upon hearing the guy scoff she turned back around and head butted him, her face expressionless the entire time. The rest of them shouted out various curses in shock as the guy fell to the ground clutching his nose which was most probably broken. Kiera walked back to them and didn't look like she was even remotely in pain and smiled a little.
"The fuck? Kiera who was that?" Lip asked, looking at her with worried eyes.
She looked back at the guy who was still on the floor on his back, groaning in pain, then back at Lip, but she spoke to Mickey, he could tell. "That's the guy I put in hospital, Seth. Oh, we also have the same parents." There was no resemblance between the two of them. Not a sinlge similarity in how they looked and Mickey thought that the differences between the siblings probably ran a lot deeper than that. Kiera looked at Mickey hopefully and he knew why. When her face fell and she continued looking at him over Lip's shoulder as he hugged her, the message had been received.
From the moment the guy, Seth, had looked at Kiera with disdain, he'd wanted to do some damage and now that he'd heard who it was and he'd been given that look, Mickey charged over to Seth just as he was starting to get up and kicked him down again then rested his foot, not so gently, against his throat. Seth groaned, gasping and looked up at Mickey, his lower face red from the blood that had poured from his nose. Mickey could see it was broken. Smirking nastily, Mickey pushed his foot down and spoke. "You come near her again, and I won't hesitate for a second to kill you," he snarled, bent down so he was closer and his foot pressed even harder against him.
Vaguely, he heard someone, he thought maybe Lip, say something. It was probably to stop or to walk away. Mickey didn't care. He stared down for a couple of seconds, enjoying how terrified Seth looked beneath him, before taking his foot off of him and making the mistake of turning around.
"Mickey!" Kiera and Kev shouted at the same time.
Something smashed against his head and he stumbled forward a few steps, Kiera catching him in her arms as Kev and Lip ran forwards after Seth who had scurried away as soon as he'd hit Mickey.
"Did he just fuckin' bottle me?" Mickey asked, feeling blood trickle over his ear and neck.
Holding his biceps, Kiera's panicked eyes went back and forth between his bleeding head and his face. "Oh. Oh, God, are you okay? Mickey, are you okay?" She was squeezing his arms and breathing hard.
"Yes, Christ, just let me sit down," he said to all three of them as they fussed over him. He sat on the bottom step leading up to his house and clutched his head because getting bottled fucking hurt. His head was spinning and he took off his t-shirt to press against where he was bleeding.
Kiera knelt down in front of him. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. Come on, we'll take you to the hospital or-"
"Fuck off, go to a hospital. I haven't lost a damn arm," he complained, the pain intensifying.
Lip and Kev were behind her. "Come back to mine, Vee's there, she'll fix you you up," Lip said, looking concerned himself.
Reluctantly, Mickey stood, stumbling. His free arm was taken into Kiera's hands and he shrugged Lip's hand off his shoulder because he could fucking walk without assistance.
It should have only taken them a couple of minutes to get to the Gallagher's, but walking at a normal pace made Mickey feel like he was going to throw up, so he opted for slowly shuffling his feet. At last, they arrived and Mickey grumbled to himself because the younger Gallaghers got out of the pool and followed them in, asking Lip what had happened like they'd never seen someone bleeding before. Mickey found that highly unlikely.
A chair was pulled away from the kitchen table and he sat in it, frowning as Kiera shouted for Vee who came rushing in with Fiona, Jimmy and fucking Ian who looked ridiculous in his tight t-shirt and fucking tight jeans. Mickey kept his eyes firmly on the floor.
Vee barked orders at Lip about getting bandages or something like that. Then she pulled up a chair beside him and lifted his hand away from his head to examine the damage. Mickey knew it wasn't that bad; bottling looked worse than it was. It was all the blood. She winced a bit. "Somebody get me a cloth and some water," she said. His chin was taken in her hand and she looked deep into his eyes.
"The fuck are you doing?" he asked, frowning at her.
"Checking your damn pupils, keep still," she snapped, holding his chin even tighter as he tried to wriggle free.
Fiona sat down at the table opposite them. "What the hell happened?"
Kiera took a loud, deep breath and Mickey had never seen her like this; she'd totally lost her cool. "It was my, it was my brother, I-I head butted him and, and then Mickey went over and I don't know he just fucking bottled him and-and-" She was flustered; stammering and speaking with her hands. She'd never done that before.
"Kiera!" Mickey shouted, the loudness hurting his head.
She looked him then nodded and seemed to calm down when Lip came back in with medical supplies.
Vee began taking out bandages and wipes and Mickey was finding the whole situation real fucking dumb. If he had been out on his own or with Mandy he'd have just gone home, washed up and left it at that. Now he was playing the fucking patient. Vee wiped his head clean then began to rip the bandages from their packaging. "Seriously? Fuckin' bandage?" Mickey groaned, hoping someone would give him some Advil already.
Raising her eyebrows at him, Vee gave him an unimpressed look. "You wanna fuckin' bleed to death?"
The speed in which she spoke made Mickey smirk. "Yeah, I don't think that's fuckin' likely," he leaned back in the chair, "You even a real nurse?"
"Mickey," someone said sternly. He knew it was Ian before he looked towards the stairs where he was sat. For a long time, too long, they looked at each other, neither of them moving or thinking. They simply looked. They looked because it had been a week too long since they'd last laid eyes on each other. Grudgingly, he looked away and let Vee finish her Good Samaritan work but the second she left the room he pulled off the dumb as fuck bandage and ignored Kiera telling him to put it back on. He also ignored all the things Vee had told him, literally shutting off.
Ian lingered for a minute then stormed up the stairs and Mickey didn't know if he was glad about that but thought it was probably a good idea because he'd only end up saying something stupid that would piss the guy off or upset him. Mickey seemed to excel at that.
Three days later and Mickey still had a headache that painkillers didn't seem ease. If he were smarter or maybe a little less in denial, he'd have known that his head didn't hurt because he had been bottled. His head hurt because he spent every waking moment trying to keep his mind off of Ian. He concentrated so hard on everything he did just so that he didn't picture that redhead's face; he listened harder and worked harder because if he didn't he'd have lost and he'd have to accept the fact that this wasn't going to go away; that ache where he thought his heart should be wasn't going to vanish if he ignored it. But Mickey wasn't smarter and he was embedded in denial.