A/N:

The following story takes place after the events of 'Aliens', re-imagining an ending in which Vasquez, Hudson, Hicks, Ripley and Newt all survive and make it back safely to Gateway Station (aka, the way it should have ended).

Originally written as a stand alone story, I have since written a 'prequel' to this, called Survival, which is essentially the 'origin story' for what I think might turn into a small series. So, if you are interested in reading the first one first: s/13482869/1/Survival

Chapter One: Wake Up Call

As the cryopod slowly opened, Private Jenette Vasquez struggled to remember where she was. For a moment, all she could recall was the dream she had just woken from, the haunting image of Drake's acid-seared face still lingering in her mind, as real as the day that it had happened. As the nightmarish events of her time on LV-426 started coming back to her, she closed her eyes and shivered.

Waking up from cryo felt like a cross between a fever and a bad hangover. Post-thaw, her head always ached and she felt weak and chilled. Exceeding those discomforts was a persistent and throbbing pain still emanating from both of her legs, which had received severe acid burns from the blood of a xenomorph. While it had happened almost three weeks ago now, her lowered metabolic state in cryosleep meant that her body had been slow to heal itself.

In the two beds to her right were the only other remaining marines from their original team of twelve: Corporal Dwayne Hicks and Private William Hudson. All the others had perished, their bodies left behind on LV-426, only to be obliterated by the nuclear blast, their remains now mixed indiscriminately among colony debris and the alien filth that killed them.

Beside her, Private Hudson groaned as he opened his eyes. After barely surviving an alien attack, Hudson still looked like a mess. In nothing but his army boxer shorts, the squad leader and combat technician had bandages wrapped around his stomach, thigh and arm, his left hand bound in a makeshift splint. During one of their final battles with the aliens, he had been pulled down into the floor, presumed dead until he miraculously resurfaced with Ripley and Newt, just moments before their hectic departure. Vasquez had been surprised at just how grateful she felt when she discovered he was alive.

Hudson gazed over at her now and shook his head wearily, dark circles under his eyes. She wondered if she looked anywhere near as bad as he did.

"How you feelin', Hudson?" she asked him.

"Never better," he replied groggily, looking up at the ceiling. Then he turned to Hicks, who was making slow movements beside him. "That's a good look for you, man," he said to Hicks.

Corporal Hicks was heavily bandaged on his chest and face and had to turn his head all the way to the left to look at Hudson with his only good eye. He had been sedated for the entire duration of their departure and he now stared at Hudson, his mouth agape.

"Holy shit, you're alive," stated Hicks with an impressed smile, shaking his head in disbelief. "Bet that's one hell of a story!" He reached out his fist, grinning despite the obvious discomfort of the movement, and Hudson gave him a fist bump with his good hand.

"Hell yeah," Hudson replied. "And just wait 'till you hear what Ripley did," he added, nodding his head appreciatively in reference to Ripley's kick-ass moment with the power loader.

At the mention of Ripley, there was a noticeable change on Hicks' face and he glanced over in her direction. Ripley, in her grey underwear and tank top, was now sitting up, her feet dangling off the side of the bed, looking over at Newt who was waking up in the cryopod between her and Hicks.

Hearing her name, Ripley looked up. "Guess there's a lot to catch up on," she said with a pleasant smile and Hicks beamed at her.

"I'm just glad you're alright," Hicks admitted to her. "Both of you," and gave a little wink to Newt with his one eye.

With that, Hudson turned to Vasquez with raised eyebrows and a smirk. "Hicks is going for it," he mouthed to her silently and Vasquez chuckled. She had to admit, it was a relief to see that stupid smirk back on Hudson's face.

At that moment, two men entered the room, one wearing a military uniform and the other in a white lab coat. "Good morning everyone," said the uniform. "It's August 15, 2179, 0800 hours. The USS Sulaco has made safe dock here at Gateway Station. I trust you're all doing well this morning."

There was a brief silence before Hudson piped up. "That's not even funny," he said in annoyance, looking around at their dishevelled group. He turned back to Vasquez and mumbled in irritation, "Who's the new guy?"

Vasquez felt her face mirror Hudson's expression of annoyance, and she glared at the men in front of them. This was the part she had been dreading—how their debriefing of the events on LV-426 would go over with whatever stand-in superior they were handed. What she wouldn't give to see Lieutenant Gorman, that asshole, standing in front of them now. Gorman who she had hated, Gorman who had saved her life.

The Lieutenant shot a cold look at Hudson, and then at her. "I'm Lieutenant Clarke, Senior Officer aboard Gateway Station," the Lieutenant responded and then, motioning to his partner in the lab coat, "And this is Captain Bowens, Chief Physician and Head of Decontamination."

At the word 'decontamination,' Vasquez gave an audible groan, which was echoed by Hudson and even the generally well-mannered Hicks. They all knew the implications of the word. It meant quarantine; living in a sterile prison for an undisclosed amount of time.

"You've all been in contact with an unfamiliar species," said the Lieutenant and he looked at his colleague, "We estimate a week of quarantine will be required before you, or any items aboard this ship, can be declared safe to leave."

"Pardon me, Sir, but this is bullshit," moaned Hudson. He was now sitting up and clutching his stomach.

"Shut your mouth, Private, or I'll personally ensure that we double your time here," the Lieutenant shot back, stepping towards Hudson with a pointed finger. "You're all still Marines, and that's the protocol. Now, I need you all to understand the situation at hand here," he continued as he began pacing in front of them. "This mission has been deemed a catastrophic failure. An entire colony has been destroyed. Over a hundred civilians dead. And you three are all that's left of Second Battalion Bravo Team."

Vasquez snapped. "You think we don't know that?!" She heard herself yelling back, fuming at the Lieutenant's arrogance. She was standing up now, her injured legs burning underneath their bandages. In her mind she saw Drake's dying face, pained and suffering.

Lieutenant Clarke seethed and began walking towards her. "You got a problem with authority, Private?!" he yelled at her. She stood her ground as the Lieutenant approached quickly, his face red with ferocity, when Hudson suddenly jumped up in front of her.

"Hey, back off, man!" Hudson said wildly, seemingly triggered by Lieutenant's sudden aggression. Hudson appeared rattled, his eyes wide and threatened, his right hand in a fist that was poised to strike, his broken wrist in front of Vasquez to keep her back.

As the Lieutenant's face contorted with anger, Hicks also jumped up and began trying to diffuse the situation.

Vasquez was in a daze of fury, and for a split second she wondered whether this was real or whether there was any possibility that she was still asleep. She wanted to push Hudson out of the way and punch Clarke squarely between the eyes, but she resisted.

"Hey!" yelled Ripley loudly and Hudson and Hicks turned to her. "Hudson, sit down," she said calmly, "I'd like to have a word with the Lieutenant."

Looking stressed, Hudson stared at her, then the Lieutenant, then back at Vasquez.

Vasquez took him by the shoulders and led him backward until they were sitting side by side on the cryo bed, his bare back heaving as he breathed, his brows furrowed and his jaw set.

"Lieutenant Clarke, Captain Bowens," Ripley addressed the men, her arms crossed over her chest. The Lieutenant's face was still red with anger, but he looked back at Ripley and seemed receptive to what she was going to say, so she continued, "I'm sure that I don't need to tell you that the nerves of this crew are shot. I'm not exaggerating when I say that we've all experienced our share of trauma on LV-426."

As if on cue, Newt now jumped off her bed and ran up to Ripley and hugged her waist. Ripley picked up the girl and held her as she continued speaking, "This mission wasn't a failure. We destroyed a hive of hundreds of hostile aliens. We returned with our lives, and a survivor of the civilian colony." Ripley nodded at Newt, now in her arms. The girl's face was buried in Ripley's shoulder, only one of her eyes visible, staring at Clarke distrustfully. "What these marines need now is immediate medical attention, rest, and to be honorably discharged, not reprimanded."

Hicks put a hand on Ripley's shoulder in support and Hudson gave her a nod of appreciation. Vasquez couldn't help but marvel at the way Ripley could take charge of a situation, keeping her cool and using her language to communicate exactly what needed to happen. While so unassuming when they first met, Ripley now somehow possessed all the components of a complete badass. Vasquez respected that and she knew the others did too.

At this point, Captain Bowens spoke for the first time, "Lieutenant, perhaps I should take it from here." Bowens was taller than the Lieutenant, but seemed much more subdued, with a slightly anxious look about him. "I'll provide an update when everyone has been processed."

The Lieutenant appeared displeased but also increasingly disinterested, "Very well. But I want statements from all of them. Got that? Good luck with this outfit, Captain," and he gave a final disapproving look at them before eventually exiting.

"Well then," Bowens said with a sigh and an artificial smile, "First things first. I want to get you folks to medical, you're all looking a bit worse for wear." He stood in front of them nervously, scanning the group, "Who was overseeing medical care while you were aboard the Sulaco?"

"Corporal Dietrich, Sir, our field medic," Hicks responded solemnly, "But she fell in the line of duty."

Vasquez felt a pang of sadness. Despite their differences over the years, Cynthia Dietrich had been a close friend. Hudson looked down at the floor at the mention of their fallen teammate. Vasquez had always suspected there was a history of some kind between Dietrich and Hudson. Maybe one day she would ask him about it.

"After that, it was our Android, Bishop," Ripley stated. "And when he was damaged, I did my best." Then eyeing up Hudson's poorly splinted wrist, she added, "But I'm no doctor."

"Where is the android now?" Bowens asked and Ripley led him to a cryopod that had been on the other side of her own. On the bed, Bishop's figure was blurred by a semi-transparent bag in which he lay, decommissioned. Ripley carefully unzipped the bag and Bowens reacted with a surprised holler at the distressing state of the android. "Holy Crow!" he exclaimed.

Beside Vasquez, Hudson stifled a laugh at Bowens' choice of profanity and Hicks turned to them in surprise. "What happened to Bishop?" he asked.

Vasquez made a twisting, then ripping motion with her hands, in reference to Bishop's encounter with the alien.

"Oh shit," Hicks replied looking unnerved and Vasquez nodded grimly. She had always considered Bishop a part of the team and she was hopeful that he could be revived.

"Well, we will do our best to get him, uh, re-established," said Bowens. "In the meantime, why don't you all follow me and we'll head to the medical bay."

The crew was slow moving as they followed Bowens, all of them sore and exhausted. Quarantine protocol dictated that they couldn't take anything from the ship with them, so they remained barefoot and barely clothed.

Vasquez was having trouble walking. In addition to the intense pain she felt, her right leg seemed to give out whenever she put any weight on it. She suspected she had suffered some pretty extensive nerve damage and in the back of her mind, she knew that whatever medical examination was to follow, it might very well result in bad news about her future mobility and whether she would ever be able to serve in the Marine Corps again.

Hudson was limping from a wound above his knee, but seeing Vasquez struggle, he went to her side and took her arm, pulling it over his shoulder to help her walk.

"Thanks, man," she said somberly, looking up at him. He was almost a foot taller than her, so he had to hunch over slightly for her arm to reach around his neck. When he met her gaze, his expressive blue eyes seemed anxious, pain and stress apparent on his face, but then he flashed her one of his classic one-sided smiles and squeezed her hand that hung around his shoulder and they shuffled along, following the others.

.

The Decontamination Unit was kept separate from the rest of the station and contained the medical labs, some administration offices and the quarantine holding facilities, or 'living quarters' as Bowens referred to them.

Outside of the medical bay, they stopped in a corridor that had chairs lined up against one of the walls. Before being invited to sit, Hudson led Vasquez towards the closest chair and helped her into it.

She had been pretending not to notice how chivalrous Hudson was being towards her. In part, because she wasn't sure how she felt about it. It was clear that Hudson was trying to look out for her, but she wasn't certain whether she liked receiving that kind of attention from him, or whether it just made her feel weak.

Vasquez rubbed her legs tenderly around the bandages, feeling Hudson's eyes on her. She ignored him.

Bowens paced around the corridor, "So, if you folks want to wait here for a moment, we'll just get organized. It shouldn't take too long. Ah, Doctor Roberts, hi there."

A doctor with shoulder-length blonde hair had entered and smiled broadly at Bowens, "This must be her then," Doctor Roberts said sweetly and crouched down in front of Newt, who had just sat down in one of the chairs.

Vasquez watched as instantly Ripley stiffened. Alert and vigilant, Ripley turned to the doctor, "This is Rebecca Jorden, but she goes by Newt," she said simply, a frown on her face.

"Don't worry," said Doctor Roberts pleasantly, "I'm going to take good care of you, Rebecca."

A sudden tension filled the room as they each perceived an imminent threat. Hicks who had briefly sat down now stood up slowly and moved next to Ripley. Vasquez exchanged a wary look with Hudson.

"I'll take her now," said Roberts innocuously. "For tests and to get her statement."

Ripley almost laughed. "Oh no. She stays with me," she said adamantly.

Roberts seemed confused and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, this ward isn't set up for children, I'll be taking her to pediatrics."

Newt was now hiding behind Ripley. "Ripley, no!" she protested.

"Then Ripley can go with her there," Hicks said.

Ripley nodded fiercely. "She's not going anywhere alone with you people."

"We'll be needing her to make a statement on her own," Bowens said matter-of-factly, and Hicks stepped towards him threateningly.

At that moment, Roberts reached her hand out to Newt to try to take her by the arm, but Vasquez had hopped up and grabbed Roberts' arm instead, stopping her in her tracks. Hudson was next to her in an instant.

"You lay a hand on that kid, and you'll be fucking sorry," he said to Roberts menacingly.

Roberts looked startled, yanking her arm away from Vasquez. She gave a bewildered laugh glancing around at the four of them in front of her, all fiercely protective of Newt and willing to fight anyone to keep her in Ripley's care.

Bowens was looking baffled. "Well, I guess we can make some special accommodations in this case. I'm so sorry Doctor Roberts," he said with a nervous laugh. "Whatever happened to these folks on LV-426 has clearly done a number on them."