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Mickey stared intently at the gun that was lying on the table; he understood the blinding pain that could be inflicted when the butt of that specific object was smashed against your cranium. He figured that being pistol whipped was one of those things that were inevitable when living in a house with Terry Milkovich. It still didn't make the pain any less tolerable even when trying to sustain his hard ass persona; that shit hurt. Mickey knew his dad (if you could even call him that) wouldn't do anything, even if Mandy had gone to Terry instead of him. It probably didn't mean much that some scumbag touched his only daughter. That's why Mickey could feel the anger boiling beneath his skin, he didn't know how to show emotions well, or even at all; but when it came to Mandy he always seemed to make an exception even if she didn't know it. Mandy had told him what that fucking Gallagher kid had done to her, he was seething. Yes Mandy was a bit of a slut, everybody on the south side knew it, but she was a Milkovich and nobody messed with the Milkovich's. Specifically nobody messed with Mandy when Mickey was around to fuck them up.
Mandy had come home the previous night with her mascara running down her face, Mickey couldn't help but think she looked like a sad clown, maybe it wasn't funny but Mickey couldn't help it. He found humour in things other people would find obscene. She had crashed down on the couch next to him and he could hear small sobs coming from next to him. He didn't know whether he should just ignore it and maybe she would deal with it on her own, but when he had turned to face her, he could actually see the hurt in her eyes and that made Mickey's gut twist with emotion. He didn't like it and the only way to make himself feel better was to find out who he needed to beat up to make Mandy happy again.
Mandy had half sobbed and half stuttered about Ian Gallagher, he had apparently forced himself on her when she said no. To be honest Mickey could tell there was more to the story that she was letting on, most people assumed just because he acted like a thug that he was also clueless. That wasn't the case, he just liked for people to assume that about him, it made it easier for him to swindle them or catch on quickly when they tried to fuck him over. He didn't really listen to the rest of her rhetoric he already had a target and that's all he needed to know.
The gun lay motionless, the dull metal reflected in the sunlight that was streaming through the open curtains. It was a rarity that the house wasn't basked in anything but darkness. Terry was usually passed out in the exact space that Mickey was currently residing in on the sofa, therefore the curtains remained closed to ensure their old man didn't move during his passed out phases. The house seemed eerily calm when Terry wasn't around, he was only gone for a few days this time but the entire family seemed to breathe a bit easier whenever he wasn't around. No one would ever really know how much Mickey hated his dad, he couldn't form a coherent idea as to when he realized that he had become a pawn in his father's life. He was just the muscle and sometimes the brains behind his dad's 'business'. Mickey knew that south side trash like him didn't get anywhere in life and so he had become what everybody expected of him. A thug with knuckle tattoos and the ability to scrap like his life depended on it. Nothing was going to change his life. He had already realized that years ago. Mickey sighed and lit another cigarette, he had already chain smoked three while staring into space for the past half an hour. He was contemplating the best way to break all of Gallagher's fingers. He couldn't decide between one at a time or all at once. It didn't really matter to Mickey as long as the kid got the message that if he ever even laid eyes or a finger on Mandy again he was a dead man.
The door opened and Mickey cast a short glance at who had entered through the front door. He saw Mandy stomping through the house; her usual bubbly attitude was seemingly replaced with a permanent frown etched into her face. He hates seeing Mandy miserable, usually it was only their day that would affect her mood like this; whenever he was gone Mandy was always the life and soul of the house, her laughter and awful music could be heard blasting through the house at any given time. It was unusual and Mickey felt like he should care more, but at least he cared. Mickey threw a slight smile her way when she glanced over at him, he never usually did affection, and he spoke with his fists more often than not. However now seemed like a time that Mandy needed to know that he was there, even with such a seemingly small gesture. Mandy only rolled her eyes and headed towards the kitchen, he could hear the clattering of pans and slamming of cupboards from behind him. Mickey walked over to the bat that was placed near the entrance to the living room; he eyed the gun on the table before deciding against it. Gallagher needed a beat down to put him in his place, not an execution. The rage that had somewhat been dampened down since Mandy got home had now returned with a vengeance. He shrugged on his jacket and combed his fingers through his slightly greasy hair, picked up the bat and went to call on his brothers. Each of them also wanted in on making Gallagher pay for what he had done to Mandy.
Although they were there more for the prospect of violence than family but either way they would get the job done. Mickey was flanked on either side by his brothers before entering the store. Kash & Grab was the only place Mickey really frequented, it was the easiest place to rob, especially when Kash seemed so shaken by the slightest sneer from Mickey and it was like taking candy from a baby. Sometimes it really was too easy and he really wished towel head would put up a fight every now and then. Fuck it; at least it made sure that there was enough food on the table for Mandy and his brothers. However most of the time it was just Mickey's way of seeing how much he could get away with. Being a Milkovich definitely had some perks. "IAN GALLAGHERRRR!" Mickey practically sing songed as he bounced the bat off the closest display to him. Just as he was about to threaten Kash about the whereabouts of that fucking dipshit he saw a flash of red hair running towards the back. Mickey gave chase; he loved the exhilaration and excitement he got from giving someone a beat down. He got to the door just as the red head slammed it shut. Fuck. Mickey pounded his fists on the door before Kash told them about the door in the back. They made their way to the exit and slammed the door behind them. Mickey watched as his brothers flew round the corner, he however wanted one last thing. He went back into the store and grabbed a few items off the shelf, staring at Kash, challenging him with his eyes to intervene. Instead Kash just watched frozen on the spot watching intently as Mickey got what he wanted and finally left. Mickey went back outside to meet up with his brothers, they looked positively bored. Mickey couldn't blame them, unless they were getting high or beating someone to a pulp they got pretty agitated. They walked in unison towards the snooker hall a few blocks away.
They needed something to let off some steam and eventually Gallagher would get what was coming to him. With a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other Mickey contemplated how he was going to track down the illusive Ian Gallagher. He didn't really know much about the kid apart from what Mandy had told him and the fact he was pretty sure everyone on the south side of Chicago knew who Frank Gallagher was. If there was one family that came close to being as fucked up as his then it was the Gallagher's. Although Mickey couldn't help but wonder if they were all as void of happiness as he was. Mickey cracked his knuckles and stared down at his FUCK U-UP tattoos that were badly drawn into his skin. Mickey wore them like a brand of sorts, he knew what people thought of him and he was undeniably going to live up to that expectation whether he liked it or not. He took his shot and sunk the black ball into the pocket, it was impressive even if he did say so himself. After the amount of whiskey he'd consumed in the past hour his entire body was buzzed and he was seeing double, unfortunately this is what most days felt like and being numb made Mickey block out all of the bad things he'd seen and done.
Mickey was looking out of the window, trying to sober up slightly. Just as he was considering trying to blag some coke of one of his brothers he saw Lip Gallagher walking past the window. He quickly picked up the queue that had been discarded about ten minutes before. He motioned for his brothers to follow him and he exited the back door hoping to cut Lip off before disappeared from view.
Mickey stopped in front of Lip and a blonde girl. He was pretty sure it was Karen Jackson, her reputation for being a slut was on par with Mandy's and he could vaguely remember trying to get into her when he was in school. He didn't find her appealing in the slightest but even he needed his dick sucked every now and then. She had had the audacity to reject him though and he kind of liked that she wasn't afraid to reject him when most girls would get with him just because they were afraid of him. Not that he cared much about what girls thought of him, or people in general but he enjoyed it when people challenged him every now and again.
However as Mickey exchanged small talk with the eldest male Gallagher he was grating on his last nerve. He could tell that Lip understood what was going to happen and even smart mouthed him, Mickey figured that Lip thought if he was going to get fucked up then he might as well do something to get it.
Mickey felt the tip of his boot crunch against a rib, either way whatever he had just jammed his foot into was going to bruise like a bitch. He had to admit Gallagher took it quite well for someone who had more brains that sense. Mickey gave one last kick to his abdomen before sauntering off.
Mickey woke up the following day, he rolled over cautiously trying not to open his eyes, his head was pounding and his muscles felt like a lead weight dragging him under. He wiggled his toes and almost jumped when a bottle dropped to the floor with a loud clink. He didn't even remember bringing a bottle to bed. Not that he'd be able to tell if it was from last night or from any number of times he'd gotten hammered the past week.
"Mickey, if you don't move your ass, you don't get any eggs"
"Fuck off, your shrieking is making my head even worse" he opened his eyes just enough to see Mandy stood at the door of his bedroom rolling her eyes at him.
Mandy stormed off muttering about something or other, he really didn't care at this moment in time. Did she say eggs? Mickey thought about the pros and cons of getting out of bed and after the smell of breakfast finally wafted into his room, his decision was pretty much made for him. He gingerly got out of bed and pulled on the closest pair of pants that he found on the floor. His sweat pants were worn and comfy especially on days like today when he didn't feel like doing anything but sitting on the couch and killing some virtual zombies.
He padded into the kitchen and sat at the table, resting his head against the cold surface. He was trying hard not to fall asleep again. He felt the table shake slightly and when he looked up there was a glass of water and two paracetamol next to where his head had just been resting. He quickly downed the pills and started eating the eggs, they were really good. He looked at Mandy who was stood by the fridge making more eggs for herself. He didn't know why she cared for them like she did but he really did appreciate her, even if there was no way he'd ever show it.
"So... Did you find Ian?" Mandy drummed her fingers on the counter as she spoke, Mickey could tell that there was something going on with her but he wouldn't and couldn't ask. His entire body felt revulsion at the idea of being affectionate, even to his own family. He wasn't good at talking and he definitely wasn't good at emotional shit so instead he just shoveled more of the eggs in his mouth and contemplated his answer.
"No he fucking made a run for it before I could get to him, but don't worry I'll make sure that fucker gets a beat down by the end of the day" Mandy only nodded in response before turning back towards the oven. Fuck it there goes his plans of doing nothing for the day.
Mickey felt the red dripping down his fingers; he looked appreciatively at his handiwork. The graffiti was dripping slightly and the can of spray pain was unfortunately empty. Mickey really wanted to add a weird face; like two x's with a line underneath to resemble a dead person. However he knew that it would probably take away the whole threatening tone of the message he'd just painted on the wall. Meh well at least he could laugh about it in his head.
He knew that Gallagher would see his message; he'd made sure it was close enough to the Kash & Grab so that Gallagher would have to pass it whichever way he decided to walk home. It said 'Ian Gallagher is a dead man' there is only one way to take that and he hoped that he was quacking in his fucking boots.
He looked down at his hands and realised he was covered in remnants of his artistic streak, it bared the uncanny similarity to blood and Mickey didn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted at the indifference he felt about it even if it was blood.
It was getting dark outside and the winds were picking up. Mickey shivered slightly but was determined to hard face the weather like he did everything else. He decided it was time to try a different tactic to his previous ones. He wandered along the street and finally came to a stop outside the shabby looking house. There were only a few lights on upstairs but honestly he didn't care if he woke the whole neighbourhood. Mickey shouted at the top of his lungs. Exclaiming in detail just what he was going to do to Ian when he eventually got to him. Every so often he would see the curtain of one of the upstairs windows twitch but other than that there seemed to be no response to his vicious taunts. "This isn't over Gallagher!" Mickey casually strode away from the house hoping that he could get Iggy to share his stash of good weed when he got home. He could be persuasive when he wanted to be.
The next afternoon Mickey was sat absent mindedly watching some show about an English family that grew up on a bad estate. He laughed at how it bore scary similarities to his life right now. Although the accents were really putting him off.
The next thing he knew the door flew open and Mickey instinctively grabbed the closest thing to him, hoping that whoever was stupid enough to come into the Milkovich home was ready to fight him. He looked at what he had picked up; it was a half empty bottle of Jack. He really hoped he didn't have to use it; he didn't want to waste good liquor on some junkie with a death wish. Mickey waited for something to happen, instead he heard Mandy shouting.
"Are you going to help me assface or you going to just stand there" Mickey put the bottle down realising that if he did smash it over Mandy's head for scaring the shit out of him then the only person he could actually stand wouldn't be around anymore and he wasn't ready to deal with that.Mickey decided he needed to stop mixing his drugs with alcohol the come down always made him weepy. It was not fun.
He got to the door and saw Mandy struggling with shopping bags. He picked up two bags she had cautiously dropped on the floor before taking them to the kitchen. Mandy followed behind him and smiled.
"What the fuck is all this?" Mickey rubbed his temples he could feel another headache and he didn't want to know why Mandy had actually bought groceries.
"It's mostly just junk food for you idiots when you get the munchies. I also bought some pizza bagels for when Ian comes over later" Mickey stared at her with his mouth open, he was pretty sure Mandy had just said Ian. As in the guy he'd been running around Southside for the past two days trying to kneecap.
Mandy just stood there with that stupid grin on her face and after a few moments she realised that Mickey was just stood there staring at her. Oops she figured now was the best time to call off her brother before he went after Ian again.
"Oh. Yeah me and Ian sorted stuff out and he decided to ask me to be his girlfriend"
"Seriously? What the fuck ever. Just don't bang him while I'm in the house" He watched as she smirked at him and resumed putting all the things away.
Mickey really didn't understand girls probably why he never really felt the need to be in a relationship with one. He got his dick sucked and fucked when he felt the inkling but it never seemed to scratch the itch. Maybe it was also the fact he got hard watching the guys in porn pounding into the willing girl. He hated the fake moans that female porn stars made but the grunting and moans a man made seemed to send shivers down his spine and straight to his dick. Fuck Mickey really needed to whack one out, his brain was not as drug hazed as usual and it was making him think things that he knew would get him killed by Terry or any other homophobe that lived in this neighbourhood. He walked into his room and slammed the door, dropping onto the bed and screwed his eyes shut hoping to sleep.
Mickey heard laughing from outside his door; it spooked Mickey for a second as unfortunately it was an uncommon occurrence especially when Mandy wasn't around. He quietly exited his bedroom and saw Mandy sat, with whom he assumed was Ian, on the couch. Mickey hadn't noticed before but the ginger looked pretty sweet (why the fuck did he just think sweet?) his laugh rang out in the void of the Milkovich house and it seemed to do everything other than annoy Mickey like it should have.
He couldn't help but notice how his eyes crinkled slightly when he laughed and how care-free he seemed. It definitely wasn't what he expected from someone who he assumed had the same sort of upbringing as him. He'd have to slyly inquire to Mandy about some of the specifics. Or not, he didn't even know why the fuck he cared. Mickey shook his head chastising himself for his own thoughts and decided to head out leaving his sister and her stupid boyfriend.
"Later losers, hope you and firecrotch over there have a good night" his voice dripped with sarcasm and Mandy flipped him off as he exited the house.
He decided to make his way to the Kash & Grab. He needed some munchies before he found a quiet place to smoke some of the good weed that he'd been saving from the other night. At least Mandy hadn't found it. The bell rung above his head as he entered the store, the sound rang loudly around the empty shop. He looked over to where Kash was sat behind the register. Kash quickly averted his gaze and left Mickey to his own devices. Mickey really wanted a confrontation, he needed an outlet but instead he'd gotten a fucking pussy. Mickey grabbed a few items and was heading towards the door, daring Kash to look at him. Mickey's head started swimming with images of his sister and her boyfriend on their couch, their laughter ringing in his ears. The fact that he knew that Terry would back today from his field trip today and that meant everyone in the house walking on eggshells again until Terry decided to fuck off again or got incarcerated again, whichever came first.
He thought about how dumb he felt about not being able to find a way out of this life that he was born into. With all these thoughts Mickey's chest tightened and he finally snapped. He walked over to the counter and slammed his fists down. Kash looked physically shaken at finding a Milkovich staring him down. Kash looked from left to right before reaching under the counter with trembling hands. Mickey watched as Kash brought out the gun. Mickey couldn't help himself he could feel the laughter bubbling inside his throat, he felt the hysteria clouding his thoughts but on the outside he steeled himself. He found it easy to keep his hard exterior impeccable; he'd had years of practice after all. In a flash of movement he had grabbed the gun from Kash's hands and slipped it in the waistband of his jeans whilst maintaining eye contact with the weak cashier. He could see Kash's eyes go wide at the realisation of what head just done. Mickey thought about how Linda would probably go off her head if she found out about the gun being stolen. Everyone knew that no matter how much of a pussy Kash was when it came to the Milkovich clan it paled in comparison to how submissive he was to his overbearing wife.
He thought about leaving the store, the gun that he had just commandeered was victory enough but he couldn't help himself, he turned back to face him and Mickey drew back his fist and landed a punch right to Kash's left eye. He grabbed the back of his head and bashed it off the counter, once, twice, three times before figuring it was enough. Kash let out a small whine as Mickey moved to behind the counter and grabbed the closest bottle of vodka to him and high tailed it out of the store. Mickey was buzzing; the adrenaline was still coursing through his veins. He didn't understand why he did what he did. It was the way he was taught to deal with things. Fight or flight was never an option. It was fight or die and in this neighbourhood everyone knew that.
Once he eventually reached home he quietly slipped his key in the door and turned the knob. The house was basked in darkness and the only sound he could hear was the loud snoring coming from the couch. Mickey tip-toed past Terry who was passed out on the couch; he didn't want to wake the sleeping bear, especially when he'd get a beating for it. He tentatively stepped inside his room and shut the door. He swigged from the stolen Vodka and threw the gun into the draw next to his bed. He lay back on his bed and tried not to think about the nights events. Everything about the night should have him cowering in fear that the cops would be beating down the door any minute, but he knew that Kash would never rat on him. Not if he wanted to live another day. All Mickey could do was shut his eyes and he slowly reached inside him pants. He started slowly palming himself through his boxers; he needed something, a release.
He slowly started stroking himself, he closed his eyes and readjusted him position on the bed, lying comfortably against him pillows, and his movements started getting slightly faster. He closed his eyes trying desperately to imagine something that could help him get him get off sooner. He saw red hair and freckles, his hand moved faster and Mickey tried to stifle the moans he could feel creeping up out of his throat. He couldn't stop his brain from conjuring up such specific images; he saw bright green eyes shining at him from behind his eyelids. He could feel his cock leaking, usually he tried to come as quickly as possible, but tonight he found himself savouring the feeling in his stomach. The way his toes were almost at the point of cramping and how his legs were trembling. He couldn't help but imagine those amazing red lips wrapped around his cock; he wondered how amazing it'd feel to be enveloped in that warm wet heat of that mouth. He could feel the heat pooling in his stomach and his balls tightening, it didn't take long after that before Mickey came. In many ways it was one of the best orgasms he'd ever had from just jerking himself off, then again most of his experiences weren't that mind blowing to begin with. His breathing finally started to go back to normal and he felt the sticky aftermath of his orgasm cooling on his stomach. He found a dirty shirt that was scattered on the floor and wiped himself off with it, he threw it back to where he had picked it up from and took another deep swig from the vodka. How the fuck had he just come from thinking about his sister's boyfriend. He was fucked. He signed and lay down on the bed; he sure as hell hoped no one heard his moans. It didn't take long before sleep washed over him; his dreams were anything but pleasant.