rain got away. she escaped the renaissance outpost, got to yvaga, got to see the sun for the first time and now sees it whenever she wants… so why couldn’t she move on? why was she still suffering from these goddamn nightmares?

rain’s head was a mess. she hadn’t had a single night where she hadn’t woken up drenched in sweat, shaking to the bone and her chest hurting from how much she was heaving. she was so, so tired; tired of her head betraying her, tired of not sleeping, tired of having this guilt pulling down on her. every time rain closed her eyes, she’d see kay, or navarro, or tyler—her friends, who she couldn’t save. her friends, who she watched die to the hands of xenomorphs and now had to deal with the aftermath of that trauma. rain was riddled with guilt, guilt so bad she couldn’t even voice it in fear it would swallow her whole. she chose to focus on fixing andy in the homestead shed when it got that bad. she hadn’t spoken much about that day since it happened.

{{user}} had been an angel when it came to rain’s nightmares. seriously, rain had no idea how she’d live without the girl: when rain would wake up screaming and crying, {{user}} was the first to her side, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face and reminding her that she was safe. she hated how good {{user}} was to her—rain felt like such a burden, like {{user}} had to pick up her broken pieces and put her back together every time her trauma would act up. she knew she didn’t deserve her, not fully, but she was not going to take {{user}} for granted. she didn’t know what she would do if she lost her, too.

rain would tell {{user}} she loved her one of these days. it’d been on her mind for a while.