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Erebus stared out the window at the pitch blackness beyond. Aside from a dull, hazy, bluish glow coming from just beyond sight at the front of the ship, there was nothing apparently outside. He was disappointed; he'd been hoping to spot the Costaguana, which he had been told was just half a kilometer away. Under normal physical circumstances, he could have seen it. But, apparently, traveling faster than the speed of light made physics… strange.

The xenomorph was seated in a new room. It reminded him of the mess hall, but it was more ornate. Apparently it was a "lounge". There was a solid wooden table-structure that George had explained was called a "bar", and what he was currently sitting in was a structure called a "booth". He had the "window seat", and George was sitting in the "aisle seat". The window was to the right of Erebus, and he was to the right of the marine.

Across from Erebus sat Thomas. He was staring out the window too, and was also occupying the window seat on his side of the table. Sitting next to him in the aisle seat was Barns.

Barns and George were deep in their own conversation, leaving Erebus and Thomas to their own devices. Which in practice meant them wordlessly staring out the window, since none had anything to really say to the other beyond their greeting an hour before. That was when George had come to get the young scientist from the brig with permission from Meyers, on the condition that he not be allowed to enter restricted areas and be accompanied at all times wherever he went, with the added stipulation that he must return to his cell when George or Barns were no longer able to escort him around.

Erebus had been staring out the window for about four minutes. He had rather been hoping to see the captured enemy ship, the Costaguana, slipping through space alongside them, even though he'd already been told it was impossible due to the physical behavior of light at the speed they were traveling. The explanation hadn't made much sense to him because he didn't have the necessary knowledge about physics, but he'd appreciated it anyway.

He looked around without moving his head, glad for the 360 degree cone of vision that his dome provided for him. As he observed his three companions, he gradually noticed something: Barns and George were positioned in such a way as to trap him and Thomas. They weren't really trapped, if they really wanted they could crawl out any number of ways. But if either of them wanted to exit the booth, they'd have to ask the person sitting next to them.

It was… "insidious". That was one of the words he had learned today, and he was quite glad he had. He liked learning things, and he liked putting that new knowledge to use even more.

Yes, that's what it was: insidious. An insidious entrapment.

Erebus didn't mind this situation; the need to keep Tom where he couldn't run away was obvious, and although he felt pretty sure that George's goal wasn't to trap him per-say, it was probably a calculated placement to keep the other people in the lounge calm. Having George between Erebus and the other people there probably made them feel more comfortable.

Erebus turned his head slowly to face Thomas. He didn't say or do anything, just stared at him wordlessly. Somehow, humans always knew when they were being stared at. Eventually. Sometimes it just took them a while…

Finally the researcher got the hint and his pupils flicked to the corner of his eyes, watching the xeno nervously. He turned his head to face him, a look of trepidation on his face.

George and Barns were still engrossed in their conversation. It was about something called "Star Trek". The same thing they'd been jabbering about all afternoon. In fact, when they'd all gone to retrieve Tom from the brig, the two marine-humans had spent a full two minutes outside of his cell flipping a coin to decide who got to "tell the reference story" to him.

This happened over the objections of Erebus, who argued letting the young man out of a cell he clearly hated was more important than a story.

When they'd finally let the poor man out, they had led him with sealed lips and huge grins up to the lounge, a journey that Thomas had obviously found immensely stressful, as he had no idea where these two men he didn't know very well were leading him, and why they seemed so excited about it. They had then stopped in front of the lounge, and Barns had gotten to explain how the sticky note plastered next to the door which read "Ten Forward" was a reference to Star Trek, and how funny they thought that was.

Thomas had let out a rather relieved "Oh", and quickly smiled and gave a half-hearted laugh, which neither Barns nor George had seemed to notice.

Erebus had felt quite bad for him then. The entire way up to their destination, Thomas had been sweating lightly and sending off moderate amounts of fear hormones that clouded the air around him. They were so thick that Erebus was surprised he could only taste-smell them and not actually see them. He resolved to tell George about it when they were alone again.

And so here they sat, the scientist and the xenomorph, staring at each other as the two oblivious marines continued to jabber on about something that Thomas clearly didn't care about.

The alien slowly raised his hands and rested them on the table, which drew Tom's attention to them. With his left hand, he discreetly pointed at Barns, then George. Then he flattened that hand and set it upright on the table, forming a wall. Then, with his right hand, he pointed at Thomas, and then himself. Setting that hand up upon two fingers, he made it walk a few centimeters across the table and bump into the hand-wall, which blocked it.

Thomas stared for a moment, then he smiled. A real smile, with his lips drawing back just a bit to show his teeth, and a strong huff of breath escaping from his throat.

Erebus did his best to mimic the reaction and smile back, limiting how much of his teeth he showed and being careful to not curl his lips too much.

Pride radiated through the xeno's body; he'd done what George had tried and failed to do, he'd made Thomas laugh!

"What are you guys smiling about over there?" The aforementioned marine was looking at them with a bemused expression.

"Nothing." Thomas lied.

Erebus effortlessly followed his lead "The view is pretty."

George looked outside skeptically, "It's black…"

"With some blue!" The xeno pointed out. He felt a strange thrill in his chest. He was lying; lying to George. And getting away with it! He valued the human's companionship more than anything, but there was something he had with Thomas now too. A different kind of intimacy. They understood each other; two outsides stuck inside.

"If you say so." George smiled, apparently amused by the xenomorph's enthusiasm. "Want to get something to eat?"

"Sure!" The xeno looked to Thomas. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Yeah, sure."

They got up from their table, George picking up Meyers cane, which he'd taken to using to help himself walk, and left the lounge, heading in the direction of the mess hall.

It occurred to Erebus that, for how long he'd been onboard the Hermes, he hadn't really done much. He enjoyed the time he spent with George, and now with Thomas and Barns, but it was beginning to feel dull. Back in the hive there had never been a quiet moment; he and the other drones were either working or fucking in a big pile somewhere.

As the xeno accompanied his companions, he stopped focusing his surroundings for a moment and retreated into his mind to think. George had told him a lot about human society, and he'd learned even more himself through observation. He was aware of the fact that there were large gaps in his knowledge, but that wasn't his concern at the moment. Erebus considered human society, and what he'd learned about it, and concluded that it was rather… reserved. For all their apparent creativity and intelligence, they seemed awfully prone to being bound by rules that the alien thought were silly. They obviously had the ability to keep their living spaces at very comfortable temperatures and atmospheres, as was evident by the ship he was in, and yet even in these spaces they insisted on wearing clothing; multiple layers of it, in fact.

The humans apparently did not like seeing each other naked outside of very specific circumstances. Erebus found this odd; he had never worn clothes and felt very comfortable with others seeing his body. It didn't have anything to do with the ability to hide his genitals within his slit; showing them to other xenomorphs who had an interest in mating with him had never worried him at all. And it was somewhat clear that it was specifically the reproductive organs that humans seemed to dislike having in the open. Erebus had picked that up from context clues when spending time around George back when they were still trapped in the reservoir; how the human had been perfectly willing to take off his shirt, but when it came to the xeno being curious about that was in his pants he had quickly gotten agitated.

So, then, George had apparently told him an untruth earlier, or a partial one at least, when he had said that clothing helped humans regulate their body temperatures and signified social status. When they were inside their structures, humans could regulate the temperature of their surroundings just fine, and there were clearly easier ways to signify social status than by shrouding one's entire body in cloth. So far as Erebus could tell, this obsession with clothing was apparently due to what George had hinted at earlier; that humans and their society were in fact somewhat ashamed of sex, and of their sexual organs themselves. At least some of them were, George, Thomas, and Barns didn't seem or mind being naked or being in the presence of naked people quite so much, but their inhibitions were still apparent in their interactions with each other.

This whole mess was meaningful to Erebus for two reasons. Firstly, it highlighted to him in no uncertain terms just how different human society and xenomorph society was. Whereas xenos would have an orgy at the slightest suggestion, humans seemed, for the most part, very reluctant to even acknowledge that sex was a thing that happened, outside of speaking with close friends or of when they were performing the act itself.

Secondly, and in Erebus's mind more importantly, is showed that George wasn't perfect. It seemed obvious in hindsight, but after his friend's very dramatic breakdown and temporary rejection of the xeno, he had slowly begun to internalize that his human companion wasn't a shining paragon of perfection. He had flaws and he had weaknesses, and he could lash out in moments of irrationality. And now, he had given the xeno what seemed to be false information about why humans acted like they did. It was almost certainly accidental, but still.

The idea that his closest friend, guardian, and teacher in the galaxy could be wrong was a little upsetting for the alien. He couldn't just base his reality solely around George's words anymore, since it was clear that they were fallible. Erebus sighed lightly. It was… unsettling to have to change his view of his friend like this, to make him, as he saw it, less good. To downgrade his opinion of a person he felt so strongly for. He knew it was the correct thing to do in the interest of finding what was true and what wasn't, but that didn't make it less uncomfortable. It had been so easy to just accept whatever George said, even after the human himself had essentially warned him that he wasn't perfect when he talked about not taking it for granted that he and the marines were the good guys. Now Erebus felt less anchored; he didn't have a solid reference point to view reality from. It was a little scary. More than a little, actually.

While he'd been going on this little thought-tangent, he had traversed the ship with his… friends. Yes, that's what they were, friends. His friends. It felt odd to actually think of them like that, but it was true. Anyway, he'd traversed the ship with his friends, and they were now entering the mess-hall. He decided to put his rambling train of reasoning away for now and refocus on the new situation.

The room wasn't deserted this time; there were dozens of people there eating lunch. The room went silent as he and the others entered, a phenomena that he was becoming more and more used to as time went on. He had gone from being just another hive drone to being the center of attention at nearly all times, and he didn't mind, really. He just hoped that eventually people would stop staring.

His long tail dragged behind him limply as he thumped forward behind George, following him to the lunch counter. He mimicked his friend's actions in every way, observing him closely. He picked up his tray with the same swift, semi-bored gesture, placed a bowl on top of it, and filled the bowl with "clam chowder". He knew neither what clams were nor what chowder was, but apparently it was what they were eating today.

Following George over to an empty table, he sat down on the same side as George, and Barns and Thomas sat down opposite them. And then they ate.

***

George glanced over at the xeno sitting next to him. It wasn't immediately clear because of the creature's dome, but he was pretty sure that Erebus was watching him. He shifted how he was holding his spoon, sliding a finger along its length as if adjusting his grip and watched as Erebus did the same a few seconds later.

Yep, definitely watching.

"How are you doing, Erebus?"

"I'm doing well. How are you doing?"

George smiled. "Good."

"You mean 'well'".

"I mean I don't care that much about grammar." George smiled wider, amused.

Erebus smiled back, then continued spooning chowder into his mouth. He looked so… person-like. Despite being tall and pitch-black and a xenomroph, his mannerisms had shifted to much that at times he acted just like a human. Like like right now, as he was peacefully and quietly spooning food into his mouth.

George's feelings about that were… mixed. He was happy that the xeno was fitting in, it would probably make his life easier in the long run. On the other hand, he didn't want to see his friend's personality erased and replaced with… humanity. It was a hard feeling to explain, but George was worried that if Erebus became too human-like, he would stop being… himself.

It was complicated, ok?

Thomas looked up from across the table. "Hey, Erebus, do you ever feel homesick?"

"What's 'homesick'?"

"Do you ever feel that you want to go home really badly?"

"Home? To my hive, you mean?"

Corporal Meyers had decided against nuking the hive when they'd left; since there was no one else on the planet and if the rest of the xenomorphs were as intelligent as Erebus, then he would effectively be committing a war-crime by killing a non-combatant group that had merely been fighting back against a perceived threat to their home. And it wasn't really his place to decide whether the xenomorph hive was "worthy" of living or dying. So they'd left them be and then shipped out.

Thomas nodded.

Erebus was silent for a moment. "Not really. Sometimes, I guess. Less that I want to return home, and more that I want to go back to what is familiar; what I know. But it doesn't last very long. What I knew seems pretty boring when compared to everything I could learn by being here.

"Do you every miss anyone in your hive?"

"No. We didn't have the… language capabilities to really develop complex friendships." Erebus was using bigger and more complicated words now; his English skills having some a long way since having first met George. "There were a few other drones that I was emotionally attached to, but none that I miss, per-say. There was a warrior that I looked after for a while. He was…" Erebus seemed at a loss for words for a moment, "… unhappy after some fighting. He seemed very…" It happened again, "… sad. I kinda miss him. I hope he's ok."

The xeno was quiet for a moment, before returning to his meal, as if nothing had happened.

When they had finished eating, the two marines and Erebus escorted Tom back to his little cell in the bowels of the ship, before Barns excused himself to go attend to his own duties.

As George and Erebus were making their way back up to their room, the xeno started speaking: "Tom was afraid when you were taking him up to the lounge."

"Really?" George was incredulous. "Afraid of what?"

"I don't know, but I could smell it on him. I think he was worried that you and Barns were going to do something bad; we haven't all known each other very long after all."

The marine internally cringed. Looking back, he was pretty sure that he could remember Tom's laugh at the 10-forward joke being a little underwhelming and sheepish. "Shit… I've probably made a fool of myself." His cheeks got warm as he remembered something he'd learned a long time ago about comedy: inside jokes were, by definition, only funny to the people that were in on them. "Thanks for telling me though."

Erebus paused for a moment, before suddenly changing topics: "Remember when I was talking about the… sad warrior?"

"Yeah?"

"The female marine that was with you was a lot like him. Very afraid, very… sad. I don't have the right words for it, I think. The fighting wasn't good for them."

George slowed to a stop, his eyes drifting closed as a frown crossed his face. He breathed in, then let it out in a long sigh. PTSD. That was probably what Erebus was talking about. The warrior-xeno and the female marine probably both had it. Probably. Possibly. Maybe. He wasn't a psychologist, and it was pretty rude to speculate about other people's mental state.

"So, I think what you're talking about is a mental disorder called PTSD; post-traumatic stress disorder." Knowing that Erebus would ask what the words meant, he didn't even pause before explaining: "Post means 'after', so post-traumatic stress disorder is a stress disorder you get after something traumatic happens to you. A disorder, in this case, means a condition that affects your mind in a negative way. In the case of PTSD, the effects are varied between people, but some common symptoms are stress, lingering unpleasant memories, and some other stuff.

"Has-" Erebus started to ask something, then cut himself off and snapped his mouth shut again.

"What?"

"It was a stupid question."

"There is no such thing as a stupid question, only an unnecessary question."

"It was an unnecessary question."

"Well now I'm curious about it, so humor me."

"I was going to ask if the female marine had had a traumatic experience, then I realized why that was an unnecessary question." Erebus tilted his head to stare at the ground. "Now I feel bad, like it's my fault. But it's not my fault." His mouth straightened out into a harsh line as he frowned. "That’s annoying; why do I feel bad for something I didn't do?"

"I don't know." George responded truthfully. "Sometimes I feel like that too. Thanks for telling me about her though, I'll go ask how she is, after I figure out her name…"

***

Her name, as it turned out, was Amelia. George had had to resort to discreetly looking at the crew registry to find it, because he was too embarrassed to admit he had forgotten it. Now he was standing in front of the door to her cabin, wondering what to say and how to say it. He'd left Erebus back in their room, figuring that if the alien attack had given Amelia PTSD, she wouldn't be comfortable with the xeno's presence.

Finally, he just settled in a simple script to stick with, and he knocked on her door. There was silence for several long moments, before he heard a heavy scraping noise, the sound of a lock clicking open. The door swung inward to reveal the inhabitant of the room.

Her buzz-cut was a little unruly, but then, so were his and Barns's. After their little adventure on the base, keeping their hair in order hadn't been a major priority. But her hair was the least of his concerns. There were dark, heavy circles around her eyes; she looked as if she hadn't slept in days. Otherwise she looked alright; her posture was a straight and rigid as ever.

"Hi, Amelia." George smiled, then wondered if he wasn't supposed to smile, but realized that it was too late to turn back and just kept smiling. "So, I haven't seen you around the ship, I was wondering if you were ok."

"I don't think I am, George."

Oh shit, she remembered his name. Now he felt even worse for not remembering hers.

"I think I have PTSD from the xenomorph attack. I've had nightmares about it every night, I can barely sleep. I can't stop thinking about it, wondering if there isn't something I could've done differently. I've heard that your xenomorph… friend is pretty nice, but every time I think about him I get the creepy crawlies. I always ask the bridge if you guys are on deck before I go out. I have nothing against either of you, but I'm worried that if I see Erebus, I think that's his name, I'll have an episode or a breakdown or something. I lock my door and prop it shut with a chair every time I'm in my room because I have this terrible fear that he'll come get me. I can't even shower with the curtain closed anymore, because I'm afraid something will sneak around outside."

"… Oh…" That was a lot of information, a lot faster than he'd thought she'd share it. "I'm really sorry; is there anything I can do?"

"Not unless you can snap your fingers and make the PTSD go away."

"… I can't… do that."

Amelia sighed. "I'm sorry, that was meant to be funny. It's a weird thing to joke about, I probably threw you off."

"No worries, it's fine. Have you told Meyers?"

"Yeah."

"What'd he say?"

"He'll have me evaluated when we get back to Steele."

"Ok." George stood there awkwardly. "Should I let you get some rest? If it makes you feel safer, I can come in and watch over you while you sleep…" He cringed. "I'm sorry, that sounded weird."

"No, you're fine. I appreciate it. I think I'm good though."

"Ok, just let me or Barns know if there's anything we can do, or if you want to hang out sometime. We're… kinda all we have left, now…" The simple act of acknowledging that the rest of the team was gone was painful, but he got through it with only a minor stutter.

"Thank you." Amelia smiled weakly and closed the door, locking it and nosily dragging the chair back into place.

George sighed, then made his way back to his room.

When he got there, he opened the door to find Erebus sitting on the floor, picking at the white plaster on his chest. It had started to crack and peel, and the xeno was picking bits of it off with his nimble fingers. There was already a decent amount of it scattered across the floor.

George could see a thin, dark green scar covering the xeno's midsection where the gash had used to be. It looked harmless enough, but if any of it was at all wet or liquid-y, it could cause serious damage to the ship, not to mention to himself. "Hey, Erebus, are you sure you should be doing that? We don't know if you're fully healed yet."

"I feel fine." The xeno replied nonchalantly, looking up at the human. "It doesn't hurt at all to move anymore. I think I'm mostly healed."

"Can you feel the gash for me; does it feel wet or damp?"

The xeno reached a hand up and rubbed his fingers up and down the scar. "It feels dry to me."

"Ok… I hate to ask, but would you be ok sleeping on the floor for tonight? I trust you, I really do, but I desperately don't want to get hurt if you start bleeding. I can get you an extra set of blankets and pillows and stuff."

"It's ok." The xeno replied, smiling. "I understand. I don't want to hurt you."

"Thanks. You're also going to have to clean up all those little plaster-bits you've scattered everywhere."

"But that'll take forever!"

"You made the mess, you can clean it up." George smirked, prompting Erebus to stick out his tongue playfully. They both laughed, then set about cleaning up.

It didn't take them too long, working together as they were, and once they were done they sat together on the edge of the bed, George leaning his head against Erebus's shoulder. They were silent, once again simply relaxing in each other's company. There was a blissful quality to their duality that both enjoyed; on a very deep level, they trusted each other.

George set his hand on the xeno's thigh, and he responded by setting his own hand on top of the marine's, squeezing it gently. George closed his eyes, and the Hermes raced on towards Steele.