Diclaimer: I own Wildcat and Daeva. They are my minions of insanity.

Damn, Not Again!

Chapter 18

I'm me again. No' sure fer how long, though. The moons o' the plane' have been actin' real strange la'ely. They've been jumpin' their allo'ed time schedules. Takin' longer or shor'er than they're s'posed t' in between phases.

I lean agains' the wall of the shower, feelin' the wa'er agains' my seemin'ly permanen' black skin, bu' no' really enjoyin' i'. I's star'in' t' ge' cold, bu' tha's no' really foremos' in my mind a' the momen'.

The door creaks open and I look up, reachin' for the dagger tha' I se' on the small shelf. I'm ready t' kill whoever i' is who's unlucky enough t' walk in on me in nothin' bu' Daeva's birthday siu'.

A shadow falls across the translucen' shower cur'ains and as I watch, i' leans agains' the wall jus' ou'side the shower. A hand snakes behind the cur'ain and shu's of f the wa'er. I watch warily, knife still in hand, as the hand retrea's, leavin' my line of sigh'.

"I know you're not thinking of throwing that knife at me, little girl."

His low rumble of a voice calms me a li''le, but I still don' release the knife blade tha' res's between my fingers.

"I'm no' a li''le girl." I say, no' movin' from my sea' on the bo''om of the shower floor.

"Well you're sure not acting like an adult."

"Spare me."

Faster than the eye can blink, the shower cur'ain's been thrown back and I jump a li''le as Riddick stares down a' me behind those goggles. I's no' like he hasn' seen Daeva in her starkies before, bu' i' still bothers me, and I pull my knees up t' my chest.

"Go…away…" I say, very slowly, eyes narrowin'. He til's his head like I mus' be jokin', and then throws me the towel tha' he's been holdin'.

"Get dressed." he says, and then he leaves, expressionless as ever.

I watch the door for a momen' or two and then stand, walking over t' the clothes Daeva had se' ou' for us before she'd turned back inte me.

You are a slu'. I though' t' her. She mimicks a tiger growlin' in the back of my mind and I shake my head, disgusted.

For revenge, I brush ou' her unmanageable locks and pin i' up until i's all up on top of my…her head. I used the bu''erfly se' tha' was in my pack.

The shir' is a hal'er. Wide straps instead of sleeves or spaghe''i straps. Sleeves are too cumbersome, and I won' le' her wear spaghe''i straps. Too easy t' cu' through.

The pan's, as usual, are leather, bu' the ones she's picked buckle up on both sides, like they're too small and need an alterna'e way t' stay on. I' takes me five minu'es t' ge' dressed, and I open the door t' see Riddick, who's apparen'ly reachin' for the door knob.

He stares a' me for a second, as if in surprise, and I shoulder pas' him, bare skin slidin' agains' bare skin for less than a second. I' sends a shiver down my spine, and i' migh' have been my imagination, bu' I think i' sen' one down his too. And then there's the familiar feelin' of pressure on my hear' as Daeva slips pas' my defense and takes control.

Perspective Change

I look at Richard and take in his appraising stare, tilting my head to one side.

"Who were you looking at, Richard?" I ask him, curiously. His mouth, whichis hanging open slightly, closes, and he straightens, not answering the question. I've long since known that Richard B. Riddick feels something other than murderous intent for my dear, sweet Rae. Otherwise he would have tried to kill me.

Not that he would have succeeded. But he would have tried.

He doesn't answer me, and I peek into the back of my mind, where Rae is singing oldies from twentieth century earth as loud as she can. She's taken to doing that lately. I think maybe she's going insane.

Which wouldn't worry me, but about the time she started singing, I started feeling … something … for Richard. If she's going insane, I must be too. Which means that she's been in there for too long. S.P's are sort of made to be locked up in the psyche more often for longer than the Ayorthians, considering that our full moon comes once every seventy-five years and last for six months. Which is confusing unless you live there, because for six months in the Ayorthian calendar, the sky remains dark, as if in perpetual night. So, technically, the full moon lasts six months in a night.

We've been on T.A for three months. She shouldn't be going insane for at least a month and a half more, but then, she did hop planets a lot before I emerged from my mental prison.

After a moment of standing in the middle of my hotel room, I sigh, walking over to my duffel, which I pick up and start to pack.

"What are you doing?" asks Richard, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. I don't look up at him as I stuff my and Rae's clothes into the duffel.

"We're leaving." I say, deliberately blinding and deafening Rae so she'll be surprised. She's a nice girl, she deserves nice things every once in a while. This would definitely be one of those nice things she needs after putting up with three months of constant changes from me to her to me again.

"Are we?" he asks, surprised. "Who decided this?"

"I did. Rae's going stir crazy. She needs out before she goes comatose."

"What happens if she goes comatose?"

I shudder at the thought of it, but don't answer for a long moment, trying to think of how to put it so that he sees how urgent it is that we leave.

"Try to imagine losing your mind. I don't mean going crazy, I mean no longer being able to use your brain. Nowimagine being a vegetable, and not knowing it."

He stares at me for a long time, and then gets to his feet and grabs his own duffel, throwing his things into it. Whether he's doing it out of pity, or because of his still unknown feelings for Rae, it doesn't really matter to me as long as we leave.

An hour and a half later, we are on the docks, in line for a ticket.

I have only had Rae go comatose on me once before, and it was hell for me being stuck in a body that wouldn't not move on its own. It's like maneuvering a ship and all the controls have been written in gibberish. I barely got her to Falcon's, and on the way, I'd gotten her into a fight that she very nearly lost.

Well, she was a wreck anyway when I got her to Falcon's, and it had taken the girl almost a year to recover, including the gaining of consciousness. It helped at as soon as she experienced being stabbed in the back, she'd 'woken up'. Thank god I'd turned her a little, or the knife would not have missed her spine and gone between her lungs. There was still damage though, as is usual with a knife fight.

I was able to tell instantly that she was gone, too. It had been a sharp stab behind the eyes, like she was determined to take me with her. I'd gone temporarily blind from the pain. The memory is vivid.

I take my ticket and turn to find the dock when suddenly it happens.

STAB!!

"Eeeeaaaaauuuuuuggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!"

I clap both of my hands over my eyes and stumble, tripping over my own two feet on the free floating dock. All I can feel is white hot pain behind my eyes as my head explodes, aching horribly. I don't feel the hand on my belt, holding me over about three hundred thousand feet of empty nothing, and I don't hear the patrons around me panicking.

The throbbing of my brain doesn't go down for several minutes, and by now, Richard is calling my name frantically, confused as all hell. I open my eyes, but I don't see anything but the white, and I fell below me, surprised fear flashing across my features and staying there. I reach behind me in a flash and adhere my hand to Richard's wrist.

"Pull me up! Pull me the fuck up!!" I yell, not bothering to disguise the plain, rank fear in my voice. I feel myself being lifted and then set on the ground, and I clutch at the ground, breathing fast and rapid. "Richard?!" I say, looking around with sightless eyes and sitting on the ground as if I'll never let go.

"Daeva, what the fuck was that all about?" demands Richard, grabbing the hand I'm hysterically waving around in the air. I hold his hand in an iron grip and continue to blink and look around.

"She's gone, Richard." I say, and he stops. "She's gone. We have to go. Right now."