Chapter Text
Don’t get Mickey wrong; he thinks Hallie is a nice girl. She’s sweet, she’s pretty, she’s smart; she’s studying psychology.
But Hallie really isn’t his type, gender-wise. Mickey knows he is wrong for leading Hallie on, but with how she acts, there’s a 50/50 chance she actually likes him. Mixed Signals.
Mickey couldn’t care less if she liked him. She’s going later; the script is written. It’s just not her time yet.
Mickey then got out of his car, flashing a sweet smile to Hallie, as he walked up to her on the porch.
“Hallie! Hello, why aren’t you enjoying the party?” Mickey asked, stealthily putting his arm over Hallie’s shoulders.
“Oh, Mickey, I didn't think you’d come, you’re just in time,” Hallie said, shrugging Mickey’s arm off and walking inside; Mickey followed her inside.
The party was as obnoxious as Mickey thought it’d be. He isn’t much of a party guy unless he’s forced. If he didn't come and now that Cici’s dead… Hallie is a good alibi, that's what Mickey needs her for.
Mickey started around, the inside was an epileptic’s worst nightmare, the damn flashing lights were giving even him a headache. It was loud with people doing shots and screaming and whatnot.
Mickey was heavily reminded of why he doesn't go to crazy sorority parties.
Mickey skipped out on drinks, waiting for Hallie to get hers, the last thing he needs is getting drunk. He woke up in a random man’s bed last time. He cannot afford mistakes, especially those ones.
And especially with his confusing feelings for Randy, he doesn't want to make a fool of himself.
Mickey stared blankly outside a window Randy was there holding a glass cup and mingling with some of their shared classmates.
Mickey stared, he has committed Randy’s features to detail before, nothing new but… Mickey doesn't know, he has a stronger feeling towards the guy.
Stupid feelings. Always getting in the way. They’ve never done him any good.
He still cannot help but stare. Mainly at Randy’s lips and maybe his eyes drifted to the curve of Randy’s neck to his collarbone; such a delicate bone. Made to be broken to protect your spine or any vital parts of your body.
The skin there is easy to bruise. Not from direct impact. Something more. Usually anyway, sometimes it requires a bit more force.
Mickey wonders if Randy would taste like the alcohol he is drinking. Or if he’d bruise a little easily or if his skin is tougher than it looks.
Mickey wonders how Randy’s lips would feel on his own skin.
Then Hallie brushed against him. Snapping Mickey out of his love-crazed haze.
It was a small signal to follow her and Mickey ‘gladly’ did.
“Hey, babe, wanna dance?” Mickey hated how the words felt in his mouth speaking to Hallie but he needed to keep this up. Convincingly, half-assing leads to suspicion.
Mickey looked down with charming eyes at Hallie who flashed a smile. Her grip changed on her cup.
“Oh, I’d love to. Yeah, with that tall, wide-shoulder fraternity boy,” Hallie said, pointing at a random fraternity boy. “Do you think you could set that up?”
Hallie giggled as Mickey said; “Owch,”
Best-case scenario for Mickey though. He was glad that he didn't have to dance with Hallie. But he did act bummed out.
Then Randy started to walk past after Hallie had walked away after one of her sorority sisters called for her.
Mickey felt as if the party was stuffy. It was one of the bigger beginning-of-the-year parties.
“Empire strikes back. Better story, improved effects.” Mickey said, pointing at Randy who slowed and turned to face Mickey.
Randy pointed back at Mickey. “Not a sequel. Part of a trilogy. Completely planned.”
“I like those little furry things,” Hallie chimed in.
“The Ewoks! They blow.” Mickey’s pointing hand turned into a small fist.
Mickey clenched his teeth, in a subtle manner.
Randy went on to talk to; what Mickey thinks is a couple. They’re holding hands and not many non-couples do that at parties. Hallie went back to her sorority sisters.
Mickey’s having so much fun.
He didn't want to drink for many reasons, one being that he’s gotta get back to his dorm somehow.
Mickey went inside, grabbed a beer, and sat on a porch step in front of the house.
Mickey popped the top open and chugged some, shrugging off the way it burned going down his throat. He’ll figure out how to get home somehow. Not a big deal if he doesn't.
It wasn't long before Mickey drank the whole thing.
He was barely tipsy, having a higher alcohol tolerance.
His phone rang.
Mickey picked it up.
“Are you out of your mind?!” Nancy. Nancy practically almost yelled down Mickey’s flip phone.
“Jesus fucking christ, of course I am,” Mickey said, rubbing at his eyes.
Nancy yelling at him is the last thing he needs.
“Cici Cooper is dead!” Nancy’s voice was laced with a ‘motherly’ scolding.
“Oh really? Wow, I didn't know! Who could’ve killed her?” Mickey’s was dripping in sarcasm.
“It’s not her time!”
“The script got lost. It’s fixed now, no need to rewrite it all over a minor mishap.”
“I gave you a job and–and you do this? I thought you were professional.”
“And I thought you were a mother to your son, but apparently that never happened.”
Mickey heard a growl before the line went dead. He rolled his eyes, pocketing his phone. Nancy was acting as if this one-out-of-line thing would cause everything to fall like a house of cards.
Mickey sighed, tugging at his hair.
The door opened behind him and Mickey didn't look back. He didn't want to know who it was.
He just hoped they didn't hear what he said on the phone.
The person sat beside Mickey, and Mickey caught a glimpse of the person’s shoes.
Randy.
“What are you doing out here alone? Why not with Hallie?” Randy asked. Mickey didn't even look up.
“She’s with her sorority sisters,” Mickey tried to keep the venom out of his voice as he tried to drink from his empty beer bottle.
Mickey was on his final thread of the night.
He glanced up at Randy.
“I disagree with some of your views and… Choices and we obviously bicker but I still care about you,” Randy said, getting close to where their knees were touching.
“You're drunk.”
“Just because it’s in a wine glass doesn't mean it’s alcoholic.”
“This is a party.”
“So?”
Mickey didn't have a comeback to that.
“What’s wrong?”
Mickey didn't know how to answer. What could he even say? ‘Oh! I have romantic thoughts
about you that I try to keep hidden!’ Hell no.
Randy put his hand on Mickey’s shoulder, and they sat in silence, save for the still raging party tonight.
Then Mickey did something bold.
He looked into Randy’s eyes before tucking his head on the side of Randy’s collarbone.
Mickey could feel how Randy shivered and tensed up and grew hot, no doubt feeling Mickey’s breath against his neck. Mickey held his position.
Randy stared up at the moon high in the sky, trying to ignore the more intimate nature now brewing.
They stayed like that for however long. Randy untensed eventually, just staring down at Mickey.
Mickey liked it, even if it was uncomfortable for his stature, it was nice. Peaceful.
Then Mickey opened his mouth to say something and Randy thought Mickey was about to do something else.
Randy tensed up again and pushed Mickey back. Mickey had a soft thud where his elbows hit the floor. He grunted.
“Sorry. I just thought-” Randy tried speaking.
Was he flustered? If anything Mickey thought Randy would be pissed off, not shy and flustered, like how he sometimes acts around… Sidney.
No, Mickey is just imagining things.
“I wouldn’t do something to you that I wouldn’t let you do to me,” Mickey said. That fried Randy’s brain.
“Or without your permission,” Mickey quickly added.
He felt a small flush creep onto his cheeks. Goddamnit, why?
He made Randy short-circuit. Mickey chuckled at Randy’s frozen shocked face.
Randy then came to his senses and wouldn’t look Mickey in the eyes. Mickey ruffled Randy’s hair before standing up.
When Randy saw Mickey open his driver’s side up he quickly walked over.
“Not a chance in hell, I’m letting you drive drunk,” Randy said, taking the keys. “Passenger side.”
“I’m barely tipsy-”
“I don’t give a fuck. Passenger side. Now.”
Mickey, begrudgingly, went and sat in the passenger seat of his own car while Randy got in the driver's side and started the car.
“You’re a grown man not a child, stop pouting,” Randy said, but Mickey ignored Randy and kept on.
“Who are you, my-my parent?” Mickey couldn't bring himself to say mom or dad.
He’s never had a good relationship with them because of his older sister but that’s all besides the point.
Randy just rolled his eyes, driving down to Mickey’s dorm.
Randy has been staying there lately. Because his roommate; Paul, is apparently a trash roommate and Randy doesn't need that added stress.
Just a few nights ago, Randy was talking about a tape he did in case the Ghostface Killers came back for a third time. Mickey felt a pang stab his heart. Of course, it was for if Randy died…
Mickey is gonna make sure that never happens.
…
Mickey grumbled, walking through the park. Trying to find where Randy is with Gale and Dewey.
Mickey had tried calling Randy but apparently Randy couldn't be bothered to call or answer him back! Really, and Randy said he carried for Mickey.
Mickey needs to calm down. He’s sure Randy has a good reason. He'd better have a good reason.
Mickey walked past and saw Dewey and Gale interrogating a poor guy on a phone. They looked panicked. Mickey didn't know why.
They looked like they just got a call from Ghostface and was running looking for anyone on a phone.
Why, though?
Mickey sure as hell isn’t on call, he kills not calls. That’s Nancy’s job as she didn't want to get her own hands dirty.
It’s not like Nancy called without telling Mickey, right? It’s not time, for the last phase of the plan just yet.
Why isn’t Randy with Gale and Dewey, Gale’s camera man was somewhere else.
Mickey glared at them. He isn’t here for those old people away.
He’s here for Randy.
Mickey walked, not paying attention to anything other than the grass crunch beneath his boots and the occasional chirp of a bird. Mickey looked around.
Then he reached the end gate.
Did Randy lie to him? Did he lie and go to some random chick? Dare he say Sidney?
Not Sidney, Sidney is faithful. She wouldn’t do that to Derek. So, some random chick.
Which just pissed Mickey off even more.
Mickey then walked up to the camera van, and he felt something crack under his boot.
Gale’s phone.
Why wasn’t it on her? Then Mickey looked up at the van. It shook and rattled, any other person probably would’ve thought someone was getting it on but Mickey saw that flash of black robe.
Without a second thought, he tried the door: Locked. Damnit.
Mickey went to the passenger side window beating at the edges; the weakest points. The middle is the strongest.
Mickey felt pain in his knuckles but it was overrun by the need to see what the fuck was happening.
Why did these damn windows have to be so tough?
Finally, after Mickey’s knuckles cracked and bled, the window cracked. The van stopped moving but Mickey didn't.
He kept on making a bigger and bigger crack until the window finally shattered. Then the sound of a van door opening and Mickey looked and came face to face with the cursed mask.
He scowled. Nancy had enough sense to know even with the knife, she wouldn’t win and she then ran out. Not before Mickey snagged a part of the robe.
Nancy fell on her wrist which made a horrible crack but she still ran from the scene.
Mickey looked inside and his heart stopped for the first time.
Randy could definitely be doing better.
He was conscious. Mickey acted fast getting into the van, and he cradled Randy to his chest like a precious treasure.
Mickey tore a large portion of his shirt off, the sound of fabric ripping filled the van, over Randy’s ragged breaths.
Mickey’s hands shook like never before as he used bits of his shirt to stop the bleeding in horrible places.
Mickey put Randy beneath his chin, as he reached out to grab Gale’s broken phone and called a number he never thought he would ever call.
911.
Mickey just said the address and what happened. He held Randy tightly. Murmuring sweet words about how Randy can make it. He’s strong, he can survive.
Mickey tried not to pay attention to the deep gashes that spread across Randy’s stomach and chest. The gashes bled and soaked through Randy’s clothes.
Effectively staining the clothes, but they were also ruined by the knife marks.
Mickey almost actually hissed at Gale and Dewey and Gale’s cameraman when they got too close. If looks could kill all three would be in pieces.
Mickey held Randy close until the first responders pried Randy from Mickey’s arms.
They were getting Randy stable and on the way to the hospital. Mickey begrudgingly gave the police a statement and Mickey was covered in blood, his shirt; now tattered and in ruins.
Mickey couldn't care less he just up and left, on his way to the hospital.
…
Mickey got stared at but that was the least of his worries as he stared at his boots, scraping against the sidewalk.
He should’ve been more watchful. Then again, how was he supposed to know Nancy would go rogue?
He should’ve been prepared… He’s smarter than this. He feels so stupid.
Randy wasn’t a part of the script. He was never meant to be put in harm's way unless a small gash from protecting someone. Sure.
But not like what happened.
Mickey pulled at his hair with a strangled groan.
He doesn't even think he wants Nancy’s money anymore.
He’s never turned down money, he’s always done what needed to be done to pay the bills.
But… Randy fucking Meeks, is making Mickey question with these damn feelings Mickey still doesn't even want to acknowledge.
Why can’t they go away? Or switch like emotions but no. They gotta stick with you. Always.
Mickey doesn't know what he’ll do to Nancy if Randy dies. And he’s sure Nancy is praying for herself. Over this now.
Mickey finally looked up once the brightly lit hospital came into view.
He was gonna have to wait a while.