Stages
Authors Note: This is a long time coming; I hope this is not out of character! If so please tell me because it is something that is important to me! Also, I like the bizarre interactions Carolyn and Riddick have with each other. He loves to invade her space. Their interactions will continue to be explored in this chapter, and again I hope it is not too OOC.
There are a lot of flashbacks as well, so please let me know if the format is jarring!
Warning: Alternate Universe, if it wasn't already apparent!
Rating: This chapter could be T for language.
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Carolyn had a headache. The tight pain was centered just behind her left eyeball and the dull throb ached to the base of her neck. She'd closed herself off in the bathroom, but even the steaming water of her bath couldn't ease the ache.
When she got home three months after the attack, after two months spent in hospital she'd arrived back at Terra Cross. She'd thanked her rescuers, gathered the extra change of clothes they had provided along with the data disk of her personal profile.
Despite living on Terra Cross nearly her whole life, when she stepped down off the ship onto solid ground the whole city in front of her seemed alien. Buildings loomed, casting shadows across deep alley-ways where anything could be hiding.
'There's nothing here Carolyn,' she told herself as she hailed a heli cab, 'you survived. Nothing is going to get you.' Just as she reassured herself, a pedestrian hurrying along the sidewalk jabbering into a head set crashed into her from behind. She screamed as she stumbled forward, someone caught her arm and she recoiled. It was the man who'd practically ran her over.
"Sorry," his brow furrowed, "are you alright?"
She jerked her arm back again and he finally let go. "I'm Fine." Her mouth stumbled over the word.
Denial, it was a nice concept to grasp onto. Carolyn had managed to talk herself into believing that she could just forget. As soon as she got back to her apartment she'd be fine. As soon as she had a warm bath and a stiff drink, she'd be fantastic she would be ready for work in the morning and be ready to get back to her life. She would be ready to get back to before.
She'd actually dialed Owens' number-- he'd be worried-- his wife had picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is Greg there?" For a moment Carolyn thought Madeline had hung up. "Hello?"
"...Greg is dead."
"I..."
Heat flushed her face; she muttered a quick apology and hung up the phone.
Owens is dead.
'That's right. You were there.'
That's right.
She'd told everyone to leave.
Johns...
"The point is, you could have done something, and you didn't."
He was dead too, wasn't he?
Carolyn gulped a deep breath, she stumbled over to her kitchen table, and pulled out a chair, she sat down heavily.
The next day she packed up everything she felt was necessary, went to the bank, took out a few hundred dollars and traveled in a heli-cab all the way to the other side of town, where she bought the first apartment she found in the digital want-ads.
She had enough money saved over the years that she could live for a while, without having to worry about finding a job but 'a while' ended up being only six months. She found another job soon enough, flying deliveries around town from where houses to their buyers. It was boring, but she didn't have to leave world and she got home by five o'clock in the afternoon.
Things, Carolyn thought, would now finally return to normal.
The more she ran the harder it was to breathe, and the more she denied herself the truth of what happened, the worse the nightmares and the worse her headaches got. She was holding on with an open hand and loosing grip quick.
Carolyn snorted, well, she thought cynically, admitting the problem is the first step towards healing. That is what the psychiatrist told her, he has also told her that "any amount of drugs in the 'verse wouldn't dull the pain" if she refused to come to terms with what happened.
Well Carolyn had admitted her problem and she still would have appreciated the drugs. But it turned out that she didn't need a prescription to forget, and whiskey was often all she needed to fall into a deep sleep.
There was a knock on the bathroom door that brought Carolyn back to the present. Riddick didn't wait for a reply before he opened the door.
Carolyn cursed and yanked the curtain closed. "Don't you knock?" She muttered, still dazed from the flashback that had crept up on her.
"I did." She could hear the smirk in his voice, and then she suddenly realized that the curtain she had pulled closed was practically transparent.
Carolyn swallowed, "well, since you're in here, make yourself useful and hand me a towel." She ignored the heat that she felt creeping up the back of her neck.
Riddick bent down, and grabbed one of the towels from the pile that Carolyn had dropped on the floor. Without breaking eye contact he pulled open the curtain and held out the towel.
"Thank you." She snatched the towel out of his hands sat up and unplugged the drain, just before she was about to stand a sharp pain throbbed against her left temple. "Ow," Carolyn winced. "Migraines," Carolyn said, as way of explanation. "I get them sometimes." Suddenly she was stating the obvious. She was on edge which only gave her headache a sharper twinge and Carolyn gave him a pointed look a look that said: fuck off and leave me alone.
When she stepped out of the bathtub, Riddick didn't move out of her way Carolyn stumbled into him and she kept her face devoid of emotion. She wondered, not for the first time if he had any concept of personal space. Carolyn knew that Riddick wanted her react but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
She realized that he was staring and she yanked the towel closed to cover herself. Without waiting for Riddick to reply she left her bathroom, pressing the door closed behind her.
She set the smart lock on her bedroom door and dropped the towel onto the floor. She wandered over to her mirror which hung on the wall beside her dresser. She stared at her naked reflection.
Her hair hung in damp waves down her shoulders, and the dark circles under her blue eyes gave away how tired she was. She looked down, at her bony shoulders, small pert breasts, skin that hugged close to her ribs and curved gently over her abdomen. Her jutting hips, her thin legs.
She wondered briefly what Riddick might think, if he saw this way, exposed— without hiding. Carolyn turned away from the mirror, she didn't like thinking about how she was revealing secrets to a stranger, especially someone who knew how to twist them to their advantage.
She picked up the small bottle of extra strength Aspirin off her bedside table and drowned four tablets with the stagnant water that was kept in a glass beside the bed.
Then Carolyn slowly got dressed. She pulled on an old, white ribbed tank top, and stepped into a pair of sweatpants. She gathered her hair into a messy bun and secured it with an elastic band. She settled onto her bed and pulled open another drawer, she grabbed a thick pair of socks and pulled them on. No matter how hot was in her appartment her feet were always cold.
Her stomach let out a deep gurgle that tickled up her belly. Carolyn scratched absently, and wondered what there was to eat in her apartment. Riddick had staked a claim on her pickles, and she was sick of crackers. She wanted something with substance, something to fill her up so she ached.
She glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly two in the morning. It was too late for anywhere to be open, so she decided to settled for the pot noodle she had in the cupboard with the crackers.
She slipped out of her bedroom; Riddick was leaning against the refrigerator, eating an orange. Carolyn remembered picking those up at the grocery store a few days before. She watched as he took a large bite out of the fruit, the juice splattered onto his chin and he chewed without wiping his face.
Carolyn put her kettle to boil and tore open her pot noodle. She stared into the cup and let out a sigh, it was depressing as hell.
The kettle whistled and she poured the steaming water into her noodles. She dumped half of the flavor packet before pulling herself up onto the counter. She turned to face Riddick, drew her knees to her chest and held the cup against her chest.
She slurped in her first forkful, but ate more slowly when the burning broth splattered against her bare skin.
When she was finished she set down her cup, and curled her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees.
Carolyn looked at Riddick curiously, it was strange how much comfort she could take from a convicted mass murderer. How his very presence eased the tension that had been building on her shoulders for months.
Carolyn had a brief thought that her comfort came from carelessness.
It was strange and then it wasn't.
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Endnote: It still isn't finished, I am sorry! But hopefully you enjoyed this installment. I am afraid it's not turning into much of a story but thank you for bearing with me.
