First and foremost I just wanna thank everyone that commented on the first part and also to all 74k reads on this book. Anyways, the second part is here! I may or may not add more to this but for now this is here. Be sure to read the first part before this one, if you haven't already.
Warning/Character Injury.
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A month passes without a word from Ian.
After the call had disconnected, the status bubble remained green, taunting Mickey as he stared at it before slamming the laptop shut, undoubtedly earning him a crack or two. He doesn't know what to do, how to help. He can't sleep or stop his mind from running and his heart from racing. Thinking of the worst possible scenario.
He comes home one Friday more restless than any other day and can't help it when he grabs the first thing in sight -the key bowl Ian had bought for their stupid keys and wallets- and throws it against the full length mirror by the door. He slumps against the door and cries and cries and doesn't stop until he feels drained of tears—of everything.
Mickey's eyes are heavy as he blinks, his head tips back as he thinks of Ian, Ian, Ian. When he stands and looks into the mirror, he feels just like it; broken, cracked, falling piece by piece.
Detouring to their room instead of cleaning the mess, he falls into bed, on Ian's side even though his scent is long gone. It brings him the small sliver of peace and sanity he needs as his eyes droop shut and his body goes limp.
He wakes to the sound of his phone ringing and reaches for it blindly. "What?"
"Hey, Mickey. You holdin' up?" It's Lip.
He sits up and anger pools all over. "What the fuck do you think?"
"Right--just. Hang in there, alright? We're all in this together."
Mickey wants to yell and scream, deck Lip in his lip and tell him that they're not in this together but he forces it down- for Ian. "Whatever," he says and hangs up without a reply. He doesn't know how he's survived the month but he figures the thought of Ian out there is all that's kept him going.
He swipes the photo from underneath his pillow and looks at Ian. Ian and his stupid smile and even stupider hair and Mickey just wants him home.
When the house is clean and Mickey manages to eat leftovers, he sits down with the laptop even though he knows not to expect anything, The phone rings twice more--Mandy and Debbie and both times make his heart beat quick but he doesn't answer. He's tired of getting calls asking him stupid questions like "you okay?" and being told Ian's going to be okay.
It's only when he gets lost in thoughts of Ian does his heart skip a beat.
His phone rings.
It's an international call from a private number.
"Yeah?"
"Hey, Mickey." Ian.
"Thank fuck," is all he can say. Mickey doesn't realize he's whimpering until Ian's saying his name over and over again. "Ian," his voice is wrecked, his head feels heavy suddenly as it falls back against the couch.
"Yeah, Mick, I'm here. Just breathe, okay?"
Mickey nods even though Ian can't see but he can't find his voice. Ian's on the phone and his worst nightmare is still just a nightmare. "Hey."
"Hi," Ian says, slow and steady and strained. "I- there was an invasion on the base." He pauses. "Tommy and Derrick they--they're dead." Ian's two friends -family- who he had taken under his wing from the beginning.
