Note: If you're reading, please leave me some feedback. I crave it. I need it. I'm a junkie for your love. Or hate. Please, darling. Do this one little thing for me?

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Heaven Freezes, Hell Closes

By Dejah Thoris

Chapter Thirteen: Solace Lost

And so I turned to you, my love

For the solace that is there

And offer any cherished thing

For a slight reprieve

I hoped that you would find me here

And I could learn to smile again

And as a balm for these wounds

Take away the sting

And as the band did play your body I did cradle

I should have known that song would have to end

--Fuel Solace

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It was supposed to be me.

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Their gear was packed, the ship was fueled and ready for departure. All that was left was to stock up on supplies for the jump and to pick up their cargo.

"It is a good thing we leave tomorrow, love," Phaidor was saying as she stared into their empty refrigerator. "We are completely out of food. Oh, no, there is this. How lovely," she griped, holding a bottle of mustard in one hand.

Riddick laughed. His laughter froze when he saw her twist open the top and squirt a glob of the yellow condiment into her mouth, tipping her head back to swallow. A grimace followed the action and Riddick made a gagging noise at her.

Phaidor grinned at him and gave him a mustard oozing grin.

"Wanna go to town, then?" Riddick asked, trying not to laugh again as she quickly washed the mustard down with a gulp of water straight from the tap.

"Yes, please," she answered, still grinning.

Riddick checked his pockets for his comm and wallet.

"At least we know we don't need mustard," Riddick murmured as he watched Phaidor quickly scan their supply list for anything they may have forgotten to add. "Toilet paper," he commented, scanning the list himself. Phaidor added it to the bottom.

"Okay, we're good, then," Riddick said and they headed for town.

They'd turned in their two weeks notice a few days early and had been off the job for two days already, leaving them both stocked with pent up energy. Riddick found himself breaking into a jog and grinned at Phaidor as she jogged beside him, laughing.

"Food!" Phaidor cried happily, drawing the word out and jumping up high in the air then turning so she landed running backwards.

Riddick laughed and nodded as he sprinted past her, flipping her hair up with a flick of his hand.

She chased after him, laughing with simple pleasure. Riddick suddenly swept her up into his arms, spinning her in a slow circle, a boyish grin lit his face and she kissed him lightly, her eyes glowing brightly.

"It's like being a kid again," Riddick said, still twirling slowly. "I never got to be a real kid," he added, knowing she understood.

"Shall we be children together?" she questioned, still smiling, her arms wrapped around his neck.

Riddick nodded. Then he leaned in, saying in a conspiring whisper, "Have we been naughty children together?" His voice dropped to a seductive growl as he said "naughty children".

Phaidor grinned wider. "Oh, yes. Let's be naughty some more when we get home."

"All right. Naughty is the plan for tonight. After dinner." They both laughed and Riddick set Phaidor back on her feet.

"Only another half mile to the market..." he trailed off and Phaidor shot him a sideways glance.

"Race ya!" he called, taking off.

Phaidor stood stunned for a moment then tore after him, calling names at his retreating back. Laughter was his only reply.

They reached the market in record time, rushing down the main street and ignoring the cries of jolted pedestrians as they passed.

Phaidor handed him half the list of supplies and they split up as they usually did.

That's why Riddick spotted him first. The merc was watching him, his interest bold and uncensored. Rage coursed through Riddick, but there was little he could do to the guy in the middle of the city's crowded public market.

He pretended not to see the guy, shifting his gaze to the produce stand before him. Doesn't he realize who he's fuckin' with? Riddick asked himself, feeling the blue eyes locked on the back of his head.

Riddick watched the man out of the corner of his eye, searching the face for familiarity and finding none. If only he could lure the merc away from the crowd... The thought set a plan into motion. It was obvious the guy would follow him wherever he went. Make him follow, then kill him. They were dusting off at first light, so there was no longer any reason to let the pest live.

It was a plan that had worked before and would work again.

So, produce dangling in a bag from his left hand, Riddick headed back the way he'd come, pretending to search for Phaidor who was clear at the other end of the market.

He could feel the merc following close behind, yet far enough away that he could duck out of sight if Riddick turned around suddenly. That was good. It would give Riddick time to position himself in one of the city's many alleys where he could then ambush the man.

Riddick turned left down an alley that ran toward the meat and poultry area of the market. Turning right at the end would lead him straight to where he suspected Phaidor to be, and that was the last thing he wanted.

The sounds of the market grew dim as Riddick began weaving through random alleys, the merc's footsteps trailing behind him despite the man's obvious attempt at stealth.

Just as Riddick stepped into the shadows of a recessed doorway, everything fell apart.

The light tread of a second set of footsteps was approaching from the end opposite that of where Riddick and the merc had come. The footsteps rounded the corner and then came to a startled halt as whoever they belonged to spotted the gauge-wielding merc.

"You!"

The voice rang out, echoing off the claustrophobic walls of the alley, and striking a spear of unparalleled horror into Riddick's soul.

Heart dropping into the pit of his stomach, Riddick immediately dropped his bag and leapt out of the doorway, hoping, praying he would be fast enough to throw himself in front of the gauge he knew would be pointing right at his Phaidor. God wasn't listening.

The shot echoed off the brick and concrete walls just as Riddick dove back into the alley, turning his back to the merc, eyes wide and hungry for Phaidor's face. A face drained of blood, full of pain and shock.

"No!" Riddick roared. Adrenaline pumping, Riddick landed in a crouch in front of Phaidor, taking in the sight of her abdomen ripped wide open, a gory mess of blasted flesh. His blade was in his hand with no discernable thought to do so and he spun as Phaidor collapsed to her knees, coming around to face the merc who was still trying to pump another shell into the chamber of his gauge.

The merc fumbled, cursed, stepped back and then turned, making to run. But not fast enough.

Riddick exploded from his crouch with a wordless cry of rage and fear, grabbing the merc by the back of his shirt and driving his blade towards the man's sweet spot. The blade slid in but in his distress Riddick's aim was off and he felt the tip hit bone, shudder, then break.

Not waiting to make sure the job was done, Riddick released the grip and dropped the merc to the ground. Then he was at Phaidor's side, lifting her onto his lap.

"Phaidor," he murmured frantically, brushing the damp hair from her forehead. "Phaidor," he said again and felt relief flood through him when her eyes blinked open, fogged with pain.

"Ri..." she gurgled, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. "Riddick," she managed finally, coughing.

"Christ," he groaned, pressed his hands against the gaping wound in her stomach, feeling her blood pumping out against his fingers, knowing she was bleeding internally. "Hold on, baby, hold on. I'm gonna take care of you."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, weakly reaching a bloody hand up to touch his face. "I don't want to go..."

Panic gripped his heart with an icy hand as she coughed up more blood. "Shit," he groaned, wiping the blood from her mouth with his hand. "C'mon, honey, I'll get you to the hospital and it'll be all right."

Riddick scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he began to jog in the direction she'd come from, but halting, uncertain if the movement was doing more harm than good when she cried out, sobbing.

A street band began to play a slow song, the mournful flute and heart wrenching violin echoing eerily down the alley from somewhere in the market, carried by some trick of the wind to Riddick's ears as he dropped back to his knees, holding Phaidor tightly in his arms.

"I love you, baby. Don't go, don't go. C'mon, just hang on... Please." His voice had taken on a desperate edge and he didn't notice when he began to rock her gently. "Please," he whispered.

"I love you, Riddick," Phaidor whispered, tears of pain and sorrow rolling down her cheeks.

Riddick felt his own tears spilling from his eyes, falling to land on Phaidor's ashy gray face.

"Riddick?" Her voice was thready. "I don't want to go, Riddick." Phaidor grabbed at his shirt and Riddick lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her softly.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," he pleaded against her lips, his voice cracking. "I love you, baby. You can't go. Don't leave me here alone."

"Love you..." she murmured again, and then she stilled, her breath halting in her lungs.

He stared at her for a long time, the band still playing as he cradled her body against his chest. His tear glazed eyes were locked with her blank stare and he knew she wasn't there anymore. The spark that had made her Phaidor was gone, replaced with a chilling emptiness.

The sky was clouding over and Riddick hunched his shoulders as the rain began to fall, sheltering Phaidor's body from the downpour. It came in sheets, accompanied by blinding flashes of lightening and violent, booming the thunder. The wind ripped between the buildings, causing an eerie howling. The street glistened wet and red from Phaidor's blood before it was washed away to run unnoticed along the street gutters.

"Damn you, take me," he whispered, tilting his face towards the sky. "She's gone and now I'm dead."

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That's how I lost and Johns won. That's how I lost Phaidor, my angel, my soul.

She died in that alley, bleeding in my arms, her last words telling me she loved me. I didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve to die. She didn't deserve to fall in love with a monster like me. She deserved a man who could give her a home and a family. A place to call her own.

But she did love me, and I loved-- still love her.

She was my solace. For her I would have offered any cherished thing.