Locked. ||Ian Gallagher||

Victim complex.

I woke up to the feeling of somebody touching my face. My face feels sore in the places he touches but it still feel nice. I hear his faint voice, as if he was talking to me from a mile away, but can't understand what he's saying. I think I hear my name. As I slowly reach back into reality, I start feeling the pain in my left leg again. When I finally open my eyes, I see Ian. I blink in a painfully slow way. That's when I see the blood.
"Don't worry. You're good. They're gone" he says. he grabs me under neck and knees, and lifts me off the ground. I want to say something in return, but I'm scared to speak since I feel like it will rip my face in half.
"You don't have to say anything, I'm taking you to my place"
He looks me straight into my eyes with an even more worried look than before, and a single tear of his hits my face, and meets with my tear, running down the corner of eye and finally meeting with the subway tiles.

I don't know if I fell asleep or fainted, but I hear the sound of the door opening and closing. I open my eyes again, which goes a lot less painful than It did a while ago. "How did you get me here? Did you carry me all the way to your house?" I say, as I feel him laying me down on the soft fabric of his couch in the living room. "I saw what happened to you, so I got there as quickly as I could, and walked to your station."
"Thank yo-... uh" I grunt in pain, since my leg is still open and bleeding. "Sorry" I say.
"Sorry for what? You got attacked" he says, as he's running to his kitchen for the first aid kit.
"Sorry for bleeding on you couch" I say.
I feel bad for invading his home like this. It's not like I could get up and apologize and walk home. After all he took me here.
"That's what you're worried about? Bleeding on my couch? You could have died" he says as he's running back to me with bandages and three painkillers.
"Here. Have some of these" he says as he gives me one of three.  I stare at the 500 milligram pill, wondering why he even rescued me. Why did he help me?
He doesn't even know me for god sakes. Ian kneels in front of me, and starts unboxing his first aid kid rapidly. That's when i notice his black eye.
There's no way.
"Ian....did you beat up those guys?" I ask. He looks at me briefly, then at my leg, then at me again.
"I'm gonna need you to take your jeans off. I can't properly clean the cut with them on. Sorry Quinn."
"Of course" I say, as I try to unwrap myself. I fail terribly. I'm way to weak. I can barely function.
"Ian can you help me? I can't... you know.. do it myself."
"Oh uh.. sure." And so he does.
He does it so quick yet so carefully. It doesn't even hurt. "Did you beat them up though?"I ask as he's undressing me.
"Does it look like I did?" He says, pointing at his black eye.
"Thank you. Sorry about that."
I flinch as he applies the rubbing alcohol to the cut.
"Don't worry about it, you're the one in need of help right now." He says with a smirk.

A few minutes later Ian's all done. My leg is perfectly wrapped. After most of the shock is gone, and I'm not in a critical state anymore, he sits down next to me.
"So, can I get you a drink?" He asks. "A coke maybe? If it's not too much of a bother." I ask, laughing. "Is diet okay?" He asks me, getting up.
"Diet is perfect. Thank you Ian. For all of this." I say in a sweet tone. "It's in my nature I guess." He says. "So would you help anyone like you helped me?" I ask.
"Hell no."
"Lucky me" I say.
"Lucky mè" Ian repeats.
He puts my coke down on the table besides the comfortable chair opposite me.
"I'm gonna transfer you, okay?"
"Yeah of course, thank you" I say.
Ian picks me up gently, and sits me down in the chair. "Fuck." He says. "What?" I say. "Where are you going to sleep tonight? All the beds are full, The couch is drenched in blood, and I won't let you sleep on the floor or in a chair." He says, while soaking the couch in soap and water. I don't really know what to say cause I don't want to be rude. I'm so glad he even lets me spend the night. "I'll sleep anywhere. Really." I say.
"No you won't. You're laying on something comfortable tonight." he says. "If you insist." I reply.
"Would you be okay with sleeping in my bed?" He asks. I'd love to of course. But I'm not gonna say that. "Where would you sleep?"
"On the floor." He says. "It'll be good for my military training."
"You're a soldier?"
"Kinda."
"Wait, how old are you? And what's your last name?" I ask.
"Ian Gallagher. I'm 15. I turn 16 in a month. You?"
"Quinn Anderson. 15 and a half."
"I've applied for Westpoint, but I don't meet the requirements yet to enter the army." He further explains.
"Cool." I say. "You know what, I should be laying you in bed already. It's not good for all the blood to flow to your leg while sitting down." He says.
"Permission to carry you upstairs?" He asks me in a very formal tone. I sit up straight and stick my hand out to his. "Permission granted" I say, and Ian lifts me up with ease.
His one hand behind my neck and the other holding my thighs tightly. I know, time and place (I did just get knifed) but him taking care of me and holding me so close to him just makes me feel something else. For once in my lifetime, I feel loved.
"Sorry you have to carry me through your entire house." I say. "Nah don't worry. I'll have to carry plenty of people around in the army. You know, wounded people. Like you."he's funny as well. Good. "So I'm just practice to you?" I say laughing. He shakes his head in disapproval. As he's carrying me upstairs I notice the bat on his wall. "What's that for? Or better said, who?" I ask. "For anything and anyone that fucks with us." As he's walking further upstairs to the second floor with me in his arms, I get to see more and more of his house this way. It's cute. There's a lot of stuff on the floor, but I don't judge. My house literally looks worse. It's overall just very homey and cozy. He walks through the door of his room. I see a single bed, a bunk bed, and a crib. "How many siblings do you have?" I ask him.
"It's six of us in total. Me, Lip, short for Phillip, Carl, Debbie, Liam, and Fiona. She's the oldest." He says. "That's sounds fun. Never a dull moment huh?" "Not really" he laughs. "Are they asleep?" I ask. He nods his head yes.
Ian walks over to the single bed in the corner of the room.
"I'm gonna lay you down, okay?" He lays me down gently on his bed."Thank you. Can you... maybe sit me up straight?" "Of course." Ian adjusts me. He walks over to bunkbed. "This is Carl, and this is Lip." He says, pointing at his siblings. "Liam won't bother you."
Ian opens his closet. "Let me get you some clothes. I don't want you freezing tonight." He holds up an army green colored shirt. "What's your size?" He asks me. "Medium to small, but I like it baggy so I usually go for medium." He looks at the label. "It's a large" he says. "Large is fine." Ian tosses me the shirt. "I'll throw your pants in the washer. You go ahead and change." He says, and walks back downstairs.

(Long chapter, I got carried away 😭)