Shameless - Gallavich

Three months later

Part of me knew what I was doing here and the other part of me questioned it. It was a cold Tuesday in January and the sun was barely out. The buildings were high and wet from the earlier rain, the barb wire moving briskly through the now soft winds.

It had been three months since I last saw Mickey. The hurt I had caused him and myself by lying and telling him I'd wait. The look on his face before I walked away only assured me that day that he knew I was lying too. For a few days after everything had happened, I would replay it all in my head. I loved Mickey, there had been days I wished and prayed to hear him say those words back and when he finally did, I didn't embrace it as I had imagined so many times before. Instead, I ignored it and broke the heart of a man who had changed himself completely, just for me.

I had to push the thoughts out. It was hard handling everything that happened while also battling this god damn mental disease that my mother so graciously passed on to me. The one thing she gives me and it's her fuckedupness. I needed to see him, I needed to face this once and for all. I can't keep pretending and somewhere deep down I knew that what I really wanted, was to know if he still loved me after all the pain I had caused him.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car, walking slowly towards the entry way. I could feel my heart pounding with every step I took, getting heavier and louder the closer I got to the entrance. I contemplated turning around and going back to my car at least one hundred times before I finally got to the front desk.

"What can I do for you?" The older lady said behind the desk without looking up at me. She continued to read the paper as if I wasn't even here.

"I'm here to see Mikhailo Milkovich." the words came out so fast that it caught the guards' attention, as she finally looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Your name?" she replied

"Ian. Ian Gallagher."

I had to remind myself to breathe every so often as she picked up the phone to inform whomever was on the other end, that Mickey had a visitor. I kept playing the situation in my head as I emptied my pockets and took off my coat to walk through the metal detector. What would he say to me? Would he see me and just walk out? Does he even want to see me?

A lot can happen in three months, hell, a lot can happen in three days in a place like this. Had I hurt him so bad that he wanted nothing to do with me? As another guard waned and patted me down, it was then that I realized I didn't really want to know the answer to any of it. I wanted to keep up this image in my head that everything was going to be alright, that the things I said to him never happened, that we were still together. I didn't want to know if he hated me, I didn't want to know if he stopped loving me. My heart couldn't take it. But I deserved this, I kept telling myself. I deserved to feel the pain if this ended badly because of the pain that I had caused him.

After placing my things in a locker, the guard handed me a visitor sticker to put on my shirt and he had me follow him to a gate. The alarm sounded as the gate opened up into a long hallway. The guard turned right into a room of seats, plated glass and phones. I saw the spot I last sat in three months ago and decided since the room was empty, to sit there. Would he remember? What if he...

"It'll be just a minute." the guard said, breaking my thoughts.

I had to remember to breathe suddenly because I had felt like there was no air in the room. Everything felt closed off. I kept telling myself that this needed to be done, over and over again. It felt like I had been sitting here for hours waiting. Maybe he did see me and refused the visit. Maybe he doesn't want me here. So many thoughts popped into my head that the room started to spin.

That was one of the side effects of the medication; it made me overthink too many things. I couldn't convince myself any longer to stay, I wasn't ready for whatever was about to happen, I wasn't ready for what he was going to say. I looked around the room for some kind of inspiration.

"You okay kid?" the guard asked, eyeing me with concern.

I just smiled and nodded my head. I turned back and starred at the other side where the entrance door was, waiting for it to open, waiting to see Mickey's face.

"I can't do this." I said out loud, turning to the guard. "I need to go." I told him, standing.

Just then, of course, the door on the other side alarmed as it was opening and I froze. There stood two officers and in the middle of them, there was Mickey. He wore an orange jump suit and had his hands behind his back while looking down at the floor. I could see most of his face as he got closer, noticing that he must not have shaved in weeks judging by the beard he was growing and the creases on his forehead made him look stressed. He was probably wondering who the hell was here to visit and harass him now.

I could have watched him for hours, analyzing every part of him that I had missed. My heart began to pound as it has on so many other occasions when he's been near. I knew I needed this, I needed to feel this, to feel alive; because no matter what or who I did, I knew in my heart that there would never be another Mickey. There would never be another man who could make me feel crazy mad and crazy in love at the same time. No one could care for me, love me or know me like he did. It was that simple. I knew that now.

I lost myself in my thoughts looking at him when a loud slam of the door caught my attention. Once in the room, they took his handcuffs off and pointed to where I was. It was then that he turned to face me for the first time since he'd been walked in. His eyes immediately widened when he saw me. He looked at me for a few seconds and then looked confused. I felt my heart starting to hurt as I imagined him walking away and not even listening to what it was I wanted to say.

"Still want to go?" The guard behind me asked.

It was then that I realized that I was still standing by the exit gate. I looked at the guard and shook my head no, looking back at Mickey, I slowly walked to the chair by the phone and sat down.

Mickey looked at me for a second and then looked around behind me. He probably thought Selvi paid me to come see him again. After a few moments in his thoughts, he walked over and sat down on his side. I hated that there was a barrier between us. I wanted to touch his face, feel his skin, just hug him so tight. But for now, this would have to do. We starred at each other for a few minutes. Him, probably wondering why I was here or what hurtful shit I was going to say now. Me, wondering if he was happy to see me at all, again wondering if the love he once had for me was still there.

Finally, after I could take no more, I looked at the phone beside me and picked it up, looking at him and waiting for him to do the same. He looked at his phone and then back at me before picking it up too, relief washing over my face. I suddenly couldn't think of a damn thing to say. The whole way here I replayed this conversation in my head at least fifty different ways and now I couldn't even say hello to him. I just wanted to look at him and replace the image of his heartbroken face in my head. This all felt like a dream until I saw the sides of his perfect lips go up.

He gave me that knock out smile that he only gave me when he was really happy or when he wanted something. I felt myself go weak looking at that face and the image of a once broken Mickey in my head had now been replaced with this one. Maybe we would be okay. Maybe he did still love me. All I knew at this very moment was how ridiculously good it felt to see him.

"Ian fucking Gallagher." he said, smiling big.

"Mickey fucking Milkovich." I replied back, smiling just as big at him.

We both laughed for a few seconds, which made it feel like old times.

"You here to see me? Or did Selvi pay you so I would see her?" He asked, smile disappearing.

I knew from the moment he saw me, he wondered this very thing. He wondered why I was here. I didn't want to lie, I didn't want to hide my feelings, I was done with that. I took a deep breath and for once came out and said exactly what I wanted to.

"I'm here because I miss you Mickey and hell, I still love you, always will."

I gave him a small smile as I said it, waiting for whatever reaction I was about to get. He looked shocked; I could tell he wasn't expecting the answer that he got. He laughed to himself as he looked up at me, letting out a long breath of air.

"I've dreamt of this day y'know." his voice cracking a little. "I've missed you so much. I love you too Gallagher."