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Hicks woke with a start, gasping as if he could still feel the sickly fumes of acid and burning skin in his throat.
He had been dreaming of the elevator again, reliving the terror of their last few minutes on Acheron. This time though, it had been worse. Rather than reliving the physical pain of it all, this nightmare had made him feel the mental and emotional agony of the possibility of him failing to do his one job. The only thing that mattered in that moment.
Protect her.
In the nightmare, he had pulled Ripley down the hallway and into the elevator, only to make the mistake of placing himself in the corner and letting Ripley stay in the middle, right in front of the doorway. The xenomorph had leapt towards them, and after Hicks shot it with quick instincts, he had watched the acid hit her. The last flame of hope in his heart was extinguished as he watched her scream in pain, and after the door opened, his knees buckled and he held her unmoving form.
That’s when he woke up. He was in a cold sweat, the stark opposite of the intensely consuming heat of the elevator and the soon-to-blow planet. He fought to catch his breath and turned to Ripley lying next to him. She wasn’t a very deep sleeper, and had already begun to stir as a result of his noise and movement. She was facing away from him and began to twist.
“Dwayne?” She mumbled, tone sleepy but worried.
Hicks couldn’t stop himself, moving closer to her and turning her by the shoulders towards him. He took her face in his hands and let his eyes take in every detail, checking for any sign of harm. Her narrow nose (not melting), wide dark eyes (alive), and partly opened mouth (perfect).
“W-What’s wrong?” She said, moving to sit up. She reached a hand up and rested it on his where it was pressed against her cheek.
Hicks still felt short of breath, and he didn’t answer her as he pushed her curls up, checking her forehead. He then moved his hands back to her shoulders. She was wearing a large t-shirt, probably his. They mixed up their clothes constantly. He desperately searched for burns, tugging on the collar of her shirt to check her collarbones, then pushing her sleeves up to inspect her shoulders, all while rubbing her skin to reassure himself there were no holes.
“Hicks, look at me.” She told him, voice all-authority. She put a hand on the scarred side of his face.
He couldn’t feel it. Her voice sounded distant through her screams still ringing in his ears. He couldn’t stop. He had to make sure she wasn’t hurt. He pushed a hand under her shirt to feel her back, only feeling smooth skin.
Ripley then surprised him by moving away from his touch and turning on her knees, pressing a hand to his chest and pushing him so his back hit the headboard. She then threw a leg over his bottom half, sitting on his lap straddling him. She faced him, putting both her hands on his face and shaking him once.
“Dwayne, I am alright. I’m not hurt.” She assured him. Her stern tone didn’t match her eyes, which searched him with a deep emotion and intensity. It was different from the lifeless ones he had stared into in his nightmare, and it was enough to pull him back into reality. He swallowed a painful, dry lump forming in his throat, taking a deep breath. He hadn’t realized until then that his cheeks were wet with tears.
He closed his eyes, letting out what could only be described as a whimper (Jesus, his old crew would have teased him endlessly) and leaned forward, pressing his face into the space between her neck and collarbone. He reached his arms up, lacing them around her back underneath her shirt. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, a hand running through his hair. On a normal day, the action as well as her current position would have made him melt with pleasure. But in that moment, every movement and touch was a reminder that she was still there, unharmed, and alive.
“What did you see?” Ripley asked, knowing all too well herself of the fucked up things their minds came up with at night.
Hicks inhaled her scent, resting his forehead against her shoulder. “Elevator again, but this time… I let you get hit.” He pulled her tighter against him. “And I lost you.”
Ripley tightened her arms around his shoulders and turned her head, placing a kiss against his temple. She then leaned back, leaving his head hanging glumly between them until she put two fingers under his chin and lifted it.
The corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile. “Still here.”
He smiled back, releasing her back with one hand and bringing it up to run his fingers through her curls at the side of her head. He ran a finger along the faint scar she had next to her left eyebrow, which almost reached her eyelid. She had gotten cut there when battling the xenomorph queen, something Hicks still couldn’t believe he had slept through, yet could definitely believe she had done successfully.
He traced her cheekbone and jawline with his fingers. He could stare at her all day if either of them could afford to sit still long enough. Ripley leaned forward, resting her forehead against his.
He leaned forward, kissing her softly before murmuring, “I’m a lucky grunt.”