I know I can't heal things with a hand shake
ian/mickey, 657 words.
ogni tanto mi prendo una pausa dall'RPF e non so perché finisco sempre a scrivere Mickey che si dispera. Forse è meglio che rimango sull'RPF. Sono molto ottimista per la s4, insomma!
scritta per l'ultima settimana del COWT3.5 (sigh!), prompt guerra.
Mickey is not sure if what scares him the most is the war going on inside himself or the one Ian is going to go soon.
He never paid attention to the news on television, he never actually watched it or listened to the radio, but he suddenly finds himself listening to the ones coming from Iraq and Afghanistan and listens to how many soldiers die every day there, even though they keep on saying there's no war going on, but he thinks, it doesn't care what you call it, people are fucking dying anyway. They won't die happily if they think it's not a war and their parents and loved ones won't feel fucking better. He rants about it with Mandy one day, while they walk around the neighborhood.
He wants to let go of Ian but at the same time he doesn't want to. Feelings are fighting inside him like American soldiers against Viet Cong back in the Sixties.
The baby is going to be born soon. Ian was his only escape from his shitty life and now Mickey doesn't have anyone who helps him get away from it, he just has duties and duties and a wife he hates because anytime he looks at her he thinks of Ian's face, that day, when he had to fuck her in front of him, and his dad treating him like shit and so he tries to write to Ian.
Mickey thought that writing was useless. Mickey thought that anything not related to beating or shooting people wasn't interesting, really, but now he finds himself sitting on the sofa, a piece of paper on his lap and a pen in his right hand. Mandy gave him the idea one day. She said, if you cannot say it at least try to write how you feel. And so he tries. He asks Mandy, do you think he's going to get it somehow? She doesn't know, of course, she doesn't know any better than him. She only wishes that Mickey could convince his friend to come back. Do you believe I can convince him better than you, he says, and Mandy nods. I can't believe I haven't seen it before, she says.
He writes I wish I could've told you that day. It takes him a few more days to write something else.
I don't know why you did it, but everyone is hurting because of you, he writes. He thinks of Lip coming over and asking him and Mandy if they knew something. He thinks of Lip punching him. Mickey deserved it. It physically doesn't hurt anymore but it does inside of him. A wound it will never heal completely.
It's not as easy as you told me it would have been, he complains to his sister. She says, you should stop pretending you don't care about people. This is the first step.
He writes a few other sentences over the next week while he listens to the news on the radio. They don't even know where Ian is, exactly, anyway. He could still be in the USA, as far as they know.
When he finally writes I miss you, you shouldn't have left in the first place, he cries again like he did the day Ian left. Mandy hugs him, this time. I miss you, he writes again, and he wants to add something like, you were the only one who made my life decent. It doesn't feel right to Mandy, somehow, so he doesn't write that.
He doesn't manage to write those three words, he can't even think of those three words, let alone write them down, he can't do it. That would change everything, if he could admit it. He thinks of the day Ian begged him to admit it just once. Writing it down would be easier than saying it out loud. He can't. The old Mickey Milkovich has won the war again.
ogni tanto mi prendo una pausa dall'RPF e non so perché finisco sempre a scrivere Mickey che si dispera. Forse è meglio che rimango sull'RPF. Sono molto ottimista per la s4, insomma!
scritta per l'ultima settimana del COWT3.5 (sigh!), prompt guerra.
Mickey is not sure if what scares him the most is the war going on inside himself or the one Ian is going to go soon.
He never paid attention to the news on television, he never actually watched it or listened to the radio, but he suddenly finds himself listening to the ones coming from Iraq and Afghanistan and listens to how many soldiers die every day there, even though they keep on saying there's no war going on, but he thinks, it doesn't care what you call it, people are fucking dying anyway. They won't die happily if they think it's not a war and their parents and loved ones won't feel fucking better. He rants about it with Mandy one day, while they walk around the neighborhood.
He wants to let go of Ian but at the same time he doesn't want to. Feelings are fighting inside him like American soldiers against Viet Cong back in the Sixties.
The baby is going to be born soon. Ian was his only escape from his shitty life and now Mickey doesn't have anyone who helps him get away from it, he just has duties and duties and a wife he hates because anytime he looks at her he thinks of Ian's face, that day, when he had to fuck her in front of him, and his dad treating him like shit and so he tries to write to Ian.
Mickey thought that writing was useless. Mickey thought that anything not related to beating or shooting people wasn't interesting, really, but now he finds himself sitting on the sofa, a piece of paper on his lap and a pen in his right hand. Mandy gave him the idea one day. She said, if you cannot say it at least try to write how you feel. And so he tries. He asks Mandy, do you think he's going to get it somehow? She doesn't know, of course, she doesn't know any better than him. She only wishes that Mickey could convince his friend to come back. Do you believe I can convince him better than you, he says, and Mandy nods. I can't believe I haven't seen it before, she says.
He writes I wish I could've told you that day. It takes him a few more days to write something else.
I don't know why you did it, but everyone is hurting because of you, he writes. He thinks of Lip coming over and asking him and Mandy if they knew something. He thinks of Lip punching him. Mickey deserved it. It physically doesn't hurt anymore but it does inside of him. A wound it will never heal completely.
It's not as easy as you told me it would have been, he complains to his sister. She says, you should stop pretending you don't care about people. This is the first step.
He writes a few other sentences over the next week while he listens to the news on the radio. They don't even know where Ian is, exactly, anyway. He could still be in the USA, as far as they know.
When he finally writes I miss you, you shouldn't have left in the first place, he cries again like he did the day Ian left. Mandy hugs him, this time. I miss you, he writes again, and he wants to add something like, you were the only one who made my life decent. It doesn't feel right to Mandy, somehow, so he doesn't write that.
He doesn't manage to write those three words, he can't even think of those three words, let alone write them down, he can't do it. That would change everything, if he could admit it. He thinks of the day Ian begged him to admit it just once. Writing it down would be easier than saying it out loud. He can't. The old Mickey Milkovich has won the war again.