One drunk night// Gallavich

31

IAN
Why did life have to be so hard? Everything seemed to be falling apart ever since Mickey and I got married.

"What are you doing up?" Fiona asked as she walked down the stairs, looking at me. I sat on the couch with a beer in my hand.

"I couldn't sleep." I admitted, checking the clock on the wall, seeing that it was 12:46 am.

"...you ever, uh, think about what would have happened if you ran off with Jimmy-Steve?" I asked, watching as Fiona smirked.

"Lying sociopath Jimmy-Steve? My life would be a...non-stop psycho thriller. And I definitely dodged a bullet with that one." Fiona kept smirking, leaning back as she sat on the couch.

"What if nothing ever gives you that same thrill again? Will you still feel like you dodged a bullet?" I faced Fiona, who looked around. She exhaled and took a moment before she answered.

"I don't know. Probably. Where's this coming from?" Fiona looked at me, confused. She put her hand on my leg, smiling at me.

"Things have been weird between me and Mickey since we kinda separated." I chuckled, trying not to cry.

"You mean since you ended a potentially shitty marriage on the basis of being Bipolar?" Fiona chuckled along with me, leaning back more. She glanced at me, waiting for a response.

"Can't get him out of my head. I'm just trying to stop myself from making the situation worse." I closed my eyes, imagining Mickey in my head.

"You were ready and had a bright future ahead of you. Mickey set a match to it. In all honesty, you and Mickey are great for each other. He knows exactly how to calm you down, how to comfort you, how to be loving and caring toward you. As much as I hate to say it, even though you got married way too early, you and Mickey getting married seemed inevitable, with or without Terry in the picture." Fiona smiled as she wrapped her arm around my shoulders, placing a kiss on my forehead.

"Do you think I should give Mickey another chance?" I asked, confused.

"If you don't, you might regret it." Fiona mailed, heading back upstairs.

Grabbing my phone, I clicked on Mickey's number, waiting desperately for him to pick up. Every second that I waited, I considered hanging up the call before Mickey could pick up, but eventually, I could hear Mickey's breathing.

"The fuck you want?" Mickey hissed as I tried to find the right words.

"Can we talk?" I asked, waiting for Mickey to either hang up or insult me.

"Meet me at the dug out in 25." Mickey responded before hanging up the phone.

My breathing had changed slightly. The thought of being able to talk to Mickey was heartening.

———

When the time was right, I chucked on my shoes and a jacket, leaving the house at the dead of night. It was harder to see, as it was around 1:15 am. Getting close to the dug out, I could see Mickey's back resting against the fence. He looked annoyed and cold.

"Thanks for meeting me." I smiled, watching as Mickey rolled his eyes, pulling out a beer.

"I ain't got all fuckin' night, Gallagher." Mickey opened his beer.

"Look, I had a talk with Fiona...and, uh, I made a mistake." I admitted, Mickey's eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh, you did? How interesting." He scoffed.

"I- I should never have used my disorder as a reason for our separation." I sat down.

"The truth is, we work together, in a dysfunctional way. Even Fiona admitted that we were going to end up married, apparently sooner rather than later. You know exactly how to calm me down, how to comfort me, how to be loving and caring toward me. You have been by my side, no matter how crazy I get. I just want us to try again." I explained.

"What do you mean, "try again"? We separated for like...a couple hours. You know we're still married, right?" Mickey laughed.

"I know we are...but I realised that we've never actually been on a real date." I smiled, Mickey almost choking on his beer.

"Bullshit." Mickey rolled his eyes.

"No, I'm serious. Like, like, a date where you sit down and you go to a nice restaurant and you put on a nice shirt, and you, like, eat with utensils." I laughed, standing up, walking around. I could feel Mickey's eyes on me.

"You want to do that?" Mickey asked, smiling.

"Yeah. Why not?" I shrugged my shoulders, a grin on my face.

"Like at Sizzler's?" He asked, confirming.

"Sure." I grinned more, nodding.

"You mean now?" Mickey asked, confused.

"Come on." I gestured for him to follow me.

"All right. Can I borrow a fucking shirt, then, please?" Mickey asked, his hand intertwining with mine. I smiled as I looked down at our hands, both of which had the wedding rings.

"Yeah, you can borrow a shirt." I chuckled.

"Good." Mickey smirked, placing a kiss on my cheek.