She'd put Newt to bed in the medlab.

She'd be safe in there; the doors were locked and if any aliens came this way, they'd go for the operations centre where the marines were. She was, in fact, heading there now to find out what was going on. She crept through the corridors, glad that Bishop was with the marines, being kept an eye on. She didn't want that synthetic fucker anywhere near Newt.

Ripley made it to the ops centre. Hudson was outside, setting up the sentry turrets. They nodded to each other and Ripley went inside. Hicks greeted her and filled her in on the current situation.

Bishop had apparently managed to call in a dropship, which was due to arrive in the next few hours. The marines were waiting in the ops centre for it to land, and were generally a lot more relaxed now that a means of escape was on its way. They chatted for a few minutes, then Hicks went out to see if Hudson wanted any help.

Ripley leant back against the wall and looked around. Drake was asleep in the corner, cradling a Smartgun. Vasquez had found a pen and was drawing on the side of his head. Burke, the sneaky bastard, was hunched over a table, inspecting some kind of document.

It was at this point that she realised Bishop was not in the room.

She stuck her head out of the door.

"Hicks?"

"Yeah."

"Where's Bishop?"

"He said he was gonna go look at his specimens."

Ripley's breath hitched. Hudson gave her a quizzical look from behind Hicks. She assumed he meant the facehuggers, and if that was the case, he was alone in the medlab with Newt.

"His… specimens?"

"In the medlab."

She bolted out of the door, leaving Hicks to his turrets. Hudson yelled something after her, sounding vaguely concerned. She didn't catch what he said.

As she sprinted down the corridor, images flashed in her mind. Ash, throwing her across the room, pinning her down. His emotionless, dead eyes boring into hers as he rammed the magazine down her throat. She felt his hands touching her and was hit with a strong wave of nausea. She snapped at herself to get her shit together. She couldn't do this, not now, she had to get to Newt before he got to her. It was only a five minute walk to the medlab, but he was already in there. Five minutes was more than he needed.

She forced herself to move. In her mind's eye she saw Ash's body convulsing, his white synthetic blood spewing all over the floor – the same blood that had run down Bishop's thumb when he'd cut himself. She saw Bishop in the medlab, standing over Newt. Except it wasn't Bishop; it was Ash, crouched on top of her, holding her down, choking her, her small form writhing and unable to scream for help.

She stumbled slightly in her panic, her shoes thudding on the metal floor. Her heart pounded in her head and she gripped the pulse rifle tightly for reassurance. Sweat poured off her as she pushed on towards the medlab.

The medlab door slid open and heavy footsteps echoed into the room. Newt debated briefly whether to scream for Ripley, then decided not to. If it was an alien, Ripley would have seen it on the cameras.

Sure enough, a large human silhouette strode across the medlab. Newt sat up and the intruder turned around and frowned.

"B-Bishop?"

"I thought you were with Ripley."

Newt shrugged. "She went to ask Hicks what was going on."

Bishop hummed in response.

Newt squinted up at him.

"Bishop?"

"Yes?"

"Why doesn't Ripley like you?"

Bishop sighed and walked over to sit on the makeshift bed.

"Do you know what synthetic means?"

Newt nodded. "You're like the people from the canteen. They're all dead now, though."

"Oh."

"You don't look like them. You look human."

"Well," he took a breath, "I was built by Hyperdyne Systems and distributed to the Marine Corps as a technician. Ripley is distrustful of me because the A2 unit on her last mission malfunctioned and…" he faltered for a moment, "and tried to kill her. From what I understand, it also succeeded in killing several crew members."

Newt's eyes widened and she edged away from him slightly.

"You wouldn't do that, though, right?"

Bishop tilted his head. "No. I'm a 341-B unit. My programming would prevent me from doing such a thing."

"But could you? If you wanted?"

"I don't know; I haven't tried." He paused. "I wouldn't want to."

Newt considered that, then nodded.

"Bishop?"

"Yes?"

"What's going to happen?"

"To us, you mean?"

"Will we die?"

Bishop frowned. "I hope not. I've sent for a dropship, so theoretically it should get here in a few hours and we'll be able to leave."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Then I'll pilot the ship in manually. It shouldn't come to that, though."

They sat in silence for a while. Newt shuffled over and clung to Bishop's sleeve.

"Bishop?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm scared."

Bishop hesitated and furrowed his brow, unsure of how to respond. After a few seconds he said: "Me too."

"What happens if they get in?"

"I don't know. The sentry guns should hold them off for a while. After that I'm hoping the dropship will have landed."

"What if they get me?"

"They won't. I won't let them. Neither will Ripley. Especially Ripley." The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "Ripley will save as many of us as she can. Except possibly me."

Ripley approached the medlab. In her mind was the image of Ash – of Bishop – beating Newt into submission.

She snuck through the back door. It was quiet. No screaming, not like that meant anything.

She hid around the corner and watched their reflections in the glass door.

He wasn't hurting her. He was sitting on the edge of the bed next to her and they were talking. She was safe, and Bishop was doing nothing to harm her. Bishop, she reminded herself. Not Ash.

She sat down and watched them in the glass, the pulse rifle clutched to her chest. There was no point in bursting in and scaring Newt. She'd wait for him to actually try something before shooting him.

Bishop's deep voice rumbled through the wall. She couldn't make out the words, but they were slow and soft and held none of the malice that Ash had exhibited. Newt said something quietly, causing Bishop to chuckle. Ripley blinked. It hadn't occurred to her that synthetics even could laugh. Bishop responded and they had a fairly lengthy conversation before quietening down. It struck Ripley that this was the most Newt had actually said so far to someone other than her.

Bishop's reflection raised an arm and Ripley's finger twitched over the rifle trigger. Newt moved towards him, clinging to his chest, and he gently draped the arm over her shoulders. Ripley watched as the two hugged, feeling slightly bad for doubting him.

They stayed like that until Newt fell asleep in Bishop's arms.

Ripley stayed there for at least an hour, until she was completely sure he wasn't going to suffocate her or anything. Eventually she allowed herself to relax.

She took a quick glance around the corner to look at them in person, rather than via the reflection. If Bishop saw her he didn't say anything. She thought he might actually be asleep.

Did synthetics sleep? She wasn't sure.

As she stood up, she saw that he had slumped back against the wall. His eyes were closed and his arms were wrapped protectively around Newt, who was resting against his stomach. He looked almost endearing.

Ripley hesitated, then smiled and left them as they were.