A/N: Thanks to R. Coots prodding, my brain is alive with fic-lets for this crazy little AU of mine.
Self Fulfilled
The Doctor doesn't like this. Time's a bit funny here, he's not sure why. The future's ridiculously tight and narrow but it's got a bit of wiggle room. But his investigations have lead him here and he can't abandon them now. The price is too big to pay.
The TARDIS hums in interest. Time has started to heal now, things are getting more stable now but that doesn't mean he can blindly plough on ahead.
He'll just have to tread carefully.
x
"Riddick!"
Someone grabs his arm and forcibly hauls him off Jeremy's prone body. He twists furiously, snarling angrily as he tries to escape the many hands pulling him up and away. He has a moment to catch sight of Davidson's startled face before the man is hauling him onto his feet and down the hallway. "You'll be seeing the warden for this," the guard tells him as he marches the child passed curious onlookers. "What on earth did poor Jeremy do?"
Riddick doesn't answer, he growls instead and tries to snag his arm out of the man's reach. He's a strong little thing for his age but no match for a well-trained guard several times his own weight. Failing that, he sets to work with his teeth, biting at the closest unprotected skin within reach.
"Whatever," Davidson decides, entirely unimpressed with Riddick's resistance. He unceremoniously hauls the boy up onto his shoulder, giving him a strong whiff of scents he'd rather do without smelling. "The new warden will sort you right out. Supposed to be some kind of genius."
The warning doesn't phase the boy, who has turned deceptively limp and is merely waiting for an opportunity to escape to come along. The last warden, Mr James Murray, had been strict but fair, though he simply had not known what to make of him. No amount of punishment or reward improved Riddick's behavior and the man had grown increasingly frustrated with him before his sudden retirement. Despite that, Riddick had respected the man, Mr Murray had remain consistent with punishment no matter how angry he was with one crazy ten year old.
The new warden, Riddick figures, will be no different.
Davidson turns the last corner, knocks on the warden's office and waited to be called in. Once the warden calls for them, the guard walks inside and dumps Riddick into the chair in front of the warden's desk.
"Problem, Davidson?" the imposing man on the other side of the desk reading a bunch of reports is unlike any other that Riddick has seen in his grand total of ten years. He has cold blue eyes and ridiculously large ears, they stick to the side of his head like a set of satellite dishes. As comical as they are, only a foolish man would mistake this man to be harmless. He doesn't smell like anything Riddick's ever encountered before but if danger has a scent, the boy thinks this could be it. The sheer level the warden exudes makes him think, perhaps, he might want to be on his best behavior around this man.
"I caught this brat beating Jeremy Wells to a smear outside the cafeteria," Davidson gives a disgusted snort. "This here's Richard B Riddick and a right pain he is. All yours now."
"Right, thanks. I'll take it from here, you can run along and get back to intoxicating yourself with whatever chemical you were mucking about with."
Davidson freezes. "Sir?"
The warden hasn't looked up yet, he taps a keyboard and brings up a screen with Riddick's file.
"It's Knockdown," Riddick speaks up carefully, he'd pinned the drug the moment the guard had got him to his feet.
The warden glances up at last, an eyebrow raised. He freezes for half a second at the sight of Riddick and a jolt of recognition shoots through the boy's body. His head hurts, he drops it forward against the desk as he tries to get himself under control.
The warden has recovered though. "Knockdown huh?" the man says nonchalantly, pinning the unfortunate guard with a glare. "That's illegal on this planet. You have an hour to pack your bags and shove off."
Davidson splutters a protest. "This gutter-trash will say anything-"
"Mate, if you were any higher, you would be out of the atmosphere. I can smell it from here. Get your bags and get going."
The warden glares and the guard recognizes that the man means it. That leaves Riddick all alone in the room with the quite frankly terrifying new warden. His head is still pounding, images of fire and burning keep flashing through his mind but it doesn't keep him from thinking. He'd never met someone else with his uncanny sense of smell, Knockdown didn't exactly leave odors detectable to the average human nose. With something akin to astonishment, he cracks open an eye-lid and ogles at the other man.
"Richard B Riddick," the warden mutters, scrolling through his file. "All round troublemaker, you are, according to this file. A record number of 57 fights with other children …23 instances of stolen property...you set fire to a dormitory?"
That had been several children's homes ago and the warden had commented without the usual scolding tone, rather he'd sounded almost admiringly. Riddick tilts his head to the side, trying to focus through the searing pain in his head. "Didn't have anything to better to do," he mumbles stoically.
The warden glanced up, somehow hearing the distress in his voice. "Don't," he says sharply.
"What?" Riddick demands defensively. He isn't doing anything, not yet. In fact, he doesn't even want to consider pissing this man off.
The warden glances round and seems to notice something that Riddick can't see. "You've got to stop this," he says. "You can't remember, not now."
"Remember what?" the boy demands hotly.
The man reaches across the desk with a speed Riddick is not prepared for. A set of long, slim fingers frame his head and suddenly, the pain is gone. He blinks suspiciously at the man as he settles back, then offers his hand up in greeting.
"I'm John Smith, by the way. That's what people call me."
Riddick eyes the proffered limb but doesn't take it. "You're the warden," he says instead and ignores that the man is lying about his name.
"Hmm, yes. At this moment, I guess I am. So! What exactly did you do to get sent to my office?"
The boy tenses at the question. He gives a dismissive shrug. "Exactly like what Davidson said. I beat the shit out of Jeremy."
The warden, as Riddick chose to think of him, raises a skeptical eyebrow. "And?"
Riddick leans back and folded his arms mulishly and stared straight back at him. "And what?"
"Well, you've got to have a reason," the warden prompts.
"You've got my file. They say I'm crazy. That I don't need a reason because I'm nothing more than a fucking animal."
Pain, actual genuine pain shot across the warden's face and Riddick wonders for half a moment if he's misjudged him so badly. The man closes down the file and then stands up and paces over to the window.
"Do you know why I'm here?"
"Because your idea of a job sucks?"
"I discovered a child trafficking ring out past the Tangiers system," the warden says, staring out the window. "It's gone on that end now. But I tracked it back, and ended up here. Miserable little place in the middle of nowhere where kids can go missing and no one blinks an eyelid."
Despite himself, Riddick shivers. He is piqued by this man, this man who seems to care when no one else does. Children died by the dozen on Mitacoid Two, no doubt about that. It doesn't seem like the warden is lying, unless this is all an elaborate hoax though Riddick can't think of a reason why anyone would go through the trouble in the first place or bother telling him about it.
"So?"
The warden - Mr Smith, Riddick decides- jerks his head towards him. "So. I'm investigating!" he says with relish, like he's sharing a great secret and just wouldn't Riddick like to come along and join in? "I don't care what it says on your file, it's all rubbish anyway. Human psychologists, don't have a clue what they're doing and, in your case, what they're dealing with. Anyway. Need some help. Need someone who knows this place well."
Riddick glances around in surprise before staring blankly in shock. Mr Smith has to be joking. What sort of adult asks for help from a child? Especially from him, of all the kids in the home. They wouldn't even trust Riddick with a rock (probably because there had been that one time with a slingshot and a concussion and….) much less a pet plant.
But still…
"What do I get out of it?" he demands.
The pain again, vast and terrible twists Mr Smith's face with heartbreaking grief. "You'll be safe," he says with unexpected gentleness.
"Nowhere is safe," Riddick snorts at the man's naivety.
Mr Smith whirls back to the window and slams his hands down, startling Riddick with the sudden violence and reminding him just how dangerous the man really is. The fake warden's hands clench into fists. "If I-" his voice breaks off in recrimination and he gives a broken, half-mad laugh. "No, I can't."
Riddick uncurls himself from his chair and takes one bold step onto the floor, staring at this stranger. "If you could what?" he demands fearlessly.
Mr Smith straightens and visibly calms himself before turning around to face Riddick again. "Doesn't matter," the man says briskly. "Look, here's what I know. Your previous warden, Mr Murray? Didn't retire. Gone missing. Given my line of experience, that's never a good sign. Don't know what's going to come next but I can't imagine it's anything good for you or the kids here."
Riddick narrowed his eyes in frustration, not appreciating that his question has been ignored. "Don't care," he says. "I'll survive. I can survive anything the world throws at me."
The pretend-warden looks tired. "And the sad thing is, I don't even doubt it," the man mutters under his breath with a depressed laugh, not realizing or perhaps forgetting how sharp Riddick's ears are. "Riddick," Mr Smith says, striding over and crouching down so that they are face to face. Strong steady blue eyes falter for a moment under the boy's furious brown before they regain their strength. "Richard B. Strong name. Name of kings. The boy who knows so much more than everyone else. Why did you burn that dormitory down?"
Riddick pulls away and laughs bitterly. "Cause I'm crazy."
"Said it was full of monsters that ate your friends. Creatures that hid in the dark and traveled in the shadows. But no one else could see them. No one else could stop them. And in the end, no one believed you."
The boy stops and stares and hates the strange man more than anything else in the world at this very moment. He's just like the others who have read his file, laughing at the mad boy who told stories.
"Humans. Silly little apes, can never believe just how much they don't notice. All the deaths stopped after you burned the nest. You saved them all and they wrote you off as a troubled child."
Riddick's vaguely aware that his mouth has fallen open. He believes. It's impossible. It's crazy. Then he remembers himself and pulls backward. "That's people for you," he says coolly.
"Fantastic."
"What is?"
"You. You're absolutely brilliant," Mr Smith smiles and it's a radiant thing, like the sun peering over the horizon. "The boy who isn't afraid of monsters, Richard B. Well now. Makes me think that there's something wrong with one Jeremy Wells."
Riddick jerks his head up and stares. He remembers how Mr Smith could smell the drugs on the guard and he thinks that perhaps this man might understand. "He doesn't smell right," he confesses.
The fake warden is interested. "What does he smell like?"
"Not like a person." Riddick doesn't think that mentioning his instinctive urge to tear the other boy's face off and make sure he is dead, dead, dead and unable to harm anyone will be well received.
Mr Smith stands up and heads for the door. "Does he now? Well, I think this warrants investigating. Are you going to come with me? Might need someone who knows how to handle monsters."
"I don't know," Riddick says honestly. Because as tempting as it is to be swept up in this man's wake, this man who knows about the monsters and believes in him, he can't forget how dangerous he is.
Mr Smith stops and his smile falters. "It's okay," he says. "We don't know what's out there. Better you stay here where it's marginally safer, eh?"
"It's not that," Riddick replies because he is not afraid of the monsters but he is determined to not be afraid of this man. He lifts his head and stares boldly at him. "It's just you don't smell like a person either."
The smile slides away entirely and suddenly Mr Smith looks old and exhausted. "Richard B," he whispers. "The child who knows far too much, you are wise beyond your years. But I swear I am not a danger to you. Only to the monsters that lurk in the dark." He holds out a hand. "What do you say, we go give them something to be afraid off."
This time, Riddick doesn't hesitate, he reaches out and takes hold of the man's hand.
x
As things turned out, lots of running, dead bodies and monsters are involved. They find Mr Murray in the cellar without his head. Half the guards have been replaced by some sort of shaping shifting creature Mr Smith referred to as Cretschsalkator. They manage to get the other children out of the building before luring the creatures to the cafeteria.
The explosion is pretty spectacular.
In the aftermath, Riddick watches as Mr Smith contacts the appropriate authorities (a gas leak was the given explanation) and pressures them to have the children moved to another planet and into a better children's home. When it was all said and done, that's when Riddick somehow brings himself to remember how to hope and approaches the man.
"Take me with you," he says, as Mr Smith fumbles for a key in front of a blue box.
The man stops. He places his head against the box and closes his eyes. "I can't," and Mr Smith sounds broken, miserable and small but it's nothing compared to the shattering of a little boy's hopes and dreams.
"Why not?" Riddick demands, not willing to believe that this man who understands, who believes in him is going to turn his back on him. It's been so long since Riddick's had any sort of faith in an adult and he won't be discarded by this man. His heart hardens and he steps back. If he walks away now, it'll be him rejecting Mr Smith, right?
"Because-" the man starts and stops and then shakes his head helplessly. His hand curls into a fist and he pounds it into the door. "Stupid, stupid Elementals. I'm going to yell at them for this."
The boy doesn't care about a race of beings he's never even met. All that he knows is that he is being abandoned. Without another word, he stalks away to the other children and doesn't look back. He doesn't see Mr Smith climb into the blue box or see the blue box disappear.
The next time he sees something that belongs in the dark, he ignores it. Provided it doesn't go after him, he's got no problem with the things that prey on humanity. People are stupid after all and weak and can't be trusted. If they can't survive, that's none of his business.
After all, he's one of the things that lives in the dark now.
x
The Doctor sits inside his TARDIS. He feels cold and exhausted and furious beyond measure.
"I just shattered the childhood dreams of one of my closest friends," he says in numb disbelief.
The TARDIS thrums comfortingly. He tries to convince himself that it doesn't matter, that that man has never existed in the first place because Furya is gone and the culture that would have raised him is gone along with it.
It doesn't work.
Eventually he rouses himself and lays in a course. They should have never come here but the Doctor's never been one to ignore children in need. And the timelines are starting to heal now and settle down, that's why he hadn't recognized what he'd stumbled into. It was stable enough now for his path to cross with Riddick's when before it would have been unthinkable.
But it's still not enough for him to change anything. Everything's locked in and laid down, the Doctor see the pieces but he cannot nudge them off this path.
He pulls down a lever and the TARDIS sets off through the time vortex.
There's a planet he needs to visit so he can yell at a few people.
