ADAGIO


"Corporal Hicks?"

Hicks begins to awaken to a world of pain. He feels heavy and worn. His skin feels numb and the air smells like death and vomit. Somewhere in the distance he can hear noises, but they're too quiet for him to make out anything. He opens his eyes, finding a man sitting in front of him.

"My name is Harold Anders, Corporal," he man introduces himself with an irritating nasal voice that hurts his ears.

Hicks feels sick, but he also feels fear. This isn't how it was supposed to go, so something bad must have happened. He tries to move, but his muscles punish him immediately, by aching and acting unresponsive.

"Take it easy now. Your journey here wasn't easy," Anders continues, leaning over his knees. Hicks doesn't like him at all; he can tell that this self-serving piece of shit is just the type of person, who didn't think twice about sending the colonists to examine the alien crash site.

"Where am I?" Hicks asks, coughing immediately after the words leave his lips.

He really feels like he's been through a meat grinder. It's then that he remembers the acid and raises his hand over his chest and his face. He can feel wet and irritating gauze beneath his fingers, but the skin is numb. He's probably too heavily medicated.

"Somewhere you should get the fuck out as soon as you can, Corporal," Anders replies, beginning to show his true colors. That smug expression on his face, that grin tells Hicks this is the kind of man, who likes being the king of a sad little hill in the middle of nowhere without disturbance. Anders is bald and middle-aged. He looks like he has sat behind a desk for most of his life, taking orders and believing blindly in the Company.

"This," Anders says, standing up, "Is Fiorina 161 and we house some of the more deranged and dangerous double-Y chromosome inmates you've seen. The inmates politely refer to this place as the asshole of known space."

So Sulaco had gotten lost from its course to freedom, Hicks deducts. Somehow fate has introduced them to yet another punch in the gut. In his muddled mind he recalls grabbing someone as the lights went berserk. Ripley, he realizes.

"Where's she?" Hicks almost spits out. His tongue feels swollen, making talking harder.

"Lieutenant Ripley is recovering from the crash, isolated. I can't have a woman walking around inmates that haven't a woman in years. I'm sure you'll appreciate the courtesy."

The more Anders speaks, the more Hicks feels the urge to punch him in the face. This small man enjoys using power and will probably do anything to get them out of here as soon as possible. He can also tell Anders has little respect for Ripley and thinks he's speaking to the person in charge. This amuses Hicks, because he knows how wrong Anders is, but he decides to say nothing in hopes that it'll keep Ripley safer somehow.

"The other female in your escape pod is dead. Drowned in cryo sleep, poor thing," Anders laments, and Hicks' heart nearly stops for a minute. He recalls reaching for the girl in the chaos, and seeing her float, inanimate in her cryotube. The image haunts him more than he expected, but he felt responsible for her and still does. None of this makes sense.

"Pain?" Hicks asks, trying to force himself calm.

"She died in her sleep. You'll have to ask Doctor Clemens for more data," Anders answers, uninterested in the subject.

He stands in front of Hicks, evaluating him with his eyes. Anders sees a broken man in front of him. Clemens' estimate of the acid burns is most likely correct; they will scar Corporal Hicks for life and if he'd been handsome before, he looks more like a monster now.

"I have been informed by Lieutenant Ripley that we are to cremate the girl. Some disease, she suspects." Anders' contempt is clear in his voice; this man perceives Ripley as a threat, and probably with good reason. Men in higher positions have been destroyed by her.

Hicks makes an attempt to get up, but the drowsiness of the drug-induced haze keeps his body from responding. Anders looks at him with pity now. A patriot like him probably respects the soldiers injured in the line of duty and sees this as a waste of potential.

"I will have someone escort you the furnace when the time comes, Corporal. Until then you should rest and let Mr. Clemens' cocktail relieve your pains."

With that Anders walks away, and Hicks is left alone in the dark room. The field bed he's resting on feels uncomfortable and he can tell he'll need a new set of clothes when he gets out of this bed, but he's alive. For a moment there he can almost remember the crash clearly; how he pulled Ripley out in his wake and saw Newt for the last time, but never quite stopped to wonder why the glass of Ripley's cryotube was broken.


The long walk to the furnace feels like an eternity. Hicks' body still feels heavy, but by now the heavy medication has made room for more rational thought and the inability for finer motor control skills has dissolved. The doctor gave him a localized shot for the pain, numbing his chest, but also finding the scar tissue on his face on the fast track to healing. Hicks had refused pain medication for his face, needing some control. He could shut out the pain, but he needed to be ready for anything.

Now as he passes the inmates, who fiddle their rosaries and whisper obscenities because of his scarred appearance, he can see why Anders doesn't want them here. This prison is full of doomsday cultists, who deserve hell for their crimes. Civilized people do not belong here. These rapists and murderers are no different from the aliens that killed his comrades. The quicker they get out of here, the better.

The doctor gave him a fresh set of clothes similar to the inmates, but his unshaven head and straight back betray him as an outsider. The crash cut his face and arms, but the acid burns are worse. Looking at these lost souls, Hicks wonders if he'll have a chance at a normal life ever again. It's such a long way home.

He follows Anders' second hand man, who introduced himself as Aaron. Hicks doesn't find him to be the brightest bulb in the mix and wonders how such a simple man has survived in this environment. They don't chat, for even Aaron seems to think that their presence here only serves to stir trouble, but Hicks also contributes his silence to his new face. He's become as attractive as the aliens he hunted and he's looked upon with the same kind of mixture of fear and curiosity. Yet he doesn't mind this; he's not here to make friends.

Most of the prisoners are already at the furnace, curious about their visitors, when Hicks arrives. Ripley is standing close to the ledge that opens the view to the fire. She looks tired and when she turns to look at him, he can see her bloodshot eye and the pain it withholds. She doesn't greet him or move closer to him, and he doesn't need her to. This is the time for grief, not reunion.

Warden Anders steps forward to say a few words, but they are clumsy and give no solace to the woman, who saved and cared for this child like her own. Only one part of his words rings true: that Rebecca won't have to feel any pain anymore. She had been through the worst nightmares and died to what was hopefully a peaceful dream of a better future. Ripley's eyes fill with tears as Newt's body falls into the fire. Hicks looks onward, a tear glimmering in his eyes as well.

One of the inmates, a black man with glasses and a gentle voice, continues Anders' ceremony with grace and ease. His god is not a forgiving and loving god, but he welcomes Rebecca all the same, according to the inmate. The girl's body is devoured by the flames completely and there aren't any words left. Anders looks at Hicks with that same despicable look, as if demanding for answers, but Hicks ignores him as the smaller man passes him by.

The elegy continues in silence, as the inmates slowly begin to leave until only Hicks, Ripley and the doctor remain. Ripley's nose is bleeding, and the doctor seems curious and concerned about this fact. He is probably the only civilized person within these harsh walls, but Hicks hesitates to trust him. Terror has a way of making beasts out of even trained soldiers, so why not a seemingly harmless doctor, who is shepherding these despicable criminals?

Hicks closes in on Ripley, tugging at her arm. "Let's go," he says with a voice tainted by grief.


They are isolated from the general population in the infirmary; this is for their own safety according to Anders, but Hicks suspects there's more to this story. He can tell that the doctor looked bothered when he was called away awhile ago. He can sense that something is coming. The peaceful quiet is just an illusion that he desires after the chaotic events at LV-426.

Ripley is in the bathroom, shaving her head because of the lice problem in Fiorina. Hicks is next. He's been avoiding confronting himself in the mirror, because it's only then that the burns will become reality. It's only then that he'll see and know the true extent of his injuries. The aliens have left their mark in him, just like they've done to Ripley, but with him the result is mostly physical, whereas with her the scars are dug deeper into her psyche, unseen by others.

He knows she's strong, but his gut is screaming at him to take charge before she breaks. There's only so much loss that woman can take anymore, and he's quite certain she's approaching her limit. The people who were meant to protect her fell apart all around her and she clung onto Newt, fighting to get them both to safety. Lesser humans would've given up. Now her gaze has grown hollow. There is no safety for a child such as Newt, or for them, in a world where the aliens still exist.

Hicks can feel the scars on his chest aching. His hand feels like it's on fire as well, forcing him so swallow more painkillers that the good doctor gave him. He needs to keep up his strength, and stay by Ripley if she's to lose her mind because of this madness. She seems different now, uncaring and unresponsive almost; he's attributed the change to the trauma and loss she's been through.

But deep down he suspects there'll be hell to pay for the decisions made on LV-426. The Company sure as hell didn't want them to bomb their billion dollar colony and a newly terraformed planet back to its barren glory. Hicks also suspects that Burke wasn't alone in his ambitions, so he'll definitely need to keep his cool when the time of reckoning arrives. Unlike Ripley, he's bound by contract, which he broke.

Ripley steps out of the bathroom, heaven shaven and dark rings around her eyes. Perhaps it's the lightening that makes her look leaner and rundown, or perhaps it's just her mood creeping to the surface. She has no one to act tough in front of anymore. Yet there is something feminine in her this and this is only highlighted by the saggy clothes and her fine features. She looks more beautiful now than she did when they first met.

Ripley looks at him, void of emotion. "They are coming for us," she tells him softly, her voice reeking of danger. Obviously this means the Company.

"How far off are they?" Hicks asks, sitting on a bed, uncomfortable in the prison clothes they gave him. He feels bare, unprotected by the heavy fabrics. His fingers are itching to touch his chest, to tear the ugly skin from his flesh and push. Such self-destructive thoughts are not in his nature, but the guilt of survival is beginning to catch up with him.

Ripley purses her lips for a moment, before she answers, "If we're lucky they'll be here in a week." She doesn't smile. Warden Anders' rescue party isn't here to save them. They'll use them to gain intelligence on the events on LV-426 and then begin relentless chase after the aliens, their so called perfect organisms. Many more will die and they'll be condemned in the process.

Hicks sits up and walks over to her. He doesn't like her tone of voice. So when they stand face to face and she lifts up her chin almost defiantly, he begins to feel uneasy. This doesn't ring true to the woman, who he placed his trust in and was ready to follow to hell. "It's not your fault she's dead," he tells her grimly, yearning to console her.

She looks up at his scarred face and those familiar intensive eyes look back at her, unyielding. "There was an alien on board," she snaps, speaking her doubts aloud. This drains the last trace of ease from him.

"Are you sure?" he asks, as if asking her not to toy with this. He wants peace and serenity, a dead calm so he can finally face the horrors they lived through together. Hicks isn't ready for another fight this soon.

Ripley hesitates seemingly, abandoning her shaky proof, because she can feel the truth in her gut. No one is safe – Not until everything that's touched those creatures is burned to crisp and no one remembers them. They'll remain hidden in the black as long as they're not disturbed. She'll bury them in the coffin of anonymity.

He can tell something is boiling within her and he places his hand on her shoulder, his fingers touching skin that her loose top doesn't cover. She feels heated and tense. Hicks repeats his earlier words, "Ripley, look at me. It's not your fault that she's dead."

And they gaze at one another as his words penetrate her defenses once again. She's lost everything that matters, so all she has left is making sure these tragedies aren't repeated. He believes she wants there to be another alien she can fight, because she cannot handle a hollow victory. Hicks places his other hand on her cheek, feeling her skin with his rough fingers that were burned by acid. The touch feels more intimate than it should and it forces her to listen to his words.

Her voice is soft when she speaks for the next time, "I watched as the doctor cut her open. I had to know she how she died." His touch feels so good, so true. Even as Hicks is disfigured by the acid she can feel that same connection she felt back on LV-426. If there ever was to be another man in her life, she'd imagined it would've been him.

"You did well, Ripley," Hicks whispers and now both his hands frame her face. "You needed to see it. Rebecca didn't feel a thing." He's consoling her now; unaware that this is the second daughter she has lost. But Ripley knows this all too well. She's no good to anyone and her fate seems tied to the monsters whether she wants it or not.

Yet there's light within her; A small spark of desire that Hicks can bring out. Now that they're finally alone she can reflect on it and recognize it. This time she isn't a sole survivor who needs to carry the burden alone. And she needs the comfort he's giving her. "We need to be sure," she pleads to him, tilting her head slightly as the loving gaze of Hicks' is wearing her down. "We still don't know what brought Sulaco down."

Hicks holds her steady though, forcing her to look at him: The scars that cover his left cheek and ear and force his left eye only half open. He doesn't have an eyebrow anymore and burnt skin continues all the way to his neck. "I cared for her too," Hicks says, reaffirming that the pain isn't hers alone. "Keeping her safe was also my responsibility."

And Ripley doesn't deny it. His men were supposed to exterminate the aliens and save Hadley's Hope, yet only Hicks survived, leaving Ripley to save Newt alone and battle the queen. Her reason tells her not to blame him, but some primal part of her does. It only feeds the maelstrom within. "We both failed," Ripley admits and touches his burnt hand by laying hers on top of it and then removing it from her cheek. She places the hand first on her chest and then slides it over her breast.

He can feel the softness and warmth beneath his injured hand and surprise spreads through him. His expressions are no longer as clear as before, but she can read as much. Ripley brings her hands behind his neck and leans closer to kiss him. Nothing feels the same as it used to, but she's special in his eyes, so when she kisses him he can feel it all over. Even his numb skin that no longer feels anything seems to shiver in excitement.

She helps him remove his shirt while he holds still. He's bandaged all over and the dressings look dirty, but she doesn't mind them. This is something she should've done before they docked on LV-426. Something she should've done when they first shared an understanding and she felt like she had an ally. Now they are both ruined and worn, but it doesn't make this any less important.

Ripley removes her shirt as well and her skin is bruised, but healthy for the most part. Compared to him, she got off lightly. But Hicks doesn't mind the battlescars anymore. She doesn't shun them, so it's enough. He'd do it all again, just to keep her safe.

There's no one else in the infirmary when they lay down on the nearest bed and she allows his partially bandaged hand to touch her everywhere. They grieve together as tears and pain are present in their lovemaking. Pleasure only comes after awhile, once the guilt and anger is pushed aside. She handles him like a fragile man she could break, knowing that the painkillers have dulled his senses and made him slow. And the anxiety builds inside her patiently. It fills her until she's full and overflowing.

Hicks' face is distorted by pain as he moves inside her, eyes cast on hers. Ripley tries to kiss that pain away, to move and give him the same pleasure he's giving her. It's just too far away and more he tries, the more his wounds open up and the touch of the devil begins to burn again. Knowing she can see inside him, Hicks closes his eyes to give her the release he cannot find anymore. She moans with a husky voice and shivers while his arms hold her steady.

She's panting, trying to get some air now that everything's spinning. Hicks simply holds her closer, hiding his own pain from her, as his head rests on her shoulder. Tears run down her face, but his is covered with a strange mix of desperation and love. This is all he can give her but maybe it is enough? If needed he'll give his life for her, as he feels it has already happened and they are merely catching on a moment too late.

Hicks strokes the back of her head affectionately and feels the way Ripley crushes him in her arms. He doesn't say a word. This is their sanctuary for a few moments until the nightmare begins again.

-fin