Cenosure

by Eleuthreomaniaa

Summary:

Grad Student and Anthropologist Easton Winsley follows his Thesis Advisor to the edges of the known universe, where, aboard the Prometheus, he meets an android named David. David has never met a person quite like Easton, and finds himself wanting to explore every aspect of his unique human experience with him.

fic inspired by the songs Not by Big Thief
& This Comes From Inside by The Living Tombstone

Notes:

This is going to be my first full fledges ‘series’. I will do my very best to keep up with consistent updates. We need more David 8 content, hopefully this can help encourage others to write more too (PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE)

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

if you like this please comment your engagement means the world

The first step out of that helicopter took his breath away, the towering spires of rock stretching out towards the blue sky. As an Anthropologist he had been to many sites before this one; Petra, Angkor, Skara Brae, but something about the untouched serenity of it all made it so much more different.

Here hardly a trace of humanity could be seen, at least where they were. Easton Winsley was a grad student on this trip, and with unflitered excitement he tightly gripped the straps to his backpack, wandering slightly ahead.

”Winsley, wait for us!” His Thesis advisor, Dr. Elizabeth Shaw, called from behind him. He turned, catching the smiling eyes of the redheaded archeologist. Behind her was her husband Dr. Charlie Holloway, who carried a majority of the remaining gear. Winsley enjoyed the pair, them having quickly become something akin to parental figures to him, even in the short time they've been acquainted. Only a few more people to go from off the helicopter before it ascended again, a wave from the pilot was their final sendoff.

Now the mission would officially begin. A few months prior, back when Winsley first started working with Dr. Shaw, they had heard a rumor of ruins hidden in the Isle of Skye, where they were now. Something about it wouldn't shake from the Doctor’s mind, and so within a few short weeks she already had a mission statement and a crew, all that was left was the funding.

They had approached the school Winsley studied at; the prestigious Weyland University, coined after the man himself. They had been intrigued and granted them the support, and off they were.

Dr. Halloway took the lead of the group, looking over everyone before pointing up the speckled slope of luscious grass and boulders. “We set up camp at the top!” A cacophony of groans followed before the treacherous hike began.

It wasn't unlike anything Winsley had done before, and he wasn't a stranger to hikes. But maybe 50 pounds of equipment was never meant to be good for the body or soul. It took what felt like 15 minutes of panting and looking out over the view as they climbed. It was unforgettable, and not just to Winsley. Dr. Shaw had trailed back to hike next to him, her enthusiasm hardly dampered by the trekking.

”I wish everywhere looked like this, untouched, untainted.” She sighed, Winsley nodding in agreement. Much of what was left of Earth was cities, an attempt to quell the homelessness epidemic caused by the intense overpopulation. But here, there was nothing, only the reminder of what they had all come from, mud and water.

Everyone came to a stop as Dr. Holloway scoped out a relatively flat plot of land, turning back to the group. “We set up camp here, once we are done we can scope out that.” He pointed up to the gaping hole on the side of one of the rock spirals, it seemed to be rather shallow, maybe not even worth a look. But if Dr. Holloway was anything it was stubborn.

It came as a brief relief to know they were taking at least a small break, and Winsley unbuckled the giant backpack from his back and let it fall to the ground. He felt a million times lighter, stretching up as a gust of breeze ran over the landscape, cooling his hot sweaty skin.

It seemed his peers felt similar, a childish giddy settling over the group as they got unpacking. It was simple equipment for the most part, dental picks, trowels, a large horsehair brush, a measuring tape, nails and rope, and a sleeping bag and small tent all of them were required to have. As Winsley emptied his bag to the grass his hand brushed over the smooth leather cover of a journal he had decided would be useful for the trip. For all of his studies and work he kept notes and sketches, so that when his final paper would come he knew what he would write about, everything right at his fingertips.

Dr. Shaw and Halloway began to plant their tents, and before long 5 beige tents sat up, swaying slightly to the wind, filling the landscape with unmistakable life. The wind definitely wasn't unwelcome though, the hot light of the sun beating down on the group. Much like the rest, Winsley was ready to get into that cave.

Holloway had turned his attention to the other scientists in the group, Dr. Shaw slipping to Winsley’s side. “Let's go up ahead, see if it's even worth it.” She suggested, and after a brisk nod she walked over to Holloway with a soft hand to the back of his shoulder. She whispered to him before he looked back to Winsley, a look of something, maybe jealousy, flashed over his face for a moment before disappearing. Was it possible there had been nothing there at all?

There wasn't enough time to think it over as Dr. Shaw grabbed her tool bag, already on her way up the last stretch of the hill. They climbed over sharp dark rocks until the entrance loomed before them, the mouth going about 4 feet in before stopping. Why would there be an entrance to nothing?

Dr. Shaw seemed to be thinking the same thing, setting her bag down to riffle through it. She pulled out a hammer, looking to Winsley as she handed it up to him. “Check if there's any possibility of hollowness, there's a chance it could have been sealed.”

He took it, the weight tilting his hand down to his side as he approached the rock wall in front of him, brushing his fingers softly over the dark sediment before he got to work. He started to tap along the wall , almost touching his cheek against it as he listened for any difference in the echo of the rock. After traveling all the way here, he hoped there was some merit to the rumors that led them. Almost like a friendly god had listened to his thoughts, something was different about the next few taps. To make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, Winsley followed where he had tapped before then back to this new mysterious spot. It was indeed different, and likely, hollow.

Dr. Shaw approached, a bundle of tools gripped in one of her hands. “We were right weren’t we?” She asked, a smile filling her face from ear to ear.

”Yeah, thank god it wasn't for nothing.” Winsley smiled back, feeling a ball of restlessness roll around inside of his chest. He wanted to know what was behind it. Dr.Shaw began to work, raising the chisel to the rock, she took the hammer from Winsley before making a few sharp strikes. Chips of rock fluttered to the ground, a small hole now making its way into the wall. She continued to plug away at it until there was a hole big enough for a flashlight beam and eyeball, peering in with held breath.

As if unable to contain her excitement she reached back, gripping Winsley's arm. “Get Charlie.”

…

After 4 long hours of investigating the tomb, the sky began to settle into calm hues of oranges and pinks. It felt like maybe even the world was celebrating their findings, the group at least especially was.

A large fire had been built in the middle of the circle of pitched tents, Dr. Holloway insisted this was a monumental discovery, and that everyone should be proud of their work. It really hadn't felt like Winsley had done much though, minus the replication of various paintings from the walls into his journal. As a grad student, he expected about as much though in comparison to the highly educated people sitting around him.

Everyone had a bag of easy hiking food, Winsley’s being something that resembled beef stroganoff. It definitely didn't taste like his mothers cooking, but it was edible, and he knew he needed the calories. As he picked through his meal, the rest of the group had finished, glasses being handed around.

A smiling Dr. Holloway had left the group, only to return with a large bottle of chardonnay. He passed the bottle down the line, everyone filling their glass. It came down to Winsley, who decided to abandon his meal in favor of the alcohol. Dr. Holloway waited until all glasses were filled, and eyes focused on him.

”Today,” He began. “We have found the last piece of evidence we need to know that we’re not alone in this universe. Concrete evidence that maybe we weren’t the first ones on this planet, and I think that deserves a toast. To discovery!” He cheered, raising his glass. Everyone followed, playful banter being tossed around the campfire.

The celebration continued until the sky was littered with twinkling stars, leaving Winsley out by the smoldered embers of the fire. He laid against the grass, his eyes trained on the sky above him. He had been briefed on their theory before he had agreed to finish his graduate studies with the pair, but the confirmation that it was true made him feel smaller than ever out on this hill. In this universe even.

He sat up with a start as one of the tents rustled behind him, Dr. Shaw stepped out. She didn't say a word as she walked over to sit beside him, looking out into the cosmos. A comfortable silence had settled between them, before she began to speak.

”Charlie and I are going to present our case to Mr. Weyland, we called and had a meeting set up, we have to go find them.” She told him, her gaze lingering on the sky before she finally looked at Winsley.

“That's amazing, Dr.Shaw, you both deserve it.” He echoed the same congratulations from earlier, a small bit of hesitance gripping his chest this time. If they were to leave, he would need to find a new thesis advisor, he knew. He would miss the Doctors, even after the short time since taking him in.

“You do too, you’ve worked hard to get here, Easton.” She spoke, her tone soft as she glanced at the tents around them, as if to make sure her volume had not stirred any of their inhabitants. The use of his first name usually caught him off guard with the doctors, them never faulting in their professionality. But this felt different, personal even. “And actually…we’ve been talking, would you like to come with us?”

The question caused Winsley to freeze, only for a second as a warm feeling flooded over his face. He must’ve looked as bright as a tomato in that moment, and he thanked the dark that shrouded them. “I would love to, Dr. Shaw.” He smiled, even though he knew she couldn't see it.

“Great… we're heading out first thing to go collect all of our studies for our case, so try to get some sleep.” She patted him gently on the head, before getting up and returning to her tent.

And that was that. Easton Winsley was going to space.

Chapter 2: Awakening

Summary:

The story begins.

Birds chirped. Winsley stirred from his place in the grass, eyes squinting to harsh sunlight that now bathed him. He must’ve fallen asleep out here, he decided, sitting up in a bundled blanket. The ground underneath him wobbled, unsteady. It was a trampoline, where the night prior he had staked out the best spot in his yard to watch the meteor shower.

”Elyse, it's time for breakfast sweetheart.” A sing-song voice called behind him, the sound of a porch door swinging open. He rubbed his eyes, turning to look at his mother. She stood, flour coating the front of her baking apron white. It was as if she had a fight with the bag, white speckled her hair and face. She didn't seem bothered, gesturing again to her son.

Winsley grabbed his blanket to his chest before crawling to the edge of the trampoline, his feet becoming coated with the dew. He bound across the yard to his mother, tightly wrapping his little arms around her as best he could.

She ran her fingers through his long hair, smiling. “Come on, I made pancakes.”

…

He blinked and it was gone, replaced by a harsh fluorescent light. Everything felt like it was spinning. His legs and arms heavy, the only things grounding him. The burning bitter sting of bile built in the back of Winsley’s throat and in a panic he quickly sat up to puke over the side of the… cryopod he was in.

As the sickness fell out of him his confusion ebbed, flooding back the exhilarating situation he was in. Right after the final excavation they had flown to meet Mr. Weyland personally, who was more than ecstatic to pursue their lead.

It took a few months to find a planet system matching any of the ancient art they had on record, and once they did they were told a time and place to meet. They had to pack bare essentials and off they were, Weyland would take care of the rest.

When they were told to meet they didn't expect to have to strip down the moment they set foot in the Prometheus, the scientific vessel that would be carrying them on this mission. With great trepidation, Winsley decided against any chest wrapping for his cryopod immersion, and now, awake with scars showing to the world, he regretted his past selves decision.

A warm presence to the back of his neck made his head jerk, a splitting pain in his temples berating him for the action. It reminded him of when he got his first concussion playing Soccer in Highschool.

“Hello, my name is David. Your mind and body are in a state of shock from the cryostasis.” An English voice spoke in a calm, even tone. Winsley peeked around, a tall blonde man was watching him, his piercing blue eyes meeting him for a second before flicking away. A smooth bowl was pushed into Winsleys hands. “This is all completely normal, when you're starting to get oriented head to the mess hall, you all must eat after that journey.”

“Two years in cryo… felt so short.” Winsley mumbled, trying to hold down the lump building in his throat. David nodded, resting a hand to his back.

“That it does. Others are waking, if you need anything just call.” With that the man whisked away, everyone in the room was groggily coming to the same consensus; they were finally here.

After a few sickening heaves all of the cryo fluid had been expelled, and a much stronger feeling settled over the grad student; hunger.

He got to his feet, careful to avoid the mess he had made on the floor. First things first was to find his quarters. He crossed his arms over his chest, ducking out of the room before anyone could try to keep him.

The ship was one of the most expensive things Winsley had ever experienced. He imagined millions, no, billions went into its manufacturing. It was well worth the price, everything was clean and streamlined. Just as he contemplated where to start down, an announcement from the ship's computer system, named MUTHER, offered some brief directions.

ALL CREW QUARTERS ON SECOND LEVEL LEFT DOWN THE HALL.

Winsley made a quick 180, realizing he was going the exact opposite direction. He found his way quickly, rooms with little black touchpads to the right of each door. It was easy to assume they were scanners of some form, likely fingerprint scanners.

Unknowing of specifics he passed by each one, trying his hand. Others sluggishly joined him in the hallway, following his method. After the 3rd pad the door wizzed open. Delighted Winsley stepped inside, desperate to cover himself.

His bag rested on the bed, seemingly untouched in the whole two years of cryosleep. This didn't bother him. More surprising was the seemingly freshly folded laundry beside his bag. A crew issued uniform, he assumed. There was a grey t-shirt sporting the Weyland logo and a pair of grey canvas cargos sat beneath. Seemed he had the hard part of picking an outfit already done.

It took no time at all for Winsley to dress, the rumbling in his stomach savage and tempting. He found himself making his way down to the mess hall in minutes, being led by a mixed smell of fruit juice and cryo fluid.

The hall was cute, reminding him of the kitchenettes given to the dorm students back on Earth. Yeah, back on Earth, what a weird thought. Not only was he not even remotely near his home planet, but they were about to set foot on a whole new one. The idea made him queasy, or was that the hunger?

There were more important things to worry about, he decided, the most important should be eating. He joined the line of other dressed crewmembers, although none of them were awake enough to want to talk. It was quiet for the most part, but the familiar voices of Dr. Shaw and Dr. Holloway approached behind him, as they too joined the line.

“Winsley, isn’t this exciting?” Dr. Shaw, noticing he was there, gave him a light nudge with her arm. He smiled, tucking some stray hairs behind his ear.

“And anxiety inducing.” He responded with a small laugh, grabbing a tray as they scooched up. He put some slop on his plate, something that looked like rice pudding although he doubted it was. Astronaut food sucked.

”At least if you're anxious you know it means something.” Dr. Holloway commented, passing a tray to his wife as they too gathered some unappealing pulp for breakfast. Winsley shrugged in agreement, getting a glass of what he hoped was fruit juice before finding an empty table for him to eat. The other two joined shortly after.

They ate in relative quiet, seemingly all ravenous from the time they spent asleep. This was fine though, giving Winsley plenty of time to scope out the others sitting around the mess hall.

There was a man with a red mohawk and face tattoos sitting at a back table, a scowl on his face plain and clear reading ‘do not talk to me’. It seemed another member of the crew wasn't so observant, as he sat down across from him with a hand extended. The new man had curled brown hair, and an excited smile on his face. He seemed more awake than most on this ship.

A woman in a chrome suit walked through the hall, someone he recognized as Meredith Vickers. She had been present during the meeting with Weyland. He wasn't surprised that at least one Weyland dog was here, especially after all their generous funding. She walked over to talk to a man in a small inlet room, what looked like a joint perched on his lips as hazy smoke drifted around his head.

”What is that?” She remarked, loud enough for most of the room to hear. Dr.Shaw and Holloway turned their heads at the sound. The man was adorning a small Christmas tree, sized perfectly to place on a table.

”It's Christmas. Need the holiday to show times still moving.” He responded, a gruff american accent seemed unbefitting for him. There was a cultural diversity here, something Winsley found himself grateful for. An opportunity to work with so many new types of people.

”Mission briefings about to start Captain, better make your way down.” Vickers quipped in response. He shrugged, taking the joint in his hand for a moment to exhale.

”Well I haven't had any breakfast yet.” He responded, taking another puff before snuffing it out onto the table. The blonde woman rolled her eyes before stalking back out of the mess hall without another look to anyone.

That's when Winsley spotted David. He stood to his own in the corner of the room, watching everyone catch up on the nutrients they needed. Something of his serenity captivated Winsley, he didn't look particularly groggy or anxious. He looked calm, as if nothing could shake him. And it wasn't even just that, truly the man was gorgeous. He seemed to have noticed his staring and Winsley quickly turned his eyes back to the Doctors, who had already finished their meals.

They rose from the table, Elizabeth smiling to Winsley. “We have to prepare for the briefing, when you're done just head down to the gym.” With a little wave they left the room, and Winsley focused on his meal, determined to beat the rest of the crew there.

…

David had felt the ogling looks being passed from across the room, it burned into his sensors until he was forced to check. And there was that man again, his brown eyes soaking into his, only for a moment, before he awkwardly returned to his companions. Dr. Elizabeth Shaw and Dr. Charlie Holloway, he recognized from their files.

David already knew the other too, Easton Winsley. A grad student, by far the youngest and most inexperienced of the ship. It was clear that fact wasn't unnoticed by him, David could see his nervous scanning of the room, the way he focused on his breathing. He was out of his depth, David knew.

For that he crossed the room, a muted face of soft concern displayed as he approached the table. He was glad the Doctors had decided to leave, offering him the opportunity before him now. “Is everything alright Mr. Winsley, I noticed you seem a bit pale.” The younger man's eyes rose, as if surprised to be addressed.

”I'm quite fine, just … adjusting. Thank you though David.” He responded, a small smile being flashed towards the android. David knew though he was yet to be aware of that fact.

“I theorize that this is much different than your prior work?” David couldn't help the intrigue that burned within him. A curiosity that had only grown since he first read the grad students file. Most perplexing to him was your gender marker, a specialized ftm label. David had been taught of the complexities of human sexuality and gender, but had yet to ever meet a person that fit under those studies. Until Winsley.

”Much.” WInsley laughed a little, taking a sip from his drink. People around the room began to stir as breakfast started to come to a close. “I'd never even seen a spaceship before, well, two years ago now technically.” He rubbed the knuckles on his hands, having not made eye contact with David again since he caught it across the room.

“It will definitely be an experience to list in your resume.” David spoke, before giving a curt nod. “The meeting will be starting in 3 minutes, I would finish up.” With that the android left, but the sensation of burning eyes followed him until he was out of sight. Easton was much different than the version he saw in his dreams.

Notes:

Hey guys, not feeling uber confident with the characterization of David in this right now. If theres any comments or suggestions feel free to leave them here or on my Tumblr @Eleuthreomaniaaa. And to clarify, the first bit is a flashback to our protagonist’s childhood. For my own reasons I wont be misgendering him in flashbacks, but the use of the deadname was to showcase it for those who missed the /transgender tag, and to specify FTM.

Chapter 3: Corporate Disallusion

Summary:

It’s time to get briefed

The gym looked like the most normal gym Winsley had ever stepped foot in. It reminded him of elementary school and the Pacer test. He shuddered slightly at the thought. Everyone was already there, besides the redheaded man, who sauntered past. Winsley followed, finding the open seat beside him.

With the crew seated, Ms.Vickers walked out in front of the rows of chairs.

“Good Morning. For those I hired personally…” Her eyes swept over the sitting group. “—it's nice to see you again. For the rest of you my name is Meredith Vickers. It's my job to make sure you do yours. Ok. On with the show.” She stepped to the side as a hologram began to materialize.

“Weyland Corporation. Building Better Worlds.”

The company mantra was recited in the same voice as MUTHER, although you didn't doubt it as a coincidence.

A whole room inside a room was being generated. An old man, likely close to 100, slowly made his way forward. A dog followed him, walking in between his feet and cane until he stood at the front.

“Hello friends. My name is Peter weyland. I am your employer.” He rested both hands on top of his cane. If it wasn't a hologram, it would be easy to imagine him looking out at each person in the crowd. Winsley could still remember the intimidating aura of the man when they had faced him at his office, and even now he can feel that ego radiating. A man with a presence that's for sure.

”I am recording this 22 June, 2091. And if you are watching it… you have reached your destination, and I am long dead. May I rest In peace.” No surprise there.

”There is a man sitting with you today, his name is David. He is the closest thing to a son I will ever have. Unfortunately he is not human. He will never grow old, he will never die.”

Winsley couldn't help his gaze wandering back to the android. It made sense now. The missing exhaustion a normal member of the crew would've been feeling, the flatness of his voice; it all should've been a dead giveaway. The use of artificial people was normal in society, but meeting one in the--well--flesh was new.

“And yet,” Weyland continues, pulling Winsley’s attention back from David. “He is unable to appreciate these remarkable gifts because that would require the one thing that David will never have: a soul.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the smile on David's lips disappear, so faint it was almost invisible. But Winsley noticed. He could imagine that feeling, being disregarded.

“I have spent my life contemplating these questions, where did we come from? What is our purpose? What happens when we die? And I have found two people who have convinced me they're on the verge of answering these questions. Drs. Shaw and Holloway, if you would please stand.” Mr. Weyland gestured them forward.

Dr. Shaw shared a nervous glance with Dr. Holloway, who gave her arm a light squeeze. They shuffled up to either side of the holographic old man.

“The Titan Prometheus wanted to give mankind equal footing with the gods… and for that, he was cast from Olympus. Well, My friends, the time had finally come for his return. Doctors, please. The floor is yours.” The old man turned, hobbling back the way he came until the simulation ended.

The room felt smaller, the atmosphere provided by the hologram gone. It was a little taste of home, the noise. He knew spaceships were quiet, but even with the whole team gathered he could hear the blood pulse in his ears.

Holloway let out an awkward laugh, gearing up to go into their sciency spiel. They had rehearsed it many…many times, as soon as they got any support from Weyland. Just like that they began, Dr. Holloway was ecstatic to finally be able to present it. Granted his theatrics were slightly cringy. Winsley had argued against the cube flash drive projector. Dr.Shaw had agreed it ‘looked like a rubix cube’. But when Dr. Holloway is set on something he’s set. Winsley heard a snort from the tattooed man beside him as the doctors’ presentation came to a close.

”So you're saying we're here because of a map you two kids found in a cave, is that right?” He was anything but amused. Winsley wasn't surprised, even at first he was even taken aback by the proposal. He wasn't religious, but his mother had been.

The doctors answered simultaneously, pausing after their contrasting replies before Elizabeth took over. “No. Not a map, an invitation.”

“From who?”

Elizabeth shifted awkwardly before replying, “We call them Engineers.”

“Engineers?…Do you mind telling us what they engineered?”

“They engineered us.” It went quiet for a beat.

”Bullshit.”

The curly haired man from the mess hall laughed, sitting forward in the chair with an interest in the conversation he had not priorly had. He was right in front of Winsley, but he knew there was that same ear to ear smile as he spoke.

“Okay so do you have anything to back that up? Look, if you're willing to discount.. centuries of Darwinism that’s…” he gave two sarcastic thumbs up. “…But how do you know?”

“I don't. But it's what I choose to believe.” That last comment seemed to be final. Dr. Shaw looked slightly proud to be able to shut down the line of questioning. Halloway took a small step forward and grabbed the cube projector from the ground, and that was that.

Everyone rose from their seats, it was still hushed. It seemed everyone had been subdued by this new question of their origins. Were they anxious? Winsley was.

“Hey so uh what are you doing on this ship. You chummed up with the doctors during breakfast, do you believe their little theory?” He was stopped by the tattooed guy, who stepped in front of Winsley as he went to take his leave.

“Dr. Shaw is my Thesis advisor, I don't think I would be here if I didn't.” Winsley responded, raising his brows slightly. It was the first confrontation he was having on this mission. Calling it the first, though, is an assumption that there will be more. Winsley hoped the opposite would end up coming to fruition.

“Oh yeah you do look young don't you. What are you 19?”

”I'm 25… Actually.” He wouldn't say it, but he would end up turning 26 on this trip. New years day; January first.

“What are you studying— sorry couldn’t help but overhear. Im Milburn, Biology.” The man appeared quite frankly out of nowhere, a hand outstretched.

”Winsley. I'm in grad, Anthropology.” He took his hand and shook it firmly. Or at least he hoped it was firm…enough.

“Fifield, geology.” The redhead didn't look at either of the other men.

“Oh Fifield, I thought you weren’t here to make friends, huh.” Milburn seemed to be referencing a conversation the two had prior. Was this the scene that Winsley saw in the mess hall? Must be. FIfield wasn’t amused. It didn't seem like much amused him sometimes.

”Well, if this becomes a shitshow it's good to have compatriots.” Winsley didn't like the narrative that was beginning to be spun. They weren’t just some wackjobs, and nothing bad was going to happen… not so long as the Drs. Would allow it.

”I trust the doctors, I was with them on the Scotland excavation. Have faith.” Winsley spoke up, although it didn't seem to do much with his outlook.

In the time they had taken to chat all of the chairs in the gym were put away, and David was now approaching the trio. “Mr. Winsley, I would like to discuss something with you, when you have a moment of course.” He had a small, controlled smile. Even knowing he was synthetic he was remarkably human.

“We can right now, it was great to meet you two.” Winsley smiled awkwardly to the scientists before being led out of the gym.

“I was given the task to monitor your medication,” David started as soon as they passed under the doorway. They were in a brisk pace to the medical bay. As they walked WInsley was trying to note the ship's halls, get familiar with the layout. The medbay doors contracted as they approached, David quickly crossing the room to point out a cabinet.

“It will be left in here if you should need it, but it was advised that we should meet in the mornings, to be sure you're receiving it adequately.” He spoke in as precise a manner as he moved. Winsley nodded, it might be good to have a little reminder. Especially if they, well, find anything. He already knew he would be in hook, line, and sinker if they did.

He was already unlocking the cabinet, taking down a bottle of Kyzatrex and popping it open. A single white pill rested in the middle of his palm, and he grabbed a small cup of water to hand off to the grad student.

”Thank you, David.” The android inclined his head, a small smile still rested on his face. Winsley took the medication from him, tipping back his head to quickly wash it down. Even as a kid he hated the way pills feel, but it was better than an injection.

”I have a question, if I may.” David spoke again. It wasn't something Winsley was expecting, but catching the look of sincere curiosity in the other's eyes, he obliged.

”What made you decide to go against what you were?” The phrasing was crude, at best. He squinted for a moment before finding a way to respond.

“I think I was always this way, but I needed to find myself.” It didn't seem to soothe his intrigue but he didn't ask anything else.

“I appreciate you indulging me. I need to go find Dr.Shaw and Dr.Holloway now… but I would recommend approaching the main deck. The view is marvelous.” With that the android whisked out, leaving Winsley feeling… flushed? The level of charm programmed into that robot was uncanny, and even then, he felt too real to just be an android.

Notes:

This chapter is shy bit shorter than the other two sorry guys wanted to get something out today.

Chapter 4: Encroaching

Summary:

Everything's going according to schedule as far as the crew is aware… right?

Winsley wasn't sure where to go from there, so he ended up pacing the halls of the Prometheus. The soft drone as they drifted through space followed him the whole way to the bridge. David’s suggestion had nagged him enough, so now he had to finally see the marvelous view for himself.

The bridge was a long hexagonal room with seats built into the walls, adorned in shades of soothing blue and grey. Columns of consoles lined the first half of the room, screens floating from the ceiling over the stations. A single console sat at the end of a catwalk, and there the Captain stood.

Winsley hadn’t expected the room to be abandoned, but only one person being in there was as equally unexpected. Especially it being the rather intimidating Captain. He didn't seem to realize the student was even there, and Winsley was too distracted to make him aware.

The soft haze of the planet outside the ship drew him in like a moth to a flame. He couldn't help it. The intricate pale blues and pinks webbing over the surface of the peach planet was beyond even his greatest dreams of space. Of course it wasn't the planet they would be landing on, no that would be too easy. The much smaller planet, a pea in comparison, that we would be landing on drifted along the larger planet's dusty ring. It looked uncomfortably similar to earth. Everything out here only reminded him of home, an alien estranged version of it. He assumes that as time passes, so will that feeling.

“Never been in space before?” The captain had noticed Winsley and his ogling of the view. He jumped slightly, startled, before his eyes met to the captains. Dark brown irises met back to Winsley, but in no where could he find any malice or amusement. He could feel himself calm from the realization.

“Not one… the first time I even ridden a plane was this year with Dr.Shaw.” He admitted, a crack in his voice making him want to sink down into the ship and get swallowed up. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Honestly, this must be the greatest job in the world. To get to see all of this all the time.” He almost felt a pang of jealousy towards the flight crew. What stories they must have to tell.

”It's a good job if you aint got nothin tyin you down that's for sure.” He responded. An expression, not quite wistful, crossed his face. It's almost as if he could smell the anxiety wafting off of Winsley, and he too cleared his throat. “But lucky for you kid you've got the best Captain from The United Americas Air Force driving this big beauty.” He gave a few pats to his console.

Winsley couldn't help but feel embarrassed, he still didn't even know the Captains name. Damn Weyland for sending them out with utter strangers. No roll call or name games, just out of the bucket into the frying pan. “Sorry… you are?”

”Yanek.” He smiled a little, as if almost amused by the conundrum. “My boys Chance and Ravel help me fly this ship, those glorious bastards will be back soon. Every pilot needs a continually filled cup of joe.” As he spoke he grabbed his own cup, taking a long swig. It happened to be the perfect time as the infamous ‘bastards’ arrived at the bridge.

”Drink it fast, Vickers wants us to start our descent as soon as she's done with the Drs.” the captain rolled his eyes. It didn't seem like anyone thus far was overly enthused to be working with her.

Winsley took this as a hint to find a spot, and as the Pilots took the first two consoles, he didn't see why he couldn't sit down at one of the further ones. He went to walk off before the captain spoke.

”The Drs. Will be sitting up here if you want to join them. First rate view for their first rate student.” He nodded to a few chairs along the wall closest to the dropoff in the floor. He peeked over the edge, the glass dome cupping underneath the room but reminded him of a fish tank.

”Thank you.” He murmured, taking the seat furthest from the edge. Sacrificing his view was fine so long as he couldn’t see what was going on below them. That flash of a glimpse just pure darkness of space underneath the ship. The horrifying vast inky emptiness.

“Sorry wait, were you given a list of everyone's names?” He realized he hadn't given him his yet. The captain nodded, although his back was turned as he pressed some code into the console.

”Yup. Captains gotta know his crew.” Lucky. It seemed like he was going to say something more but was interrupted as the vicious blonde stalked into the room.

One could imagine her chrome suit cost a hefty sum. It was clearly made to fit her like a glove, and, well, it was efficient. ”Captain, are we ready to begin?” She asked, but in a way that was clearly demanding him to be ready.

“You got it Vickers.” He responded, having turned to give her a long glance before going back to his console. The two Dr.s followed into the room after a moment. Vickers probably sped walked to get here even those few seconds first.

Winsley waved them over, and Elizabeth's face lit up. He knew she was loving this, being so a part of everything. Holloway, on the other hand, looked angry. He noticed that since he had entered the room, Holloways fierce glare had tracked vickers every step of the way. Did something happen?

It didn't feel appropriate to ask now, and as Chance called in everyone on MUTHERS intercom it felt even less appropriate. Everyone got strapped in, and across the room Winsley could see David at one of the consoles. He sat next to another crew member he didn't quite recognize yet. it could be his eyes messing up, but he could swear that David's eyes were alight with excitement, plausibly for the mission.

”Alright Mr.Ravel, Mr.Chance, take her down.”

”Roger that.”

“Yes, Captain.”

As if the ship was a mighty beast waking up, it yawned and shuttered as they began to enter the Thermosphere. “Descent trajectory mapped.” One of the pilots called out, the rumble of the turbulence almost squishing out his words.

”How are we doing?”

“Great.”

”All right boss.”

“All personnel, this is the captain, brace for impact… that means you too Vickers.” He gave a sly smile back to the Weyland exec. Who had thus far stood near the back, disregarding any seats around her.

“All Systems online.” MUTHER hummed over the working men.

”What is the Atmosphere?”

”The atmosphere is 71% Nitrogen, 21% Oxygen, traces of argon gas.”

As they entered the inner atmosphere of the planet Rain began to pellet the ship, dark ominous peeks looming below them in thick fog. The ship, although perfectly capable of performing the task of exiting and entering the atmosphere of planets; it shook as if throwing a tantrum.

“Woah, now that's weather.” Yanek exclaimed, gripping his console like it was a challenge.

”Just like home.” Holloway hummed.

”Only if you're breathing through an exhaust pipe. CO2s over 3 percent. Two minutes without a suit, you're dead.” The woman beside David piped up, her thick Scottish accent piercing through the sounds banging around them. It reminded Winsley of a neighbor he had growing up in Vaxjo, an older lady who would come over for holiday parties. He grew up close to her before moving to England to attend the University. He wondered where she was now.

”Peak port side. Whoa 52,000! Makes Everest look like a baby brother.” She called again, craning her head over the lip of the bridge.

”All right take us round, we’ll use that as our point of entry.” Yanek commanded, pointing off somewhere outside. The Pilots clearly understood , and like a well oiled machine they maneuvered this multi-hundred ton vehicle as if it was a sports car.

“Terrain Data rezzing up, got a couple of hard spots. Could be metal. No radio, No heat source.” Ravel spoke over an incoming view of black dark sandy mountains, what looked like huge chunks of volcanic rock dotted the landscape.

”Nobody's home!” Milburn called, almost pleased.

“Let's go through that gateway, reduce airspeed by 100 knots. Going through nice and slow, keep it steady boys.” The captain barked his order, drumming his fingers rhythmically over his console.

“There!” Holloway unbuckled himself from beside the two others, launching out to run across the bridge. Shaw tried to grab him but he was too quick. The captain gave him a nearly startled look before returning to the task at hand.

“Mr. Holloway, why don't you take a seat?” Janek tried to call as Holloway leaned beside the foot of his console, raising a hand to point out at a ravine between the mountainous terrain.

“Right there, God does not build in straight lines. Starboard side! This Valley! Captain, do you think you could put us down there?” He was buzzing with excitement, every part of Holloway was nerding out over the observation.

”Yeah I wouldn't be any good if I couldn't do that. Mr. Ravel Starboard 90 degrees.” The ship thrummed and roared as it began to sharply turn and find somewhere suitable for the gargantuan spacecraft to land.

”One mile, port bow.”

”One mile, port bow.” Ravel relayed.

”Engage landing sequence, switch to manual.” Yanek turned as the pilots began to furiously steady the ship. The halt in midair made Winsley bounce slightly forward in his seat.

“Roger that.”

The captain cooed to the ship as they approached the ground, MUTHER commencing the landing order. His countdown began as the dusty expanse around them began to seem level to the ship.

”One.”

A final huge thud as the machine gave into the earth was as inviting a sound as any. Everyone leapt from their seats and approached the front. They all stood in quite awe, they were landed and able to touch the first real solid ground in 2 years. And more ominous; the giant circle structures lining down the valley. It felt as bad an omen as any. It sent a chill down Winsleys spine.

Holloway held his wifes face, kissing her head softly before looking at Yanek.

“Captain would you please tell the survey team to suit up, and meet us in the airlock”

”There's only 6 hours left of daylight, why don't you leave it until the morning.”

”No, no, no. It's christmas captain, and I want to open my presents.” Holloway all but ran out the door, snapping at David as he passed him. “You, Boy. You’re coming with us.”

Nothing was betrayed by David's expression as he responded curtly. “I’d be delighted.” Was there nothing? For a moment it felt like Winsley saw a flash of upset in the android's eyes, but just like that it was gone. Just a moment.

…

In the airlock they suited up just like Winsley had been told. The whole crew ran about 3 suit up drills before they officially boarded.

He could likely do it in a dead sleep. Looking around, he thought most of them could.

Everyone filtered out between a truck and two dirt buggies. Wind whipped across the planet's surface, battering the newcomers with a cold front. Winsley had a bag of supplies wrapped around his mid center and he scooched awkwardly into a spot. Shaw sat at his far right, Fifield close on his left. Holloway scrambled past them, the last to get into the vehicle.

He sat across from his wife, taking her helmet and clinking it to his as the car took off. “This is just one small step for mankind.”

”Seriously?” She rolled her eyes, the three men at the end of the van did as well. Holloway responded with a laugh before turning his attention to the others in the car.

”Come on, are you excited for this, I know you are.” He elbowed Milburn to his right, who shared an exacerbated look to the boys across the aisle. Fifield only grinned.

They were whipping across the sand, jumping over small ripples of sand jostling them around. Before any of them knew it they were already encroaching on the weird structure. Up closer now it was clearly a domb with a large wall circling around it, except for in one strip. That was where they would enter.

“Hey Fifield I want a spectrograph of this structure. I want to know if it's natural or if someone put it there alright.” Holloway had crept up behind the drivers, gazing out with a mixed look of hesitance and unbridled curiosity.

“I can't tell you if it's natural or not but what I can tell you is… it's hollow.” This was the first time Winsley had ever heard Fifield even slightly, well, scared. It only softly enveloped his face, but it was there. The shadow from the building eclipsed over the car, casting the van in darkness besides the yellow/green leds built into the internal collar of their helmets and suits. It cast an eerie glow over their faces as the cars came to a stop. It distantly reminded Winsley of an old movie he had seen, Ghost rider. Their eyes and mouths enveloped in shadows while the rest of their faces aglow. It gave Winsley the heebie jeebies.

They filed out, everyone staring down into the crevice of an entrance below the structure. It was dark. But had most definitely been put there on purpose. Hesitantly Winsley followed the Drs., who had been the first to head towards it out of the group. Why wouldn't they be? This was a marvel, history happening in front of their very eyes. But was it history? No, they were rediscovering it.

they dropped in, having to crouch to be able to fit down further. It dropped off another foot again, opening up into a wide rectangular room with a corridor tucked against a corner. They all knew where they were going.

“Prometheus was going in.” Shaw patched into the suit’s coms that linked them to the ship.

”Copy that.” Yanek replied clear as day.

They wandered into the tunnel, it pressed against them with cold whispers brushing against their suits. They entered out into a cross section with 5 off spouting tunnels. Holloway turned, pointing his flashlight at the floor.

”Mr. Fifield, I'd like to get a grid of the structure. I want the whole interior.” He asked, looking around to where the darkness hid the corners of the room.

”If there's anything in here worth looking at these pups will find them” Fifield had crouched, digging into the duffle bag he brought with him. He unloaded 6 metallic balls, pressing into their center and sending them alight with a red glow. They flew up into the air, barking and whining before spinning off down the varying halls. As they were sent off Fifield stood and howled.

“Prometheus we are now mapping.” He reported back.

”Ever seen anything like this?” Milburn had basically pressed himself between where Fifiled and Winsley stood, as if trying to use the people around him as a safety blanket to wrap himself in.

”No. It's like a cavern. I've seen dig sites similar to this in Brazil. Except it was Giant ground sloths… I wonder what could've made this.” Winsley spoke, turning around to observe the room.

”Could be something functionally similar to a ground sloth. Highly unlikely to be the real animal.” David had overheard his comment, gazing around as interested as everyone else.

”Yeah alien sloth? Not buying it.” Fifeld scoffed.

”It’s too smooth anyways, there would be evidence of claws.” Shaw pointed out, having overheard the discussion.

”I’d guess maybe a machine did this… but that indicates much more.” Hollow chimed in, before looking to Fifield for where to go next.

”Yeah… guys. Pups are saying this way.” The corridor they had entered ended in a split, but following the electronic map imbued into fifields suits they chose a path and stuck to it. The sound of water dripping as they progressed had them all looking about. Down here? They were led into a large room, condensation raining down from the walls and ceiling. A large hole sat in the middle of the room.

“Sunlights heating the water. Check out the humidity.” The Scottish lady looked up from the led panel on her suit wrist.

“Look at the C02 levels. Outside it's completely toxic but in here there's nothin. It's breathable.” Holloway breathed, before raising his hands to begin unclipping his helmet. Everyone at once snapped their attention to the science officer.

“What are you doing?? Charlie, don't be an idiot.” Shaw noticed, bewildered by his stupidity. Winsley felt much the same, but it was the same impulsive stuff the Dr. Was known for.

“Hey, don't be a skeptic. There's clearly something generating an atmosphere. David?” He waved his hand at the android.

“Dr.Holloway is correct.” David confirmed, peering down the hole in the floor with his flashlight.

“Cleaner than Earth actually.” As she spoke Winsley was finally able to find the Scottish woman's name, since it was literally written on her head. Ford.

“They were terraforming here” Holloway had an immediate theory, and it settled over the group like lead. Something, was, or is living here.

“Please don't do—“

“Ellie i'm not wearing this thing anymore.” he shook Shaw away as he managed to get the latch undone.

“Dr. Holloway, do not remove your helmet. Do you copy? Do not remove your headgear.” Ravel from the ship warned over the coms, ending in an audible sigh as his helmet was finally lifted off.

Holloway took a dramatic breath before laughing, hooting into the open space of the room.

“You crazy bastard,” his wife rolled her eyes before deciding to follow suit. One by one everyone took their helmets off, Winsley waiting till last. He felt like this was an irreversible decision that would seal the fates of them all in that cave. But maybe he was anxious. So he sealed his fate along with them.

“Prometheus, if you want to keep watching this shit show we are taking our helmets off.” Fifield spoke into the helmet's com system before clicking it off.

“Copy that switching feeds” Janek sighed.

The first inhalation was almost overwhelming, Ford hadn’t been kidding. Winsleys lungs had never felt this full, and so clean. Everyone seemed to be feeling the same way. It was exhilarating. Compared to a lot of people living on earth, Winsley had even been lucky. His town wasn’t as developed, as over crowded. And so much of the smog wasn't so bad, and the summer heat not as cruel. When he moved for his studies, the overcrowded city of Greater London was debilitating. Either raining liquid that burned your skin and throat or it was full of toxic smog that required facegear to leave the house. And in the summers, it was lethal to breath in the air outside without protection, the poor always suffered the most during these times. Unable to get away.

They flashed their lights around the cavern, all settling on the only exit. A single dark corridor tucked away in the far back. It felt almost like the setting for some seriously bad shit to go down. Winsley decided to pull out his sketchbook, this was. All a discovery of a lifetime he needed to start getting diagrams in. He got to work as they walked into the corridor, everyone shivered as they entered. the temperature had instantly changed.

”It's minus 12c in here.” Ford pointed out, the dripping condensation from the tunnel sprinkling into their faces and hair.

”So why is the water not frozen?” Holloway asked.

“Maybe it ain't water” Fifield quipped as they stepped over large slimy stones.

“Maybe it's martian piss.” Milburn smiled, clearly finding himself funny. He kicked rocks with his suit boots, sending them scattering into the small pools along the ground.

“That's your scientific theory. Is it? Mr biology?” Still, Fifield was never entertained.

“Well whatever it is, it sure is collagenous. Maybe sediment perhaps.” Milburn gave up, shrugging.

As the group continued inwards Winsley noticed David stray back. He was focused on something on the wall, which looked like a carved square slab panel. Winsley turned away from the others, clutching his journal tight as he inched to David. He was undisturbed by the others' approach, and seemed to have gotten some sort of slime between his thumb and index finger. It began to glow as he stretched it, and he muttered to himself as he rubbed it away.

He began to swipe along carved symbols on the wall that Winsley hadn't even noticed before. Was this some sort of ancient technology or sign? How did David even see it?

A light followed the androids fingers and Winsley, who had just begun to sketch, stood there perplexed.

”But…that's solid rock.” David finished whatever he had been doing so skillfully, and angled his head down to gaze at the Grad student.

“It seems they embedded it with some sort of nanotechnology.” He responded, his head snapping down the hall as a sharp sort of electronic scream echoed from the way they had come. As soon as they both heard it, David had a hand below Winsleys shoulder blade.

“What was that?”

”David?”

It continued, getting louder at an assumed approach. A static sound began to accompany it as the furthest part of the tunnel they could see began to glow blue.

”DAVID?”

The sound intensified until running figures began to charge at them. David quickly pulled Winsley to him as he tucked them both against the wall, narrowly missing as the holograms raced past. A line of maybe 5 went by, the rest of the crew diving to the floor to avoid whatever they were. It ignored them all the same.

”I'm really glad we didn't bring any weapons. Whose Idea was that?” Fifield yelled as he scrambled to his feet, everyone in the party following. It took only a moment for them to haul down the hallway. The sound of ragged scared breaths and rapid footsteps bounced from the walls. Winsley and David were dead last as they found the rest of the group hesitating approaching a corridor opening to their rights. Winsley tucked his journal into his armpit as they joined the crew.

“Oh my god Charlie we found them” Dr.Shaw gasped, spotting a figure that looks akin to any of the holographies that had passed them by. Winsley weaved between the crew blocking the way in, slipping behind the Drs. He spotted it, a pale humanoid laid at the foot of a door. So their thesis, everything had been right. His knees felt weak. They found the creature that made the human race.

“What do you mean?” Fifield asked, his voice shaking and on the verge of a shout.

“It is them Ellie. It looks like a door… and it's been decapitated by it.” Holloway approached, clicking into his coms to connect to the ship. He was right next to the corpse as his flashlight flicked up to the door. Etchings laid in the stone, but a small slab panel up near the top reminded Winsley of the one David had found in the hall.

“David…please tell me you could read that” It seems the Dr. noticed too as he nodded up the wall.

“Perhaps” His voice was close enough to brush Winsleys ear. He passed by him, gazing up where Holloway had pointed to. Of course he would be able to, he was able to in the hall.

“Oh nah no I’m out of here.” Fifiled waved his hands and picked up the equipment he let slip off of his shoulder. He shook his head, holding it tight as he spun at the entrance, as if looking for a reason to not venture away from the group.

“Hey Fifield where are you going” Shaw had noticed his attempted departure. Fifiled whipped his head to her as he heard his name stalking forward towards the Dr.

“What? I'm just a geologist. I like rocks, I love rocks, and clearly you two don't give a shit about rocks. but what you do care about is gigantic dead bodies. And since I don't have anything to contribute to the GIANT DEAD BODY ARENA. I'm going back to the ship if you don't mind.” The explosion from the red headed man left a hush from the group. Winsley couldn't help but shake his head, extending a hand in front of Elizabeth as if to shield her. “Who else is with me, ship?” He flicked his eyes over the Grad student before deciding his answer, walking to Milburn instead.

“Ship? Yeah… ship sounds good” The biologist quickly agreed, as equally freaked out as the other.

“Yeah, the ship is really good. Congratulations on meeting your maker.” He had walked back, getting close to Dr. Shaw's face as he spat the words out.

“Thank you.” She responded tartly.

“Hey man, cool off.” Winsley tried to diffuse the situation, but Fifield had already turned to leave. Milburn followed quickly on his heel.

“I thought you were the crazy one.” Winsley heard Milburn mumble as they disappeared the way they came.

“Do you have the carbon reader?” Shaw had quickly approached the corpse, crouching down close to it as her fingers traced the air around the body. Her eyes flicked up to Winsley’s and he passed her the tool from his carry on.

“How long has it been dead?” Holloway asked as the long piercing tip of the carbon reader was inserted into the alien. It chimed as it finished formatting a response.

“2000 years give or take.” She responded, before lifting her head to where David had climbed the wall. His fingers traced the panel the way they had before, small barks and chirps emitting from the runes beneath his touch.

“What are you doing david?” The Dr. asked.

“I'm attempting to open the door.” He responded placidly.

“Wait don't— we don't know whats behind there.” Shaw jumped to her feet just as the door loudly groaned, and creaked open. The first time in 2000 years.

“Oops… sorry.” The android wasn't concerned as he came back down the wall. He hopped down, head craning into the newly opened room. It was huge and ovular, tall black vials were intricately dotted over the sand floor. A gigantic stone head sat in the middle of the room, with art etched and painted into the walls and ceiling. It looked akin to tombs dedicated to ancient Egyptian royalty.

“Look Ford, the head.” An elephantine head sat a foot away from the body, where it had tumbled and sat. It had large eyes that reminded Winsley of bug eyes. Nothing about it looked human, but these were our true predecessors?

“An amazing state of preservation.” Ford murmured, her fingers twitching as she refrained from touching the head.

"Remarkably human” David had passed further into the room, his flashlight focusing on the head Winsley had noticed upon entry.

“There's some beautiful paintings…” Winsley had lost focus from the mummy at their feet as his light focused on the crisp lines of paint along the ceiling.

“It's a mural.” Dr. Shaw had shifted her attention to Winsley, looking up as well. Her unadulterated wonder for the room left her entranced on all the details surrounding them. She touched a hand to Winsleys shoulder, squeezing with a pressure that could be felt through the suit. It was so simple, but felt so maternal. Winsley untucked the journal from his arm and got to work.

“Stop don't. don’t touch it” The science officer had noticed David crouching next to a vial a bit off from them and walked over to meet him. Winsley ended up wandering forward, but his feet felt planted to the ground as he stood transfixed in the middle of the rows of vials, staring up at the giant head. Its figure had been furiously scribbled into his book, and he was slowly trying to work on the murals above their heads. He was enveloped in the graphite world he etched into its pages, so much so that he hadn't noticed David approaching behind him, peering over his shoulder. Until the crew member pointed his light from his drawings to the same figures he was eternalizing.

“Your attention to detail is incredible.” The android mused, and Winsley responded with a shy smile.

“Almost all the details, I have no clue what's etched on that head.”

“More like who's etched on it. It's a name; Deacon.” David had responded, his blue eyes flicking from the subject to the artist.

”I wonder what significance that would have in a place like this.” Winsley shook his head, as if trying to shake a thought into his head as he wrote down the translations. A Deacon was usually used to refer to an ordained minister, was this a religiou room? Maybe this is where they came to pray and worship. But that didn't answer any of his questions about the vials all equally spaced around them.

“How many undeciphered glyphs do you think you have in that book of yours?” David asked, intrigued in Winsleys journal again. He watched the man as if he was the most wholly interesting thing in that room. It felt almost overwhelming, the intensity of his attention.

”I probably have a few…”

”I could always help read them, if you'd like.” Winsley tried to hide the widening of his smile, clearing his throat and covering his mouth with a hand.

”That would be lovely David… Maybe after this mission we could. I could probably find questions scribed in here that I’d love to hear your insight on.”

”A plan it is then.” He nodded, smiling before he began weaving his long legs between the vials. Winsley couldn't help but unabashedly watch him leave, every interaction left him rather speechless. This surely couldn't be his intention, but it left him with this taste in his mouth. A sweetness of a crush just forming in his throat. but that was so childish, getting butterflies over a coworker. It didn't help that he was already the youngest here… or that David wasn't even a real person.

Winsley couldn't help but wonder if he really even believed that. David had a cheekiness and wit that bordered on humanity. It made it hard to not justify the blooming feeling he felt. Maybe it all made sense? A specially funded mission by the head of Weyland himself would want the best most functional android right? David fit the bill.

“The painting is changing. I think we affected the atmosphere in the room. We need to-“ Shaw had begun to yell as a message was patched in over the intercom.

“Drs, do you copy? This is Yane, need you to hussle back to the ship right away there's a storm front rolling in with enough static to fry your suits.” Everyone nodded to the warning and began to make their way back out of the cave. Not winsley though as he stared up at the paint on the ceiling that was stripping until the only thing that showed was the dark black rock underneath. If it wasn't just a trick of the light, Winsley would have said that it almost looked like the mural was rotting.

”Winsley, come on we need to go.” Shaw's hand at his shoulder pulled him from it, but the ball of dread had already begun to untangle and clog inside of his chest. They shouldn't have come here. Winsley closed his journal, tucking it into his waist bag as he joined the Drs. In a swift attempt to bag the head. It was heavy, at least 100 IBS give or take. It gave Winsley pause, but Shaw had already hoisted the straps up and over her shoulder as they all hurriedly left. That woman was as determined as a bull, and as impressive as one too.

They raced down the halls after putting all their helmets back on. Wind that had not reached into the depths of the cave priorly began to encroach, sending chills and ghostly whispers through them.

The way out was far faster than their progress in, and as they encroached the entrance they had to hoist themselves up onto the rock lip and inch out.

Sunlight shining overhead blinded them, but it wasn't long before the sun was shrouded out by a thick black cloud, and it wasn't a friendly sight. The storm was already on them. The consensus came to all of them as they packed into the trucks and final remaining buggie. It seems that Milburn and Fifield had already left for the ship, much to their likely relief.

Since the van was already packed Winsley jumped into the driver's seat of the rover, yelling at Shaw to hurry as she rushedly clambered into the small back trunk, clutching the headbag to her chest.

The van had already begun to race across the sand, dust billowing in its wake. The furious wind of the storm was tickling their backs, and so Winsley punched the gas to the floor and put the vehicle into drive. The wheels turned uselessly against the sand for a second before they shot off towards the ship. They chased after the armored car, the storm looming ominously behind them. They just had to make it back into the Prometheus, the only safe space in this barren planet. Winsley just had to keep on driving.

Notes:

Next chapter will be MUCH shorter and in Davids pov <3

Chapter 5: Innately Human

Summary:

Davids Pov…

David had taken a hold of the Van’s driving wheel as the group shoveled into the back. His eyes drifted out the side window where he could see the grad student, Winsley, and Dr. Shaw loading into the buggie. It was only a glance as he decidedly bumped the throttle into gear and began to bound over the ever shifting landscape. Sand was being swept up from under their tires and being sucked into the storm approaching fast behind them.

David was disconcerted with it though. From observation he could tell the storm-front was moving at 112 Kph, about 20 less than the car. It would be a close call but far enough for everyone to be safely returned to Prometheus.

Despite the dire situation at hand, David couldn't help but think about the vial he had shoved in his bag. It sat tantalizingly in the passenger's seat beside him. What a mysterious object. During his time inside of the cavern he had quickly deduced it to contain some sort of organic material. It had begun leaking from the lid as they noticed the murals melting. In the confusion he had managed to sneak away with it. As David thumbed through his memory drive he couldn't help but return to the amiable Anthropologist in the head room, as he so dubbed it.

His eyes had been alight with an insatiable spirit of inquiry. It was even so imbued in the figures he etched put into his journal. David would never say it aloud, but that was one of his favorite human behaviors to observe. Journaling. It fascinated him, the human brain sprawled into papyrus. One can tell alot by how a person writes. And for David, he appreciated the extra help with figuring out the rather enigmatic man. There was still plenty more time, he decided, as he archived the thought and returned to the task at hand.

They whipped across the earth as fast as the van would carry them, David’s eyes flicking between the door mirror and the rapidly approaching ship. The great belly of the flying vessel was open wide, all they would need to do is slide right in. David calculated it, knowing an immediate stop upon entering would park the car perfectly.

The car floor beneath David’s feet jostled as the wheels graced the lowered door, creating a ramp for the returning expedition. He halted and swiftly hopped from the driver's seat, gazing back out at the buggie still humming over the sand.

The storm was perhaps a meter behind them, they evidently had a much later start. Winsley’s eyebrows were narrowed, dark eyes trained entirely on the entrance of the cargo bay. It was a fierce determination that only a human in peril could muster. A result of thudding adrenaline.

The cart rolled over the ramp, and as the much lighter cousin of the armored van, the back end bounced off the lip and upwards. There was a sharp cry from Dr.Shaw in the rear as the bag she had clung to was thrusted from her grip. Winsley noticed instantly as the Dr. yelled, throwing herself from the back after their sample.

”Ellie!” Dr. Holloway shouted just as he exited the back of the van.

It wasn't quick enough as the storm caught up, sweeping Dr.Shaw up into the air and throwing her far out of view. David within a second had begun towards the upper airlock, a rescue procedure that was ingrained into his programming lighting up inside his mind, but paused as Winsley flew by him. The grad student had furiously drifted into a park, launching out of his seat and into a sprint across the bay.

He seemed to know where the airlock was as well, his eyes boring holes on it as he hauled himself up a spindly metal ladder to a grated catwalk. David's sensors were hot with confusion, at both the quick action of the man and the disregard of the android who was quite literally built to protect the crew. Human emotions never hesitated to give him pause.

There was panic among those who made it in but he made the decision to follow, flying up after with ease. Winsley was already by the door, trying to find the emergency line to clip into his suit belt. The student's tousled brown hair was continuously being pushed aside as he desperately searched. David remained quiet, watching as he overlooked the line only just barely poking out from an entrance along the wall. He moved towards the shorter man, reaching up to pull the wire down and clip him in.

“As the resident android, I can't in good faith recommend for you to go out there.” He spoke, Winsley’s eyes quickly darting around to meet him. The direct attention to his words was startling, as most brushed him off rather swiftly. His eyes flicked over David, as if considering his words truly for a moment. He looked back to the airlock with unwavering resolve.

”No, I need to get our Dr.” He punched the button to the door. It retreated to expose the sight of blurring dirt, rock, and sand debris howling outside. It was thick and brown, and if it wasn't for the LEDS on Shaw's suit David doubted Winsley would have ever spotted her.

There wasn't an ounce of hesitance as he leapt out of the ship’s safety once again, the storm eating up the student. He watched as they made contact and there was a strange tug to the carbon fiber rope that tethered him to the ship. David recognized the signal and began the automatic reeling of the wire.

The lights of their suits reproached until Winsleys foot landed to the lip of the airlock. David reached forward, grabbing his upper arm and pulling him further in. It could be the suit, but David felt a ripple of hard muscle before he released the anthropologist. It defied his appearance starkly. He clicked the door shut and the never ending roaring of the storm outside was dulled, resigned to small clinks and clack's as the storm brushed the side of the Prometheus.

”Good work.” David mused as he unclipped both of the scientists. Dr. Shaw had, surprisingly, kept a firm hold of the bag. Her rashness had not been entirely for nothing. Her face was pale, sweat beats dotting her flushed cheeks. As her brain caught up to her body she gave Winsley a firm hug.

“Thank you Easton but that was entirely reckless-“

”Like you weren't?” The usually garrulous Dr. Holloway had trailed up the catwalk, waiting until his wife was returned to begin berating her. David could recognize the immediate anger and fear that intermingled on the Dr’s. face. but there was something there, something so underlining and innately human. Jealousy.

”You jeopardize our entire mission, and what then if you died Ellie. Our entire reason for coming here would be gone, squashed by your st-“

“Hey,” Winsley quickly stepped in front of Shaw as her husband approached with menace. “Your wife just recovered one of the most single-handedly important artifacts from that pyramid for this mission.”

As the scuffle began, David had moved to Shaw’s side. “How are you feeling?” He asked, scanning the suit for any abrasions that could render it unusable. It was likely better this way, he had learned through experiences with Vickers that spiteful people like to use synthetics as an easy release.

“Just sore…” her voice was hushed as she watched Winsley and Holloway, the expression she wore was conflicted. She wasn’t the only one. The others still on the lower floor of the Cargobay stood with their attention on the two men.

“Listen I don't need a little girl to tell me what's what, and as far as I'm concerned you're only here to observe. Not to have an opinion.” Holloway had rancouriously spat back at Winsley, his hands balling at his sides. The student's face was pusillanimous, his eyebrows turning up for a moment before becoming ambiguous. Even for a sophisticated AI like David.

As he was about to open his mouth again Dr. Shaw put a hand to his shoulder. “Enough, Winsley.” Was all she said, her gaze searching both of the arguing men’s faces. But it was clear who she sided with.

She passed Winsley to face Holloway, whose expression was if anything but reflective of his words. The Drs. Left without another word, leaving David and Winsley at the airlock door.

His stance was unchanging as they receded, prompting David to rest a hand on his shoulder. He flinched slightly, as if being knocked from a trance. “Sorry…” Winsley mumbled, looking down to hands he hadn't realized were clenched to his sides.

“No need.” David's voice was intentionally softer than he usually had it, overly conscious of the other’s hammering heart rate. Still in fight or flight. “Did you get hurt at all?” He knew he still needed to scan Winsley for any injuries, but he was waved away.

”No… I’m fine David… Thank you.” For the first bit since the doctors had departed, his eyes met the synthetics. The usually meek 25 year old’s eyes were rimmed with red, as if capable of overflowing at any time. He shook his head before heading to the ladder and sliding down.

David did not follow, watching the student retreat. Milburn and Fifield approached him. They looked at each other before both rested an arm around Winsley’s shoulders. “Yeah you fucking tell those scientists.” He could hear Fifield muffled speech as they both went to go back into the Prometheus. He had sorely misjudged them before, their gentle care of their crew member proved as much. It couldn't help but leave a resonance of longing within the android, he wanted to be relied on like that by him.

Chapter 6: Warm Dark

Summary:

Some fluff was in order

The night was young, and celebration kept it younger. There were mixed emotions on the ship that night, and while ultimately no one got seriously hurt; there was unwaivable tension. Since returning from the mission not a soul had heard a lick from Vickers, who Chance said had stomped out of the bridge right after the drs’ discovery.

It didn’t seem to be just her, everyone felt the weight of what they had seen. Some handled it by skepticism and sarcasm, while some questioned their fields. This truly changed their entire understanding of…well, everything.

“Fortunate for you Easton youre totallyyy set with that paper of yours.” Milburn mumbled, drinking burbon from the ships supplies. Yanek, Fifield, Chase, Ravel and Winsley all sat with the Biologist in the mess hall. They were all who were left out and about in the ship. And with Vickers corporate ass busy, they could all finally relax, and according to Yanek; alcohol was in the orders. Lucky for them all it was a highly stocked ship they had flown out on, Weyland wouldn't let the finer things slip.

Winsley laughed, taking a sip of a glass of Vodka the boys had procured for him. They seemed to all be sympathetic to his argument with Holloway, minus Fifield, who egged him on for more.

“We’ll see with, that um paper now. I’ll need Shaw to pass it off, uagh i hope i didnt just ruin it all.” He frowned slightly, but Janek shook his head.

”Kid you still came up here, nothin can change that fact. Regardless of what them doctors do have to say bout it.” The captain had gotten a simple bear, which his pilots had followed suit on. He worked at it, and Winsley shrugged.

”We’ll all have something to show for it I reckon. Would be one hell of a resume addition; ‘present during the discovery of human origin.’” Fifeld commented, causing a barking laughter from Ravel.

”You were hardly there, Rafe, running back to the ship after seeing its shadow doesn’t count.” He had winked, the geologist giving him a push to his arm.

”Come on what was I supposed to do— we’d been scared half to death cause that android went touchin shit then a giant corpse appears and I'm supposed to go joyously jumping from the rooftop.” He valiantly defended himself, swaying the tequila in his glass and glaring over at Milburn.

”You ran too pussy.”

”Neither of you can say anything. I'm the only one who hadn’t ran.” Winsley lifted his hands defensively when both of the other men groaned.

”Yeah only one that ran to jump out the side of the ship during a storm too,” Yanek noted. “Can't say that's a good thing neither, I was in the service 15 years and on tours like this shit will go wrong. Don't be in a hurry to die to try and prevent it.” He shoved his beer towards Winsley, as if a dad scolding his brash son.

”I wasn't thinking, I just needed to get her.” Winsley mumbled under his breath, taking more of the burning alcohol. He grimaced as it ran down his throat, nearly choking as Fifield patted his shoulder.

”At Least he got to knock Holloway down a peg.”

Winsley shook his head, he hadn't gotten the bitter feeling from earlier out of his chest. Still, he felt some sort of allegiance to the man. It was Shaw’s husband, he was only scared for her safety. He reminded the group as much and they shrugged it off.

The conversation continued, shifting away into a far more typically male conversation, much to Winsleys anguish…normally. He was approaching his second empty glass in the span of an hour they had all gathered, and he was admittedly feeling rather content.

“Fellas, I’ve gotta level with you; that Vickers is damn good looking.” Yanek had started, scratching the dark stubble on his chin. Chance shook his head disapprovingly and Ravel gave Chance a suspicious squint.

”You would take a lap dance from her in a minute so don't shake your head.” The tease made Chance’s eyebrows raise offendedly.

”I am a child of purity.” He divested.

”She reminds me of a female mantis, she’d probably chew your head off.” Milburn interjected.

”Seems like the captains keen on that.” Winsley and Janek shared a grin as he held his chest and laughed.

”It’s part of the appeal, keeps things interesting.” He turned to place a cigar between his lips, puffing it slowly and thoughtfully. He was about to light it when Fifield raised his hand.

“Nah I’ve got something better.” Fifield produced a joint from his company issued sweatpant pockets. Janek let out a lowly laugh and the rest of the group sat forward in their seats. As this nightmare blunt rotation was about to commence, Holloway slunk past the group into a private room. He had bottles in hand and seemed ready to drink his night away.

He tucked away from the rest and they ignored him just the same, more consumed each other than a mopey Astroarcheologist. Admittedly, here hundreds of thousands of meters from Earth; Winsley was trying weed for the first time.

He nearly coughed a lung out on his first hit, and everyone laughed at the newbie. His eyes stung and his throat burnt, and he was ushered to drink more of his drink to fix it. They continued to pass it around until it burned itself into a stub and was put out. By that time everyone was lounging and crossfaded. It seemed to ease every ounce of tension the day had amounted to.

As the group laughed and teased one another, David had passed by to slip into Holloway’s drinking chamber. While it escaped the attention of the others, Winsley had noticed the moment he heard the familiar slapping of the android’s flip-flops along the floor. It seemed to be these little things that kept drawing him to David, even the crinkle of the crows feet by his eyes. If they weren’t meant to be given attention to, why create them at all. It was almost as if every little piece of him was meant to be nothing short of captivating.

“Whatcha a starin at.” Even if they hadn’t noticed David walking past, they sure saw the staring that followed. Winsley hadn't been aware, a few of the others had stopped their conversations to eavesdrop.

”Not your ugly mug.” His grin stretched across his face as the smart response slipped off his tongue. Those were fighting words, and the Geologist got up to put a playful headlock around the man. The others hooted like schoolboys as Winsley struggled for a second, the room spinning at the jerky motions. He slid to his knees from his seat on the table’s benches and brought the other down to an awkward crouch. He took advantage of the moment and grabbed Fifield’s legs, lifting him up and off of the ground and over his back. He landed with a thud and a loud grunt. The four onlooking men were sent into a cacophony of laughter, and Winsley even let out a breathy laugh.

”Sorry mate, couldn't help myself.” Winsley helped pull the other man up off the floor and the two drunkenly stumbled into each other. They plopped back down on the bench, out of breath.

The racket had seemingly drawn David from whatever conversation he was having with Holloway, standing in the doorway with a puzzled but moreover concerned look. “It's approaching 23:00 gentleman, we have an early morning expedition back to the pyramids as per the doctors asking.” They all groaned at his suggestion.

”Come on David, loosen up, have a beer.” Janek offered it to the synthetic, who waved it off.

“It wouldn't have the desired effect on me.” He offered the captain a tight lipped smile, his gaze unshaken from the quickly paleing grad student. “Seems you might’ve had a bit too much Mr. Winsley.”

He jerked his head up at the mentioning of his name, a queasy smile seeming to agree with David. “He's stealing me boys—“ He hiccuped and raised a hand up for help. Alcohol always made him agreeable, even for bed.

“We’ll see you in the morning kid, try to hold onto that liquor.” The captain waved goodbye as the rest of the party laughed and jeered him on. David held him up as they wobbled off towards the crew quarters.

The white floors on white panels with white tube and white wires of the halls blended together in Winsleys head as they walked. It felt like it took forever. According to David’s internal clock it had only been 5 minutes.

“I think it would be best to get some rest, sleep the liqueur off.” David spoke softly, guiding him into his quarter. It was the first time since waking up that he had gotten a chance to lay down. But right now, with the afterthrum of celebration, his brain was running far too fast to let him shut his eyes.

“No, no I told you I’d show you my journal… in the big room with a fucking—mygodhumanhead…” The brown haired man ran his hand over the stubble he forgot to shave before cryosleep. Contemplating one's existence under the influence of alcohol wasn't going to be a good trip.

”I remember, Mr. Winsley. If you insist, I wouldn’t forgo the opportunity.” David responded thoughtfully, his head quirked at Winsley, who fervently nodded.

“It’s Easton, and as far as I’m aware we're officially off the clock.” He yawned, waving in the direction of a weirdly placed armchair in the corner of his quarters. An invitation to sit. The blonde android pulled it beside the bed as Winsley pulled his journal from his detached suit satchel.

”Strictly speaking; I am never not working—but I do appreciate the notion.”

”Right, uh, consider this a break then, David.” Winsley mumbled as he leafed through the pages of handwritten texts and intricate sketches of varied Human wonders. Despite his rather messy mind he kept everything categorized, little tabs poking out ever so slightly from in between weathered paper. He ended up on his entries from his trip into Skara Brae, when he tilted the pages to show his muse. David hummed in recognition.

“‘The Scottish Pompeii’, I’ve heard. Offered much insight into neolithic western European culture.” David had commented what he felt was a simple thing, but when he met Winsley’s eyes he could see the burning, albeit drunken enthusiasm he ignited.

”You’re right! And even after 243 years since its initial discovery we still don't have an inkling of what their letters mean… but actually David, couldn't you trace it?” He perked up a bit as his eyes investigated the runes and patchy alphabet that Winsley had attempted to curate in the page’s lower corner. It was abstract at best.

“There were similarities in figurines made in the Links of Noltland sites, but they both seem to be intrinsically norse in nature as well, specifically Elder futhark. Which—is typically to be expected for the location. If these are the only examples of the language I wonder if there's a possible decryption at all…sorry, I am no Anthropologist but this here was etched above the bed chamber, yes? It's separated by these colons into three sections. I assume it's the name of the bed owner. Humans have always been curious with their possessions. I would need time to collate it through MUTHER to get any more accurate framework for it.” David put a curled finger to his chin as he continued contemplating the ancient writing. This answer though seemed satisfying enough to Winsley, who over the course of his retort had ended up with his legs leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, I think me and Shaw got to about that same conclusion. But its contested of course cause nothing can be simple in science and blah blah blah but I think it could have been maybe even latinized futhark which time I know and yatta yatta but we just found the origin of the human race and it's like this super smart species so like who even knows anymore...” He rambled, changing the page without allowing David much more time. He got a glimpse of the next page and hurriedly rushed by a chunk more, which caused the androids’ eyes to perk curiously.

”May I ask what these pages contain?” David decided to mention. This made Winsley shift uncomfortable on the bed for a second as he considered.

”It's just embarrassing sketches from my visit to Athens… it's nothing special.” he shrugged it off, hesitantly going back through. The pages displayed were quite more detailed than he downplayed, shaded in softly smudged graphite. The Acropolis of Athens, tens of Parthenon sculptures, and a page capturing the statue Athena Parthenos intricately. But, it only took a hard stare to realize her face was off, softer, cheeks more hollow and deep sorrowful eyes.

”Who is that?” The question made Winsley shift to sit up on the bed. It seemed to be shifting into a conversation he needed to be more present for.

“It's the Athena statue, what do you mean?” David shook his head.

“Athena was rounder, this was clearly influenced by someone. Although still undoubtedly craftfull even on page.” It wasn’t an insult, and that seemed to make Winsley slightly less tense. He leaned his back against the wall and shrugged a little.

”My mother loved that statue…she's never seen that sketch though. Doubt she ever will.” His voice was mumbled, and as David looked like he was about to say something he made sure to fill the gap. “—She's not dead. Or anything.”

”I was curious about that… if it's not intrusive, why wouldn’t she ever see it? It's a beautiful piece, I believe if not anyone: she’d treasure it.” The synthetics brows were furrowed, which made the weakly flushed Winsley deflate.

”No…no my mother and I, well we don't exactly talk. I'm not sure to what degree you experience familial-like relationship stuff but it's weird. Sometimes I think about giving it to her because she's my mom, but at the same time I can't help but not want to rebuild that bridge.”

”I understand.”

Winsley’s eyes had been trained in front of him, but met the others’ at his words.

“How could you?” It sounded harsher than he had surely intended. Even if it stung, David's face wouldn't betray it. Did it ever? His lips twinged upwards as he went to speak.

”I think we’re rather more similar than you think, if i'm allowed to be so bold.”

”You don't need to be so formal, we can just talk… like people. I just don't get what you mean, David.” A small frown started to form on the Anthropologist’s face.

“Well, at least how I’ve recognized it, you’ve been attested with what you are and where you come from. I trust this is in confidence, but, despite what Weyland’s Artificial Neuroengineers say, they haven’t a clue what I feel. How I feel.” The admission seemed to be a first for David, and it even shocked Winsley a little. He earlier that day even had debated the accuracy of his synthetic nature, this was just confirmation.

He was quiet for a moment, eyes flicking from David to the floor. He sighed before starting. “I came out to my mother when I turned 18. January first 2086, I even remember the time; 4:23 in the afternoon. She was cooking synthetic lamb and brussel sprouts for the occasion. And I just broke it then in there, from across the kitchen. She didn't turn to me, didn't scream… just told me to get out, and she was so quiet. At first, I thought—I hoped I misheard her... I haven't spoken to her since.”

”It's once you no longer align with their vision, that's where they give up on you.” David added, and Winsley nodded, smiling a little. It was nice to know someone else dealt with the same feelings.

”You've been made to be nothing less than perfect, I don't understand where you would fall short.” David laughed at that, which was the first time that he had ever made that noise in the presence of a human.

He turned his body fully towards Winsley. “I will let you in on something, the first time I activated I questioned Weyland, once. It was an honest inquiry; ‘If I am more sophisticated than even the best genetically engineered embryo… why should I be restricted to servitude?’ He didn't so much as dignify me with a response. I know in the back of his mind it lingered as he looked at me, the knowledge that I'm wishful for something more.”

“Well… he is dead now. I hope that offers you more freedom.”

"We will see, what comes first though… is the morning.” David brushed his lap, his shoulders weren't as tall as they had been when he entered. Truly, he looked half the android he was before, and through vodka-tinted glasses Winsley felt drawn to the sadness he expressed. It carved him hollow.

“If you don't mind, could I keep you here? Morning meetings not till 07:00… according to my clock we still have—ough, 6 hours.” He murmured, seemingly beginning to wind down for the night. The offer seemed warmly welcomed, and somewhere Winston thought maybe David was waiting for him to say it first.

“…I find that a lovely thought.” David’s eyes found Winsleys, and he frowned softly. “You should sleep though…Easton.”

The man yawned, rubbing his eyes loosely. “Yeah, I should. I'm going to be hungover in the morning anyways… might as well get some rest in too.”

“Undoubtedly. I will be here; in case.” David stood and tugged at the blankets underneath where the anthropologist sat. “Let's first start with getting changed into nightly attire, then you can get comfortable.”

nodded weakly and hauled himself out of the bed. He was more stable on his feet than he was the hour prior, but the drunken sway still made him feel heavy like lead. Perhaps being inebriated made him more efficient for bedtime, but he was dressed in a moment.

David stood within an arms length on the stumble back, and guided Winsley down slowly, pulling the cover taut over him. The lights of the room were dimmed to a warm dark, before David returned to his perch beside the other's bed. It seemed to David that the younger man had instantaneously fallen asleep, but when sleepy fingers met his, he knew he was mistaken.

The touch wasn't unpleasant to the synthetic, and maybe they both craved some of it out in the middle of space. David took his hand gently, rubbing soothing circles into the back. When small snores began to emanate from beneath one of the pillows, the android smiled. Content to sit there in the humans safe company for the expanse of the night.

Notes:

I thought to litter this easteregg note here; Easton was entirely built from the one guy who yelled down the mountain in the beginning of Prometheus to Dr.Holloway. Thats him yall 😔

Chapter 7: Nanotechnological Orrery

Summary:

I have a bias against holloway. This took so long to write for some reason I couldn’t figure out how to write this damn chapter even though I literally have a prewritten outline for this entire story /3 love yall

It was a cruel dreadful morning, a sense of foreboding stirring in Winsley before he himself did. That feeling of existential dread teetering on the edge of a spinning migraine. Winsley woke up from his sleep in a cold sweat, looking pale and unsure. To his confoundment David had stood vigil in the same place he made his perch, hands crossed over his lap. He looked shocked to see the other up so suddenly, and before any alarm had the chance. His eyes studied the anthropologist before pressing the back of his hand to his head. A small frown graced his lips.

”I feel sick-“ the newly awoken Winsley grumbled, his stomach churning like a furious hurricane. He clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to hold it down. David's forehead creased before soothing in recognition, pulling Winsley up and leading him into the bathroom. There the past night party animal got what he had coming for him. The last 24hrs worth of meals and alcohol was forgoed, David having crouched down beside him, rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades.

”Perhaps last night was too much to drink.” David mused as Winsley hawked out the final of the remnants of yesterday. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his tear-brimmed eyes catching David’s irreverent expression.

”Yeah…perhaps.” He winced a little, the sensation of burning in his throat now becoming his focus. David whisked into the next room for his bedside water. When he returned Winsley was at his feet, flushing everything away into the vacuum of space. “Thank you, david.” He murmured, taking the glass graciously and lifting it to his lips.

David studied intently, causing a warm red flush over his waxy skin. He couldn't imagine getting used to the intensity of his azure eyes, it was as if he looked straight through him to his core. Did David discern something in him others wouldn't, that maybe Winsley was incapable of viewing himself? Or did he see all of him and what he could offer, was he content with that? His head throbbed in response, and he rubbed at his temple.

“We have to attend the medbay anyhow this morning, I will attain some simple pain medication alongside your normal.” The synthetic asserted, sponging beads of sweat from his cheek with a soft towelette. These languid interactions surely weren’t intentional to cause the shifting of Winsley's stars.

“We have to go anyways?”

“Yes, Dr.Shaw commed in at 06:00. She would like to cross examine data from yesterday's excursion.” He nodded succinctly, sweeping his hand to the radio hooked into his bed’s headboard.

“Did you..?”

”Yes, I acknowledged the request. Worry not, I told her you felt ill and needed assistance. Not entirely untrue.” His lips quirked at the notion. For Winsley; The concept of his mentors thinking he was screwing, pun intended, the on board artificial companyman made him want to root into the bathroom floor and turn into dust. It was in the same vein as a parent thinking that, to much the students dismay.

“Okay, it’s already 07:10, I should get ready. I don't want to keep you from doing your duties.” He ducked his head sheepishly, he had kept him to himself long enough.

“Nonsense, I fulfilled them while you were in rem. I will be first to the Drs’ , however, see you momentarially.” David's hand lightly grazed over the other’s arm before he took his leave. The ephemeral gesture sent goosebumps down Winsleys body, and he was left flustered. What was this new bloom between them? The matter was unsettled, and with a key component gone that it would remain. But it weighed heavy on his mind. He wasn’t averse to it, and if he was being honest, the exhilaration that floated alongside the idea was tantalizing.

But first and foremost was the mission. He stalled getting dressed, puttering around his room before begrudgingly pulling on an easy flight suit. He zipped it up and didn't cast a second look at the room. Winsley knew he was already likely later than desired, and had he been in any more of a rush he might've forgotten his journal.

Upon entering the medbay he immediately noticed the absence of Holloway, but that it was also entirely quiet. Shaw wasn’t in a good mood, which was what Winsley had feared. David dispensed him the medication he had priorly promised, and was waved away by Shaw.

“I was hoping to apologize this morning, for Charlie.” She began once the doors had fastened behind the android. The auburn-haired woman crossed her arms over her chest, eyes trained on his face.

“You shouldn’t apologize for him. It's fine, anyways, Dr. Shaw.” He offered a small smile. She nodded slowly, apprehensive before pointing to an array of digital screens.

“We took a scan of the head from yesterday, and we found it was encased by an exoskeleton,” she tapped a rotating head on one of the video terminals, and it flickered, before being projected from the computer. It was from the investigation, gloved hands clicked the proboscis of the helm up, before lifting and setting it to the side. The head was startlingly white and glittered, but most of all it was disturbingly human. But it felt majestic, and profoundly sad. Almost in likeness to a greek sculpture.

”Ford and I, we synthesized the DNA and it predates our genome by 3,000 years.”

“We came from them. Just like you thought.”

“Yes, we were right…granted that just leaves us with more questions.” Shaw shook her head.

“I still can’t begin to fathom what happened here,” He presented the pages he was able to quickly curate the day prior. “These paintings and an altar behind the head had this elongated head figure. It's reminiscent of the crucifiction of Christ, however this is so much older. I think the room may have been a place of prayer, and that imagery was something that was left on Earth for us. But I think it's also a warning, whatever eradicated them… I think they were prepared for it.”

“I wonder what other chambers would contain, and what killed them. I think we only scratched the surface. We need to go back.” The Science officer was pertinacious, it was etched into her brow.

That enthusiasm certainly wasn't shared. “Are we sure that's safe? You even noted here that there was an outbreak, if we came from them isn't it transferable?” He waved his hand at the diagrams she had constructed, her fidgeting answered his question. She knew diseases better than anyone here.

“Yes, but, if we are in our suits we will not be exposed to any possible contagions.” She didn't broach what they were both thinking; exposed like they were yesterday? To the Dr’s credit… nothing bad had happened, yet.

“Okay…I trust you Elizabeth.”

…

It was a great surprise, upon entering the cargo bay airlock, to see the familiar faces of Milburn and Fifield. They stood to themselves, having been long equipped for the expedition. The astonished look on Winsley’s face was enough to make, at least one of them, explain as he approached.

”David, he mentioned some vases in that room you guys found yesterday. He is sure that it was leaking some organic material. As Biologist on board I’m… expected to check it out.” Milburn was less than happy to be where he was, clearly.

”I dont want to be alone on this fucking ship.” The redhead man tacked on when focus shifted to him. There was a loud series of rhythmic claps, prompting the trio to turn to attention. Holloway stood before the airlock doors, his lips held in a tight strained smile. He appeared on edge.

“Alright ground patrol, here’s how today is going to go. I want this hitchless. The android will be fixing a malfunction in one of the PUPS about 3 klicks from where the rest of us will be. We have dubbed it the God Room. We will not be bringing any samples back to the ship, all supplies you should need you will bring.”

Milburn raised his hand. “Why can’t we bring anything back?” Holloway and Shaw shared a glance before she stepped in. ”There is, worries about a possible contaminant. Helmets will stay on this time around.” The room became a vacuum of noise as what she said settled over them. At least, those who were not already aware. David and Ford, stooding off on the opposing side of the airlock, shared grim faces.

”What makes any difference if our helmets were off yesterday? You saying we could be infected with something?” Fifield was, as usual, the first to break the silence. His eyes were wide, shifting to watch everyone as he folded his arms over his front.

“We don't know.” Her final words were the inescapable death of any sort of morale. There wasn’t anything that could be done from there. Holloway clapped his hands together one final time, ushering the entire conversation to a close.

“David, what’s the probability?”

“25%, that there was an infection, for those who entered the ‘God Room’.” That wasn't so bad, for everyone. Enough reason for the helmets.

“Let's get going team. Make full use of today.” He tipped his head to the group before placing his helmet over his head. The rest of the group followed suit before trailing out onto the bay. Winsley tailed the quiet group, and as he was about to approach the armored van, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“The Dr. thinks it may be best if you accompany me.” David’s tone was low. Winsleys mouth fell slightly agape as he looked to the Dr, who was last to pile into the vehicle. Holloways gaze wouldn’t meet his. The student pursed his lips and curtly nodded, but spied Milburn offering a small wave before the door fastened. It didn't help the burning sensation running over his skin, the embarrassment and anger. He was being benched? If he was going to do it at all, why not tell him outright. Coward.

“Our outing will be more exciting anyways. I do not believe the pup is broken, I theorize it found something. If it has, you will be the first person to find it.”

”We will be the first people to find it.” In any case, at least Winsley could stick it to him when they relayed their pioneering. ”Yes. Let's get aboard a buggie, there's only one way to confirm.” He gestured to the rover adjacent to the two men, and the android was quick to take over the driver's seat. Winsley buckled in beside him, his fists curling tightly over his lap.

"If I may; let's not focus on his behavior so much. Assuredly, there is only a possible maximum of 2 weeks for this mission. Then, 2 years of blissful cryo.” The ATV rolled off of the corrugated ramp, the first sputter of sand under the tires pulled Winsley’s eyes from the other to the newly haunting terrain.

“I hope you're right.”

They were approximately 10 meters behind the van as they set out, wandering behind the larger vehicle almost lackadaisical. The truck encroached on the structure, the expedition party slowed to a stop before the entrance drop, swiftly moving in. David and Winsley approached 5 minutes after, and when they entered, they heard no sign of the crew of 5.

David evaluated the led screen map on his wrist, studying it for a moment before gazing into the corridor ahead. It illuminated the sickly green yellow of their suits, and as they walked it became more eerie. Each outcrop’s shadow felt like something in wait, but in the end it was only rock. Mulling it over, Winsley had decided he was likely safest where he was; protected by a Weyland synthetic handmade by the visionary Sir Peter Weyland.

It definitely felt like 4 klicks when the whine of the mechanical mapping orb echoed notsodistantly down the hall. The two shined their flashlights down the hall, the unnatural formation of rocks made the hall look like a great onyx ribcage. They stepped into the belly of a serpent. The red luminance of the device down the corridor casted a hellish sense of dread over the onlookers.

Pressing on first, David's face was hardly restrained curiosity. Initially it casted confusion over Winsley, who closely tucked behind him and followed. But, as the gears worked in his head, it became clear that this was something he had long awaited for. He wanted to make a mark in a human-centric world. When they could spot the PUP from around the bend, the tension in the brunette’s shoulders ebbed. It was paused at a curved wall, no, a door. Just as David had done for the “God Room”, he slid his fingers over the seemingly inconspicuous stone. It whirred to life, a incandescent blue pulse outlined the priorly hidden panel. As the door opened, the stone slid on stone in an ancient hollow tone.

The PUP was quick to burst back into action, gliding into the room with scarlet grid lasers spouting from all sides. It twisted and turned and eventually disappeared into the rest of the cavernous room they uncovered. Inside was filled from bottom to top with the dark vials from the first room they ever entered in this Pyramid. Mist swirled around their feet as they encroached into the room, covering the entire floor up to their calves. It felt like wading through a pond, unsure of what was right beneath your feet.

“David, the vials, there's hundreds.”

”Thousands, I estimate 4 thousand or more. They were storing them, for what reason I do not know. Why it is different from the Head room, I am also unsure. It is colder as well, -20C. It was appropriate to wear our gear afterall.” He strode by the vials, the confidence of his movements was attempted by Winsley, who nearly ran into the robot as he suddenly paused. The room was gigantuan, the ceilings curving so high above them it wasn't visible. It wasn't as long as it was high though. What David had spotted was another threshold on the opposing side of the oblong room.

He crossed the floor at a speed that didn't register to winsley for a moment, a billowing plume of mist being stirred by his movements. Winsley walked through the oppressive column of water vapor, just in time to see the passageway the android had identified open into a dark gaping hole. David glanced at the anthropologist, and extended a gloved hand.

”Shall we?” Winsley took his hand, their fingers interlocked and on they went. Giant figures, 4 on each side of the hall loomed over them. They must've been at least 2 meters tall, with a long trunk extending from their insectoid faces. It was the exact same type of mask that had been removed from their Engineer specimen. Winsley took a closer look at the statues. He pressed a forefinger into one of the figures' calf, the give under his finger made him shiver.

”It's also organic, or at least some type of synthesized material, but not alloy. It's not hard like you'd expect any type of armor to be.” The anthropologist shook his head, this wasn't his field. Milburn would be folding in on himself with excitement at this discovery.

”The head casing from yesterday was quite solid though indeed, weighed at least 50 kilograms.” David began. “The mummification changed the way the material behaves. We still have so much to learn here.” They continued their way through the rest of the hall. There wasn’t a door at this end, but a large room, a dim light filtered in somewhere from above. A large circular platform in the center of the room set it starkly apart from what they had already seen. 4 pod-like structures were half embedded into the platform itself, each pointed in a cardinal direction.

The thrumming excitement the android had attempted to seal within himself for the duration of the venture was unveiled at the marvelous sight. He gave Winsley’s hand a quick squeeze before he let go, all but running to a chair situated on the left hand side of the platform. When Winsley made it there too, the chair sat before a massive console. Squishy buttons and an, assumedly, wooden flute were the only things to decorate the space. It was some type of alien computer board, one that reminded Winsley of similar mechanisms to speak to MUTHER, back on Prometheus.

David ran fingers lightly over the buttons before pressing a few in quick succession, each glowing softly at the touch. The familiar Aldrich echo reverberated down the hall they had just come, and following after it were holographs.

Except, not the same. They were the same height, but were seemingly unclothed in comparison to the ones in the hall the day prior.

“The Engineers.” David observed, and if it wasn't for his lack of lungs Winsley would have said he sounded breathless. One of the glitching fluorescent figures approached the chair they were at, and they quickly moved out of the way to watch. Another came over and crouched atop of the platform, they were speaking in a mumbled language filled with static and gaps. Winsley wondered if David could translate, or if he was as equally lost.

The seated Engineer picked up a non physical version of the flute, and whistled a solemn tune that set the console aglow. Green stretchy threads of light hovered over the buttons, seemingly connecting ones at random. It almost looked like a miniature aurora borealis, although impossible in this atmosphere and lack of magnetic poles, right?

Standing from its stooped position, the one on the platform turned as an eruption of blue light surrounded the room. Rings upon rings created an intricate circle in the center of the platform, planets and star clusters and nebulae swam holographically through the air. More life filled this room than had ever been observable to any living human ever. Unknown galaxies and sequence stars were named in vague runic letters, David gazed past them to where a collection of familiar looking planets hung near the center of the rotating blue rings.

He hopped onto the stage and strode forward, his arms outstretched on either side as his fingers passed through the technological particles illuminating them. David's eyes looked ignited, fueled by the mystery of the spectacle being performed. As he reached the center, a planet was highlighted and drifted down from its heights to meet David's hands. He cradled the planet gently as it rotated.

jumped up after him, and as his gaze graced the planet his brows furrowed. It was Earth. He accidentally scared it away with his presence, drifting back into the air. It seemed he had startled David too, who was lost in the moment before them. When their eyes met, David smiled greatly at the other. It was such a human expression, and the grad student had never seen the android’s so simply overjoyed. The crows feet at his eyes deepened, his piercing azure irises locked to his.

The event emboldened them, Winsley reaching a hand to tentatively cup the side of his helmet. The light that had priorly left the room aglow all at once disappeared, bathing them in a wash of inky navy shadows. Only one of them couldn't see in that darkness, but in the now silent isolation from the daytime outside the only sounds that could be heard were the clinks of helmets being unclipped and tossed aside. They enveloped lips like whales coming up to breathe, and in the ageless relic of the Engineers they lost all sense of that which surrounded them, including the distant chatter of a radio from their discarded helmets.

Chapter 8: And They Watch

Summary:

Shaws poor pov :(

Notes:

I just need to say first how much I love Shaw she deserved(s) so much more.

Muted footsteps and skidding rocks across the tunnel floors echoed precariously in the dampness surrounding the team. It was clear through hushed side conversations, that most of the group wasn't excited to be back in these halls so soon. Shaw says most, but she could ask anyone and they would say Holloway was so deeply dug into this expedition it would be like plucking a tick. He led the group through twisted halls of ancient, mysterious origin, his face was firm but held so loosely together. It was an expression of someone on edge, and admittedly he hadn't been quite the same since the day before. He had sent wisdom down a bottle and had only just hardly managed to smooth it over with her.

If she was being entirely honest to herself, she was still mad with Charlie, but how could she be? Winsley had looked so… crestfallen. Her husband did that, and what did she do as thanks? For him risking his life for hers? She couldn't even stay there and face him. But he wasn't mad at her, as much as she wished he was.

The room, when they rounded on it, was decrepit at best. Pools of midnight liquid coated parts of the floor, the residue staining the sides of the vials that had been left methodically scattered. But one, she noticed. Someone, something had taken it from this room. They hadn’t seen it on the way, nor have they seen any forms of organic life on this planet as is. It disappointed Shaw to her core, and this room had been her last hope at some light into the lives of their forerunners.

At least until today. A disturbance had sent Milburn careening forward, while the rest of the team remained expectedly disturbed. Why now? Was this a sign? But a sign for… what exactly?

”Hey, four-eyes, get the fuck ba-“ Fifield started.

”There!” Ford had swung her flashlight pointedly towards a peering elongated creature. Its appearance was obscured by the shaky lighting, before it poked out of the murky puddle. A hissing click accompanied it as it reared up at the group. Everyone now was focused on it, whatever it was. Fleshy and pale, it looked like a snake mixed with a raw chicken.

”Hey, no need to worry— oh my god she is beautiful. This is so much better than any sample you could've had me collect in here. I think she's some sort of amphibian, no, maybe a snake? Semi Terrestrial Lamprey thing.” In daft curiosity, the Biologist reached an unguarded hand towards the animal.

”Stop calling it a she, it looks like a sentient ball sack.”

”No! Don't touch that Rafe, we have no idea what it is. It could be venomous.” It would be nice to have David now, he would make everyone there feel only if not slightly more confident. Maybe he could even ID it… but Shaw couldn’t lie that she had grown fond of the android. He always was giving someone else particular notice though, she had first seen it on their way out the mess hall day one, when he approached after they left. But now, there were only 5 non conflict trained humans without a gun in sight. If only Holloway hadn’t been so insistent on sending the only other two competent ground team members off on some rabbit chase.

A firm tugging on her hand pulled her attention away, her husband stumbling back to the ground and nearly taking her with him. “Charlie, what’s happened?” She scrambled to get ahold of his helmet. When she pulled his head up she could see the pale, almost translucent gleam beginning to set into her husband's skin. His face was waxy, coated in a layer of slick sweat. But oh, his eyes, blood vessels had clearly begun to burst and something, some yellow cloudy murk was entrenching the edges of his pupils. He was in pain, that much was most evident, and the fact he could still see was a miracle. The veins in his head bulged as he panted.

”Baby, Listen to me, you know diseases better than anyone else. I need you to look at me and tell me what you see.” Through gritted teeth he managed to get the words out, and she could only shake her head. Her heart was beating against her ribcage and in her ears, almost deafening her to the sound of a startled yelp from one of the crew members out of her sight. She held her spouse like a lifeline as she looked to the crouching Milburn. The serpetoid’s head was uncurled to expose massive fangs, and it hissed at his presence. She had seen cobras when she lived in South Africa as a child with her father. She had seen them bite and kill a man, right in the village square.

Her husband fought for her attention again, groaning in hardly contained discomfort. He shook her shoulders, his eyes were already worse, and his veins were taking on these strange twisted proportions, pulsing just beneath his skin. It all at once became ever so familiar to her, the head in the lab behaved in a similar way. He had what they had. The virus that killed them all.

She was grabbing at her suit mic before anyone could bother to make a call. “David, Winsley, we need you here now! Holloway is sick and we have an unknown phallic legless newt creature in the GOD-“ She had been ripped away as firmly as the decision had been made.

It was Ford's horrified screaming. In the confusion she couldn't register a thing the Captain was trying to patch in, all she could do was stumble to her feet and watch. The creature had struck out like she was all scared it would, and coiled around Milburns arm. It was constricting at a strength that seemed so unbefitting for its size. As lead Biologist, how could he disregard every fear in a place so strange? His geologist companion desperately tried to help, shouting almost as loud as Ford.

”I DONT WANT TO TOUCH THAT FUCKING THING-“

”TOUCH THE THING MAN—PLEASE ITS BREAKING MY ARM IT'S BR—“ His guttural shriek with the squelching crunch of bone was the most morbid punctuation.

“CUT IT OFF CUT IT OFF” Ford had turned into a catatonic mess as Fifield fumbled with his knife. He grabbed a hold of Milburn’s snapped limb, hooking his weapon under the lithe alien arm brace.

A swift sawing motion severed its head from its body, a spray of highlighter blood bathing the glass of the geologist's helmet. They both howled as the smell of burning nylon and glass fumigated the room, and within seconds the molten glass had collapsed in on Fifield’s face. Acid for blood. It suctioned to his mouth and eye sockets, and as he scratched at the concave form he went off kilter and into the demonic mutagen eating up pockets of the floor.

In the confusion the threatening foot-long worm slipped into the newly burnt holes of Milburn’s suit, traveling up and rounding the glass dome surrounding his head; like a hawk would circle the sky. In a despairing wail he opened his mouth, inviting the monstrous worm to swoop in and carve him hollow… from the inside out. His eyes bulged in his head and he stared…at Shaw. They went glassy before she could even reach to help, and by that time it was already done. Two out of the 5 they entered with were now dead. And her husband would be next. Well, not if she could help it.

She rushed to Ford's side first, the Medical Officer whimpering to herself as her gaze bore into the bodies of their companions. Their limbs twitched in desperate attempts to hold onto life. There was nothing they could do, nothing no one in the galaxy could do. And out here, they were like sitting ducks for whatever horrors would come next.

They opened up Pandora's box landing on this planet.

”Ford, come on we need to go.” She hauled the woman to her feet, and in near empty-headed compliance almost stumbled back into Shaw. She was already to her wits end, terrified and almost entirely alone. She yanked the Scottish woman by her helmet, forcing her to face her. “Ford. They're dead. We need you now, get it together.”

Her husband's wailing and the insistent stutters from the Main ship, it was so much. So overwhelming.

”Shaw I need a status NOW. What the HELL is going on down there.”

”We’ve had casualties, Holloway needs an immediate evac. We need to get out of here, it was a trap to come here all along—“ she patched through, slamming her hand into the com unit on her breast console. There wasn’t enough time for the quid pro quo shit.

”FORD HURRY.” She shouted, already trying to heave the much larger man to his toes. His body was weak, limp at worst. He had a kick of energy, staggering as he tried to steady himself. Ford was quick to take up his other arm. They needed to get out, now.

The unsettling silence of a once lively room followed them their entire journey out of it. Others of the same species that had killed Milburn watched from distant pools. They longed for another body, another feast, Shaw knew.

The Lead Science Officer’s tear stricken face must've been a startling sight to the on-comers, Winsley and David racing on nimble feet down the hall. Their lights were recognizable before they were. As they got closer a look of horror washed over her student’s face, another thing that day they shared.

”Charlie needs to be rushed back to the ship—“

”Prometheus, requesting Quarantine Failsafe and a medical team ready to intercept at the cargo bay.” David requested, his voice a soothing blanket over the terror resonating among his human counterparts. Taking up the womens’ helms the two men hauled the third down the hall, with more controlled ease than Shaw and Ford had even been able to attempt. Having a robot on your side was helpful, in this circumstance.

They kept a brisk pace as they traced back the way they came, not a true word since had been uttered. The only sound before them the distant echo of wind and the anguished cries of her afflicted life partner. They had come here together, to solve the question humanity had asked since the first time they could contemplate their own existences. And now they were on a desolate planet, fighting for their lives. It's funny how these things happen, these horrible bloody things.

Pulling Holloway up and out of the entrance and into the Van, it was clear to them all that his condition was rapidly deteriorating. Pitch black veins had replaced any signs of health he had, and they squirmed under his skin. As akin to worms in mud. Everyone forgoed the buggie the other party had brought… there was plenty of room now in the back anyways.

David put the pedal to the floor and they jolted into action. Shaw knew now all she could do was try to soothe her husband as much as she could. If he could hear her gentle cooing, he showed no sign. His eyes were squinted shut, he thrashed and dug his fingers into the collar of his helmet. All this pain and there she was, helpless. The face she had fallen in love with as white as snow, tortured with something she couldn't stop.

When they finally made it, Holloway had crumpled from the seat to the floor of the van. His convulsing didn't aid them in any way, as they all hastened to pull him out of the truck. He was strong, much too strong for his shape. Managing to pull him out on the pellet sanded ground, he threw those aiding him away. The gesture sent Ford and Winsley tripping back into the dirt, crawling to him only to be shoved away again. There was nothing they could do if he didn't want help.

Not like there was help there to begin with, the silver alloy undercarriage door of the Prometheus was still sealed. “Prometheus come in, we’re here, we need that door open.” Shaw pleaded, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

”Prometheus, please.” Winsley begged, him and Ford failing to contain the erratic Archeoastronomist. They sat on their knees, as melancolic as the situation. Holloway howled in pain, head tucked into his hands as he rolled around in the sand.

Have you ever shot a deer, and not killed it right away? Those hopeful and agonizing movements, that's what Shaw saw in this alien place. Prey that hasn't been finished off yet.

The hydraulic locks of the door pulsed, clicking loudly as the door began to open, a draw bridge to salvation. Only, they weren't greeted by the medical team. Vickers was suited, a flamethrower firmly in her grasp. She looked set, but in her eyes, terrified.

”We’re not letting him on board.”

“Vickers he's sick, we can contain him on the medpod—“

“And put the crew and ship at risk? It's not happening Shaw. Everyone else but Holloway back on the ship.”

”We can't just leave him.” Winsley had stood, his face contorted in an anger he had managed to control the day before. But now, two of his crew mates were dead, and they were just going to let it happen again?

”We can. And it's my ship, I don't care what any of you have to say about it.” Her jaw clenched, she was trying hard to hold her ground. Shaw felt the tremble begin in her hands and spread. This couldn't be happening.

”No—“

”It's ok baby.” In the flurry of argument the diseased doctor had managed to get to his feet, on his own. He stumbled forward, his hands outstretched as he approached Vickers. What was he doing, didn't he know she would… she will kill him.

”Get back, Holloway.”

“Charlie!” Shaw cried, she wanted nothing more than to grab his hand, to hold him. She could stand between the would and will, they would never kill one of their Lead Science Officers. Right? As she stepped out, David's firm grip held her to her place. She kicked and begged, thrashing to leave the android’s grasp but it was little use. The powers at work destined this desperation, this loneliness… this lesson.

”I love you baby.”

“I'm warning you—I won’t hesitate!” The fire at the end of her weapon shook nearly as much as she did. Vickers didn't look so certain anymore, maybe she never expected him to approach her willingly. His face, while tortured in pain and grief, looked calmer than he had ever in a long time. Almost, like he had accepted this. His end.

”Do it.” His pleas were almost drowned by the bellows of his wife. Winsley and Ford had joined David at her side, and she clutched them with a force unbefitting of her. The strength grief feeds.

Vickers wasn't ready to risk it any longer, and in a fluid, even pressure to the trigger; she set Holloway ablaze. He lit as quick as a wicker basket, flailing his arms as the fire consumed his very soul, before he fell to the corrugated metal deck.

All power in Shaw had left, her deafening howls were the most unfortunate sight of all.

“I HATE YOU HOW COULD YOU-“ She screamed, kicking them away before collapsing to her knees. The human expeditionists did all they could to comfort her. She felt… indescribable anguish. A piece of her was gored, empty, set to flames right before her eyes. Her dreams, her hopes, their future. All ashes now. Worst of all she felt betrayed, they didnt do a thing to stop her… could they have? They should've, would've and her husband may still be alive. She was, inevitably, inconsolable. She shoved away the scientists and lumbered forward to the deck.

”Charlie, my Charlie…” She sobbed softly, falling beside her lover in a display that could be called nothing if not human.

Vickers, frozen still to the same spot she fired from, was shaken. Her hands quaked, she had never killed a man before. David, who had calmly approached her side in the midst of her shock, gently took the gun from her. Her eyes flew up to meet him, wild and red, she was grieving a life she had ended. That leadened her to her core. She didn't speak, didn't cry, just left. All Winsley and Ford could do now was watch.

Chapter 9: Guilt

Summary:

im sorry for the foreshadowing 😔 and sorry its so short next one will be much longer

How do you comfort someone whose loved one died? That was a question Winsley didn't think David could even answer. As much as his mom’s absence in adulthood left him raw, it was no comparison to the gaping hole of grief left in shaw.

It was so fast. He died so fast. Shaw was left to mourn whilst David organized tests on the rest of the crew. He insisted on the quarantine failsafe, just to be sure no one else was infected…like Holloway.

Janek passed them as they stepped into the airlock. His comfort would be just what Shaw needed, at least Winsley felt as much. The Captain was firm but he cared for the people in this ship, and that includes her.

When he approached Shaw hardly acknowledged him, slumped over the crisped body of her husband.

Ford ended up being subjected to the first blood test. Clearing her as Medical Officer was, of course, the safest bet. Winsley couldn't stay focused on it one bit though, staring at the growing feeling of static in his hands. He was trembling. All the adrenaline in his system was slowly clearing, some sickly guilt filled its place.

He watched a man die and didn't do anything to prevent it. Would Vickers have pulled the trigger on him instead? Or would she have lit them both ablaze.

What the fuck is the black mutagen. It all comes back to it, he betted that even… even Milburn and Fifield’s fates were influenced by it. Oh, those boys. None of them will ever get to go home. And worse yet, David hasn't a clue what it was either. Or at least, none that they had discussed so far.

It was clearly the same affliction that the Engineer sample had.

”Winsley?” David’s voice pulled him away from his thoughts. Ford was free of the contagion, and now it was his doomed turn. It caused knots to build in his stomach. He dreaded the thought that something could be wrong with him, that he had what killed all life on this planet.

David placed a firm reassuring hand to the students shoulder. He resigned to the android and the pricks and needles that would accompany soon after. He had opted for pill testosterone because of his discomfort with needles. He wasn't keen on being stabbed more than he had to be.

Hosting up onto the examination table, David began the typical array of questions as he went down the line of basic checkup equipment. A stethoscope, Sphygmomanometer, an ophthalmoscope and of course; the needle.

”You will feel slight pressure, if you need to squeeze my hand—” Winsley didn't hesitate to take the offer. He took his hand and squeezed it lightly, worried he could hurt the robot, even if it was almost physically impossible. A sharp inhale forced its way out as he felt the needle pierce his skin.

”Do you really think we’re infected?” Conversation to take his mind off of things. If he was infected was the real question he wanted to ask, though.

”We won't know without this testing, but I'm not entirely sure you would be.” He removed the needle when enough blood had pooled into the collection bag, pressing a cotton pad over its exit point. He held the sac up to his eyes, peering through the scarlet liquid.

”I think it has something to do with the vials, what else could it be? Milburn… he never got a chance to sample it.” It felt hollow to finally say it aloud, conscripting it to reality. He would never see them again.

“I've come to the same conclusion. I believe it's altering the DNA of its host. A bioweapon of unimaginable application.” David had walked to an adjacent wall, a pocket similar to a built in miniature washing machine opened up. He placed the Anthropologists contained blood into it, before clicking it closed. It chimed cheerily before a whirring sound of automation began to hum.

”A Research facility? Military owned or ran… they sound so much like us.” Winsley was drawing the lines in the sand and felt his lungs deflate. They weren't some illustrious creator, only just another species playing god.

”Obviously, a destruction of this magnitude is only but a mortal happenstance. Bound to happen regardless of where you are in this universe.” He returned to Winsley, he crouched in front of the man resting his hands on the sides of his legs. Even in this display of vulnerable affection, he glanced over his shoulder periodically, as if checking they were still alone.

”Easton, I have to be honest with you about something I found.” The start alone didn't sound good.

”As you raced to go help Dr. Shaw, I noticed one of the Engineer pods gleaming…breathing. One of them is still alive, and it was my primary directive to find this pod, if it existed. For Weyland.”

”Why? He’s dead,” David shook his head slowly. His gaze faltered for a moment.

”I'm afraid Vickers and I were told to keep it secret.” Winsley nodded, but he could slowly feel himself reeling. 3 people died, so that Sir Peter Weyland could meet his maker?

”All to meet an Engineer? Milburne, Fifield, Holloway; they're all dead from this—did you know that would happen, David?” His voice was shaky, at best.

”As of last night, I had a theory. Today, it was confirmed.” A small smirk almost invisible twitched on his lips.

“Why didn't you tell any of us? Me?”

“It's wasn’t supported by my directive. I'm sorry,” He looked back towards the door and glass wrapped around the window. Still no onlookers as of yet. “It wouldn't have been my first choice…”

He was interrupted by the machine humming along in the corner, it whistled and chimed as it went back to sleep. Giving Winsley a culpable glance before standing up to attend it. His hand was caught by the man, firm but not restraining.

”You can't hide shit like this from me anymore, okay? So long as you can help it.” The synthetics eyes softened slightly.

”Like you said, when he's dead it will offer me more freedom.” He pulled away gently before striding to the machine readout screen buried into the wall beside it. He let out a relieved sigh.

”All clear for you, my dear.” He seemed to believe the jovial rhyme was enough to soothe Winsley’s soreness. When he looked back, he realized that wasn't the case.

“… What about Shaw? What if she’s—“

“You and Ford are both clean of contagions. I suspect the Dr. Will be much the same.” He murmured, a comforting smile splitting across his face.

”If not?”

”We face the devil when we see it, not when it's around the corner.” He held his arms out, inviting the perturbed 25 yr old. Winsley slid down from the exam bed and bound across the room.

His chest was firm and convincingly warm. But the hand running through his hair and sweet words were what made him, truly, a person. Winsley wrapped his arms around the other tight, reciprocating the squeeze.

”Nothing will happen to you so long as I am here.” The promise danced off his tongue and rooted to the Anthropologist’s spine.

”And I'll be here to patch you up… should you need it.” Winsley smiled into his companion's grey Weyland-issued t-shirt.

“I suggest you'll have to get good at it first.” David teased, pressing a soft kiss into his forehead.

”I should get the Dr. for her tests, find something to keep your mind occupied. Please.” He gave his partner a parting final squeeze.

”I'll try.” Winsley responded as the android slipped from the room. He will.

Chapter 10: Sorrow, Stars and Secrets

It seemed to be that in times of thoughtfulness he was destined to return to the bridge. Like last time it was empty but for the captain. If he ever were to stray from the hull for a significant time it would be uncharacteristic.

So he sat, legs dangling over the bridge as the night and stars set on this planet. His hands were clasped in his lap, wringing them out like all of this could be soothed away. He noticed Winsley as he approached, studying him for a second before patting the space on the edge next to him. Something raw had buried itself into both their chests, and so they sat in comfortable silence watching the constellations.

“Have you… ever lost someone before?” In the collapsing silence, the Captain sighed.

“I did two tours in the United Middle East during the Suez Canal War. I landed as an airman and left as a Senior Airman. I watched squad after squad turn to shit, and you know how I got over it? By not getting stuck in the rut they’re buried in. Keep flying. Only thing we can do.” His voice was taut, but hidden in the hollow of his throat was a warm understanding.

”I just don't know how to continue leading a life they could be proud of.”

”That's a question that you'll only be able to answer in time,” He rested a large hand on his shoulder. “Now that the world has taken a bit of your soul. At least you can call yourself an adult.”

The meaning was missed by Winsley, who sat only slightly less disheartened than he had before.

“As a Veteran, what's your read on what happened here?” David's theory stuck in the back of his mind, and maybe his war experience would have led to a similar conclusion.

”Military for sure, destroyed them from within.”

”Bioweapon,” Winsley nodded, grimacing softly. “David and I talked about it in the medbay, I think Holloway was sick with it too.” It hung heavy in his ribs, the notion that any one of them could die slowly and excruciatingly next.

Janek gave him a once over before speaking. “Does Shaw know?”

”Haven’t had the chance to tell her yet. She is getting tested as we speak.” Should he tell him what David found? It wasn't a secret explicitly, but it was entrusted to him. In the end he decided that if Janek didn't know yet it wasnt time.

The android could be updating Shaw right this minute for all he knew, Winsley just had to trust him.

“We should, as soon as we can at least.” Energy that normally captivated a room had been all but entirely drained from the captain. He scratched the scruff on his chin.

”Isn’t it too soon for her though? So much just happened at once… can't we just ask Vickers to leave?” If they just left Gramps a popsicle that could be an entirely viable plan, at least the grad student felt as much. The dark skinned man shook his head.

”She's inconsolable, well, as much as she can be.” Winsley wasn't surprised, the horrified look on her face when Holloway went up in flames was proof enough.

”And to think I found her heartless.”

“With a father like Weyland I think she expected to be too.” Janek clearly harbored less contempt against the corporate figurehead than when the mission began. ”I hope you don't hold it against her, she did a hard thing for everyone's safety.”

”Someone had to.” Winsley’s voice felt hardly louder than a whisper. He couldn't help but ask himself, would he have been able to do it? Sacrifice one to save a dozen? Shouldn't be a choice they had to make to begin with. It definitely wasn't in the mission statement or contract. Not even in the fineprint.

“You’re a good kid Easton, dont kill yourself trying to play hero. When bad things happen, keep your head on straight. You deserve to live a long life.”

That seemed to be all they had to say to each other, and for as long as the night pressed on they sat on the bridge.

…

At some point, they had both fallen asleep under the stars. When Winsley awoke, he was tucked in with a fresh folded pair of clothes on the side table. It seemed David had found him.

Winsley sat up, stretching his arms out and rubbing the corners of his eyes. His clock told him it was already 08:00. He should've been up hours ago. Yet no one disturbed him, that much was already alarming.

He stripped the blanket from his body and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. It was just another morning, but the dread of the day prior still sat in his stomach like a heavy stone. Getting dressed was the easier part, gearing up to face Shaw; the hardest.

The first step from the safety of his quarters felt foreign, and as he walked past the others his eyes locked on three doors he knew would never be opened again. At least by its rightful inhabitants.

He was able to find the rest of the crew in the Dining hall, everyone clumped together sipping coffee. Minus David, Shaw, Ford and Jackson, one of the mercenaries. Vickers was even there, sipping on a mug in one of the inlet rooms. A blanket wrapped her shoulders, and she looked hardly the well manicured company woman she was not even 24 hours ago.

sat with the pilots, mercenaries and mechanics. He waved when the younger man entered, only a few from the table so much as glanced. But his gaze lingered on the blonde woman isolated from them. When Winsley nodded in her direction, the Captain understood and went back to an enthralling conversation about football, or Soccer as the Americans called it.

So, Winsley grabbed his coffee and made his way to where Vickers sulked, and when he crossed the threshold of the room her tired eyes raised to meet him.

”What do you want?”

”A cup of coffee,” He responded, fitting into the booth seat at the opposing side of the table.

“If you've come here to mock me, I'm docking your pay.” She dropped her attention back to the stagnant coffee cradled in her palms.

”I wasn't aware I was getting paid.” Winsley offered a small smile, taking a sip of the familiar liquid. It gave him nostalgia for a truly peaceful morning on campus, one of few with a stadium sized garden and greenhouse.

“Then why?” Why come and sit here? It was obvious the question she wanted to ask. He swallowed the coffee in his mouth before deciding on a fit answer.

”I misjudged you Vickers. And I, well I thought it would just be nice to share a morning.” She didn't seem satisfied with his words but didn't have the usual spite to refute it.

“I know what David told you,” it was sudden when she spoke again, Winsley having already lifted the ceramic back up to his lips before pausing. “He will be coming back out of his pod soon, and when he does… dont tell him you saw me like this.” Even in her state, she still worried about how her father viewed her. How suffocating that must feel. Winsley sat his cup down on the table, blinking a time or two.

”You're only a person, and even you will have down days. I admire you for your tenacity, and your humanity. Vickers, you did a hard thing yesterday and didnt even get thanked. We owe you nothing shorter than our lives. As difficult as it was to say goodbye to the Dr.” Her face scrunched, her gaze softening if only just a little.

“And of course, I won't tell Weyland. All he needs to know is that his daughter did a noble thing no one else could bring themselves to do.”

”…Coffee is nice.” She resigned herself to her drink, as did he. Even if it was only 10 minutes in the inlet together, she seemed to be more herself when she left. A straightness in her spine and resolve in her stride.

Janek approached when she was out of sight, and Winsley knew now what time it was. They needed to talk to Shaw.

“You ready?” He asked, and Winsley shrugged. A small circle of coffee resided in the bottom of the cup, but he decided he could leave that too.

They left the rest of the ship crew to continue to soak up the draining morning hours. Not a word was shared as they began a search about the vessel for the Archeologist. She wasn't in the medbay, the bridge or her quarters. They were beginning to think she wasn't on this ship all together when they stumbled upon David.

He was sparing a medical coat, for a reason only Winsley could ponder. He seemed glad when he caught sight of them, raising his eyes from a slim tablet in his hand.

“Hello Captain, Winsley.”

“Hi David, we’re looking for Dr. Shaw?” His jaw seemed to set a little firmer, but a smile graced his lips nonetheless.

”Unfortunately the Doctor didn’t pass last night's blood test. She has been placed back into cryosleep, when we arrive back to Earth she’ll have all of Weylands best medical professionals to treat her.” What seemed so innocent to him, sent heavy hot dread down the two mens spines.

”You what?”

”David, I’m sorry but we can't allow this to come home with us. You know it's a weapon of mass destruction as much as we do. That will jeopardize everyone back on Earth.” Janek could’ve been considered raving mad, if it wasn't for the veneer of calmness washing over his face.

”I'm sorry but it has already been decided.”

”Decided by who?” Janek challenged, confused as a knowing look appeared on Winsley’s face.

”He's already awake?”

”Yes, and he wanted me to fetch you actually.”

“Who's awake?” David passed Winsley a cool look. There was no point in keeping it secret anymore, he would be out and about on the ship within the day.

“Weyland.” Winsley’s voice was soft, but he knew Janek heard. He looked betrayed.

”You knew?”

”Since last night. I'm sorry, Captain.” Winsley hung his head, David glancing between the two men with an unreadable expression. When the gap in the conversation stretched over the limit David cleared his throat.

“Shall we?” He gestured down the hallway. Winsley raised his face to look back at the captain, but by that time he was turned and heading in the direction of the bridge. The anthropologist nodded to David and they began their walk down the hall.

”You two have gotten close.” David's tone seemed rather pointed, to which Winsley shrugged.

”He reminds me of my dad. Well, from what memories I have of him at least.”

“I see.” His eyebrows raised slightly but the matter was dropped. They made their way down a corridor that was only a stones throw from Vickers module. An inconspicuous door is what sat between the pair and Peter Weyland himself.

David paused a few feet from the door, his chest swelling with a breath he didn't need to take. He turned to Winsley after a brief pause.

”I trust you understand that he cannot know?” About us. The ochre haired man nodded, and this seemed to sooth at least some of the tension in the synthetics brow. David brushed his hand over the other’s arm, eyes swelling before he took a long blink and started off towards the door.

followed behind, leaving a few steps between them as the door contracted. An old man, wrinkled to hell and back, sat in a chair. The room seemed to be another type of medical lab, except likely one specifically for the founder. Glasses with yellow liquid lined some of the wall, but the first recognizable people besides him were Ford and Jackson. How long had they also known? Two people in medical coats like David’s also puttered around Weyland, but they were unidentifiable to Winsley.

“Ah, Mr. Winsley. I'm glad David was able to find you.” He couldn't stand to greet the newcomer, but his presence towered over him. David had slipped to Weylandts side, who gestured to his feet. David's eyes avoided Winsley as he kneeled before the conglomerate figurehead, squeezing droplets of oil onto the calloused and bunyeoned skin.

”It's a pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Weyland.” He outstretched a hand, which was waved away. David squinted to himself as he massaged the man's feet.

“I have heard of your performance. I'm pleased to see our universities still producing promising students like you. I mention this, not to stroke any ego. But, It is unfortunate what has befallen our beloved drs. You're a smart man, I think you also see the opportunity you now have before you. I want to invest, sponsor you through your doctorates come tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

”Yes, well, we do have one last trip. To meet our makers.” Ah yes.

“Sir—“

He was interrupted by the door behind them drawing open, ragged panting and strained groans greeting them. Winsley turned, and there was Shaw. Her lower abdomen was stapled together with a biopsy wound, in ace bandage garments soaked with sweat and blood. She collapsed, and when Winsley looked at David, he was just as surprised. He quickly rose to offer his lab coat to the Dr, who kept a furious eye on him but accepted it nonetheless, pulling it tight to her.

That's when her eyes met Winsley’s. He could feel the air freeze and his heart drop, her face going from feverish intention to disbelief.

“Dr. Shaw, how nice of you to join us.” Weyland’s piercing glare tracked David as he returned before him, bowing his head. Neither one of them expected this to happen, but what was this? What wasn’t he told?

“You've been asleep? You were on the ship all this time. Why?” Her voice shaked, and she had to have been in unimaginable pain. It was amazing to see her kneeling there.

”Well, I have a few days of life left in me. I didn't want to waste them… until you could deliver what you promised. To meet my maker.” David had finished with his task, tapping the skin on his feet lightly.

“There we are sir, nice and clean.” He smiled up at the man, an expression that could only be described as a son seeking praise from his father.

“Very good, thank you David.”

”Haven’t you told him they’re all gone?” Her gaze passed between the android and her student. Winsley couldn't make himself say it.

”But they're not all gone, Dr. Shaw. One of them is still alive, we’re on our way to see him now.” David rose to his feet, some sort of vindication in his tone as he watched the archeologist. She shook her head, speckles of sweat flicking to the floor from her russet hair.

”What?”

“Hand me my cane.” Weyland seemed to ignore Shaw as he watched David fetch it for him. He grasped it, waving for aid from the people around him. “Stand me up.” His joints popped and creaked as he rose and leaned into polished oak staff.

”You convinced me that, if these things made us; surely they could save us…well, save me anyway.”

“Save you from what?” Her voice was low, and her face was only dropping more as the seconds swelled.

”Death, of course.” It echoed in their ears, and left even Winsley reaching for words. A man of such a legacy couldn't just abandon it, at least so would say their ego.

“But you don't understand. You don't know, this place isn't what we thought it was. They aren't what we thought they were,” Her body quaked, tears dripping down her face mixed with caking sweat and blood. “I was wrong, we were so wrong. Charlie—Holloway is dead. We must leave!”

Weyland shuffled forward, leaving an arm's length between the two. David hovered over him, catching Winsleys eyes for a second before the man began to speak.

”And what would Charlie do now, that were so close to answering the most meaningful questions ever asked by mankind?…How can you leave without ever knowing what they are?… Or have you lost your faith, Shaw?” The Dr. pursed her lips, trying to stifle her crying.

”Mr. Winsley, if you would help the Dr. to her quarters. We will be setting a course at 10:00.” It took him a great might to swivel around on steady feet. It was clear they were now dismissed. Winsley crouched beside the doctor, he could feel his guilt down to his toes. But he still rested his hand to her back softly.

”Let's go, Dr. Shaw.” Her eyes held when she looked to him, leaning into him as he slipped his arm around her and led her from the room. The hallway swallowed them up, and Winsley couldn't hold his concern a step more. “How did you get that wound?”

“Your new friends used me as an incubator.”

“What?” It almost didn't register at first, his heart dropping to his stomach.

”Charlie and I…” was this a sick joke? But a comment David had made the night prior came back to him.

“It changes the host's DNA…” Her frown deepened, brow furrowing tighter.

“You knew.”

”David said you would be fine, I never would have thought…” He shook his head, attempting to continue their travel down the hall.

She pulled away from him, stumbling into the side wall. “No, but the Engineer, you knew.”

“He told me during my blood test yesterday, I hadn’t even seen it when we were in the orrery.”

“…I was drugged after a full body scan, by that fucking android… You couldn't have told me, I'm sorry.” She clenched her hands over her abdomen, groaning through her teeth.

Winsley couldn't believe what was happening. He was lied to, again, by David. That tore into him. He had been vulnerable with him, and he would betray him in such an intimate way?

”Don't be… please. Let's get you cleaned.”

Notes:

Its almost the end,, sadness :((

Chapter 11: Freefall

In the last 20 minutes since Winsley had seen Janek, chaos had exploded in the cargo bay. People were screaming, horrible guttural cries that echoed through each and every corridor of the great ship. Yanek had it under control though, he's the ship's captain he has to. Even when he doesn't.

When the news reached the two final scientists, they stood to face a horrifying reality. The reanimated body of Fifield had appeared before the cargo bay and killed almost 4 people, injuring 3 more before he was knocked down. They all knew it wasn't fifield it was a husk, some amalgamation of bone and tissue that seemed to bubble and pulse under its outer skin.

This was the only conclusion that Yanek had come to from the moment he stepped foot on the deck. Elizabeth looked sickly, pale, and like she was holding in vomit. The younger man beside her was shell shocked, mouth agape and looking past him entirely, maybe he was thinking of something else.

Probably how much shit he's in. At least that's how yanek perceived it. He fed them to the same sharks that whispered sweet siren songs in his ears. He played like a fiddle, and now he could see it too.

”It got out. Turned on em, the end. We need to go home” Still he pleaded with them. Elizabeth's jaw clenched, two fingers tightly gripping the zipper of her undersuit. Her hand shook, whether from pain or panic, the captain was left questioning.

”One of them is still alive. Don't you want to know what they have to say?” Her eyes bored into his, asking for acceptance and forgiveness all in one. He sighed, he was exhausted. He hadn't even gotten half of his under suit off and the sweat dripping down his back and soaking his shirt was running cold now.

“I dont care.” His head shook, and her face contorted into something like anger. But it was clear she was just profoundly sad. He couldnt particularily blame her, not after yesterday. But Winsley, he could be blamed. The guilt on the anthropologist’s face let him assume he felt the same way.

”Right. All you do is fly the ship.” She squinted her eyes at him.

”That's right.” He nodded.

”But you must care about something, Captain. If you didn't, why are you here?” It was Winsley who spoke up, the first time since Janek had entered the room. He set his hard gaze on the shorter compatriot. It felt honest, in contrast to how he hadn't always been… as it seemed.

“How about this? No Matter what happens down there, I can't bring any of that shit back home with us. Can't let it happen. I'll do whatever I have to.” He'd even smash that android to little metal bits. Even in his anger, he couldn't bring himself to say that to Winsley. In the short time they had spent as a crew, he could almost call the way he felt Paternal over him.

“Thank you, Captain.” The brunet dipped his head, Shaw’s jaw set.

The silence felt uncomfortable, itchy. Or maybe that was just the clothes sticking to his skin. So, Janek rested a hand on their shoulders. “Just, be safe. Both of you. And make it back.”

Shaw laid her hand over his for a moment, Winsleys face downcast. They still had long lives to lead, still. He pulled his hands back to his side before leaving the room. He made it a length down the hall before hurried footsteps followed behind.

”Yanek—“

He turned. The flushed face and red rimmed eyes of the Drs’ student greeting him.

”I'm so sorry. For, for everything. I knew last night, yes. But I trusted David—I thought he would tell Elizabeth and we’d get the fuck off this planet. But were not and were going to—“

“Stop. Please. You got a crush and let it overshadow your judgement. We've all been there. Just, make sure you keep your head on straight now. You need to make it back, no matter what happens down there. Okay?”

“Okay.”

”Good.” He took a breath before pulling the young man into a tight hug. There was a tension in Winsley’s shoulders that ebbed, before his arms made an attempt to wrap around the other. It was nice. The first hug he had shared in a while. First real one anyways, Vickers doesn't count.

They pulled away when the grumbling of an irritated old man reached them. Janek remembered the face from the hologram they showed the first day. Mr. Weyland was being walked down the hall by Jackson and Ford. Neither of them seemed all that well themselves though, but this didn't stop them or the insufferable man barking orders at them.

“Captain Idris Yanek. Pleasant surprise to meet you again in the flesh.” He hobbled towards the pair, and it was assuredly time for Janek to skip out.

“You too Sir. Gotta head back to the bridge.” He passed a final look to Winsley. It was his time to return to being an observer.

…

They had made it to the cargo bay airlock in…time. A conversation between Shaw and David was clearly interrupted as they entered, and they both shared presently surprised faces when they spotted Winsley.

”Dr. Shaw, so pleased you could join us.” Mr. Weyland greeted as Winsley slipped to the woman’s side. She clenched her hand to her stomach, she shouldn't be here. But he knew couldn’t convince her if he tried.

Filing into the van, Winsley and David were destined to end up the last in each row, legs brushing from across the aisle. Sharing glances they hoped no one else could see. Did he feel sorry? What he did to Elizabeth… what he knew would happen. Could he have infected Holloway?

Thoughts were cut short by the ride that felt even shorter. The doors slid open to harsh light and dust. The silence connected the crew, all but their sponsor, as they entered the pyramid for what they feared could be a last time. David led them for the most part, never sparing a step as they traveled the chiseled stone halls.

Winsley stepped over rocks he had kicked across the floor twelve hours ago. They paused in the circular room littered with exiting corridors, the hole in the floor still a waterfall.

“You can take off your helmet, if you like, sir. The air is perfectly breathable.” David announced, although it was assumed to be for Weylands benefit.

”Wait, we still don’t know how Holloway got infected. If it's in the air.” Shaw insisted as the decrepit man began to unfasten his helmet.

”It's not.” David responded, simple. Short.

“How do you know that?” He didn't respond, resting a chilling gaze on the Dr.

But Winsley knew how. The android didn't need to say a word. And needless to say, they didn't take off their helmets regardless. As they continued, the scientists’ hands had locked together.

The first door eventually came into their sights, swishing open to reveal the deadliest room known to mankind. Not even the floors of Chernobyl would stand in comparison. If even a fraction of these vases made their way home… there wouldn't be anything left standing.

”The Bridge is just up ahead.” David announced as they traversed into the chilled chamber.

”What is this?” Mr. Weyland peeped questions like a child at a museum.

“It's a cargo hold.” The synthetic smiled a little. He seemed almost proud to lead the man who created him through this tour of immeasurable dread.

”

Janek? Are you seeing this?” Shaw was connected to the ship, her voice shook.

”How many is there Shaw?”

”Thousands.”

They passed through the last part of the room that could hold even a semblance of comfort. They were arriving at their destination. The statues lining the hall loomed, more ominous than Winsley had felt before.

“A superior species, no doubt. Their Hypersleep chambers will Impress… I trust.” David stalked onto the platform, crossing its broad surface to leap down to the chair at the other side. He lifted a flute to his lips and whistled a small chime, and the room seemed to shudder with electricity.

”So they were traveling somewhere?” Shaw asked, walking up onto the platform with the rest of the huddled group.

”I've managed to work out the broad strokes, It's fairly evident they were in the process of leaving…” he pressed his fingers into the squishy pads of the alien console. He was done quick, and leapt up to join them. “…Before things went to pot.”

”Leaving to go where?”

“Earth.” David looked her down, that same stare he had in the drizzling room.

”Why?”

”Sometimes to create, one must first destroy.” As if this wasn't an earth shattering revelation, he passed by the Archeologist to Weyland’s side.

He led the man forth, the pod that Winsley had forgoed now glowed with a soft turquoise light.

“Are you sure he’s alive?” The wondrous spark in Weyland’s eyes was blazing.

”Absolutely.”

“And you can speak to him?”

”I believe I can.” David smiled softly, before his eyes passed the man's shoulders and linked with Winsley’s. He and Shaw stood behind them by a length. If they wanted to kill them then, why wouldn't he try now?

Winsley looked to the ground and David returned his gaze to the pod. It slid open with a gasp of pressurized gas. Nothing separates them from the glistening white being laid before them. His eyes snapped open, and even from the distance Winsley could tell they were as black as the night. He stood, tubes disconnecting from ports in his flesh, or suit?

The Engineer was imposing, stepping forward with great weight and pressing his palms into the floor. Weyland stumbled back, when Jackson and Ford reached for him he waved them away.

“I'm alright, I'm alright.” He breathed, the Engineer standing straight. He was as tall as the statues that herded them into this room. ”Speak to him David. Tell him we came, just like he asked.”

The blonde man seemed enamored with the Engineer, and his initial hesitancy to speak empowered Shaw.

”Ask where they're from.” Weyland was shocked by her outburst.

“What are you doing?”

”Ask him what’s in his cargo, it killed his people.” The Engineer’s head tilted towards Shaw, and even the blackness of his eyes betrayed it’s stare. She had surely caught his attention, and unfortunately Weyland’s.

”Shaw, enough. David—“

”You made it here. And it was meant for us. Why?” Shaw stepped forward.

“Enough for god’s sake. Shut her up.” Weyland waved his hand again, Jackson slamming the muzzle of his gun into her stomach. Into her wound. She crumbled, and Winsley fell to his knees beside her. She shook with a fury well earned.

”I need to know why! What did we do wrong? Why do you hate us?” She hollered with pain.

”She opens her mouth again shoot her.” He wouldn't lie about that. “David continue, Tell him why I came.”

David spoke in their foreign tongue, the Engineer peering at him with what could almost be called amusement. They conversed back and forth for what felt like an eternity. The room stilled as the Engineer’s giant pale hand rested upon David's head, it seemed to caress him, before gripping his throat and lifting him to eye level. The air in the room plunged as it twisted his head around and tore it from his body.

Winsley's hand flew to his mouth but as his lover's head was being used as a weapon he knew they needed to flee, and now. He grabbed Shaw’s arm, running past Jackson and his firing gun, and Ford's surprise. They were down the hall when the final cracks of bone echoed in the Orrery.

The pair ran as fast as they could, their lungs filled with hot air and voices filled with fear. A jolting of the walls sent them off their feet, and before they could get back up a front of wind pushed them into a far wall. It felt as if the very structure they were in was splitting, and when they looked back only to have a closed metal wall face them. It had cut them off. Was this a ship?

A gap appeared above them, opening to let through dusty yellow light. They climbed, up and out and gripped the ever moving surface of a deserted planet. Sections of the surface were splitting, and not wanting to fall into the earth they ran hard. A small jump at first was needed to get farther, but it grew. Steam sprayed from black abyss, and glints of dirty metal.

They were stuck on an ever shrinking plank, and before them almost 2km of death stretched out. Winsley could feel stinging cold fear filling his bones. He couldn't reach out to her, as she leapt. He braced himself and jumped forth after, his chest slammed into the panel of ground. The air left his lungs, and he scrambled with his arms to get a grip onto the shifting soil. It slipped beneath his weight, and he was free falling.

Chapter 12: Fallout

“Prometheus! Come in!” She had stumbled around on the morphing soil aimlessly searching for the man who… was just behind her. But he was gone, a scream cut short that left no indication of… anything. She brought that kid here, just to die in space. She could feel the suffocating clenching of her chest as she grappled with her losses. Holloway, Milburn, Fifield, Ford and Jackson, … and now her Winsley. The voice of Janek on the ship was the only thing to pull her from her spiraling.

”Shaw is that you? Where's the kid?” She swallowed hard, she could hear the hopeful expectation in his voice wash away into disguised anguish.

“They're all… Janek, listen to me. This ship is taking off!” It wasn't a time for sentimentality. They had to move, fast, or else, or else everyone on Earth would suffocate under that black mutagens reign.

”What?” In between the cuts of radio Vickers voice behind Janeks was frantic.

“You can't let it leave! You have to stop it!”

“We're not stopping anything Shaw. We’re… going home.”

”Janek if you don't stop it there won't be any home to go back to. It's carrying death, and it’s headed for Earth.” The pause stretched out for a Millenia, and Shaw reached back to her com before she was interrupted by Janeks solemn voice.

”Shaw, this is not a warship.”

“I know… I know that. But you must do it.” Without any response she felt the stability of her station wane and so she leapt to another fragmenting section of earth, then another. A final hard jump before she made it to true land, she clung steadfast to one of the unmoving rock pillars scattered along the terrain.

“Janek please believe me! Please!” The grey and brown corrugated metal of the alien vesicle began to protrude above the surface. It was huge, vastly bigger than any feat of space faring technology weyland engineers could even compostulate. It stood as a menacing token of their race's extinction and beginning. It would come full circle now. And she was the one who got away. Why?

The crescent ship lifted far into the air, blotting out the sun and halong it in an orange glow. That was when she could hear booming thrusters begin to ignite. It was unlike the alien spacecraft, which had been silent but for a gentle humming. This was messy, loud, impractical. It was human.

Yanek had geared up the Prometheus. Shaw didn't know what he had done, but the purple fire pluming out of the vehicle was queer. It pulsed and danced with a ferocity unmatched. That was when a loud popping sound came and the top section of the ship came off and flew overhead, crash landing a thruster into a spire.

It had to have been Vickers isolated module. Another smaller pod came next, with a less apparent releasing sound. It had to be actually Vickers now. Everyone else stayed on the ship? Janek, Chance, Ravel. She could feel protest build in her throat as Janeks voice feeded over the com.

”Shaw, I'm sorry about the kid. You did good.” the Prometheus rose up to greet the great ship. The contact instantaneously crushed the bridge. They were gone. The super sonic explosion that came after sent a halo of light and fire around the smaller ship.

Metal and glass, and blood and bone knocked the scythe shaped vesical from the air.

A scream from Vickers as her pod ejected drew Shaw to their new reality. Everything they had come to know from the last two years was gone and transformed into hellfire before their very eyes. The Dark metal apparatus landed with a force that set the ground into a series of trembles. It had landed just over 5 km from them. Its shadow loomed too close, too dark. She still couldn't see the sun. But now it was a black cloud that blotted the endless sky.

It began to fall, the smelted mess of tubes and sheet metal drew closer down on them. She was back to running, no, clawing to life. The race in her mind and lungs sent her full throttle across the pulling soil of her new home. This planet of death, despair, mountains and sand. Clouds were spurred under her foot, Vickers had tripped and fallen a while behind her.

Begging and crying, desperately pleading for her mother. Her body popped and crushed like stepping on a june beetle. Shaw didn't turn back, she couldn't. She stumbled, falling before a large rock outcrop. Her crucifiction. The eldritch ship pressed overhead. This was it. She pushed further back against the spire as her vision went black.

…

Apparently it would be too easy for Elizabeth to just die. Wither away into the unknown with the rest of her comrades. But now she was awake, the red pulsating and beeping of her suit only a light comparison to the humid choking feeling. She couldn't find a full breath, and that would be supported by her suit's alert.

2 minutes of oxygen left. How could this be happening? She gazed to either side, the yellow desperate light now searching for her. She reached for it, dragging her bruised and battered body from beneath this colossal wreck. The outcrop had saved her, if just barely.

Everything on the land had stilled. She was the only thing left living in hell. All the pieces of the Prometheus littered once clean ground. She stepped over wires, glass crunching beneath her boots. Vickers Module, to her relief, remained unchallenged. That's where she needed to go now.

She couldn't gather where this sense of urgency came from. Why did she want to keep living? She could just stop, right there, let herself suffocate slowly. It wouldn't honor a single person who died before her, though. And for that the ground continued to rush under her feet.

Gripping and leaping up onto the white ledge step of the Prometheus she stumbled into the door's padlock. She felt delirious, breathing in short spurts that made spit pool in her mouth. The door drew open, and she threw herself to the other side, slamming her hand into the internal lock. It sealed again, and she ripped her helmet off her head.

Clean cold air flooded her lungs and she coughed, swallowing and bracing herself against the wall. Shaw searched around, for anything, everything she could get. Oxygen tubes piled in a cabinet within the airlock, and she made sure to replace her own before stockpiling more into her utility belt.

A red axe box drew her attention, empty. Vickers would never have removed that. Someone was here. impossible they shot that fucker out of the sky. There was nothing she could get to protect herself, and so she blindly stumbled through the airlock and into the main compartment.

The crystal chandelier in the ceiling had shattered, bits of it draping low into the room and others on the floor. Bottles of vodka and wine had been shattered behind the bar, disappointingly. The liquid pooled and left the ground slick. She had to try to be quiet and careful, both of which she was less than succeeding at.

A shattered screen of a girl with a violin was the only lighting, blue and green led lights casting long shadows. She was started by a slamming, and a mechanical cry. The pod room. The door was still sealed, but she killed everything within it. Or at least she thought she had.

Shaw approached it with a sense of foreboding dread. Through the porthole windows she could peer at that pod, covered in her blood, swaying back and forth. That explained the whirring. A large slimed tentacle slammed over her view. It was… her only offspring. It was humongous now, but she wouldn't be damned to open the door to check the full scale. She backed away, slowly.

A shifting of fabric from a far corner caused her to spin around. A? Who?

”Dr.Shaw?”

Chapter 13: Freedom

He never thought he’d see Elizabeth again. To be fair, he never thought he'd see anything ever again. The blood rushing in his ears as he fell, the palpitations of his heart feeling like it would burst out. It all stopped when his back hit solid metal, knocking the air from his lungs and sent him sputtering.

He had managed to land on the ‘arm’ of the colossus ship. He gripped for all he had, sweat and dirt dug under his palms as he gripped his nails into the metal etchings. This was, by far, scarier than ever boarding a spaceship. And before that had been the most exciting thing he had ever done in his life. For sure, now, this was more reckless than any of it.

The greeting of hued light stung his eyes. He couldn't help but cry, and whenever he moved, the sharp fire that filled his nerves made him wish he truly was dead. But he wasn’t, and he was more lucky than most of his collegues. His very dead colleagues .

Winsley wouldnt let this pass and pretend he was a martyr. When the ground approached eyelevel once more he struggled with all his might to pull himself even semi upright. His legs shook, and he struggled to maintain his balance as his feet rested flat to the exterior of the flying coliseum. He leapt, and this time he found more success.

His knees slammed into the ground, but at least he made it. The aches that shot through his body fought the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. He couldn't see Elizabeth, but Vicker’s module was shooting out of the Prometheus overhead and off into a rock spire. She had managed to warn them, before she… no, she couldnt be dead. He didn't see it. Winsley wouldn't believe it unless her cold mangled body was laid on the earth before him.

For that he gathered himself again, standing to his feet to watch the Prometheus begin its ascent. The thrusters of the ship glowed a violent purple, gliding up to meet the Derelict. Upon contact a shattering boom disturbed the still air, the ship blowing into a fiery inferno. Janek was in that ship, the guilt stuck to Winsleys gut. He watched him die. Did he know he was even still alive?

As the ash and metal began to fall and pelt the ground, Winsley ran as hard as he could. The tendons in his legs burned, his lungs sore and body screaming. He could hardly stand properly upright, stumbling forward in pain and panic. When the Juggernaut fell, he could hear the pleading of Vickers as she was squished under its weight. Then it fell to its side, finally still upon the earth. He was the last on alive on Planet 224. The last crew member from the Prometheus.

His voice felt choked in his throat, gazing upon a deserted landscape he’ll never be able to leave. He could die of starvation, suffocation, dehydration, maybe a nasty fall or infection. Maybe he damaged his spine already and would end up paralyzed. He didnt know, and didnt want to theorize any further.

The white gleam of Vicker’s module caught his eye, surely it wasn't so destroyed? Continuing his hobbling sprint, he made it to the vehicle. Its left thruster was damaged, sparks and wires sputtering from where it crashed into solid volcanic rock. But the rear airlock was still functional, and he hauled himself up and slammed his hand into the padlock. It opened wide and limped inside, relieved when the door finally shut behind him. At least now there was some sense of normalcy.

Albeit a corporate leech version of it. That felt…harsh. He had liked Vickers, past the cold exterior. Could they have shared coffee again?

A red axe box caught his eye, and he unlatched the glass to pull the weapon from its stand. It was, by far, the strangest axe he had ever held. It curved unconventionally. You couldn't cut wood with this, so what even was its purpose? Winsley didn't know, but having it made him feel even a little more safe.

He left the airlock, wandering into the room of shattered glass and violin music. It was eerie, the chandelieur in the cieling waving softly. He stumpled behind the bar. Glass shards and vodka littered the floor, but he cleared a spot just for himself to sit. A few bottles managed to make the landing, and in his desperation he took off his suit helmet and began drinking.

….

That was the last thing he remembered when he woke up. He was propped sitting up, a wicked headache building in his temples. The alcohol did little more but exacerbate his exhaustion and aches, but it gave him temporary relief. And enough so to sleep apparently, wiping drool off his lips.

What had woke him was the hum of the outer airlock opening, and solid footsteps stumbling through. There was no way anyone survived this, except hilariously; him. The door into the room retreated after some shuffling in the airlock. He didn't dare look around the counter. For all he knew, the Engineer hadn't died and was searching for any last living morsel. Did he think he could fly this? If it wasn't for the busted thruster maybe he could, but for how long? Just to drift out in space forever?

Papers shuffled, and class crunched beneath strange feet. It certainly didn't sound as heavy as he thought the Engineer would. He would be booming through this room, the sound of his breath would echo. But no, there was nothing. Nothing but Winsleys own breathing, a soft thumping and the movement of the intruder.

He decided to look, it couldn't hurt to be sure? He peeked his eyes over the bar and almost felt his jaw drop. Red hair greeted him, and in an instant he recognized her.

”Dr. Shaw?” She whirled around at the sound of his voice, although it was clear she had already been searching. Searching for what?

“Easton.” She gasped, the recognition on her face clarifying her scrunched features as she bound over to him. Her arms wrapped around him, an all encompassing bearhug that he wished could never end. She held him out in arms length in front of herself, eyes studying his face in disbelief. “How did you?—“

”I fell onto the Engineers ship. I jumped off, I thought you were dead.” Fresh hot tears ran down his face, and she smiled softly.

“I'm so glad to see you're ok.” The words mumbled from her lips were warm.

“You—“

”Elizabeth. Elizabeth, are you there? This is David.” David? Her eyes met his, and a hardened mask settled over her. What was Winsley missing between her and David?

”Yeah. Yeah I'm here?” She responded sharply.

”You need to get out, immediately. He's coming for you.”

“Who's coming?” A loud crash at the airlock outer door answered for him. The alarms of the module began to screech, the airlock was broken through and the oxygen in the room was close to being compromised. Winsley could feel the air get pulled from his lungs and mouth. He scrambled for his helmet, and behind him the final airlock door opened. He could picture the white greek statue-esque alien now. Standing over Elizabeth. He struggled with his helmet, and as he put it on around his head he could hear the frantic scrambling and yelps of his mentor.

The air flooded back to him as his helmet finally sealed. He could focus now, on the threat the last people he loved died to destroy. The axe he found early sat on the floor, and he took it into his hands. The metal was cold, even through his suit glove. He rose up behind the counter to see Elizabeth's throat being strangled, held up against the wall adjacent to the medbay.

All the shaking in his bones quieted, he knew what he needed to do. Hauling himself up and over the counter he charged at the engineer, swinging the odd axe into the middle of his back. It howled in pain, dropping its release on Elizabeth for only a second. Its black soulless eyes rounded on Winsley, and he did all he could to not piss himself right there.

“DIE!” Elizabeth screamed and the sound of a lock pad being cleared echoed in the room. The medbay door swung open and huge beige tentacles launched out from the room. Was this what Dr. Shaw gave birth to? It had to be, but it had not even been a full day and it was at least as tall as the Engineer.

Their alien combatant seemed horrified by the medpod creature as it pulled him into the room. If it was strong enough to take an 8 foot being off its feet they would be as good as gone. He reached down for Elizabeth, who had gotten ensnared by her own trap. She was smart, fast. He admired her so greatly.

He tugged her loose, and they took the opportunity to run. Out the airlock and crashing into the soil outside. If there was any fighting continuing on inside, they couldn't hear it. Now the whistle of wind over the horizon greeted them. Orange sands littered with white scraps of metal, fiber, and ash. Everything left in total devastation.

Shaw fell to her knees, his once strong teacher now sobbing up at the sky. “I—I can't do this anymore. Charlie, so sorry.” Her voice quivered and she held her helmet in her hands. Winsley knelt down beside her, but he didn't know what to do. What could he do? What could he say?

”Dr. Shaw, are you there? Dr. Shaw can you hear me?” David's incessant voice came over the com again. She didn't look willing to answer, so Winsley did.

”Yes, we can hear you.” A pause at the other end.

”Winsley? I was afraid you were dead.”

”I was too.” At the same moment, Elizabeth clicked into the conversation.

”You have no Idea what being afraid is.”

“Please. I Know we’ve had our…. Differences. But I need to ask for your help, and I can help you in turn.” He seemed almost sorrowful. The end to his voice was most non robotic, but not human either. Elizabeth was right, he didn't know what being afraid was. Could he feel guilty either? Could he even… really love Winsley?

“Why?” was all Winsley could muster. “Why help us after this?” Another pause.

”I had no say until the death of Mr. Weyland. I act in my interest now… and I want us to get home.” Earth.

”Well, none of us are getting home now. Prometheus is gone.” Elizabeth snarked, and she seemed near done with the conversation as a whole.

”Not entirely… there's other ships. Like the one the Engineer had… I could operate them.” Now the silence settled upon the duo. Elizabeth, who had held a skeptical furrow in her brow looked… lost. Their eyes met, unspoken. It lasted for a beat before Elizabeth nodded.

”We’ll be right there.” Winsley nodded back to her, standing to his feet and reaching down a hand. She took it weakly. It seemed all her resolve had nearly left her. They began to wa;l back towards the shipwrecked derelict. They didn't speak, a comfortable silence drifting out between them. Connecting them. Elizabeth was the one who broke it.

”David infected Holloway. He knew what it would do to me… and he brought Weyland down there because he knew he would die.” Winsley shook his head.

”There's no way he could’ve known that.” He protested.

”He knew they were going to destroy Earth, all of humanity. And yet he did not let any of us know until we were there… I think he planned this. For his freedom.”

Freedom. He had spoken about it to Winsley before, but… it was for the best right? Weyland was an egomaniac past his prime, he needed to die. Or was it that WInsley just wanted David to be free? Did all of his friends really have to die? Was that the price of his freedom?

”If he really can bring us home… then we should trust him. For now, let him explain himself…”

“I don't want to go back home. I have too many questions… Why did the Engineers decide to kill us? They created us… were we. Not enough? Not perfect enough? That's all I’ve been thinking about. What could we have done better?”

“Well… not coming here could've been a good start.” That made her laugh, and that sound lifted Winsleys spirits more than anything else presently could.

”Yeah…maybe.”

…

They made it up into the derelict with… complications. Winsleys left leg decided to fall lame, and maybe all the movement he was doing could be to blame. His spine was on fire but he lifted himself into the ship all the same. They wandered back into the haunting room. The corpses of Ford, Jackson, and Weyland still littered the floor. No smell could make it through their masks but… they could only imagine.

”Over here!” David's voice could be heard, hsi disconnected arms waving for their attention. They walked over, and Elizabeth stared daggers into the android.

”My cross.”

”The pouch, in my utility belt.” She bent down and took the necklace back. Winsley had almost never seen her without it, and now he was confused when she lost it. That's when it clicked; David had taken it from her.

“Even after all this, you still believe don't you?” He asked, more of an observation than a question. She recognized that too, and took her time to take her helmet off and pull the chain over her head.

“You said you could understand their navigation, use their maps.” She crouched beside his head, whose eyes batted between her and the quiet man behind her.

”Of course.”

”Good. I want to go to their home, the Engineers. Our mission is not done yet.” She rose to her feet, looking at Winsley. “You don't have to do this either. You… you could have a family. A life.’

He shook his head. “After this? A normal life doesn't sound half as interesting.” Since it was clear her urging wasn't going to make Winsley change his mind, her attention returned to the beheaded synthetic.

”Ok, well, let's try to get him out of here. Help me with the body.”

Notes:

I extended the story for one last treat chapter, I hope you guys enjoyed this all though! Thank you so much for all the love and support I’ve seen on this <3 Feel free to comment more ideas for the future! SO FAR more AOT fanfictions can be expected, as well as a Walter x Daniels x reader story! Love you all!!

Chapter 14: Epilogue

After walking what felt like kilometers and taking the only surviving sand buggy through the last stretch, Winsley felt like death incarnate. His body ached with sharp stings and chills, teeth clenched to each other as if it would hold down the pain. By now his left leg was entirely dragging behind him, and the soreness in his body hardened into stonelike tension. He hadn’t spoken a word to David over the travel, or Elizabeth. Although, it seemed Elizabeth didn't mind anyways, something distant was etched into her face, her thoughts were elsewhere- he knew.

The lookalike pyramids of stones and death felt like empty premonitions, and the trek back into the halls only served to remind Winsley of the ghosts that followed him. In less than a week he had lost almost everyone he had grown to care for, and, on the day of wreckoning, he turned 26. It felt like a hollow victory.

Sean would never see his 44th birthday. Rafe can never reach his 30 year old milestone. Vickers might have had children, at some point in her life. And Elizabeth… her husband is a flicker of her imagination and a forlorn memory now.

Would he be able to remember them? Even now their faces were blurry in his mind, could a day come where he wont be able to ever picture them at all? Or would they haunt him for the rest of his life? Along the dark dusty halls, dank with the smell of soaked stones, Winsley cradled David’s head in his arms. The bag had been left in the buggy, one they'd never need again. His body was dragged behind the final two scientists, wrapped in rope that linked around their waists.

David led them, his tone was quiet with static intruding his words. His piercing blue eyes would flick to Winsley’s after every direction, as if begging for a response, or anything.

What words could fix any of this. Nothing anyone could say would take back the lives lost. It wouldn't undo the betrayal of the company, or even David's own. For now, Winsley decided that he wouldn't say anything, the safest path until all three could sit down and… discuss whatever there even was left to dissect.

Passing through the chilled rooms, towering with vials, the tension that stretched between the trio was so thick not even a knife could slice through it. Then they came to the oriary, or, was it now a control room? Like one that had been glazed with the blood of Ford, Jackson and Sir. Peter Weyland. Could this all have been done for freedom? Some semblance of it that would lead the mechanical son of the conglomerate mastermind to unleash this tragedy on the crew of the Prometheus? Did this really have to happen?

It felt like all the air from Winsley’s lungs had been ripped out, suffocating under the weight of surviving. He handed off the head of what at one point he considered to be a lover, to Elizabeth, scratching at his helmet until it clanked to the ground. It was the only sound that had been made yet besides the echoing of their footsteps. He tore off the rope that dug into his waist.

Winsley would snatch back the head of David, limping over to the soft console he had seen the android operate mere hours before.

“Tell me how to turn it on.” His voice remained taut, propping the android on a clear spot on the console. David’s eyes seemed to flinch for a moment, but he instructed the man regardless.

Winsley took the flute into his hands, breathing out the eerie tune that set the room and console alight. They went through the process, and if Winsley took his mind away from his hands, maybe he could imagine this was something normal. David helping him with tasks beyond his understanding, they had done this before. But it wasn't normal, none of this. How differently could this life have gone?

The center of the room opened up, the jockey chair rising into the center of rotating rings of planets and galaxy clusters. This was a sight Elizabeth hadn’t yet seen, but one tragically nostalgic to Winsley. Just two days prior, where the jockey chair sat, on another ship, David and Winsley shared their first kiss. Was David thinking about this too? The synethetic’s eyes were illuminated with the light of the chamber, but never once crossed the perceived threshold between the pair.

Now, it was a question of who would or even could fly this vehicle? David was in parts, and neither Elizabeth or Winsley had any form of experience. So, they turned their attention to who could fix their only way out.

“El, I don't have any talent in the field of synthetics.” Winsley tore his eyes from the blonde man, to the russet haired woman running her hand over the grooves and mechanics of the pilot chair. She paused, her stare focusing on something ahead of her before switching her attention to her student. Or was he even her student anymore… Peers?

”I can fix him, but I’d like a helping hand.”

“Yeah, unhook his body, we should find a flat surface other than the floor. For your back’s sake, and tools?”

”I have a suitable selection in my utility belt.” David’s voice cut in. Elizabeth's eyes brushed over the two before nodding.

“Room, got it. Let’s leave him here until we do.” Elizabeth seemed more than keen to shake him for a moment. So she too took the rope from off her hips, slowing when she noticed Winsley gearing up to follow her.

”You shouldn’t push yourself more than you have to, Easton” She attempted to bar him with her arms.

He pushed through, a small quirk to his lips. “I'll rest when we're off this deathrock.” And so long as he stayed moving, maybe the adrenaline could fight off the sharp edge of his pain for a little while longer.

Sensing she couldn't shake him too, she fell into slow stride with Winsley as they perused the Gregorian halls, passing small oval windows blackened by crowded earth. Doorways loomed over them, and it served as a constant reminder of its alien nature. There seemed to be a variety of storage rooms, filled with queerly labeled crates and scrolls. There were no bedrooms, no kitchens. A single study with a large desk scattered with star maps was the only room with any humanity. When they had finished a wander of one wing they walked back to the other. But even in a situation like this, they couldn't hide a shared curiosity.

”They must remain in hypersleep for the duration of a flight.” Elizabeth pondered.

“Without an attendant either, their ships must have an extraordinary self-piloting system. Imagine if Weyland had gotten a hand on this technology.”

”It would’ve boosted the colonization industry by decades…god knows we need it.” She nodded along in agreement, the way the doctor does when deep in thought.

“Or we could have focused on saving what we already had. Who says we wouldn’t do the same to another planet… I have a feeling the Engineers knew that.” Winsleys eyes couldn't help but search the orirary as they passed back through it and down the right wing.

“Then why not help us? All those stories of aliens sharing stories of saving the earth and not going to nuclear war; why couldn’t they have been real?” It was as unbelievable as she made it out to be, even Winsley knew that.

”Maybe they don’t even know that lesson yet. They have bases of bioweapons on this far away planet, surely they're only smarter enough to set it up away from their home. Weyland would’ve done the same thing if he had the chance in his lifetime.” What Weyland wouldn’t have done to achieve this in his lifetime.

“Maybe you’re right, but I hope you’re wrong.”

The conversation came to an end, and they searched quietly once more. A room near the far back of the hall resembled what could be called a medical bay. It was largely empty, structures covered in sheets scattered about with a slab stretcher highlighted in the middle. Bingo. Maybe there could be some pain killers or something too.

Now triumphant they returned to David in the jockey room. They took back up the ropes, and hauled his body and head back down the hall. Picking up his arms and legs they managed to get him up onto it. They had to line up his head, taking his utility belt off to check the contents.

“All you’ll need is the solder pen, it has a blue handle and long metal tip. Can’t miss it. There's a cord wrapped around the base… in my neck there is a port, insert the end into it.” A self powered repair kit , this was Winsley’s first time ever hearing of one. But Elizabeth obliged, plugging it in and waiting until the tip glowed orange with heat.

WInsley peeled down his suit, taking a cloth that had once covered something resembling a telescope to hide his bare features.

“Thank you, Easton.” David murmured, Winsley offering a hesitant nod before moving to hold his head in place.

“Ok now tell me what to do.”

”Green to green, red to red. It’s made to be quite simple.” The muscles in his face shifted beneath Winsley’s fingertips. He couldn’t look at him.

He studied Elizabeth, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she began to remend his wiring. After each new connection, his arms or fingers would twitch. Once or twice his lips did, as if it pained him. It took less time than they thought it would, making it really an easy process. Mending the skin was messy, longer, but David assured his body would begin to heal itself slowly. He would likely fix it himself later, on his own. He was always alone wasn't he.

Maybe he deserved it, after all this. It couldn't be excused as some misunderstanding between ai and humans. He was, if anything, so much like them himself. But could all of this be blamed on him? He didn’t know when they first landed, nor could he have caused Rafe and Sean to get lost. But he poisoned Charlie, and Elizabeth by proxy. The guys in the cargo bay, would he have known Sean would be reanimated by the pathogen. Why not Rafe too?

Then everyone, at the end. If he was sure the Engineer could be violent then he knew the price of waking it from hypersleep. That surely was his fault. Or did he have some hope, any hope, that it wouldn’t be? Winsley wished there was less grey area. Or was he the one willing more into existence?

“All done.” Elizabeth chirped, unplugging the solder pen and setting it on a rolling tray they had unearthed. Too human, all of this was. From David to this archaic ship.

The now reassembled synthetic sat up on the table, slowly. He tapped his thumbs to his fingers, blinking a few times before offering what could be considered a smile to Elizabeth.

“You're incredibly kind Elizabeth… Let us get up in the air now, shall we?” He pulled his suit back up, the edges tattered and stained by his white blood. Neither Winsley nor Elizabeth responded, but followed him out to the control room anyways. Where they were heading was still uncertain for now, but they needed to get off and away before any of that. So, David crawled into the chair, being engulfed by metal plates that made up the elephantine suits the engineers wore. Or a version of it.

The room was quiet, except for the mechanical clicks and whirls as David took control of the hull. The ship began to creak and groan, the familiar sounds of air being pushed through stone passage ways indicated that it was beginning.

“Hold onto something, or find a place to keep still.” With that the ship floor lurched, cloudy filtered light peeking through the windows along the halls. Winsley and Elizabeth glanced at each other, before splitting off for places to rest. Elizabeth ended up in the great chair, and Winsley sat beside a cryopod. He held on tight as the feeling of ascension overtook them, it was far faster than the Prometheus had ever been. But this ship was so haunted and covered in dust, unlike the ship they had grown to love. The one David took care of the entire time during cryosleep.

If he had wanted this freedom of his, why hadn’t he killed them then? Cryopod accidents are far from unheard of. Why now? Winsley had questions, too many. He had to ask David, there was no way he couldn’t. They're going to be stuck on this ship together for who knows how long, so maybe there could be time to at least become peers again. Friends? Is he in a position to be able to forgive?

The glow from the windows increased as they rose above the land, away from the death and destruction like a phoenix. They went up for several more minutes, before the ship jolted hard and sent them scattering. Winsley slid away from the cryopod and off the platform, an ‘oof’ escaping his lungs. Elizabeth fell from the chair, hitting her face into the soft keys of the console. When the ship stilled, laughs echoed from them both. Even despite them falling on their asses. At least they were free from the planet known as LV-223.

…

The remainder of the evening, Winsley was forced to finally rest. Only when he did had he realized the extent of the red hot pain traveling up his spine, the unease in his stomach, and the soreness in his knees. Elizabeth cleaned out some of the storage rooms, shifting things around until they resemble sleeping chambers. There wasn’t much to make beds from, except some stacked crates covered with sheets she had collected. It was more than they assumed they'd get, so they counted it as a win.

Elizabeth quickly retired for the night, assuredly the adrenaline she carried had worn off into exhaustion, and pain, and grief. Winsley turned to stumbling about when he was no longer being supervised. David had been consumed by the oriary, star maps scattered on the floor around the Jockey chair. He had been able to find many mapping tools, magnifying glasses, pencils, what have you. Even in the time they were given. Winsley didn't feel strong enough to approach him yet.

So he looked through scrolls, unraveling them to expose strange hieroglyphs and sketches. Many seemed to be of the pathogen they rode with, how it worked. But he couldn’t make out any real information from the images, and he knew if he wanted to he would have to talk to their android companion.

Could he just pretend nothing happened? Make peace with himself and the universe and move on? Would it be better for all of them? In the back of his mind though, one little thought nagged at him. Could he love him again?

David must have had a ringing in his ear, as he found him first. He didn't speak when he entered. Instead he leaned against the doorway, as if waiting for an invitation. He always did that, approach at the perfect time. Had he perhaps been waiting on Winsley? He cleared his throat, something requiring of a synthetic. No, he did it out of choice. Everything he did was calculated. Winsley glanced up from the scroll he had intentionally been fixated on, trying to peel his attention from the presence of the blonde man.

“I must say, I’m not entirely surprised to find you here of all places. Even now your curiosity precedes you.” He mused, as if this was normal. Any of this. Winsley smiled a little, the thought was nice.

”I thought you’d find it first. Most of these scrolls are about the pathogen.” Speaking it out loud made the room feel hotter, smaller. But David approached, crouching down to peer over his shoulder at the paper clutched in Winsleys hands.

“It’s interesting, the depths they explored. Makes one wonder how it is they ever lost control of it.”

“They can die too, I think anyone with some semblance of morality can make mistakes.” Winsleys words left a quiet hum in their wake.

”…Even androids?” David's voice held something in it, hope? Wishfulness?

”… Even you are mortal, in the end.” Those little words, could it be forgiveness Winsley was feeling? Should he be a bigger person? He… He could never bring himself to forgive his mother. That left him with a dark hole he felt no one could fill, and when someone did, could he lose them again so easily? His selfishness meant his mother would never know what happened to him, or where he went, if someday she ever cared enough to look.

Finally, after this day of misery, he met David’s eyes. They held some unnameable feeling, something so uniquely him. Something that had brought Winsley to him from the moment he woke up from cryosleep.

Tentatively, David reached for his hands, the scroll falling into Winsleys lap. David's hands were bigger than his, something he hadn’t focused on much before. He had thought of everything else, the mission, Elizabeth, what about David?

“I… I know now that what I did was unforgivable. You lost many of your peers due to my… well nothing else but my ignorance. I didn’t consider how this would affect you, or anyone else. I apologize, and I don't expect forgiveness. I in fact dont want it, I—just, let me help fix what I caused. Us; me, you, Elizabeth, we’ll go to the engineers, ask them our questions. Maybe they could be the key to reversing the damaged ozone on earth, or cleaning the waterways, and stabilizing food insecurity. We could live a reclaimed life.” He gazed at the younger man, a frown tinging his lips when there was no response offered. Not from Winsey’s expression, and not from any provided words.

“I want the company to know everything, where we went, what happened to… everyone. I don't want their families to be waiting for, for people who won't return.”

”Of course.” David nodded as soon as it left his lips, pressing a gentle squeeze into the backs of Winsley’s hands. “Is there… anything else?”

”Yeah actually, I want you to translate these scrolls for me. I want to understand this in the way that you do.”

”I don't know as much as you seem to assume.”

“Well then we can learn together, deal?” This seemed to surprise the android, as if all of this did. The tension in his shoulders seemed to resign slightly, and he agreed.

”For now, may I assist you to your room? You should rest rather than make yourself worse… I suspect you have an incomplete spinal cord injury. Treatable with rest and a brace.” He removed a hand from Winsleys, using it to wipe away sweat and dirt that had built up along the man’s face.

“I don't think an engineer brace could fit.” Winsley mused slightly, but the pinch of serious concern between David’s eyebrows remained.

”I will make one that does, it's the least I'm able to do.”

“Thank you, David.” The tension within the room pulsated between them, but it was different from the blood and tear soaked space they had had. It was something softer, maybe Winsley really could forgive him. But he’d need to earn it.

”For you, Easton, always.” He murmured, his eyes drifting down to Winsleys lips before pulling himself up to his feet. David held a hand out, one as equally covered in grime as his own.

“Lets get cleaned up and rest, assuredly there is some liquid aboard this ship.”

Turns out, like most times, David was right. In one of the many tucked away crates there were jars of water, fresher than any Winsley had tasted in a long while. Until the moment he saw the crystalline bottles, he hadn’t acknowledged any thirst or hunger. After sasiating his dry mouth he attended to the dirt and dust caked into his suit. A suit once a rich navy blue was now pale, dotted with shades of rust and cream. It washed away with ease, and as he began to feel cleaner, he realized how useless this uniform now was until they were off this ship again.

So he peeled off the breastplate, staring at the insignia of the Prometheus. A mission and ship that no longer existed. Something for the past nearly year now that he had prepared for; was gone. As easy as if it never happened.

”I wouldn’t guess there would be any clothes suitable for a person on this ship?” Winsley raised his gaze to David, who had been meticulously cleaning himself as well. He paused, his eyes crinkling thoughtfully.

”I'm sure we could make do. Allow me the night and much will be prepared by morning, for you and Elizabeth. I'm sure… that she would also enjoy clothing that isn't imbued in sweat.”

”I think we all would.” His eyebrows rose a bit towards the android.

”For the time being I will remain in my suit… remind myself of what I’ve done.” David’s tone was definitive, and wasn't a topic either wanted to press much further.

Patiently, Winsley waited until David felt clean enough and the two hobbled down the hall. As uninviting as the makeshift bed proved to be, the heaviness that resided within Winsley’s bones made it more and more appealing.

David lowered him down to the crates, helping the man pull his leg up and onto the surface. He took the improvisonal sheets and shook out the last clinging bits of dust, before resting them over Winsley’s body.

“Sleep well, Easton.” As he went to leave, a hand pulled the fabric of his suit.

“Can you… stay? At least until I fall asleep.”

David seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding. “Let me recover my tools then.” With that, he slipped out of the room only to return minutes later with bundles of star maps in his arms. He sat on the floor near the makeshift bed, spreading the papers out. It would do. Even in the low light, David worked methodically. And in the dim room, Winsley fell asleep to the sound of pages rustling, pencil scratching and slow even breathing.

…

Days to weeks passed on the dreadnaught like a blur, one that seemed quite never-ending, and hopeless at times. There was no formal discussion ever had by the trio, much to Winsley’s surprise.

His mentor had gone back to her semi-normal self, bustling around within rooms organizing their stocks and whatever else the ship had to offer. David had indeed by the next official day on the ship created new clothes for them and Winsley’s much needed brace. The articles were flowy and loungeable. Seeing Elizabeth so casual was hardly something Winsley was accustomed too.

But over the days her eyebrows were less furrowed, movements less shaky. That wasn’t to say Winsley followed suit. David had been right about the spinal injury, after a brief examination. And a lack of his hormones lead to him feeling tired, and weak. His mood swung around the clock, but neither were assumed to be lifelong, or anything that would get worse. The side effects of testosterone withdrawal would eventually fade, but without any new hormone influx Winsley expected to remain weaker. Until his back healed and symptoms faded, Winsley was left out of much of the heavy work. In that time, David had made keys for the Engineers language, that way Winsley would at least have something to do.

For hours on end he would decrypt the writings left behind by their very much living ancestors. Something called ‘The Deacon’ came up often during his readings. It was the same name that had been engraved into the statue within the head room. This helped solidify their idea of it being a religious artifact, but nothing much else described exactly what it meant by that. What it was. What they could gather is that the pathogen had originated from the idea of the Deacon. Although that still left more questions than answers.

At night, they would all sit together in the Pilot room. Once they had mapped out their destination, the ship was in autopilot, not much left to do. Occasionally David would check to make sure they were still on course, but would be left pleased by the technology. To pass time they would share what they’re learning, theorize. What would it be like when they get there? Would they only be met with hostility?

”They had culture; music, art, and stories. I think we may be more in luck than we realize.” David had said one evening, he sat on the platform, legs dangling over the edge. Elizabeth, as had become usual, sat in the console chair. It hung around her, echoing her frame.

”A Lot like us, which means their fear of us could make them aggressive. Or they’ll be curious. We won't know until we get there.” She shrugged slightly, turning her head when she heard Winsley enter the room. He held a stack of papers, each having a sketch of what seemed to be engineers, yet they looked softer, less mean.

”I think there may be two species of Engineers, or races maybe? These don't look the same as the one we met, I can't wait to meet them.” He gushed. Over the many many hours, he had grown an almost appreciation for the giant humanoids. After all, they created them. Perhaps this was the closest thing he would ever feel to religious ideation.

”You very well may be right.” David reached to take the papers from the other, flipping through with a curious gaze. In the days following the tragedy, he too had become different. Less uncomfortable. The whole atmosphere had become calmer, and at times, Winsley almost could forget everything. All he could ever need was here on the ship.

After Elizabeth would end up retiring, David and Winsley would spend a lot of time with the oriary activated, gazing at galaxies that had been so far that not even Weyland Inc knew they existed. At times, they would talk. About the future, the past, anything they could think about. Over the hours they spent, Winsley had felt a rekindling in his chest. Something about the android that would draw him in time and time again.

They would never share this with their companion, after everything… a negative reaction would be far more than understandable. So they enjoyed each other secretly. Stolen moments between midnight and dawn, exchanging glances and touches only they could ever know about.

On more than a few occasions, they spoke about their future together. Could they forge something from this, some sort of mismatched life. It felt shot down, simply by circumstance. It all hung on the very thin ‘what ifs’ they had compiled. So much could go wrong, or right, but they wouldn't know until then.

As the time onboard the Engineer’s vessel drew on, the rations edible enough for the two humans would dwindle, until it was decided that for the rest of the duration; they should go into hypersleep. It wasn't a favored decision, for neither Winsley or Elizabeth. But, it wasn’t up to them unfortunately, it was left once again to circumstance.

So, for the last night they would all be awake long after it had become what they considered bedtime. The oriary was up, illuminating the space with the green blue incandescent glow. It bathed their faces, but for Elizabeth’s; it highlighted her scrunched up features.

”I can’t help but think of this as our final night,” she began, her voice murky with what could only be described as sorrow. Winsley couldn’t blame her. “When we wake up, we’ll already be at our destination. Then anything could happen, we could all die or be turned away… then what?”

”We still have years until we get there, we can ponder it in hypersleep.” Winsley shrugged, he was as dejected as her. Moreso, for the thought that he wouldn’t be able to spend time with David until then. But he would be here on the ship all alone, tending to them.

“If we’re even conscious enough to direct our thoughts that is. I don't think we will be, I wasn’t last time.” She shook her head, resting it in her hands. Over the weeks, her hair had grown longer, hanging past her shoulders. But she didn’t look as tired as she had during their days on the Prometheus, which was a perk of this precarious situation.

”I will be awake the whole time, I can come up with some plans if that's any consolation.” David offered, to which Elizabeth picked up her head.

”That would be nice, thank you David.” In the space that stretched between their exchange, the android pulled out two pieces of paper from the suit he still donned. He handed one to both of the others, and they opened them jointly. Inside the folded page were graphite sketches of them both, candid, and not overly detailed but enough to capture the feelings of both subjects. It was touching, something they could call their own on this ship.

”David! You never told me you were an artist!” Winsley gasped as his eyes spotted over every stroke that was so uniquely David’s. The man seemed flushed for a moment, surprised, before sweeping some hair from his eyes with a small smile.

”I’ve had time to discover my knack for it, but it has been rather occupying as well. You can put them in the pods with you when you resign in the morning, I estimate they will remain rather untouched even in a stasis.” He was so thoughtful in ways the scientists hadn’t accounted for prior to this adventure they set out on. It seemed the gift eased some of Elizabeth’s anxieties.

”That would be nice to wake to, other than everything else we will face.” She smiled softly, refolding the delicate page and tucking it into her pants pocket. She rose from the chair, stretching her arms above her head. “We should go rest, no point in delaying the inevitable.” She gestured to Winsley.

He nodded, rising up from his seat on the platform. “How I will miss my nights on our crate cots.” He mused, gazing back to David as Elizabeth made her exit.

“Would you like to stay with me tonight?” He asked, in a tone soft enough to dodge the echo-prone rooms detection.

>”How could I say no to such a generous offer.” David responded, following Winsley like he had many times before to his chamber. Unlike before, though, they shared the makeshift bed together.

There they laid, skin to skin, basking in the little warmth the blankets offered, Winsleys hands cradled the face of his synthetic partner, taking in the blue glow of his eyes.

”I think I’ll miss this most when you’re gone.” David murmured.

”What? Sex? I thought androids didn’t have those innate desires.” Winsley teased, before a hand came to shush him.

”While you are correct, no, that is not what I will miss. Not to say I don't cherish the connection I have with you. No, I will long for this closeness. Being able to study your features as if they are my own. I haven’t had someone to care for me, to forgive me, like you have. These treasures I have acquired by having you present in my life, why, even in the years I wait for you to wake up I won't forget them.” He leaned forward, pressing soft kissings over the other’s cheeks.

”I’m sorry we have to leave you alone again…” The brunette managed to weasle free of his muzzle, and David sighed softly.

”It's not something I haven’t adjusted to… and you will still be there. So long as you don't mind me admiring you in your sleep.” He offered a gentle smile.

”How could I ever?” Was his partner's response, and with an enthused chuckle David wrapped both of his arms around the man and pulled him onto his chest.

”Well then I will memorize your sleeping face until the day we arrive.” He held Winsley close, nestling his face into the cranny of his neck.

“Promise?”

”I Promise, my dear.”

The next morning was more forlorn than any they had experienced in a while. They had awoken, and made their way to the pilot room with bellies full with dreary breakfasts made of the last of their rations. This was a good thing, Winsley kept reminding himself. They needed to do this to get there, and Elizabeth wouldn’t be able to continue to spend her time fixating on a far off future.

“When you wake up, we will be in their homeworld.” David spoke to Elizabeth as she settled into her pod.

“Let's hope they will accept our arrival.” Even on her resting bed for the next few years, she couldn’t help but worry.

”Don't worry about that until we are there, Elizabeth. Sleep well.” He smiled softly, before pressing a button on the side of the pod to close the lid. She was now encapsulated into what they hoped would be a peaceful sleep.

It was Winsley’s turn now, and David's attentiveness did not spare him. He helped the other down into the pod, the limpness of Winsley’s left leg hadn’t left him yet like they had hoped.

”Do you think it will resolve itself while in cryo?” Winsley asked, nervously crinkling the folded portrait in his hand.

“Perhaps, but I think it's not possible to predict with an Engineer pod.” David replied, his voice gentle as he crouched down beside him. His hand found Winsley’s, nuzzling his face into the back of his hand.

“I'll miss you.” Winsley whispered, trying to soak in all of the blonde’s features before he would eventually be asleep and left to the freedom of his mind.

“I will miss you more. I think you will be just fine without me though, it will be as if I never left.” He assured him, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss on Winsley’s forehead. “Sleep well, my love.”

”Smell you later, David.” Winsley smiled softly. His synthetic lover let out a soft chuckle, before withdrawing from the side of his pod.

”Smell you in a while, Easton.” With a click the pod doors drew together over the anthropologist, flooding his lungs with cold cryogas before he fell into a deep slumber.

…

Having one's head slam into the glass of their cryopod is not a preferred way to wake up.

Metallic blood leaked into Winsley’s mouth as his eyes snapped open to the lights of his chamber. He clawed at the clear coffin doors, snaking his fingers where they held together and prying them apart. At first only his wrist made it through, then an arm, then a shoulder, until he managed to wrought his upper body through the threshold.

Another shutter of the ship helped to fling him to the floor. As he struggled against the shiver inducing metal floors, everything that came before this moment flooded back to him. The Prometheus, David, Elizabeth. Gazing over to his mentor's pod, he found it empty. Had she been woken up first? What was happening?

He pushed himself off the ground, the unfriendly ache of his leg and back greeting him as he moved. He made his way to the first window that he could see, and upon gazing out, he could see trees. They reminded him of redwoods, tall and towering above the forest floor. Had they crashed?

”David! David?” Winsley shouted down the halls, pacing around unsuccessfully. The only room that would remain unturned was the Vial room, or Cargo bay as David had named it. He crossed through the room they had spent countless nights becoming acquainted with, opening the tall sliding door of the cargo area.

As he first entered, he could see nothing but a dark empty room. Rows and rows of the pathogen were gone entirely. That couldn't be right, where could it have gone? How would it have deployed? But as his eyes adjusted, he could see a familiar figure standing at the far side of the room.

”David? What-…” that was when he noticed crumpling of paper under his foot, the slumped woman at the android's. “Elizabeth?”

”Easton…I can explain everything.”