Archive of Our Own ^beta

The scanner beeped loudly.

Locked in the cockpit of the Sulaco with Newt, a flamethrower resting nearby, Ripley had just scanned the dock bay for the third time.

Barely an hour earlier, the massive Queen had torn Bishop apart before she’d finally managed to eject her through the compression airlock.

Her fingers were still trembling against the console, her whole body aching, covered in bruises. The marks of her fight to the death with the creature ripped straight out of her worst nightmares.

Beneath her torn tee-shirt streaked with blood and dried sweat, she could still feel the places where the Queen had slammed her into the metal, where the harness had carved into her ribs.

But she’d survived. Pure adrenaline, probably.

The image of Hicks, unconscious, slumped against the bulkhead just before the attack, hit her all at once. And as the Queen’s razor-sharp tail was trying to impale her, she remembered that a desperate part of her brain had clung to one certainty.

Hicks was safe. Safe in the dropship. Safe because he was out of the Queen’s reach. Because he had to be.

She almost lost Newt. She couldn’t lose him too.

And every blow, every breath had carried the same silent plea.
To stay alive. For her. For him.

She glanced over her shoulder at Newt, curled up in the seat behind her. The girl was silent, watching her every move. A tightness filled Ripley’s chest. No child should ever have to endure something so traumatic at such a young age.

She would probably spend the rest of her life trying to forget the horrors she’d seen…

The scanner gave another sharp beep, pulling Ripley’s focus back to the screen.

The urgency now was to make sure the Queen hadn’t left anything behind, even if it meant emptying the second flamethrower strapped to her shoulder.

She checked the display, her eyes searching for something. Anything. But everything was clear.
It should have comforted her.
It didn’t.

***

Ripley had placed Hicks in the Medpod in an emergency and connected what remained of Bishop to a console in the infirmary.

She was sitting on the edge of the examination table while the android ran a scan on Newt.

“Everything is normal,” Bishop said, voice distorted. “No foreign tissue.”

Newt nodded. She trusted him completely.

Ripley released a long, uneven breath, trying to steady herself.

Bishop reconnected a cable along his torso. His movements were slower than usual. The damage from the Queen had taken a toll.

“Okay. Stay online for a bit and watch Newt, would you ?” Ripley said. “I’m gonna check on Hicks.”

Bishop nodded. Newt smiled.

***

She smoked nervously while watching the swirl of lights inside the Medpod.

Hicks was naked from the waist up, lying inside the narrow capsule. His eyes were closed as the machine put him into an artificial sleep to repair the acid-damaged tissue.

Ripley felt a tightness rise in her throat. They’d come so close to losing him. They’d come so close to death…

She hated how fragile he looked inside that machine.

As she stared at his handsome face, the memory slammed into her. The elevator doors closing slowly, the creature’s hands forcing them back open. An instant of pure terror.

Hicks had thrown his body in front of her, taking the full spray of acid when he fired point-blank.

Her breath caught just remembering it. The tremor in his fingers on the buckles of his armor as it melted away. She remembered her own panic rising in her throat as she helped him tear it off.

And that smell.

That nauseating, unforgettable smell of his skin burning.

If he hadn’t been there…
If he hadn’t chosen her over his own life…

Ripley knew, with a cold, absolute certainty, that she would have died in that elevator.

He’d saved her, protected her with everything he had left. And now he was paying for it inside that pod.

A tear spilled over, but she straightened, brushed it off with the back of her hand, and forced herself to leave the room.

***

Water streamed down her skin, washing away the last traces of sweat, blood, and grime. But no matter how hard she tried to control it, the trembling in her body wouldn’t stop.

She wished she could feel nothing. Think nothing. Stop seeing the images that surged back the second she closed her eyes.

The sob that broke from her rose from somewhere deep. A raw, painful sound, ripped from her throat, almost choking her.

Her back slid slowly down the tiled wall, and she stayed like that for a long time, crouched under the steady rush of hot water.

With her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her forehead resting on her knees, she allowed herself to cry in silence. Just for a moment.

***

Later, Newt and Ripley found Hicks sitting on a bench beside the Medpod, his fingers tracing the edges of the fresh grafts on his shoulder.

His eyes were tired, hollow, but they lit up the moment he looked at them.

"You made it," was all he said.

"Yeah. So did you."

They shared one of their rare smiles.

"God, I could kill for a cigarette."

Ripley pulled a crushed pack from her pocket and tossed it to him. He caught it clumsily, lit one with hands that still weren’t entirely steady, and drew in a long drag.

"The Medpod patched you up pretty well," she said, eyeing the grafts on his shoulder and face.

Hicks let out a low breath, half-laugh, half-groan.
“Maybe. Feels like every bone in my body filed a complaint, though.”

Ripley huffed softly, the corner of her mouth lifting.
“That bad huh ?”

“Oh yeah,” he murmured with a faint grin. “Pretty sure I hurt in places I didn’t even know I had.”

“That’s what you get for playing hero.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Worth it.”

The answer stopped her for a moment, just long enough for him to notice.

Ripley sat down beside him and finally started telling him everything.

"Jesus…" Hicks breathed, genuinely shaken.

And the whole time, Newt nodded eagerly.

“Can’t believe I missed all that…”

The comment pulled a smile from Ripley.

Eventually, they left him to go shower. Under the hot water, he thought of her.
Of what she had done on her own.

She had gone back into hell for a child who wasn’t even hers, faced a goddamn Alien Queen and fucking won.

Hicks felt something tighten in his chest, something raw and almost overwhelming.
He had seen Marines break under far less. But she had survived, saved Newt, and somehow walked out of that hellish hole still standing.
And it left him utterly stunned.

Part of him still couldn’t believe what she’d done back on the Sulaco. Fighting a monster twice her size with nothing but her will to survive and to save all of them.

The thought of it shook something deep in him, something reverent, almost aching.

Aching for her.

***

Hicks slipped into the medbay. He moved stiffly, a ghost of the burns lingering along his side and face. He lowered himself into the seat next to Bishop.

“Any word from Command ?” he asked.

“None yet,” Bishop replied.

Hicks looked at Ripley and read the same apprehension in her eyes.

***

The ship slid into Gateway’s docking bay with a mechanical groan.

Ripley stood by the viewport, Newt on her hip. Hicks rested against the bulkhead across from them, arms crossed, eyes soft as he watched the two of them.

She felt him watching.
She didn’t look away.

The airlock hissed open, flooding them in blinding white light.

He approached and slid his hand into Ripley’s.
She held it in hers.

***

The debriefing was long.
Too long.

Ripley barely remembered any of it.
She answered mechanically, feeling her patience fray.

Hicks glared at the Company suits with a threatening look, his mouth twisting into a bitter line every time someone raised their voice.
They weren’t used to Marines who still looked ready to bite.

And Hicks, exhausted, barely held together by grafts and painkillers, somehow seemed even more dangerous because of it. As if the wrong word might be enough to make him snap.

She shouldn’t have needed him there.
But she was grateful he was.

Newt stayed pressed against Ripley’s side, refusing to leave the room. No one dared insist.

When it was finally over, they were escorted to a temporary module. Tiny and plain, but quiet.

Newt climbed onto the bed immediately. Exhausted, she was asleep in under a minute, curled beneath the blanket.

Ripley shrugged off her jacket and let it fall onto a chair with a deep sigh. Her limbs ached, heavy with exhaustion.

Hicks approached her slowly, hesitant.

“You okay ?”
“No,” she said. “Are you ?”
“No.”

She was grateful he didn’t lie. She didn’t have the strength for pretenses anymore.

Hicks reached out, then stopped.
“Can I… ?”

Ripley stepped closer before he could finish.

She rested her forehead against his shoulder.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed herself to lean on someone.

His arms wrapped around her instantly, pulling her tight against him.
A tremor ran through her chest, but she didn’t pull away.

Ripley lifted her head slightly. Hicks’s eyes were on hers, steady and sure.

He dipped his head and kissed her.
A soft kiss.
Unhurried.

When they finally pulled apart, Ripley brushed her thumb along his jaw.
“You’re staying, right ?”

Hicks huffed a small breath.
“You’d have to shoot me to make me leave.”

She smirked faintly.
“Don’t tempt me, Marine.”

He kissed her again anyway, just because he could.

***

That night, Ripley startled awake with a tightness in her throat.

Shadows around her felt wrong.
Too deep.
Too still.

Her pulse jumped. Then a hand closed gently around her wrist.

Hicks.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

Ripley forced her eyes open. She met his. Grounded, warm, unwavering.

Her breathing eased.
She moved, tucking herself against him. Hicks wrapped his arm around her, holding her exactly the way she needed.

She exhaled slowly and brushed her fingers along the small scar on his cheek, lightly. She felt the faint prick of his stubble beneath her fingertips.
“I’m sorry I wake you.” she whispered.

He tightened his arm around her waist.
“Don’t worry about it. I’d rather be awake with you than asleep without you.”

The words hit deeper than she expected, soft, unguarded. So painfully sincere.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, breathing the same air.
Something slow and warm unfurled low in her stomach.

Ripley shifted. Just a fraction. His breath hitched.
He was hard against her thigh.

Their eyes met again. An apology hung on his lips.

But Ripley didn’t want to hear it. She pressed a finger to his mouth, her gaze fixed on his, sharp and unwavering.

No fear this time. No panic. No nightmares chasing her.
Just want.

Ripley slid her hand down, fingers closing around him, steady and deliberate. Hicks inhaled sharply, his forehead pressing to hers.

“Ellen…” he murmured, almost a warning, almost a plea.

“I want you,” she said softly.
Her thumb circled him at the tip.
"Please don’t hold back."

Hicks’s self-control snapped like a wire pulled too tight.

He kissed her hard, rolling on top of her. The blanket slid off, cold air rushed in, but his hands made her forget it.

Her legs wrapped around his hips without thinking. He groaned into her mouth when he felt how ready she already was for him.

Ripley arched up against him, fingers gripping the back of his neck.

“Dwayne, please…” she whispered.

That was all he needed.

He pushed into her slowly at first, watching her face like it was the only thing keeping him steady. She hadn’t expected it to feel like this. So raw and intense. So right.

Her breath broke in a soft cry, her nails digging into his shoulders.

“Ellen… God…” His voice cracked against her skin.

He moved deeper and she tightened around him, pulling him closer, locking him against her like she needed him to fill every empty space inside her.

Her mouth brushed his ear.
“Don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

The bed rocked slightly under the rhythm they fell into. Slow, then faster. Ripley’s breath stuttered in short, uneven bursts. Hicks swallowed her sounds with his kisses, gripping the frame above her to keep from losing control too fast.

She dragged him back down, pressing her chest to his, needing all of him.
Her voice broke against his shoulder.
“Dwayne…”

He shuddered at the sound of his name torn from her throat.

Ripley’s body tightened around him, trembling. Her climax hit sharp and sudden. She bit down a cry, burying her face in his neck.

Hicks followed her seconds later, his breath ripping out of him as he came, holding her so close she could feel the tremor in every muscle.

Afterward, they stayed tangled together, breathless, skin damp and too warm against each other.

Hicks’s hand found hers and didn’t let go. Ripley didn’t mind. She didn’t want him to.

When she closed her eyes, she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt safe.

But tonight, in the dark, with Hicks’s arms around her and Newt breathing softly in the next room, she finally believed they might survive the rest of it too.

For the first time in forever, Ripley let her eyes drift shut without fear clawing its way back in.

Hicks’s hand brushed her back, slow and steady, grounding her in a way nothing else could.

Tomorrow would come with questions. With the weight of everything they’d lost.
But for now, she allowed herself the smallest luxury.

She leaned into him.
And breathed.