Cold Heart

Family memories should incite feelings of happiness and contentment. It should leave you smiling stupidly when you think of the first time you baked cookies with your mom or when your dad taught you to ride a bike. But for me, there were no sweet moments or fuzzy fondness. By the time I was five, I saw my father's second Alec more than I saw either of my parents. When I was six, I watched my father beat a man to death for insubordination. And when I was eight, my father talked to me at length about the family business and where my place would be.

So as I trudged my way from the observation room to my quarters, I did so with the weight of those soul-sucking years gnawing away at my insides. I had reservations about this job from the very beginning, but learning of dear dad's involvement turned those little niggling doubts into open festering wounds. And with my mind so wrapped up in worry, I barely noticed where my feet were taking me until I plowed right into a solid wall of muscle.

"Damn, Pinkette." A familiar feminine voice chuckled. Hands braced my shoulders, and a surge of heat crept up my neck. "Were you coming to see me?" she continued. I shuddered, wishing I'd been paying more attention to where I'd been going.

Zeta, one of the security personnel, held me uncomfortably close. I remained immobile, unsure what to do. Normally, I do okay around other women, but Zeta had more testosterone than most men. She was a handsome woman with high cheekbones and thick black hair however her aggressive advances always left me frazzled. And she made sure her intentions towards me were perfectly clear every time we crossed paths. And the pet names! My god, the pet names were insufferable!

"I'm off duty in an hour." She pulled away and touched my chin. "We should grab a late dinner."

"I, uh," I stumbled over the words. Another person might've found Zeta's advances flattering but not me. It had nothing to do with sexual preference either, I just... I just didn't think about things like romance. Allowing people to get close was always a mistake.

Old memories, the kind you wished would stay dead and buried, surfaced. And I ran my hands over my scar-riddled arms and shivered.

Zeta misread my reaction. Mistaking it for one of pleasure I think. She laughed, and her thumb traced the scar along my jaw up to my ear.

It was too much. The familiar sting of vulnerability prickled my skin, and I jerked away. "Please stop that," I said anxiety making my voice pitchy. "I'm sorry, Zeta, but I-"

She seized my hand before I could flee. "Ah, Pink-Tink, you're so wound up." Her tone dropped an octave, "Lemme help you rela-"

Zeta paused midsentence, her eyes narrowing. My heart thumped at the sudden change in her demeanor. But after a nervous second or two, I noticed the absence of focus. Her gaze was distant, and her head tilted as if she were... I exhaled a silent breath through my nose in understanding. Zeta, like all security personnel, has a comm implanted in the base of her ear. And she confirmed this by absently nodding as she listened.

"Shit," she silently growled. After another beat, she released me and her hand went to the automatic weapon strapped to her thigh. "Lock it down!" she said tersely, and to my utter surprise she turned and sprinted in the opposite direction without so much as a backward glance.

Okay... weird.

Grateful for whatever issue had warranted Zeta's attention, I all but ran back to my quarters. Most security matters involved someone forgetting their badge which wouldn't take long to resolve. And unless I wanted an encore of our encounter, I needed to make myself scarce.

...

Back in my cell, I shed my bomber jacket and prepped a kettle. I eyed the tiny grey scaled flat I'd been assigned in distaste thinking for the umpteenth time how a plant or a painting might bring it some life only to talk myself out of it. I've never thought of this place as a home, this facility felt more like a prison, which made Aldridge and Zeta my jailers. And no plastic ficus or splash of color could ever change that perspective.

Home...

I rolled my eyes when my father's unexpressive face came to mind. The man never smiled... actually, that wasn't entirely true. Once when I was ten, I peeked into my parent's room and watched as my father embraced my mother with an expression of pure contentment. And I remember thinking how much I wished he would look at me that way. He loved my mother deeply. And that's when I learned that no matter how hard I tried there was simply no room in his heart for anyone else.

Out of reflex, my fingers traced the ugly permanent reminders of my past. The scars were years old and yet I felt a fresh wash of pain every time I touched them.

Just a chess piece...

The beckoning whistle of the kettle broke me from the downward spiral of my thoughts. I blinked noticing that while my mind had been absent, Styx had returned to her enclosure and was watching me through the crystal polymer wall that we shared. My insides jumped at her sudden appearance, a reaction I've somewhat managed to tame but not completely overcome. Xenomorphs are formidable stealth hunters. Though, I have noticed many of the young ones lack the discipline and tend to eagerly attack without forethought. Styx was this way too in the beginning. But she learned very quickly that not all prey could be taken down with speed alone.

I smiled at her, an expression I'm not sure she perceived through telepathy, but Styx always seemed to understand when I was happy to see her. Styx didn't wag her tail like a dog or anything, nor could I describe how I knew this other than I could sense it. Arching her spine, Styx stretched herself out and laid herself against the barrier separating us and patiently waited for me.

I took the hint and quickly poured the steaming water over some loose leaf tea. Mug in hand, I exited through the safety door connecting Styx's encloser to my cell.

Styx's head followed me, but otherwise, the Xenomorph didn't bother getting up. I sat down with my back pressed into the wall and rested my hand on her sloping skull. Her tail flicked once then curled at her side.

"I was worried about you today," I said while examining the bite wound in her carapace. I took care not to accidentally touch it because unlike the Howler, I didn't have a natural immunity to her acidic blood.

Styx exhaled and rested her jaw on my knee, her drool quickly soaking my pants. Xenomorphs tend to drool worse than St. Bernards do. But I didn't mind.

As I sat there with her, my thoughts returned to the unavoidable questions floating around inside my head. My eyes roved over the length of her powerful body, then away. I looked out across the lush greenery of Styx's pen and saw none of it.

Dad would never lift a finger to help with the war back on Earth. He makes to much money selling the tech needed to combat the Hives plaguing it. I took an absent sip of tea but set it aside when the warmth did nothing to take the edge off the cold spreading inside my chest. But then why would he get involved in a project where Xeno's could be trained to track and kill other Xeno's? The answer was obvious. He wouldn't. And I had a stomach-churning suspicion that I was being played.

"Styx..."

Styx lifted her head and her warm breath fanned my face.

"What do I do?" Even as I asked, I knew the answer. Styx's jaws opened with a low hiss. I gave her a weak smile, "I'll need to borrow some of your strength, my friend."

Closing my eyes, I leaned in and touched my forehead to the rounded dome of her still open maw. I had to protect her. I had to protect my family, my home. And I was so lost in the minefield of my thoughts that I barely registered the sudden jerk of Styx's head before she gave a low startling hiss.

"What is it, girl?" I asked thoroughly freaked. My gaze darted around the encloser, but I didn't see anything. Then again, I probably wouldn't see anything.

Styx scented the air and after a tense moment laid her head back down. Whatever she'd sensed must've passed otherwise she wouldn't've settled. I frowned. But if that were true then why was she still ready to leap into action?

A/N: Yes, I know it was a painfully short chapter but I'm just happy I was able to post something this week. And uh-oh, I wonder what's gonna happen next! ;) I can hardly wait! Thanx for the love!

Tenfangirl: Lmao! I know right! I seriously tried to decorate her room with alien and predator stuff but my husband kept whining at me. He's no fun. But I bought her a couple of alien and predator stuffies ;) And I can hardly believe how big she's gotten already! Anyway, thanx, Tenfangirl! Much love to you and yours! :)

KTCameleon: Ah, I didn't mean to bum you out. But I'm glad I can still surprise you. Thanx, KT! :)

angel897: No doubt about it! Big trouble! Thanx, angel :)

hellfire45: Thanx! There wasn't too much interaction between Styx and Blake this chapter. But Styx is definitely not the average Xeno. :)