Here's a fanfiction topic I never thought I'd be writing about! But the plot wouldn't leave my mind and then I started getting really into it, and here you go. Based in an AU where Carolyn Fry manages to survive the events at the end of 'Pitch Black', but is left quite alone and only her thoughts of Riddick appear to be keeping her going. (I haven't seen the movie in quite some time, so if there are parts that are off I apologise!)

Implied Fry/Riddick.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Black or anything to do with it, absolutely nothing.

In My Darkest Moments

It was a long time before the inhuman screeches became silent. I can't remember how long I was listening to them. It could have been minutes, hours or even days. Time blurred with the darkness and the constant throbbing of the wound in my back. I had escaped that thing… That thing that had pushed its tail into my skin until it pierced straight through, and had grabbed me in its claws thinking me easy prey. I can't remember much of what happened immediately after that. The darkness took me until I could see nothing. All I could hear were the screeching of monsters so close and so far away that it felt as if that sound was the only thing that existed. I felt the rushing of air on my body and I knew that I was being carried away, though to where and in what direction I wasn't sure.

I vaguely remember feeling weightless before the impact of metal told me I had been dropped on what was left of my ship. The screeches now above me were loud and intense, and I was dimly aware of the wetness on my shoulders that I knew was not my own blood. If I was still connected to my body I'm sure I might've managed a bitter laugh, but as it was, I was still in a strange state of numb disbelief and every movement didn't even feel like it was my own. They were fighting over me. The creatures had fought over me in the air, pulled me from my captor's grasp and I'd fallen. The very hunger that had threatened us all had given me my chance to live. I knew I didn't have long before one broke away from the fight to pick me off.

I'm not sure how I made it into the ship, with blood running down my back and shivers shaking my frame so badly I could barely stand. At least the pain of my wound and my blind terror kept the impact of my fall from registering. It was only later that I realised how lucky I was that the creature had tried to carry me away before killing me, and that the others had not only wrestled me from its grasp but had dropped me, and I had fallen on the wreckage of the ship.

The world was still darkness, but feeling was beginning to return and my memory of the ship allowed me to get inside the shelter without too much trouble. I stumbled once inside and heard the sound of my fall more than I felt it, but pain lanced through my stomach and I bit back a yell of pain. I knew there was no blood on my front, so the tail hadn't gone straight through, but it had obviously gone pretty deep. With great difficulty I heaved myself to my feet, and pushed back my blonde hair from my forehead that was caked in sweat and dirt. I knew they could smell the blood. I could hear their screeches echoing through the metal, and they were loud and close. I had to disguise my scent somehow. Only one or two of those things could get in such a narrow space at the same time, and if they couldn't see me or smell me there was a chance I could survive. At the time I didn't give what would happen after the immediate danger a thought, not bleeding or starving to death wasn't registering yet. My knowledge of the ship prior to its crash had me think that the cargo hold was the safest place to hide, as it had only once entrance. Of course this meant that if anything got in there would be no escape. Not dwelling on that thought, I limped and felt my way to the only undamaged part of the ship. Each shuffle forward was painful and the damage of my fall was beginning to reveal itself to me. The metal beneath me clanged unforgivingly loud underfoot and I felt certain that a creature would burst inside at any moment to reclaim the fragile life it had lost.

My weary footsteps took me through the ship, and by memory and feel I managed to find the door I wanted. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face in the pressing and disorientating darkness, but I ran it along what I hoped was the correct door and felt the rough brail beneath my trembling fingertips. 'Cargo'. Wanting to cry in relief I pushed it open and limped inside. Instantly the reek of alcohol hit me and I recalled the crate of booze that pretentious collector had brought with him. My heart was racing as I realised that again, more by luck than judgement, I had been offered a chance to survive. The crate was already open and I knew that many of the bottles had been drunk or used as light sources, but I only hoped that there was something left in there. My hope drained as I reached inside and my hand ran along an empty wooden surface. Surely there had to be at least one left. Putting both arms in, I pushed around the inside of the crate frantically, until a finger felt something cold. I grabbed it and wasted no time in tipping the liquid over any part of my body I could. I took considerable care to cover my back and winced with the burning sensation that the alcohol caused to my wound. This had to work. It had to. It was the only chance I had left. Clutching the bottle to my chest as if it was the only thing tying me to my sanity, I moved behind the crate slowly and slid to the ground. Letting out a breath I hadn't even realised I'd been holding, I leant against the cool wood and felt my back throb in protest. It was so dark. And cold, I realised, as more trembling wracked my alcohol soaked body.

The screeches seemed so close that I never stopped believing that every breath would be my last. I stayed behind that wooden box, with an empty bottle in my arms, simply staring at the black emptiness all around me. I had been told that at times like these your life was supposed to play black in your mind, but all I could see was Riddick's face. I kept seeing his smug smile, or the light in his strange eyes when he was teasing me. But most of all, I saw the horror as I was torn away from him. Time seemed to slow down so much that in just those few seconds I saw a myriad of emotions play across his face. I even tried to reach out to him as the searing pain began, and watched his figure grow smaller and dimmer as I was pulled further away into the darkness.

At first I had been just as scared of Riddick as the rest of the ship had, I only knew what Johns had told me, and he hadn't been Riddick's biggest fan. He didn't understand the man; just saw a wanted criminal and murderer. Not that I truly understood him much better; he was as unpredictable and changing as a wild animal. He always looked at me with an expression that told me he knew me, more than I knew myself, and could use that knowledge against me at any time. His manner was so confident that he seemed almost bored with life, unless he was fighting creatures or playing mind games with everyone. But even with all of that I felt myself drawn to him. I couldn't stop the feelings that stirred within me in his presence. He knew the dirtiest side of my personality, that I would have killed them all to save myself, but he only seemed to like that about me. When we spoke in the prisoner holding bay I knew Riddick could feel the connection between us, and the effect he had on me, and he had tried to scare me away. But when I saw those eyes I had to physically stop myself from telling him how amazing I thought they were. I couldn't help it. To me they were just another sign at how different and how mysterious he was. Riddick could have killed us all with little problem and thought nothing of it, but he had helped us all stay alive – though he did it begrudgingly.

Riddick had kept everyone going, I was sure. It was his over confidence in his own abilities and self-assurance of his own survival that had been infectious to the whole group. Watching the way that his decisions to help everyone were not made with the intention of being good, but were mostly a whim made with reasons that only Riddick himself knew was amazing. I was the captain and although I hadn't wanted the responsibility for those people I had tried to kill at first, I accepted the position when I realised their need for a leader was greater than my shame. But I knew that if he had disagreed with something I had said they would all have followed his orders over mine. His instincts were sharper than ours, afterall, he recognised the weakness for survival in me. But he made me feel like the one thing I hated about myself was only a strength in his eyes. I hadn't felt that before. He was the reason that all of my sense deserted me when I heard his cry, so instead of leaving on our only escape route, I had ran back toward the danger. Landing me in this sorry mess. Instead of listening to my instincts screaming out for me to leave I ran to him, because I couldn't do anything else. There was no way I could have ignored the pull of my heart.

A particularly loud metal clang took me out of my memories. My breath caught in my throat as vibrations ran through the ship, and I felt a sudden rush of adrenaline that brought heat to my cheeks. I didn't want to die. Even now. I could almost hear Riddick's laughter as I thought it, and see his hand reaching out for mine through the rain. I remember seeing his expression through the glass as I stood panting in the driving rain, blocking his escape route. It was the smile of someone who had expected nothing less. The smile of someone having fun. I hadn't realised why he'd been smiling like that until he stepped so calmly out to me and offered me something he knew I'd be unable to refuse. As I'd waited for the hatch to open I'd tried to check my emotions and remember that keeping my feelings for Riddick buried was the only chance Jack and Imam had. I couldn't waver now. Typically for me, these thoughts had lasted all of five minutes once the man was actually in front of me.

I snorted in derision at the weakness of my resolve and how quickly he had reduced me into a crying mess. The sound echoed horribly through the ship but I paid little attention, being so wrapped up in my visions of the past. There seemed to be no definite change in the sounds around me and some part of me hoped that they had given up. I no longer flinched at every creak or screech that sounded closer that they should and I lifted a hand to my face, but the darkness was still so thick that not even an outline was visible. I was no longer sure how long I had been sitting there in the dark, so numb with cold that even my shivering had stopped. I tried not to think about just how hungry I was, or how much my throat was burning, and I wrapped my arms around my torso in a vain attempt to warm up. I didn't want to think about where I would be now if I had taken Riddick's hand and gone with him, but the thought persistently tugged at the corners of my imagination. Maybe I would have been on a ship somewhere going wherever the fancy took him, maybe I'd be dead like Johns, or locked up in a prison cell. At least it would have been better than the situation I faced right then. But at what cost? Knowing Jack would have died waiting for my return would have been more than I could bear.

I drew my legs towards myself and placed my forehead on the cold, slightly damp material on my knees. I had to get out of the cargo hold or I'd freeze to death, discounting my hunger and my thirst. But I had no light source left and no means of escape once I'd gotten outside. I felt despair wash over me and a chill that ran deeper than my skin. I was going to die. That was that. Carolyn Fry, newly named captain of a whole ship, had survived the monsters but succumbed to the cold. Typical. My cowardice was going to kill me, and no one had even known I was still alive. I had kept my word; I had told Riddick I wasn't going to die for him, and I didn't. But my own fear and my lack of self-worth was going to kill me there. I gritted my teeth together as I tried to stand, pushing on the cold floor with my hands and ignoring the way that my short hair fell in front of my eyes; they were useless in this darkness anyway. The clothes on my back had dried onto my wound and I could feel the dried blood peeling away and cracking as I attempted to get to my feet. I was weak with hunger and exhaustion and I nearly fell straight back down, only staying upright by grabbing onto the crate as I felt my knees buckle. I thought that if I was going to die anyway I would defeat my demons first. I wanted to walk outside and face my fear of death. I would let the creatures have me. It wasn't what I had planned when I'd stumbled into the wreckage, but instead of waiting for the darkness to silently claim me I wanted to make a point. I thought I might finally gain some meaning to my life if I faced up to my fears, and make up for my weaknesses and past mistakes. My resolve strengthened with every slow and painful step, and I felt my way back to the door to the cargo hold. I placed my cold fingertips on the metal frame, I was quite ready by that point to go out and accept my fate but before applying any pressure to the door I realised something was wrong. At first I panicked, because something crucial had changed and I wasn't sure what, but then I felt bewilderment take over my panic as my mind processed what was different. It was silent. The constant screeching had been in the background for so long that its absences made everything sound wrong somehow. I wasn't even sure how long the eclipse had lasted.

I didn't dare let the confusion I was feeling at the silence blossom into hope that the eclipse was over. My hand reached out slowly into the darkness ahead of me as I walked. I couldn't believe that the outline was visible. Light was coming into the ship from somewhere. My eyes darted around the structure and saw tiny shafts of weak sunlight breaking through the holes that the crash had created. For all of my resolve to step out and die, I couldn't bring myself to enter the light. I couldn't bring myself to enter the light. I still wasn't quite sure if I had finally lost the last of my sanity and was simply hallucinating. I took some hesitant steps toward the entrance to the ship, sunlight now lighting my way. The temperature around me was rising slightly even as I hesitated, and I could feel my numb skin tingling in response. The light grew stronger as my weary legs took me further to the entrance of the ship. The first time the sunlight touched my skin I felt the tears roll down my cheeks. A sob choked its way out of my throat as I realised that the eclipse was over. I was safe. No more monsters. No more monsters. I could have sung aloud and danced in the bright light that had chased away the nightmares. The thin shred of sanity I still clung to kept my escalating relief in check, but the tears still wouldn't stop. I limped quickly outside, the pain that still burned through my whole body making progress maddeningly slow. The world was ablaze with colour when I finally emerged from the ship. The sky was clear and the silence glorious. I shut my eyes tightly and smiled – a simple action that I never imagined could feel so good.

Despite my overwhelming relief and happiness my tired eyes scanned the landscape and I felt the familiar trickle of cold through my veins as once again doubt and fear spread like a poison through my hope. I was alone on this planet, and I still had no food and no way of leaving. At least I knew that if I could get to the research building there would be water; the rise in temperature was already making my dehydrated headache worse. But the thought of trying to go all that way in my condition made me realise how hopeless my situation really was. Again. Just trying to make my way out of the ship had almost used up all the energy I had. There was no way my legs would support me all the way to the research building.

I took a look down at myself then, the first time since the eclipse, and barely recognised what I saw. My clothes were stained a light brown with the alcohol, with spots of a darker reddish colour that I knew to be my own blood and small patches of blue that had fallen on me from my captor's injuries. I lifted my hands and turned them over to examine them in the light. Both of them were grey with a mixture of dust, dirt and blood and I could see that there were already two areas of swelled skin, which were darkening to purple beneath the grey. I dreaded to think what my right leg looked like under my uniform; putting weight on it was difficult, as it had taken most of the impact from my initial fall onto the wreckage. Not to say my ribs had fared any better on that side, I had thought, wincing as I gently touched the right of my stomach. And who knew what sort of damage had been done to my insides from the tail. I sighed and ran a hand through my already messed up hair, all my frustration at yet another hopeless situation coming out in that one simple movement.

"Is this my punishment? For wanting to kill all of those people? For trying to kill them!" I took a deep breath, "For wanting to escape with Riddick? For telling him I wouldn't die for him? … When I would!" I screamed out to an empty desert, my voice cracked and hoarse with disuse and thirst. I shook my head while I struggled to get my breath back. What was I expecting, and answer?

"- llo?"

I froze. Was that voice?

"Hello?" A young male voice was carried on the windless air, and I shielded my eyes from the glare with a hand as I scanned the horizon.

"Is someone there?" A definitely female voice joined the first in yelling and I felt a hope so strong it took my breath away. I was suddenly unable to get enough breath to shout back to them and the voices were fading quickly. I clenched my eyes shut and took a huge gulp of air.

"Heeeey! Over here!" I coughed violently as my dry throat protested about such use. Through watering eyes I saw two silhouettes on the horizon and waved my arms as high as I could above my head, hoping they'd notice me. In the painfully slow time it took the pair to get close enough to see them properly I ran through so many awful scenarios at who they might be and what they were doing on such an awful planet that I almost didn't want them to get to me anymore. I had begun anticipating the worst of everything. However once they got close enough to see my fully, the young man pointing a gun at my chest lowered the weapon and the woman rushed forward to catch me as I felt myself slide down toward the sand, on legs that could no longer support my body weight. She barked an order at her companion and pointed back the way they had came, something about water and a ship. Her attention returned to me and I hazily heard her questions, thought it felt like the words were reaching me through a fog. I wanted to reply and tell her everything, right from the beginning; from the very first moment I tried to reach for that lever in that doomed ship. But all that came out was one word.

"Riddick."