title: stand tall and face it all at skyfall

summary: they are not lovers. but he'll still take a bullet for her at least. / Dietrich and Hudson— in flashes.

author's note: I will proudly go down with this hearty, crack, beloved little sailboat ship. :3 I do not own the title, which is based off the lyrics of 'Skyfall' by Adele. Nor do I own Aliens and its' characters.

xxx

First it was Jenette and Mark. (Of course. Those two are fucking soulmates.)

Then Colette and Daniel. (Fire and ice, that's what they were, alright.)

'Not everyone is in love with their co-worker.' she told him, an eyebrow arched. He laughed and waggled his eyebrows.

'We don't have to be.' was all he told her.

xxx

Of course she should at least get it across, and it was made mutual to him too.

They are not lovers.

xxx

"Did'cha cry missing me, babe?" he had once laughed heartily when he regiained consciousness, despite being mortally wounded and so close to death it was hardly something to laugh about.

She huffed, hardly in the mood for jokes, and nearly threw her stethoscope on him. She couldn't quite tell why she was acting like this— what, why was her heart slowing down so much, was it racing before? Why was the air so heavy— Christ was she about to cry? Over him?

"I seriously hope you die from a painful bullet wound." she snapped.

"Obviously it won't be from this one at least." his cheeky grin got wider.

"One of these days." she muttered, and shot him a half smirk as she continued her examination on him.

"As long as it's one I took for you, it'll be worth it." he assured her, before he succumbed to the pain-numbing drugs and quickly fell back asleep.

xxx

They are not lovers.

But when he first woke up and saw her and her pretty face, god damn did the room suddenly get a little brighter to him.

xxx

And ironically enough, he did take one for her a year later.

The mission tuned into a hostage situation by accident and surprise, and she was held up with a bullet about to enter her head any second. She squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the end, and 'bang bang' two shots were fired and her eyes were ringing.

There's the guy dead behind her, and Hudson on his knees, bleeding at his side, still giving her that cheeky little grin. And then a million emotions came flooding in at once— she wanted to cry, punch him in the face, hug him (?), empty all her weapons out on the already dead guy, and she almost kinda sorta secretly wished it was her and not him. The look in his eyes showed a different story from his smile— 'Cynthia babe, this hurts like fuck.'

"You know princess, this knight in shining armor can't exactly take too many more dents in the armor there." he told her while tears brimmed her eyes, and help quickly came on the way.

xxx

They are not lovers.

But he still kind of keeps a part of her with him. The scar from that bullet wound kid of looked like a capitol D, and he told her it stood for 'Dietrich'.

She merely replied it stood for 'Dickhead'.

And for the record, he'd still take another bullet for her.

xxx

She got engaged months later.

Not to him though.

His heart actually dropped when he walked in and saw it all. There she was with that amateur boyfrined of hers, what was his name, Josh or something. Getting down on one knee. The velvet box. The ring. Oh fuck no— no, no, no, not that ring.

"He doesn't deserve that sweet piece of ass." he would later remark jokingly to his best friend Hicks.

He doesn't deserve anything of her.

xxx

They are not lovers. Not the beautiful, meant to be type.

But neither is she and that little fucker Josh- Joshua- Joseph or whatever his name is.

xxx

It ended as fast as the moment itself began.

"The wedding's off." she told him first, a bit tearfully.

'Hallelujah.' and suddenly his mind did a victory dance more powerful than one after a battle was won.

— Wait a second. Reality check. Did he say something? Had she been talking the whole time? Oh shit— what to do?

On impulse he carefully snaked his arms around her and— hugged her. And— and— she didn't pull away, actually in the embrace she buried her head against his shoulder and sniffled. They molded together, and stayed silent.

And you know what? It felt quite... nice.

xxx

They are not lovers.

But sometimes they sorta-kinda-maybe wish they were.

xxx

"You're a real asshole Hudson, you know that?" she snapped at him once as he approached her without warning. He was grinning his typical smug grin, taking her small hands into his, warming them up.

"I'm a million things to you, aren't I?" he chuckled and winked. She frowned.

"A know-it-all, an airhead, a jackass, a moron, a dickhead, a scoundrel—" she paused from her seemingly never ending list, shooting him back with her own impersonation of his smug. He made a face pretending to be hurt, and leaned oddly closer to her face.

"A scoundrel?" he questioned, astonished, but then shrugged. "All the qualities you searched in your perfect man?" he still wouldn't quit.

She scoffed, in utter disbelief. "I happen to like nice men."

Again, he came even closer to her face, to the point where his breath tickled her neck. "I'm a nice guy, y'know." he said, as if offering himself up.

She merely arched an eyebrow, as he continued to come closer and closer to her. "No, no you're not. Will you're—" and he kissed her before he could give her the chance to pull away; her eyes widened in shock.

Personally, he was shocked about the fact she didn't pull away.

What shocked them more so was that their kiss ended because of an interruption— not because either one wanted to pull away—as poor Hicks seemed to walk right on in at horrible timing.

"I uh... sorry." the young Corporal flushed beet red.

xxx

They are not lovers.

But they sure make love sometimes like they are though.

xxx

This is so wrong. That's all she can think to herself, because that's just all there really is to it. 'This is so wrong— you are goddamn William Hudson, I'm Cynthia Dietrich, we are coworkers, I am still technically engaged— the countdown would've once reached to just one week left, and I keep putting off on giving the ring back to Josh— and still. This is so wrong.'

Most of all, it's so wrong how she doesn't care about that stuff anyways.

xxx

They are not lovers.

Maybe sometimes things are just so wrong they turn out to be right all along.

Or maybe they're just as bad and deserve each other.

xxx

For a million unsaid excuses, they decide to stop seeing each other.

'It's unprofessional, we're better off friends, it's not you it's me, it was never right in the first place,' none of them seemed ot cut it.

And by that point, it was there she learned that maybe she did actually miss him— was she even hearing herself think this?— She was missing him.

Maybe, she supposes, she guess she might've like- liked- him.

All she knows is she hated how things were between them being separated.

xxx

They are not lovers.

Or... are they?

xxx

"Don't worry babe. We're gonna be alright, we always are. As long as the ultimate badass is around." he winked at her, noticing her very pale, almost frightened look on her face. "Don't worry, I'll protect you too, Ripley's not some V. I. P."

She seemed to shake away whatever troubles were on her mind and smirked as he playfully ran his fingers through her hair, before she pushed his hands away. This LV-426 place sure was getting the best of them, he supposed.

"Don't come crying to me when you get another booboo." she reminded him, swatting at him before for the briefest of brief moments— she kissed him.

It was more like a little peck, honestly. But when she shortly elft, smirking to herself in amusement of his frozen face, he suddenly was pumped with enough adrenaline to go charging into a full fledged war.

xxx

They are not lovers.

But when she screams— and he just knows, it's too late— suddenly his whole world burns.

xxx

He never thought he'd be able to empathesize with Jenette Vasquez of all people, but now he could. Drake was dead too, and she looked like a mess that was just barely being held together by seams and stretched out stitches. He'd never seen her cry and wondered if she was going to, or just explode like Hell's fury.

Instead she was stone-faced, and said nothing at first as he sat next to her. She didn't look at him either, and still didn't either when she finally spoke.

"Will— " it was more a choke rather than a statement, and she sighed, as he shot his head up. She obviously knew something he didn't. Otherwise, she would never ever ever call him Will, let alone his legit name William.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." she told him. Her eyes told the rest of the story— 'Because god damn I know how you feel. I hate the fucking world right now and I can't remember the last proper conversation I ever had with Drake. Whatever the hell it was, I sure it hope it was something important.'

The room was silent for a moment, and he sighed.

"I know. I- I am too."

'Love is evil man, just spell it backwards for proof.' someone once told him a long, long, time ago. only now did he fully understand it's cruelty— only to happen once it was gone, of course.

xxx

They are not lovers.

Simple as that.

xxx

He later finds a backpack— oh fuck, it's hers— and wonders if he really wants to do this. Just one last time, just for the hell of it, just to see maybe she left him something. A letter maybe?

Nope. Nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Just typical gear, few protein bars, one of her many small first aid kits, anything that was just so typical from anyone, not just her.

But then he freezes, totally speechless, when he manages to reach from the bottom, and pulls up a bottle labeled in hard, bold, words 'Prenatal Vitamins'.

She... she was... she...

And that's what does him. Real good too. 'Oh shit, shit shit, man. Oh god.' shaking violently, he drops the bottle, the echoes of the bold words harsh like a real nice fucking punch to the gut.

Now he's never one to curl up like a little ball, but he might as well have.

xxx

They are not lovers.

But they're not anything by this rate now— are they?

xxx

He hates himself for how much of a coward he had been acting. And selfish too, on top of that too.

He'd been running and screaming for his own life, and more or less left her to die. He feels physically sick everytime he closes his eyes, and ends up seeing her in his 'confirmed' worst fears— cocooned, shaking, helpless, and screaming in agony just as one of those things... He tries to shake them away as he swallows down some bitter vomit.

And once, just once for a moment, seconds after the power had been cut he thought about their unborn child. So short lived, but so many questions. What would it have been- a boy or a girl? Who would it have looked like more? He had a bit of an idea of a little girl— he knew Cynthia would've loved to have a daughter— beautiful of course, cherubic faced, button nose, eyes perhaps his blue color.

As his hand slips through Hicks's fingers and those things keep clawing at him, a tiny part of him hoped he'd see Cynthia there waiting for him.

His last thoughts were hoping death came quick, and at that same speed would he soon be with her once again.

xxx

They are not lovers.

He is not quite sure where he is, but once he sees her there on the other side, waiting for him like he imagined, he supposes it's Heaven. Paradise, at least.

When he runs, and runs, like nothing else matters and straight towards her, he picks her up and spins her in his arms until he's dizzy, and even then they don't let go. They don't want to, and this time they don't have to.

Ever.

No, they're not lovers.

But maybe, just maybe, they are soulmates.

He chuckled suddenly, to the point of nearly in tears, and she asks what was wrong.

"Know this— I took a helluva lot more than a bullet for you."

And this time, she smacked him shortly before kissing him once again.

xxx

I hope you enjoyed me and this itsy bitsy ship, which you're more than welcomed to join if you want. XD