#martianto

 He felt Ian shift behind him suddenly. Seconds later, he felt a warm arm wrap around his side, pulling the older boy closer. 

Mickey flinched when he felt lips press against his neck, but only for a second. 

In time, the flinching away from Ian’s kisses will go away too.

Until then, Mickey held Ian’s hand to his chest, hoping Ian would understand why Mickey still acts the way he does. 

Ian could feel Mickey’s heart pounding, and understood completely.

*****

It was 3am when Mickey was kicked awake by someone. He immediately shot out of bed, holding a crow bar that he always had kept at arms reach behind the bed. 

He looked around the room, panting hard, finding no one hidden in the darkness.

Mickey sighed with relief before turning around to find Ian kicking and crying in bed.

Mickey dropped the crow bar and jumped onto the bed, untangling Ian from his stained, torn up sheets.

“Ian! Ian, what’s wrong?!” 

The redhead started screaming and tried pushing the older boy away. 

Mickey had never heard Ian scream like that before. It made his heart sink with fear and worry.

He finally pulled the covers off the bed so that Ian could be free from the constraints. 

Mickey didn’t know what else to do. Ian had stopped screaming, but he was panting furiously and tears were streaming down his closed eyes. 

Mickey finally tried tapping his shoulder in an attempt to wake up. 

“Ian, it’s just a nightmare. You gotta wake up for me, okay?”

“Mickey…” Ian mumbled, eyes opening slowly.

Mickey immediately turned the lamp on, allowing for Ian to see where he was.

“What the fuck was that?” Mickey asked. Realizing how angry that sounded, he quickly changed the tone in his voice, “You had me freaked out, dude…”

Ian sat up and studied Mickey’s face for a long time before whispering, “You’re okay…”

“Of course I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Mickey asked, suddenly confused.

Ian started crying again. Before he could talk, Mickey pulled Ian into a hug and held him. 

He hated seeing Ian cry, especially when it has to do with him. It seems like he has been the reason for all of Ian’s tears, lately. Guilt overcame him, so he gripped the younger boy tighter. 

“I had a nightmare… well, it didn’t feel like a nightmare at the time. It actually doesn’t feel like a nightmare right now either. It was so real, Mick. We were laying in bed together, like this, and somehow your dad was out of jail and he showed up here with a gun… he busted down the door while we were sleeping and he shot you in the head,” Ian said frantically. He was visibly shaking in Mickey’s arms.

“Fuck, there was blood everywhere.. Mickey, he killed you. What the fuck am I supposed to do if he kills you?!” Ian added, almost yelling now. 

Mickey pulled Ian out of the embrace and held his head, “Look at me, Ian. It was only a nightmare. I’m alive, see? No blood, no guns. Just me and you. My father probably wont be out of prison for a long time, and when he does we will leave and never come back. I promise.”

Mickey was surprised at his own words. He is willing to run away with Ian and leave everything behind. When did he fall so hard for this boy?

Ian smiled and rested his head on Mickey’s shoulder, “Thank you. I’m sorry for ruining your sheets…”

Mickey laughed, “They were ruined anyway.”

After a few minutes they laid back down. This time Mickey was facing Ian, holding him close. 

Ian broke the silence, “Did you mean it when you said that you will come stay with me? That we can leave together?”

Mickey brushed the redhead’s cheek, “Yeah, I did. Now let’s get some beauty sleep, okay Cinderella?”

Ian chuckled, “Don’t you mean Sleeping Beauty? Sleeping Beauty is the princess that falls asleep.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “You would know that, fag.”

“Whatever, Snow White,” Ian mumbled before closing his eyes again. 

A few minutes later, Ian was woken up again, only this time by a noise coming from the living room. 

Suddenly, Svetlana slammed open the door screaming.

“MICKEY!! YOUR FATHER IS…” 

Svetlana was cut off by a gunshot, blood staining the front of her gown as she fell to the ground.

Mickey jumped out of bed, this time grabbing Ian’s hand and running to the window.

Mickey tried breaking the window open, punching and kicking as hard as he could, “Ian! Run!”

The window was finally broken, but it was too late. 

Terry had walked in the room, black pistol in hand.

“I told you I was going to fucking kill you faggots.”