Closer to Fine
Part two...ish.
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I do not count the times
Carolyn Fry had often thought what might have happened had she left with Riddick. If she'd just taken his hand. She'd been so tempted...
What would have happened? Where the hell would they have gone? First she felt shame because she wanted to, she'd fallen to her knee's to keep herself from walking onto the ship. His taunting voice hadn't helped; it only fueled her anger. He might not have cared what happened to them, but she did.
In a flash she screamed, when he was distracted. She'd thrown all her weight against him.
They fell into a puddle, she wanted to wrap her hands around his neck, dig her fingers into his flesh, until he was blue in the face. She wanted to kill him.
Her hip cracked against the ground when he flipped her. He sat hard, crushing her so she had to gasp air to speak-- to breathe.
She'd meant what she said. She hadn't realized it until he asked.
She would die for them
.And as far as they were concerned, Carolyn Fry was dead. Torn away into the night. There had been a short spot on the news but it had been so fleeting she was certain none of them could have seen it.
Carolyn still couldn't help but to think of them. She found the harder she tried the more the thoughts kept coming. Memories, fragments she wasn't sure had happened or if she'd just imagined them.
Carolyn sighed and stared down into her glass, which held whiskey with ice long melted. Drinking didn't help, it just made the pain all the more real. There were a few times, when she'd been certain that they'd been there with her. Those hallucinations were what frightened her the most.
She sat curled on the couch; her television was on with the volume down low. She reached over and turned on the lamp, she set her drink down on the coffee table and glanced around her apartment.
It was a fucking mess.
Plates with half finished meals lay in piles on the coffee table, on top of the TV, by her stereo system; some were even strewn across the floor. Clothes lay on the floor and across the couch all in different stages of unwash.
She stood up, and then she reached over and scooped a pile of dirty dishes from the coffee table into her hands. Then she cut across her living room to her kitchen.
When she crossed from hardwood to cool tile the lamp beside the couch flickered and then the power went out. She froze her muscles hardened and she strained her ears. Even though Carolyn mostly preferred the dark-- she also preferred to choose it for herself. She didn't like surprises, never had.
She let out a string of curses. Even with all the technological advances the power still went out.
"Typical," she muttered.
Her eyes finally adjusted to the dark and she crossed her tiny kitchen to the sink, where she dumped the plates unceremoniously.
Something flashed in the reflection of the window out of the corner of her eye. When she looked up into the window she would have screamed, had all the air not rushed from her lungs at the face she saw staring back at her. Or rather-- the reflection.
He was inside.
That's fucking impossible
.Carolyn forced herself to gasp a small breath of air as she turned on the tap, she shifted the plates under the water and recoiled as it burnt her hand.
"Fuck me!" She clutched her throbbing fingers. "Christ," she muttered under her breath. She watched with abject horror as a hand reached out from the shadows and pressed a button that turned the steaming water ice cold.
"Careful."
He watched as she pinched her self on her upper arm, then again harder.
"You're not dreaming."
"Right... this is some fucking nightmare..." Carolyn's hand shook violently under the frigid water. "I really have gone crazy." A warm hand came to rest on her shoulder, she jerked away and reached across the counter grabbing the first knife she could reach. She spun around, holding out her weapon. "How the hell did you get in here?"
Riddick glanced down at the knife Carolyn was holding, he 0looked back up at her with a smirk. "Your door was unlocked," he took the pearing knife from her fingers. "It's not safe Carolyn, anyone could just... walk in." He tossed the knife into the sink, Carolyn was still holding out her hand and she hadn't blinked for some time. Riddick waved a large hand in front of her face. "Aren't you happy to see me?"
Carolyn was vaguely aware that Riddick was talking to her, his mouth was moving and he had that insufferable smile on his face. She blurted the only question that seemed to make any sense.
"What the fuck?"
Riddick turned from Carolyn and glanced around her tiny kitchen. There was a small fridge and what looked like an even smaller stove. The kitchen table was bare and there was only one chair sitting dejectedly on the left side. He'd noticed the rest of her apartment was just as sparse, if not a little more messy-- hell a lot more messy.
He turned back to Carolyn and couldn't help the wonder that flicked briefly across his face.
He'd been so certain she was dead... he'd felt it, low and hard in the pit of his stomach. When he caught the news one night by chance he'd been amazed to see her face plastered across the screen. There was a brief story, lacking many details, giving the few there were about Carolyn's rescue. No mention of Riddick, or Jack, or Imam.
The look on her face was what had stayed with him the most. The empty look in her eyes, the same look Jack wore occasionally when she thought Riddick wasn't paying attention. Before he dropped her and Imam off on New Mecca. Then there had been the tears. She'd begged him to stay. She didn't understand that he couldn't. If not for his own sake then at least for theirs. Jack certainly hadn't been happy about it, but in the end, she said she understood. She'd wrapped her arms around him tightly for a moment in an awkward hug, then let go, looking slightly shocked. Then she'd stepped back beside Imam and Riddick had disappeared into the crowd.
"Nice place."
Carolyn snorted, then suddenly, her hands were on his face, her fingers cold and searching. He grabbed her wrist.
"I'm sorry--" she pulled her hand, "I just needed to make sure..." she paused, "you're real." She realized briefly that she should have been more frightened than she was. A mass murderer was standing in her kitchen, like he belonged there. The thought irritated more than frightened her.
He let go of her and she pulled her hand away.
Silence fell over the dark kitchen, questions hung in the air between them. Questions neither wanted to ask and neither wanted to answer.
"So," Carolyn said softly, she leaned back against the counter. "How's Jack?"
"I wouldn't know."
Riddick cut her off before she could ask her next question.
"Wouldn't know about him either."
"Oh," Carolyn replied. She should have known he would have dropped them off as soon as they reached New Mecca. She wondered if he would have left her too, had she made it off with them.
She shook those thoughts away; wrapping her mind around a question like that hurt her head too much.
Another question came unbidden to her mind. Why was he here? Why now? Why come at all?
He cocked his head, and it was then that Carolyn realized she'd asked that last question aloud. She watched him closely.
"Why'd you do it?" He demanded,
"Do what?" Her question wasn't coy, but honestly perplexed.
"Come back for me."
"..." Carolyn turned, and bent over to open the cupboard under the sink. She squeezed soap into the sink then began to wash the dishes with a rag that lay folded on top of the tap.
"Avoiding the question Carolyn, or the answer?" Riddick was silent. "Or maybe both."
Carolyn snorted again; she glanced over her shoulder. "I could say the same about you. Why'd you break in anyway? To kill me?"
If her words affected him, Riddick didn't let it show. "Breaking in generally includes breaking something..." there was that smirk again, then, Riddick's face grew serious. "I came to see you."
Carolyn actually laughed out loud she couldn't help it. Riddick grabbed Carolyn's shoulders and spun her around, soapy water splattered across the front of his shirt. He shook her once, Carolyn winced but he didn't let go. "I'm serious." He growled.
"Really? You shouldn't have troubled yourself," Carolyn's voice was carefully measured, steady. "Because I'm--"
"Who the hell are you trying to kid Carolyn? You're not fine."
Fury flashed in her eyes. "How the hell would you know?"
"You're not even close to fine," Riddick went on, "not even in the same--"
Carolyn wrenched her shoulders out of his grasp, in a motion she knew would leave bruises. She slammed her fist into his face, and connected with his nose. She struck across him across his shoulders, his solar plexus, in a last ditch effort she kicked him sharply in the shin.
"Fuck you!"
He caught her around the shoulders again, but this time he pulled her against him, and locked his arms behind her back. She twitched against him once, twice, then she went still. She didn't sag, she didn't cry, she didn't bite or scream, she just stopped.
"You finished?"
Her reply was muffled into his chest, he pulled back slightly and she looked up at him.
"No."
He tightened his grip around her again and she didn't fight him.
She was skinnier than the last time he'd seen her, and he wondered fleetingly if she'd been eating. She was wearing a large sweatshirt and a pair of faded jeans. Her hair was longer and pulled back into a ponytail. She was looking up at him, the breath from her nose tickled his neck and slowly he released her. She didn't step away at first, but stayed flush against him.
Then she blinked and stepped back, "sorry," she muttered, her face flushing with humiliation. "If I hurt you."
There was an odd noise from the living room and Carolyn left Riddick standing in her kitchen. Just as she stepped into the living room the lamplight flickered on. The television was back to the channel she'd been watching before the power went off. The time that passed had seemed like hours, but when she glanced at the digital clock on her wall she saw it had only been a half an hour since the last time she'd checked.
She rubbed her hands down her arms, which throbbed painfully.
"Sorry," she called to Riddick. "The power was out." He didn't reply. She suddenly was overly conscious of the state of her apartment. "Sorry about the mess too, I wasn't expecting company." He still said nothing.
Something cold settled into the pit of Carolyn's stomach and she dashed across her living room and skidded to a stop on the tiles of her kitchen. Her breath caught in her throat.
"Carolyn?"
She screamed sharply and spun around, Riddick was looking at her over the open door of her refrigerator.
"I..." I thought you were gone. She gestured to her fridge. "Help yourself."
"I will," Riddick replied and his head disappeared back behind the door. "You eat this shit?"
"Occasionally," Carolyn countered.
"You hungry?"
"Occasionally."
"I meant now."
"I know."
He was looking at her over the door again. "You don't have to bullshit with me Carolyn, I know you're not fucking fine."
"I--" Carolyn swallowed the rest of her reply when she saw Riddick glare. "Fine," she shrugged. "You're right. But you know... considering. I'd say it's normal."
Riddick shrugged, then slammed the fridge door closed. "So would I." He was holding an open jar of pickles, he took one out and bit into it, he held out the jar and she shook her head.
"They give me indigestion on an empty stomach," she blurted before he could say anything. She opened a cupboard beside the sink. "Crackers." She opened the box and slipped a Wheat Thin into her mouth. It was strange, the both of them standing in her kitchen-- in fact it was completely absurd. A ghost of a smile graced her lips. A good dream.
In the soft light she noticed he was wearing his goggles, but he'd pushed them up onto his head. His eye's glinted as he shot her a sideways glance.
"So." Carolyn said, her mouth full of Wheat Thins, Riddick replied by taking another large bite out of his pickle. "You planning on, staying for a while?"
"Maybe."
This time the silence wasn't so deafening.
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AN: The end! For now! (I'm evil!) At first, I wrote that he left-- but then I changed my mind and I decided to give this a quasi-happy ending. I say quasi because I'm not certain this story is finished. I myself am interested where this might go, seeing as how I didn't even think I could write Riddick in the first place. I used the idea from CoR of why he left.
So let me know what you thought, about the characters, where this could be heading, any constructive criticism, anything!
anyway, thanks for reading and I hoped you enjoyed it.
brc
