Ian wished he understood it, but he really didn't.
He'd gone away and had expected everything to be just like it always was. But then he'd come back and nothing had been the same at all. Nobody had even forewarned him or anything. Not once. They'd just left him to discover on his own and he couldn't have possibly discovered in a worse way.
Admittedly, he had been convinced that he'd spotted Mickey Milkovich out of the corner of his eye once when going to get some beer, but he'd shaken that off as him being stupid and as him seeing things. Because Mickey had cleared out of Chicago a long time ago. Well, okay, maybe six years wasn't such a long time, but it felt longer when Ian hadn't even seen Mickey since he'd run off to kill Frank. He'd been too scared of rejection to visit him in Juvie and he'd thought it was probably for the best afterwards to just force all thoughts of the ex-con from his mind. Right?
So why was it that ever since he'd caught that glimpse, he'd had to force himself to stop thinking about Mickey? And even worse, why was it that he felt almost happy when he saw Mickey in the Alibi Room? Because he shouldn't have done. He should have hated seeing Mickey there. He should have hated that Mickey still walked on the earth after everything that had been said. But he didn't.
It seemed like it had always been Ian's fate to see something good in people where there probably was none at all.
He'd been talking to Kev about his latest stint in the army, about when he had to go back – which was in four months' time – and he hadn't even looked at the guy who sat down next to him, he'd been too preoccupied with trying to keep cool. But then he'd spoken and there had been Mickey, acting so casually it was like he didn't even know Ian at all.
And that hurt, that had really hurt, but Ian had just been too shocked to say anything. Plus, there was a limited amount he could say in public anyway. The brief conversation that the ex-con had with Kev put more questions in Ian's mind than he thought was possible. Like, why was he at the hospital? Did the fact he was getting paid for something mean he had a job? Was he working for drug dealers again breaking legs? If so, did that mean he was sticking around in Chicago again? Who was T? Did Mickey even remember him or was he purposefully ignoring him?
He was so engrossed in the questions in his head and in not looking at Mickey that he didn't notice someone else walk up and join them. Not until that person addressed him, asking him for a light. She was pretty girl, around fifteen or sixteen if he had to guess. Her hair was about shoulder length and was a natural shade of blonde-brown. Her eyes were a strange shade of blue, making her look almost eerie. But it was the pain in the depths of them that almost had him flinching. She was dressed sort of like Mandy had used to dress when they were younger, in clothes that consisted of far too little material.
Mickey snatched the cigarette she was holding out of her fingers and lit it himself, not looking at Ian. That was the thing that caused him to catch on to the fact that this girl was there to see Mickey. It hadn't occurred to him that Mickey would be waiting for anybody. He'd been a little busy letting his thoughts run away with themselves. "You're not having a fucking beer," Mickey said to the girl in a weirdly authorative and sort of parental way. It was weird. "She'll have a coke," he told Kev and the girl just blew smoke into Mickey's face in response.
He was stunned when Mickey gave up his seat for her, without even needing to be asked to and he wondered then if Mickey had changed. Except the way that Mickey had been before the girl had turned up hadn't really been any different to how he'd always been. And Mickey was still just as rude and dirty. It was confusing.
When Mickey was knocked back against him, it felt like a shock of electricity crackled through his entire body. He didn't know how else to explain it. All he knew was that for some fucked up reason, he was disappointed when Mickey jerked away quickly. Like Ian had branded him or something.
The conversation between Mickey and the girl was confusing. It was mostly banter, but when they talked of hospitals, Ian could have cut the tension in the air with a knife and he thought it was stupid how a small part of him – a part that should have long since died – hoped Mickey hadn't been to the hospital for anything serious. Because Ian was still stupid enough to worry about someone who didn't give a damn, obviously.
Then again, what was even more ridiculous was the fact that he'd actually found himself jealous of the girl and the soft tone she'd managed to pull out of Mickey when he'd spoken to her. He'd never heard Mickey talk to anyone like that and it made him feel sick. He couldn't even think up words for why the hell that was logical.
When someone bumped against Mickey when the girl went to the toilet, the ex-con whipped around and Ian saw him face to face for the first time. Mickey finally had to look at him and Ian had no problem then doing the same. The first thing that struck him was that Mickey looked like he'd aged. He looked stressed out and tired, on edge. There were dark smudges under his eyes that stood out strong against his pale skin. He was sweaty and a little dirty, stubble on his jaw and his hair sticking up in a complete mess all over his head. Mickey had never been anything pretty to look at, but he'd never been undesirable. His skin was sheened with sweat and his breath rasped a little when he breathed in, a tell-tale sign of too many cigarettes.
He stared back at Ian and his blue eyes were guarded against the world, which wasn't anything new, but Ian thought maybe now it was to a new extreme. Mickey was still handsome in a rugged sort of way and he'd only really improved with age even though he did look like he needed to drink less and sleep more. Mickey looked like life had been hard on him and Ian thought it was weird for him to think that since he'd been the one to go to a fucking war zone.
But still. Mickey looked like he'd been through hell.
He saw a muscle in Mickey's jaw twitch and could see a decision being made behind Mickey's blue eyes, even though the ex-con obviously didn't want anybody to be able to spot that. For a moment, he thought he caught a glimpse of the same pain and fear that had been in the girl's eyes, but he couldn't be sure.
"Didn't get your ass shot off then."
It took a minute for him to even realise that Mickey had spoken to him, because he hadn't expected him to. He'd thought Mickey would just leave with nothing more than a glare hanging between them. So words surprised him.
He didn't have time to even think how to formulate a reply before Mickey was standing up and leaving, the girl by his side. Ian watched Mickey's retreating figure until the door to the Alibi Room swung shut behind him.
"Didn't get your ass shot off then."
So Mickey hadn't forgotten about him. For a moment he wondered if that comment meant Mickey had been thinking about him, about whether or not he'd died out there at war. But that was definitely classed as Ian getting his hopes up, so he stamped them down as quick as he could.
"So Mickey's back then?" he asked, hoping the words didn't sound as dumb and needy to Kev as they did to himself.
Kev didn't seem to think the conversation was a strange one at all, so that was something at least.
"Yeah, him and Tegan arrived not that long ago," he said, handing Ian another beer. Ian was assuming the girl had been Tegan. "Can't quite work out if it was to see Mandy that he turned up here or just because it was convenient what with Tegan's mum being in the hospital and all."
Ian wondered if that explained the pain in the girl's eyes. He wondered if it could explain the glimpse he'd seen in Mickey's. He wasn't sure, but then he also didn't know how the hell Mickey had wound up being associated with people who weren't drug dealers.
"So he's staying with Mandy then?" Ian asked, not liking the idea of Mickey mooching off of his sister or something like that. He didn't think Mickey would do that to her, but then Mandy had been missing Mickey for years now. Everyone knew that. Ian thought Terry finally dying could have had something to do with Mickey's reappearance.
Kev shook his head. "Nah, him and that girl you just saw have their own place," he said, running a hand through his longish hair and looking tired, "And before you get any creepy ideas, Tegan's dating your brother, I think Mickey's more like a big brother or a Dad to her or something."
And that hadn't really been what Ian had been thinking at all, but he had wondered.
"Who Carl?" he asked, because that would explain the mentions earlier. He hadn't really thought much on that, he'd been too preoccupied in having Mickey close enough to him that he could feel the other man's body heat rolling off of him. Something that should have been uncomfortable given the weather.
Kev nodded, "According to Lip, he really likes her."
Which meant it was even more important that Mickey was actually sticking around, because that didn't happen to Carl very often. And even fewer times did a girl actually like his brother back. Carl was an odd one though, so it was sort of understandable.
After that he felt like he was seeing Mickey everywhere.
He'd see him in the street, often with that girl Tegan, sometimes without. He saw him on the El and under it. He saw him standing around outside the high school and when he drank in the Alibi Room. He passed him once leaving Mandy's as he arrived. That time he stood for while on the other side of the road, partially hidden by a car and watched as the girl Tegan blew a lungful of smoke into his face and he picked her up and jumped off the porch steps with her. He'd never heard Mickey laugh quite like that before, hadn't seen him that carefree and he hated that it made him jealous.
He didn't think Mickey spotted him most of the time that Ian saw the ex-con, which he counted as a good thing because then it meant Ian wasn't pussying out by not saying anything. He would, if he knew what the hell he wanted to say. Except he didn't. He didn't have a clue. And Ian had always been the one to do the talking.
When he finally did get to speak to Mickey though, given what happened, he really wished he hadn't had the opportunity at all. Because what happened made him wonder just what the hell Mickey had gotten himself into this time and then he just hated himself even more for caring.