without you | gallavich

Ch. 4

Day eleven.
I start physical therapy today. Yeah, Mister "I've been shot more times than I can count" is actually going to learn how to fucking walk. Apparently my knee is damaged but they want to see how much weight I am able to put onto it without damaging it even more. This is so stupid and I'm going to look like a fucking pussy.
Lip keeps disappearing around the same time as Mandy and I'm getting suspicious. We don't need another Gallagher-Milkovich couple because fucking ew.
It's been eleven days, Gallagher. Wake up.
- Mickey

"Okay, Mr. Milkovich, can you please grab onto the bars?" The doctor kept her voice calm and gentle as she placed her clipboard onto the tablet to the side. She moved to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder and on his hip to help support him. He hissed loudly at the sharp pain in his knee but the sound came out as a garbled whine. Biting the inside of his cheek, Mickey tightened his grip on the bars and bit onto his lower lip.

"Don't push yourself, Mikhailo. It takes time." Mickey felt the doctors hands move down to his hips and he felt his chest tighten at the feeling; it was strange, unnecessary, and he wanted it gone. Tightening his grip even more until his knuckles turned white, Mickey pulled himself up to a slightly hunched over position before dragging his foot along the ground. He grit his teeth together, clenching his eyes at the pain before taking a step forward. The pain in his knee intensified until he could no longer put any pressure on it and he stumbled forward, falling onto the ground in front of him. He wrinkled his face, curling his hands into fists before slamming them down on the ground. Here he was, barely able to move, lying on the ground like a hopeless starfish. God, he would end them all.

"That concludes our session for today," the doctor huffed, stepping away from Mickey to grab her clipboard once again. The black haired boy scowled, grabbing onto the bars once again to pull himself up while balanced on one knee. He finally managed to flop down in his wheelchair with a cold expression on his face. His entire body was screaming with psin, making him feel like screaming and crying all at once. The doctor walked back over to him, cradling a small pouch filled with liquid connected by a small tube to a thick needle. Mickey bit the corner of his lip and rested his hand on the arm of the chair. He closed his eyes and didn't bother opening them again until he felt the tape against his skin and her fingers skimming along her legs as she dropped his journal into his lap.

"I'll see you soon, Mikhailo." Mickey internally scoffed at the statement, hating the woman more and more each time she spoke. It wasn't her fault that he got hurt or anything, but he just didn't like her.

"How'd it go?" Mickey looked up to see Lip leaning against the wall just outside of the doors of the room. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, curled into fists. The older boy shrugged, keeping the scowl on his face as he ran his fingers awkwardly over the wheels. Lip pushed himself off the wall and grabbed onto the handles, beginning to push Mickey down the hall.

"You know...  You aren't so bad, Milkovich." Lip kept his voice quiet as he turned the corner, pushing Mickey into the elevator. "I might have misjudged you." Cradling the small notebook on his lap, Mickey scribbled down his first thoughts and held the book up, looking behind him with a sly smirk.

'Phillip Gallagher admitting he was wrong? Holy shit! I never thought I'd live to see this.'

"Tell anyone and I'll kill you," Lip scoffed, making Mickey grin widely. All that popped into his mind was how much Ian would love this; his boyfriend and his closest sibling getting along because they were two of the most important people in his life. They kept him on his feet. Well, they did before he ended up in a coma.

'That's the Lip I know.'

___________________

"Sorry for being such a dick yesterday," Lip muttered, picking his sandwich off his plate and shoving it into his mouth. Mickey tapped on the tsble, making a facial expression to signify 'don't worry about it'. They were sitting in the cafeteria of the hospital in the furthest corner away from everyone. Lip didn't want to see his siblings and Mickey didn't feel like going back to his room so they found themselves in the cafeteria, getting food for Lip and a cool drink for Mickey. "Uh, Karen was being a bitch."

'She's always a bitch.'

Lip laughed at the statement, nodding slightly in agreement as he swallowed his food. Clearing his throat, he nervously picked at the hanging piece of ham as he tried to figure out how to word his next sentence. "Could you... uh.. Could you tell me what you see in Ian? None of that "he's cool, I guess" bullshit. I want to know."

Mickey stared at Lip for a few moments before nodding, pulling a piece of paper out of his journal to begin writing exactly what Lip wanted to hear. He kept himself shielded away from the younger boy's prying eyes but was slowly interrupted by the sound of a clearing throat. He quickly covered the page with his hand, looking up to see his therapist standing over him.

"I know it's sudden but I need to push your session to today. Is that okay with you?" The young gentleman asked, his hands cradling each other as he looked down at the table with a mixed look of impression and disgustment. Mickey pointed down at his piece of paper once more and began scribbling down everything that came to mind. Writing the words down instead of keeping them locked up in his mind felt like a mass relief; like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He continued to scribble all down what he needed to say until hehe therapist cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow impatiently.

Clicking the pen against the table, Mickey began fiddling with the wheels until he got a handle on then and gave a curt nod to Lip, following after the older gentleman. Lip waited until the Milkovich boy was far out of sight before picking up the letter, his mouth filled with pieces of his sandwich.

'I see a lot in Ian. I see the boy who should have never ended up in the Southside - who should have made it big and far in life without the weight of his asshole parents to drag him down. I see the stories that he loves to tell and the things he never says. Ian is everything to me.
He has a laugh that could make anyone smile and he has a smile that could make even gay girls drop their panties for him. He has this radiating aura of this absolute obnoxiousness that is somehow okay because he sees the best in everyone.
I see the person I want to grow old with in your brother.'

___________________

'You should wake up and come help me relax, Ian. I'm tired of not being able to relax without you. I miss you more and more each day.
-Mickey