Two sides of the same coin//Gallavich

16: Good 'ol truth

IAN
The weeks following my dreams of Mickey, I avoided the Milkovich household at all costs. Most days I spent in bed, just wallowing in self-pity. Sometimes, I'd roll over and face the window, and sometimes I'd just watch as people would walk in and out of the room. Every couple of hours, Lip would enter and forget that I was in the room. I never really made myself known, and most times I'd just close my eyes and breathe deeply so that whoever entered the room would think that I was asleep, which allowed me to keep up to date with everything going on, from Lip getting a new girlfriend to Debbie trying to lose her virginity.

When I did manage to get myself out of bed, my energy level was...meh. I wasn't overly happy and ready to waste my energy, or horribly sad and wanting to sleep. I had enough energy to last me one day at a time, and today, I was going for a walk. A simple walk. I didn't have any set destination, or any set goal. I was just going to walk.

When I exited the house, I turned right, just walking down the path. I didn't care where it led me, just that it kept going. As my feet hit the ground, one after another, I looked up to see that Mickey was walking toward me. My gaze immediately went to his left hand. My heart broke to see the wedding ring on his finger. In all honesty, I wished that Mickey marrying the Russian chick was all just a horrible nightmare, and that he was coming to see me, to be with me, but seeing the wedding ring on his left hand just broke me.

My hand went to the gun that rested underneath my shirt.

"Ian...hey." Mickey smiled, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Stay away from me." I asked, trying to remain calm.

"What?" Mickey asked, shocked and confused.

"I said stay the fuck away from me!" I pulled out the gun, Mickey clearly freaked out by the fact that I pulled a gun on him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the fuck, Ian!" Mickey yelled, stunned and confused.

"Just...stay away from me Mickey!" I demanded, Mickey inching toward me.

"Ian, look at me. I'm sorry for everything. Can- Can we just talk?" Mickey asked, trying to be nice.

"You made your choice, Mickey. It was either be with me and ultimately be happy, or marry some Russian chick and be bossed around by your father for the rest of your life. You chose the latter, and now I'm miserable, just constantly wishing that you had chosen me over your shitty father." I hissed, putting the gun back in my pocket as soon as I was far away from Mickey.

The distance between me and Mickey had finally gotten large enough for me to breathe. I hated being like this. I hated having to pull a gun on Mickey, but being around him stressed me out, it made me feel sick. He had acted so loving to me before breaking my heart because he was too scared to be himself, so I needed to cut him from my life.

As I got a few blocks away, I crossed the street when I noticed that Terry was in his front yard, a gun in his hands as he shot something off his fence. I looked away and ignored him.

"Look who it is. Little miss faggot." Terry laughed, shooting his gun again.

"Shut the fuck up, Terry." I rolled my eyes, not in the mood to deal with the only homophobic asshole I knew.

"Someone's got some balls to talk to me that way." Terry groaned, his face turning to anger.

"You know Mickey's gay, right?" I asked, Terry putting his gun down, angry.

"You better shut the fuck up before I end you, Gallagher." Terry threatened.

"I know it. You know it. Mickey knows it. He's gay and you can't force him into some fucked up American dream and expect him to change." I hissed at Terry.

"Shut your goddamn mouth you fag!" Terry pulled out his gun as I pulled out mine.

"You don't scare me, Terry." I rolled my eyes, cocking my gun.

"Oh, don't I? Shoot me. I dare you." Terry cocked his gun.

"I'm not a murderer." I sighed, shooting the mailbox that rested only a foot away from a Terry, who flinched in fear.