AN: Leaving this here at the beginning so you have some foresight on it.

If you have trouble reading this one or find it awkward, that's because it felt the same way when writing it (as much of this chapter was very experimental), and I'm not sure my edits did much to amend it. Primarily, I feel there's a fair bit of redundancy.

Either way, I hope you find something of merit in it.

"Love is composed of a single soul in two bodies." -Aristotle

Call it a curse or a blessing, Adrian often found himself half-lucid when asleep, if he would even go so far as to actually call it sleep. He himself was unsure whether to absolutely call it one or the other.

Frequently accompanying these strange bouts of semi-consciousness was an underlying discomfort while stuck in this limbo. As of now, this was the most pronounced he'd experienced it yet.

He wondered: How long had he been asleep? Every outside disturbance that had been strong enough to make its way through the barrier of unconsciousness and crept its way up his nervous system and into his confused mind only added to his apprehension. This fostered a sense of unease that was turning to fear. He knew his predicament, or at least as much his current state of mind would let him. The distorted images and ideas were there, though. The hunt, black as shining obsidian, rows of silver daggers, and a stabbing pain. This scarce set of clues was already worrying, so he tried to stitch the threads together for a larger image he could understand.

One primary detail stood above the rest in this echoing memory. But what was it called again? He searched every crevice of his foggy mind for the word. It was one he had been acutely aware of before this, but every time he had been about to remember it, it disappeared again. He would grit his teeth if he could; how could such a crucial detail elude him now? The growing frustration at his helplessness roused more of his clouded mind awake. Then it fell into place.

Xenomorph, the word finally came back to him with satisfaction… XENOMORPH, his mind screamed in realization. More images came back to him: a crimson room, burning blood, and the most jarring recollection of them; it had been a Xenomorph he had fought, and he wasn't dead. "You'll wish you would have." Richardson's warning voice from previous briefings in his memories reminded him well too late.

The revelation flooded him. Fear and panic raged at every level with such an intensity that he'd long believed himself grown enough to never have to deal with again.

Fate laughed, and it was drowning—choking. Wait, he actually was choking.

Something had invaded his esophagus and cut off his attempts to draw air into his lungs.

As the wracking waves of terror had forcibly dragged him awake by now, he was still, however, suspended in darkness as the choking continued. A return of motor functions did not provide any relief in his fight against this strangulation, which he had come to realize was terrifyingly real.

No matter how much he tried to struggle or free himself, life wanted him to know how powerless to its machinations he truly was.

Any attempt he made for salvation was futile. Denied even the right to yell or cry out, the only friend to be known now was despair. Yet, not even despair was willing to know him. For as soon as he had thrown himself back to the waking world, the claws of the immaterial worked to claim him yet again, dragging him back.

Yet suddenly, he could breathe again, but it wasn't him doing it; it was being done for him. Even with the immediate threat of death gone, his panic persisted, and no amount of willpower inspired by fear could do much to keep him conscious.

Try as he might, a new and strangely present force began to lull him to sleep, and it felt more like actual sleep this time rather than the uncomfortable state he had been caught in just before.

As it eased him to stillness, it also worked to dispel his throes of dread.

It was so sudden and surreal. The newfound calm of spirit and mind felt like a shot of serotonin straight to the heart. He should be scared for his life right now and more so for the terrible manner in which he knew it ended in this situation. But no matter how much he believed he should panic and rage and fight against the dying of the light, he couldn't. Stranger yet was he didn't know if this was caused by biological hijack or chemical coercion alone. Something in his heart, or daresay his soul, reassured him like a faint whisper which you could not discern the words of but could understand the meaning entirely, and it soothed him.

No matter how much logic or reason screamed at him, he followed this pseudo-presence. At this point, there was nothing else to be done to save himself, so he allowed himself peace and flowed into sleep willingly and curiously contentedly.

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While tapping his foot, Jules stared indecisively at the blood stains and acid burns that littered the floor. A biosignal alert followed by Richardson chewing into him over the radio had caused his stomach to turn as he had been finishing the power reset, prompting him to rush back upstairs to this mess.

"Shit." He muttered.

He knew the guy was new, but it had only been one xeno. How did he fuck it up this bad?

He could only shake his head. Try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to entirely blame him. All he was doing was trying to alleviate the guilt of his fuckup. He knew that his time in Richardson's unit and, by extension, his company had turned him into a cynic who masked it with sarcasm. This only worsened the guilty feeling, knowing not only that he was trying to shift the blame but also that he had reached the point where he would.

Jules retrieved the fallen SMG and helmet and looked at the cracked visor before dropping it again.

"Right." He clicked his tongue. "Back to it then."

He was going to go get Adrian, and he'd deal with Richardson later. He'd been chewed out before, although he didn't like how Dick did it. He made sure you couldn't ignore him. He'd get chewed out either way and decided he didn't want Adrian's death on him as well. He didn't bother trying to debate himself whether he was doing this for his own sake or Adrian's. He'd be diving headfirst and alone into a bug den for him anyways, so he wasn't going to waste time with the psychology of it.

Once again making use of the elevator down, he plugged Adrian's biosignal and location into his datapad and heads-up display.

Adrian's location had him pinged near biostorage. He'd have to trek deeper into the mess on this station, but thankfully, it was on the way to the cargo bays, where their extraction would be.

This was going to be a long day, but he reminded himself that he'd survived worse. Kind of… sort of. Oh well, he shrugged. He wasn't going to back out now.

The elevator doors opened, and he booked it around the corner and to the nearest tram station. Hopefully Adrian had managed to get it working before this power went out.

/|\

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It had been a long time since he'd been able to sleep this well.

It was comfortable and dreamless, a land of quiet content. Quiet, but not quite silent. For Adrian, silence could only be found when he was alone.

That's why it was so strange, he didn't feel alone.

Such a feeling while asleep would have normally been worrisome, but he felt no fear at this presence. No, he felt quite the opposite. It felt like someone was not only there with him but also seemed to wish for him to sleep well, and safely at that. It was strange indeed

It sparked a soft and soothing warmth within, a kind of which he hadn't felt since better days long gone. It radiated from and felt strongest near his heart, spreading throughout his body all the way to an especially unique branch of this sensation within his mind that he couldn't quite define as tactile or material.

In short, he couldn't explain it, not now, and it felt like it was growing.

What he felt the most in this was something akin to a spiritual rope winding around his soul, binding itself to him. Stranger still, he could feel what felt like a rope of his own that he didn't know existed before tying around them as well. The idea was a bit frightening at first, but it harbored no malice and he let it continue to sew its threads around him, which it did with compassion.

As this feeling and connection grew, so did the warmth it gave him. As what he could only describe as binding, or better yet, some form of bond, continued to develop, this warmth and comfort it departed unto him felt all the more sincere.

But was it actually something or even someone else? The question roused deep intrigue. Who would want such undeserved good for him? Perhaps he had died, he reasoned; perhaps mercy had shone upon him and had killed him in his sleep, and these feelings were merely a rekindling of his tie with the divine after so many years of lukewarm faith.

He was quick to try to brush off this explanation. He didn't much like the idea of being dead yet and was just going to roll with whatever this was.

He was answered anyway by another wave of this sensation as it flowed through him, carrying what felt like a clandestine answer.

No? Strange, he thought. No words or images had entered his mind to give him this idea, yet he could tell with certainty that this had been an actual answer.

He was almost disappointed that he had somehow wormed his way into Heaven after all these years of regret, but was relieved to find he wasn't dead yet. But then, what was this? His mind began to whirl for answers as it told him such good things would and could not exist for the likes of him. Being used to these self-condemnations by now, he forced it to quiet down. A task was relatively easy compared to the normal fight it put up.

He calmed once more and basked in the comfort of this glow which allowed him the rare rest of mind and body. A sense of approval radiated through him. It seemed whatever this was had endorsed this course.

/|\

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A hum with no real rhyme or rhythm bounced off the walls of the tight service corridor, along with light splashes, as Jules plodded down the flooded passages. It smelt like coolant, and he doubted it should have been down there or that the fumes could have been any good for his health, but he didn't have much room to care about that anymore.

This wasn't his first choice when it came to navigation, but the tram had decided to call it quits a little less than halfway through the trip. Nothing on this station seemed to want to work. Maybe it was some sort of punishment for the hubris of embarking on this suicide mission. Now, these maintenance corridors had been the nearest and only realistic method of navigation toward Adrian if he wanted to make it in time. Time was still going to be tight, though, and having to trudge through coolant that nearly reached his knees didn't help his progress or his mood.

A single beep sounded from his motion tracker, accompanied by a singular blip flashing into life near the bottom of it, aka behind him.

He twisted his head back, staring down the long and empty corridor that lay behind him. There was nothing, no xenos, no movement, not even any ripples across the coolant aside from where he'd planted his own feet.

"Fuckin' teases." He grumbled as his finger lightly scraped at the trigger of his Scattergun. This wasn't the first time this had happened, it was actually closer to the tenth, and it was starting to piss him off. A surprising feat nowadays.

He'd rather they just got it on with and gave him a few targets to let loose some of his frustration on. Instead, they insisted on playing these blood pressure-raising games and slowing him down.

Huffing, he turned back to the front but stopped short of a full step. A small disturbance caused the water to ripple from behind a corner up ahead, but his motion detector hadn't picked anything up.

Fine, he thought, We can play this game. With a mix between a smile and a scowl, he began his slog forward again. He wanted to get the hell out of these tunnels, get to Adrian, and get out. Maybe shoot a few bugs while he was at it as well, that'd be a bonus but they were playing hard to get.

It's a shame they aren't sapient, he thought and laughed to himself. Because that's what I like in a woman. He'd have to tell Adrian that one.

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While Adrian had been graced by this blissful state that only continued to grow, so did a nagging in the back of his mind. Try as hard as he, or the presence which seemed to be putting in more effort to dispelling it, might, neither were able to fully rid him of this growing anxiety.

As much as this soothing state of tranquility may have initially allayed these trepidations, the reality of his situation continued to dig in. The force that had compelled him to peace felt more troubled by this than himself. Even though he had still not been able to distinguish anything direct or regular from it, his understanding of its meanings was continuing to develop along with this unexplainable connection, but it wasn't something he would find himself complaining about.

He had to have been in this state for some time now, but how long did he have left? The question stabbed at him no matter how much he wished to ignore it. As his distress grew, so did that of the interloper.

This ISN'T the time for that. Adrian was quick to lash himself for such an intrusive and contemptuous thought. Who was he to think such a thing of something that treated him so unconditionally kindly? This self-condemnation had the opposite effect he desired, as it only worsened the troubled feelings he felt emanate from it.

The situation in his mind began to devolve as the two fed off of each other's negative emotions just as much as the positive, sending them into a spiraling downward loop.

God, I just have to fuck everything up, don't I? He berated himself, causing another foreign feeling of distress to jolt through him and only worsen his guilt, furthering this vicious cycle.

Wake me up. He begged whatever force would hear him. Let me wake up so I stop fucking this up, I don't even deserve it. It hurt him to say this but he had to get away. Away from himself and back into the living, breathing world where he could distract himself from his failures and shortcomings and where he wouldn't trouble this force that seemed to care more about him than he did himself. But they didn't want to let go. They wanted him to stay, even in his shame and loathing.

He couldn't understand why and it scared him just as much as he was grateful. But his fear, especially that of himself, was quick to grab out and take the reigns.

Only now did mercy, if it could even be called that, choose to grant his wishes. He felt the presence begin to slip and fade in intensity as a flood of consciousness killed the sound. Yet as his wish made in grief was granted, he tried at the last second to reach back to it, but it was already gone.

It took some time for the room to make sense and to understand the noises around him as he opened his eyes and groggily looked around.

The source of his rousing stood blurrily in front of him, struggling to cut away at the rigid shell that held Adrian in place.

"I get you must be comfortable," the man grunted as he continued to cut him loose. "But—" a loud bang sounded against a door on the far side of the room, causing him to jerk his attention towards it. "—I really think you should wake up pretty soon."

Adrian could only stare at him as he worked to free him. His mouth was parched, his head was spinning, and he felt like he was going to throw up when he tried to piece a sentence together. The troubling experience he had just gone through was now replaced with this even more chaotic one.

Adrian had finally pieced together a response but fell short of saying it as he instead fell forward.

"Right, yup," The man grunted as he caught Adrian. "Just like that c'mon. We gotta get going."

It was Jules. Adrian wanted to be surprised, but for some reason, he knew if it was going to be anyone who came, it would've been Jules.

Adrian held onto Jules as he struggled for balance while the latter pulled him forward.

Adrian tried to express some form of protest, but the incredible hoarseness of his throat, paired with his spinning head prevented any from reaching reality. For now, he could only cling to Jules as they hobbled out of the dark room opposite the door that was being thrashed and pounded at from the other side.

The new light that hit him from the new room hit like a truck. It made him reel back and cover his eyes, much to Jule's discontent.

"You can whine about it as much as you want. Just keep moving." He tugged Adrian forward again.

With each step, Adrian slowly found it easier to place his feet and manage his balance on his own as his faculties returned.

"Slow down." Adrian finally managed to say.

"No can do."

"I-I just need a moment." Adrian struggled for breath. "And didn't you say something about wanting a fight anyways?"

"Heh. Hehe." Jules laughed dryly in response. "I've had my share today just to get to you. You can thank me later, by the way."

Adrian grit his teeth as he was yanked along again. He pulled himself out of Jule's grip once the strength had found him.

"I can handle myself." Adrian spat at him with more venom than he'd intended. "I'm sorry, I just-"

"Don't worry about it." Jules quickly shoved a familiar weight into his arms, his Flechette X43.

"I was going to bring your helmet, but it was already busted to hell. Now come on." He looked at Adrian with a concerned gaze that worried him a bit. "We gotta get you to the medbay."

Ah, Christ, his heart sped up with this.

Every possible explanation or idea as to why he needed to be hauled to medical began to run rampant through his head. Unfortunately, the one that stood menacingly above the rest and which he knew deep down was the real reason nearly made him vomit like an infant.

"Jesus... Don't tell me." Adrian said almost pleadingly.

"I doubt he needs to." Jules said matter-of-factly.

Jules was right, and Adrian had already known. He knew damn well from the start what was going to happen to him if he was taken alive. Yet he had allowed himself to be lulled into complacency. Perhaps he allowed it so willingly out of denial or maybe because of how strangely genuine the alien care and compassion had felt. It was most likely both. However, every time he thought back to it, he still missed it. The deep emptiness he had before deluded himself into believing was good for him now reigned supremely painful once he had finally had a fleeting experience of it being filled. Could it have been real, what he'd felt? Or was it a sick joke to add to the many?

All it did was make him sick.

"Jesus, fuck!" Adrian doubled over as his stomach crept up his throat.

"You're not doing either of us any favors like that."

"What the fuck do you expect me to do?!" Adrian yelled at him.

"To keep moving like I just said." Jules shot back before sighing. "And I doubt stressing about it will help you."

Adrian stood again, clutching fistfuls of his hair.

"Why? Why like this? Why me? I'm just some guy, and not even special at that!" He looked at Jules but stared more through him than at him.

Sliding his hands down his face, he forced himself upright and began moving forward again despite how much he wanted to fall to his knees.

"Yup, just like that, c'mon." Jules patted him on his back as they kept moving forward. "And put that gun to more use this time yeah?" He chuckled.

The attempt to ease his stress merely flew past Adrian as he groaned at this.

"Well, I was going to tell you a joke I thought of earlier, but…" He stared over Adrian's tense features. "I'll tell you later."

Adrian's stress finally spurred his will awake and he hurried his pace and walked past Jules.

"Let's go."

"That's what I've been saying!" Jules said behind him as the two made their way to medical.

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With a new resolve invigorating him with a fresh wave of energy, their progress had so far been good. It wasn't without its share of threats, however. It felt like every other step they took was plagued with a motion detector ping or some distant, wayward noise that called their attention and only served to slow them down. Neither of the pair knew the numbers of the Xenomorphs that were stalking them, but they could count on one hand the times they had actually seen them so far. They felt everywhere at once.

Adrian's pace began to falter and slow, but this wasn't what caused it. What did was an extraordinary growing fatigue that was sapping his energy.

Either paired with or brought forth from this fatigue was an increasing struggle to catch his breath. It wasn't long before he had to stop to recuperate yet again.

"I ought to start charging you for these breaks." Jules remarked.

Adrian weakly threw his hand at him.

"Just give me a second," he grunted annoyedly between breaths. "You must think you're real funny... hell, why didn't you go into comedy yourself?" he looked up at him. "Especially with how good you are at being a smart ass." Adrian would have chuckled had he not already been struggling.

"Good question." Jules laughed for him but fell silent. "Really good question."

He was quick to snap out of it.

"We're right by the medbay, though. We get there, and you'll be right as rain in no time. A station like this should have a top-of-the-line autodoc."

"Yeah, sure thing man." Adrian pushed off the wall and struggled for a few steps until he fell back into rhythm. "Let's get there and get this out." Adrian said half-heartedly.

Despite it being a life-saving necessity, it still felt wrong to say it like that.

Just as Jules had said, it hadn't taken long. Good thing too, because Adrian was at the end of his endurance.

Adrian staggered into the white-washed hallways of the medical bay and scanned the rows of doors down the hallways. As he did, another intense wave of nausea and chest pain hit him hard. He had to lean against the wall, battling himself to keep his stomach down as his mouth filled with saliva. It had gotten worse, like it did with each new bout.

Once it passed, he looked down towards the end of one of the hallways to see Jules motioning for him to follow. Adrian could only groan for what seemed the umpteenth time when Jules disappeared behind the door at the end. Adrian opted for the path of least resistance and slid down the wall the rest of the way and into the room that was their destination.

The room matched the rest of the clinical aesthetic, with harsh shades of white on nearly every surface. A steel table laden with automatic operating equipment that lay in the middle of the room was the primary exception as well as his salvation.

Jules, who had been setting up the operation which proved relatively easy considering the nature of this station, moved away from the console to help him onto the table.

A hand clutching at his wrist stopped Jules short of laying Adrian down.

"Jules, please make sure I get through this man." Adrian pleaded. A rare moment of weakness he let be witnessed.

Jules nodded sincerely and pushed him down into place.

"Don't worry, mate. If you didn't have it in you to get through this, you wouldn't be here." He smiled. The lack of any quip was what worried Adrian the most.

"And-" Adrian stopped him again with even more concern. "Be careful with them."

Jules looked at him deeply contemplatively.

"I will. Just lie back and relax." He placed the anesthesia mask over him and began the program.

"Now count to ten." He said as he held a finger above Adrian.

"One. Two–breathe." Jules told him. Adrian realized he had been holding his breath out of trepidation. He obeyed and they began again.

"There, Three. Four. Five." He continued to count with Adrian raising a new finger with each number. Adrian, though, began to struggle with the words as the world became fuzzy around him.

"Sssix. Seehhh..." Adrian's words slowly faded, with seven never reaching the light of day before the growing darkness that was tunneling his vision finally enveloped him. This revolving door of sleeping and waking that he was going through today was beginning to get a bit annoying.

However, as he passed into the semi-conscious realm on his way to sleep, the being that now inhabited it with him eagerly wrapped itself around his returned presence, even after how badly he'd fumbled it earlier.

It felt different. Not a bad difference, but he found it hard to describe it as a good difference. It felt larger. Not only did it take up more room in his mind and soul, which was the nice part, but he was beginning to feel somewhat cramped in his own body with them. But, as he said, it wasn't all that bad, even if a bit uncomfortable. Actually, he'd go so far as to say that it was cozy and warm, with it seeming to envelop him entirely.

On top of that, he was able to understand quite a bit more from it now, such as its emotions, feelings, and its curious form of immaterial communication. But it felt somewhat frustrated like it wanted to say so much but hadn't the mouth to say it. Most of all, he could feel it was eager and so anxiously happy. These strong, encompassing emotions that surrounded him also surprised him, considering his situation, but it couldn't help but leave him feeling eager and joyful with them. What surprised him the most was how happy he was.

The same dreadful corner of his mind that sought to tear any joy out of his life was snuffed out as soon as it had begun to emerge, but this time, it hadn't by his own hands.

He didn't know it yet, but they wished he could understand them just as much as he wanted to. They wanted to ease his doubts and worries that someone could and would care about him like this, even if he didn't understand why. They wanted him to understand that it was unconditional, that it was true, and was all very real and just for him. They would wait. They would wait until they could tell him themselves.

It was almost time.

It was all still a lot for him, but he allowed himself to flow and mingle with what, by now, he couldn't deny as being a second consciousness that brushed against his own. What else could it have been, anyway? He knew he had one growing inside him, and now it had developed to such a point that he could feel a direct and singular presence at the source of this. He just hadn't let himself believe it until now.

Just when their shared affection began to ease the two into a state of synchrony, a pang of surprise shot through him, but it wasn't his own. The moment's tranquility had been cut, and the silence was deafening. Adrian was left feeling empty yet again and his mind floated dejectedly in the void.

But he wasn't alone. They hadn't left him, and this fact pulled him from his growing malaise. There were still some soft waves of that warmth that reached him. Despite it not being so intimately wrapped around his entirety anymore, he could tell it hadn't completely gone. Light brushes of their being still reached him as he continued drifting further into his sleep, calling to him, but it was faint and distant as a dreamless sleep approached.

He was safe; they could feel it. This eased their concerns and uncertainty when they were removed from the safety and warmth of his encompassing embrace. As they drew air into their lungs for the first time, they thought of one thing: Oh my host... my bonded. So simple yet so meaningful. A thought that had every time before and would forevermore be a ceaseless source of love and endearment.

But life is often fickle and cruel, and as the last thread of his consciousness was cut, Adrian felt their panic abruptly rouse. He didn't know what caused it, nor could he do anything to help as he drifted further away.

But he remembered how, in his own worry, they had comforted him and he tried to do such a thing for them. Even so, trying to through a medium he had never used or even known existed before proved difficult. Yet, despite his efforts being awkward and unfamiliar, the last thing he felt was that they had still found solace and were content in his attempts.

He would curse himself if he could with this being all he could do and being ineffective at that, but after a lifetime of their employ, such things had lost their meaning.

But as he had many times today, his mind drifted into silence, and both were anxious to meet.