Darkness Leads the Way

Chapter 6


Are These Words All Just Lies?


By Chaosdreamer

A Chronicles of Riddick fanfic
Pairing: Slash Riddick/Vaako
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the rights to Pitch Black or Chronicles of Riddick. They belong to David Twohy and Universal Studios. *Pity*
Warning: Language, harshness. There will be violence and gore, so be warned.

Author's note: Some of you may or may not know, but I have a livejournal account now. Feel free to drop a message or just check out what wild and crazy things I'm doing. ^__^


< < < < <> > > > >


The doctor removed the stethoscope, satisfied by the healing state of Vaako's lungs, glad to hear no rattling or loose phlegm in the man's chest. He had been concerned about the possible chance of pneumonia, but was secretly glad that the Commander had been able to cough up all of the phlegm in his lungs, needed only antibiotics and rest without having to endure far more extensive and more painful treatment.

The female aide slid the last of the IV lines out of Vaako's arm, smiling slightly in apology for the vivid bruise left on the pale skin from having to endure such a prolonged period of needles forced through flesh. She carefully patched up the bruised and pierced flesh, murmuring softly to the Commander that it would take several days and a topical cream for the marks to disappear.

Doctor Quinn carefully pinched Vaako's skin, testing the elasticity, nodding in approval as the skin snapped back into shape almost instantly once released. "Much better, Commander. Good to see you no longer resemble a shriveled fruit and are not trying to cough your lungs out from underneath your ribcage."

His cool words went unanswered, Vaako dimly engaging the doctor's gaze, meeting the man's gaze dispassionately.

The doctor sighed in small defeat, "Your throat remains sore, however, and as you can tell, speech is very uncomfortable. Although I must admit it is partially brought upon by the night terrors induced from your fever; your screams nearly caused your throat to be scrapped raw."

Vaako merely sighed, head laid back on the crisp white pillow, turning his head away from the doctor.

The medical aide gaped in astonishment and horror when the doctor smacked Vaako alongside the head none too lightly, causing the Commander to jump noticeably.

"Don't start pouting, Commander. While I sympathize for what you went through, you represent the finest of the Necromongers. Don't dishonor that role. The future will not be easy for you, but I expect you to forge on past all your troubles. It is up to you whether you forgive the Lord Marshall or not, but remember, he could have left you on that planet to die a dishonorable death."

Doctor Quinn sniffed softly, unimpressed when Vaako whipped around to glare at him, "Good to see some fire in those eyes. And don't bother with that glare; you look like a spiteful child."

"You're not the first to have every suffered pain or trauma, whether it be to the mind or body. Both will heal, in time, but it all depends on how strong you are. Please don't disappoint me, Vaako." The doctor smiled, using the Commander's name, betraying their close relationship.

"…stubborn old man." Vaako growled softly, mindful of his sore throat.

The doctor stood, shooing away the medic in front of him with a paternal softness. He looked over his shoulder at Vaako, lined face and blue eyes shining in amusement, "This old man was the one who dragged your sorry ass from that putrid home planet of yours, forcefully dunked you into the baths, and had you dressed as one of the Necromonger elite. Shall we recount the fond memories, such as when I threatened to castrate you when you refused to remove those smelly rags you called clothing?" Vaako paled, then flushed with embarrassment, clearly remembering when the doctor had threatened to back up his promise if Vaako didn't 'drown his rat ass in the baths and burn those pathetic rags', Doctor Quinn's exact words.

Doctor Quinn grinned knowingly, "That's a good boy."


< < < < <> > > > >


News spread fast that the Lord Marshall had retrieved the Commander.

The Necromonger elite treated Vaako as if he were diseased, nearly plastering themselves to the walls and columns to avoid physical contact with the man. Men and women alike snickered and stared at the man through narrowed gazes, hands shielding their mouths as they whispered to one another, gossiping and arguing over the turn of events.

Vaako, appearing unperturbed by their actions, went about his own business, allowing his body to heal as quickly as it was able.

It was take much longer than he had hoped for his body to mend, let alone for him to be able to walk the various hallways without suddenly collapsing from exhaustion, the Commander hardly stunned by how little the elite acted out to aid him. He was, however, occasionally astonished to find several pairs of hands, all of them being fellow Necromonger soldiers and commanders, helping him to his feet. On one of his more difficult days, when he had not been able to regain the strength to hold his body upright, the soldiers had gone as far as to physically escort him to his rooms, one supporting him under each arm. They said nothing, asked no questions, tending to their Commander with no complaint or ill will, almost seeming to gain comfort in touching the pale and shaken man, as if assuring themselves that he was alive and functioning.

Activities through the day were horrendous, especially with the whispers at his back from the richly dressed and power-mongering high-class elite men and women whose only goals were to gain more power and prestige; they had associated well with Dame Vaako, when the woman had lived among them.

'The First Among Commanders is a broken man.'

'That's what happens when you oppose the Lord Marshall.'

'The traitor returns.'

But the worse was when it came time for everyone to have to return to his or her appropriate chambers in order to gain several hours of sleep.

There was barely any sleep available for the Commander, the man unable to rest easily, having to use the pillow to muffle his shouts and screams, making sure to lock the doors in case anyone heard him and tried to barge in.

He had been refused any drugs that would have put him into a dreamless sleep, the doctor adamantly against such things, saying that the Commander would only find himself addicted to the mind-numbing pills. And, the doctor promised with great seriousness, he would do more then shove liquid charcoal down his throat if he found the Commander overdosed from any medication provided by him or his staff.

Vaako was not surprised that he was put onto 'medical leave', as it was delicately put, not able to attend any of the meetings among the Commanders and the Lord Marshall. He felt useless, left with nothing to do, locking himself in his private quarters, skulking within his private library. He had secretly over time gathered a vast amount of texts from various worlds conquered and gone, his thirst for books and knowledge insatiable, especially after he had been awarded with being taught how to read by Doctor Quinn.

All that time away from the various meetings and gatherings among the Necromonger forces was nearly driving him mad.

But it was not like he was ready to jump at the prospect of being anywhere near Riddick.

Vaako made sure to have as much space between the Lord Marshall and himself as much as possible, hardly wishing to anger the man once again. He was certain that with his luck that he would be dropped once more onto that forsaken planet, this time with no light to speak of.

If the Lord Marshall ever made any overtures of mending the rift between them, they went unseen, Vaako going as far as to leave any rooms quickly and discretely as possible whenever Riddick appeared.

It was also as uncomfortable to be around the Lord Marshall's Hellhounds, Vaako carefully moving away from them whenever one happened to appear, ignoring the plaintive and questioning rumbling from several that obviously recognized him.

Vaako sighed, falling back to sit down on the richly decorated seat, having already removed his armor and placed it on its appropriate racks and shelves.

Everything was the same as he had left it, down to his wife's dresses still hanging in their closets and drawers, her vast jewelry cases spread out across the tables. Vaako reminded himself to deliver the jewelry to the wives or lovers of various commanders he knew and trusted, fully aware of how their partners secretly adored his late wife's luxurious items, certain that they'd be surprised and delighted by such gifts. The commanders would probably be suspicious of his actions, unsurprisingly, but soon dismiss them once they were certain that Vaako had no ulterior motives.

Vaako's own attire left much to be desired. His clothes were a bit looser than before, body still trying to mend itself and regain the weight it had lost.

‘Not like I voted for it. I didn't have much choice as to what my body had to endure.’ He thought bitterly.

Turning his head to the right Vaako groaned mentally, reading the ornate clock, finding that it was five o’clock in the morning.

He had been awake for over twenty-four hours.

Sleep was becoming more merciful, the dreams not as unrelenting in their pursuit to drive him mad.

It wasn’t sleep that terrified him so much that he didn’t dare to close his eyes.

The darkness was what nearly made him shatter and break into numerous pieces.

Sometimes Vaako would just pass out from exhaustion, falling into a restless sleep, but only when the lights were on, even with the little amount of rest the bright lights allowed him to gain.

His fatigue was noticeable, dark bruises under his eyes, skin pale and sickly, a faint trembling across his limbs, body unable to carry out daily functions if it wasn’t allowed the rest it properly needed.

One of the worse incidences almost a week ago, Vaako had once again passed out in his private rooms, all of the lights in his room turned on so that when he awoke, there would be nothing to be afraid of.

However, someone had failed to inform the Commander that maintenance crew would be within that section of the ship attending to working on several of broad expanses of wiring, fitting and fixing the electronics so that they were not a fire hazard and were working at full capacity.

The maintenance group had had to turn off the electricity in that section so that they would not have to endure the risk of being electrocuted while performing their duties, the Necromonger elite warned of the lights not being able to be turned on.

Vaako learned the hard way when he awoke to darkness all around him, blind and frozen, his mind assuming that everything had been a horrible and cruel dream, and that he was truly still on that horrible planet with those things right outside.

One of the maintenance people working to repair a long stretch of wiring nearly snapped his fragile tool into two pieces when the horrible scream broke his concentration, the person next to him jumping in surprise, dropping the metal box holding the rest of his necessary tools.

Soldiers had immediately descended upon the doors, pounding fists and weapons into the immovable barrier. Char, among the several other soldiers, had slammed his full body weight into the stubborn doors, only to be rewarded with a broad expanse of dark bruises across his shoulders for his effort.

The soldiers had ended up literally destroying the thick ornate door, blasting them off of their hinges, obliterating the difficult locking system as they fired large rounds into the thick plates of metal. The men were almost bowled over by the medics and Doctor Quinn, who had just arrived, having been informed of the sudden incident that was occurring within Vaako's chambers.

The men brave or stupid enough to enter the bedchambers found the room almost impossible to navigate in the dark, several almost tripping over their own feet, one by accident falling across the Commander.

The man's screams escalated as he fought the sudden weight on top of him.

Five men were needed to hold Vaako down, the medics ducking to avoid wild swings, trying to escape being victims themselves, wanting only to administers sedatives that would calm the raving man down.

They had been shocked, and obviously, in awe, when the Lord Marshall appeared out of nowhere, shouldering them all aside, medic and soldier alike, "Stop fluttering around and just help him." He snarled, with a swift swooping motion gathering Vaako up in both of his arms, one under his knees and the other supporting his back. He seemed unperturbed by the twisting and kicking man in his grasp, merely pressing the man's mouth against his collarbone, allowing him plenty of air to breathe but muffling his screams.

"Quickly." Doctor Quinn snapped, briskly following the Lord Marshall, almost running to keep up as they stormed towards the medical ward, staff running to catch up as well.

It had taken several hours for Vaako to have calmed down enough to breathe regularly and stop shaking, Doctor Quinn ordering no one to administer any sedative, so that his body was forced to recover on its own.

With great embarrassment and eyes cast away Vaako had stumbled out of the ward, tail between his legs, ignoring the hand that the Lord Marshall held out to assist him. Nearly running back to the sanctuary of his private chambers, ignoring the calls from the maintenance personnel that the lights were finally functioning, asking if he required his assistance any further. He bodily avoided the familiar soldiers that called out to their Commander, confused and lost as the man that led them, almost equal in power, in their eyes, as the Lord Marshall, fled from them, slamming the doors shut behind him with a loud and final sound.

The memories of that time were still too fresh. Vaako rolled over, grabbing a plush pillow, hugging it to his chest, curled up on the wide seat.

'What have I been reduced to?' He asked himself privately. 'The First Among Commanders, reduced once again to the little boy he had left to die on that miserable planet he had once called home. How ironic.'

'Sometimes…' He began, hesitating, not eager to continue, even silently.

'Sometimes…I…'

'Sometimes I wonder if I would have been better off dead.'


< < < < <> > > > >


*Smack*

The sound of flesh striking flesh was shockingly loud, the soldiers standing at attention in the main hall and throne room wincing at the sound, watching the sleek and richly dressed form stumble to the floor from the unforgiving blow, the slight blonde male gasp and clutch at his bruised cheek, face painted by the blood running from his broken nose.

Riddick stood tall, like an enraged demi-god, on the third step from the stairs leading to his seat, silver eyes flashing in the special lighting, gauntlets creaking as his muscles flexed and bulged, hands clenched tight at his sides as he glared down at the trembling man. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?" When he was met with no reply, he barked, "Did you?!"

"I-I don't know what you-you're talking about…" The man sputtered, cringing underneath the Lord Marshall's unflinching gaze.

"And now you lie to me." Riddick growled, nearly pounding marks into the ground as he stomped down the stairs towards the weak man, moving with fluidity and rage that seemed to flow off of his skin, creating an almost visible miasma of danger around him. "Not only do you lie, but you make you're actions too obvious. You wish to not only see me dethroned and dead, but to take the seat as Lord Marshall as your own." Coming to stand in front of the crouched Necromonger, one of the high members of the richer society, he reached down with a rough hand, grasping a tight handhold on the man's hair, yanking his head up so that their gazes met. "What makes you think that a pus-bag like you and your cronies can lead the Necromongers to glory?"

Riddick smiled nastily at the man's widened shocked gaze, "Yeah, I know all about your little friends too. Plotting behind my back. Too bad you guys are such amateurs. You wouldn't have lasted a day in Butcher Bay. Guys like you would have been eaten alive."

The man coughed, blood trickling down his chin, grunting at the tight grip on his hair and scalp, "A breeder like you is not fit to lead us!" He hissed.

"Ah, so he does have a little fire." Riddick noted, not amused.

"Not only can you not lead," The man ranted, knowing his fate was sealed, his fellow conspirators most likely already dead, but the Lord Marshall's hands or his damn beasts. "But you can't even back up your sentencing of a slow and unhonorable death of one single man." He grinned up at the Lord Marshall's furious expression, laughing at seeing the man's palatable rage, "What kind of leader stumbles and runs about to recall his own orders?"

His laughter was ended coldly and abruptly when Riddick closed his hand over the man's mouth, and with one easy and rough wrench and twist, breaking the man's jaw.

The man's scream of pain and agony was muffled by his own damaged mouth, his hands clawing and scratching at the floor, marking it with signs of his distress.

"I won't waste my hands on you by killing you." Riddick snarled, glaring down at the broken man, "However, you will be denied any medication or aide from the hospital. Anyone who assists you will be punished just as equally. If you're lucky, maybe you'll figure out how to set up your own IV so that you won't starve to death or die from lack of water. Better yet, maybe you'll just off yourself, so that you won't have to look in the mirror to see the mark I leave on you, for everyone to see, exactly what happens to people I don't like. And what's really the sweet part of the deal," Riddick leaned close, his whisper only loud enough for the man to hear, "You'll never be able to utter a complete coherent sentence for the rest of your life, reduced to a mumbling man that no one will take seriously. You, a great, and power, rich illustrious member of the higher society of the Necromongers, reduced to this, by your own mouth."

Riddick stood, turning away from the mewling man, "Drag him so that he is far enough out of my sight. Then leave me alone. I need time to think." He ordered, not caring to listen to the sounds of the soldiers complying, two roughly dragging the beaten man outside of the vast chambers, the last of the soldiers sealing the room shut behind him.

With a bone-weary sound Riddick returned to his seat, sprawling across it, chin resting within the palm of his hand, glaring at one spot on the floor.

"If you're not careful, you're face will freeze like that." A voice warned behind him.

"Wondered when you'd come out of your hiding place." Riddick grunted.

Doctor Quinn stepped out from behind a pillar, moving to stand beside the brooding Lord Marshall, "A vicious display of dominance. You made a fine example of the leader of those whining little rebels. I applaud you."

"Some people would be shocked to hear such calloused words from a seemingly kind old man." Riddick commented.

Doctor Quinn smiled down at the Lord Marshall, face bright but eyes cold and empty, "Those stupid enough to fall for such a façade are not meant to live too long, at least as leaders of the pack."

"Good point." Riddick agreed.

"Hmm." Doctor Quinn hummed, hands folded behind his back, white hair falling in a bright halo around his forehead and temples, "You seem frustrated as of late. This is showing when you are punishing those who wish to overthrow you."

"You know why." Riddick growled.

"Ah yes. Lord Vaako." He said simply.

"I hurt him. I'd deserve if he came to hate me, if he'd want to kill me. I made a terrible mistake," He clenched the other hand that rest in his lap, lips twisting into a fierce angle, "And I don't know what I can do that could possible make up for such a fucking thing."

Doctor Quinn sighed, "I must say I am disappointed in."

Riddick glared up at the man, not commenting on the doctor's assessment.

"I'm certain that you never expected any of this to go over easy, but do have a little bit more optimism. You're depressing the hell out of me."

"If you know so much, then tell me what I need to do then!" Riddick ordered.

"Lord Vaako will need you now more than ever." Doctor Quinn said, suddenly, breaking through Riddick's anger.

"I think he'd rather I'd disappear from this galaxy."

"He's afraid of you, yes. With good reason. He probably expects you to toss him back on some foreign planet if he even looks at you the wrong way." Doctor Quinn said with all honesty, "However, Vaako has been damaged by his experience on that planet, returned to the weak and helpless position that he had had as a young child on his home planet before his as Purified and become a Necromonger. This experience, in the long run, would only make him stronger, if he were only able to recover from it."

"What can I do?" Riddick asked, rising to stand, facing the Doctor.

"You," Doctor Quinn turned, meeting Riddick's gaze, almost eye-level with the well-built man, his posture straight and presence great, shockingly so for a man of his appearance, "You must make your error known, your grief and guilt must be told, even if Vaako does not wish to listen. You must calm him, soothe him, like a wild and injured beast. Coax or seduce him back into your arms, heal him, but know that at times you must show your position, your dominance and power over him, as a man and as the Lord Marshall."

"Vaako is capable of leading, but he has no desire to be Lord Marshall. He'd rather follow a good leader then to follow a foolish one. The same goes for when he takes on a lover." Doctor Quinn grinned at the Lord Marshall, like a shark amused at how the fish scattered in front of it, "Rarely will he initiate anything. He waits and anticipates what will take place. So then, my Lord, like I said before, admit your mistake to him, understand that it will take more than one day for you to be forgiven for any of it. Heal him, make him whole, perhaps even better than before, more enlightened and aware of his strengths and weaknesses. And then, even if you have to bind and gag Vaako, make it certain that it is you and only you that owns and commands him, in body, mind, and soul." Doctor Quinn tilted his head further in Riddick's direction, "Just as much as he will own and command you."

Riddick was, by any other word, stunned by the doctor's vast speech, but he felt something inside him swell and answer to the command, wanting to atone for his mistakes, in whatever means, and claim Vaako as his, and only his, "You would have been a powerful adversary, if you had had the desire to challenge for Lord Marshall."

Doctor Quinn laughed softly, amused at the younger man's words, "Oh, how little you know. I was not originally a doctor, my Lord. In order to save lives, I must first know how to end them."

"You were a murderer? An assassin?" Riddick asked.

"Far worse than that, I'm afraid." Quinn sighed, brushing away long bangs with one hand, "You're looking at the second to last Purifier. The Purifier you had met while the former Lord Marshall was still alive, was my disciple."


< < < < < > > > > >


There were no words to describe Vaako's shock as the Riddick suddenly appeared before him, the Commander cursing his misfortune and his stupidity for having decided to brave venturing outside his chambers, feeling safe enough to roam the halls without any incidents.

The silver gaze pierced him, seemingly peering inside of him, past his loose clothes, the continuos black sets of clothing making the Commander appear death-like. Riddick looked ready for battle, adorned with his gray gauntlets and gloves, as well as the sleeveless thick fabricated shirt that also acted as a light form of armor.

Before he could utter a word his wrist was grasped within a tight unmoving grip, the Lord Marshall nearly dragging him, pulling the long-haired man along, ignoring those who dared to stare after them.

"My Lord?" Vaako questioned uncertainly, trying to keep up, finding himself unable to navigate where they were going. "Please, I don't know what I have done wrong-"

"You have done nothing wrong, Vaako." Riddick cut in, "I'm the one who has to atone for so many things."

Stunned by such a revelation from powerful figure of the Lord Marshall, Vaako meekly allowed himself to be pulled into a large well-lit vacant chamber, numbly noting Riddick sealing and locking the door behind them.

"What is this?" Vaako found himself demanding.

"A place we can talk." Riddick answered.

"I don't feel like talking." Vaako said softly.

"Unfortunately, that's not an option."

Vaako moved away from Riddick, facing away, leaning against the far wall with his forehead pressed to the cool metal, "Please leave me in peace."

"There is no peace, Vaako. As men, Necromonger, Furyan, fighter, murderer, there will never be peace. Fuck, we don't know what peace is. We're too much for civil society to handle, and I know that both of us don't want to give up who we are, no matter what anyone else thinks."

Vaako had to agree to that, a slight smile breaking across his face. "Wild beasts among the caged beasts of society."

"Exactly."

"You're avoiding whatever it is you wanted to say." Vaako noted.

"More like stalling." Riddick responded.

"At least you're not lying."

Vaako stiffened when he felt the firm form against his back, head jerking back in surprise when black gloved hands fell over his which rested against the wall, fingers threading through his, cool pressure versus the solid warmth at his back from shoulder to thigh.

"I've made so many terrible mistakes. Those mistakes made me the man I am today. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. But the mistake I made, thinking you had betrayed me, ignoring your efforts to explain, sentencing you to a torture that did unimaginable things to you….nothing I can say will possibly make up for that." Riddick said against the back of his neck, breath rusting the soft thick black tail of hair.

Vaako swallowed, holding his tongue.

"Maybe it would make sense. That bitch Dame Vaako, she didn't surprise me. Hell, it's only fair that the First Among Commanders, whoever he is, would soon grow a taste for more power. But you, Vaako, it didn't matter what position you had. Be it a regular soldier or commander, your loyalty is to the person you deem fit to lead, and no other. Some governments and cultures would pay any amount of money to have such loyalty, but you, you want nor expect anything in return." Riddick leaned close, trapping Vaako within the space between his spread arms, "And in return for such a gift, and I gave you the gift of an unfair trial and unjust sentence."

"I don't expect you to forgive me. Hell, I don't deserve it. But at least tell me that you've listened and accept my apology, no matter how inadequate these words are." Riddick asked, no, begged.

Vaako could hardly believe that Riddick, a killer, the Lord Marshall, the man that he was, would ever beg for anything, whether it was even his own life.

And to beg for something from Vaako…

But he couldn't forget what had happened. Any of it. He had been broken, shattered, torn down to the most basic and most primal level, and had found himself weak and afraid.

As a man, as a Necromonger, that was beyond disgrace. In his life before a Necromonger, it was certain death.

"Give it back to me…" He ordered softly, voice muffled with his head ducked.

"What?" Riddick asked.

"Give it back to me…If you want my forgiveness, then give me back the thing that made me strong! Made me the First Among Commanders! I don't want to be so weak and afraid! I hate feeling like this! I hate it!! I hate it!! I hate it!!" With each exclamation Vaako found himself rocking violently, Riddick restraining him to keep him from smashing his skull into the wall.

"I can't give that to you, Vaako." Riddick said with complete honesty.

Vaako wasn't certain whether he laughed or sobbed at the man's answer, legs almost buckling underneath him, strength seeming to drain inside of him, "Then I am nothing…"

"I can't give you what you already have." Riddick cut in.

"What are you talking about." Vaako demanded roughly.

"These…" Riddick took a small step back, drawing Vaako with him, raising their still entwined hands for both of them to see, "You're hands hold the same strength that you had when I first met you. Nothing has changed, no matter how horrible it may seem. There are wounds on your flesh and on the inside, but with time and trust, we can mend them. You are Cylus Vaako, First Among Commanders, and always will be. I hurt you, broke you, damaged you. Let me help you. Let us both pick up the pieces caused by my stupidity, and together, we will be as we are, but so much stronger and better, together."

"I don't think I can." Vaako admitted.

"Don't think. Just do it." Riddick ordered.

"So simple." Vaako murmured.

"No. It isn't." Riddick replied, "Sometimes it just seems easier and best just to give up and die. But then, what would we have?"

Nothing.

The word went unsaid.

Give up and attain nothing. Fight and, worse possible case, attain nothing. But if we fight, there is still that chance of attaining something, no matter how small or mild.

'Maybe, just maybe, I can do this.'

'I don't want to be afraid.'

'I just want things to return to they way they were.'

'If not that, at least make it to where you just don't want to wake up at all.'

Vaako leaned his face into the touch as gloved fingers ran along his cheek and jaw, that hand, the same hand that could crush and break bones, carefully turning the man to face him, one hand still held tight within the Lord Marshall's.

Riddick almost seemed to be breathing in the air around Vaako, lips brushing along the man's shuttered eyes and across his forehead, fingers rising to smooth strands of long hair away from Vaako's face, "Beautiful." Riddick murmured in wonder.

Vaako didn't turn his face away or rest as lips pressed further along his face, ignoring the dampness flowing against his will from his eyes to be caught by Riddick's fingers, drying the wetness away as the Lord Marshall's lips sealed over his jugular, marking him, claiming him.

'But I've marked you as well,' Vaako swore, 'My tears, whether by my wish or not, are permanently staining your skin, and will never disappear. The marks left by both of us will never allow us to forget anything, whether good or bad.'

'Maybe with an honest and blunt reality such as that, maybe we can heal the mistakes.'

Knowing that his actions would bring upon an uncertain future and with yet so much potential, Vaako carefully raised his arms, draping still-mending limbs over Riddick's shoulders, tilting his head to allow Riddick to mark even more of his skin.

"Tell me, again and again, just how strong and great we'll be together." Vaako commanded softly.

Riddick wound his arms around Vaako's waist, pulling him close and tight, "We'll conquer and survive everything. Nothing will stand in our way." Over and over Riddick swore their combined strength, howling inside at the glory and feel of the familiar body once again within his arms.

"With promises like that," Vaako murmured, "I think this might actually work out in the end."


TBC


< < < < <> > > > >

Author Note: Not the ending! Still must go on! Much loving and entertainment and healing ahead! Hope people weren't freaking out or worrying about this fic closing so soon. ^__^