blue ; gallavich

23

IAN

I walk into the physical therapist's office for the final time, ecstatic that I have finally reached my last day of treatment. Recovery wasn't that hard, but it would've been a whole hell of a lot easier with Mickey beside me.

Mickey. I haven't heard his name for a while now. I mean, other than in the context of the bar fight from last week. God knows where he is; probably drowning in booze. Fuckin' typical Mick; shit gets hard and he drinks to make it easier and just dissipate all together. He randomly disappeared one day, and I woke up in my hospital bed to see a manic Mandy and a worried Fiona trying to think of all the places that Mickey could be, Lip by their side trying to calm down the chaos.

A month passed, me pounding on Mandy's door each morning to ask her if she'd heard anything from Mickey. No. I was so hopeful, but I shouldn't have been. This is Mickey Milkovich: he runs and hides and won't come out until he's ready. He's like a little fuckin' vampire. I finally stopped annoying Mandy, but it took me weeks to realize that I probably won't see Mickey for a long time. And if I do, shit won't be the same. He'll be distant and more tough and protected than he was seven years ago.

Seven years.

I went through seven years of hell and back with Mickey, and after one incident that he couldn't control he decides to bail. I'm still not sure why he's been so affected by my shooting, I mean we all were at first but we got over it. I've recovered. I'm fine now. Everyone has moved on. Everyone except for Mickey, that is.

"Mr.Gallagher, would you take a seat?" The therapist facing me asks sweetly as I sit down graciously. Fiona looks over at me and smiles happily. She's more excited about this than I am.

"I see that your costs and payments have already been covered. You are aware of this, aren't you?" She asks and Fiona and I look over at each other in confusion.

"Um, no I was not made aware of this. Uh, who payed for it?" Fiona stutters in shock. I look over at the expression of surprise plastered on her face and realize that mine looks the same.

"Mr. Mickey Milkovich. He seemed very scared and somewhat shaken, for what reason I have no idea, and he said that he would pay for your medical insurance. I'm sure you know who this is?" She asks as I look over at Fiona in revelation.

Mickey paid for it? What the fuck is going on?

"Yeah. Yeah we know Mick. So are we free to go?" Fiona asks, still obviously in confusion with everything happening, as am I.

The lady nods in response and we exit the room, Fiona and I staring at each other and each creating different scenarios in our heads.

"Wait. Mickey paid- but how- I don't-" Fiona pauses to try and make sense of the situation.

"I don't know either. Last thing I knew he trashed the Alibi Room and went AWOL and now he's covering thousand-dollar medical expenses." I shake my head in disbelief, the words that come out of my mouth still not registering in my brain.

I feel myself heat up, start to get angry. Is this a fucking prank? Mickey just leaves and starts paying for my shit? And I know this isn't just my bipolar because I can clearly register what's happening. Is he playing with my fucking emotions?! He can't just leave and then pull this shit! What is going on?

Before I realize what I'm doing, I pull out my phone and dial Mickey's number. He hasn't called me since the whole incident happened. And still, I don't blame him for that. Does he blame himself? Is that why he ran off? Why he just-

"Hmm." I hear Mickey grunt into the phone. I take a deep breath and exhale with just as much force.

"Mickey?" I ask.