One drunk night// Gallavich

16

FIONA
When Ian rejected the idea of meds and instead suggested checking into a psych ward, I thought he was joking.

I mean, who would really prefer having to adhere to a somewhat strict schedule every day for who knows how long, instead of taking 2 or 3 pills every couple of hours, while you're able to go and do whatever you want? Apparently Ian.

When we got back home, the first thing Ian did was take a sleeping pill before going to bed. Mickey contacted the family. The rest of today and tomorrow would be full of happiness before Ian would check himself into the hospital tomorrow night.

"Mickey. 90 days won't be enough." I explained as Mickey put his phone away.

"I know, but...I just got him back, Fiona. I don't want to lose him again." Mickey cried.

"You can visit him as much as you want. You're his husband now, and I wanted to know if you'd be okay with Ian spending a year in the Psychiatric Hospital." I looked at Mickey, who looked like he was overwhelmed.

"You think a year will be enough?" Mickey asked, clearly upset.

"A year will be more than enough. Ian could really benefit from it. But, it is ultimately your choice." I explained.

"As much as I want to say no, I think you're right. But, how is it my choice? You're technically his legal guardian." Mickey questioned.

"Well, my guardianship over Ian ended when he turned 18, and besides, you're his husband, I'm his sister. You have a closer-ish relationship with him." I smiled at Mickey, who exhaled.

"So it's settled then? Ian will spend a year in the Cook County Psychiatric Hospital." Mickey tried to remain calm.

"Yo. Ian upstairs?" Lip walked into the house with Debbie, Carl and Liam.

"Yes." I nodded.

I ran upstairs, watching as Lip opened Ian's bedroom door, seeing his brother lay with his body facing the window.

"Jesus. Ian, fuck. You okay?" Lip asked, concerned. He sat on Ian's bed and put his hand on Ian's shoulder.

"He might be a little out of it. He took a sleeping pill an hour ago." Mickey informed Lip, who exhaled.

"What's gonna happen with Ian?" Carl asked, confused.

"He is going to be staying at the Cook County Psychiatric Hospital." I informed the group as Mickey stood back, watching Ian peacefully relax.

"Whoa, hold up. I thought we agreed on no hospital?" Lip asked, confused.

"Ian's been off his meds for a few days now, and he suggested going there. Besides, ultimately, it's Mickey's choice and he agrees." I looked at Mickey, who was now being glared at by Lip.

"The fuck? Mickey isn't a Gallagher. He shouldn't have any opinion!" Lip exclaimed, angry.

"Downstairs, now." I growled, everyone following Mickey.

"You might not like this Lip, but Mickey is Ian's husband, so he gets to make the decision." I looked at Lip, who smashed a glass on the floor.

"Since when did we allow a Milkovich to make the decisions about OUR brother?" Carl spoke up, forcing Lip to relax.

"Since Ian and Mickey got married." I glared at Carl, who hissed.

———

(The Next Night)

MICKEY
Lip was pissed off at me still, even though a good 12 hours had passed. Getting Ian into the car and to the hospital was easier than expected. Ian and I held hands as we were led to the part of the facility that delt with checking in. I stood at the bench, the papers in front of me. I had filled most of it out, but there was one thing needed.

"Ian, they just need your signature." I called Ian over, watching as he parted ways with Lip, Debbie and Fiona. He looked at me as he held the pen in his hand. With a nod from me, Ian found the courage to sign the from.

"Mr. Gallagher?" A woman asked as she opened the metal security gate, Ian slowly making his way toward the woman. Before he went in, I pulled him in and placed a soft kiss on his lips, trying not to cry. After a few seconds, I pulled away before hugging him, feeling his hands snake around my torso. Letting go of him was hard. It was like parting from my soulmate.

"Can I go in with him?" I asked, my hand still intertwined with Ian's.

"No, I'm sorry." The lady shook her head before Ian exhaled, letting go. Before long, Ian walked through the security gate, before being led down a hallway, far away from me, Fiona, Debbie and Lip.

"Don't be sad guys. He's only in there for 60 days." Debbie smiled.

"Nah. More like 90." Lip corrected her.

"You're both wrong." Fiona looked between me and her siblings.

"What?" Lip looked at me, confused.

"How long did you put down on the form?" Debbie asked, concerned.

"A year." I looked at Lip, watching as his face turned from confusion to anger.