blue ; gallavich

15

AN/ All I need to say is that there's some provocative sex ;)

MICKEY

Just as I suspected, when confronting my siblings about the Terry situation Collin suggested murder, Iggy suggested framing, and Mandy suggested anything that wouldn't get us in trouble. After all of our consideration, we went along with the idea of waiting for Terry to fuck up so we had a good reason to kill the som of a bitch. Not that we need much more of one then we already have. Shit, the man abandoned his kids and left us when I was only seven and came back drunk and abusive. That seems like a hell of a reason to murder the twisted fucker.

I walk into the living room and sit down next to Ian, who seems nervous and is biting his nails down to the nub. I can see fear in his eyes as he looks up at me and I sit down next to him, taking a swig of my beer. I offer some to him and he takes it graciously, downing the whole glass.

"Jesus Gallagher. At that rate you're gonna become an alcoholic." I play and he pathetically smiles at his best attempt to hide his nerves. "The fuck's up with you, Ian?" I ask him. He can't still be freaking out about the Caleb thing. Caleb is a piece of shit, worse than me- and that's saying a lot- and Ian needs to get over his dumb ass and stop aching about it.

"Be careful. With Terry. Don't get hurt." Ian pleads as I feel my heart sink in my chest. He heard the conversation. My mind wanders to the terrible idea of Terry hurting Ian and I shudder at the thought.

"I won't." I tell Ian, not making any promises. It's Terry- chances are I'm gonna get my ass kicked. I can't calm my nerves and it's not much help that Ian is petrified, too. I look over at him; he's staring at a wall and once again gnawing on his nails, or whatever's left of them. I pull his fingers away from his mouth and scold him, "stop that" as I examine his chewed skin. "Jesus, soon enough you're not gonna have any fingers." I poke around again, this time earning a nervous laugh and a slight shove.

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Ian makes pancakes, which I eat in about 2.3 seconds seeing that I haven't eaten in the past two days, and he laughs as he makes me another plate. After a long conversation about Yev's birthday, Ian gets up and stretches, then starts to travel towards the door. He runs his hands through his hair a few times before closing his eyes and taking a deep inhale. He turns the handle and starts walking out as I rush up to him quicker than I've ever gotten up before. "The fuck you goin'?" I ask him.

"Home. I don't live here, ya know." He says. Just as he is about to leave, I grab his forearm tightly and force him to turn around and look at me. He stares at my worried face and memorizes it, taking each dent and scrape into detail and trying to find an explanation for my sudden jolt of horror. Instead, he finds nothing but the lines and creases in my face and I make sure to keep it that way. There are things he's better off not knowing about.

"Well you're living here tonight." I say. It's not an option: I'm not letting Terry rip his face off. I don't even want Ian knowing about how Terry wants him dead. My siblings and I are already scared shitless and I don't need Ian being terrified, too. He already has enough shit to deal with and  having the weight of Terry's wrath on his shoulders wouldn't be much help.

Ian musters up the courage to finally say something, asking "can you tell me why?"

"Eh," I ponder for a second before replying, "I'm gonna leave it at no for your sake and mine. But you're not aloud to leave this house at all." I order as he looks at me and understands the seriousness in my voice. "And I'm not asking, I'm telling you that if I find out you leave this place I'll give you black and blue fucking balls, Gallagher."