Chapter Text
Ian was five when they first met. The new family was moving in across the street and he’d nearly lost his mind when he saw kids his size slugging bags on their too small shoulders into the house. It was summer and Monica and Frank had taken off again leaving Fiona in charge. That usually was better than the alternative but it also meant that Lip no longer wanted to play with his little brother. He only wanted to help Fiona with things, running to the store for anything she needed and trying to help with dinner, and taking care of Carl and Debbie. He never let Ian help claiming it was only a job for a “big kid” and the two year age difference must’ve been pretty critical. So seeing kids his age who might not have a “big kid” size stuck up their ass made him ecstatic.
He tied on his shoes, a Gallagher trait that had to be learned early on with all the hand me down sneakers and headed across the street. There were three older boys even older than Lip and one of them maybe older than Fiona dragging boxes into the house where a little boy closer to Ian’s age was throwing a fit in the middle of the doorway.
“Why can’t I help bring in boxes?!”
One of the older boys merely nudged him out of the way with his foot so they could get through, passing him with a condescending snort.
“Because you couldn’t carry a fuckin’ feather without dropping it, and Dad would beat your ass. Go bake with Mom and Mandy or something.”
“Fuck you!” The little boy roared angrily turning and stomping down the sidewalk.
He had dark brown hair and bright blue eyes and a scowl etched deeply into the planes of his face. But Ian noticed as soon as he was away from the older boys, his brothers, it dropped immediately as if it’d been a mask the whole time. Underneath was something softer.
Ian followed after him. He found the boys anger unique and a little funny for some odd reason. Not to mention he just had nothing better to do, no one else wanted him around.
“Hi.”
The boy turned to let him taking in the noticeably squeaking high voice and the mask was back on.
“What do you want?”
Ian shrugged walking happily beside him. “I’m Ian Gallagher. You just moved in across from me.”
“Yea, so?”
“So wanna be friends?”
Mickey peered at him for a second before laughing in his face.
“Fuck off pip-squeak you’re just a little kid.”
“So are you! I heard your brothers say you couldn’t bring in boxes cause of it.”
Mickey turned on him then fixing Ian with an unimpressive glare and effectively stopping their walk.
“Call me a little kid again and I’ll beat you with a stick.”
He turned and kept walking as if that should’ve been the end of their meeting, of their existence in each other’s lives. But something Mickey would go on to learn about Ian Gallagher was that he didn’t really take no for an answer.
“Want me to show you where the park is? There’s a woods behind it it’s awesome.”
Mickey turned to stare at Ian like he was crazy but Ian was just smiling with his stupid freckles and orange curly hair.
“Ugh fine. Lead the way.” He sighed.
They spend the entire day at the park. Mickey found a huge stick that they took turns trying to lift. Then Ian found some worm in the dirt and Mickey dared him to pick it up, an when he did they started daring each other to do other stupid things. It was the funnest day of Ian’s whole life. Mickey was fun and tough and he only cussed when he was trying to be scary which seemed to be connected with his brothers so after a while he stopped cussing at Ian and relaxed. They just had fun. They ran around chasing each other and screaming at the top of their lungs. Everything was perfect.
And when the stun started to set they headed back home slowly together smelling of sweat and outdoors and boy with the earth caked under their fingernails from the woods.
“Wanna go back tomorrow?” Ian asked before Mickey could leave.
Mickey smiled. “Sure. When?”
“Early. We can spend the whole day there. Meet me outside after breakfast.”
“Yea okay see ya.”
Ian waved happily and disappeared back inside to tell Fiona all about his new friend.
Mickey and Ian spent the whole summer together. Usually it was in the woods behind the park building things out of decaying pieces of woods and making up games together. Sometimes when it was just too hot they’d go to Ian’s house and play in his room. They ate popsicles and built forts with blankets and chairs. Mickey would tell him scary stories and jump out of nowhere to scar him causing Ian to punch him which would inevitably lead to wrestling and tearing down their fort until they collapses crying with laughter. Soon enough Mickey became comfortable there until he was just kind of another presence in the Gallagher home.
Mickey never said it but Ian could tell he didn’t like his house too much. His brothers were mean and his mom spent all of her time with his little sister. He didn’t talk about his dad much, but sometimes when Ian went over to Mickey’s to ask him to play he would hear yelling and Mickey would come running out of the house. When he asked him about it Mickey just told him to drop it. They always met at Ian’s after that.
When school started Ian was terrified he wouldn’t get to see Mickey anymore. Mickey was two years older than him putting him in Lip’s grade. Then he went outside to the bus stop that first day and Mickey was leaning against the pole of the stop sign angrily yawning like the big grump he was in the morning. And Ian realized he’d at least get to sit with Mickey on the bus and it made him so happy. He finally had a friend to talk to even if it was only while they were waiting for the bus.
“Cheer up Mick school’ll be fun!” He smiled enthusiastically.
Mickey just snorted and shoved at Ian playfully causing both of them to laugh.
In the end Mickey’s way of looking at things wasn’t that far off base. First grade sucked. The other boys made fun of Ian for his freckles and his hair. He was pale and smiley and pure, traits that didn’t mess well in the Southside of Chicago where the dirtier you were the better. He didn’t look like Lip or Fiona something that even at five he was able to understand and worry about. Without his friend there it wasn’t worth because there was no one to take his mind off the bullies.
But every day at recess the first grades got to play recess with the rest of the kids and instead of following Lip around like he had the year before he had someone that actually wanted him around. Mickey.
One day when he was on his way to find Mickey in the sea of kids one of the kids from his class felt the need to embarrass him in front of his only friend. They called him things like carrot top and Chuckie from rugrats and talked about his family. Usually he found it interesting because they were all poor hence living on the Southside to begin with and the nicknames weren’t very cruel or creative, but he didn’t want Mickey to think he was a wimp or decide that he was still a little kid and not want to play with him anymore. So he hit the bully in the face and screamed at the top of his lungs not to fuck with Ian Gallagher(the language of the streets was already beginning to rub off on him). But the kid was bigger than him and he quickly got back up knocking his fist into Ian’s until he felt back with a whiny grunt.
Then it was a punch to his eyes and his cheek, the sharp pain of bone on bone scraping through his insides. It surprised Ian how badly it hurt. He’d seen Lip fight with neighborhood kids before, and even Fiona with some of the girls but they never seemed to hurt until afterwards with the adrenaline had faded from their veins. This was different. This sucked. He was about to put his hands up in a desperate attempt to cover his face when the pressure of his bully was gone and new pain filled cries were hitting the air. He opened his eyes to see that his bully was on the ground being pummeled in the face by none other than Mickey Milkovich.
All the kids stared on in horror as Mickey’s knuckles turned red, but Ian was smiling. It was kind of sadistic, sure, but for Ian it was the first time someone stuck up for him. It was the first time someone saw the burden on his shoulders and thought it was too much, thought he deserved some help for a change.
“Fuck with Gallagher again and I’ll kick your fucking dick in you hear me?!”
The bully started crying and ran off to tell a teacher leaving Mickey to turn back and help Ian off the ground as all the kids stared.
“You okay?” Mickey asked.
Ian found himself smiling through the blood and he wrapped his arm around Mickey’s shoulders as they were towed inside to the principal’s office. Mickey shrugged his arm off shoving Ian away which caused them both to chuckle. That day he sat in a chair with tissue shoved up his nose and his mom trying to get him out of trouble with her cleavage, but Ian was oblivious. He would remember the pain of Ronnie Polinski nearly breaking his nose, or the embarrassment when Monica and Frank got kicked out of the school. That day was the day Ian found his best friend. That day was the beginning of it all.
* * *
They liked to play monsters. In the darkness of Ian’s bedroom under this poorly constructed blanket forts. It was always a game. They would pretend to hear sounds and dive under pillows in fear of being eaten or ripped apart limb from limb. It always ended up in them laughing and getting caught up in the sheets. Ian didn’t know that Mickey had some monsters of his own, and that they weren’t the kind that had you laughing when they caught you.
When Ian looked out his window and saw Mickey crossing the street he quickly made his downstairs to meet him at the door. It was Friday so he knew they’d have the entire weekend to play. When he opened the door though, Mickey was standing there with tears leaving stained tracks along his cheeks. He looked sad angry and mad all at the same time. Ian felt a pang in his stomach at that. He didn’t like to see Mickey that way.
“Can I stay here?” Mickey mumbled not meeting his gaze.
Ian knew that Fiona was off somewhere looking after the baby and probably doing school work and Lip was nowhere to be found. Seeing as he often times didn’t know where his parents were they weren’t exactly the kind of family that asked if they could have sleepovers. Plus he could tell Mickey would want as little attention as possible.
Ian nodded. “Wanna go get in the fort of doom?”
He sniffled nodding jerkily in response.
They made their way to the safe confines of the bedroom Ian shared with Lip lying on the floor in their mounds of pillow where the darkness could fully encapsulate them. It was quiet for a while, nothing but the even sounds of their breathing in the air. Ian didn’t do too well with silence. He talked a lot to fill that void. Although Mickey usually would tell him to shut it he seemed content to let Ian talk.
“Sometimes I think my family doesn’t like me much. I mean Fiona takes care of us cause she gots too and Lip always used to be my friend. My daddy doesn’t like me much. He yells sometimes. I thought that maybe my mom loved me but Fiona says she’s crazy. Like real crazy with the crazy people hospitals? Sometimes her and my dad will come wake us up really late and we’ll go out to have fun. But they do bad things. They left me and Lip in a parking lot once and Fiona had to come find us. It’s weird. I don’t really feel like I’m ‘sposed to be here. But if I’m not ‘sposed to be with my family who am I ‘sposed to be with ya know?”
He didn’t make Mickey answer the questions he just kept talking thinking that maybe eventually he’d say something that would make Mickey feel better. He told him about his new baby brother and how everyone was so worried about him all the time that he kind of just fell to the wayside. He told him about how he and Lip use to spend all their time together. And the whole time Mickey just stared at him with his big blue eyes like he was taking everything in.
Later that night when they got ready for bed is when he say the marks. They were welts, long rectangular strips that tore into his back. Ian stared frustratingly at them unable to understand why anyone would try and hurt Mickey. Ian was young and less cynical than most. He’d yet to encounter how unfair the world could be sometimes. The marks on Mickey’s back that were surprisingly similar to the shape of a belt made him angry, so angry that tears started to pool in the young boy’s eyes.
“What happened to you Mickey?” He asked.
His voice cracked and Mickey could see how clearly upset he was. Instead of shoving him away and pretending that nothing had happened Mickey moved closer.
“My dad’s mean too.” He shrugged. “Your dad yells and gets drunk and disappears for a few days. My dad gets drunk and gets angry. Sometimes he hits us. I—I’m lucky really cause my brothers are bigger and they have to deal with his fists. I just get the belt ya know? It’s no big deal.”
“That’s not fair. H—He shouldn’t do that to you.”
“Yea well the world isn’t fair Gallagher.”
Ian continued to cry because surely the world couldn’t be that cruel. To give him a best friend, what he assumed had to be the greatest friend in all of the friends in the universe and then let that amazing friend get beaten was some sick joke. His beautiful pure mind just wanted a world where everyone was happy. Especially Mickey.
“Hey!” Mickey responded gruffly grabbing Ian by his shoulders. “You don’t cry alright? Crying is a sign of weakness. You let people see you cry then they know they can take you. You gotta keep your head up Ian it’s the only way to keep going.”
Ian’s lip trembled terribly. “I’m sorry he hits you Mick.”
Ian threw his arms around his best friend angry and sad and confused. In the Gallagher house he could afford a little naivety. Cause even when Monica and Frank were disappearing for days on end he had Fiona. He had Lip. Frank wasn’t nice but he didn’t beat his kids. Who was there to look after Mickey? If the monster was right in your own front door where could you run? Where was there left for you to hide?
Mickey, even at his young and fragile age, had had the Milkovich code of conduct instilled in him. You don’t cry. You don’t pussy out. You stand tall and you use your fists and you protect your family out of honor. He saw the redundancy in protecting a family that shit on you with words and fists and belts, but apparently Terry Milkovich did not. He couldn’t afford that young foolishness that he liked so much about Ian. It was about survival. It was about staying low and out of the way just to avoid a black eye. But with Ian he could be anything, he could do anything. Ian was a whole new world that Mickey hadn’t known existed. And now that he had it he’d do whatever he could to protect it. Whatever it took.
* * *
Monica took off on a Tuesday. Ian came home from school and everyone was yelling. Frank was drunk and mad and the second he walked in the door Fiona told him to leave. It wasn’t new that his dad liked to take his frustrations with his mother out on Ian. He was the most like her. He was light and happy and went with the flow in an almost mystical fashion just like her. As soon as he walked in the door he didn’t even have a chance. Frank lashed out and hit him hard enough for the skin to throb from the aftermath of the touch.
It was the first time he’d ever put hands on him and the only thing Ian could think of was his friend Mickey, and how Mickey had to put up with being hurt all the time. He wasn’t as strong as Mickey. Mickey was wonderful and brave and Ian felt incomparable. He was scared that would become the norm, that they would both have their scars that would eventually become bruises and bloody lips like his older brothers. So he ran to his only safe place where all the good memories now resided.
Fiona ran out calling for Ian to come back but he was already long gone. She turned back on her father giving him a rough shove that sent the drunk man clashing to the floor miraculously not spilling his beer.
“You made Ian run away! He’s only fucking five years old!” She screamed. “Don’t worry though I’ll go find him. I’ll go take care of everything while you sit there drunk off your ass like the worthless shit you are!”
Fiona was ten. Ten years old dealing with everything that her parents weren’t responsible enough to deal with. It wasn't fair. It sucked and it was hard but she did it. Because no one else would. Because someone had to care about her family even if it meant it had to be her.
So it was Fiona who dashed across the street to the Milkovich residence and pounded her fist against the door despite their quickly forming reputation as neighborhood scum. It was Fiona who shoved Mickey's older brother out the way like he was nothing to get to him, to tell him that she needed his help.
"Fuck off I ain't gotta help nobody." He sniffed at her.
He was standing in a bare of jeans that pooled over his feet they were so big, and a t-shirt with holes in it. His hair stuck up at the ends, and Fiona had a feeling his choice of product was dirt and grease. He was small and dirty and trying so hard to be this big bad angry guy that it made you feel sorry for him. You just wanted to tell him to give it a rest.
She looked around at all the people watching their conversation. His older brothers all stood in similar stances with their arms crossed and sneers plastered across their faces. And at the head of it was the biggest one of them all. An angry looking man who looked as if he'd glared so long that his face had just kind of frozen that way watched the whole ordeal. It was as if Mickey was under inspection. This was his chance to show out, prove himself to be just as terrible as all the others. But Fiona didn't have time. Ian was missing.
"It's Ian." She murmured eyes wild and scared. "He's missing I have to find him."
His whole charade froze then as her words settled over him like a fog, thick and hazy. Ian was missing. There was no time to think or explain to his family why the freckly kid from next door with a clown wig for hair was so important. That was his best friend, so he went.
They both heard his father yell after him as he threw himself towards the door. He winced pulling Fiona with him. He knew what was waiting for him when he got home so he tried to focus on the present.
"Do you know where he might be?" Fiona asked as they dashed down the street.
"The park. We like to go to the park."
They ran faster than he'd ever moved in his whole life. Faster than when he was running from his own dad. Faster than when they'd dashed through the roads together. It was an act of desperation. He needed to get to Ian and know he was okay. Ian was the only one that cared about Mickey. Ian was the only one that understood.
Ian was sitting in the cave he and Mickey had built together. It was really just planks of wood they'd found held up by big sticks and he was sitting in the dirt with his knees pulled up to his chest crying. He was scared and hurt and alone. He'd thought that the cave would protect him from the pain and make him feel better, but he quickly realized that it wasn't the same without Mickey. What made the fort special was having Mickey there with him.
"Ian?"
Ian looked up startled shoving himself farther back until his back touched one of the wooden beams.
Mickey's head quickly ducked inside and those blue eyes met his.
"It's just me." He said softly. "And your sister. It's okay."
Ian shook his head arms wrapped around himself as he rocked back and forth with tears rolling over his cheeks.
"He h—hit me Mick. I—I was scared and I didn't know where to go. I didn't . . . I—I..."
"Hey it's alright. I promise, it's okay."
Mickey took a seat at the mouth of their mini cave looking over his tiny friend. He was just a little ball of pale skin and freckles and the bruise on his cheek had already turned a deep purple. He might've only been two years older than Ian but in that moment he felt like they were years and years apart, as if he was looking at some younger version of himself. It reminded him of the first time he'd gotten a taste of dad's rage. How bad it hurt. How scared he'd been. He didn't wish that on his worst enemy. And for Ian? It just made him angry that he even got a taste of what that felt like.
"You gotta go home Ian." He explained.
Ian shook his head hastily. "No I just wanna stay here. With you."
"Why'd you wanna stay with dumb ole me anyway. I'm not that fun."
"You're my best friend Mickey." Ian insisted with undoubtable devotion.
Mickey's eyes widened softly at that. He'd never had a friend before let alone a best one. And once Ian said it was just so. They were best friends. They told each other everything. They were there for each other no matter what consequences that might bring. It was Mickey and Ian against the world. He hadn't known he could care about a person like that. The even more surprising part was that there was person in the world that cared about him, that wanted him around.
"Alright. I'm your best friend. So you should trust me right?" He asked.
Ian nodded softly. "Yea I guess so."
"Then trust me. You gotta go back home. I mean you don't even got any snacks. And whose gonna help with Debbie and Carl if you're not there? And our fort! Ian our fort is sitting there all by itself and it could collapse at any second if you're not there to take care of it. See? We gotta go back."
Ian managed a small smile through his hiccups and sniffles.
"It's the fort of doom Mick it wouldn't collapse." He insisted.
Mickey shrugged. "Yea maybe, maybe not though. You willing to take that chance? I bet Batman wouldn't."
Ian stared at him for a second judging whether or not he should leave the seemingly safe confines of his cave. In the end Mickey reached out his hand for Ian's and he couldn't refuse. He'd do just about anything Mickey asked him to.
The second Ian was out from under the cave Fiona was grabbing him up off the ground and practically squeezing him to death. Her fingers were in his hair, lips pressing sharp, quick kisses on every visible surface of his skin especially on the bruise.
"I'm so sorry sweetface. I'm so sorry he did that to you." She sighed into his ear.
And there in the protection of Fiona's arms with his best friend right beside him Ian felt safe. He felt okay again.
They walked home together Fiona carrying her little brother in her arms. Ian had his head on her shoulder and his arm was reached out grasping lightly onto Mickey's hand. He fell asleep that way, allowing himself to curl into that safety.
Eventually after the sun had melted into drippy liquid in the sky they came to the divide between their two houses. Fiona gave Mickey a huge smile as he detangled his fingers from Ian's. Something about her told him he didn't have to be defensive with her. Fiona wasn't the enemy.
"Thank you for helping me find him. I really appreciate it."
He shrugged. "No biggie. Somebody's gotta keep track of him a carnival might come by and mistake him for a freckly clown." He muttered.
Fiona snorted. "Yea okay. Monica disappeared so things are gonna be a little hectic I think. You can come by tomorrow, keep Ian company if you want."
"okay." He said softly.
"Bye Mickey."
"Bye Fiona."
He nodded in their direction before towing himself towards his house. It was hard to believe his feet had ever touched the ground because Mickey was surely soaring. He had helped someone. He did something important. He found Ian and brought him back home and everything was okay because Mickey had been there. It was the first time in his whole life that he actually felt needed and God was it a good feeling.
"Did you find your friend?"
Mickey looked over where his dad was sitting at the kitchen table, his belt resting lightly in front of him. And just like that Mickey collided face first with the ground as if his cloud had been snatched from directly underneath him. He was falling hard and his father was gonna make sure he felt the impact.
"Y—Yea. He was just at the park. No biggie."
"Good." Terry nodded fingers twitching in anticipation.
Mickey's eyes traveled to the door as the mental math began to kick in. About ten seconds to make it to the stairs. Another thirteen to get to the top and twenty max to find an adequate hiding spot. Terry's eyes were boring into him like he was his prey, like he was a target.
"Don't run. It only makes it so much worse when you run." He murmured.
And then they were both up Terry growling and Mickey crying out in fear as the table stumbled over from his Father's aggression. Terry was overweight and unfit, but Mickey's legs were still small as he awaited his growth spurt. It let him tumbling up the stairs with his father close behind. He would catch him; he always did, and it would be bad. The problem, the main difference between Mickey and his brothers, was that he was a fighter. Maybe that's why his dad seemed to love him and resent him more than the others all the same time. He was exactly the thing Terry had never been, the thing Terry had taken the same punches and hits for.
The belt caught him in the face that time, rupturing one of the blood vessels in his eye. Later when his mother took him to the clinic they would call it a subconjunctival hemorrhage, and the doctor would ignore the red mark that so clearly was the indent of a belt because it was the Southside. And the next day when he saw Ian they didn't need to speak or feel sorry for each other. They both had pretty shitty lives, but they had each other. Best friends forever right?