The Journey

She wasn’t sure how long it was, but she finally woke, back in her sleeping bag, next to a warm fire. It was dark, and she sat up slowly. Her head was nearly spinning, but she was able to force herself into a sitting position. As she looked around, she saw Riddick sitting with his back to her, looking off into the forest.

“Riddick?”

“You’re awake. You okay?”

“Bit sore, head hurts, but I’m okay…”

He stood and walked over to where she sat.

“Thank you.” She smiled a little, and touched his hand. “I’d probably be dead, or worse by now if..”

He shrugged.

She sighed softly. “Where were you?”

“Checking out the city. Heard your scream.”

She hissed in pain as she tried to lift herself out of the sleeping bag, and he put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t.”

He grabbed a first aid kit from the ship and returned. “Get that shirt off.”

She turned her back to him, pulling it up over her head with a grunt of pain, then with her arms crossed over her chest, she turned enough he could see the wound on her side.

“This is going to hurt. Not that deep at least.” He pressed a cloth to the wound, and she took a shaky breath, fighting the urge to smack him for the pain it caused. Deep or not, it hurt like hell, until he sprayed some sort of pain killer on it.

“Better.” She muttered, as he put gauze over the wound. She could feel his hands on her skin and shivered.

“There, should heal in a couple days.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. Her eyes were drawn up to the sky. “Mom told me about what it was like living here, before all of the death. It was beautiful.”

Shirt ruined, she wrapped a loose blanket around her shoulders and upper body.

“You should get some rest.”

“Not tired.” She smiled slightly. “Definitely don’t want to sleep right now.”

“Dreams?”

“Sorta.” She shook her head a little. “Don’t want to have more of them, and this place, it makes it worse, so many feelings here.”

He looked at her, eyes questioning, as his goggles were off.

“I can feel the pain, from the people who died, or didn’t die and saw their families die. The city absorbed it, the world absorbed it, and I can feel it.” She looked up at him. “Suppose you’re lucky like that. It is hard feeling pain that isn’t your own.”

He handed her a cup, full of some warm liquid that tasted sweet. She drank it down, wanting the warmth from it. She growled, eyes narrowing at him as she felt the drug flooding her system, and she fell into a deep sleep.

Screams from houses, gunfire. Children’s gurgling cries all around her. Anger, protect them, stop them.

“Why are you doing this?!” A mother’s cries as a soldier storms her home, holding her back as her child is killed in front of her eyes. Her husband unconscious on the floor, blood coming from his mouth and nose.

She screams and screams and….

Screaming her eyes fly wide open, blanket falling as she jumped up, eyes searching the shadows.

It took her a moment to realize that Riddick was sitting next to her, and when she did, she calmly picked her blanket back up and wrapped it back around herself.

“Told you.” She muttered before turning away from him and facing the fire.

She heard him move, but was surprised when she felt his arms slip around her waist. She leaned back into him, grateful for the strength that she could feel in him.

“I don’t like seeing what I see. Nights like this, when I see things that have nothing to do with me really, that hurts, because I know that I can’t do anything about it.”

She could feel him nod, his grip around her waist tightening. She responded by turning in his arms, looking up at him. She didn’t say anything, lifting a hand and pulling his goggles off gently.

He looked at her, her hand brushing his cheek as she pulled it back. Hesitantly she leaned up towards him, and softly kissed him.

He tensed behind her, and she put a hand on his arm.

“Don’t leave, please.” Her voice was soft, and she laid back against him, closing her eyes. Sleep came, and there were no dreams.