There are too many memories, and they're overwhelming, distracting, driving him mad. But the touch of her skin grounds him (it always has he remembers then pushes that thought away) and the press of her fingers tethers him here in the now. This isn't a dream, this isn't prophecy or a nightmare. This is real and more important than all of that. Riddick shifts over her, even now always careful to not hurt her. He wants to touch every bit of her, slipping the hand that she's holding further down between them.