I do not own Aliens.

Finished the prequels. My son is totally obsessed.

The Survivors of LV-426

The Psychology of Solitude

Nothing he likes less than having people who don't know him try to talk to him like they know him.

" . . . sleeping?"

People who don't actually care.

"I'm not. But you already know that."

People who haven't earned the right.

"Would you like to talk about your dreams?"

But apparently have the right . . .

"No."

. . . to restrict his right to walk the fuck out of here.

"Let's talk about something else then."

Goddammit.

Where's Vazquez with her flamethrower?

The psych eval is just as frustrating as the debriefing.

"How have you been sleeping? Any difficulties?"

"My medical records will tell you I am."

"I may be synthetic but I'm not stupid."

Neither am I, Bishop.

They've chosen the wrong person to try to fuck with.

"How are you managing during the day?"

"I would be better if I had something to do."

Drive a loader right over your head, for starters.

They've finally been released from their rooms during the day.

Free to move about parts of the facility.

The gym, the mess hall.

They're garbed in white clothing and shoes, like mental patients.

Hicks is bandaged, still healing.

"How does it feel?"

"Numb. I think the acid burned out the nerves."

She hasn't seen the acid burns on his chest though she does see him unconsciously scratch the area from time to time.

She imagines the scarred skin pulls.

And Newt, . . .

"Hey, you okay?"

"Mmmh."

. . . never seems to let go of her hand. Never stray far from her side.

"You sure?"

"Mmmh."

And Ellen Ripley's . . .

"Okay."

. . . okay with that.

There's a certain rhythm to military life.

He didn't necessarily like some of the other grunts.

So many had to run their mouths big and loud, shake their dicks to prove how tough they were.

Like Hudson.

Private First Class William Lawrence . . .

". . . thought they said 'llegal alien' and signed up!"

. . . Hudson.

Who knew he could say anything he wanted just because his tech/comm expertise made him as indispensable as a grunt could be.

Plus, Hicks also figured . . .

". . . grinnin' and drop your linen!"

. . . the guy was just born that way.

But Hicks hadn't signed on to like or dislike people.

And after all the dick swinging was over, they were a good squad, a well-oiled machine once they got rolling.

And he'd signed on to hunt some bugs.

So it was easy to just sit back . . .

"Somebody wake up Hicks!"

I'm up. Ready for a bug hunt.

. . . and listen to everyone else flap their jaws.

The other thing about the corp was that you're never alone, . . .

"Shut that shit up, Hudson. Jesus."

"Sorry, man, this girl's doin' some nasty stuff in my head you wouldn't believe."

. . . even when you wanted to be.

And now . ..

"Corporal Hicks, do you need anything?"

Some damn company.

"No. Thank you."

. . . it's so quiet and still.

"Okay. Good night."

"Good night."

Which is grating in and of itself.

It's required for each patient to stay in their room at night.

They're locked in at 2300 hours, standard procedure.

Ripley worries about Newt, stays awake sometimes imagining she hears her in the walls.

So when she feels a warmth next to her, the press of a little body against hers one night, she instinctively reaches out an arm and wraps it protectively around . . .

"Hey, where did you come from?"

"The vents. They don't seal them very well."

. . . the child's skinny form.

"Well, that's because they didn't know you were coming along."

Ripley smiles, near the edge of sleep.

Feeling immeasurably relieved to have the child close and safe again.

"Will you let me stay?"

"Of course."

And they both go back to sleep again.

". . . in her room."

The wardens, ahem, medical staff, are displeased.

"She's just a little girl. And she's been lonely and scared."

Ripley doesn't give a shit.

"It's protocol."

"Well, considering all she's been through, I say, fuck your protocol and let her sleep where she wants."

Just skirts a smile.

"She's just going to do it anyway."

And eventually . . .

"Goodnight, Ripley."

"Goodnight, Newt."

. . . they do.

It's redeeming and hilarious to me that when Bill Paxton (Hudson) read the script, he said, man, the fans are gonna be so happy when this character dies!"

XD

Anyway, thanks for reading!

And thanks for reviewing, RedHood001!

2 chapters left. And I will reveal that this story will conclude the way it has gone.

Subtle. No grand finale.

Because that's this story, the humanity aspect of these characters.

And who knows about future stories? Not me. I can't see past Wednesday, ha.