biological 》ian gallagher

eleven

Ian woke up on the floor, just as an aching pain in his side erupted. He squinted slightly at the bright lights leaking through the curtains. He knew, immediately after his eyes adjusted, that he was in the Milkovich household. He couldn't remember how, or why, he had ended up there. He only cared for Rosie, who he hadn't seen at all that day. Looking at the alarm clock, it only made his worries grow. It was almost noon, and he knew that Rosie was probably upset.

Quickly scrambling to his feet, he walked out of the room, that was obviously Mickey's, and into the living room. On his way towards the front door, Mickey saw him.

"Where the hell are you going?" Mickey grabbed his arm, shoving him against the wall, aggressively. Ian glared at him, slightly.

"Get off of me." Ian stated, sternly.

"You need to stop this shit, right now." Mickey raised his eyebrows at him, glaring back at him, just as harshly. Ian stared at him for a few seconds, capturing his features for safe keeping, before Ian shoved Mickey away.

"I have to go see Rosie." Ian said, through gritted teeth. Mickey didn't stop Ian from leaving, this time. Ian didn't bother closing the door behind him, nor did he care that most of his skin was exposed to the freezing cold Chicago air.

Ian started his way there from a fast walk, which quickly turned into a sprint. Ignoring other people staring as he ran, like a mad man, he finally reached home.

Bursting through the door, he heard nothing. He heard nothing but silence, and a few noises from the street. Speeding his way into the living room, he saw Frank, of course, drinking in the kitchen.

"Where's Rosie?" Ian asked, glaring at Frank, which seemed to be normal, by now. Nobody looked at Frank - everybody glared.

"How the fuck should I know?" Frank asked, in a sarcastic, tired voice. Ian furrowed his eyebrows, before approaching Frank, quickly. Ian thought that Frank knew something about her whereabouts; he was just too lazy and terrible to spill.

Grabbing Frank by the collar of his shirt, Ian pushed him against the counter, with rage pulsing through his entire body.

"Where the fuck is she, Frank?" Ian growled through gritted teeth, as Frank glared back at him. When he didn't respond quickly enough, Ian shook his entire body, not allowing Frank to overpower him like he always had before. Not this time. "Where the fuck is she?" Ian asked again, sounding more angry. The front door opening and closing didn't affect Ian at all, until Ian heard the sweet voice of Rosie behind him.

"Daddy!" Rosie exclaimed, making Ian let go of Frank immediately, to turn around, just in time to pick up Rosie in his arms.

"Fucking psycho." Frank mumbled under his breath, as Fiona approached Ian with a look of disbelief and anger. Ian looked at Fiona over Rosie's shoulder, as she hugged him tightly.

"Hey." Ian could breathe easily, now, as his panting turned to a softer, levelled breath. When Rosie unwrapped her arms from his shoulders, they looked at each other. "Sorry I wasn't here earlier. Had a few things to do." He said, grinning slightly at Rosie's smile.

"That's okay. Aunt Fiona and I went to her work." Rosie informed Ian, after she immediately forgave him for everything. Ian smiled, leaning his head closer to kiss her cheek, gently.

"Go put on that purple dress." Ian nodded his head towards the stairs, as he set her down. "It looks pretty on you." He needed a way for her to leave, so she wouldn't have to witness Fiona yelling at him, for, what felt like, the hundreth time since he came home from the Army.

"Okay." Rosie nodded, running up the stairs, quickly. Ever since Ian started leaving for the nights, Rosie would find any excuse she could to please Ian.

Ian turned back to Fiona, who held the same glare that Frank did. Ian's eyes shifted to Frank, momentarily, as Ian became worried that Frank would start beating him to a pulp. What worried Ian even more, was that Rosie could come downstairs and see it happen.