"Just start at the beginning. Tell me who he is? Or was. Something. Just…. Jesus Ian. Tell me something?" Vicki crossed her legs in front of him, and Ian sat up a little straighter in the bed.

He ran his hands vigorously over his face, trying to shake off the haze of sleep. Was this actually happening or was he – hopefully – still dreaming? He lowered his hands slowly and peered at Vicki.

She raised her eyebrows, "IAN!"

Ian backed up as far as he could against the headboard, and hugged his knees towards his chest defensively. His mouth felt dry, but he knew he couldn't stall any more. He licked his lips and started talking.

"I used to be gay."

Immediately he knew that had come out wrong, but he couldn't seem to say anything else right at that second.

Vicki was, predictably, incredulous, "What the hell do you mean you used to be gay? What…?"

"No, no. That's not what I meant. I mean… God this is so fucking hard." Ian squeezed his hands on either side of his neck, trying to find the right words.

"Well you know what, Ian? I don't care how hard it is. Right now, I think I need to know what the hell's going on with you, so just try to explain it. Please."

Vicki reached out and placed a hand on his knee. Ian stared at her small fingers for a few moments, then he looked at her, and started again.

"I don't mean I used to be gay. I mean… okay. It's a long story but to cut it short, when I was a teenager, I was never attracted to women. They just didn't appeal to me and I had no interest in them at all. In the 9th grade I was doing shifts before and after school at the local store in town, and I ended up sleeping with the owner."

"A guy?"

Ian cleared his throat, "Yeah. A guy. And then his wife caught us and-"

"He was married!? Jesus fucking Christ!" Vicki shook her head, her top lip curled up at the corner in disgust.

"Like I said, long story. She was blackmailing us so that she could have another baby."

Vicki could barely look at him. She closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them and asked, "So this store owner, this isn't Mickey right? Because Fiona said you were at school together. Or was she lying too?"

Ian shook his head, swallowing as he spoke again, "No, this isn't Mickey. Mickey is… was… the local thug. Well one of a family of them. He used to come into the store and steal from us."

Vicki huffed and muttered "us" under her breath.

Ian continued, because he knew he had to get this all out now or he never would, "Anyway, one day he stole the gun that we kept at the store. I went to get it back from him and… well one thing led to another… and…"

"You fucked him." It wasn't a question.

"No actually he…" Ian began, then lowered his head, realizing Vicki really didn't need to know the intimate details, "Yeah. That's when it started with Mickey."

"So why is this Mickey such a big deal? Why are you saying his name in your sleep? Why are you and Fiona talking about him?"

Ian drew in a deep breath, wondering how much to tell his wife. "We were together for, almost two years before he broke it off. Apart from when he was in juvie."

"Oh! He really was quite the little reprobate then?" Vicki laughed, but there was no humor in it.

"He broke it off with me, and went back to prison, and then Monica took me out to get over him and I ended up seeing Jim- another guy for a short while. Kind of like a rebound thing really. And that's it. That's all there is to tell. So I guess what I meant when I said I used to be gay, was, I erm…"

"You're gay?" Vicki ventured.

"But then I met you, so I'm obviously not, am I?"

"Ian. You don't just stop being gay. I mean, I'd like to hope you haven't been faking it with me all these years, so presumably you're not a six on that Kinsey scale thing either but that doesn't mean you're not still attracted to men, does it? I mean, you're telling me that since you were, what, 15 you've been with three men and only one woman? Or are there more that you're not telling me about? What about in the army?"

"No!" Ian said, vehemently. "There wasn't anyone in the army."

"Oh really?" Vicki asked, a snide edge creeping into her voice, "All those cute guys in uniforms? I'm not sure I'd have been able to resist."

"What… what are you doing?" Ian asked, suddenly unsure of what was happening.

"I suppose I'm trying to figure out whether I'm just a… I can't think of the word off the top of my head right now… one of those women gay guys keep around so that people don't realize they're playing for the other side."

"A beard?" Ian was shocked.

Vicki nodded, "Yeah, that's the one. A beard."

Ian jumped off the bed suddenly, knocking several things from the bedside table, "That's what you think you are? You really think I would do that to you? That I'd marry you just to hide my sexuality?"

Vicki stood up too, "I don't know, Ian. You seem to have lied to me about everything else. How can I believe anything you say?"

"Because I'm telling you the truth!"

Pulling herself up to her full height, which wasn't great compared to her husband's towering form, Vicki's voice was dangerously quiet as she spoke her next words.

"You must take me for a complete fool, Ian Gallagher. I've known you through some of the worst times of your life so far. I've seen your face when you've talked about losing your friends in the war. I know what heartbreak looks like on you. It's like a great big flashing sign that says 'I'm dying inside' and you're wearing it right now. And I know that it's not about me, and I can't figure out why, suddenly, now. And that's the worst part. You're not heartbroken about me."

Ian had had absolutely no response for Vicki. He couldn't admit to her that she was right. He was devastated that he was hurting her, and that she believed that he had been pretending to love her all this time, which was definitely not true – he knew that now – but he couldn't lie to himself that seeing Mickey again had dredged up all the old feelings of regret and loss and yes, she was right, heartbreak. But he couldn't face telling her that, and he was damned sure he wasn't going to lie to her again, so he'd just hung his head and turned away.

And now, somehow, here he was in this bar, the name of which he couldn't remember, knocking back tequila like it was some sort of magical medicine. He'd asked the bartender to just keep setting them up until he said stop, or until he passed out, whichever came first.

The sad thing was, the tequila wasn't really helping. It was dulling the ache a little, but as with most alcohol, it was also increasing his desire to do something really stupid. Unfortunately, except for paying Mickey a late night visit, which he actually really didn't want to do right at this moment, he couldn't think of anything stupid to do.

In the end, he settled for ringing Lip. He'd been wanting to do it for ages, and figured now was as good a time as any. He was enraged and fuelled up with Patrón.

Digging in his pocket for his cell phone with one hand, he threw back another shot with the other, for courage he told himself, and then scrolled through his contacts for his brother's number, which luckily he'd had the foresight to add. Although he may as well delete it after this, for all the use it was getting.

The phone rang eight times before the answer machine kicked in. It was a woman's voice, presumably Reese.

"Hi! We're not available right now, so please leave us a message and we'll get back to you."

Ian could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke. She sounded sweet, and he still couldn't believe he hadn't met her yet. He felt as if he were going to taint her somehow by leaving his angry, most likely slurring voice right after her lilting, happy one, but it had to be done.

"Lip it's me. Your brother in case you've forgotten. And yes I'm drunk, but you don't give a rat's ass, right? I'm really tired, Lip. These past few weeks have been complete fuckers. And at the end of everything I just wanted to talk to you about it, but you've been nowhere. No-fucking-where. So if you ever decide you might want to talk to me, I only want to know one thing. What could possibly have happened that made you choose Mickey fucking Milkovich over me, man? Just tell me that."

He heaved a huge sigh, and then added, "I miss you." before hanging up the phone.