Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2015-09-02
Words:
749
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
14
Kudos:
114
Bookmarks:
12
Hits:
1,187

Not Dead

Summary:

Inspired by a prompt by otpdisaster and originally posted on Tumblr a few weeks back. Links to original posts included in the notes section.

Notes:

Link to original prompt post: http://probablynotasquirrel.tumblr.com/post/127121121074/otpdisaster-person-a-switching-bodies-with-bs

Link to original post of this fic: http://probablynotasquirrel.tumblr.com/post/127137399349/that-last-what-if-just-tore-me-apart-was-it

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Just keep moving forward, this is almost over. That was what Ripley kept telling herself. After so much death and destruction, it was hard to keep pushing ahead. She was alone, injured, and completely exhausted.

The sound of footsteps shook Ripley from her stupor, she quickly ducked behind an overturned desk. She pulled out her revolver, dumping the empty cases and reloading it with fresh rounds. The footsteps drew nearer then came to a stop. She held her breath for a moment, peering over the top of the desk. On the other side of the hallway, stood a Working Joe, its back to her. She had lost count of the number of homicidal Joes she had put down. Alright, hopefully this is the last one.

Slowly, she stood up from her hiding place and aimed her revolver. With her ammo dwindling, she decided to take a few steps forward to close some of the distance between her and her target. Keeping her eyes on the Joe, she began moving in. She had progressed only a few feet when she tripped on a pile of rubble and went sprawling on the floor. Shit. The Joe turned around and began to move towards her. Still on the ground, she fumbled around for her revolver and grabbed it before standing up again. She pointed the revolver at the Joe and it stopped. That’s really fucking weird. She pulled back the hammer.

“Amanda, wait,” the Joe said in its dull and mechanical voice, its expression unchanged from its usual blank stare.

“What?” Ripley wasn’t sure if she heard it correctly. Am I hallucinating? None of the Joes had ever called her by name.

It spoke again, “Don’t shoot.”

The Joe wasn’t advancing on her, she felt wrong just gunning it down but she didn’t exactly want to have a conversation with it. “Why not?” She sounded slightly hysterical.

“It’s me,” it acted as if that were enough of an explanation.

I’m too tired to deal with this shit. She felt a little angry now, “Who the fuck are you?”

It tilted its head slightly. “Samuels.”

She felt as if she couldn’t breathe, she desperately wanted to believe the Joe, but it seemed far too unlikely. “Samuels is dead, I watched him die.”

“No, not dead.” It shook its head stiffly.

Tears gathered in her eyes, but she didn’t lower the revolver. “If you’re Samuels, then explain to me how you got like this.”

“I can’t, my speech and actions are limited.” It still hadn’t tried to approach her.

Ripley’s resolve was diminishing, she didn’t know what to do. It was all wrong, the thing in front of her did not resemble Samuels in any way. But if it was Samuels, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she killed him. The Joe sensed her hesitation and took a step towards her.

“Stop,” she commanded.

The Joe took a step back, “I’m sorry.”

“What do you want?” There had to be some way to figure out if it was telling the truth.

It didn’t hesitate with its response, “For you to have closure.”

She let out a choked sob, tears began to flow freely. This really might be Samuels.

The Joe tilted its head again, “It’s alright, Amanda.”

This has to be Samuels. Blinking away her tears, she lowered the revolver a fraction. “Samuels?”

It nodded, “Yes.”

Laughing and shaking a little, she holstered the revolver. I’m totally fucked if I’m wrong. “Get over here.”

Samuels approached her, stopping a respectful distance away. Ripley closed the distance and threw her arms around his neck, knowing that it could be disastrous, but Samuels just patted her back awkwardly. She couldn’t stop laughing.

“What’s so funny?” He asked after they parted.

I’m just so fucking happy that you’re alive. “You’re going to be even more insufferable as a Joe and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“I am incapable of laughing.” The dead stare of the Joe that Samuels inhabited only emphasized that fact. “But if I could, I wouldn’t laugh at that.”

“Oh fuck no, I’m not getting sassed by a Working Joe.” Taking a deep breath, she ran a hand over her face, “Alight, let’s see if we can get out of here.”

“Yes,” replied Samuels and they started down the hall. “Why not ask me about Sevastopol’s safety protocols?”

Ripley froze and stared at Samuels in horror.

“I’m sorry, it slipped.” He bowed his head apologetically.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

Notes:

If you like the Ripley/Samuels pairing, you should check out Rosy-Station at http://rosy-station.tumblr.com/ she has AWESOME Alien: Isolation art, she also takes requests :). Also, come say hi to me on Tumblr at http://probablynotasquirrel.tumblr.com/ I would love to hear from all of you! :)