In The Dark

So far, everything this Riddick had done had caught her off guard. She wasn't used to it in this ship of static personalities and constant politicking. Min didn't trust this sudden turnabout either, even though it was the payoff to the gamble she'd taken. Okay, who's paranoid now? She thought to herself.

"Someone once told me it was strange how we remember our past. Truth is, I don't remember much of it by choice." The Riddick spoke in those low measured tones again. "Most of it isn't worth the bother to remember."

"But I remember going to my first slam, a slam so dark…" The Riddick paused and Min had time to wonder what a slam was.

"I was too fucking young to be in prison…"

Oh! She thought.

"…But that didn't matter. There I was." The Riddick's voice grew a little louder with bitterness. "I had to learn to survive. I had to learn to read by the shit they wrote on the walls. I don't remember learning to turn these on."

There was challenge in his voice. He still didn't quite believe her. He'd lived most of his life looking at the world that way? Min was suddenly worried. What if he couldn't learn to drop his dark light lenses? Would he decide she was lying? The first time she revealed the truth about herself and now she risked dying.

Well, not the first time. The first time nearly cost her her life too. But she'd killed instead, for the first time.

She didn't think she could kill this Riddick, she didn't have the skills, and now she no longer had her disguise of harmlessness.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

"It- it's an in-involuntary muscle," she started off doubtfully, her normal voice alien to her ear. She rushed on, "Children usually learn to control it at about seven years old." She cleared her throat, uncomfortable still at hearing her own voice and speaking so openly in this place.

The Riddick, no, Riddick; his name, not a title, she thought consciously. Riddick was standing still as stone, waiting for her to do something. He wasn't telegraphing anything now. Min dropped her hands slowly and took a hesitant step forward out of her guarded stance. He cocked his head at her again as if saying, 'Well? Get on with it.'

"It's an involuntary muscle," she said again, blushing in the dark at her own nervousness. "But if I can just touch your face, there's nerve points I might be able to…" She trailed off as she took another step forward. Arms reach now, and she wanted to laugh too loudly or swing her arms like a silly little girl to break her own tension. Too many years she had relied on her affectations to cover herself.

Damn it, woman, you aren't a little girl, and he might be an ally, so get some backbone, she berated herself. If he were an armored cat he'd eat you just for acting like prey. Now stand up! Min dropped her shoulders and forced her muscles to relax as she took the last step up to Riddick. He was still unmoving and she thought of her cats again and how she moved with them. Unafraid, slow like the cats moved, not predator or prey. She brought her hands up to his face and he tilted his head down towards her.

"Relax," she whispered and bit her tongue to stifle an inappropriate giggle. She brought her fingertips to his eyebrows and felt lightly for the notch at the start of each of them. Then she circled his eyes along the edge of the eye socket with her thumbs to the point of his cheekbones and pressed up. "Close your eyes," she told him. "I'm going to press a little harder, then open your eyes and we'll see what happens." Fingertips at one nerve point and thumbs at the other she pushed hard against his face then dropped her hands and stood back.

"Open your eyes slowly so you don't twitch your lenses back up." She spoke softly. Her own lenses were still up so she could see if his eyes shined or not. Please work, please don't have atrophied, she thought over and over.

Riddick's head came up, eyes still closed. She couldn't see his eyes, but she assumed he hadn't opened them yet, so she was startled when he spoke, stretching the word out slowly.

"Interesting."