A/N: Well, hello. Welcome to Part Two of Three times Riddick lost Carolyn and one time he didn't. I didn't expect to write this, but I was watching an episode of Banshee lat night and today I was late for work trying to finish this up. Apparently, Riddick 3 left quite an impression on me (yay for how my brain works!). So, there you go, enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: not mine. Oh, and there might be some mature, irresponsible reference people might find offensive. Just sayin'.
- Lost to pain –
Carolyn, Riddick soon discovered, had a lot of fixed ideas that she used to lead her life by. Unfortunately for her, most of them made shit sense. Riddick was no stranger to pain, broken bones and torn muscles had been part and parcel of his half-life on the run, and he'd fixed most of them himself. It was just one of those things that stuck with him from his Ranger days. Truthfully, he healed fast too, but as he wasn't big on giving thanks in general, he'd counted his sparse blessings and didn't think much about it.
Now, Carolyn, she was way better at patching herself up than he'd ever been. It was those sharp survival instincts of hers – and probably the medicomp strapped to the fancy Pred wrist gear that he was definitely not jealous of. But she had a bit of the healing touch about her and he liked to fantasize that in some other life she'd've made a great nurse. When she wanted to, she could be real gentle – he'd seen her tend to the wounded with calm, precise gestures and warm, soothing whispers; people had drifted blissfully out of life in her strong arms and she'd close their eyes with a noble sort of reverence.
(She was never like that with him, mind you. Whenever he got a bit roughed up, she'd forcefully grab him and subject him to a great deal more pain than he'd initially experienced, prodding him with mercilessly cold fingers and sharp, pointy needles, and daring him to complain with those big, pale eyes of hers – they turned pink in his vision then and he knew he was in trouble, so he kept his mouth shut and only grunted once in a while when she got particularly uncharitable).
But there were days when she was the one hurting. And for the longest time, she chose to ignore it, mulishly refusing help and being a grumpy bitch about it. Riddick didn't mind it half as much though. Carolyn's bitchiness made for an interesting sex life. But he couldn't get a proper fuck when her body screeched like an old rusty door if he so much as touched her. Her back ached the most. She'd spent nights without count on the terrace of their house, doubled over and hanging onto the rail for dear life, because she couldn't stand up – or down – straight. It was his wound, the raptor wound, with its long tendrils of scarred flesh that seemed to contract and clench around her like the strongest chains he'd ever worn.
She'd never show her face to him in those moments, but he knew her eyes would shine bright with tears.
There's no one here to see you weak, his big warm hands messaging her back seemed to say. But by the way every fiber of her being tensed under his ministrations, the answer wasn't very flattering.
There's you.
When he'd approached the Doc about it, Shalimar was quite surprised.
"But Captain doesn't take pain killers. She'd welcome a bout of plague faster than a shot of morphine. Says it dulls her mind. It's a Yautja thing, I suppose. Some sort of endurance test: live through the pain, never show weakness, all a steaming pile of alien machoism, of course".
Shalimar had a habit of wrinkling her nose in distaste whenever she spoke of the Preds.
"Which is not even entirely accurate, you know. They do have pain relievers, but the vial was removed from the Captain's medicomp, because it's toxic for the human body. Brain damage, you see."
"That ain't much help, Doc."
The Doc gave Riddick a strange look.
"It's the back, isn't it?"
Riddick groaned. Shalimar preached.
"It comes and goes. As she grows older, naturally older, such things will occur more frequently, I'm afraid. Our bodies, Mr. Riddick, are vengeful elephants. They do not forget injury. An aging mind may slip seamlessly into oblivion, but an aging human body remembers all the trauma inflicted onto it. I suggest you get used to it. You haven't even reached the prime of your lifespan. There's a big chance you will outlive her, as you will do all of us. It's the curse and blessing of your Furyan genes. Why, your grandfather, Amadan the Great, lived twice the span of a human life!"
Riddick didn't like to be reminded of that. Seemed most of his dead family had made quite the impression on worrying numbers of Deep Space dwellers. They spoke of legends and heroes and deeds done by people who were nothing to him but a strand of matching DNA.
Shalimar meant well, he knew, and the good Muslim doctor was devoted to tending to Carolyn's good health. But Riddick was stubborn. More so than Shalimar's Captain. He'd not lose this battle, even if, genetically speaking, he was rigged to lose the war.
(He'd see about that, though. He'd rigged plenty of dices in his unnaturally long life to know how to play the game and come on top).
So, the next time Carolyn left his bed to suffer in solitude, he was prepared.
Carolyn stared incredulously at him. In her anger, she almost seemed to have forgotten the pain. Riddick clocked that for future reference.
"Pot?! You brought me pot?!"
"I like to call it herbal pain reliever. For medicinal purposes."
"It's pot!"
"Looks like it, don't it? But it's not. It comes with a prescription."
"So does morphine. Doesn't make it less of a drug!"
"Doc says the worst it'll do is put you to sleep."
Or get her laughing uncontrollably until she passed out, but he was oddly looking forward to spectating some of that, so he kept that tidbit of information to himself.
"You want to drug me?! Why don't you just shoot horse tranq up my ass?"
"Tempting, but no. You'd wake up numb after that. This, however…"
"Get that shit away from me!"
He didn't. He crowded her aching self with his larger frame, knowing that even if she did put up a fight, her balance would be way off. Tonight, she hunched.
"Now, we could do this the easy way. Two puffs and it's off to LaLa land. I promise I won't even take advantage of that." He would. Carolyn drooled when she was out of it. "But we could also do this the hard way. And we play for pain. You and me."
"Don't make this into a challenge", Carolyn hissed.
He was and he should've known better. Damned woman did that to him.
"There's no challenge, 'cause there's no option. Now, be a good girl and…"
She wrenched the inhaler out of his hand and took a good look at the smoke twirling in its transparent container. The contraption looked more high-end than the stuff on the back streets of every space port she'd ever docked on in her life, but she didn't like it then and she fucking hated it now, ever since Johns…
Really, all she could think of was the merc's impossibly steady hand injecting his daily dose of morphine into his blue, blue eye.
And just like then, it was all Riddick's fault. She felt the anger spring to life and just as she was about to smack the inhaler against Riddick stupid bald head, she caught the look in his eyes. Silvery and hard, starring her down, and in their depths, an indecipherable sadness he usually hid pretty well.
"What if I get addicted?"
"You're already a masochist. Think of it as a promotion."
"I'm serious."
"I'll have you shot in the head, stabbed in the back, whatever you like. I know someone. Real pro-like with a gun. Clean, too."
Carolyn growled. She did it at a higher key than he'd normally go for, but she was still aggravatingly cute.
She eyed the inhaler and dangled the glass container a bit to rattle up the smoke inside.
"Doc's finest."
"So, how much?"
"Twice a day, every day."
That earned him a punch, which he courteously let connect on account of her suffering.
Carolyn hobbled with the inhaler back to bed.
"Two puffs, right?"
Riddick nodded, overcome with a sudden scientific interest. The good Doc had brought out her chemistry set, trying to synthesize something out of the Pred morphine that wouldn't fry Carolyn's circuitry altogether. He'd even offered to have it tested on himself, since his synapses were basically human. His vision got a bit blurry, like he'd stared too long into the sun. The thick needle Shalimar stuck into his thigh didn't even register.
On the other side of the room, sitting precariously on the edge of the bed, Carolyn took two puffs. It was painfully obvious she'd never done such things before, by the way she grimaced when the smoke hit her lungs. His Carolyn, a good girl, through and through.
"Never lost a college bet ever, huh?"
"'Course I did" Carolyn answered tiredly, while rubbing her eyes. "But I like something more substantial in my mouth than a flimsy inhaler."
"I can accommodate that."
"You promised you wouldn't take advantage."
Fuck.
"I lied."
"I know."
That night Carolyn slept peacefully, clutching Riddick's bedside dagger in her hand.
A/N: So, what did you think of the new Riddick installment? I quite enjoyed it myself.
