TITLE: And Forgive Us Our Trespasses...
AUTHOR: Mira Westing
FANDOM: Pitch Black
PAIRING: Riddick/ofc
RATING: R for sexual depictions
DISCLAIMER: The Characters of Pitch Black are copyright to USA Films. There is no infringment intended by the use of them in this story. I claim none of those characters.
SUMMARY: A peek into Riddick past. This fic assumes that Riddick was not moved to max security until a few years before his escape. I know he says he spent half his life in a slam but he doesn't ever say max security. And this is MY world.
Notes: *** - marks flashbacks
The little skiff bobbed along lazily in the shipping lane. It had been three days but, so far, their distress call had no takers. Imam, for his part, spent his time mostly in prayer or sleep. Jack and Riddick were less fortunate. They talked rarely, leaving far too much time for contemplation.
Riddick on his sins, Jack on her losses and the uncertain future. Imam, she was sure, would take her in but she was no pilgrim and after what she'd seen on that planet she wanted nothing to do with religion. Besides she was not about to become a replacement for the boys the holy man had lost. It was not her style to be anyone's crutch.
But she was not crazy about the idea of being a burden either and it was hard to imagine she would be anything else to Riddick. Assuming that he'd even be willing to take her with him wherever he was going. He had not volunteered the possibility and she had not asked. It was her uncertainty that prompted the cautious question.
"Where are you going if we ever get rescued?"
"Ever heard of a piece of rock called Colony Prixus?"
Jack nodded emphatically. "Lived there when I was little."
"Remember anything about it?"
"Sure."
Riddick gave her an appraising glance, then his eyes turned back to the stars outside the main viewport. "That might be helpful." Jack resisted the urge to whoop with joy - he WAS taking her with him. "I know someone there."
"Friend?"
He shrugged. "We knew each other in a work camp I did a stint in before max security."
"Is he going to be happy to see you?" The idea of Richard B. Riddick having friends was a foreign concept.
"Doubt it but she'll take you in. She served her time."
She he was not going to keep her with him. Jack fought the tears welling up in her eyes. "You're just gonna dump me an run?"
"Ain't that easy, Kid. Like I said, I don't know that I'll be welcome."
"Then why go there?"
The silence seemed to stretch out for a very long time while Riddick considered his answer. "I owe her." The far away tone in his voice warned Jack not to question his further.
***
In the beginning it was the most basic of agreements - sex for medicine. The first time Riddick screwed her, fast and hard behind the kitchen, he could not even remember her name. All he knew was that she tasted as fresh as she looked and she was tight - very tight.
The medicine - morphine and an antibiotic - he easily stole from the camp's surgical unit and she quickly used on a dying woman, her mother. She came back only hours later. He could still smell her on his own skin but he did not care. In the work camp, copulation was looked upon as a necessary evil. The place did not run without both sexes so the guards allowed those who could manage a tryst to fuck in peace.
And Riddick liked to fuck.
He did not like the women who frequented the camp - cold, hard, barely female. Moira was different. She swore she had not killed her father and, after many months, Riddick came to believe her. She was clean and refined; the sort of woman he would never have encountered on the outside. But inside Camp 10W-23, she needed him to survive. Later, much later, he would wonder how she felt that first time as he wordlessly rammed himself into her over and over. It was animal and primitive and she was anything but. She'd sold the only thing she had left and he'd bought it without guilt. The deal worked in her favor although she probably never knew it. As soon as word spread that she was Richard B. Riddick's personal property, she was never touched by a soul again. She might have given Riddick her cherry but that saved her from countless violent encounters. And he got off on the fact that non one else could have her. She could not have been more than eighteen; a newcomer to the prison lifestyle but she'd played her cards better than most.
Two months in she even began to enjoy the sex. Riddick could tell by her guttural moans and the way she squeezed her thighs around him as he thrust. It was then that he began to mutter her name as his climax grew near. Moira. Moira. No one else.
He stopped fucking the others and started giving Moira more than she asked. If she looked hungry, he fed her. If someone so much as looked at her cross-eyed, they suffered.
Before the evening meal early in the Earth month of October he went down on her. He'd never felt a woman react so strongly. Sex after that was mind-blowing - something from which he had to recover. He thought about her and he got hard. He allowed his control to slip, taking her whenever he wanted.
He also talked to her. On the outside she'd been a middle-class data-entry clerk. She'd worked nights so that she could take care of her terminally ill mother during the day. Money had gotten tight and Moira had made the easy decision to throw in with her boss on an illegal but highly profitable numbers scheme. Riddick did not understand the particulars but he could recognize the aspects of the lang-arm con in her explanations. Stocks, bonds, heavy money. But, she had not known with whom she was dealing. When she got too good at her trade, became too much of a competitor, her boss had taken her out of the running. He'd managed to drudge up the father Moira had not seen in ten years. When Charles Amaya had been told of his daughter's scheme, he'd wanted a piece. Moira had given it to him, happy to get off so easily.
When he was found dead the authorities called it blackmail murder. Moira never really had a chance in the courts. Everyone wanted to believe that the pretty little girl from the right side of the tracks had killed her father. When she'd told Riddick the story, she'd sighed at the end.
"I don't mind that he's dead - I spent my childhood wishing for it. I hope it was a painful death.." She'd shivered from the cold or her own words. "I just hate that I didn't do it. If I have to be here, I should have gotten to kill him."
He'd known her for a year when she said that. They were word she would not have spoken twelve months earlier but time inside had changed Moira. He'd watched light from the small window play across her faced as they'd lain together on the floor of the small laundry closet. She'd looked older than she had just a few moths prior. "Don't start the killing. You're better than that." Quiet advice was all he'd been able to offer her. The truth of his life, already lost on him.
"Just talking, Rick. They're just words."
"Your words are all that you have left, Moira." His hand had been so large curled around her cheek. He'd known then that their time together would be short, life snuffed out pleasure. Moira was pleasure. Without warning, she'd snuggled closer to him, perhaps with an awareness similar to his own.
"For you," she'd whispered, "For you."
***
Five years later he still did not know what she'd meant by that but he was going to find out.
Chapter 2
They were rescued on the fifth day. A
rather unsympathetic mining team took them as far as Prion Station.
Neither group was sorry to part but Imam compensated the miners for
their time and trouble. It was a thinly veiled bribe for their silence
but the miners knew a good thing when they saw it and the money bought
Riddick time if nothing else. From looking at him, Riddick would never
have guessed that Imam was wealthy but maybe he should have. One passage
to New Mecca was expensive - Imam had booked four.
"Holy man, no offense but you might not want to sling that cash
around once we get on the move again."
Imam nodded. "We must buy a transport and then, Mr. Ri- Johns, I will take your advice."
"We?" Presumption was not something that Riddick could say he'd been subject to much in the past.
"You, the child, and myself."
If Riddick had been inclined to argue, he would have but he had already decided that Jack was coming with his as far as Colony Prixus. Another tag-a-long would not slow him down any more than he had previously calculated for - especially if Imam was willing to pay for a ship. "The main landing pad should have some ships on sale. Nothing flashy, just solid, okay? Do you know anything about mechanics?"
"Enough. Allah will lead me in the appointed direction."
Riddick held his breath for a full count of five. "Take Jack. She's probably a better judge of heavy metal than your God."
He scanned the small landing bay. Not much in the way of credible dealership but that was probably in his favor. Better to operate on the edge of legality for awhile. "I'll get the supplies. Meet back here in two hours."
"Two-"
"Yes."
Imam did not argue. Sometimes it was safer to just agree when a man had his mind set.
***
She smiled at him from across the yard. Riddick did not smile back but
Moira did not expect it of him. Two years had taught her the boundaries
of his affection for and tolerance of her. Neither, it seemed, ran very
deeply. But Moira knew better than to ask for or even want more. He
gave her what he could. It was not the kind of endless love that she'd
once read about in books but, on the inside, it was more than most girls
got. Moira had learned to live with it. Beyond that - she had learned
to be contented by it -- by him.
Prison was less enjoyable to Moira. The dirt, the smell, the violence even, one got used to with time but nothing would ever teach her any relief in the complete absence of freedom. It was part of what kept her anchored to Riddick - he had the same longing for life outside of the cage as she. Even that, the passion for self-determination, was rare in those with long terms. If Moira was in for the rest of her natural born life she knew she would never stop feeling the overwhelming loss. Riddick was the same.
It was not the only thing that they shared. Moira had noticed how they both worked from a place of utter selfishness. No one had ever told her that friends in a place such as the camp were detrimental; she'd figured it out on her own. Moira was still a relative newcomer to the inside life but she never made friends. It was not worth the trouble - grow to like someone and they can be used against you in any number of ways. Of course, her association with Riddick was another matter entirely; he was not someone to ever worry over.
"Lost in thought?" He was trying to make her jump but Moira would not give him the satisfaction despite her genuine surprise.
"Grow up, Rick. You're late." Their usual meeting place was as constant as their meeting time. O100 hours, basement of the laundry.
He just grinned wickedly at her. "Lost track of time."
"My ass," she countered sarcastically.
"Well, that's definitely the only reason I came."
"Fuck you."
"That, too."
Moira rolled her eyes. He was only crude when he felt at ease. Not a charming habit but one that she had come to understand. When there were time limits on their visits, there was little banter between them. He had obviously arranged something a little extra tonight as he had not even laid a hand on her yet. "What's the story, Morning Glory?"
"I bought us the night." He'd done it before: bribed the guards to look the other way during bed checks for both himself and her. It was a tidy little service they provided, and an expensive one. But it meant full privacy and at least six full hours. Compared to the tight twenty minutes they'd been pulling lately, it was an eternity.
"Got something special in mind, Killer?"
He hated her nicknames. During the really hard nights when she was most lonely in her little cot just laying waiting for morning, she comforted herself by inventing new ones. It passed the time, maybe, once or twice, it had kept her alive. Riddick placed his large hands on her less than large shoulders and pushed her until her back was flush with the wall. She watched his deep chocolate eyes speak absolutely nothing while telling her all she'd ever needed to know. She'd never learn anything from what his facial expression gave away but it did not really matter. What he had been telling her from the very beginning was that his hand of cards did not make any difference. As long as she knew in her heart that she held the winning deal, she had all she should ever want.
"It's a nice night to try something new."
"I wasn't aware there was anything left." She ran her fingers up his arms.
"Can't know until we try."
Her laughter was probably heard in the male bunkhouse but no one protested. At least Riddick would get his money's worth.
It was the last night they ever spent together. He saw her just once more but from afar and only for an instant as she was loaded, in chains, into the transport that took her halfway across the galaxy.
***
Chapter 3
***
Next to Riddick, Malcolm Diston was the most feared man in their work
camp. He was almost as big as Riddick and had almost as many kills to
his name. The only thing that kept him from being the worst of the worst
was the persistence Richard B. Riddick's distasteful personality...and
the danger to back it up. On the whole, the two men maintained a mutually
respectful distance but even on the occasions when they crossed paths,
they rarely spoke. So, Riddick was reasonably wary when Diston approached
him in the mess hall the night after his last encounter with Moira.
"Riddick." The large thickly browed man intoned the word with a sort of off-handed menace.
"Diston." Riddick matched the other's tone.
"Your gal-"
"Yes?" Riddick let no one speak of Moira in his presence, he never had. Even Diston would be wise to hold to that rule. But Diston did not back down.
"They're shipping her out tonight. To Prixus."
Prisoners were often moved from one camp to another but not without reason. Moira had given no one cause to relocate her. "You must have the wrong woman."
"The little red-head. Hard to miss, Riddick."
"Where do you get your information?"
"Directly from the source. I wouldn't give this to just anyone. At least not for free." He inclined his head and started off in the opposite direction.
Before he could go, Riddick fired off one more question, "Why her?"
"It's Prixus, man. You know why."
And Riddick did.
Suddenly he wanted very much to give up the knowledge he'd worked so long and hard to acquire.
***
The timing of the knock at the door did not startle Moira. Gary had
a lot of friends and associates that visited late at night. A smuggler,
no matter how close to the edge of legitimate, did not conduct business
through strictly conventional channels. Moira had learned long before
to let her guard down about such dealings. She could not spend her life
fearing the unknown - she would not allow it, she had too much to protect
now. All the same, she did not head directly for the door once she slipped
out of bed. Gary was not at home tonight and while she was not afraid,
there was no harm in caution. She glided soundlessly down the hall and
easily found the rifle she and Gary kept in the hall closet under magnetic
lock. The weapon fit neatly on her hands, against her shoulder. She
crept to the door. The view screen had blown out two weeks prior and
she had been in no hurry to fix it, she now regretted that move.
'No real problem,' she comforted herself, 'this probably isn't anything at all.'
The old-fashioned hinged door pulled back easily, half shielding her body with its bulk. The first person she saw was a slight little girl with an unfortunate haircut. The large black man behind her was not so much a surprise as the girl had been but he was not familiar. The third figure, hidden mostly in shadow, standing several steps behind the others was enough to shed a light on the nature of the visit. She pulled the door back the rest of the way as she lowered her rifle to her side.
"You must be fucking crazy to come here. There are people looking for you."
Riddick stayed where he was but when he spoke he seemed to draw closer to her. "I have a favor to ask. Can I come in?" If she denied him entrance, he would leave and never look back. Moira knew this.
She studied his face. It had not changed as her own had. Richard Riddick looked just as he had the day she'd met him five years before. She had grown more mature, filled out into curves instead of angles. Not Riddick. But, then, he had been mature when she'd met him.
"Come in before you get us all killed."
Even Riddick had not taken a full step when the pit-pat of bare feet sounded behind Moira, running fast and pointedly. Jack tensed, Imam backed up a step, Riddick paused. Moira simply turned her back to the door and scooped the little girl into her arms muttering comforting phrases that no one but the child could understand.
When she turned back to them Riddick found himself staring into the eerily constant gaze of the three year old girl. Staring into deep brown eyes that he had known all of his life - the eyes he had never thought to see again since he had altered them with a 'shine job' years before. His eyes.