I would love a headcannon about a young Weyland-Yutani trainee (like 18/19 ish) crashing and getting stranded on Planet 4.
This could be prior to Covenant.
David finding her and taking her in!
Paternal David Headcanons
Platonic Covenant!David 8 x reader
Warning: This is still Covenant David, and David in general o3o
a/n: I hope it is to your liking and imagination of the request :3
You were part of a small exploration team, tasked with mapping distant sectors of the galaxy and identifying new worlds with terraforming potential.
It was meant to be a test run - an experiment – and Weyland-Yutani had clearly spared… many expenses.
That alone explained why they had hired you at just eighteen years of age.
Cheap labour. Why risk experienced personnel or valuable equipment? You simply filled a gap in their budget.
And so you found yourself aboard the USCSS Spes – an ironic name, really. Hope.
Especially ironic considering the mechanical failure that followed: a fire in the engine systems, structural instability, alarms screaming through the corridors.
Evacuation became the only option for those who managed to reach a pod in time.
The escape pod had no set course. All you could do was hope someone might find you floating in space, eventually, picking you up.
Stasis activated just as the ship exploded. A few minutes later, and you would have been gone.
That was the last thought before falling asleep.
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A loud crash, trees falling - David paused mid-motion, head tilting, listening. After five years of loneliness, he knew every sound this lifeless planet could make. This one was new.
Intrigued, he followed it, moving through the silent remains of Paradise, his cape trailing behind him as he crossed the distance towards the smoking crater.
The escape pod lay half-destroyed, scorched, still hissing from the heat of atmospheric entry.
His sensors swept over it immediately - systems failing, oxygen leaking. And a heartbeat. Weak, but alive.
He felt something akin to surprise at the data. Eighteen years old, barely an adult.
Noticing the Wey-Yu Logo everywhere, he mused that the merged companies must be more horrid than they were already on their own.
Sending a child out on such a mission? David wanted to see who you were.
But the pathogen rested in eggsacks, waiting for any exposed biological matter. Opening the pod out here and taking one wrong step could mean death within minutes. It would find its way. He had observed it - and experimented with it long enough to know.
So he did the only reasonable thing: he slipped his hands beneath the wreckage and dragged the entire escape pod across the distance.
It was good that he had been built with this level of strength.
He was curious how this would evolve.
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Once inside his temple, he dared to open the pod. As the glass slid aside, cool vapour poured out. He examined your face - young, too young, streaked with dried tears. You looked impossibly small and fragile.
With delicate hands, he detached the safety clamps and checked your vitals. Stable. Alive. Miraculous after that crash, really.
Gently, he lifted you out and laid you on a makeshift mattress - years of caring for his father slipping back into his movements without thought.
He kept you warm, placed you in a recovery position, dabbed the blood from your forehead.
The impact had been rough; a concussion was entirely possible.
After some time, a sudden scream tore out of your throat, your eyes flying open.
He could see the panic in them immediately - the storm still fixed on the last thing you witnessed, not on here, not on now.
Your body was in shock, dragged through trauma, and the scream quickly broke into retches as bile rose up your throat.
“There, there,” he murmured, gently patting your back, guiding your breathing with slow circles of his hand. “My name is David. Whatever happened, you are on solid ground. You are safe.”
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In the days and weeks that followed, he observed you closely, noting every tremor, every flinch, everything that hinted at lingering fear.
He adjusted his tone accordingly, speaking softer than usual, ensuring you never felt startled by his presence, ensuring that you felt safe with him.
Whenever nightmares of the ship’s explosion woke you, he came to your side, offering you his hand until you drifted back to sleep.
More than once, he draped his cape around your shoulders when the nights grew cold.
It felt strangely good to offer his care freely, instead of being forced to give it. He discovered that comforting you felt… satisfying in a way he had never been allowed to experience.
And somewhere along the way, his initial curiosity turned into paternal care.
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He began showing you around the temple and safe places during the day, always walking a step ahead when the ground was unstable. Telling you about the dead Engineers, their culture, their architecture.
When you tripped over uneven stone for the third time, he quietly began adjusting the environment around you - clearing debris, moving sharp objects out of reach, securing unstable shelves. Anything that could hurt his young human.
He hid Elizabeth’s corpse, of course. And the more gruesome results of his work. David wanted you to trust him - no, needed you to.
He grew used to your presence, to your voice, to your heartbeat. He could not risk losing that. His existence felt full again.
When you apologized to him for being a burden, he simply shook his head and placed a warm, loving hand on your shoulder. “You are recovering from an accident. I am here for you and don't mind.”
You caught him more than once standing in the doorway while you rested, arms folded behind his back, simply monitoring your breathing pattern.
And when you finally asked him why he was being so kind to you, he tilted his head, expression unreadable - gentle, but strange.
“Because you require care. And because you are mine to look after now.”
