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Corporal Dwayne Hicks looked on as the other jar heads critiqued the civilians among them. The man was obviously a company fink, likely with a scam or plot to advance himself in the corporation ranks. The woman...
When he looked at the woman, looked into her eyes, he saw something there. No, it wasn't something he saw, but something missing. There was a lack of connection, an isolation from the rest of the humans around her that went even deeper than even that which separated the artificial persons from the teams they served.
It made him wonder just what demons haunted her as he headed into the showers.
`~`~`~`~`
Ellen Ripley listened to the lieutenant give his statements on the mission they were facing. She watched the crowd of mostly young, but obviously seasoned, marines deride him and dismiss every word coming out of his mouth.
She stood up, braced them, tried to lock down the intensity of the emotions that still overwhelmed her when she thought about Dallas, about Kane...about any of her friends that had died because of just one of those creatures.
As she spoke, her eyes kept coming back to the young, quiet corporal. He paid attention, even when he laughed or smiled at his comrades' antics. He listened. He looked at her; saw the fear, the need to make this right.
And he seemed to even understand.
`~`~`~`~`
Standing with Apone, Hicks had new reason to inspect the civilian expert. She had stood by a few minutes, watching the jar heads busting their tails, getting everything ready for the 'bug hunt' and growing increasingly agitated. Hicks saw the isolation at war with the human basic need for companionship. Some judicious questioning towards Bishop had led Hicks to the information that this woman was stranded as much by what she had seen as by time itself. He could not fathom what it would be like to wake up a full two generations from going into the meat lockers.
He saw the set of her jaw, watched the need to show them up come to the fore as she made the power loader work for her with a smooth finesse. More and more, Hicks approved of what he saw in her, of the fight to overcome her past.
`~`~`~`~`
Ripley was afraid. Not for herself. No, her fear was for the colony, for these marines. Let Hudson boast of weapons. Let Vasquez and Drake make their jokes about nothing being too much for their smart guns to handle.
One of those things had destroyed everything she had held dear. Her friends' lives, her ship, her future, her family...all gone. She had nothing, was drifting alone in the dark still, despite no longer being in cryo-sleep.
Her eyes fell over the corporal, watched as he slept peacefully despite the turbulence surrounding their drop ship. It made her wonder how he had found such calm, considering the violence of his life.
She even wondered if he could teach that calm to her, to quiet the fears of their future, and of her own failings.
`~`~`~`~`
Hicks had not truly known until after the fact why he used his weapon to knock Vasquez's off-target. As it fully processed, he had tried to reach the child, and been bit for his efforts. That was nothing compared to what Ripley risked without even thinking of the consequences. She was after the child with a desperation that denied all logic.
All logic save that of a human survivor of something so terrible as to require sedation in cryo-sleep to ward off nightmares. Hicks watched her, tracked them as best he could. He was the one that saw the new light in her eyes. Where Ripley had been denied the saving of a colony, she now had a mission to save that colony's only survivor.
Hicks watched as every touch, every word bound Ripley to the child, and wondered if the pair of survivors would both fall into the isolation...or rise above it.
`~`~`~`~`
The urge to flee had been strong. With Newt to protect, with Burke and Gorman as witnesses to restore her credibility, who could honestly have blamed her, had she thrown the APC into getting them back to Hadley and the drop ship.
That would have left the lives of those brave marines on her head, their blood drenching her nightmares with further detail she did not need.
Truthfully, she made the only choice her humanity would allow her. As she met Hicks' eyes, she read a deep gratitude in them, as well as an understanding of what might have been a choice for anyone willing to stay cut off from humanity by fear and loss.
She had chosen more than survival, and the alien that had killed her crew was not going to take that away from her.
`~`~`~`~`
Hicks knew just when he became aware that Ripley would be part of his life when, not if, they made it off this rock. It wasn't when they exchanged first names. It had not even been earlier, when he reached the same conclusions she had, that the nukes were the only way to save humanity from itself by trying to study these things.
It came in giving her the lessons of the Marine's first choice in weapons, the pulse rifle with its grenade action and flame thrower.
As he showed her, his hands moving over the weapon with practiced familiarity, he felt the heat off of her, felt the anticipation of the survival instincts coursing through her skin and nerves. Her demand to know all she could of the weapon wedded them to a course that was meant for mutual survival.
It was no accident that his hand lingered in brushing hers as he passed over the weapon. That small touch held more promise than any words could. They would make it through this.
`~`~`~`~`
Ripley knew, without even asking, that Hicks felt the same way she did, when Newt fell into the tunnels. He had lost his team, had suffered the same catastrophic feeling of failure to protect them as she had faced as her team was annihilated aboard the Nostromo.
She knew that Bishop would rescue them, but, come hell or oblivion, he was going to rescue man, woman, and child. Or else.
`~`~`~`~`
As Bishop slid the needle home, bringing the numbing sedation of neo-morphine, Hicks looked forward to the oblivion of cryo-sleep. He only wished, before his mind took leave of his body, he could have reassured Ripley that he would be there for her when she woke this time.
`~`~`~`~`
Ripley gave Newt the reassurances she needed, trying to help the child into a restful state of mind. Hopefully, Newt would not dream as the cryo-sleep wrapped its merciful nothingness around her.
It was as she double checked Hicks that she let herself tremble, for just a moment. She wanted to reach out, to touch his face one more time, before she laid down in the other tube. Just to know he was really there, and to give herself the chance to dream of a future free of the monsters.
Maybe...maybe she would not be alone again.