Chapter Text
Ian has never felt so alone in his entire life. Not, when he found out that his mother left him and his siblings for the first time. Not, when he noticed that he's gay. Not, when he realized that he's in love with a Milkovich boy and might never get something back in return. Not, when Mickey refused to kiss him. Not, when his love married a woman and he decided to leave for the army. Not, when he found out about his Bipolar –even though that was a huge fucking thing to discover and deal with. And not, when he broke up with Mickey, because at that time, he just felt nothing at all.
But ever since he left Mickey at the boarder, the frightening and heavy feeling of loneliness combined with just being numb is a constant burden on his shoulders, and it's getting heavier with each and every day.
On the outside however, Ian could somehow handle it. He could get some distractions that helped him deal with his loss. But here, in prison, there‘s no way to escape the cruelty of his own thoughts. Here he has to face it, has to realize that he committed the biggest mistake of his life a year ago at the Mexican boarder.
He left Mickey. Or more precisely, let him go. Thinking he had his life under control, as a man dealing with bipolar disorder. Thinking he would be able to lead a stable and good life on a daily routine, without him. God, how wrong he was!
He wanted to be better than Monica. Wanted to prove to everyone in his family that even if he suffers from the same illness, he won't ever be like their mum. He won't just run away and leave everyone worried about him. He will look after his family, will have a good and solid job, that helps them paying their rent. He will build a healthy relationship, not the ones that Monica used to have. He will take his medication. He will do better.
That was his plan. And for everyone else, he truly made it better. They were proud of him, told him how good he mastered his life. And he was proud of himself too. Until the day Mickey escaped from prison and destroyed all his illusions about the man he thought to be.
Ian might truly be an EMT in his heart, but that was probably the only true thing in his life until then. He definitely wasn't the Ian who was happy in a relationship with a trans guy. For fuck’s sake, he loves cock. Mickey's cock to be exact. He was also not the Ian he thought his family so desperately needs and without whom they can't live. Because where are they now that he's in jail and serving his sentence for blowing up a car? They hardly come to visit him. They just don't give a shit about him.
But Ian still clinged onto the string of hope, that he'll make it better. He won't be Monica. He won't run away with a fugitive, although his heart ached so much, when he saw him crossing the boarder. Ian really thought, he made the right decision. Thought that his heart only needs some time to catch up with his mind. But it never did. No matter how hard he tried.
Ian just felt numb from the moment Mickey drove away. He got back home and tried to continue with his life, tried to pick up where he left. But it was destroyed. Every emotion was gone. Numbness was all he could feel. He panicked, thinking that this might be the start of becoming Monica and wanting so desperately to be different.
Though her death really shocked him and saddened him, the fear of being the one who takes an overdose due to his disorder and dies, was bigger and spurred him on to do better than her. He despairingly sought a way out of this deafness, trying to rebuild his relationship with the good-guy Trevor. Because that's what normal people do, right?
He tried to become a good person, tried to help hopeless children in the shelter. Tried to be an ideal for desperate gay teenagers. Tried to give them the support and the ground they don't receive at home.
And suddenly he felt something again. Something. Something worth living for, even though it was still a dull life. But the distraction was good enough to keep his mind wandering 24/7 to the Mexican border.
But here in prison, it all comes down to it.
Here, he can see it all clearly now. The only person who truly loved him, and the only person he'll ever be able to love is Mickey. But he fucked up! God, he fucked up so badly! Everything is gone now. His love, his job, his friends, his fake built reality about a family he thought he had.
Ian knows, that his family doesn't have the money to bail him out of jail, though they could at least try. But they don't give a shit about him at all. He somehow has the feeling that they are relieved he is behind bars now. Imprisoned in a strict, recurring routine that forces him to take his meds and talk to his psychiatrist twice in a week. So they have one Gallagher less to worry about. Ian's now the problem of the state.
And so he finds himself huddled on the hard, small mattress of his prison cell, sobbing over the course his life took, as he so often does. If only he had...
"Gallagher!" a guard calls for him, as he makes his way over the long corridor to his cell, "time for you to leave. Someone bailed you out."
Ian sits up, perplexed by the guard's words. Did he undermine how much his family cares? Has he misread his family after all? Did they somehow, manage to get the money and help him out of here? But they couldn't have gotten the amount together in only eight days. (At least not legally) Eight days that to him seem like years. Eight days in which the loneliness overshadowed him. But maybe he‘s not as lonely as he thought.
"Who paid my bail?" he asks, when the fat guard unlocks his cell.
The man just shrugs nonchalantly. "A woman. Can't remember a name. Probably because I don't give a shit." He tosses Ian the clothes he wore the day he got arrested. "Here, put these on and come with me. You have to sign your release papers and then get the fuck out of here."
Southsiders. Friendly as always.
He nods his understanding and steps out of the orange suit, that reminded him too much of the man he lost. Ian was here for only eight days and felt more lonely than ever before. How Mickey must‘ve felt, knowing that he has to serve eight years. And Ian just let him down, left him alone with all his worries and fears. The redhead shakes his head, to dispel the thoughts from his mind, trying to figure out how Fiona got the money instead.
He walks with the guard to the exit of the building, signs the papers, before the steel door beeps loudly three times and rolls up to present the stinging bright sunlight behind the bars. He can't see a thing as he steps outside. Eight days, and his eyes burn as if they‘re witnessing the sun for the first time. Slowly he walks down the stairs, his eyes getting more and more accustomed to the warm light. "Hey douchebag," an all-too-familiar voice calls him before his heart stays still for a moment and he stops dead in his tracks.
He raises his hand to his temple, creating the needed shadow with his palm, as his narrowed eyes move to the right. "Mandy?"
"As I live and breathe. Come here!"
He makes his way to the petite figure and embraces her without hesitation, his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck and inhaling the typical Milkovich scent. God, how he has missed this. Missed her. Still misses him.
“Wha-“ he starts to ask, when he loosens his grip after a long and intense moment, but is cut off by the blonde girl instead.
“Get in.“ She points to the car on her side. A red Porsche 911 Carrera Cabrio.
Ian stares at it perplexed, but still decides to open it and get onto the passenger‘s seat. “Still on the Escort thing, I see?!“
Mandy puts on her expensive Gucci sunglasses, as she hops in too and inserts the keys. “Nah, settled down.“ She starts driving off to god knows where, but Ian could care less. She's here. She bailed him out. She came to pick him up. “Found someone through the Escort thing. He's rich, smart, good looking and not that old.“
Ian keeps staring at her from the side. He's afraid that if he looks away, she might disappear and he awakes from the best dream he‘s had since so long in his lonesome bed in prison. “Which means?“
“48.“
“48 is not an old age.“ he comments, smiling when his words make her chuckle.
“Well, coming from you, I'm relieved. You're an expert when it comes to bursting geriatric viagroid‘s balls.“ she gazes at him smilingly, and Ian's heart skips a beat. Her words remind him so much of Mickey, his whole chest aches.
“The big love then?“ he asks, while Mandy drives through the streets of the Southside he knows so well. He just hopes she doesn't take him 'home'.
The pretty blonde girls scoffs. “Not like the Romeo and Juliet love you and Mickey used to have, but I really like him. And he cares about me. That's more than I ever thought I could get.“
Ian feels a painful sting in his heart at the words used to have. It's his fault she‘s using the past tense. “So this good guy gave you the money to bail me out? How did you even know?“ the redhead tries to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
Mandy rolls her eyes with a cheeky grin on her lips. “Gay Jesus was all over the media, Ian. You are known beyond all boarders now."
Beyond all boarders? Could it be that Mickey also saw him on the TV or the internet? God, he told him he had his shit together and now this.
"And no, he didn't give me the money to bail you out. You paid for yourself." she adds, staring out of the windshield.
Ian's brow creases in confusion. "What? I... I didn‘t pay a thing." He doesn't understand what Mandy is talking about. If her man didn't give her the money, how the hell did she get it then?
Mandy stops at a traffic light and turns to him, the look on her face suddenly a more serious one. She inhales heavily before she begins to speak. "Mickey told me, that you gave him a lot of money at the boarder. Money you earned and saved, only to hand it to him then, allowing him a new start and a new life." A new life. A life without Ian. The redhead fights a heavy lump in his throat. He bites hard on his lips, to keep himself from tearing up. "You gave him the money so he could be free. Now it’s his turn to do the same."
A hundred thousand questions and thoughts run through Ian's mind, but his lips only manage to form one single word "Mickey?"
Mandy looks back at the road and hits the accelerator pedal again as the traffic light turns green. "Mickey." she nods.
The redhead feels dizzy and is having trouble breathing stadily. On the already hot summer day, it gets even hotter for Ian and while his eyes are desperately searching for something to focus on, he tries to innerly calm himself down. He has to think straight, needs to know more. Mandy is his connection to Mickey. He just needs to breathe. "Is he here?"
Ian still has no idea where Mandy is going to take him, but he doesn't even care. He doesn't even take a look at the street, just focusing on her face, hoping to find information about her brother there. "Where do you think he is, Ian?!" she shrugs, her tone not cold, but also not the friendliest one.
Mickey is still in Mexico. Where he built his new life without Ian. And Ian has no right to blame him. Damn, he himself pushed Mickey to do it. He pushed him away. He knows he has no right to be sad about the fact that Mickey is making the best out of his situation. He has no right to hope that Mickey still misses him every now and then, still thinks about him. Not after all that Ian has done.
A tear makes it‘s way down Ian's cheek, as a heavy silence spreads in the car. The boy swallows hard before asking the next question which he knows that no matter what the answer will be, is going to hurt him. "Is he alright?"
Mandy exhales heavily. "Yes, he is." she explains succinctly, without a shade of emotion in her tone. Ian doesn't know if she's mad at him too, for hurting her brother the way he did. He couldn't blame her as well.
His heart starts fluttering for a moment, happy that Mickey is alright. But then it drops like a stone, sad that Mickey apparently mastered to live quite well without him. Same can't be said about the redhead. Ian knows by now that he will never be able to master his life without the other man. Let alone, the fact that he doesn't even want to.
"I miss him," he suddenly hears himself whispering, "so much." He squeezes his eyes shut, only to let another tear slip through his lashes. "It was the biggest mistake I've ever made to let him go. Believe me when I say, that it was the hardest decision of my life." Ian pauses briefly, reviewing the last days he was permitted to be with Mickey. A cynical laugh escapes his lips. "You know... I told him that that wasn't me anymore, because I had my shit together and a fucking boyfriend, and now look at me. No job, no boyfriend, no family that gives a shit. I let the only person I've ever loved go, just to prove to myself that I'm not Monica. Isn't this ironic?" Anger, sadness, disappointment and guilt crush over him and he has a hard time stopping himself from crying and sobbing like a baby.
Mandy's eyes wander to him quickly. "Well, it is. A little bit." She confirms his biggest fear that he made a fool out of himself. Who was he to believe he could live a good and stable life without Mickey?
Mandy chuckles. "But now, that you‘ve sabotaged yourself and proven that all the reasons you gave Mickey were just shit, what‘s keeping you here then? Just because we were born Southside doesn't mean we're gonna end up here, right?!"
The young boy stares at her, stunned. Does this mean if he were to go to Mexico Mickey would give him one last chance? The chance he so desperately wants and would never let go of again?
Ian nods. She's right. There's nothing that‘s keeping him here. Not anymore.
Only now he understands his behaviour from the whole of last year better. Inwardly, he knew it from the start but forced himself to learn it the hard way. He manipulated his life to prove that he belonged to Mickey. That everything in Chicago is just a show and doesn't make him happy in any way. That he lives here a life without content.
He felt so dead inside, and needed to feel himself again. Needed to feel Mickey. So he went through all the extremes and realized how worthless everything is, and how numb he still is. A numbness that didn't go away, no matter how crazy his actions became.
It just showed him that he doesn't belong here. He belongs with him. He always has, he always will. He has to be with him. "Drive me to Mexico.“
Mandy huffs a laugh. "What? No!"
Ian is sitting up straight, his legs and arms starting to shake because of the excitement. He doesn't want to waste a single second anymore. He has to go to him. Now. "Mandy, drive me to Mexico! Or to an airport, a train station, shit, anywhere that can lead me to Mickey."
He looks at her desperately, but she continues to drive quietly along the road. Ian peers nervously from right to left, trying to orient himself to find the quickest way out for himself. Only now does he notice the street, where he used to stray along so often. The moment he recognizes where they are, his heart skips a few beats.
"I‘ll drive you here, Ian" she says, as she turns the car to the right, parking across the big field.
What the fuck is she doing? Is this a cruel joke? Does she want to punish him for all that he did? "What are we doing here, Mandy? Keep driving. Take me to an airport or a -"
"No." she cuts him off, staring with her big blue eyes into his own glassy green.
"I don't wanna be here. Not without him. I can't, Mandy." he tells her, silently pleading for her to hit the road again. He can't even look outside the window to the dugout and bleachers, where him and Mickey used to spend their time so often. Jesus Christ Gallagher, you wanna spread out a blanket and look for shooting stars next?
Her eyes are soft when she lays her hand on his cheek, wiping the tears away with her thumb. "Then you should be okay being here."
Ian stops breathing.
What is she- ?
What does this- ?
Is Mickey- ?
What the-?
"Get out of the fucking car, Ian." she smiles, and suddenly everything in Ian starts tingling. Blood rushes into his ears, adrenalin pumps through his veins, flooding him with the best feeling in a year.