All For the Damn Ice Cream

Warning: So much swearing, but it's Mickey so are you surprised?

"Be home soon," Mickey texted, "Got your stupid ice cream."

His phone pinged a moment later with a message from Ian.

"Love you too, see you soon."

Mickey rolled his eyes with a fond smile and pocketed his phone. He complained, but he had also gone to three different stores to get the flavor Ian liked.

He was almost back at the Gallagher house when several hands suddenly grabbed him from behind. Mickey swung out, acting on instinct as he tried to fight back, but there were too many,

Mickey quickly found himself on the ground, six men surrounding him and raining punches and kicks down on him. He did his damndest to fight back, but even he would admit the odds weren't great. Eventually, Mickey resorted to self-preservation and curled up as tight as he could, covering his head with his hands.

After what felt like an eternity, the beating finally stopped. God damn everything hurt.

One of the men grabbed the back of Mickey's shirt and pulled him close. Mickey's body screamed in protest.

"Terry says hello f*t," the man breathed in his ear, dropping Mickey back to the ground.

Mickey coughed harshly, feeling his ribs shift and his throat burn.

"Fucking assholes," he said, attempting to push himself off the ground. The pain that exploded in his left wrist and knee halted him from getting very fat and he slumped back down.

"Come on, don't be a pussy," he said to himself, "Get the fuck up."

He tried again to stand, but the movement caused so much pain he fell back to the ground with a grunt. Mickey groaned in pain and irritation. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, desperately hoping it hadn't been smashed in the fight. He held it up to his face and saw that it was banged up, but useable. He clicked his top contact.

"Ian," he groaned, "Need some help here."

He did his best to describe where he was before he hung up. It wasn't long before he heard footsteps running towards him and Ian dropped down in front of him, quickly followed by Lip, Kev, and V.

"Shit," Ian muttered, his hands fluttering uselessly over Mickey's body without actually touching him.

"Hello to you too," Mickey grunted, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his chest, "Fuckin' assholes jumped me. Busted my knee, gonna need some help walking."

"Mick, forget walking, you need a hospital," Ian said incredulously."

"Fuck hospitals man," Mickey said, wincing, "Just get me back to your place."

"Easy Mickey," V said, "I can only see a bit of the damage those assholes did, but I can already tell this is beyond my expertise. You need the hospital."

"Can't fuckin' afford the hospital," Mickey said, ignoring the four voices of protest around him as he attempted to push up again. He could feel his ribs grinding with each movement until the pain became so unbearable Mickey almost couldn't catch his breath. It took him a moment to realize he really couldn't catch his breath at all.

"Ian-" he gasped, dropping back on his side and blinding reaching a hand out, "I- I can't-"

"Shit, Kev, call an ambulance!" V said.

"What's happening?" Ian asked, watching as Veronic ripped open Mickey's shirt, revealing the mottling of bruises on his chest.

"One of his ribs might've punctured a lung," V explained, laying her hand gently on Mickey's chest to try and feel the damage.

"Ian-"

Mickey could see Ian's mouth moving but couldn't hear anything he was saying. His vision was getting darker around the edges until everything faded out completely.

What the fuck was that beeping? Holy fuck it was annoying. Ian what the fucking fuck did you do to the alarm clock?

Mickey blinked slowly, determined to toss the clock across the room to get that noise to stop. He was confused to find himself in a room with white walls and that was definitely way too clean to be the Gallagher house.

Mickey attempted to scramble upright as the realization he didn't know where the fuck he was sunk in, but the pain radiating through his body halted his movements. The pain, and two freakishly large hands on his shoulder.

"Easy, Mick, easy," Ian said, "You're okay."

"Where am I?" he groaned, "And what the hell is that beeping?"

"You're in the hospital," Ian explained, "You got jumped, remember?"

Mickey thought hard, remembering the six men that surrounded him.

"Fuckin' Terry," he muttered, remembering the one attacker's words.

"Terry was there?" Ian said in alarm.

"Nah, but he sent 'em," Mickey replied, wincing as he shifted in the hospital bed. "Wha's wrong with me? Why couldn't V patch me up at the house?"

"Five broken ribs, three more fractured; broken nose; skull fracture; broken wrist; punctured lung; lacerated kidney; and your knee was shattered," Ian listed off, "V can do a lot of things, but even she couldn't fix all that in my kitchen."

"Fuck me," Mickey sighed as he took in all that Ian had just said.

"Sorry, but I don't think the doctors would like that very much," Ian smirked as Mickey threw him a look.

"Hey," Ian leaned forward, suddenly sounding serious as he took both of Mickey's hands in his. "You scared the shit out of me. I know you hate hospital and I can already tell you're thinking of saying 'fuck it' and leaving AMA. But those guys did a real number on you, you could have died. So please stay here for a bit and do what the doctors say? For me?"

Mickey groaned.

"Fine," he muttered, "But you owe me."

"Actually, I think you owe me," Ian said, "You never did get my ice cream."

"Aw fuck you Gallagher, I went to three different stores for your fucking ice cream!"

First Shameless Fic! I've had this written for ages and only just got around to typing and posting it

Thanks so much for reading!