Disclaimer: Riddick, Kyra and their stories belong to D. Twohy, not me. This is a not profit story; merely a full-fillment of a fanfiction fantasy.
PG-13 just because...and 1 curse word
Its been this way since day one. Any tear or pout has to be fixed. I hate it when she hurts, which seemed to be all the time at first. I'm no hero, I always say to myself, yet every time, she tells me that I am.
I tap the faded blue pad, lighting it up and causing the door to slide back. I barely step in and it slides shut again. Have to fix the timer on that thing. Its all dark in the room, perfect time to take off my shades and look at the world on my own. Instead I step over and flick on the light switch. A dull glow fills the room as a single ray from a yellow bulb illuminates everything. There isn't much to see in here anyway. Just a locker, a set of drawers, a ratty reclining chair and a full sized bed.
I don't sleep very much anymore. Even if I did, she still would be in here. The second set of quarters, down the hall, isn't much to look at either. But it was a steel bunk attached to the exterior wall of the ship. I didn't want her to freeze to death as she slept. This bed came with a large down comforter and nice sized pillows. She's much better off in here.
Silent as always, I sit on the edge of the bed and watch.
She doesn't look anything like me. I don't care what Kyra says, she just doesn't. Tight brown curls, heart-shaped face and perfect smile? Not traits from me. I gave her only one thing and it looks better on her than it ever did on me.
I feel my chest get tighter as she inhales with a sob. Nightmares. I try soothing her without waking her at first. My fingers run through her hair, gently tugging each strand. I trace her cheek with my thumb, my palm resting on her jaw. But tears trickle down on my skin and it rips me inside.
"Just, wake up, baby," I call to her. She squishes her face up briefly before long eye lashes separate. I smile as best I can, wiping away the wayward tears from the most beautiful hazel eyes in the universe. "Bad dreams, baby?"
She nods with more tears streaming down her face. Without a word, she climbs into my arms, clinging to me as tightly as I to her. I inhale the scent of innocence and fear, sunlight and starlight, ginger and vanilla. Its her mother's favorite scent.
"Daddy," she cries softly, pressing her face further into my neck. "Daddy, stay with me. I'm afraid of the dark." She knows I can't refuse her. She knows her daddy can see in the dark, that nothing will get her when I'm there. I press a soft kiss to her hair, rubbing her back methodically.
After a short while, she's calmed. She's tucked under the blankets, curled up in my arms. Her breaths are even and her whole body relaxed as I continue to stroke her hair. Those hazel eyes were once mine, back before I got my ass handed to me in my first stay in slam. As I look down on this girl, Kyra and my daughter, Justice Jacquline Riddick, I know those eyes are mine again.
A/N: Although I have been neglectful of my other in-progress stories, I will update soon. I just needed to find my muse again. Review if you want. Thank you.
Until Next Time,
Anthestria