Work Text:
THURSDAY. 11:39AM. CHICAGO, IL.
"WAKE THE FUCK UP, YOU GOD DAMN DEGENERATE!!" rocks the Milkovich household with a torrent velocity & Iggy Milkovich, barely awake, just smiles at his raging bitch little sister, Mandy. The day has begun.
"The fuck are you still doing here??!" she demands. Iggy slowly sits up, rubbing his eyes & reaching for his roach. "Appears I was sleeping, huh?" he lightly tosses back, as he sparks the clip & inhales, "You make any coffee?" - She stares at him blankly until he makes eye contact, "I'm not your fucking Denny's waitress, dick head!" "But...?" he pursues. "Svet brewed a pot. Fuck you. I'm not getting you a cup, either." Mandy informs. She's always so pleasant in the morning. "You were supposed to pick up Mickey from the Greyhound 2 hours ago!" she is noticeably concerned. "He hasn't called to bitch at me about your dumbass, either! That's not like him at all." No, it's not. Iggy reaches for his phone & checks his texts: 12 messages; none from his brother, Mickey. "What did Ian say?" he sincerely asks. "Fuck, Iggy! I don't know, why don't YOU ask him??" she blasts. "Cuz I just woke up & don't fucking care, Amanda. You seem to have something invested in this "probably nothing issue" - what else are you keeping from me?" he calmly retorts.
Mandy Milkovich was never one to tip her hand. She was worried, but was also programmed not to show it. Her brother always saw through her facades & masks; there was no use trying to lie. "What about dad...?" she muttered quietly, almost to herself. "Fuck's dumb name is Terry. Last I knew, he's still in lock up, getting valuable dicks-on lessons regarding homosexuality on a consistent basis. So?" Iggy passionately jumps in. "You think he'd waste favors from the outside to hunt his gay son? Assuming he has any favors left." "I wouldn't put anything past that piece of shit!" Mandy's emotional pain bleeding through. "He's capable of far worse & you know it." She knows all too well; there's no end to their father's sense of chaotic-crazy. "Mickey doesn't just go MIA." she affirms. "3 years ago, no one could ever find that gremlin, cuz he was off getting ginger dick behind everyone's back, his included." Iggy argues. "You're so funny, Iggy, fuck! You'd think you weren't his older brother, who slept in over picking him up this morning, for Christ's sake!" she explodes out of his room. Iggy smiles & throws on a wife beater. He takes a beat & the long final drag, before crumpling the clip tip into his mouth, swallowing it as he heads out.
The living room is alive with commotion. Ian Gallagher is a wreck, trying to orchestrate a search party, on the phone with who cares? Svetlana nurses her baby with a silent nervousness from the recliner & Mandy is pacing vigorously to & from the kitchen, with no direction for her frustration. They're all in their own heads & Iggy doesn't have time to add to the worry or try to console any of these walking bags of hormone. He quickly pours coffee into a cup & takes the pot with him as he exits the back swiftly. He knows he has to locate Mickey & the "Three Femigos" will only get in his way. The fresh air hits him & he pauses. The sun beats down hard on Chicago, as Iggy ponders his first move. Suddenly, with a cigarette to his lips, he's to his car. None of his family had even clocked the giant shape hidden under a tarp in their garage. Lucky him.
The Camaro roars to life & peels back with all of its torque. Mandy emerges from the kitchen in complete shock, but Iggy misses her ostentatious "WHAT THE FUCK??" as he screeches the car from sight. Ian obviously had no idea of Mickey's whereabouts & it read all across his scared face. Iggy dialed Davey, a two-bit local hustler that sometimes joined in on the Milkovich Mayhem. "Yea?" Davey answers. "Yo - you heard from Mick? Anything?" Iggy drills him. "Nah, man. Why?" Davey utters. "Fuck you. Tell Tony to check the word from out the MCC - anything from Terry." Iggy instructs. "Your dad? You think he's--" "--shut the fuck up, Davey. Just do it." Iggy interrupts & hangs up.
He decides to turn down the Gallagher's street. *Why not?* he thinks, *where else does he go?* Iggy burns rubber into the pavement just outside their house. Only Carl is seen off the side of the house, lighting shit on fire. Iggy always thought Carl was the best Gallagher. Although his sister-mom was climbing the ranks. *In my pants* - just then Carl is at the car. "Nice muscle, where'd you cop this?" Carl is amazed. "Found it." Iggy smiles, "You seen Mickey?" "No, but I did hear talk of a welcoming at the Greyhound station earlier, why?" Carl replies. "From who?" Iggy snaps. "Some Russian guy & a poindexter outside the Alibi this morning." Carl yawns. "Thanks. Wait, aren't you supposed to be in school now?" Iggy asks. "School's for stupids." Carl states, cooly. *I'll remember that, smalls* "Like your jib, kid. You hear anything else, call this number." Iggy praises, handing him a MACY'S business card with the name & phone# of Jaclyn Hall replaced by 'Death' & one of his many cell digits. Carl clocks this & smiles, "Can do, MadMax." as he pockets the card.
Iggy calls Davey as he speeds west. "Dude, Igg! Tony said your dad put out a fucking hit yesterday on your bro. He's looking into parties involved." "Goddamnit. Fuckin poor puss loser. Look, tell Tony to limit his search to a big Russian thug & a computer geek partner, yea? Call me in 20. I need specialized help." Iggy orders & cuts out. His next call wasn't going to be easy, but the time that had passed was frivolous to the bond he shared with his brothers. Iggy dialed, it rings twice & is then picked up. No answer, just silence. Iggy waits... "Colin?! I know you're there, man." Still no answer. "Whatever. Look, Terry put out a hit from MCC--" "--I should care, why?" jumps Colin's raspy voice. "On his own son." drops Iggy. "You're a cockroach, Iggo - you can't die." Colin laughs. "Not me, bro. You." Iggy says. "What?! Fuck you. Why?" asks Colin. "Because you're a fag, remember?" comes Iggy. "Funny, chode. Where's Mickey?" Colin knows exactly who the real target is now. "No idea. Never showed up to the bus station & I'd been waiting to pick him up since 9am." Iggy lies. "Heard Terry put out a hit on him & some Rusky & his accountant took the job." Colin is silent, thinking. "Meet you at the RubNTug in 10." Colin hangs up. Iggy was pleased. Colin had been building his own set-up in Granite, IL for over a year now & business was picking up, moving guns & pharmaceuticals through Lake Michigan & into Detroit. He needed bodies he could trust. He needed his own blood.
Iggy pulls up quick behind Patsy's Pies & gets out, popping a fresh square as his head is met by the barrel of a 9mm Beretta. "Nice ride, schmuck. You find it?" comes the voice holding the handgun. "Undoubtedly, fam. Now remove your pistol from my head before you lose it & yours." Iggy nonchalantly replies, lighting the square. The gun uncocks & Iggy swings around, putting his older brother into a half Nelson, "Collie, if I'da felt real weight in that piece, I'd be slapping you silly with the dick I just removed from your crotch." "You're such a cowboy, V. Lemme go." Colin gives up physically. Iggy pops his cigarette into Colin's mouth & flips him around, embracing him with a love only brothers understand. Colin hugs him back "It's good to see you little brother." "The switchblade you have at my side is shorter, you get a new one?" asks Iggy. "Yea, easier to maneuver. I'll remove mine when you take yours away from the back of my neck." Colin offers. Iggy smiles & concedes. It was so good to see his brother, but their other was still MIA & action was way past due. He takes back his square & flicks a new one to Colin. "Get in. Hopefully Tony has new intel."
As they drive toward Wrigley, Iggy finally gets Davey on the phone & hands it to Colin. "Iggy - Tony said they got Mick offa 23rd & that restaurant supply warehouse on the west end." Davey unleashes. "Good. Tell Tony to bring 3 other guns with him to the 24 block corner in 10." sounds off Colin. "Iggy...? Fuck happened to your voice, son?" Davey perplexes. "Been drinking dick cream." Colin hangs up, amused with himself. He turns to his brother & smiles "You get all that?" "You realize that you just told him that you sound like a cum guzzler, right?" Iggy lays out. "He thought I was you, tho." Colin defends. "Yea, but it actually was YOUR voice." Iggy states. They sit there, in silence until Tony & 3 rapscallion hoodlums are seen in the distance. "What's the scheme?" asks Colin. "Locate Mick. Free Mick. Kill everyone who is not Mick." Iggy coldly blueprints the simplicity. "Giddy up." Colin is now eager to get his gun off. He loads an extended clip into his 9.
The car pulls up & Tony Milkovich, their cousin, finishes his beer & moves to Iggy's window. "You scope it?" Iggy asks. "Yup. 4 bodies. 1 tied to a chair. Couldn't make out much without being made." Tony informs. "Any movement from the other 3 figures?" Iggy fishes. "Just the larger & smaller ones. 3rd one is against the back wall, supervising I guess. Mickey's obviously tied to the chair. Should be cake." Tony proudly assesses. "Yea, too cake." Iggy looks to a knowing Colin. *Mickey is the figure against the wall. Ruskys think they're clever.* "Tony - you & your boy take the back & be ready for the nerd that tries to escape. You two flank the sides. Keep your eyes & ears open. Collie & I will handle the entrance from the front." Iggy orders & they all disperse toward the unassuming house. No words are spoken as these street mercs move into place, like a fucking Splinter Cell video game cut scene.
Iggy clocks their positions & motions to Colin, handing him a sawed off. Colin's grin widens like a kid on Christmas morning. Iggy kneels down, away from the door's opening & knocks loudly. Colin grasps the shotty & grounds himself dead center to the door. "Who is it?" yells a burly Russian accent. "It is Sergei from old town. Here to move fag boy." Iggy bellows in his best Svetlana impersonation. Colin cracks a grin. "No Sergei know. We have orders to keep him alive...barely." comes the Russian voice behind the door. "I have notice from Milkovich head guy. He tell me what I say you. It hot out here, bro! Lemme in, ya?" Iggy responds. "I no see you in view hole, Sergei." he replies. "Do not make fun of my height, Zangeif! It hot as balls!!" yells Iggy, motioning to Colin to get lower, as he positions himself with his Uzi. "Fine! Mother Russia weeps for your weakness, comrade." the door starts to open & Iggy dips around the bushes to the side of the house, trying to get an inside view.
BANG! shoots Colin's shotgun & we hear the large body thud to the doorway. Just then, the back door springs open & a scrawny book worm in glasses stumbles out in terror, trying to compose himself to escape free. He quickly meets Tony's Bowie knife in the leg, but before he can scream, Tony's boy is on him, holding his mouth shut. Two bodies down. Eerie silence. Nobody moves, but Iggy. He motions to the thug to cover him & he scales the protruding chimney side to the roof & cautiously moves toward the dining room skylight. He peers down & sees no one in the chair. Mickey is bound & gagged against the wall & catches Iggy's shadow, not knowing who or what is was. The lone kidnapper sulks down, prepping his weapons for the ensuing ambush. Iggy waits for a clear shot, his Uzi locked & still.
Mickey realizes what's in play & impulsively creates the distraction by bolting across the room, just under the skyline. Iggy always admired his brother's instigation in the face of danger. The gunman reacts immediately, rising & taking aim on his now moving prize. Iggy ceases this opportunity & unloads his full banana clip, raining bullets down through the skylight, directly into the culprit. Mickey dashes out the front door, tripping over the dead Russian's giant carcass, and rolls right into his brother Colin. "Hey, Mick. How goes?" says Colin, slyly. Mickey's brow furrows & he throws his bound hands up to Colin. "Yea yea, good to see you too, youngn." as Colin slices him free with his blade. "Fuck, you guys!!" Mickey screams, mostly from him ripping the duct tape off his own face, "What the fuck was this?! Where's Iggy??! Fucker never showed this morning!!"
"Better late than never, bro. Like a period." Iggy laughs, as he jumps down from the one story roof, joining his brothers. "You're fine now, huh?" he asks Mickey. "Fuck! Who the fuck are these fucks??!" Mickey explodes. "Terry sent em." Iggy states, and once again, it goes silent. Just silent enough to make out the sirens in the distance. "Bomb-a-noss, bitches!" as they all scatter, Mickey & Colin run up the street towards the car; Iggy heads to the back yard, finding Tony & posse with a scared, tied up & bleeding little man. "Get ghost! 5-Oh! Tony, drop him in the alley back there, then ditch." Iggy says as he cuts right & dashes towards where the car is parked. "What about Science Fair Sam, here?" Tony bellows after him." Do as I said & I'll take care if it, dick-job! Get gone now!!" Iggy screams & Tony obeys.
Mickey & Colin sit in the Camaro. Mickey is exhausted, in the back admiring the car, checking his pockets in angst. Iggy dives in, to the surprise of the other two, fires up the engine & tosses his pack of cigarettes behind him, into Mickey's lap, as they burn out. "Read my mind, V." Mickey smiles, as he lights a square. "Where'd you find this Transformer?" Mickey laughs. Iggy pulls left violently & the Camaro 180s & drifts into the alleyway Iggy just ran from. "We're going back?! Fuck for??" yells Colin. "Retribution." comes the icy tone of Iggy Milkovich. The stranded 4-eyes, still bound & gagged is sitting up, in pain from his stab & losing blood quick. He furiously tries to free himself, checking for any sign of the burly oaf who stabbed him & tied him up. He is almost free of the bungee cord used around his hands, only to then hear the Camaro charging from behind him. In perfect timing, his face is met by the Chevy's grill, as he turns to view it consume his life in a single instant. Iggy slams on the brakes, after rolling over the body & without hesitation, Mickey jumps from the car, coffee pot in hand & with an enraged cry, smashes the pot into the skull of his captor. Jamming the broken handle into his neck, Mickey spits on the dead body & whips around to the car, noticing Iggy has left his door wide open & is gone.
"Get in the back, Mick!" yells Colin, "Iggy's bout back!" Mickey does so & soon after, Iggy returns & drives off. "Fuck did you go off to just now?" Mickey interrogates Iggy. "Loose ends." Iggy spouts, as they drive south. A sudden massive explosion erupts in their wake & both Mickey & Colin Milkovich stare out the back window, in awe of the flames & plumes of billowing smoke now arising from the setting they just escaped. "Loose ends, huh?" Mickey smiles. "How'd you rig that so fast?" asks Colin. "Pyros never divulge their secrets." Iggy grins, "From here, we got a whole new problem to wrangle." Iggy explains. "Yea, your fucking alarm clock?" jabs Mickey. Iggy is focused & determined as he drives, "No, bro. As long as Terry Milkovich is alive, we're all in danger." Mickey looks to Colin & they both know it to be true. "And Mick, 'all' now includes the Gallagher clan & your carrot top lollipop." Mickey knows that Iggy speaks truth. In order to protect their family & their loved ones, their father needed to die. All three brothers knew it fell to them to handle the situation & all three reveled in the thought.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Mandy, tired, stressed & on her third pack before 2pm, walks into the kitchen & slumps into the table setting. She lights another square as she hears Svetlana trying to talk sweetly & softly to Ian, who had since been in his room for over an hour. She rolls her eyes & checks her phone.
A single text from Iggy reads: the 4 of us need to talk
She smiles, knowing Mickey is safe & that 4 meant Colin was with them. Iggy always came through when it got down to it. That security warmed her heart. Before she delivers the good news to Mickey's husband & wife, Mandy goes for some coffee...only to realize there is only a single mug in place of where the entire pot should be. Fuck it. She pops a couple ice cubes in the mug & skips off to Mickey & Ian's bedroom in a flurry of exaltation!
€(=)
8=word=8
