A Thousand Shades Of Black

Chapter Four – Helion Prime

Riddick paced like a caged animal while the doctors worked on Kyra. Aereon followed behind him, as though she were drawn along in his wake. Alia sat pale and drawn in a window embrasure. It seemed to be a favorite sort of perch for her. She looked better than she had but was still far from completely recovered.

To Riddick’s continuing amazement, Vaako and Freet sat quietly in a corner.

Very little surprised Riddick anymore but returning to the escape ship and finding not only Aereon but also a group of Necromongers who had chosen not to cross over waiting for them had been a shock. Vaako had given him a half-rueful, half-defiant stare.

“Give me a hand, Vaako.” He had said and then directed him to the container holding Kyra while he hoisted Alia up in his arms and carried her from the fighter.

Vaako had obeyed without a word.

Alia’s black eyes had opened to him and she had stared at him for a long moment before giving him that wry little smile.

“Owe you again, Riddick.” She had murmured weakly and his relief had flooded through him like a tide. She hadn’t asked about Shirah and he hadn’t offered an explanation.

The next morning, the ex-Necromongers had appeared at breakfast in simple gray tank tops and pants with black boots. Riddick hadn’t asked what they were doing on the ship and they hadn’t offered an explanation. It was getting to be a trend.

Once they reached their destination, he simply forgot to mention who these folks were and no one questioned Riddick about them. The people of Helion Prime thought of him as a hero, the man who had saved their system from utter devastation. He could have paraded a horse about and called it his wife and no one would have cared.

The patter of small feet woke him from his reverie and a familiar face with curly dark hair peered around the corner at him. Dark eyes shining, Ziza grinned at him.

“Mr. Riddick!” She charged and threw herself headlong at him. It was pure instinct that made him reach and catch her before she harmed herself, but the end result was a small girl in his arms.

“Ziza,” he acknowledged her existence with a sigh. Served the old man right for telling her bedtime stories about dangerous felons. She’d probably grow up thinking he was one of the good guys.

“Is your friend better yet?” The child asked with her arms twined about his neck. She smelled of soap and little girl and the dust of the market.

“We’re waiting still,” he answered her blandly. Her mother rounded the corner and started, still intimidated by him, he knew. He would have put the child down, but some perverse demon of his nature made him swing her up onto his shoulders instead. He watched as Lajjun paled a little and then as she forced herself not to panic. Ziza shrieked with delight from her high perch, oblivious to her mother’s distress. Alia shot Riddick an amused look. She knew him too well, he thought with pleasure.

“Ziza, these are busy people, we should let them be.” Lajjun, her coffee eyes showing a bit more white than normal, was nervous and reached her hand out to where her daughter was perched on a murderer’s shoulders. She was trembling slightly and her hand shook. He decided then that the game had gone on long enough. It wasn’t fun anymore.

“Lajjun, do you know how many children I have killed in my life?” he asked her casually. Ziza leaned forward and peered down at his face in interest. She showed no sign of fear as he asked the question. She truly was her father’s daughter.

“N-no,” Lajjun stammered, her eyes darting to Alia who sat with casual ease and unconcern, then to Vaako and Freet who looked on with interest and finally at Aereon who frowned a little at Riddick. “H-how many?” she asked at last as the silence grew too large for her.

“Not one,” he answered and swung Ziza to the floor. She giggled as he did so and Lajjun let out her breath. “I’d never hurt a kid, Lajjun. Never.” He looked down at Ziza who looked up at him, still grinning. “Especially not the Holy Man’s kid,” he added. Lajjun was looking at him with something shifting behind her eyes, some thought that was bubbling to the surface.

“I’ve misjudged you, haven’t I?” she almost whispered and Riddick cocked his head at her.

“No, Lajjun, I am dangerous. You’re right about that, but I’m no threat to you or the kid.” He ruffled Ziza’s hair absently. “Imam trusted me to watch out for you both.” Ziza leaned against him, her chin on his thigh, arms wrapped around his leg, looking up at him as though he were the hero everyone thought him to be. Her dark eyes were smiling at him. Lajjun nodded and finally relaxed.

“As you say,” she agreed and her face was calmer now, less frightened, and then they all fell silent, waiting for the doctors.

Alia watched Riddick as he dangled Ziza upside down. The girl was giggling and shrieking and it made her think of a tiger playing with his cub. Riddick was sleek and dangerous and Alia could sympathize with Lajjun’s fears. Watching her child pouncing on this dangerous ex-convict who could kill Ziza in a dozen different ways before she could even raise a hand to stop him must be nerve-wracking.

That Riddick might harm the child had never occurred to Alia. If anything, the girl was safer with him than anywhere else in the known universe. It was strangely amusing to her that one of the most deadly people in the galaxy was presently engaged in making a small child laugh. Vaako caught at the child as she wriggled away from Riddick and the former commander chuckled as she darted between his legs. There had been no Necromonger children for a very long time and the little girl fascinated him.

Vaako was far less pale then he had been. The doctors had managed to undo much of the damage that the Purification had done to him and the others. They would always have a high pain threshold but they were starting to be able to really feel things again. The change in Freet was especially profound; she sat in the sunlight with a smile on her face, watching the two men roughhouse with Ziza.

Riddick made a darting motion and caught Ziza up again, swinging her around while she shrieked. Good thing the hospital was soundproofed, Alia thought.

A door opened and the doctor stepped out. The tableau froze as all eyes turned to him. A short swarthy man with very white teeth, he grinned at Riddick.

“She is doing very well now. You may come in and see her, if you like.” His lilting, accented words sent Riddick across the room and through the door in an instant, Ziza still in his arms.

Alia sat and waited with Aereon and the others, leaving Riddick his privacy. She gazed out the window at the sun streaming across the sky. The distant sound of wreckage being shifted and houses being hammered upon came to her as she waited. This world was being rebuilt. With the threat of the Necromongers gone, perhaps someday she could return to Furya and rebuild it as well.

Riddick set the child down on the edge of the bed and peered at Kyra.

“How you doing?” he asked. Kyra was looking at Ziza with pursed lips. Her eyes were still a little dreamy from the medications but she was alive and had none of the Necromonger paleness anymore.

“She looks familiar.”

“This is Imam’s daughter, Ziza,” he explained while the child watched Kyra with wide-eyed wonderment.

“I remember. Lajjun was pregnant when I left.” She looked at him, her eyes focusing a bit more on his face. “I feel great. Well, I’m not dead,” she corrected with a grimace.

“Which is a good thing.” He was asking a question, he knew.

“Yeah, it is,” she affirmed, allowing him to let out a breath in relief. “What happened?”

“Alia almost lost us. She was barely strong enough to drag both our spirits out of the Underverse.” Riddick decided to leave Shirah, or Alia’s own near death, out of it. “We made it to the escape ship and then hightailed it out of there. We’re on Helion Prime now.”

“Who is Alia?” Kyra was watching him closely. He shrugged.

“Another Furyan, like me. I ran into her some years ago while we were both in trouble.” Kyra frowned, but it was a thoughtful look.

“She’s like you?”

“Sometimes she’s a little too much like me,” he grumbled and Ziza frowned at him.

“I like her, she’s nice,” the little girl chided Riddick.

“And since your opinion is the only one that matters...” Riddick growled in mock irritation. “Brat,” he added. Ziza just gave him a sweet smile in return.

Kyra was eyeing him as though he had grown another head.

“You going soft, Riddick?” she teased him, her eyes still a little wide.

“You want to try me, Kyra?” He let the beast out at her, going utterly still and cold.

“No, no, just asking!” Kyra assured him, waving him away with her hands. Kyra looked relieved he thought, with a touch of ironic appreciation. Here was another person who liked the killer in him. Ziza snorted at her reply.

“No one messes with Mr. Riddick,” the little girl announced with absolute confidence in her chosen champion, her sandaled feet wagging behind her off the edge of the bed.

“Let’s hope so, kid. I’m looking forward to a vacation.” Kyra leaned back against the pillows and smiled softly at Riddick’s words.

“That sounds nice. Let’s go somewhere where the temperatures stay far below 700 and way above –300,” she murmured sleepily, referring to their time together on Crematoria.

“Fine by me.” Riddick scooped Ziza up off of the bed. He could see that Kyra was falling asleep and he tossed the little girl over one shoulder as he headed for the door. Ziza always seemed content to be hauled around like luggage, which amused him no end. A faint voice pulled his head around to look at bed behind him.

“Hey Riddick?” Kyra called after him.

“Yeah?” He studied the stubborn chin and sleepy brown eyes with satisfaction.

“Thanks for coming back for me…again.” The statement held everything: apologies for previous behavior, gratitude for her resurrection, everything he had needed to hear and never expected to receive. He nodded briefly in return.

“You didn’t think I’d just leave you, did you?” The words recalled another time when his face had meant rescue and safety.

“Never had a doubt.” She smiled and drifted to sleep and Riddick knew she would be okay.

A/N - This isn't going to be a Riddick/Kyra fic. Kyra is only seventeen to Riddick's thirty and the thought rather squicks me actually. :) Sorry.