#backonmybullshit91: hicks.

[homewanker]

@backonmybullshit91 sent: ❛ do you understand what that means? ❜ [Hicks. Thought I'd bug you with more Hicks and Billy. Since we don't have enough of that. Feel free to ignore either. <3] ► from this meme.

John hadn't expected to be addressed in the debriefing, and the surprised look in his eyes probably gives him away. He glances at the screen-- at all the details of what happened in their last assignment together and the goals for the next one-- and then turns to look at Hicks instead.

He hadn't killed anyone this time. He hadn't even injured anyone. He'd listened dutifully to what the squad had told him, keeping the philosophy of "working with the team" in mind, and had done exactly as he was told because he wanted to do a good fucking job.

Still, John swallows. "...am I in trouble again?"

[humanfucker]

@backonmybullshit91 sent: “Jesus, have you been awake the entire night?” (Hicks. Cause i suddenly want to do more with him. Can be still the Colonial marine or just a regular Solider. Plop him out of the Aliens universe and make him deal with Autobots instead.) ► from this meme.

Optimus' helm cocks a brief measure to the side. "I do not require rest as a human does, Corporal."

Even in terms of recharging, he doesn't need it nearly as much as the other Autobots do. (That, and Optimus' inherent inability to rest without feeling he ought to do anything makes it impossible for him to stay still.)

"I understand this is your first time engaging with Cybertronians" -- when Lennox had mentioned another squad joining them at N.E.S.T., Optimus hadn't been sure what to think, but he decides to afford Bravo Team's leader the same amount of respect he would give anyone else -- "but I assure you, I will not fall behind.

"We function very differently from humans, required hours of 'sleep' included. This is fine to me."

[homewanker]

"Yeah," John says, immediately feeling less constricted without Edgar's eyes zeroing in on him every other second. "Yes. Yes, this'll be okay."

As if all the air's been squeezed out of him, John's posture slackens, and the hands that'd been joined behind his back let go. His arms cross over his chest and his gaze drifts elsewhere, and he takes in a careful breath to calm himself down.

Though he stands with pride everywhere else, happy to call himself Homelander and to smile for every camera pointed his way, in the small space of privacy he's been taken to, he hardly looks the picture of Vought propaganda. Suddenly he just looks like every other young twenty-something out there when they leave the nest too quick, with the only major difference being the fact his super suit's so colourful.

Quietly, he admits, "I wasn't trained for this.

"They showed me videos of Soldier Boy, though. And I've seen some military work and formations from the pictures they used to make. But I'm... I'm way out of my league."

The fingers of his right hand dig into his left bicep, marked only by the muted sound of gloves digging into fabric.

"My... bosses, they told me to outshine you. To show that I'm better. But I don't really know how to be a hero-- I just started. And everything out here is different from the patrols I do in the city, and everything was just so much I--

"I almost ran away, but if I did that Mr. Edgar would lock me up again. And in tense moments like when your friend was held hostage, where I could hear everyone's heartbeats and smell everyone's sweat, it gets so overwhelming you just..."

John swallows thickly.

"I'm sorry." His voice cracks, and it's like some leak's opened up in the dam of his heart. "I'm so sorry for your friend. I just wanted to help, I really did, but I'm a fuck up and I fucked it all up and I didn't mean to." His jaw goes tight, his head ducking to hide the tears gathering in his eyes. "I'm so fucking sorry. And if there's anything I can do to help-- I meant it, I really did, please let me know. He wasn't...

"He wasn't supposed to get hurt and I'm sorry. Please don't hate me."

Hicks was waiting for a response. See what he was going to say or if he was going to stick whatever had been put into his head. Though he hadn’t expected the look of panic to cross over his face. Hicks shifted his eyes towards one of the other members of his group, a confused expression on his face. He just wanted to see what his reaction would have been to being told to talk to them truthfully. No corporate bullshit. He hadn’t meant to scare the guy. What were they telling him at Vought? Like he knew they had a lot of these guys that had this idea in their heads about themselves. But this dude didn’t seem to have that level of arrogance yet.

Finally, he seemed to start trying to talk again. Took him a second to get something out and when he did it wasn’t what he was expecting. He wanted to continue the conversation away from the group. Probably the reps too. Edger was probably the worst of them. Something about him put Hicks on edge. So he could understand the need for a change of scenery.

Nodding as he pushed himself off the crate he had stayed seated on while they were having this little conversation. “Come on.” He motioned for him to follow before telling the others to stay where they were. He was sure at least a couple of them were going to want to follow. “I have a place we can have this talk in private.” Sounded like that was what he wanted, and Hicks wasn’t going to argue. Looked like the best way to figure out where they should go from here.

Hicks was starting to think that there was more to this Vought place than he told. He knew they were trying to get these superheroes in the military. But he wondered what they were feeding these guys now. The fact that asking him to speak plainly freaked him out as much as he did. Hicks had questions.

“Think this will be ok?” He asked as they made their way to a spot that was between a couple tents. People didn’t seem to be coming here so it was as private as they could get here. None of the reps or officers were out here though. So maybe that would good enough.

[paramounticebound]

|| @backonmybullshit91 liked for a teeny tiny starter!

Pads of his fingers dug into the ground, scraping against it, barely felt. Unlike the ringing in his ears, how it cut through him, how it thrummed in time with the pounding in his skull. Remnants of the explosion spoke through the cuts on his face, the sweat on his brow. A look, clouded, was shot to Kyle as he clamored to his feet.

"You still breathing?"

[savior-of-humanity]

[ARMED ]sender brandishes a  [ gun / knife ]  at receiver . [From Hicks to Specimen 6. Not sure if you're still taking these if not feel free to totally ignore me. Just always an icebreaker for me.]

The air is still. Tense. Almost silent, save for the background ambience of the run-down facility, and the sound of breathing. Breathing that came from an all-too familiar silhouette in front of Hicks - the form of a Xenomorph.

But this was no ordinary Xenomorph.

To any average person who had the misfortune of being familiar with the nightmarish creatures, the one before Hicks would've seemed like a seemingly average alien. But there were two details that stood out, details that set them apart from others of their own kind.

First and foremost was the number 6 imprinted directly on the front of the Xenomorph's smooth, elongated head - their face, if you will. It had obviously been caused by humans; it most likely had once been used as a test subject for some group, perhaps Weyland-Yutani, for their own purposes. The branded number glowed ever so slightly in the dim lighting; if you wanted to be philosophical about it, it was a reminder that no matter what Mankind did, they would never be able to tame the perfect organism that was the Xenomorph.

The second detail was the fact that the alien, Six, wasn't immediately trying to kill Hicks.

Oh, there were still the tell-tale signs of hostility; sinewy lips peeled back to bare human-like teeth that glinted silver in the dim lighting, strings of saliva dripping from those deadly jaws. Behind Six, their tail whipped about in a manner not unlike that of a particularly annoyed cat, flicking to and fro - the blade-like tip always pointed at Hicks, but never moving to deal a killing blow. Just like with the pistol the human had lined up with the alien's head.

It was a sign that this thing was far more intelligent than the average Xenomorph - because what alien didn't just try to kill him on sight with only a couple of feet between them? What alien recognized a situation where if either party moved to strike, there was no guarantee that they'd walk away with their life?

[strongfuck]

@backonmybullshit91 sent: gun . wield a gun at my muse . [Hicks. Cause I thought this would be a good way to introduce them to each other. lol. It begins. ] ► from this meme.

The sight of a gun illuminated by the backdrop of flames has Rhys immediately lifting his hands in surrender. If he's lucky, the guy's going to be sane enough to talk to him, but judging from the state of what looks to be an escape pod (and Rhys doesn't recognise its make or model at all), the rough landing would make anyone paranoid.

"Do you speak English?" is Rhys' first question. It feels pertinent, especially if they're going to continue talking.

Only once he's asked it, however, does he realise that by being the first person this guy's met since crash landing on Pandora, he might end up responsible for him.

Fuck.

"I'm Rhys. You're in the Borderlands system on a planet named Pandora. Any of this ringing a bell?"

[lastsurvivor-a]

@backonmybullshit91 liked for a starter !

Ripley opens and closes her hand, flexing her arm. The prosthetic was somewhat new, and she got used to it pretty quickly, but the incident that led up to it still hadn’t left her mind. Perhaps that was normal, though, for trauma to not just go away. If there was one thing she wouldn’t get used to, it was the memories. She sighs, closing her eyes briefly, remembering why she decided to meet up with Hicks.

It was a check up, really, just to see how she was doing. If she had to be honest, she wasn’t doing great, but she’d been functioning well enough, at least in her opinion. Outsiders might have a different insight, so she agreed to have a chat with him. When she opens her eyes again, she sees him approaching. “It’s been a minute,” she greets him, “and before you ask: I’m holding up just fine. Sleep and appetite aren’t the best, but I’m fine. Coffee’s been doing the trick.”

She casually leans back in her chair, trying to look more comfortable. “So, how’ve you been?” It’s clear she’s stalling, wanting to get the subject off of herself. Ripley never liked feeling like she was being pitied. “Hope things have been decent around.”

[torntruth]

@backonmybullshit91 : Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight. [Hicks to Ripley.] / deathless , always accepting .

this feels daily now. this eccentric piece of advice from hicks, actively going out and training like they were preparing for a war. maybe they truly are. the corporate tyrant that is weyland-yutani still exists and was really only thwarted once, rather badly, by a group of marines that just wanted to go home. does ripley really think wey-yu will ever give up their search for something powerful? no.

ripley just fixes dwayne with one single, tired look before she decides she just isn't in the mood for this at the moment and walks towards the back door. with the small, little balcony. one of the few thriving cities left on earth. wey-yu's products all over various things. inescapable. she pulls her carton of cigarettes out of her jacket, lights one up. there's a slight view of the ocean in the distance.

" do you think we could move out to the middle of bumfuck nowhere and become farmers, dwayne? "

[stclker]

"I know you can handle it yourself, but it doesn't mean you should to do this on your own." [Hicks to Ripley if your up for it. Also hello!~]

"..." She paused, and glanced over the control panel towards Hicks. Somewhere in her occupied mind - she acknowledged being still in survival mode. It was the first thing she woke up to, and what always shadowed each of her actions. Somehow, she couldn't brush that off her mind. That awful feeling, that something might happen - while she least expects it. On top of that, they were running the place with an AI and far below minimum allowed size of the crew - things like breakfast and chat were the last in her list of routines. Maintenance and trying to figure out what next after barely making it alive, it all added to the stress.

"The more everyone can do on their own..." She started, but quickly paused. Considering it a while. "...but if you don't have anything on your task list... and..." she glances him from toe to the head. "You can make it. Come, we're heading for maintenance check for the power and pressure in generator room." || @backonmybullshit91 (helloo!)

[outatimes]

"No--" Marty remembers that Doc had only shown him pictures, then swallows the word back and shakes his head all the while. "I mean, uh. Yes. Yeah. First time, definitely."

He's leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Having been warned about these aliens and what they could do hadn't prepared him at all for seeing them face-to-face, he realises. But Doc had sent him here for a reason, and as he takes in a deep breath to steady himself, he meets Hicks' gaze with his best attempt at looking fearless.

"They're faster than I thought they'd be," he says. "You know, with the, uh--" His hands come together and move apart in some gesture of length. "With the size."

Marty doesn't stall for long. Even as he continues speaking with Hicks, he's checking his ammunition, fixing his guns, and wondering why in the hell it is that he agrees to all these crazy things Doc makes him do. On one hand, of course, he knows Doc's a father-- if either of them had to die, it's probably better if it's Marty and his childless self. On the other, though, sometimes he wonders if it wouldn't be better if someone smarter got into these scenarios.

He picks up his rifle, quietly hoping the bullets he has with him are heavy enough to pierce whatever the hell kind of skin the alien's got.

"They can die," Marty mumbles, "right?"

@outatimes asked: oh my god. what is that? @ hicks

Hicks didn’t have the time to explain, couldn’t go into details right now. He’d have to talk to him once they were somewhere they could catch their breath. These were not things to go against without knowing what you were dealing with. Something Hicks had some person experience with. The scars on the side of his face and small parts of his chest were anything to go by. The acid was not something to take lightly. Taking a quick shot at the bastard thing that got a little too close for comfort. Pushing him back as he moved, they needed to get out of here. He wanted one of the steel doors between them and it. It wouldn’t hold the thing off forever, just enough for them to get better prepared.

Dwyane Hicks had been one of the marines sent to Hadley’s Hope. Had been expecting to run into trouble. The colonists had gone dead quiet. But he hadn’t been expecting what they ran into. In just one meeting with a small group of those things it took out nearly his whole previous unit. Over time the only ones that had managed to get away had been Ripley, Newt, Bishop and himself. He had been the last man standing from his unit. Fuck remembering that had really bugged him. Still did. The company hadn’t given a damn about that. Would have probably preferred if he had died with the rest of them. Because he knew what they had planned now for these things.

He of course had thought about leaving. Wasn’t really much he wanted to do with the people that had thrown them at something that they were woefully underprepared for. They were well aware that they had not been prepared to deal with these things. Their officer hadn’t even been fully prepared for an actual fight. He froze up a couple times. Went out better than anyone could have guessed. These days Hicks still spent most of his time looking into rumored sightings, or whenever places went silent.

He had been hoping this one had been a false lead. Clearly, it hadn’t been. Cursing, he managed to pull a few more people out of the room with him. Least he was more prepared than he had been in the colony to deal with them. It was still hard. They were not an easy group to fight off.

Once the door was shut Hicks seemed to finally take a breath before looking towards Marty. “A fucking nightmare.” Which was an understatement. Hicks had seen a few of them. They got more and more difficult. They were getting better.

“First time seeing one of them?” He usually had people with him that had at least seen or heard of these things before.

[stclker]

As if time had stopped, her fingers just barely underneath the edges of the bandage, the smirk from their chat faded, replaced by serious stare. She knew what the sound was for, yet, she lost the ability to function as if questioning whether she was making it up. But as he addressed the sound too, she withdrew her hands, leaving the bandage untouched.

"Yes... it's incoming. No doubt." Baffled, Ellen got up - just as he moved to get up, reaching her hand to offer him some support to stand on the two, letting go as soon as he did. "...I guess." Still in disbelief, she took few steps towards the corridor leading to the control room. She hadn't thought they were nearby any space stations - Yet who knew. She had checked the course a week ago - they shouldn't have reached any life in another month. Making contact with another space craft in their own makeshift path would be such a luck - like finding another person on a boat in the middle of Atlantic ocean.

This is S......a...... answer.... we detect.... Repeat. Th....s...

Ripley wasted no time, she dashed through the corridor, leaving Hicks behind for now - he would follow, she assumed. Even thinking about missing their only contact in months sent her in a panic. After forcing herself through barely opened pressure doors, she slammed her hand to accept the dual way connection. While proper way would be addressing the ship's name and ID. She brushed away all the formalities - her voice rushed in urgency.

"This is Ripley! Ellen Ripley! You got to help us! We have a wounded marine, broken synthetic and a little girl on board! We need help! "

This is Stellar. Reply. Please, calm down. State your ship ID or designation- then we will request the coordinates for docking-

"Just take the coordinates!"

This is Stellar, please state your designation or ID- Repeat. Please state your designation or ID-

Farming compared to fighting monsters from space sounded like a lot easier than this. Hicks had been a part of a lot of what they called bug hunts. Taking on all kinds of creatures. But somehow those things was worse things he had ever encountered. He thought that was saying a lot either everything he had seen and faced. Nothing had taken out a whole squad of marines so easily. Those things tore through them like they were nothing but toys.

Hicks was pretty sure the damage under his bandage was pretty serious. He hadn’t had a chance to do a lot of evaluating. He hadn’t been able to focus one he was awake the pain was too severe and then Bishop had pumped more painkillers into him. He trusted the synthetic enough to think he wouldn’t have left Ellen. He was happy to see he had been right.

Letting her move his head to get a better look at what Bishop had done for him. He grinned at the mention of the bill. “Almost surprised Bruke didn’t show up to hand you one when he asked you to come along.” Sounds like something they would have done.

Hearing his first name was still a little surprising, not a lot of people called him that. His family had when he was a kid. But most of his life now he was only Hicks or Corporal. He found he didn’t mind it. “Yeah. Didn’t think this was going to be easy.” He’s used to having some kind of medical treatment.

His eye widened when he heard a signal. Was that saying someone was coming to them? Did they find another ship out here? Had she sent out a distressed signal, or did they get lucky to find someone out here? “I’m guessing you heard that too?” He asked judging by the look he was sending her. “We’d better go see what that is. Can take care of this once we find out if that’s help or not.” He was moving to stand, getting ready to head to the control room. They needed help and he hoped this was there way out. He’d be able to treat his injuries. Bishop could hopefully be repaired, and Ellen and Newt could get a checked. Could mean their luck was changing. Depending on how this was.

Once he was steady on his feet he grinned. “Maybe we’ll be checking out that farming idea sooner than expected.”

[homewanker]

You're above everyone, Madelyn's said, time and time again. You're a god, Homelander, and you don't owe any of them your time.

What would she say if he played into this, into being part of a team of normal people? Would she be disappointed? Already Homelander knows Edgar couldn't give a shit-- Noir is his favourite, and Noir's the only one that matters to that man-- but Madelyn's opinions dig their claws into his uncertainties like a monster possessed.

Homelander opens his mouth, ready to give an answer he imagines Madelyn would like, but then the man says that bosses don't matter.

And for a moment, however fleeting it might be, Homelander's expression wavers, and his blue eyes get big and shocked and confused.

"I..." He might throw up. That fear that he was hated, that all these people want him quiet or gone or dead, rears its ugly head back in. Homelander swallows, turns his head to where Edgar is speaking with the general, and then wets his lips with his tongue.

"I... I can't do this here."

The weakness in his voice would have him fucking boiled alive. If anyone from 82 could hear him, God, John'd be right back in that god damn lab, and maybe this time he'd never be let out.

"Can we go somewhere else to talk?" he asks, and though he affords everyone in the group a look, his gaze lands and lingers on the man elected to speak to him.

And, ever so quietly, Homelander adds, "Please."

Well he knew this was going to sound a little weird saying to an actual would be superhero. He didn’t know if he was a full fledge hero yet, but they were clearly trying to get him to that point. Hicks didn’t know what they were thinking. Just because they had a little bit of power didn’t mean that they were going to be able to do everything. Sure, he was angry, for his friend and the fact that things could have been a lot worse. Sighing, he rubbed at his temples for a moment trying to bring that anger back down. Because clearly he was aware that he fucked up.

“Working with us is going to be a hell of a lot different than working in a city.” Playing the good guy there? That was going to have it’s own set of problems. Hicks didn’t know what they were going to do with him there. Shifting his eyes, he saw the looks from some of his guys. They looked as confused or worried about the situation as he did.

“I know how this is going to sound. But stay with me here. This was supposed to be a team effort. We all had our jobs. No one should have been out here playing hero.” He was on there side… Hicks figured he saw that. But what was he supposed to do when someone with that much power decided to go into business for themselves. These guys needed something before they could go out here like this.

“Whatever your bosses told you to say you can drop that too. We know they don’t give a shit about this situation. Just don’t want us ruining whatever plan they have in mind with all this. What’s the answer you have for the mess?” He wanted to see what he was thinking, he wanted him to drop whatever PR shit they might have fed him. He might have really been sorry. IF that was the case might make this conversation go more in his favor.

[homewanker]

God, Homelander thinks, terrified, he hates me.

The whole squad hates him, really, and the way one of them had sounded on the verge of laughing at him is the nail hammered into that coffin. Damn what Madelyn thought-- so what if these soldiers were supposed to adjust to him? To respect him? They clearly don't, and even more obviously, they hate his fucking guts.

Still, Homelander's expression doesn't waver. Not even when the slightest hint of anger in the man's voice had caused his blood to run cold.

"I was only..." He inhales. "I didn't expect Frost would try to get out on his own, si--" Homelander stills his tongue. Madelyn would kill him if he called any of these men "sir", especially considering none of them are the highest ranking officer in this camp. "I thought he'd stay put.

"But" -- Homelander's head tilts some, and while he doesn't smile, he does let out a thoughtful hum -- "he's a braver man than I thought. A real fighter.

"What happened to him, I... if there's anything at all that I-- I mean, that Vought can do, by all means, please let me know. I'm sorry this happened to him. I..."

I only wanted to hurt the bad guys.

"I wanted to save him. I'm on your side."

Hicks wasn’t really listening to what was being said. It wasn’t like they were going to give them any new information. It was a rundown of things they already knew. That wasn’t the problem. Vought could go home acting like they did a job well done, probably forget about the damage they caused, and hell probably try to tell them they should have gotten out of the way. Ignoring the fact that they had been following the plan their commander had given them. But that didn’t matter, they wanted to show off their shiny new toy. But because of this supe Frost was now without a hand. They’d probably end up discharging him now. Frost was another friend of his. So, he wasn’t thrilled about the fact that they were probably losing him.

He was of course letting them go. Gorman hadn’t had much to say. Which wasn’t unexpected. He was pretty sure the lieutenant was afraid of some of the people in the squad. Hicks kept looking towards the hero, he wasn’t sure how to feel about him every time he shifted his eyes. He looked like he felt guilty, like he was upset.

He also appeared young. A couple years younger than Hicks himself. Probably making him a little closer to Hudson’s age? Hard to tell. Some of the heroes looked younger or older than they were. Hicks couldn’t really let that sway things here. It really showed that they sent an inexperienced hero into a military operation like he knew what he was doing.

Seemed like their rep was finished talking. Didn’t know what he said to his hero but enough that he was coming over to have a little chat with them. Probably told them he would have to apologize for his fuck up.

Hicks leans back looking over at his group, when Apone wasn’t around, he was the one they were supposed to listen to. In situations like this? It could be iffy. Shifting his eyes towards the hero when he walked over to the groups greeting them, he didn’t get an answer at first. Hudson scoffed at the greeting and nearly laughed at the question.

“He’ll live.” Hicks answered running a hand through his hair. “Probably end up discharged. Not much they can do for the hand.” He turned his full attention now on Homelander. “Care to explain what you were trying to prove?” Hicks’ voice was still quiet but there was a clear bit of anger behind it.

[homewanker]

John fucked up, and he thinks he's going to be sick. Over the phone, Madelyn tells him it isn't his fault-- these soldiers were supposed to give way to you, Homelander, they knew they'd be working with a Supe-- but it doesn't stop him from thinking about the way he'd melted the guy's hand clean off.

He's supposed to be perfect. He's supposed to be America's hope. He's supposed to be the greatest hero to ever live, incapable of doing any bad.

So what do you call a man who nearly fucking kills a hero?

He can hear Edgar outside the bathroom, telling him that they're wanted in the hall. John swallows, looking himself in the mirror, and takes in a deep breath. You killed the bad guy, Homelander. A little collateral damage to his hostage isn't the end of the world.

And with that, he steps out, moving towards the room the rest of the soldiers are gathered in.

He's quiet as Edgar addresses the room alongside the soldiers' higher officers, his hands linked behind his back as the debriefing goes on. Homelander keeps expecting someone to bring up how he'd fucked up colossally (oh, why couldn't Noir come?), but all throughout the formalities, nobody seems to say anything. It makes him wonder if he can just walk away, but by the end of it, Edgar passes by him with a hand on his elbow and a leaned in whisper of: You still have to tell them you're sorry.

And Homelander's stomach drops to the floor.

He's not sure what expression to wear as he approaches the injured's squad. His hands remain linked behind his back, though, and when he reaches the group he clears his throat.

"Hello," is the first thing Homelander says. He decides to go with what he hopes looks like a solemn expression, even if everyone else around them seem to just be happy the operation was successful.

The squad probably hates him. (Homelander is going to throw up.)

"Your friend, he..." Homelander swallows the lump in his throat. "Is he all right?"

@homewanker

Throwing his helmet down once they had dropped off one of their guys to the med tent. Whoever thought sending them the so-called hero was an asshole. The mission could be called a success in the idea that they managed to get the guy they were looking for. Which Hicks supposed he should be happy about. It was one less of those supe terrorists that they had seen showing up now. Which was making their job even harder. Though they were starting to find weapons that were working against them. Meaning there was going to be a point where they don’t need these Vaught guys. Which Hicks thought couldn’t come fast enough.

While most of the time he was usually able to keep his cool he was angry and frustrated right now. Something he had managed to push down until things were finished but one of his had nearly been killed because of some crazy supe who clearly hadn’t been trained in anything. Powers didn’t make them capable of everything. But they were thrown around like they thought they were.

Which led them to their current situation. They still had to go have a little chat with their CO and the prick. Get the conversation of a job well done. Even though the reckless caped supe could have killed the whole squad and he was going to give them some bullshit about how they were the heroes or whatever PR bullshit he tried with the soldiers and cops. Hicks preferred the cocky assholes telling everyone what they really thought. They all thought that they were better than they were. What was the point of the soldiers that didn’t have any superpowers? He didn’t want them. The weapons that might do some damage to the bastards? Hicks would be first in line for them.

Running a hand through his hair as he sat down on the nearest crate. He was going to have to calm down again. Deal with whatever conversation this was going to lead to and just move on. Hicks knew how this worked. Had signed up for the marines the moment he was old enough. Shipped out the moment he was out of high school. Learned how he was supposed to conduct himself despite what his feelings were about a situation.

Looking up after a moment when he realized that someone had called his name. One of his squad. Hudson. People were always surprised how they ended up being as close as they were. But Hicks often told people that Hudson was the first one to make him feel a part of the unit when was transferred here and it went on from there. Hicks sighed hearing that they had to go have their little pep talk with their CO and the flag caped hero.  Picking up his helmet he looked towards the med tent for a moment. While there was only a couple of his unit’s people in there. There was more from others that had been a part of this mission. “Let’s get this over with.” He motioned for the other man to lead the way.

[homewanker]

"They probably think I'm underperforming," John mutters. "Because I'm not taking the lead."

He will admit, though, that there's a quiet sense of triumph hearing Hicks say the squad isn't cross with him. Maybe it's screwed up thinking their opinions matter, but is it so wrong to want to get along with the people you work with?

Compared to the sense of teamwork John feels with Hicks and his men, the only one John really likes at Vought is Black Noir. (Madelyn's lovely, and he thinks he might be in love with her, but he doesn't like her, per se.)

"But you guys just..." He works his jaw, frowning. "You know more than I do about these things.

"We saved people when I listened to you. And nobody even got hurt! Isn't that a good thing?"

Meeting Hick's gaze, John swallows. "...isn't it?"

Hicks had been quiet through most of the debriefing. His expression not really giving away what he thought. This time things had gone pretty well. Least in his opinion. They completed the mission with no casualties and John did a pretty good job staying with the team. Someone just seemed to think that he shouldn’t. The look for the superhero thing didn’t fit when he stayed with a bunch of nonpowered soldiers. But that wasn’t the fucking point. Hicks when he spoke was rubbing his eyes with a hand.

Shifting his attention when John spoke, he sounded scared. What were they doing to these people at Vought. Scared of getting into trouble? “Not from us.” He said after a pause. “No reason to be. Your people? I’m not so sure.”

[stclker]

"Hey, did what I had to." She laughed - at least he supported her choices, chaotic ones too. He missed probably the biggest struggle, far greater than any of the creatures they had seen.

"Yea. You missed the final climax. They were right, there was someone laying the eggs. Fucking big one... a true mother of the scourge." She mixed the beef jerky with the oatmeal, taking a bite. While biting down the well deserved meal, she recalled the events. Now two sleep cycles behind, she could still recall it all. Feeling her heart pumping faster only by thinking about it. It was pure instinct, doubting she could do it again.

"I destroyed the hive and took Newt back... somehow the queen ant followed us up on the deck. She is the reason Bishop got to state he had to be put offline... it was a hell of struggle there but got her trapped to the airlock. It all happened so fast, and I wasn't even thinking - I just... did. " She drew swirls to the oatmeal with the spoon, one hand still holding his - her fingers squeezing tighter as the story went on. Living through it again.

"Trust me, they have equipment to treat you. In exchange of knowledge if else... we will have Bishop fixed, we will have Newt checked and then - future is open." For once, she was feeling hopeful. Abandoning the spoon, reaching her other hand to close his hand completely between hers.

"Look. We view ourselves being useful to company. It's hard... after all achievements - things we wanted to reach before retirement. It became purpose of our lives. But think about it. What does it matter? What does any of this matter? Making value to wallets of Wayland until we are no longer useful in the cycle... in the name of... saving humanity. I say fuck that. Hicks, if they don't need us as we are now, we're out. And proud. "

Hicks wondered what would happen once they made contact with another ship. What would happen once they got home? Was he going to be discharged? A marine with one eye, how much would they let him do? He hadn’t been anything else in a long time. But he knew that the company was going to have a hand in his career now. Surviving an encounter with them. He was sure they would have an interest in him. Ripley and Newt too. Which after what happened with Bruke put him on edge.

He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to deal with them anymore. She had twice already, and they weren’t all that good to her. Newt was another thing. Once they got home, she’d need someone to help her. He wondered if there was any family they should get in contact with. Ripley was a good fit for the girl though. She could help her process more than someone who had never seen those things before.

Ripley’s hand helps ground him. Make him focus on what was happening here. The future could wait once they got through this. Hicks couldn’t stop the smirk hearing that she killed a whole nest. Putting another spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. Swallowing before answering. “Ever the bad ass.” He remembered her reaction when the Xenomorph had taken Newt. How much effort it took him to push her into the elevator.  “Is that what you meant earlier? You said something about showing that bitch.”

Hicks paused for a moment. He was at least good company. But for a lot of the heavy work he was worried he couldn’t do it. What if the contact they make wasn’t someone looking to help them. Shaking his head at the order to eat his oatmeal. The use of his first name made him smile. Strange to think that they introduced themselves properly so close to the end.  

“Yes ma’am.” She had taken command extremely well once Apone and Gorman had been taking out of commission. “This injury seems worse than ones I’ve gotten before. Least there’s still something I can help with.”