You And Me (Gallavich)

Not Done Yet

It's been four days.

Mickey doesn't really know how he's managed to survive in the Gallagher house, but when you get used to the constant loudness and walking in on people fucking, it really isn't that bad.

Even Mandy and Iggy lightened up to the family. Iggy never really stuck around at first, but now he doesn't really mind the little kid Carl. They hang out a lot. Mandy and Debbie braid each other's hair and talk about boys. And Mickey and Ian? They've been attached at the hip for the last four days. Never leaving one another's side. Mickey's really started to enjoy the red head's presence. Plus, they haven't heard from Maria or Jamie.

"Hey Mick," Ian asked as they stood at the Kash 'N Grab, which was surprisingly almost empty for a Friday evening. Mickey looked up at Ian from where he was putting oranges on the shelf. Ian was just putting his jacket on and staring down at his phone screen. "Linda just texted me and said to pick up the shipments from Willie's. Think you can watch the store for a few minutes?"

"Whatever," Mickey replied, which meant a yes. Ian smiled and left the store. Mickey went to the back after the red head was out of view and lit up a cigarette. He watched some dumb kids trade drugs, trying to hide it but failed miserably. He snorted at the way they froze when a cop car drove by. He heard what sounded like the freezer door shut and raised his eyebrows.

"Back already?" He mumbled to himself. He turned around and shrugged, letting Ian stock the shit in the freezer alone. His hands still felt clammy from all the fucking fruit he stocked. He finished his cigarette, taking his dear time. He laughed to himself lowly when he saw a kid get smacked in the face with a basketball. He turned around and walked back inside, furrowing his eyebrows when he didn't see Ian anywhere. Again, he shrugged and went to the freezer doors for a beer. When he leaned down to take a bottle he choked, almost shitting himself when he saw two guys fucking. He gasped and smirked, closing the door quietly and sneaking to the larger freezer door. He looked through the window to see Kash taking it up the ass from some dude.

"Hello," he said conversationally, a cocky smirk on his face as he leaned against the door. The man fucking Kash looked up surprisedly and pulled out, quickly pulling his pants up as he pushed past Mickey and out the door. Mickey was still staring with a smirk at Kash when the door jingled shut. Kash had his pants back up and the most worried look on his face. "Ple-"

"Save it, brown ass," Mickey snorted. "Always knew you were a fag."

Kash's mouth opened and shut like a fish. "Linda doesn't-"

"I realized."

"I didn't know you were-"

"No shit."

Suddenly the door opened again and Mickey bent his neck to see Ian entering whilst shuffling his jacket off his shoulders. He grinned when he saw Mickey, but it wiped away when he got closer and just saw Kash standing there looking like he was shitting his pants. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Kash said quickly.

Mickey raised his eyebrows amusedly but played along anyway. "Yeah, nothing. Was just telling Kash 'N Grab here to start helping out around the place, ain't that right?"

"That's right," Kash replied hesitantly. He wiped his hands on his jean clad thighs and took one last look at Mickey before leaving the freezer. Ian raised his eyebrows amusedly at Mickey once Kash was out of sight and laughed.

"Okay, then," he snorted, walking back to the cash. "Help me unload the truck, alright?"

-

-

"Hey!" Mickey yelled at Ian who was rushing in the opposite direction of the Gallagher house quickly. "The fuck are you going?!"

"Gotta run a quick errand!" Ian replied as he began jogging backwards, waving to Mickey. "You head home! Don't worry about me!"

Mickey sighed as Ian turned back around and ran faster. He just realized that he didn't really know half the shit that was going on in Ian's life. Ian basically knew a lot about him so far, a lot more than a lot of people would find out in a week. Mickey shrugged the stress of that off of his shoulders, he didn't have time nor patience to worry about that. Instead he turned into the corner leading to the Gallagher street, and barely felt the body push him up against the wall.

"Jesus fuck!" Mickey yelled as his back collided roughly with the brick wall. He looked up to see a hooded man holding a knife in the air.

"Mickey Milkovich, aren't ya?" The man growled menacingly, making Mickey scrunch his nose at the vile smell from the man's breath. Just as Mickey was to push him away he felt the knife press against his neck. He swallowed, feeling his fear rise when he realized he had nowhere to go. Nobody was going to save him.

"Fuck you, fuck do you want?" Mickey spat, struggling against the wall. "You're making a big fucking mistake."

"Your brothers gonna come out to get me?" The man teased in a whiny voice. He laughed and pressed his forearm against Mickey's neck, choking him. Mickey's arms came up and gripped the man's arms as he choked and struggled more. "They don't give a shit about you."

"F-fuck," Mickey sputtered. He felt it, deep in his stomach as his breathing cut off. There was no oxygen in him. This is it.

He felt a sharp stinging feel against just above his abdomen as he screamed. Soon his screams turned to a gurgling sound of blood coming out as the man laughed darkly and let Mickey go, watching Mickey drop to his knees on the ground.

"That's for you, Milkovich!"

Mickey fell face forward on he ground, barely feeling the sting of gravel digging into the side of his cheek. He tried to scream, yell for help, but nothing but bubbled blood and spit came out. He closed his eyes, and sighed in pain. His throat was closing up, and he rolled onto his back. He arched his back high in the air in pain as he screamed, loud enough for the city to hear. He tilted his head upwards to see the handle of a knife sticking out of his stomach. He tried sucking in as much breath as he could. When nothing was happening and his vision was slowly fading, he knew what was going to happen. He knew what this meant.

He's dying.

He didn't think about everything he failed to accomplish in life, but he more pitied himself for getting nowhere. He had thought of so many magnificent and amazingly bone-chilling ways to die, but instead he ended up with a knife in his gut bleeding out in an alleyway. But what made him hurt the most, as he felt his fingers coat themselves in his own blood, was a certain red-head that held a weird friendship with him.

Gallagher.

Ian fucking Gallagher.

Mickey knew at that exact moment while his vision blurred and started to fade, that Gallagher was more than a friend. He felt himself smile lopsidedly. Of course. Gallagher. It was him all along. He likes the kid, a lot. Of-fucking-course.

Ian Gallagher...