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Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. It's not worth it anyway.
Chapter 2: Fighting Confusion
Kyra stayed frozen, afraid to turn and see those shined eyes staring at her and what she'd become. Or worse, the goggles in which she could see it for herself. She was only speechless for a moment.
"You're supposed to be dead, I saw the obit myself." She said the words as evenly as she could manage through clenched teeth. Her head was spinning. She steadied herself on the chair next to her for fear of falling over from disbelief. So many emotions were rushing through her all at once; anger, fear, hatred, joy … elation? The last two she pushed aside for now. She could feel him shift behind her, she didn't have to see or hear it to know he was leaning against the wall with that ever-smug look across his face.
"See that's the thing about being dead; if you never find the body, you never really know, now do you." His voice was coarser than she remembered and it sent shivers down her spine. A swift rage took her over and she spun around to face him simultaneously grabbing the shiv from its usual place at the small of her back and went for him. He effortlessly took the shiv from her and threw it to the ground. He took her arm, spun her and trapped her between it and himself. She'd thought of being pressed up against his solid body so many times before, but not like this.
"Some welcome," His breath brushed her ear as he whispered the words with ice in his tone. She looked up at the stairs and saw Aziz staring wide-eyed at the scene through two of the slats. She couldn't draw his blood in front of Aziz. Kyra twisted out of his grip growling and ready to fight if necessary, but the tears that swelled in her eyes made her run out the door into the crowded street. Imam went to go after her, but Riddick stopped him.
"Don't! Let her go, she's pissed for good reason. She'll come back." Imam was hard pressed not to follow her, but he knew Riddick was right. How long it would take her to return was another story, and he worried for her safety and that of whoever may cross her in the meantime.
'Fight of flight really blows,' she thought as she fled the house.
Kyra felt her secret animal take control as she ran through the streets, tears blinding her and rage and fear coursing through her every vein. She couldn't feel the rocks jabbing at her bare feet, or the still cold morning biting at her exposed skin as she hadn't the sense about her to change out of pajamas before running out. All she could do was run. She ran from her emotions, and she ran from Riddick and his intense eyes and sharp tongue and what she knew he would have to say about her behavior of late. Most of all she ran for the simple fact that she didn't know how she felt, she wasn't in control, and that scared her. She was infuriated to the same point as when she had found out he was "dead". Enraged so that she thought her blood would boil and make her explode, she needed something (or someone) to take the pressure off.
Imam had taught her that anger was something to be embraced and learned from. Her inner animal taught her anger was something that had to be released into the world around her. And so she prowled, looking for someone to take the brunt of her wrath. It couldn't be just anyone; she did have scruples, after all. With an overconfidence of one who didn't care about life or death she stalked the back alleys and fleapits of New Mecca looking for a candidate to take her pain.
Imam said his morning prayers, taking extra care to beseech Allah to keep watch over Kyra. Riddick watched him, slightly amused. He'd never taken much stock in prayer, never had any reason to. Afterward the two men sat to talk over a small breakfast of sweet breads and fruit. They wouldn't be disturbed as Imam's wife was a teacher and Aziz had gone to school for the day. They could speak freely without interruption.
"Why?" Imam spoke the question directly, hoping it wouldn't provoke the man across the table from him. He had seen for himself what could happen when Riddick was rubbed the wrong way. He thought on the question as he swallowed his bite of apple.
"Wanted the mercs off my back for a while. I need a break; I'm tired of running and hiding out on wasted planets," Riddick chuckled softly, it would have sounded like a growl to the untrained ear, "Thought I'd come for a visit." Imam seemed satisfied; he certainly didn't want to push the issue.
"In truth, I had wondered if the papers were true," Imam began calmly setting his tea on the table "Allah has always seemed to have better things in mind for you." Imam smiled a small knowing smile.
"You were smart to keep your thoughts to yourself, holy man. She was better off not knowing." His tone was gruff, but Imam knew he meant nothing by it. Imam nodded.
"I thought telling her what I thought may be true would only make it harder if it turned out you really were gone. It-" Imam stopped, thinking better of it. There was a moment of silence between them.
"Spit it out, holy man," Riddick watched him with cool eyes as Imam fumbled with his words. Slowly he spoke his thoughts.
"It crushed her spirit to read that you were dead. I watched in anguish as the girl Jack withered away. Her warmth and her light were gone in mere days." Riddick noted that Imam seemed deeply, earnestly saddened by this, "How quickly she was replaced by this cold, distant woman, Kyra." Imam's words struck a chord in Riddick. He too had watched from afar as Jack died and Kyra was born from her ashes. He had hoped it was just a phase, but it was becoming far too permanent for his liking. Imam continued.
"My family is afraid of her now when we used to consider her another daughter. She used to read stories and play with my Aziz. My wife thinks I should cast her out for fear of what she will bring upon our house, but I cannot just turn my back and become another that has betrayed her." Riddick's eyes shot up. That one hit home.
"I did NOT betray her!" Riddick rose from his seat and glared fiercely at Imam, "I left her with you so that she could make something of herself here, because I knew it was too dangerous with me! I've got mercs on my neck! I'll always have mercs on my neck! It's only a matter of time before they figure out I fixed my own death and come after me again!" Imam was visibly flustered by his outburst.
"Settle, settle, please. I didn't necessarily mean you," Riddick sat back down, still bristled, "There have been countless others that have hurt her since she was small, but you took a piece of her when you left, whether you wanted it or not. This, you returning here, may be the straw that breaks her." Riddick thought on this for a minute.
"She's a survivor," he said quietly.
Kyra was exhausted when she finally returned home. 'Home,' she thought absently, 'I don't deserve a home after the way I've treated this one. I deserve a slam.' Her feet were torn and bleeding from the rocks and harsh ground. She didn't care. Her head throbbed, her muscles ached from the numerous fights she'd been in. She'd released her anger, but why did she still feel like killing someone? What was worse was she knew HE was still there. She could feel his presence inside the house, it was overwhelming but, still, she didn't care. She was too tired to run anymore. She stumbled inside and up the steps the bathroom to wash up, then to her little room where she collapsed onto her bed. She wasn't at all shocked to hear his voice from her doorway moments later.
"Long time no see, kid." 'That's nerve for ya,' she thought.
"I'm not a kid anymore, Riddick. Why couldn't you just-" she started to snap at him, but held her tongue.
"Any red blooded male could see that you're not a kid anymore. But go on ask it. Why couldn't I just stay dead?" he said it mockingly. Tears began welling in her eyes again. 'Oh no no no, done enough of that today.'
"Leave!" her voice barely sounded like her own, it was so harsh she almost didn't recognize it. Her throat hurt but somehow she'd managed to shout the word. There was silence for a moment.
"No," was the response from the door. She heard his steps coming closer to the bed. She sat up to protest but found herself speechless from the presence in front of her lit by the dim light of a few candles, since she'd never replaced the lamp she broke. She hadn't really gotten to look at him that morning. Not much had changed; he was still tall and well built. Still the same black getup, the goggles looked new though. And he still smelled like everything she'd ever imagined as male. She suddenly started trembling, not from anger, from something else. She hoped he wouldn't notice, but when he lifted his goggles the glow she saw reflected in his shined eyes told her that not only did he notice, he understood something she didn't. Her fury returned amplified by the confusion she felt.
"I thought you were dead," she whispered it at first, and then she yelled at him, "How could you do that to me! You son of a bitch, I thought you were dead! I thought you were dead! You BASTARD! I hate you! I HATE YOU!" She didn't bother fighting back the tears anymore. All her soreness disappeared into her frenzy and she hit at him taking out all her rage from the past five and a half years on the form in front of her. Finally she collapsed in a sobbing sniveling heap in front of him.
He wanted to yell back, berate her for the way she had treated Imam and his family after all they had given her. He wanted to shake her out of this shell of senselessness she had developed. He wanted to wrap his powerful arms around her and protect her from her demons. He wanted to kiss away her tears. Yet he couldn't bring himself to do anything but stand there and be her punching bag. Her eyes and her scent and her tears wouldn't let him.
'You puss, you're going soft!' he reprimanded himself.
'Only for her,' he defended inwardly.
'Bah! Puss is puss, next you're gunna be letting mercs off the hook.' He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts. He'd known long ago that she would be his eternal weak spot. He'd never had one before, but he knew on that nightmare of a planet when he had gone back for her and Imam (mostly for her) that she was going to be his Achilles' heel for the rest of his natural life.
Her eyes had haunted him for five and a half years. Jumping from planet to planet, all he had held dear to him was the memory of her eyes. When he'd last seen them they were full of guts and spirit, the very core of youth. Now as he tilted her chin up to look into her eyes he saw infinite sadness there, and a depth and soul that only a woman's eyes could hold. He turned to leave.
"Get some sleep Ja…Kyra. We got a big day tomorrow."
