You're In My Veins // Gallavich

i always swore to you i would never fall apart

(a fucking CLASSIC) 

Ian stared down at the broken boy laying on his bed. He was completely out and wouldn't wake up. Ian sighed and took a drag off of the smoke between his fingers. 

Mickey's chest was rising and falling steadily, simply sleeping off the pain. Ian's heart was shattering every time he thought about that man hurting him, how could he have let this man go? He felt tears prick at his eyes as every memory came back to him. The redheads breath became shaky, and he could feel himself start to sweat. He took a deep breath and stood up. 

He left Mickey in the room and closed the door. He walked downstairs and started some coffee. Although it was one in the morning, he wanted to be awake when Mickey woke up. He started the coffee pot and continued to take deep breaths, trying to subside his panic attack. He closed his eyes and focused only on his breathing. 

Because of how focused he was, he didn't hear the back door open. There stood Carl, looking at his brother. They knew that Ian had what Monica had, but none of them could really understand how Ian was truly feeling. Carl ran over and over in his head the word 'bipolar' and tried to tie the few things that he knew about the disease to how Ian looked right now. He could sense his brother was panicking. 

He quietly padded across the kitchen floor and wrapped an arm around Ian, causing him to jump a little bit. The redhead tensed when he realized it was his younger brother hugging him, which he rarely did. Ian simply placed his arm around Carl's shoulder, hugging him in tight. 

After a few moments they pulled apart, and Ian poured himself a coffee. He poured Carl one as well and handed it to the young brunette. 

"Are you okay, Ian?" Carl asked timidly, almost as if he was scared to really understand what was going on in his brothers head. Ian smiled sadly at him. 

"I'm okay. I've got uh... someone upstairs." He whispered the last bit, trying to not make it  seem like he was just banging someone in their shared bedroom. Carl furrowed his brow slightly at his older brother, thinking exactly what Ian didn't want to. 

"I wasn't fucking someone up there don't worry." Ian laughed lightly, causing Carl to calm. 

"You seem like you're panicking Ian, are you sure you're okay?" Carl asked again, seeing much more to his brother than he was laying out. Both boys walked over to the kitchen table and sat next to one another. 

"It's Mickey." Ian whispered, the tears he had just gotten to go away returning. 

"What about Mickey?" Carl asked, unsure what he meant. Ian gave him a look that basically was telling him to figure it out. Suddenly it clicked in Carl's brain. "He's upstairs?! What the hell?" He whisper yelled at his brother. 

Ian nodded his head lightly. 

"His boyfriend was beating him.. Lip saw him and saw he was in pretty rough shape and he told me. I couldn't leave him with that guy." Ian's lip trembled, worried about how it sounded. Carl reached his hand out and touched his brothers arm, in attempts to calm him. 

"Can I see him?" Carl asked, curious how the tough guy he once knew as his brothers lover would let himself get his ass kicked. Ian nodded and led him quietly upstairs. When they arrived at the door, Ian cracked the door to see a still sleeping Mickey. 

He creaked the door open slightly more, allowing Carl in. Carl stepped in and saw how bad Mickey really looked. The moonlight was shining on his bruises and scrapes. The young boy inhaled sharply, never really seeing someone look this beat up other than Frank. He took a deep breath and left the room. 

Both of the brothers returned to the kitchen and just caught up on everything. 

"Do you still love Mickey?" Carl asked Ian out of nowhere, causing Ian to pause his thoughts for a few moments.  

"I think so." Ian whispered, finally admitting it to himself that he knew he could never get over the boy fully. 

"Is that why you brought him back here? Went all the way to the north side to help him?" Carl asked, wanting to understand. 

"Yeah. That and I know I hurt him. I want to make it up to him." Ian whispered again, trying to calmly breathe. 

"Does he know you're bipolar?" Carl asked after a few minutes of silence. Ian looked at Carl in the eyes, knowing he just was curious, trying to figure his brother out. 

"N-no. I got diagnosed after he left this side of town. I think that's a lot of the reason I hurt him. I wasn't thinking about anything. I was acting irrationally and I took out all my built up frustrations on him. I even cheated on him because my head wasn't in the right place." Ian spewed the words out of him, knowing he couldn't just blame his actions on his mental health. He sighed deeply. 

"Yeah, Carl. I love him a lot. Never stopped." Ian spoke, looking Carl directly in the eyes as he told the boy his feelings. Carl smiled at his older brother. Although Lip was smart and in college and stuff, Carl always looked up to Ian. He struggled and was still the strongest guy he knew. Carl knew he could never understand how Ian was feeling, but admired him for how he powered through everything. 

"Then fix it." Carl whispered. "I'll sleep on the couch tonight, and don't worry... I won't tell anyone he's here. I'll let you do that." The younger smiled at his brother, trying his best to make his life even slightly easier. Ian smiled at the young brunette, ruffling his messy hair. 

"Thanks, Carl. I appreciate it." Ian told him with a smile, in which Carl just nodded. Carl walked into the living room and laid down on the couch, almost instantly falling asleep. 

What the boys didn't know about their conversation, is that a certain someone was listening in.

When Mickey heard Carl get up and head to the living room, he took it as his cue to go lie back down and pretend he was sleeping the entire time. He quickly laid down and slammed his eyes shut as Ian walked back into the room. 

He kept his eyes slammed shut but listened intensely. He could hear Ian sit in the rocking chair that was there for Liam. He could hear Ian sniffling and his heart twitched. He tried his best to appear to be sleeping. 

"I'm so fucking sorry Mick. Fuck." Ian sobbed. Mickey tightened his eyes, trying to fight back his own tears. He calmed himself down with a few breaths that went unnoticed by Ian. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see Ian with his head in his hands. Mickey could see the sobs wracking his body. He frowned to himself. 

"The fuck you cryin' about, Gallagher?" Mickey said in his best tired voice he could fake. Ian's head shot up and he looked at the black haired boy. Mickey smirked slightly at him. 

"Hey to you too, Mick." Ian laughed lightly. He stared at the blue eyes that haunted his dreams, and his body felt warm.