NEW AUTHOR'S NOTE AS OF 3/8/08- Alright, so I've had a few people emailing me and reviewing, telling me how I should continue this. So, I figured, what the hell might as well. Only thing is I ask that you review, otherwise I'll leave the story for good. I love to write, but not just for myself.

I'm going to be revising all the early chapters all and so that it has a bit better flow, and have my friend beta read it for me possibly. Things should be back to normal in a few weeks with some new chapters in the works. Thanks to everyone who's still with me right now.

Summary: I knew him before he was a cold hearted bastard. I knew him back when murdering someone wasn't an everyday occurrence for him. I was there when he was like any other kid, trying to make it on his own in a place where now one cared. And I was there when Richard B. Riddick finally broke, and all I could do was watch.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my own personal characters. Anything you recognize from the movies are not mine. Abe is mine and I seriously doubt that you don't have enough creativity to create your own character, so please don't borrow mine.

Dedication: To my friends who introduced me to Pitch Black almost three years ago. I would seriously be a sad person without you two.

Author's Note: Mkay. I'm kinda at a loss where to start the next chapter for my other story, so I started looking around at the different fandoms. I used to read Riddick fics all the time, but it was more like a phase I go through than anything. But, since I have nothing else to do, I figured why not just jump in and write something else. I'm totally making this up as I go along, so please bear with me. I have no idea when I'll be updating, so you've been warned ahead of time. I'll try to update this and my Band of Brothers story on the same day. Anyways! Moving onwards from my ranting. Review and all that good stuff.

Prologue

Snow Angels

Richard Riddick calmly stuffed his freezing hands into his coat pocket as he walked along the deserted side walk. It was surprisingly cold for only the beginning of November and many people had been caught unaware by the abnormal weather. Nearly everyone was inside their homes keeping out of the freezing temperatures. Some stragglers could be seen walking briskly in the cold as they covered as much bare skin with coats and mittens as they could. Store front windows were frosted in the corners, making them look like those someone would have seen on an old Christmas card from Ancient Earth.

The streets were coated in a thick layer of snow from the past few days of the light falling of frozen water. The sidewalks were piled high with the cold, wet snow at the corners where the plows had left the snow for people to traipse through them with difficulty. Many just avoided the outside world altogether, staying inside their warm homes with the fireplaces roaring and the hot cocoa stirring on the stove.

However, for Richard it was like any other day. Another day he was on his own, fending for himself. It had been that way for as long as he could remember. Richard had never known any of his family. He had stayed within the prison like walls of an orphanage until the age of eight. When he had finally grown tired of the plain walls and strict women, he'd made a quick escape for the outside world. It had not been nearly as hard as he had first though, but Riddick had soon learned that the escapement had been the easy part.

Living on the streets at a young age did things to a kid. You soon learned there was no one that you could trust besides yourself. Adults were cruel and hating, staring down at you as you sat on the side walk begging for spare change. They did not care what happened to kids that lived on the streets anymore than they cared for the rats that infested the city sewers. As far as they knew, the kids had brought the rough street life upon themselves. Maybe they had done horrible things to be unloved by their families or done as Riddick had and left the "caring establishments" that took them in, adults never cared enough to ask. But the street kids knew that the adults knew nothing of their hardships. Nothing of their pain or suffering.

Unlike normal kids, they did not have families to go home to. No warm blankets on their beds during the freezing nights. No hot food other than the scrapes that some cooks gave away. No soft hearted mothers to soothe their nightmares. No one left to hug them, or kiss their boo-boo. They fended for themselves because no one else would or cared enough to help. All they had were the clothes on their back and the flicker of hope in their heart at the smell of warm food.

Riddick looked hungrily through a frosted window as a baker pulled warm bread from a large oven. The third sun in the sky was starting to set and darkness was quickly coming over the city, along with even colder temperatures. Riddick could almost smell the bread in the cold, and his stomach gave a loud growl. He looked down and silently kicked himself for not eating in days. The last bit of food he had managed to scrounge had only been the leftovers of a coffee café, a half eaten biscuit and small swallow of freezing cold coffee. He searched his pockets quickly for change and was not surprised to find nothing but lint in the confines of his jeans.

It was a rare day when any street kid would have spare change.

People had become greedier over the years. They refused to part with their money when ever they could help it. That resulted in people living on the streets, not just kids, to resort to other methods of getting money. Ways that were sometimes frowned upon and not always legal. But when faced with the decision of not eating for another few days, doing something illegal was the least of a kid's worries.

Riddick looked around the street searching for someone. Anyone who looked like they had any amount of money hidden somewhere on their person was considered the perfect target. He noticed an old man walking slowly towards him, a cane in hand, but immediately dismissed the idea. Riddick was hungry, but not nearly hungry enough to rob an old man. Even he still had some standards.

His green eyes darted around the near empty street and were surprisingly pleased to see a young woman walking towards him. She had a small black purse draped over one arm and didn't seem to be paying much attention to her surroundings as she muttered to herself hurriedly. Riddick quickly ducked back towards the door of the bakery and leaned against the wall. As the woman passed by, Riddick walked out and knocked into her with a small amount of momentum. The two tumbled to the ground in a tangled heap of near frozen limbs.

Quickly, Riddick got to his feet and started to apologize profusely. He held out a fingerless gloved hand in attempts to be polite but was ignored. The lady looked at him warily and stumbled away from him slightly frightened. She gathered his bags from the frozen ground and started walking away without a word with a quick pace.

"Sorry, about that ma'am!" Riddick called after to the lady as she made her way down the side walk hastily. He lifted an arm and waved at her back with a grin on his face. He watched as the lady rounded a corner out of side and was soon out of sight.

Riddick gave a laugh at the lady and looked at the wallet he had managed to snag from the lady's purse. He unsnapped it and whistled at its contents. The next few days would be filled with actual good food that would possibly save him from starvation.

Bless that kind hearted woman.

"How did you do that?" a small voice asked from behind Riddick as he continued to count the currency.

He whipped around quickly, afraid to be caught red handed by either an officer or simply a Good Samaritan walking down the street that would be willing to turn him in to the authorities. To Riddick's relief it was neither a cop or adult that had questioned his methods. Instead it was a young blond headed girl, around the age of five or six he guessed, who stood a few feet down the street. A confused look was splashed across her dirty but innocent face.

A quick glance at the little girl's appearance told Riddick she was just another abandoned street kid, like him. Her short blond hair was pulled back into two ratty braids that hung limply over her small shoulders. The jeans that hung loosely from her skinny frame had holes in the knees and stains scattered across them. Her thin hooded gray sweater wasn't in much better condition, holes decorated the front and it was at least a few sizes too big for her. The only weather ready thing the girl wore were the pair of seemingly new boots that rested on her feet, the tops tightly tied in a bow.

The girl stared at him patiently, waiting for him to answer. "Magic," Riddick answered finally with a small smirk.

A scowl spread across the girl's face as she shook her head unconvinced. "Quinn said magic isn't real," she said seriously, a frown coming over her face. "Otherwise we'd be in nice big warm homes with our mommies and daddies and we'd always have food to eat."

"You don't have parents?" Riddick asked, though he was sure of the answer. No parents that lived on Kesor Nine would let their daughter walk around the way she was; it was too high a standard planet for that.

As he watched the girl shake her head and shiver in the cold, Riddick was unsurprised. "Me either," he admitted. As Riddick said the words, he wished he could take them back. He didn't want pity or sympathy from a girl at least four or five years younger than him. He was fine on his own, parents would only slow him down anyways.

The girl gave him a smile, not one of pity, but one that somewhat comforted him for some reason. It was that look that only a little kid could give. It was full of innocence and naive, but you still felt better despite the fact you knew the world was falling apart all around your fingertips. It was a look that you wanted with all your heart to believe in. Like for a few moments you were five years old and having only to worry about finger painting and girls with cooties. Not that Riddick had ever experienced either of those things, but as he saw the girl's smile, he was sure it was something like that.

"What's your name?" Riddick asked walking down the street and hoping the girl would follow him. The sounds of feet skipping on the pavement assured him that the little girl was in fact following him.

"Abigail," she answered, her words forming small puffs of air to be seen in the cold, "You can call me Abe though," Abe said quickly. Riddick noticed her small nose scrunched up in disgust, "Abigail is too...plain."

Riddick gave a chuckle but nodded his head in agreement, "Can't say that I know many girls with the name Abe."

She let a ring of laughter at that and Riddick was instantly reminded of the Christmas angels he had heard about from one of the women at the orphanages. The telling of stories was rare at the Home, but one of the younger women had taken pity on the kids and told them the story one night when the power had been cut by the electrical company. Paying bills on time had never been a strong suit of the Home. Or making sure that the children had enough to eat, but no one was trying to point out their faults.

Abe twirled around as she skipped down the sidewalk, a few steps in front of Riddick. He still had his hands crammed deep into his pockets in attempts to keep them warm, but Abe didn't seem to notice the cold as she danced around on the pavement with her hands flung in the air. A few adults passed them on the streets, some giving Abe looks of confusion while others walked far away from her, giving the girl a wide berth as they passed by.

About ten blocks from where they had started, Abe finally stopped her dancing and fell into step with Riddick. She gave him a long and hard sideways glance when she thought Riddick wasn't looking and stared frowned. Abe opened and closed her mouth a few times before suddenly blurting out her thoughts. "Can you really do magic? Like, real magic?"

The look of pure hope that had taken over Abe's face and lit up her soft blue eyes were enough to break anyone's heart. Riddick gave a sigh and threw her a small smile. "I wish kid," he said truthfully, "I wish."