First Day of My Life

Remorse

"You alright? You seem distracted," Zev asked giving Mickey a sidelong glance as he drove them to work.

"Fine," Mickey responded unemotionally, looking down at his phone. It's not that he really expected Ian to text him after the way he'd talked to him a couple of hours ago, but he was so used to getting his stupid, mushy texts that it was kinda weird not receiving one. He thought about the look of betrayal on Ian's face at the breakfast table and felt the acidic taste of bile climbing up his throat. Mickey knew it was a low blow, probably one of the hardest hits he could take at Ian. He'd skirted the line of insulting Ian's disorder and he fucking knew it. Ian was codependent at times and definitely needy, but his hypersexuality was a symptom more than a lifestyle. He never imagined that he'd be so patient and understanding with another person. It's not that it hadn't hurt when Ian was with other men while they were together, but it was more difficult to know that Ian was battling a beast that so often won. His desire to care for him was stronger than his own feelings, more powerful than any anger that had simmered inside of him. He'd hold Ian and cry with him wondering why this had happened to him, why his mind had turned on itself and forced him to suffer. He'd thought they'd struggled enough. He'd made it his mission to take care of him, sickness and health, thick and thin, because he loved him more than he hated the disorder, more than he'd ever thought possible.

"You do not look fine," Zev stated matter-of-factly, "I know you, my baby," he patted Mickey's cheek, not taking his eyes off the road, "You gonna tell me what is getting to you? Or do I need to use my Mossad techniques to get it out of you."

"I'd like to see you try," Mickey scoffed, knowing that he wouldn't talk so much shit to the very physically intimidating individual, if he didn't have him wrapped around his finger.

"You can't be distracted in the field today," Zev warned, "This is how people get hurt. You need to get it out. Pack it up in a little bag, light it on fire, and leave it on someone's doorstep."

"Holy fuck, you're weird," Mickey said shaking his head in disbelief, "You get weirder every day, I swear."

"You love me," Zev informed with a cheeky grin, "Tell me you love me. C'mon, I gotta hear it sometimes, too."

"Fuck off," Mickey laughed, glancing back down at his phone. Still nothing. He debated sending something to Ian, showing some remorse, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Tell me, Mikhailo. I need it," Zev teased, a broad smile spreading across his face, "Tell me how you feel."

"I love you, you dipshit," Mickey said without malice in his voice. He laughed when Zev made a big show of how pleased he was.

"Good, now tell me what ails you, baby. I'll make it better," Zev promised, "You tell me who I need to kill and they are gone."

"I can take care of myself," Mickey reminded him, always slightly irritated when Zev got so overbearing, "Been doing it for this long."

"No offense, but you have done a shit job. This is why I'm here now. Who?" He demanded.

"Um," he considered how to answer the question. The truth was, that the events of last night and earlier that morning were both on him. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't responsible for leading him on then lashing out at him for the decisions he'd made himself, "Honestly, probably me."

"I refuse to kill you. I love you too much. What'd you do?" He looked at Mickey and saw the reluctance to spill what happened all over his face, "Let's go. Give it to me. You fuck Ian Gallagher?"

"No," Mickey said with a sigh.

"I know this is only a matter of time, Mickey. I do. So you do not have to be ashamed. You like his carrot very much. I do not blame you. We all love what gives us pleasure," Zev assured him sympathetically, "But he is not good for you. We cannot forget this."