Two days later Ian dragged Mickey to the hospital. He had a bunch of doctors appointments which Mickey didn't want to go to at all but it wasn't like Ian would let him skip. After his morning shift he came to the Alibi and found his boyfriend sitting at one of the tables bending over a mess of papers and gnawing at the pen he was holding.
"Hasn't moved since he came here at 10am" Kev said who was standing behind the bar and drying glasses, "Who knew that he's so clever."
"He's always been the brain of the shit he and his brothers pulled" Ian responded and made his way up to Mickey. He placed a kiss on the black hair and gently rubbed his shoulder. Mickey turned around to face Ian and smiled. Something that rarely happened since prison and later hospital.
He felt a sting at the thought that he was about to wipe that smile away by taking him to said hospital now.
"Hey, how bad has Kev messed up his finances?" he asked trying to keep the relaxed stage, Mickey was obviously in, as long as possible.
"Okay, actually. Svet wasn't shit at this either. Has worked out a whole fucking system so it's kinda easy. Still takes a shitload of time."
"Anyhow that has to wait" Ian said glancing at his watch. If he wanted or not, they had to go. "We gotta meet with White in like half an hour."
Just as he had assumed the corners of Mickey's mouth went down the second he heard that.
"Hey, it's just routine and it won't be often soon" he tried to cheer him up but knew he wouldn't be successful.
"Don't fucking need that shit" he muttered but put his jacket on and let Ian wheel him towards the door. It worried him. This behavior of Mickey showed hopelessness and resignation. He could handle protesting and grumpy Mickey but this was alarming.
"See you guys" Kev said and Ian nodded to him before they exited the bar.
They went to the Milkovich house because Iggy had promised him to not use the car that day so Ian could drive them downtown. He knew well enough to keep himself busy with checking his phone and not watching Mickey getting into the passenger seat. It was clear that he was still in pain and had trouble to get into the car but Ian was aware that he didn't want help. Mickey felt humiliated by his condition and the last thing he wanted was other people helping him with stupid shit like getting in a fucking car. Ian knew that and he understood.
When Mickey had managed to switch seats Ian took the wheelchair and put it into the trunk before he sat down behind the steering wheel.
At the first crossroads he remembered the Snickers bar he had bought for Mickey earlier, reached into his pocket and gave it to him. Mickey seemed surprised by the gesture but took his little gift murmuring "Thank you" and giving him a small smile.
"You're welcome" he answered and smiled back. And then he started telling him about his day while Mickey ate his bar and Ian knew he liked it when he just talked about all sorts of random stuff. Mickey really listened to his stories. Whenever Ian started rambling over the things going through his mind he noticed how Mickey pretended to not give a shit while he was in deed intently listening. He sensed how his boyfriend began to feel more at ease and it filled his heart with fondness additionally to the warm feeling in his chest that occurred whenever he looked at him.
But when Ian pulled into the parking lot of the Cook County Hospital Mickey's slightly better mood was gone again.
He put the wheelchair next to Mickey's seat so he could get in but pretended to be texting while Mickey adjusted himself. Then he grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and pushed Mickey through the glass doors into the lobby. He knew the only reason why Mickey let him do that was that he had still problems with grabbing things tightly because of the bones Terry had broken at his last attempt to beat him to death.
