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emachinescat · 4 years ago

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I've decided to watch MacGyver from the beginning (again), and I'm live tweeting the experience with every tweet tagged with #savemacgyver. I thought it would be fun to share my collected thoughts from the episodes on here as well.

My Thoughts on S1E2, "Metal Saw"

Seriously love the music in this show!

THE FREAKING BELT GRAB. You can tell they've done this kind of thing before.

I always love it when Jack and Mac have heart-to-hearts in the middle of super intense, dangerous situations. Like... it's sweet, but time and place, guys?

"Hi, I'm Jack." Nervous Jack is bebby.

Ew, sweat. Like, I know it's "realism" to have sweat stains on clothes in situations like these, but that's one bit of realism I can always do without. Gross.

Is that a bit of PTSD I'm seeing with Mac there on the couch? That's a kind of realism I can always get behind.

Riley finding Mac and Boze in that compromising position will never not be funny. "But he was on top." I love Riley more every episode.

Riley is a really good liar from day one.

I love the joke about ex-cons benefiting from being in relationships with stable people (i.e., fake boyfriend Bozer), then the immediate cut to Bozer with his whole arm inside the vending machine. Great stuff.

Love the Riley and Bozer bonding... right up until the cringe-tastic "Slide me your digits."

"Soon, I'm gonna woo you the same way Romeo would have wooed Juliet if they had Snapchat back in the Renaissance." Bozer and his surprisingly accurate pickup lines. The Renaissance did in fact start in Italy around the 14th century, when R&J is thought to take place.

I love all this psychoanalyzing of Mac. "Adapting is his survival mechanism." Also I'm living for Jack sticking up for Mac to Patti.

"This place has been searched by everybody and their dog." Is this a Texas thing or an old guy saying? Either way it's great.

Nothing beats the early days of Mac and Jack. Nothing. I wish we had gotten more interactions where Jack has to parent Mac: "Stop touching that. Look at me." ❤️❤️❤️

Jack so concerned about Mac and putting on the kid gloves = everything I could have ever asked for and more.

Jack has such a big heart. Poor guy, the look on his face when he sees that the reporter is actually Sarah...

Paperclip sculptures: When I first started watching the show, I thought they were lame. Now I miss them so much. Does that mean I've gotten lamer or that they were always cool and I was always lame?

"Closest time I ever came to coming home in a box." Oof. This line hits different now, and not in a good way.

I just love how Jack is this big tough ex-Delta who is so open about his emotions, particularly with Mac. And the way Mac reassures him... Their bromance is top-tier.

"Oh, like when they invented fire!" Another zinger.

Mac grabbing that giant cigar right out of that dude's mouth 😂😂😂

Love some good fight-scene Mac whump! 👏👏👏 And bar fights are always a blast!

Riley with the car door - such a boss. "What? You told me to stay in the car, and I did."

I've seen some people say they don't like S1 Mac's hair. I kind of dig it, to be honest. He looks like he's 5, but I love it.

Mac has made a lot of DIY cutting torches in his time, but they never get less impressive.

Jack trusting Mac to save Sarah while he keeps watch is just *chef's kiss*!

These early episodes have so many MacGyverisms. One right after the other. It's awesome.

I've never been a big fan of the dark either, Mac.

The first scene with Mac and Sarah is so beautifully tense and whumpy (he way he scrabbles for purchase, gasps for breath, that hitch in his voice as he tries to squeak out Jack's name) that I had to rewind and watch it again.

The hopeful disbelief in her voice: "Jack Dalton came for me?"

Sarah can kick some serious ass. I can see why Jack likes her. Too bad she's about to lead him on the rest of the episode, while actually having a fiance...

Sarah: *leans out of car, shooting her weapon with deadly, terrifying precision* Riley: I agree, this woman should not have kids. 😂 Everything that comes out of Riley's mouth is gold.

Riley asleep in the back of the car while Mac sits quietly and Jack and Sarah have a sweet moment is like mom and dad with the kids in the backseat. Except mom has a fiance and hasn't told dad yet, even though she's had ample opportunity.

Because seriously, Sarah. It's not that hard to tell him the truth. Giving him those big eyes and flirting with him, thinking he has a chance is just cruel. I have never liked her character, and this is why.

Mac and Jack giggling about Jack's crush on Sarah like middle-school girls is life.

"You're just gonna have to let that go." Man, I love their relationship.

Gosh, the scene where they find Luis always hurts so badly. These early episodes did not play around.

"There isn't always time to beg some suit back home for permission to do what's right." I'm not a fan of Sarah, but I love this line. Also, this is pretty much the synopsis of the whole show.

Riley's hair used to be so LONG! 😍

The loyalty of these three! And I love the OG trio so much.

This sleazy guy in the computer place makes my skin crawl.

Love how Patti's like, "Mac will be back by then." Not Jack, not Riley. Just Mac. Can we say teacher's pet? I actually lowkey love this though.

"Who is this guy?" Much like Doctor Who's "It's bigger on the inside," I never get tired of people being equally amazed and confused at the stuff Mac can do.

I've never been the biggest car chase junkie, but Barrios jumping over the car using that log in the road is pretty dope.

Sarah's rage is chilling. And Jack talking her down breaks me every time.

Again, I love the loyalty of our team. Everyone sticks up for each other, ending with Mac's totally unbelievable but still somehow 100% genuine "It was me. I forced them." TOO good.

First mention of Oversight this early. Just thinking about who it is that doesn't like unsanctioned ops just makes me 😤 I wonder if the writers knew who OS was at this point or if it was a later development.

I do wish we could have gotten more conspiratorial, approving Patti. She's so much better than expressionless, bland Patti.

The way Sarah never told Jack about her fiance Jeff (who is in fact a cinnamon roll but still a discount Jack) pisses me off. "I tried to tell you." Yeah, right. It's not that hard to say, "Yo, I'm in a relationship."

Jack NEVER should have found out about Jeff the way he did. There's no excuse.

It's not okay, Jack. She did you wrong. You didn't deserve that. Stand up for yourself, man. Gosh, he's so broken here, and I hate it.

"At least we have each other... Don't look at me. I know how weird it sounded." THESE TWO I SWEAR 🤣🤣🤣

Poor Mac. I do love how we get his obsessive tendencies so early in the show, and how they keep coming back, even as late as season 5. As someone with clinically diagnosed OCD, this makes me feel seen and I love being able to relate to my favorite character.

Love the found family antics at the end. Riley and Bozer making dinner while Mac and Jack play basketball? Perfection.

Lol, Bozer calling Riley a "caramel goddess" has such Schmidt/Cece vibes from New Girl, and I dig it!

Ew. More sweat. I know some people find sweaty men attractive, but that is NOT my vibe. I prefer my men clean and freshly laundered.

The way Riley glances back over her shoulder at them as she walks away, as if to make sure they're really there, that this is actually real!!!

"That's not even... that's true, actually. That's sad." Jack 🤣 Also, "I'm hungry." Big mood.

As a Grandpa Harry stan from the OG show, I eat up any mention of him in the new one. I just wish we'd gotten more of that wonderful man in the reboot. Still, I'll take what I can get!

I'd honestly forgotten how much I enjoy this episode! So solid, full of bromance, found family, and lots of good-natured bickering. Can't wait to watch the next one, hopefully tomorrow! In the meantime, please keep fighting for our show! Together we can #savemacgyver!

If anyone wants to join me in my re-watching and tweeting adventure, please do! It's my way to take about an hour a day in my busy, busy life to commit to the #savemacgyver movement. (And to enjoy my favorite show yet again!) If you do tweet as you watch, make sure to tag EVERY tweet with ONLY #savemacgyver so we can keep that hashtag trending! :)

Thanks for letting me share my (numerous) thoughts on this episode. This was really fun, and I hope it's something you all enjoy, too. I'd love to know what you all think of the episode in the comments! ❤️

#macgyver #jack dalton #riley davis #wilt bozer #macgyver rewatch #my thoughts #episode review #save macgyver #we can still save our show #s1e2 #metal saw #emcatreviews #spoilers

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bcntnotbrokcn · 6 years ago

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THREAD 1

Estimated ages: Mickey, 22. Ian, 20. Brief synopsis: Ian has issues dealing with Monica’s death. Even though he hasn’t spoken to Mickey in nearly two years -- he’s still at the top of his emergency contact list. Mickey wastes no time in running to Ian’s aide. Triggers: Suicidal thoughts, depression, guns.

IAN GALLAGHER

Truth be told, his heart hurt. He felt like it was being shattered into a million different pieces and he couldn’t seem to put it back together again. His lungs were unable to grasp for the air they so desperately needed, his head unable to silence itself as he sat there, a gun in his hand and horrid thoughts going through his head of what to do with his weapon of choice. Tears stung his eyes before they flowed down his cheeks, his face red and blotchy from crying. His shoulders shook with silent sobs of angst and misery, unable to calm himself down. Or, rather, pick himself up from his low low.

Ian Gallagher had lows in the past. Heck, he had spent days upon days in bed, refusing to get up and refusing to care for himself as the chemicals in his brain refused to work right. Even after he was stabilized on his medication, things still had a way of getting to him sometimes, and he still got depressed and manic. He couldn’t help it, it’s just the way things were. It’s just how his life was. Fucked up. No good.

Monica’s death hadn’t really affected the other Gallagher children like it did him. But Ian? For some reason, he had started to become close to her. She was never there growing up, never around when any of the kids needed her. She came in and out like a hurricane, leaving only pure destruction and heartache in her path. But since his diagnosis, Ian had felt a special bond towards his mother. Maybe she didn’t want to be on medication -- and for that, he understood, because sometimes it caused him to lose who he was, too -- but she was the only one who understood him. The only one who knew what he was going through. And not having her there anymore -- it left a hole in his heart that he was finding impossible to fill again.

Ian stared down at his phone, gripping it tightly as his other hand gripped the gun like it was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. Like if he set it down, it would vanish, and he would lose the only source of faux comfort that he could find in his time of need. He wanted to use it so badly, to just end the pain that his heart, body, mind, and his soul were in. Monica’s death had triggered an episode, and he couldn’t seem to find the light in the darkness that was currently enveloping him.

But Fiona, Lip... Debbie and Carl and Liam... even Frank, maybe... how would they all react if Ian took the step he most certainly wanted to take? How would it all affect them? How could he do that to his family? But they just didn’t understand. No one understood, not now that Monica was gone. No one knew what was going on in his head. No one could fix him.

But maybe... Maybe there was someone who could maybe bring a little light. Sure, it was a selfish move. An asshole move. Ian had treated him like trash, had broken his heart and caused him so much pain and stress over the years. He didn’t owe Ian anything. But maybe, just maybe, he could be the one thing that made it all hurt a little less.

Ian stared at his emergency list, the list of people he should contact if he ever felt too low. It hadn’t been really updated in years, never needing to be changed -- so when he initially opened the file on his phone, and Mickey was the first name on that list -- it broke Ian even more. Mickey deserved better than him. But what other time could Ian be selfish and call his ex, if not now? When he was on the brink of ending his own life?

Finally, Ian found Mickey’s contact, quickly pushing the button to text him. He wanted to call, but he had an inkling that Mickey wouldn’t answer. Not after how Ian treated him. And honestly, Ian wouldn’t have blamed him. So he quickly wrote out a text, his phone shaking as he let out another sob.

i kno you dont owe me shit but ur the first name on my emergency list & i fukn need u Mick

plz. im under the train tracks near my house & i fukn need u

Before he could change his mind, Ian quickly pressed ‘send,’ before setting his phone down next to him. He gripped the gun tighter, holding it close to his chest as he closed his eyes against the onslaught of tears that threatened to envelope his whole being.

MICKEY MILKOVICH

I FUCKING NEED YOU, MICK. re - reads to be sure it’s from ian , heart picking up it’s pace despite best judgement , while the tv continues blabbering to the walls , long forgotten . the word ‘ emergency ’ sticks , and mickey doesn’t even consider pretending to not have seen it , body responding to the text before brain can catch up , pulling on battered sneakers . it’s been forever since they've last spoken , though the memory of it still stings . wonders if it will ever stop hurting , if he’ll be able to leave the past in the past at some point . ( he won’t . ) has long given up understanding why ian affects him so deeply , why his stupid heart can’t just let it go . maybe having ian’s name etched in dark ink onto alabaster skin doesn’t help but certain decisions you can only regret .

half - way out of the door into the cold weather , shrugging on a jacket that’s too big to be his ( probably colin’s ) , thinks that he shouldn’t go running , not after everything . one text , he should be better than that , humiliate himself less ; but can’t help it , not when worry fills his head and puts a weight in his stomach that can’t just shake off . this is important , he knows it is , or ian wouldn’t have texted , not like that . I FUCKING NEED YOU . words are carved in mind’s eye though phone is safely tucked in jeans’ pocket . remembers when ian knocked on his door , distraught and desperate , I NEEDED TO SEE YOU , and how his stomach twisted and fell , and immediately found himself making up some bullshit excuse to terry just to meet the freckled idiot at the kash & grab . remembers the way his heart stopped when they were caught , the sharp pain of being shot in the leg , and that he’d do it all over again . so , he runs .

knows the way by heart, chilly air burning blackened lungs , but only stops at the spot of orange in his line of sight , still far away enough to turn around and leave , unnoticed . mickey feels like a fucking idiot . he shouldn’t even have ian’s phone number still saved on old cellphone , let alone drop everything at the blink of an eye just because , suddenly , ian needs him . where was he when mickey needed him ? the two times in his life that mickey could have used some support , ian hadn’t been there . yet , here he is , aching to close that distance , and set things right .

only notices that his feet are inching towards the boy when eyes can make sense of what he’s holding . once again , any doubt if he should have come or not is pushed to the background , and speed picks up again . heart slams on his throat when he finally speaks . ❛ hey , ❜ it’s meant to be louder , clearer , but chokes at the last second , at last coming to a definite stop , much closer to the screeching train roaring above them . waits for it to go away before trying again . ❛ got your message , ❜ no shit , sherlock , ❛ —— what’s wrong ? ❜

IAN GALLAGHER

He’s not coming. He’s not fucking coming and there’s no one else on my list I want to talk to about this. He’s not coming. He’s not fucking coming. The words were replaying in Ian’s mind, his heart hammering in his chest as he choked out another sob. He didn’t blame Mickey, not one bit. Ian had treated him like garbage over the years, had abandoned him more times than Ian cared to admit. Why would he care about what happened to him, anyway? He shouldn’t. Ian wasn’t anything special.

But Ian would be damned if there wasn’t a day that went by that Mickey didn’t cross his mind. He felt terrible for not replying to that one text long ago, or never visiting him in jail. That he just cut Mickey out of his life. But once he was stabilized on his meds, he couldn’t ignore the obvious: he was toxic for Mickey. In the same way that Monica was always toxic for Frank. Once he had discovered that realization, he knew Mickey was too good for him, and that he loved him too much to continue hurting him. Like Monica hurt Frank all the fucking time. Mickey just deserved so much more.

Ian clutched the handle of the gun impossibly tighter, his mind made up. He was about to inch it up higher, when he suddenly heard a voice, footsteps approaching. Ian peeled his eyes open, landing on the sight of his ex. Got your message. What’s wrong? He came. He actually fucking came.

And that thought just caused Ian to start crying even harder. Mickey came for him. This was a perfect example of just why Mickey was too good for Ian. All the shit Ian had put him through, and Mickey had actually came for him.

“Sh-She’s dead,” he finally managed to choke out. “And now I have -- no one, Mick. She was the only one who understood me and now she’s fucking gone. And I can’t -- I can’t fucking think anymore. It all --” He shut his eyes tightly again, holding the gun in one hand as he brought up both to rest against his head. “I don’t -- I can’t -- I don’t want to be here anymore. It all hurts.”

MICKEY MILKOVICH

the lead up is not the best, eyeing the gun with wariness . it takes him a moment to follow ; as the speech continues , however , he understands . in frequent visits to neighborhood’s bars , he hears things , though the name gallagher on someone else’s tongue seems to stick out more than random gossip . the memory is fuzzy , with too much alcohol tainting blood when somebody mentions monica gallagher being back . it fits , remembers ian saying that he had been with his mother right before outright denying to accept his meds , right before mickey was arrested .

in a weird way, she was the support mickey couldn’t be when ian had needed it most . he thinks that she understands because she has the same diagnosis , and no one can argue with that because no one else understands . wishes that he could , if only to ease ian’s pain , make him see monica is not worth the hurt and misery left behind , that monica brought him nothing but a shadow to hide under . can’t say it , though , but thinks .

❛ you—— you mean monica, right? ❜ asks , unsure what else he can say . what a shitty emergency contact he is . ❛ you don’t need her , ian . you just—– just fuckin’ don’t . your family is tryin’ to understand , right ? they wanna help you , they’re here for you . ❜ i’m here for you . sniffs , earnest blues that had been focusing on a spot on the redhead’s shoulder courageously moving to meet greens . hesitation brims from each word , unspoken fear creeping up his spine despite attempting to hide it . ❛ it’s not like you don’t have anybody . ‘course it’s not the same or anythin’ , but we’re tryin’ . they’re tryin’ . not like your mom was doin’ fuck all to really help you anyway . ❜ takes a step closer , trying to gulp around the knot in his throat.

wants nothing more than to reach out. and wipe his tears , hold him until that stupid idea is out of his mind , until the pain becomes more bearable . but can’t move , frozen in place , never in his life so aware of a gun and how close to someone’s head it rests . doesn’t want to startle ian , or say the wrong thing . it kills him to see the shell of the boy he loves breaking , thinks he can feel ian’s hurt as his own . wants to comfort , to make it better , but where to start ? mickey isn’t good at that , own chest heavy with settling panic . ❛ c’mon , man , be careful with that . you don’t need the fuckin’ gun , ❜ he’s never been scared of guns , or of seeing people die . growing up around both , knew how to shoot before he even knew how to tie his own shoes . but now it terrifies him , doesn’t know what he’d do if ian decided to use it ; the mere thought has bitter bile rising .

IAN GALLAGHER

Of course his family was trying to understand, trying to help him. But saying that Monica didn’t... Ian didn’t accept that. Monica helped him more than anyone else had, he was sure of it. Maybe she didn’t think he needed his meds, maybe she thought he was perfectly okay just the way he was. And yes, he disagreed with that. It took a while, and lots of talks with his family members -- but he finally understood that what Monica had been originally saying was false. He wasn’t better off without his medication. Not by a long shot.

But that didn’t erase the fact that whenever he was feeling low, or having a rough go of it, she was just a phone call away. She listened to his fears, helped him calm down when it seemed that no one else could. Because no one else understood like she did. No one else knew what he was really going through. So no, Monica wasn’t always helpful. But she knew what it was like. She was living with it, too.

Ian looked away from Mickey after those words about his mother, what Mickey thought of her sending a sting through Ian’s heart. She was dead, didn’t she deserve more respect than that? Fiona didn’t think so, he was pretty sure no one else did, either. But Ian -- he loved his mother. More than she deserved, but he did.

When Mickey mentioned the gun, Ian furrowed his brow in slight confusion, before finally bringing his hand in front of him, staring at the weapon. He had forgotten that he was holding that, honestly. And now that he remembered -- he didn’t want it. He wanted nothing to do with it. He didn’t want to deal with the pain he was in, but he couldn’t be selfish like that -- he had already been selfish far too much in his life.

But if I give it up, the threat is gone. He’ll leave. I can’t - I can’t be alone. Ian closed his eyes tightly, his heart squeezing in his chest. “I’m on my meds, Mick. I swear I’m on my meds. So I don’t -- I don’t know why my head is this way. Why -- why everything just seems so fucking hopeless.” He continued to stare down at the gun, before finally taking a careful, hesitant step forward. His knees felt like they were going to give out from under him, like he was just going to fall to the ground and never, ever be able to figure out how to get himself back up.

A few more hesitant, slow steps. His movements took the better part of a couple minutes. Part of him wanted to run, get away, deal with his pain himself. But another part of him -- a stronger part, maybe -- wanted to feel whole again. And really, he couldn’t feel whole if he wasn’t there to feel it.

Finally, Ian stood in front of Mickey, inches away from him. His eyes never left the gun during his trek, and he slowly held it out, surrendering the weapon to his ex-boyfriend. “Please -- please don’t leave,” he whispered, his voice cracking, his emotions s l o w l y breaking him one piece at a time. His eyes finally looked away from the object, and at Mickey once again. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

MICKEY MILKOVICH

this, for a long time, had been mickey’s worse nightmare . when ian first started showing signs of the disease’s low lows , and all that mental health talk , that he never had to pay attention to before ian , started , no matter who was talking about it , suicide’s imminent threat always found it’s way into the speech . when the woman at the clinic told ian about having a suicide list , mickey’s stomach fell and he feared the day ian might need it . and now , even after he falsely convinced himself that ian is past and nothing else , that day has come and it still fucking hurts , way more than he could ever have imagined .

❛ hey, it’s okay, ❜ rushes to say , head spinning with the speed of his heart . sounds too much like the worried boyfriend he once was , and that didn’t turn out very well in the end , hardly thinks it would help now . teeth sink onto bottom lip , licking the sting away as he carefully watches ian move . ❛ it’s okay to feel hopeless sometimes , ❜ it’s less patronizing this time , and it feels better to say it . ❛ everybody does . you lost someone you care about , ian , you’re allowed to feel fuckin’ sad . just don’t want you t’ do anything stupid . ❜ though he can’t relate ( when his own mother died , nobody really saw it coming but nobody was surprised either , life went on like nothing happened and nobody shed a tear, ) , knows that grief affects even the strongest of men , not even psych meds can fight it off .

though ian doesn’t look away from the gun, mickey’s eyes are glued to the redhead , fear and anticipation making fingertips turn cold . only realizes that he’s been holding his breath when they’re inches apart , and the gun is safely in his hands . glares at it , relief washing over his body in a wave so powerful that he almost sways , gripping metal with unnecessary strength while checking the safety , before tucking it in the back of his jeans .

looks up, however, at ian’s broken whisper. and can’t help it , not without the threat of the gun between them , cups his face with ‘ fuck ’ adorned hand , wiping some of the moisture away with his thumb . it becomes too intimate too fast , and he feels a little like a twelve year old girl , with his heart pounding , and how he himself feels like crying now , so it falls from where it rests on pale skin to a clothed shoulder . not fully breaking contact for purely selfish reasons , like he needs to make sure ian is still there .

❛ i’m not goin’ anywhere, ❜ promises , no hesitation in his stance . can’t even recall the last thing ian asked of him that he didn’t promptly deliver . and it’s not something that he is proud of , mind you . when he’s alone and the memories start their haunting , he hates that ian brings that trait off him , hates that ian could ask him the stars that he’d find a way to reach them . it’s stupid , childish even , but it doesn’t even cross his mind right then . it’s easy to forget these silly things amidst crisis , or at an unlikely reunion . ❛ ‘m not leavin’ , i’m here . okay ? don’t worry , i’m not leavin’ you alone like this . c’mon . ❜

IAN GALLAGHER

Ian’s heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when Mickey put his hand on his face, running his thumb across his freckled skin. After two years, he still couldn’t make his heart forget the love that he felt for the older male. It had always been Mickey, honestly. Back in high school, and more recently. Whenever Ian tried to have a relationship with other guys in the past two years, it never worked out. Simply because they just weren’t Mickey.

When Mickey said that he wasn’t leaving, Ian felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was sure that once the threat was gone, once Mickey had the gun in hand, that he would leave. He’d feel like Ian’s life was no longer in danger and would take that to mean his duty was over. But he was staying.

“Thank you,” Ian said softly, and attempted to manage a smile, but it fell flat. His heart still hurt, his head still unable to process anything. He couldn’t find the joy in his soul to be able to be really happy. Even though, somewhere deep inside, he was. He was happy that Mickey was staying. That he was there. That he had come at Ian’s text. Because that meant, even though Ian had been a major ass towards Mickey in the past, Mickey still cared.

“No one’s home,” Ian said, his voice still soft. He ran a hand through his short hair, before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t --” He couldn’t think. His mind was a fog that was refusing to clear so he could make sense of what was currently going on with him. “I need --” When he was feeling manic, or depressed, he was supposed to sleep it off. He was able to extract that much from his mind. “Downers. Sedatives. Uh --” He rubbed a hand roughly across his face. “Appointment. For -- to readjust meds. Gotta call --”

He suddenly felt so exhausted, the only thing he wanted to do was lay down and just stare at the ceiling. He didn’t want to sleep -- even though he knew he needed to. He just didn’t have the energy to do anything. Ian leaned down, wrapping his arms around Mickey and resting his forehead on the shorter male’s shoulder. “Maybe Lip can call. I don’t -- I can’t --” More tears welled up in his eyes; he felt like a burden -- so helpless, so dependent. “I can’t think, Mickey. It’s all -- it’s like a fog in my brain. Everything feels like jelly. I just -- I want to lay down.”

MICKEY MILKOVICH

bites his tongue before saying something that would sound uncharacteristically polite on his tongue , you don’t have to thank me , though it’s true . ian has a list of ex - boyfriends to pick from , he has fiona , and lip , and debbie , and so many more people that would rush to his side had he asked for their help . yet , he texted mickey . even after so long , it’s mickey that he called , that he needed . and it’s incredibly reckless to go down that road , he knows , but heart proves time and time again that it’s not the smartest . he should be angry that ian kept him in his emergency list , annoyed at least . but he isn’t . half wishes that he were .

listens carefully to splatter of words, making sense of them not much of a challenge . what catches him by surprise is when slender arms wrap around him as if they belong there , freckled face warm against his shoulder , even through jacket’s fabric . it’s hard to breathe for a second or two , with too much going on in his head . ❛ i —— uh , okay . ❜ the arm that resists the shock moves of it’s own accord , wrapping around him for support .

it’s hard to focus when brain keeps supplying both hopeful , and terrifying scenarios of how this will end . and mickey doesn’t want to think about that ; not now , not ever . just wants to make sure ian is okay , nothing else . hand reassuringly rubs up and down ian’s back , though he’s not sure which of the two of them he is reassuring . ❛ alright , let’s get you home first , then . we’ll get you all of that an’ i’ll figure out the rest as we go . no need t’ give yourself a headache , ‘kay ? ❜ sighs , and hopes it’s subtle enough that he nearly nuzzles ian’s hair when blue eyes dare slip shut for a moment .

all but shakes himself off it, taking a deep breath when glancing at the gray sight that surrounds them everywhere . get your shit together , milkovich . ❛ am i gonna have to carry you ? c’mon , gallagher , ❜ half pokes , half means it . it wouldn’t be the first time , and they are close enough to the house . pushes him a little , hoping for a glance of his face , needing some distance , any distance between them so he can think . it’s hard , a knot on his throat that he just can’t swallow , the whole ordeal still too familiar .

IAN GALLAGHER

When Mickey mentioned carrying him, Ian shook his head gently against the older male’s shoulder. It took him a moment, but he finally pulled his head up, standing up straight and pulling one of his arms back, but still using the other to use Mickey for support. Ian didn’t feel that, at the current moment, he could fully support his own weight on his own. And, as they started walking to the Gallagher abode, Ian was happy that Mickey was there to lean on -- it kept him walking, kept him moving, kept him from completely giving up.

They finally made it inside the house, and Ian looked at the stairs with defeat, his shoulders sagging slightly. He didn’t think he could make it up those unless he wanted to crawl the whole way. Instead, he let go of Mickey, walking the few steps to the couch and practically collapsing on top of the cushions. He curled up into himself almost immediately, bringing his knees up to his chest.

Ian was happy that no one else was home -- that meant they weren’t seeing him in his current state. That meant that they didn’t start falling all over themselves with worry, making sure that their brother was okay. And it also meant that Ian didn’t have to deal with the onslaught of questions of why Mickey was there.

Ian closed his eyes, speaking as he wrapped his arms around himself. “My -- my downers are upstairs. Bedside table. Just need to sleep it off, Mick.”

MICKEY MILKOVICH

doesn’t speak on their walk towards the house, arm firm around ian , supporting what of his weight that his legs couldn’t . face feels warm and blames it on the effort though it’s minimal , short build far stronger than it looks . eyes remain focused on the way ahead , displaying unwavering patience despite obvious preference for the fast - paced ; things only go slow in his hectic life when there’s something wrong , and he hates it . if it were someone else in his arm , it might have been different . he might have rushed , or left . but not ian .

once inside, he waits. glances up at the redhead’s profile as he glares at the stairs . knows what he will pick before he does , and finds no surprise in watching ian drop onto the couch , in the living room that looks almost the same as he remembers . ❛ yeah , okay , ❜ nods , a beat before he’s moving again , taking the steps two at a time . almost expects to bump into one of the gallaghers though he knows better , bursting into ian’s empty room like no time has passed at all .

finds the pill bottles, without thinking much grabs a pillow , and down he goes again , stopping by the kitchen . there , sniffs a seemingly clean mug on the counter , and it doesn’t smell like anything so he fills it with water . that’s good enough . unsurprisingly , ian still is on the couch , not an inch different than when mickey left . fuck . places the mug and the pillow on the coffee table .

❛ here , ❜ shakes the bottle , pills rattling against plastic and warning their presence . opens the cap , pops two on the center his palm , then exchanges drugs for ceramic . hesitates , teeth catching bottom lip when holding out one hand with the pills for ian to grab , while the other waits to pass him the mug . ❛ sit up a little to take ‘em , man . ❜

IAN GALLAGHER

When Mickey came back downstairs with the medication, Ian let out a small groan, nodding. He’d choke if he tried to take the pills while laying down, but he just really didn’t have the energy to do much. Ian slowly pushed himself up from the couch, taking the pills and the cup from Mickey. He eyed the pillow for a moment, before looking at Mickey with raised eyebrows, a smile threatening the corners of his lips. “You brought me a pillow?”

Shaking his head slightly in disbelief and possibly amusement, Ian threw back the pills, sipping on the water before setting it down on the coffee table. He reached over, grabbing the pillow and throwing it down on the couch. “Thanks,” he said softly, looking at Mickey. He didn’t mean just for the pillow. He meant for coming when Ian texted him, for being there, for not leaving -- for being Mickey.

Ian laid back down on the couch, curling around the pillow. His eyes were soft, even though haunted as well, as he looked at Mickey through half-lids. “I love you,” he spoke softly. He knew he shouldn’t say it. Didn’t have the right. But he couldn’t help himself. In that moment, Mickey was the only thing keeping him afloat.

It didn’t typically take long for his downers to kick in, which was a good thing for Ian -- he usually needed them as soon as possible whenever he was taking them. Unfortunately, they weren’t working fast enough that day to kick in before one of his siblings returned home. Ian didn’t even bother to look up to see who it was -- he knew their voice would give them away soon enough.

“The fuck is Mickey doin' here? You guys back together or somethin'?” Lip. Of course it had to be Lip. Debbie or Carl, they’d drop it quick enough -- but Lip and Fiona were ever the big siblings. Lip’s voice seemed to soften the next moment as he spoke, presumably having seen the state his brother was in. “Hey, man, you okay?” He felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “That why Mickey’s here? Ian, what happened?”

Ian closed his eyes tightly, curling into himself even further. He buried his face into the pillow, shaking his head. He didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to think about it. “Need you to call for an appointment,” came his muffled reply. His brother’s overly concerned voice reached his ears. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Sure, bud. I’ll call. Just get some sleep, alright?” With his face buried, Ian missed the confused and worried look Lip shot Mickey, before glancing at his broken brother once more and walking off to make the call.

MICKEY MILKOVICH

he didn’t really think through before picking a pillow from ian’s bed , it just —— happened . being put under the spotlight for it , mickey looks away , embarrassment in the way he shrugs it off . ❛ your couch is fuckin’ shit , ❜ defends himself , as if that’s all the explanation needed . and it is . the gesture speaks for itself . watches in silence as ian takes his pills , heart feeling small . he’s safe now , that’s all that matters . so what if he doesn’t need mickey anymore ?

❛ yeah , whatever , ❜ dismisses the gratitude in the redhead’s voice , staring at his own shoes . he doesn’t have to be thanked , mickey hasn’t done anything that anyone else in his place wouldn’t have . with a sigh , lowers himself onto the armchair , sitting at the very edge .

they share a look once he’s laying down again , blue eyes lingering on green as if he’s never seen them before . then , the words that ian cruelly whispers rip through his chest , and the reply gets stuck on tight throat . I LOVE YOU . heart misses a beat , gaze falling and focusing on an inanimate object instead for what feels like the hundredth time in the last five minutes . he can’t say it back , though feels it as strongly as he did all that time ago . this is wrong . this whole ordeal is wrong , the mixed feelings it brings to surface are too much for a man who’s denied having them for almost seventeen years . remembers of a time that he wouldn’t have felt too bad for bolting . misses that .

fingers are rubbing eyes into their sockets as if they’re about to fall off when the door opens , and he’ll deny any moisture left on fingertips . glances at lip , shoulders tense , and his question is to be expected , of course . it’s been years since mickey last set foot in the gallagher house . ❛ not together , i’m just helpin’ out , ❜ answers , though the question isn’t directed at him . wonders if now that lip is here he is allowed to go home , but reminds himself that he promised ian that he’d stay , so decides to wait until he’s asleep . no matter how awkward this gets .

pretends not to hear their conversation by looking the other way , thinks it’s the polite thing to do , though they aren’t saying anything that he doesn’t already know . maybe he’s just hoping to avoid lip’s further questioning by pretending that he has no idea of the gravity of this . he doesn’t want to tell lip that ian texted him and he came running , doesn’t want to tell him that his little brother had been thinking about suicide . but he has to , doesn’t he ? eventually , he will have to .

at the look thrown his way, he holds for a second , gesturing with his hand for lip to drop it for now . they can talk later , once ian is blissfully asleep and unaware of their deep - set worry . just because he’s aware that he won’t be able to avoid this conversation forever , it doesn’t mean that he can’t hinder it for as long as it’s possible .

IAN GALLAGHER

The next few days were a blur for Ian. He remembered falling asleep on the couch, listening to the sound of Lip on the phone, making an appointment for him. And then the next thing he knew, it was the following day and Lip was trying to get him out of bed for said appointment. He wasn’t sure how he had even gotten in bed. Everything was a haze, Ian didn’t remember much from it all. It was like the world was turning in slow motion, and gravity had increased. Everything around him seemed to move at half speed, including himself, and each step forward took a great amount of energy.

After that, everything just seemed to kind of blur together. He knew he got an increase in his dosage, to help him get through his grief -- the increase wouldn’t last forever, the doctor had said, and that they’d revisit it in six weeks to see how he was doing. She warned that he’d sleep a lot -- which wasn’t news to anyone, honestly -- but it wouldn’t be as bad as when he first started taking his medication.

Ian had been sleeping off and on, more on than anything. He remembered people trying to bring him food, Fiona trying to be encouraging, Debbie sitting with him at one point, he even remembered Mickey’s face a couple times. Besides that, it was dream land, taking pills, and then dream land again.

Ian blinked his eyes open, letting out a yawn. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, before glancing at the clock -- it was about half past noon. Slowly sitting up in bed, he ran a hand through his hair. His mind felt groggy, but more lucid than it had before. A quick glance at his phone told him it had been a few days since he had called Mickey, since he had his emotional breakdown. His limbs felt weak, and his body was protesting moving -- but his mind wanted to surge through the fog, his heart feeling lighter than it had previously.

Slowly standing up, Ian walked to the door, making sure to take his time and not rush himself -- his limbs would probably give out if he tried to move too fast. The stairs were an obstacle that he didn’t know how he managed. He took it one step at a time, holding onto the railing for support. Finally, he made it into the kitchen, closing his eyes and letting out another yawn. “I feel like I just woke from the dead,” he quipped easily, walking over to the counter and grabbing a mug, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Mmm, caffeine, my sweet, dear friend.”

#mkvch #{ xx v; it's always been you }#{ xx v; it's always been you | 01 }#i hate formatting #suicidal thoughts tw #depression tw #guns tw

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