Title: The Gray Man

Author: LadyElaine

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The characters and situations of "Pitch Black" belong to USA Films and David Twohy.

Summary: Richard B. Riddick woke up from almost half a century of living death unchanged. But you don't pull a Rip van Winkle without consequences.

Feedback: Feedback is appreciated. Constructive criticism is worshipped. dragonlady75069@attbi.com



The Gray Man



I. Eclipse: Losing Riddick



I'm living in a stranger's skin.

Richard B. Riddick woke up from almost half a century of living death unchanged. But you don't pull a Rip van Winkle without consequences. The boys and I had managed to skirt relativity, living in real time for only seventeen of Riddick's dead years, but still.

But still.

How do you give a man his fatherhood back? How do I give him back the time when Reg took apart the condenser, trying to figure out the workings, when he was six years old? How do I give him back the twins' tenth birthday, when Martin put aside the biggest piece of the cake "for Dad"? How do I give him back the family he never got to have, the boys who are now men, the girl he fell in love with?

He can't see the gray that's sprouted at my temples, or the age that's beginning to lace the corners of my eyes. His enhanced eyes can see into the infrared spectrum, though; maybe that's why he looks past me these days, never at me. Have I really grown that cold? I must be living in a stranger's skin.

A long time ago, we'd promised each other that we would visit Disneyland Heinlein. We never did go to Mars, but Disneyland eventually came to us. Eclipse finally became a popular enough tourist trap for the Disneyland Liner to make a stop. It was after Riddick had come back, after the Elder had somehow healed him; we toured the giant cruise ship's rides in silence, but he actually held my hand when we watched an old vid of "Beauty and the Beast". Then we were accosted by an overzealous Donald Duck, and Riddick turned and left. I don't want to think about what would have happened if I hadn't kept pace with his long, angry strides. That wasn't the first time he'd almost left me behind.

The message screen was blinking when we got home. When Riddick hit the play button, though, the screen went dark. Appropriate, given the voice that came out.

(Riddick. We have need of your skills. We request that you come to Darklin.)

And that was all.

Riddick erased the message, stalked into the bedroom, disrobed, and slid into bed, all without saying a word to me. I crawled in after him, and we lay in silence, our backs to each other. We were being so careful not to touch one another; if one of us shifted, the other would flinch away. I don't remember how much time had passed before I fell asleep, but Riddick was gone when I woke up. He'd been gone for a long time.

I rolled over and felt nothing but cold sheets. I sat up and listened; the silence of the house was so familiar--too familiar. For one horrible minute, I thought Riddick was still down in the stasis freezer, waiting for a miracle that would never come. Slipping on my robe, I explored the house. Strange for it to be this empty. The boys had moved out once Riddick came back; but now he was gone, too. The bedrooms were the only rooms with no windows; the rest of the house lay bathed in blue and gold and white shafts of light. The motes of ever present dust danced and shone, lending the rooms the only hint of beauty left to them, now that they were so vacant.

I ate my breakfast cold. Then I packed the only bag Riddick hadn't taken in the night.

* * *

Reg and Martin had agreed to meet me at the space port. They didn't quite stand shoulder to shoulder, but the way they were both nervously shifting on their feet made me feel like I was seeing double.

The air was hot, even for Eclipse, and there were ring-shaped dust clouds spinning far overhead. Smaller dust devils, cousins to the larger clouds, danced crazily over the ground; my eyes teared up in the sudden gust.

"Are you going after him?" That was Reg, always the serious one. He was already growing the same frown lines his father had developed years before. Why had I only noticed it now? Riddick no longer knew me; had I become a stranger to the boys, too?

Martin embraced me but didn't say anything. I hugged him back, hard, and had to force myself to release him. Then I wiped the tears out of my eyes again and told both boys, "I'd better see grandchildren when I get back!"

None of us questioned why I'd said 'I,' not 'we.'