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For Him

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Title: For Him

Author: Marblez

Fandom/Genre: Shameless USA

Relationship(s): Mickey Milkovich/Ian Gallagher, Mandy Milkovich/Lip Gallagher, Fiona Gallagher/Tony Markovich

Content Rating: R

Warnings: Slash, Het, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Language, Homophobia, Racism, Past Child-Abuse, Minor Character Death, Teen/Underage Pregnancy, Abortion (referenced)  

Summary: The world ended on a Tuesday. It didn’t explode. There wasn’t a nuclear war. It didn’t get hit by a meteor. Hell, it wasn’t even anything to do with the dreaded “global warming.” It ended because of an alien invasion. Yup. Actual fucking aliens.

A/N: Whilst I am trained in ‘First Aid’ I am neither a doctor or nurse so please excuse any medical inaccuracies which might arise throughout this story. I’m also British and sadly have never travelled to America so there’s probably going to be some cultural mistakes as well. Sorry. X


~ Prologue ~


The world ended on a Tuesday.

It didn’t explode.

There wasn’t a nuclear war.

It didn’t get hit by a meteor.

Hell, it wasn’t even anything to do with the dreaded “global warming.”

It ended because of an alien invasion.


Actual fucking aliens.

“Ain’t no way I’m letting no fucking aliens take over my brain!” his dad had slurred angrily when the aliens had come for them that afternoon, knocking on their front door and actually asking to be let in. “Fuck off!”

Normally he would have muttered something in response, something like “who’d fucking want to take over your brain” but instead he kept silent.

The end of the world was anything but a normal situation.

Instead he’d copied his father, reaching down to grab one of the many weapons lying ready to use on what had once been his mothers coffee table.

Beside him his two older brothers did the same.

His sister picked up the machete of all things.

When the aliens finally resorted to breaking down their front door it took the four of them less than five minutes to “eliminate the threat” with the practised efficiency that came from years of “everyday” violence.

“They’ll send more. Pack your shit – we need to get out of here.”

It was while he was stuffing his things into an old army kit bag that he discovered the navy blue hoodie that was far cleaner and far softer than anything else he owned…because it wasn’t his.

“Fuck…” he hissed, pulling the hoodie out quickly. “Gallagher…”

Pulling the hoodie on over his filthy tank top he set about arming himself with as many weapons as was physically possible before rushing out of his bedroom, dragging the stuffed kit bag behind him.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” his dad demanded gruffly from where he was re-loading his favourite rifle.

“Need to check up on a friend…” he muttered, rubbing self-consciously at the corner of his mouth with the side of his thumb. “Won’t take long…”

His dad scoffed.

“What the fuck for?”

He shrugged, keeping his mouth shut out of fear that his father would see straight through any lit he managed to come up with.

It wasn’t like he could tell him the truth, was it?

Sorry, dad…just want to go check up on the guy I’ve been fucking for over a year…make sure he’s not been turned into an alien…


Not fucking likely.

His dad would shoot him quicker than he’d shot the aliens.

“…not gonna wait for you, boy.”

“Don’t need to. I know my way to the hunting cabin.”

His dad’s expression gave nothing away at having his plan guessed.

It was obvious really.

The family hunting cabin was years old, had been won in an illegal poker game and was very much in the middle of nowhere. It was hidden away in a dense area of woodland, the cabin blending in with the trees around it.

They’d be able to hide out there for a good few months.

Turning to his only sister he shoved the bag filled with his belongings in her hands, muttering something about taking it to the cabin for him before he all but sprinted out of the house.

Taking the quickest route to the Gallagher house he arrived just in time to see a group of those fucking aliens breaking down the front door and forcing their way into the house.

“Oh, hell no…”

Arming himself with a pistol in each hand he sprinted around the side of the building and all but launched himself up the back stairs, throwing his entire weight against the back door so that it flew open with a loud bang.

Fiona was screaming, fighting against an alien for custody of the little black kid who was screaming just as loudly as his big sister.

Mickey put a bullet in the aliens head without a second thought.


It wasn’t his Gallagher that called out to him, it was the older one.


He was struggling with one of the aliens, desperately holding the thing against one of the dirty walls of the Gallaghers front room with one hand as his other hands scrabbled around for a weapon.

Mickey pressed one of the pistols he was using into the other guys hand before rushing through the front room to deal with the alien that was trying to drag the annoying female Gallagher out of the front door.


Four shots later and he had his arms full of sobbing teenager no matter how much he tried to push her off of him, locking her arms around his waist as she pressed her face into the dirty t-shirt covering his chest.


“It’s a good thing you came when you did…”

“Where’s Gallagher?” he demanded, turning to face the eldest of the dysfunctional family with the hysterical one still attached to his chest, snatching a bloody kitchen knife off of the little psychopath before he could do any harm to any of the humans. “Ian. Where’s Ian?”

“ROTC camp…” Fiona whimpered weakly. “Oh God…”



His Gallagher wasn’t there!

He wasn’t safe!


“We need to get out of here…” Lip muttered, pulling Debbie away from the ex-con and into his own arms, stroking his hand across the back of her head as she continued to tremble from head to toe. “Fuck…this is insane…”

“No kidding. Look, my dads heading out to his hunting cabin,” he told them, worrying his bottom lip with his tobacco stained teeth. “Pack up some of your shit and I’ll take you there.”

“Who knew I’d ever be grateful to know a fucking Milkovich…” Lip muttered with a mirthless grin.

Mickey grunted.

For a moment all Fiona could do was blink, obviously still trying to catch up with everything that had happened before she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and started barking out orders to her siblings.

“Debbie, pack up yours and Liam’s clothes for me but remember you’ve got to carry it. Lip – can you grab anything that might be useful? Carl…”

Tuning out the rest of the frenzied conversation Mickey stepped out onto the front porch, keeping an eye of for any more of those things while the dysfunctional family hurried to pack up their things behind him.

It was as he was keeping watch that he noticed someone sprinting along the pavement and for a moment he allowed himself to hope that it was…but as he watched the figure get closer and closer his hopes were dashed.

It wasn’t his Gallagher.

It was Tony.

As the sandy haired man slowed down as he approached the Gallagher house, his face flushed from the exertion, Mickey remembered Ian telling him how the cop had always had a thing for Fiona Gallagher.

“Mickey?” Tony panted, holding his side tightly. “What are…”

“You one of those freaks?” Mickey demanded sharply, bringing his pistol up quickly and aiming it at the other mans head.

“No. No, I’m just me…” Tony replied quickly. “Look at my eyes if you don’t believe me. No weird light. I promise.”

Mickey motioned for him to approach.

Squinting at the other mans eyes he searched his eyes for the weird glow that he’d noticed coming from the aliens eyes earlier.


Tony, the cop, was still human.

“Are the Gallaghers all right?”

“They’re packing,” Mickey grunted, trying not to show how much his heart was aching within his chest as he continued. “But…not Ian…he’s away with that fucking army shit he does so…so they’ve probably already got him…”

His stomach clenched.



“Tony?” Fiona gasped from behind Mickey, rushing out to throw her arms around the man who was hopelessly in love with her. “Oh My God it’s so good to see you…”

Mickey shifted uncomfortably.

He wasn’t good with public displays of emotion; they didn’t exist in the Milkovich household as far as his dad was convinced.

Emotions made you weak.

Emotions were for pussies.

That was why he’d never had the nerve to tell Firecrotch that…that he…that the feeling was mutual…

He cleared his throat loudly.

“You ready to go, woman, or are we just gonna wait around for more of those things to show up?” he demanded gruffly.

Fiona nodded sharply, stepping back.

“Where are you going?” Tony asked worriedly.

“Terry Milkovich has a hunting cabin. Mickey’s going to take us there…” Fiona answered softly. “Have you…have you got a plan?”

“I…no…no, I don’t…”

Mickey sighed.

His dad was going to fucking kill him…

“Then you’d better come with us…” Fiona announced calmly, pulling the handsome cop inside the messy house. “You can help carry the food.”

And that was how Mickey found himself sneaking out of Chicago with every Gallagher kid other than the one he came for and a fucking cop.


It was definitely the end of the world.

~ * ~