without you | gallavich

Ch. 3

'Nine days.
Did you know that there was a little girl that died? When our car hit the other car, it killed her on impact. Mandy told me today before she left. She was only eight years old.. Jesus, Ian, I don't know how I feel. She's dead. She's dead because I wanted ice cream and now I have no fucking clue how to feel. 
How the fuck..
It's been nine days, Ian. Lip doesn't leave my side at this point. He acts like I'm about to break but we all know I could kick his ass with just my pinky finger. He's actually an okay person when he doesn't have his head so far up his ass, he can't tell left and right. Carl has been around a lot, too. Keeps saying that he misses you and asking me if I love you. The little brat is relentless. Nine days.
I miss you.'
- Mickey

"So the bitch tried hitting me!" Mandy rambled on, her voice drowned out by the smaller sounds that surrounded her. The television was going on with a male talking in a monotone voice, the whirring of a lawn mower echoed into his room, and Mickey couldn't handle it. There were too many noises all at once, making his brain hurt and his entire body scream. He began scratching at his chest with bitten fingernails, hoping to rid the feeling that hasn't left him in days. The medication that the doctors had him on made him more prone to outbursts of pure rage or sadness, or so he claimed.

"Mickey... Mick!" Mandy wrapped her lean fingers around Mickey's wrist tightly, pulling it away from his chest roughly. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at her before yanking his arm back to press it against his chest as if he was protecting himself from her. She sighed quietly, scowling at herself before softening her features and slowly reached out for her brother's hand once again. "Look, Mick, you're okay. Ian is going to be okay. We're all okay and everyone is going to be better soon and you need to stop... This. This isn't the tough, loud, annoying older brother I know. This is you breaking to pieces. Don't let this.." Mandy bit her lip as she faltered off and she immediately regretted what she said after seeing the look in Mickey's eyes. There was a look she had never seen in Mickey before; the look of pure and utter shame.

'Don't touch me.'

"Mick..." Mikey pointed at the door, his eyes tightly shut as he waited. Finally, the sound of Mandy walking out of the door and shutting it echoed inside his head and he slowly opened them. Looking up the television, Mickey watched as a young girl with thick black hair began complaining about how her mother bought her the wrong colour car for her sixteenth and the boy couldn't help but to sneer at her pure ignorance. Here he was; born and raised in the South side of Chicago and he was fucking estastic over the blowjob and bag of free weed he got on his sixteenth. Getting a car would have been impossible because that's not how life fucking works.

"Mandy is crying in the hall, man, what happened?" Lip opened the door and walked in, making Mickey throw his head against the pillow in pure agitation. How fucking hard was it to get some peace and quiet in this place?  Lip stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed like he deserved an answer. His thick bush he called hair seemed messier than normal and the bags under his eyes looked worse than Mickey had ever seen them.

Mickey just pointed at the door before Lip raised an eyebrow and took it upon himself to plop himself onto the corner of the hospital bed. The black haired boy exaggerated an eye roll to make sure that it was caught before grabbing his journal and flipping to his communications page.

'Get the fuck out.'

"I'm going to give you a chance to rephrase that, Milkovich," Lip sneered, a reminder of the fact that they didn't really like each other before all of this.

'Why should I?'

"Because I'm your informat on what is going on my brother and you don't want to piss me off." Mickey couldn't help but to scowl at that remark but he knew, despite his lowkey hatred for the oldest Gallagher brother, that he was his best hope for updates. Dropping his head slightly, Mickey bit his lips as he tapped his pencil against the notepad. He needed to come up with a 'nice' response.

'Please get out. I want to be alone.'

"Yeah, not happening." Lip threw his legs up on the bed, crossing them at the feet and resting beside Mickey's hip. The Milkovich boy threw his arms up in pure frustration, tossing his book directly at Lip's face. What was the point of even arguing with the bush if he was just going to ignore you? "There's been a news update on Ian."

Oh.

Mickey leaned forward, his arms resting on the small table as he searched Lip's face for the slightest give-away. The Gallagher just cleared his throat and leaned backwards against the small frame, his voice quiet. "The cuts got infected and they need to replace the bandages. Was a nasty sight. Uh, he has brain activity so he's got a better chance of surviving, but there has been no spikes in his vitals indicating a wake up any time soon. His, uh, chest is healing though. Still haven't spoken to Fiona about it, sorry."

Mickey rubbed a hand over his face before extending it, curling his fingers repeatedly so Lip would get the notion to return the notebook. Once Mickey had it, he slammed it onto the table and pushed the table away and pushed Lip's  legs off the bed so he could swing his around to hang over the edge. Looking at Lip expectantly, he knew that the boy would figure out that he needed to leave his hospital room to either go see Ian or wander around but the room was too suffocating at the moment.

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Not that Mickey would ever admit it out loud but he was thankful for the Gallaghers and their continued company during the hospital stay. His own family couldn't be bothered to see him and even if they did, it felt wrong because Mickey was supposed to be a tough warrior. Mandy and Svetlana saw him as a cold asshole who couldn't be bothered to care about anyone but himself, yet they saw the breaking shell of an emotionally overwhelmed child confined in the four walls of the hospital. It was fucking degrading.

However, the Gallaghers didn't care. They were too busy talking up a storm, involving everyone, and eating doughnuts to care about the fact that Mickey looked like absolute shit. When Lip pushed him out of the room, they were greeted by the sight of Carl holding up a doughnut with a single, large bite taken out of it for Mickey. All the Gallaghers were down in the waiting room because Fiona wanted to find an update before work. He took the doughnut, ripped it up into tiny pieces and relished in the sweet taste as it dissolved on his tongue. He wasn't technically supposed to eat solids because of his throat still being extremely sore, but he didn't care. It was worth the pain.

"Get better, Mickey," Debbie said with a soft smile, placing a stuffed animal on his lap before running after Fiona who was silently cursing herself for getting distracted and being late for work. Carl just looked up at Lip who rolled his eyes before nodding and then the younger boy was back to finishing off the doughnut in his hand. The room fell to silence before Mickey looked over at the door, wishing he could leave. The scents in the hospital were quite nauseating and made him feel a little more ill. Lip spun the chair around suddenly, jerking the boy's knee into the wheel and Mickey's face just twisted into pure pain but he slowly bit it back to nothing.

Ian's room. The redhead hadn't changed much since Mickey saw him three days ago, but the strike of pain still hurt just as much. Lip pushed him into the room, quickly closing the door and Mickey felt his breath get caught in his throat. He wanted to run far away; he wanted to be anywhere but there. However, the thug reached out for Ian's hair and slowly ran a hand through it and he wanted to cry right there. Ian loved it when Mickey touched his hair because it distracted him, but Mickey rarely did it because 'why the fuck should i? you've got a brush, don't ya'?' Now Mickey wished he did it all the time. Pulling his hand away, he pressed a brief kiss to Ian's ghastly pale forehead before slumping back all the way in his wheelchair.

___________________

'Saw you today. Day ten.'
- Mick