He stumbled in like he always did, trying to find a bed to sleep in. Fucking Frank. Fiona rolled her eyes at him and kept on tending to Liam, Lip ignored him completely, watching TV with Carl and Debbie, and Ian was leaning against the table, shaking his head as Frank started one of his rants.
He walked over to the fridge, searching through it for some food.
"Would you get out of there Frank, we barely got enough for us as it is," Fiona grumbled.
"Since when did the patriarch of this family stop getting rights to his own god-damn refrigerator?!" Frank slurred.
He pulled out a plate with a cake covered in blue butter icing and sprinkles and Ian started walking over to him.
"Put that back Frank, Debbie made that for Liam’s birthday," he said, trying to take it off him.
He muttered a few things, pulling it back and shoving Ian in the chest.
"Hey, stop it Frank!" Fiona snapped.
"This is my house!" Frank said, trying to pick at the cake’s edge.
"Well it’s not your cake…" Ian said, trying again to take it off him and while Frank waved him away and stumbled back, the cake flinging back into his chest and sliding down onto the floor.
"Jesus Frank!" Fiona yelled.
Frank licked his finger and shrugged. “Tasted like shit anyway,” he said.
"You’re a fucking asshole!" Ian yelled.
Lip, Carl and Debbie were standing in the archway from the living room, Debbie was clearly upset about her cake and Lip had his arm around her. It was at that point that Mickey walked through the door.
"Don’t you talk to me like that I’m- I’m your father!" Frank said, lunging at Ian and balling up his shirt in his fist.
His clumsy footing had them both falling into the kitchen cabinet right as Frank had his other fist aiming for Ian’s chin.
"Fuck!" Fiona yelled, putting Liam back in his high chair.
Mickey stripped his jacket off and threw it down onto the table before taking long strides into the kitchen. He grabbed Frank by the arm and wrenched him back, slamming him into the fridge and putting a hand to his throat.
Fiona’s hands clapped to her mouth and Lip had hold of Carl’s shirt in one hand and the other around Debbie’s shoulders.
"Let go of me, this is my house!" Frank garbled.
"Here’s what you’re gonna do," Mickey said. "You’re gonna get your ass up and out of this house, I don’t give a fuck where it goes but it ain’t stayin’ here."
"That was me askin’ nicely," Mickey said, his grip tightening on Frank’s throat for a few seconds. "I only do that once."
Frank turned up his nose in a makeshift snarl but said nothing, huffing out a loud sigh and trying to push Mickey back.
"You lay a fuckin’ hand on him again and you’re gonna lose the fuckin’ thing, you hear me?" He said, dragging him through the kitchen and to the door.
Fiona rushed to get it open and Mickey shoved him out, watching as he stumbled on the porch.
"Get the fuck out of here," he said, grabbing the door and slamming it shut before walking back over to Ian.
He was sitting against the kitchen cabinets, a little blood trickling from his nose. Mickey knelt down beside him.
"You okay?" he asked.
"You don’t have to save me you know, I can handle Frank," he said, wiping his nose on his sleeve.
Mickey rolled his eyes, leaning up onto the bench to grab some paper towel, holding it against Ian’s face.
"I know, I just ain’t gonna sit around and watch while he takes a fuckin’ swing at you," Mickey said.
"Thanks," Ian said. "Sorry about your cake Debs."
She shrugged, “Thanks for trying to stop him.”
Mickey helped Ian up and Ian flinched, clutching at his shoulder.
"You alright?" Mickey asked.
"Yeah, think I slammed my shoulder into the bench is all," he said.
Mickey looked up at Fiona, “You got an ice-pack or something?”
She nodded, “Peas are in the freezer.”
Mickey gave her a nod and grabbed them out, leading Ian upstairs.
When they got to Ian’s bedroom Mickey closed the door behind them. “Shirt off,” he said.
Ian sighed but did it anyway, sitting on the bed and watching as Mickey sat down behind him. He jumped a little as he put the frozen bag against his bare skin.
"That hurt?" Mickey asked.
"Nah, just cold," Ian said. "Why’d you do that anyway?"
"Do what?" Mickey asked.
"Go all crazy-eyes on Frank."
Mickey shrugged, “Because you would have been upset if I’da killed him.”
Ian laughed a little, “Why would you have killed him?”
"He took a swing at you man," Mickey said. "You think I’m just gonna watch someone do that kind of shit to you?"
Ian smiled to himself. “Thanks Mick,” he said.
Mickey leaned over and kissed Ian on the back of the head, making Ian smile harder.
"Hey, anyone lays a finger on you, you tell me," he said.
"My hero," Ian grinned and Mickey flicked his ear from behind. "Ouch! What did you just say about anyone laying a finger on me?"
Mickey leaned in again, kissing his ear. “I ain’t anybody,” he said, kissing him again.