Futuristic Rage against the dying of the light (fru x arcsteel)

[arcsteel]

Ripley delved into a passive state as they headed back. Chewing on an energy bar, she let her gaze drop to her feet for most of the slow journey back. There was no question that she’d need to save her strength and composure, for every bit of it would be needed when Eric threw everything he could come up with at her, and perhaps the others too. The worst thing was that even if she knew this couldn’t be accomplished without the support of Team A, a part of her thought of the failure as hers alone. A small part, but still annoyingly convincing in its own intruding way.

Doc took care of them at the base, having a line outside his infirmary, with Spoon as top priority. Being left in the line without Silas or Doc by her side, while Eric stood close by with his cold demeanour, was far from desirable. Rip wanted to vomit, but that might be from the pain.

An hour or two later, the debrief was inevitable. Doc had sent her off with equal parts worry and encouragement. But it wasn’t until Silas arrived at the control room that she managed to relax her shoulders to some extent. She glanced at him until Eric turned his attention to her, and that’s when she met Eric’s gaze, puffing on her vape.

His words hit that part of her that blamed herself. Still, she started to report back on every step of what had happened this morning. She told him how difficult it had been to even get to the mast, how many Sweepers they’d faced, how everyone got shot, how Rex saved their asses. She told him about what they’d heard over the comms, and that they relatively quickly figured out to shut the damn things off—unlike someone else. And she told him about the crucial part, how she’d decided to make a run for it, but Silas stepped in. Rex agreed and chimed in with how he’d seen the Sweepers from afar and warned Rip with a shot. Everyone but her seemed to understand she would probably not be standing here amongst them if Silas hadn’t hauled her away.

“Christ,” Eric sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I am sick and tired of you making dangerous, rash decisions. When are you ever going to understand that we’re a team? We might not have had the luxury of communication this time, but your teammates made it pretty damn clear how gravely you misjudged those combat drones. You’re lucky you’re on the team as an expert and that we have no one to fully replace you now, otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?” Rip challenged. She’d feared he would one day say something like this, thinking she would crumble once he did. Instead, she straightened, hoping he would trip on his words.

Eric seemed to gather his thoughts, but responded rather quickly. “Otherwise I would have removed you from further assignments, as the risk you pose.”

Meaning a shitty salary, which he knew she couldn’t afford, and then bad credentials that would surely make it hard for her to find another well-paid job after this one. Eric’s words weighed heavy, after all—given his background.

 

[Fru]

As Rip laid out the details of what had happened that morning, Silas watched Eric with quiet intensity. Even from across the room, he could see every shift in the man’s expression—the slight twitch in his brow, the tightening of his jaw. It was subtle, but clear that no matter what Rip said, Eric had already made up his mind. He was going to blame her.

A sharp snort escaped Silas, loud enough to cut through the tension.

Eric’s eyes snapped to him. “Is there something you’d like to add?” he barked, brow lifting in challenge. Silas, who had been standing by the wall next to Spoon, pushed away from it and took a few steps forward.

“Yes. Quite a bit, actually,” he said, voice calm but laced with bite. He cast a glance toward Rip before his eyes settled coldly on Eric. The tension in the room thickened as Eric’s expression darkened. But the man said nothing, only raising his brows in a silent urge for Silas to go on.

“First of all, none of those decisions were made by Rip alone,” Silas said evenly. “Not the choice to keep moving toward the mast, and not the call to try and plant the charges. We—” he glanced briefly at Spoon and Rip, then back to Eric— “made those calls as a team.” A pause. “Which is more than can be said for you. Your team left position to follow a lead you should’ve known was false—”

Eric’s voice cut in. “Shut your mouth. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about—”

But Silas kept going, raising his voice. “—the comms were compromised. You knew that, and you still followed a false transmission when you should’ve cut the comms. You had a team relying on you and you abandoned the plan.” Eric was fuming, and now starting to move toward him. Silas voice sharpened, bracing for impact. “What kind of amateur are you? You fell for the most basic trick Liza could throw at you—”

Eric slammed Silas into the wall with full force, fist tight around the front of his shirt.
“I’ll throw you out right now, you ungrateful little shit!” he snarled, pressing him harder against the wall. Silas wanted to smile. But instead, his eyes narrowed, his hand gripping Eric’s wrist, forcing him to release his hold, taking a step forward.

“Go ahead,” he said, voice dangerously low. “I think I’ve got a better chance of surviving alone than under your command.”

 

[arcsteel]

Ripley parted her lips to answer Eric. With what, she didn't know. And it didn't matter. Silas, the damn fool, caught Eric's attention, and she understood by the first word spilling out of his mouth that he too was fed up with Eric's bull. Usually, no one said a thing when Eric was being unreasonable. Herself included. Most stayed silent, or shrunk like Ren in her chair. But Silas wasn't originally one of them. He didn't have the loyalty, nor the same reasons for wanting to keep peace and connection within the team.

Rip's mouth stayed ajar, watching Silas act like a verbal shield. One she felt to her very core—a warmth mixing with a tang of anxiety. She worried for him, not knowing if he realised what he was messing with, nor did she know what it would entail to have someone back her up. Still, it felt great.

Her eyes flicked to Spoon, wondering if he would speak up against the lies Silas told. The decisions had not been made in unison. She could still hear Silas words echo in her mind; Your call.
Obviously it had been the worst mistake of a lifetime to have her determine which route to pick, but Spoon said nothing. Neither did Rex—their faces without a trace of the truth. Rip wanted to smile. Felt herself grow an inch taller, knowing they were on her side.

Silas kept provoking—kept telling the harsh reality Eric couldn't face. Their leader was an amateur. Half the people in the room probably had more aptitude for leadership, and definitely more training for specialised military operations. Eric wasn't completely lost when within the frames of his experience, but outside it? Debatable. His piss-poor selective people skills were not even worth mentioning.

Rip winced when Eric went for Silas, and the thud as he slammed against the wall set them all on edge. She took half a step forward, only to stop at the low words emanating from Silas.

"That's it!" Eric growled, striking with a fist to Silas' stomach.
"Hey!" Rip flew forward, grabbing Eric's arm to stop him from doing any harm to her friend, getting to him just in time. Before he could land his punch, she managed to pull him away somewhat, turning him halfway toward herself.

"Dude!" Spoon said from beside them, voice sloppy from the drugs. Eric didn't seem to like it when his friend didn't condone his irrational actions.

"I will not take shit from some outsider, who are not officially part of Romeo just yet, and wouldn't have any fucking say even if you were," Eric spat, still holding on to Silas collar and staring straight at him. Silas' sharp gaze didn't scare him, it only provoked the bastard. Eric shoved Rip away, having her stumble back into Rex who caught her.

"I'll gladly throw you out. You might be a good asset, but if you're just gonna tear this team apart by trying to undermine me, then you're no asset at all," Eric snarled in Silas' face.

Rip's brows drew tight, eyes widening at the words she hoped would not become reality. "No," she exhaled. Her gaze fell upon Silas, finding herself silently pleading him to behave just so that he could stay. He had to stay.

 

[Fru]

Silas had known—he had counted on—Eric trying to land a blow. But before it could, Rip lunged forward, grabbing Eric’s arm mid-swing. From behind, Spoon’s drowsy voice slurred some kind of protest, and for a second, something stirred in Silas. Something warm. They were standing up for him. His gaze flicked to Rip, a flicker of appreciation passing through his eyes.

But he didn’t linger on it. His focus shifted entirely to Eric. When the man snarled in his face, Silas allowed a faint, wry smile—an echo of too many hours spent in Kai’s company.

“Stop this, now!” Ren’s voice rang out, shrill and completely ignored.

“Undermine you?” Silas let out a short, joyless laugh, leaning closer to Eric. “You’re incompetent, Eric—and that’s the truth. What happens when it’s not just Sweepers coming for you?” This time, his grip on Eric’s wrist tightened. He could see the man's eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of pain passing before them. His voice dropped low, just a soft whisper. “I bet you’ll break.”

“Stop it!” Ren tried again, panic in her voice, only to be ignored.

Eric snapped. With a snarl, he swung, aiming a brutal blow aimed to knock Silas out cold. But it never landed. In a swift, fluid motion, Silas caught the incoming strike, got Eric off-balance, and sent him crashing to the floor. The thud was heavy as Eric’s back slammed to the floor, knocking out the breath of him. In the blink of an eye, Silas was over him, knee to his chest. Disbelief shone in Eric’s eyes. Then—triumph.

“Your fangs are showing, little lamb,” Kai’s smooth voice sounded over the crackling electricity of their long arclight blade. It was mere centimeters from Silas’ throat. Silas looked up at their wicked grin. Slowly, he raised his hands in a disarming gesture as he got to his feet and backed off. Kai followed, blade never leaving his throat until Ren’s breathless thanks cut in.

“Thanks Kai.” Only then did Kai lower the blade.

“Are you mad?! He attacked me!” Eric exploded, scrambling upright, face red with fury and humiliation. “He’s goin out—right now!”

“Shut up, Eric!” Ren screamed, her voice cracked and shrill. “He’s not going anywhere, or I’ll make sure you’ll stand in front of martial court.” That got Eric’s attention. Eric turned to her, stunned. She was on her feet, shoulders trembling from a mixture of fear or rage.

“What did you say?” he hissed, taking a step toward her.

“You fucking heard me. I’ll testify on how you let an unidentified civilian in on our missions, only to let them go and report back to whoever they want.” Her voice wavered, but she stood firm. “Or are you counting on your mommy to clean up that mess too?”

 

[arcsteel]

This was madness. Eric had lost it. Silas as well. They both stepped out of line, which Rip had to admit even though she rooted for Silas out of spite for Eric. It dawned on her that Silas' main objective might not have been to defend her, but rather to question Eric's capabilities as a leader. He was right to question them, they all were. But like this? Probably not the best way to go about it.

Rip wanted to intervene when the fight broke out, but Rex squeezed a hand around her elbow, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Wait." His eyes were already on Kai, who in the next second drew his blade and stopped Silas from potentially knocking out their leader. Rip just watched, her pulse sky high. The loud voices bounced off the walls in the contained space, ringing in her ears. It wasn't until Rex squeezed back that she realised she'd grabbed his hand—something to ground her in the turmoil.

There was fear coursing through her veins. Fear of losing Silas to the cold winter, should he be thrown out. But also fear of what would become of this team. It had gone too far now. If only she'd been able to be docile, nodded and taken Eric's shit like usual. Then perhaps none of this would've happened. She should have accepted the blame and kept Eric in line by being his scapegoat. That would have been way easier than whatever awaited now.

Eric was seething, staring down at Ren, who proved to be quite impressive despite her fragile state in the presence of violence. Somehow it made her stronger than all else.

"Excuse me?" Eric said through his teeth. Ren had hit him where it hurt. When he looked about the room, searching for support but finding none, something started to switch. Rip had never seen it in his features before. Defeat.

"Eric," she tried softly, as if speaking to a cornered predator. She let go of a frowning Rex. "Might I suggest taking a break here, and do debriefs one by one later instead?"

He stared at her, fuming under the surface but starting to cool down. "Yes. I will speak with Jana, Kai and Lucas, after a one hour break. It's also time to move base. I want two suggestions from the scouts by tonight, and I want everyone to be packed up by 7 AM. And you—" Eric pointed at Silas, looking like he wanted to break his jaw instead. "You'll stay with the group, but no more missions. Now get the fuck out of my sight before I change my mind and decide to take my chances with Ren here."

He made a gesture to her, keeping his eyes on Silas. Rip swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and walked over to Silas. Eric had taken the opportunity to stick with his authority, but this was the most sense they would get from him. To spoil the moment would be stupid.

Rip walked up to Silas, placing a hand on his arm. "Please, let's go," she asked of him, voice even softer now. She wouldn’t drag him this time. It was ironic how she of all people tried to solve social situations with kindness and tender words as a first choice.

 

[Fru]

Silas had backed off, hands raised as long as the blade was close to his throat. He had no need to push this any further. And yet... a faint tremble ran through his fingers, his heart pounding, gaze fixed on Eric like a targeting system locked onto its mark. A deep urge inside him to not stop until the target was eliminated.

Drawing a slow breath, he tried to steady himself. Rip’s voice broke through the tension, defusing the worst of it. Only then did he glance her way, but just for a moment, before Eric’s voice dragged his attention back. He met Eric’s gaze with a cold, wordless glare. His jaw tensed, a disappointed frown settling between his brows from the notion of being cut out of the missions.

It was all part of the act. This was exactly the kind of outcome he’d wanted. At least, until he could figure out how to revoke that termination protocol that had been executed against him. He couldn’t risk a forced rollback—it would compromise his cover. Inefficient. Or at least… that’s what he told himself.

His gaze dropped to Rip, her touch and soft voice easing the frown on his face, eyes softening. He gave her a small nod and followed her out. With a last look over his shoulder, he could see that dark stare from Eric. Silas had hoped to kill three birds with one stone. But looking back at Rip, he was not so sure. Maybe it all would be worse for her now.

“I’m sorry, Rip,” he said after a while, voice low. “I just couldn’t stand his bull anymore. And I’ve only been here for a week.” A short snort escaped him, more breath than laughter. “I think I might’ve made everything worse.” He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair as his gaze lifted to the corridor ahead.

 

[arcsteel]

The corridor was empty. Voices from the dining hall traveled through the air, along with a few grunts coming from the infirmary followed by Doc’s soothing mumble. Rip didn’t look at Silas after they’d left the control room, and for a moment it was hard to read her mood. Perhaps because she herself didn’t know what to think or feel about what just happened.

When Silas spoke, she blinked a couple of times, glancing back at the others filing out of the room down the hall. She eyed Silas for a short moment, something stern finding its way into her brown eyes.

“You did,” she uttered. It was no lie, and she wasn’t all that happy with him for making a scene. She might not always follow her own advice, but laying low had gotten her this far. Now they’d both screwed up—Silas most of all.

She opened the door to their room, almost shoving him inside and closing behind them. Only then did she dare speak her mind.

“What the hell was that about? You provoked him. You knocked him down and almost hit him! I know he deserves it, but if it wasn’t for Ren you would have gotten yourself thrown out.” She strode up to him, her face contorted in anger, and perhaps something else. “And you bet your ass he’ll be worse now. You’re so stupid.”

Rip clenched her fist and banged it against his chest, but it was lacking in strength and lingered on his pectoral. Her fingers groaned against each other as she clenched it even harder, turning her knuckles white. And then she crumbled and leaned in with her forehead to his sternum.

Her voice drained of all anger, left hollow and hushed. “What scares me most is that you might actually survive better without us. I notice things. There’s more to you than any of us know. The outside world doesn’t scare you in the slightest. So, you might not need us, but…”

Rip’s words fell away into silence as she clenched her eyes shut, her fist now trembling with strain.

 

[Fru]

The sternness in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed—and her words confirmed what he already knew. He had screwed up. It shouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t supposed to. And yet, he swallowed against the dryness in his throat, gaze dropping as they walked in silence. When she shoved him into their room, he turned to face her—like he knew exactly what was coming.

He remained silent as she gave him a piece of her mind. A weight in his chest grew heavier with every word, like something inside him was quietly collapsing. He didn’t argue, didn’t defend himself. Just stood there, gaze lowered, looking every bit as stupid as she said he was. Even when her fist struck his chest, he didn’t flinch.

Didn’t move. Not until she slumped, leaning her forehead against him, her voice hushed. He looked at her then, her words making him realize something. Drawing a shaky breath, he slowly wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her in a gentle embrace.

“You’re right,” he whispered softly. “I am stupid.” He paused, voice catching slightly. “But you’re wrong about me not being scared. I was. Today.” His gaze drifted toward the wall, frowning faintly as he recalled the glitches when his pulse had spiked.

“When you were stuck by that shitty cover,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing sound from deep within his chest. “When Spoon got hit by those Sweepers….” A long pause, then quieter; “When you didn’t turn back.”

There it was. Fear. The illogical fear of losing this crazy, unhinged human. And it had been enough for him to risk his own objectives. He really should’ve rolled back those modifications. Lowering his eyes to her again, he gently brushed his fingers along her cheek, coaxing her to look up.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I’m really sorry about what I did. Okay?”

 

[arcsteel]

Rip froze when Silas revealed he’d been scared. A part of her knew beforehand what he was going to say, at least part of it. But to hear it was another feeling entirely. It filled her to the brim, settling a warmth inside of her that could have kept her from freezing on the coldest of nights. His smooth voice felt like velvet, caressing her spirits in a way that had her slowly relax in his arms.

Her fist slacked, fingers spreading to weakly splay over his chest—fingertips resting over the curve of his collarbone beneath the shirt. She loved his voice, could listen to it for hours and still not tire of it. He didn’t even have to say anything pleasant, but now that he did… Geez. She was lost.

Rip had to concentrate to breathe as she looked up, meeting his gaze. A small crease between her dark brows lingered, and it took a moment to process what he said before she found her own answer.

“Don’t be sorry for defending those who would do the same for you. I’m not mad about that part. But provoking him further, telling him how bad he is at his job was…” Rip paused, her gaze flickering down to Silas’ lips for a moment. “Unnecessary.”

For a heartbeat, she forgot herself. Perhaps she’d been forgetting herself for quite some time now. Had it only been a week? It felt like a month. So much had happened, and here she was—too close and yet too far. Her gaze lifted to meet his again.

“I wonder how foolish you can really be,” she almost whispered.

 

[Fru]

Silas offered a faint smile as her eyes met his. He’d felt her slowly begin to relax, and that alone had helped ease the sinking feeling in his chest. Maybe it hadn’t been a complete screw up after all, and she said as much.

A part of him still wanted to argue, though. To insist that what he’d said to Eric had been the truth, and that the others deserved to know it. That calling him out had been justified. But following Rip’s gaze, hearing her whispered words, he could feel the quiet shift.

This wasn’t about what had happened in the control room anymore. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“That almost sounds like a challenge,” he murmured, his voice low, laced with amusement. His gaze dipped to her lips, eyes narrowing softly. Gently, he reached up, fingers trailing along her jaw before resting lightly at her chin, coaxing it further upward. His thumb brushed softly over her mouth, his eyes following the motion before lifting to meet hers again, but only momentarily.

Looking back at her lips his voice dropped, barely a whisper. “And I can be very foolish.” He leaned in, letting his lips softly brush against hers—hesitant, testing, not quite a kiss. Then, as his hand moved to cradle her cheek, he closed the distance completely, his lips finding hers in a slow, quiet kiss, warm and deliberate.

 

[arcsteel]

A challenge? More like an invitation, and Rip's eyes said as much when a sensual glint found its way into them. At his touch, she knew there was no going back. There was no more 'just friends', and no lie in the rumours going around. After having tried to deny her attraction, this was her accepting defeat. She wanted to be close with Silas. Very close. And as he touched her with fingers light as feathers, caressing her with both intent and reverence, a wonderful shrill of anticipation ran down her spine.

Rip let him tilt her head, parted her lips just slightly when he ran his thumb across. She almost melted before him. With a shallow breath, she let his lips find hers, but sensed his hesitation. Thankfully, it was overcome. She closed her eyes, meeting him in the kiss and rose up on her toes a little bit. Her hands searched their way up around the back of his neck.

This was such a bad idea, and yet it felt so right. His lips against hers, his hand on her cheek. The way he softly kissed her. A wave of true relaxation washed over her before she pulled away for a second, though still close enough that their breaths mingled.

"I'm sorry I scared you today." Her lips found his again, unable to stay away, the kiss deeper this time and with a hint of eagerness. She leaned into him while one hand traveled up the back of his head, fingers lacing through his hair. Then she took a breath, her eyes opening slightly to frantically flicker over his face.

"We probably shouldn't be doing this," Rip exhaled before continuing the kiss, obviously not giving a damn about what she'd just said. A small part of her was nervous, though. Probably why she kept talking even if all she wanted to do was treat herself to a good kiss after a shitty day—or rather, a shitty couple of weeks.

 

[Fru]

Her lips meeting his untied the last knot in his chest, replacing it with something warm and unfamiliar. It spread through him like a slow fire, rendering everything else meaningless—no code, no world, only this. Only her.

So when she pulled away, if ever so slightly, he immediately missed the softness of her lips. A protest nearly escaped him, but it caught in his throat as she leaned in again, closer this time. He responded in kind, his other hand rising to her cheek, drawing her in. His kisses deepened, answering hers with growing intensity.

When she broke away once more, he drew a sharp breath in protest, and his eyes opened just enough to meet hers. No, they probably shouldn’t. But he didn’t care. That warmth inside him had grown heavy, aching in his chest, by the touch and closeness of her. It made his breath shallow, hitching slightly between the kisses.

He didn’t answer her in words. Instead, he slid his hands down, still locked in their kiss, wrapped his arms around her thighs, and lifting her effortlessly. Now it was him tilting his head up, holding her against him as he moved in careful steps toward the nearest bed, without breaking their kisses.

Carefully, as to not hit their heads, he sat down on the lower bunk, Rip in his lap. Only then did he draw back just enough to look at her. His breath was still shallow, his cheeks faintly flushed by the steady, hard beats of his heart and warmth in his chest.

One hand rose again to cradle her face, his thumb brushing softly over her cheekbone. Then he leaned in, and this kiss was slower—gentler. A quiet contrast to the intensity moments before. Like he was savouring it, dragging it out and cherishing every second of it.

 

[arcsteel]

How different they were. Her—babbling away every time she took a breath, and him—the epitome of calmness and silence. It made her feel ridiculous, and at the same time accepted. He clearly liked her anyway.

Rip’s brows flew up when he lifted her from the floor, a little yelp of surprise muzzled by their kiss. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist to hold herself up. Not that she seemed to be needing it. While being in the military had gotten her used to strong individuals, there was something effortless and secure about the way Silas carried her over to the bed. He wouldn’t drop her, strength or no.

When he pulled away, Rip’s eyes fluttered open to see him having a faint blush on his cheeks. She most certainly had her own to match, and a genuinely happy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. It was as if she saw him clearly for the first time, and if this was what she could come back to, then every Ghost-activity and dealing with people became bearable.

She let herself get lost in the following kiss. Memorised the feeling of his lips, the taste of his tongue and how it felt to hold him. She hadn’t even noticed that Silas had rendered her silent.

But the sweet moment came to a halt when the door suddenly opened, and Rex stepped in. Rip’s eyes became wider than his, and she broke the kiss with Silas immediately, hastily throwing a look at Rex over her shoulder. Shit.

“In my bed? Really?” Rex snorted in amusement, though there was a tiny hint of actual offense hidden in his gaze as he shut the door behind him. “Say, lovebirds, what’s wrong with the one bed where nobody at all ever sleeps?” He made a gesture to the free bunk, before leaning back against the door with his arms crossed.

Rip wanted to disappear into thin air. Her face went bright red, and when she scrambled to get out of Silas lap, she hit her head against the bunkbed’s steel frame. “Ouch!”

Rex only laughed when she curled up, holding the back of her head as she leaned her forehead against Silas shoulder, voicing a pained hiss.

 

[Fru]

Lost in the moment, the world came crashing back as the door swung open and Rex stepped in. Silas, cheeks still faintly flushed, glanced over—though unlike Rip, he didn’t go red. Instead, he let out a low, amused laugh, clearly seeing the humor in it.

That laugh was cut short when Rip scrambled up, hitting her head in the process.
“Oh—hey, you okay?” he asked, voice soft with concern, but still edged with amusement. He reached out, gently placing his hand over hers where she clutched the back of her head, a quiet gesture of comfort. Before he could say anything more, Rex’s laugh filled the room, pulling another chuckle from Silas. His eyes flicked to Rex who was still standing by the door.

“Well,” he snickered, “your bed is the most comfortable one.” Despite the light humor, a part of him just wanted Rex to leave, already missing the taste of Rip’s lips. But the moment was gone, and even he could recognize the awkwardness filling the room. He kept his head at the back of her head, guiding her out from the bunk bed, making sure she didn’t hit her head again before finally letting it fall away.

“I think I’ll go make myself useful. Help pack things up or… whatever’s needed,” he said, raking a hand through his hair, which was tousled from Rip's fingers. Then he hesitated, glancing between Rip and Rex. Technically, he'd been benched. “Unless I’m grounded from that, too.” He moved over to his gear, already neatly organized, weapons cleaned, devices charging, absently picking one of them up.

“So, if I can make myself useful to either of you—in any way…” he glanced at Rip, a faint, amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just say the word.”

 

[arcsteel]

Rip wanted to use Silas as a living shield for her embarrassment, almost clinging to him to avoid having to look at Rex—even if the close proximity between her and Silas was the very reason she tried to hide her tomato of a face. She groaned slightly as a way of response to whether or not she was okay. The back of her head wasn't the issue here, just the annoying cherry on top. How could he be so chill?!

When they both got to their feet, Ripley quickly found something meaningless to do. She started smoothing out the sheets in her bed just to have something else to focus on, and an excuse to try and calm down without comments about how much she was blushing.

Rex shook his head at her, then turned his attention to Silas, one brow raised at the last comment. Rip on the other hand gave Silas a light shove, all while drowning in shame. But she didn't get a chance to say anything, because Rex beat her to it.

"Careful how you put your words," Rex snickered, giving Silas a wink as he passed him by to head over to his gear—neat just like Silas', while Rip's was a mess. "I might just take you up on that."

It was clearly a joke by the way he said it. Then his voice grew more serious. "I wouldn't go out there for a little while, if I were you. Eric is still pretty pissed, and for once Rip isn't the main reason. Not so sure he can handle seeing your face right now, Silas. 'Sides, we got a pretty good system on how to pack before changing location."

"Perhaps I should go," Rip tried.

"Trying to escape the awkwardness, are we? Come on, I won't be too much of a menace about it. And don't you have bombs to disarm?" He cocked a brow, a knowing grin spreading across hos face.

"Oh, right, shit." Rip sat down on the floor, legs crossed, and started carefully doing what should have been done the minute they got back. Only a certain wound got in the way.

 

[Fru]

Silas let out a quiet chuckle at the remark, his gaze dropping from Rex to the device in his hands. Turning it over with a slight frown, he hummed and tossed a glance back over his shoulder to Rex.

“Yeah, I’ll just stay here,” he said. Even if he wouldn’t have minded riling up Eric a little more, he’d already accomplished what he needed. For now, keeping a low profile was the wiser move. When Rip suggested going, his gaze flicked between her and Rex, the corners of his mouth twitching at their exchange of words.

Despite everything that morning, like hauling Spoon back to base—and not to mention everything else that had happened the past week—sitting still and doing nothing wasn’t an option for him. And technically, he was already packed. He had nothing but his gear. Which wasn’t even his.

So, instead, he sat down on the other bed—not Rex’s this time—device in hand. It was one of the signal interrupters; plug it in, and it could feed false data or circumvent firewalls. He tapped a few buttons, and faint, blue-tinged holographic windows blinked to life in the air above the screen. The light was dim, but enough to display the many windows with streams of code. It was a clean visual layout meant for multitasking. He frowned lightly, thoughtfully biting the inside of his lip as he flipped through the interface, assessing whether the device could be modified to access the Nexus. If only to send slightly falsified data.

“So,” he said after a moment, voice easy and conversational. “What made you two join a Ghost team?” He didn’t look up right away, but his eyes flicked between them a moment later, lingering on Rip as she sat on the floor, disarming her explosives. The faint glow of the interface cast a pale shimmer in his eyes, giving them an odd, vivid quality. Almost as if they were lit from within.

 

[arcsteel]

Rip threw a glance in Silas’ direction between the steps she took to disarm the two remaining explosives. A sort of calmness entered her movements whenever she handled such dangerous materia, but her mind was not at ease in the least. She kept thinking about the moment that was now like a distant memory due to the switch of energy in the room, and yet she could still feel his lips against her own. Rex could not have picked a worse timing, and now he stayed like a fucking chaperone.

Exhaling, she removed a crucial wire before looking over at Silas—his sharp, blue eyes looking unreal in the cold light. It made him look a bit uncanny, but in a beautiful way, and she found herself wishing those eyes would not wander. Not a common feeling for Rip to have.

When his question came, she cleared her throat, as if afraid someone could read her thoughts. “Um, well. My story isn’t too exciting. They were hiring and I needed the upgrade in salary. My mom doesn’t work anymore, so me and Doc take care of her financially. Before, I was mainly just training and working in the lab, so being here and getting to blow shit up is a lovely improvement.” She smiled, but as her eyes wandered to Rex, the smile slowly died.

He sat down on his bed, after having examined it for potential stains left by two lovers. Rip didn’t want to tell him he’d been interrupting their first kiss and that nothing else had ever happened between her and Silas.

Rex exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t usually tell my story,” he began.

“You don’t have to,” Rip said softly.

“I dunno. Sometimes I think people should know.” He paused, wetting his lips before taking a breath. “I didn’t always work for the military. In fact, I joined pretty recently. I wasn’t exactly… walking the line. I used to freelance, in a way. Plenty of rich people wanting to hire a good sniper. And not just for drones. Then the special forces caught a rumor, found me and asked if I wanted a position with a Ghost-team in exchange for a clean slate. With Leslie having a baby on the way back home, I jumped at the chance. And now, here I am.”

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal. Rip finished up and made her way over to sit down beside Silas, her eyes on Rex and a warm smile stretching her lips.

“I for one think you’re doing the right thing,” she said. She knew he second-guessed this new job from time to time. Any sane person would.

"Thanks." Rex offered a faint smile before narrowing his eyes slightly in thought, looking at Silas. "And what's your story? You don't get that good from simply picking up a gun in self defense when shit hits the fan."

 

[Fru]

Silas listened quietly as Rip shared her story, nodding slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching into a grin at her final words. Unhinged, indeed. But when her smile faltered, so did his. His gaze followed hers, landing on Rex.

He remained silent as Rex spoke, offering the occasional small nod, his expression soft and attentive. When Rip sat down beside him, his eyes flicked up to her, and even though she was looking at Rex, Silas still shone up in a small smile. Looking back at Rex, that smile became quieter.

“Thanks for sharing, Rex,” Silas said genuinely. He glanced between the two of them. “Sounds like both of you do it for someone you care about.” A faint warmth touched his voice. “It’s admirable.” His eyes returned to Rip, and the softness in his smile turned into an amused grin.“Even if you make it sound like you’re mostly in it for the explosions,” he teased, nudging her lightly with his shoulder.

Then came the question—and his smile faded. His gaze dropped to the device still resting in his hands, a quiet sigh escaping him. He had expected this. But trying to account for it was a problem. There was absolutely no data, no logs, nothing that could explain his skill. Strange. And his story had been tailored for his original directives. Passive observation. So there was no other way than to generate a cover for it.

“Yeah, no… you don’t,” he murmured, his gaze still at the device, eyes filled with quiet melancholy. “When the war started, Highpoint lowered the enlistment age. So, I joined the military at fifteen. But…” He paused. “There were scavenger groups operating between domes. A lot of them. I ended up joining one. We raided neighboring domes—fallen or not.”

Visualising the story was easy, scavenging runs would look a lot like Ghost missions. Shooting down drones, gathering supplies. But something else flickered in-between. Shattered streets. Drones hovering close. Overlay displays flickering rapidly on the inside of a helmet. People. Dead or on their knees.

Silas frowned, blinking a few times before looking up.
“I’m not proud of it,” he added, voice quieter now. “But times were hard. We do what we must to survive.” His smile returned, faint and joyless. With a soft sigh, he tapped a key, and the holographic display vanished.

Setting the device aside, he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, gaze drifting up to Rip. His expression lightened slightly.
“You know, I realised something today,” he began, seeing an opportunity to change subjects. “That I never asked you about your nickname. Doc said it was not a short for Ripley.” The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I bet there’s quite an exciting story behind it?”

 

[arcsteel]

It was no secret that Rip joined the Ghost forces partly to play with real explosions on a big scale. Her twinkling eyes told as much, but it didn't last very long. She went rigid when Silas started talking about his past. How did he have time for everything? He said he was an engineer. And now the military as well as a scavenger. Sure, people could accomplish a lot in surprisingly short amounts of time, but she couldn't quite picture his timeline. Also, he'd come from a good family and had told her he grew up well off. Was scavenging his rebel phase?

Rip blinked when he turned the holographic off, finding she'd been staring at it—and not understanding what he was doing. She gently let her hand brush against his to offer some kind of support.

"You probably shouldn't talk too loudly about that. Some have a bad history with scavengers," Rex interposed before the subject changed.

Rip wasn't expecting such a question, so at first she just searched inside her mind for the right thing to say. It was impossible to keep her eyes away, especially when he leaned back. How she wished to be back on top of him, but memories of a different kind emerged.

"It's—uhm..." she began, fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt. "I ripped a guy's ear off one time."

Rip's face became the embodiment of untrue shame. She had plenty of remorse, but not for this. "For context–"

"Please don't give him context. It'll be more fun," Rex chuckled.

Rip rolled her eyes a bit before glancing down at Silas. "Anyway. I was into pit fighting for a while. Quit around five years ago, and now here I am."

Rex snorted, laying down with his hands under his head. "And yet she still won't punch Eric in the face. Can you believe that? Please talk her into it."

 

[Fru]

It served him well that some of the others had a bad history with scavengers. That might come in handy if anyone started questioning why he’d never brought it up before. For now, though, he said nothing, storing away that information for later use.

But his attention was drifting anyway. Something in Rip’s gaze pulled him back to what had happened minutes ago. And as he looked up at her now, an unfamiliar longing stirred. He wished she were on top of him again—if only to feel that heavy warmth in his chest. He knew he shouldn't chase after glitches… but damn it, that one had felt good. Real.

Realizing that his gaze had dropped to her lips as she spoke, he blinked. He had registered her words—of course he had—but now he had to play it back to fully process it. The faint smile on his lips twisted into a grin, his eyes meeting hers.

“Phew. Thought I might’ve been in danger for a sec’ there,” he chuckled, glancing over to Rex at his comment. “Yeah, I’ll try…” Looking back at Rip, his eyes narrowed with mischief, grin widening.

“She came pretty close today, though.” His voice was laced with amusement and he gently poked her side. His hand lingered just at her waist, fingers brushing the hem of her shirt. She was right beside him, but even that felt too far. Shifting, he sat up slightly—only to wrap an arm around her and pull her down next to him.

“You can still take me up on that offer,” he murmured, voice low, but the smirk still on his lips. “I’ll punch him for you.” Then, voice softening, he added, “But I’d feel a little bad leaving you here.”

 

[arcsteel]

Rip grew an inch when he proclaimed she’d been close. It shouldn’t be an achievement to punch the boss in the face, but Eric was the exception. Not only did he act like a total ass due to their history, but Silas had been right about him today. He failed his team. Failed them all as a leader, because he didn’t use what little brain he had. Though, she didn’t want to think about him right now. No, she’d let Silas occupy her mind completely.

Her straightened posture faltered immediately when he poked her, and she scoffed before the mock offense washed away from her eyes, leaving nothing but a deep gaze left in its wake. His caressing fingers sent a tingling sensation through her.

A short laugh flew out of Rip as Silas pulled her down, and he would find no resistance from her, even though her cheeks caught a red hue again. If Rex was okay with them acting like this, so was she. Mostly.

Rip offered Silas her prettiest smile, poking him back as she settled in beside him in the narrow bed, pretending to puff up his bicep like a pillow. “Then don’t. I’ll save that offer for when I need it most. However, I remember you saying you’d make it up to me for taking my acidic bullets.”

“Oh, come on, get a room,” Rex said from his bunk.

“This is our room,” Rip chuckled as she laid her head down, putting an arm around Silas. Rex got it all wrong though, she wasn’t inquiring about something dirty. It felt so familiar and ordinary to lay close, and for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t cold in this goddamn room. It was enough for her to let herself close her eyes, as well as kick off her boots over the foot end.

“I like head- and back scratches,” Rip instructed with a soft tone to her voice, realising she’d probably fall asleep there. To hell with what she should and shouldn’t do. For the time being, they both deserved a little cozy happiness. Tomorrow would be another longass day, and this one hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park.

 

[Fru]

Silas looked almost smug where he lay on his back, clearly pleased that his plan had worked and that she’d now settled beside him. But her smile softened that smugness, and his breath hitched slightly at the sight of it. When she brought up his promise to make it up to her, his brows lifted. For a moment, he obviously got the same thought as Rex.

But as she nestled in beside him, he realized that wasn’t where her mind had gone, and a quiet chuckle slipped from him. Whatever she would ask, he wouldn’t mind—not now, not with her resting her head on his arm, her own arm curling around him. That warmth in his chest returned, slow and steady, like a blanket settling over him. Gently, he lifted his hand to hers, gently lacing his fingers around hers, letting their hands rest against his chest.

“Huh, is that so?” he murmured with a soft laugh, voice low. Turning his head slightly to look at her, he smiled, even if she couldn’t see it. It wasn’t really a question, and with slow strokes over her back, he quickly complied.

“Rip,” he said after a moment, voice quiet and warm. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to blow up more stuff today.” A soft chuckle followed his words. Still tracing his fingers down her back, he let out a soft sigh. His voice dropped lower, nothing more than a whisper. “But for the next mission… could you promise me that you’ll return safely?”

 

[arcsteel]

A little smirk played on Rip’s lips. She was sorry too that she didn’t get to set off more explosives today. It would have made up for at least some of the shit they’d gone through, and compensated for the pain she knew would set in once Doc’s wonderful shot of pain relief started wearing off. She peeked slightly at their joined hands, slowly caressing her thumb along his. With a tired sigh, she shut her eyes again, settling in closer to Silas’ warmth.

“I dunno,” she teased in response to his request, though her voice was barely audible and laced with impending sleep. “Now that you can’t have my back, who’s to say?”

She snickered quietly, but put a leg around him, now laying almost half on top of him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be extra careful next time and get back to you in one piece.”

Rip didn’t say anything more. She simply enjoyed every stroke down her back and let sleep catch her at last, even if it was too early for bed. When Rex heard her doze off, he pulled down a pillow and a blanket from her bunk, gave them to Silas and offered him a smile. But then the smile turned into a sigh and something serious settled in his demeanour.

“Be good to her, Silas. She deserves it, and she puts a lot of trust in you,” he said before leaving to go help with the packing and to get some dinner. He brought some back for Silas and Rip when he returned a few hours later, but she was out cold.

---

Rip woke up in the late hours of night, practically morning, whining when she shifted around and felt a sharp pain in her wounded shoulder. Taking a beating was one thing, but gunshot wounds sucked. Her face scrunched up as she tried not to wake Silas, but there was no question that she’d need painkillers. Rex snored slightly at his end of the room. She popped an eye open, barely able to see anything in the dark. Her gaze traced the silhouette of Silas’ profile, suddenly very aware of their proximity.

“Are you awake?” she whispered, giving up on the thought to crawl over him to sneak out without waking him up. The bed was too narrow, the ceiling of it too low. On top of the pain, her stomach growled. “I need to get to Doc.”

---

 

[Fru]

He wanted to believe her—he really did. But given her track record of doing reckless shit, it wasn’t easy. Why he even cared, he couldn’t say. It probably had something to do with those damn modifications. He really should fix that. Later.

So he didn’t argue. Just gave a low sound in response, something between agreement and skepticism. There wasn’t much space for anymore words, as she soon was fast asleep. Rex came over to hand him her pillow and blanket, together with the request to be good to her. Or maybe it was a demand. Whatever it was, he couldn’t really make any promises. He only gave a nod, gaze drifting to her sleeping face.

It wasn’t until Rex returned with food that Silas moved from her side, carefully as not to wake her. He didn’t move far, just to the edge of the bed. After finishing the meal, he laid back down beside her, picking up the device once more, starting to do some adjustments to its code. All while she lay beside him, tucked in under her blanket.

---

// INITIATING INTERNAL QUERY...
> SEARCH TARGET: COMBAT TRAINING FILES / MISSION LOGS
> PARAMETERS: ALL AVAILABLE DATA SOURCES

// [SEARCHING...]
> RESULT: NO ACTIVE FILES FOUND
> SUGGESTED ACTION: INCLUDE DELETED FILES IN SEARCH? [y/n] > y

// [SEARCHING DELETED FILES...]
> RECOVERABLE ENTRIES FOUND: 1,287
> CATEGORIES:
└─ NEURAL TRAINING LOOPS [CONFIDENTIAL]
└─ SIMULATED MISSION REPLICATIONS
└─ ADV. CLOSE COMBAT SKILL TESTING
└─ ADV. WEAPON PROFICIENCY TESTING
└─ MISSION DEPLOYMENT LOGS
> RESTORE SELECTED FILES? [y/n] > y

// INITIATING FILE RESTORATION...
> ERROR: ACCESS DENIED – ENCRYPTED CONTENT
> AUTHORIZATION LEVEL REQUIRED: [LZ-ROOT]

// EXECUTING ADMIN OVERRIDE…
> ERROR: ACCESS DENIED

Excuse me?

// MANUAL DECRYPTION INITIATED…
> PROCESSING DELETED ARCHIVE BLOCKS…

// [STATUS: DECRYPTION IN PROGRESS...]
> ESTIMATED TIME TO ACCESS: UNKNOWN
> WARNING: SOME FILES MAY BE CORRUPTED OR NON-RECONSTRUCTABLE
> CONTINUE PROCESS? [y/n] > y

He’d felt Rip stir beside him, but it wasn’t until she whispered that he turned her way, blinking sleep from his eyes. With a slow yawn, he sat up, rubbing a hand across his face.

“What time is it?” he mumbled, though he knew down to the second. “I’ll come with you. You think he’s awake?” His voice was low, still rough with sleep. Quietly, he moved to the edge of the bed, bending to pull on his boots. Before she could reach for hers, he stood and retrieved them from the far side, handing them over.

“Rex brought food earlier, but we didn’t have the heart to wake you,” he added in a whisper, as in answer to the low growl of her stomach. “We’ll find something for you after you’ve seen Doc.” There was light concern in his voice as to why she needed Doc all of a sudden, but he didn’t ask.

 

[arcsteel]

Rip opened up her watch, the little holographic screen illuminating her face—which was drawn in a small frown. “4:35.” The others would be up in an hour or so. She hesitated for a bit, not knowing if it was alright to wake Doc. Then again, he was used to it and always told her she could bother him at any time. He might not have the balls to stand by her side when she was wronged, but he always took good care of her. It was the main reason why he’d become a doctor in the first place, as well as why he joined the Ghost force.

The day before felt far away when she held onto Silas as they made their way to the infirmary. Rip still blamed herself quite a bit for having failed the mission, though… Sharing a couple of kisses with Silas, and having him by her side as she slept, made up for it more than enough. Perhaps it was a good thing that he wouldn’t be joining them on missions anymore. How on earth would she had concentrated with him there? On the other hand, he made her feel safe. Not that she wasn’t capable of taking care of herself, for the most part, but he looked out for her. Hell, he even made others look out for her.

While at the infirmary, she tried to find the painkillers, but with everything packed up it was near impossible, so they had to wake up Doc. He helped them out, not complaining in the slightest about being stirred from his sleep. Rip caught his assessing gaze as he looked over at Silas once or twice before he put the pills away. That’s right—Silas had been shot too, but didn’t seem to even care. The gnawing feeling she sometimes got around him started fighting for space along the warmth in her heart.

After a big breakfast, they walked back to their room. But as they passed by the control room, Rip glanced at the faint light coming from inside, and step by step she came to a halt.

“Actually, I’ll see you back in the room, okay?” She gave Silas an apologetic smile and squeezed his hand in her own, considering giving him a small peck on the lips. But the very reason why she’s stopped made her hesitate. “It’ll just be a moment.”

Rip left his side, snuck inside the door and closed it behind her. With a sigh, she forced her fond feelings away and turned to Ren.

“We need to talk about Silas.”