More Than That

Chapter 2: Old Building

   It wasn't easy to hide the pills from his family. Fiona regularly went through their stuff in a rough clean up while Carl always looked through his things in search of weapons. The whole thing made him more than slightly paranoid, he was terrified of his family finding out. That was why he moved the pills to the old abandoned building where he and Mickey used to go. 

  The place was where a lot of shit happened with them and at first it was hard to go there. It was somewhere that he knew basically no one came to. Mickey didn't come here anymore either, of that Ian had been sure by watching from the building across from it. There was a loose brick in the wall on the level where Ian had his old obstacle course and that was where he stashed his pills. The obstacle course had been another blow at first but then he just used it to keep in shape for work. Every morning he would run there, do the course and take his pills.

  He was meant to go to see his psychiatrist every six weeks and he did. Lied through his ass but he was doing okay really without the support so that was fine. Work got harder though. Drugs and alcohol were a no no with the lithium and he had always relied on them before to get him through the groping. Ian kept the job though, the tips and pay was good and Fiona loved how much he contributed towards the squirrel fund. 

  One night though he was giving a lap dance and grinding down on the man beneath him when he pulled out a little white pill and offered it to the ginger. Ian eyed it at first, just continuing to move his hips but the guy just gave a predatory grin and crooned, "you know you want it Curtis." That was when his resolve crumbled and he stuck his tongue out and swallowed the pill.

  It had been a bad idea and he had gotten so high off of just that one little pill. He had felt numb and distant and the guy had used that to run his hands all over Ian, later that night the same guy convinced him to go home with him. He hated himself even more after that... he hadn't taken one of those pills since.

  As the weeks passed and the meds balanced out further Ian found himself going back to normal. The boundless energy he had felt in his manic faze had worn off and he almost missed it. Instead he just felt so hopeless and worthless. At first he had thought it may have been the bipolar- a thought that he hated to the very bottom of his being- but then he realised that was just him now. Now he was Ian Gallagher the south side gay, bipolar with broken dreams and a complete lack of talent in school. All he had now was his body and every time that he used it he just felt worse. A piece of ass for old men to grope, that was him.

  He had taken to running to the building and doing the circuit before taking his pills and just staying. Sometimes when he got off of work earlier he would go out running earlier so that by the time he had finished he could just sit in a glass-less window and watch the sunrise. Mania or no it was still beautiful. He would just sit there and smoke and ignore the fact that the rest of the world existed. It helped that winter was rolling in and the dawns were later.

  Eventually he found himself staying longer. One time he actually fell asleep against a pillar and woke up frozen wrapped in just his coat. After that he had brought a sleeping bag and occasionally he would curl up in it and nap. Found it safer than home these days although he still made a point to go there often enough that everyone knew he was still around. He hated both of the reasons that he felt safer in the building, one reason in particular had taken him a while to come to terms with. One, he was so scared of his family finding out his secret that he just felt eternally awkward around them- he hoped that it would all pass with time. The second was that he felt closer to Mickey. That was the one that he had come to terms with, he still loved the thug and, even though Mickey didn't feel the same, he couldn't help but take comfort in the memories.

  It was six months since the wedding and four months since he had been diagnosed that he continued as ever. He had had a rough night at the club where he had been lap dancing instead of being up on stage. While that got more tips it meant more touching which meant more self hatred. He couldn't sleep but had still waited until six before sneaking out and running to his building. Because it was his now not theirs anymore. Running when he felt like that was just the best, he felt free and working out was so satisfying.

  Panting, he slowed down and pulled at his jumper where it stuck to the swear in his skin. Going over to the hole in the wall he took the pills out and looked at them for a while. He hated that this was his lot now. Swallowing them dry, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

  His head was pounding so he went over to the empty window and pressed his forehead against the cold stone and watched the sun. Stress his subconscious helpfully supplied. Stress and lack of sleep was why he was felt like such shit. Letting out a shaky breath, he turned to get his blankets to get some sleep. When he looked up he saw something that he really hadn't expected.

  There in the doorway was Mickey.