An Unexpected Visitor

This was written before poor, dull Caleb had his character assassinated and is not S7 compliant. No prison escape for Mickey.

Caleb goes to see Mickey in prison. XGallavich

Caleb sat awkwardly on a cold metal stool. He drummed his fingers on the metal table bolted to the grey concrete floor. The room bustled around him but he felt isolated from everything he knew. His eyes flicked around the room; warning signs on the wall, a guard standing boredly in the corner. He looked down at his visitor sticker. The white and black seemed stark against his purple, button down shirt. He wondered whether it was the right choice. Maybe he should have worn the green, or a plain white tee. Or black, black was slimming. He wasn't sure why he had bothered to wear a nice shirt at all; he wasn't there to impress anyone.

He straightened as he heard the door scrape open and a prisoner was lead over to where he sat. The prisoner's hair was long and unkempt, his face covered in a patchy layer of coarse black hair. He was short and stocky. Strength emanated from him. Caleb could see the hints of a black tattoo creeping out from behind his white tank top. Caleb watched as blue eyes that had no time for him looked over him critically until the guard's hand came down on his orange clad shoulder and forced him to sit. The guard nodded at Caleb. Mickey looked between them; he pushed his tongue against his bottom lip and shook his head with a small disbelieving smile.

"Mickey," Caleb said firmly. "I thought you'd be taller."

Mickey raised his eyebrows. "I know you?"

"Caleb," he said. "We have a mutual friend."

Mickey thumbed at his bottom lip. "The fuck we do."

"Ian."

Mickey took a deep breath and leaned back slightly. His hands were splayed out on the table and Caleb could see the fading yellow of a bruise around his wrist. He looked Caleb dead in the eye and Caleb watched as he seemed to battle with himself. The mask of nonchalance and aggression slipped slightly. His face softened and he couldn't seem to help the concern bleed through. "He ok?"

"Oh yeah, he's fine," Caleb said brightly. He smiled and shook his head. "Doing just great."

Mickey scratched his head. "Then why the fuck you here?"

"I just wanted to meet you," Caleb said icily.

"Glad to help you cross something off your fucking bucket list."

Caleb laughed and pointed at Mickey. "You're funny. He didn't say you were funny. He said you were violent and vulgar and had the market cornered on internalised homophobia, but not that you were funny."

Mickey started at Caleb, eye brows raised comically high. "Yo rent-a-cop," he called out, getting to his feet. "How bout taking me back to my cell now."

The guard ignored him. Caleb sobered up. "Oh no, he's doing me a favour. I wanted to meet you, see what exactly is so God damn special about you coz I'm a catch and you're really not."

"Are you on something?" Mickey asked. His stance was wary now, his eyes flicking to the guard Caleb had do him this favour. It worried Mickey. He couldn't control anything that was happening him and it worried him. Had him on guard. Caleb was glad. Let him be wary. Let him feel off kilter.

"Who the fuck are you?" Mickey repeated.

"I thought I was going to be Ian's fiancé. Thought that I was going the man who Ian married and had kids with and who would cook the Thanksgiving dinner for his whole crazy family but instead," Caleb sucked in a breath, a sheen of angry tears in his eyes. "Instead, I find out that he's sorry and he never meant to hurt me."

"You gonna get to a point anytime soon?" Mickey was putting on a good show of not being affected by what Caleb was saying but Caleb could see his fists were clenched and his jaw was tight as if his teeth were biting down a thousand word he wanted to fling at Caleb. Caleb had his attention. Caleb was in charge. He leaned forward, taking his time.

"I was a place holder," Caleb said softly. "Just someone to keep him warm."

Mickey stared at him.

"You an artist, Mickey?"

"The fuck?"

"Didn't think so. I am. Even make money off it. I'm a fire fighter too. Hot back fireman," he laughed bitterly. That's how Ian had always described him. "But I can't see to stack up against some pale, short as fuck criminal with 'fuck off' knuckle tattoos."

"Fuck you up," Mickey answered automatically.

Caleb laughed. "Coz that was the point." Caleb rubbed at his eyes. "He moved out, you know. I came home from shift and Lip was there packing his shit in boxes."

"Well he always was a coward and I still don't see what the fuck this has to do with me," Mickey said, arms crossed across his chest. "I haven't seen the guy in four fucking years. You got a problem take it out on him, don't pull whatever shirt you've got going on here. Creepy as fuck, man."

"Guess we do crazy things for love." Caleb sighed.

"Can I go now ? Or you some sweater get rained on and you wanna blame my ass for that too?"

"I just wanted to meet you," Caleb said. "My whole world came crashing down around me and I thought if I saw you, I'd see what he can't get over, but I don't. "

"Sorry to be such a fucking disappointment."

Caleb bristled. The bastard didn't care. His whole life was ruined, all his plans and the bastard who ruined them all didn't care. He was just standing there looming over Caleb. Caleb had all the power. He was twice Mickey's size, had the guards, he could turn them on Mickey whenever he wanted. He could force Mickey to listen to every god damn word he had to say, make him answer all his questions and still he felt as if Mickey was running the show. Staring down at him as if he had the power to end the conversation whenever he wanted. He couldn't even leave the room without someone else's permission and Caleb sill felt like he was at a disadvantage.

"Do you have any idea what it feels like to have found the love of your life and discover that you're not his? You ruined my life without even trying."

Mickey just stared down at him, no trace of sympathy. Just a hard stare. Caleb couldn't tell if he'd even really heard him or not. Mickey raised his eyebrows as if he was asking for more. He scratched at his bottom lip, finally breaking eye-contact before looking back.

"See," Caleb continued. He stood up, trying to regain the upper hand, forcing Mickey to look up at him. The guard across the room turned to face them slightly. He was happy to arrange a meet but Caleb doubted they'd let him cause too much of a scene.

"I asked Ian to marry me." Caleb saw Mickey finch. His eyes suddenly flickering with intensity. He hadn't like that. "And he said no…without even thinking about it. Just no and the look on his face…" Caleb paused and sniffed. He scratched at his cheek, his finger brushing quickly under his eyes.

Mickey remained silent.

"You're nothing," Caleb threw out at Mickey. "You have nothing. I'm the better man. I'm the smarter choice."

"Who you tryin' to convince?" Mickey asked with a smile. "Ain't my fault you can't keep his dick hard."

Caleb nodded to the guard who promptly bustled over and took Mickey by the elbow. Caleb thought it was a sign of how long he'd been imprisoned that Mickey barely flinched. From what Ian had said, Mickey wouldn't have taken kindly to being manhandled in the past.

Caleb watched as Mickey's orange jumpsuit disappeared back behind the bullet proof glass and thick concrete walls. Mickey didn't look back. Didn't see Caleb staring at him. Caleb sat there, numb, for a few more minutes until another guard moved him on.

He walked out of the visiting room in a daze and headed to collect his belongings. He thought he'd feel better. He thought he would meet Mickey and it would all fall into place but instead it felt like his chest had been ripped apart. He leant against the wall.

"You all right, sweetie?" a woman asked from behind the sign-in desk. "First time," she continued knowingly, "Can be hard, seeing someone you love like that but it gets easier and something is better than nothing, right?"

Caleb looked over at her and nodded. It was easier than explaining.

He signed his name and received his phone, keys and wallet in return. He checked his phone, the image of himself and a smiling Ian stared mocking up at him through the clock display. No missed calls. No texts.

Caleb hated Mickey Fucking Milkovich.