Chapter 20
He waited until she fell asleep in the co-pilot's chair before standing with a grimace, trying to contain the groan on the tip of his tongue. Standing over her, he paused, glancing out into the vast expanse of stars floating by lazily before looking back down at her. A slight, fleeting smile, and he shuffled down the hallway to the bathroom. The door closed silently behind him, so as not to wake her.
With a sharp inhale, he removed his shirt, glancing down at the deep gash in his side. How the blood didn't leak through I'll never know, he thought with a wince. As soon as she'd started traveling with him, he'd started carrying a backpack with an extra change of clothes and some makeshift dressings, just in case. He never thought he'd have to use them, but better safe than sorry.
He tenderly mopped up the fresh blood, clenching his teeth as he scrubbed the dried, crusted blood from the jagged edges of the cut. A forceful sigh and a violent shudder. Getting cold was not a good sign. Pain coursed through him as he jumped, a soft knock on the door jolting him out of his thoughts.
"Riddick?" Fuck.
"Yeah?" Even through the door, his voice sounded weird.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," he lied. It was inevitable. Her eyebrow would arch and she'd open the door. Double fuck. He watched the knob turn and the door swing open, revealing the crook in her eyebrow he'd known would be there. Her eyes shifted from his to the sink where the bloodied rag lay, and then to the floor, where a few drops of blood had managed to fall. She sighed.
"What happened?" she asked, pushing into the room and sitting on the edge of the bathtub.
"They didn't like the price." She shook her head, reaching into the cabinet.
"Sit," she commanded, nodding at the toilet. His turn to arch an eyebrow, but he obeyed. "This is why you negotiate prices before you drop the shit off, Riddick," she said gently.
"You can't do that with everyone," he retorted, wincing in anticipation of that damned peroxide touching his skin. He moved his arm to give her access, and she watched his stomach tighten and start to quiver as she cleaned him up.
"This is deep, Riddick."
"I know." His voice was strained, eyes squeezed shut.
"Got a needle?" His eyes opened slowly to stare at her.
"There should be butterfly bandages in there," he said quietly. She sent him a look, and he sighed. "In the med kit in the cargo hold." She nodded and stood, disappearing for a few moments. When she returned, he was leaning sideways against the counter, looking a little blanched. Her fingers trailed lightly down the side of his face, and she watched his eyes open slowly before she planted a kiss in the middle of his forehead.
"You want the spray anesthetic?" she asked quietly. He shook his head as she threaded the needle. "Sure?" Another slight nod. She cut away some of the jagged, torn skin and cleaned the wound again, cringing as the muscle flexed in protest. Her eyes glanced up at his one more time before shaky fingers went to work on stitching the wound closed. "Why didn't you just tell me?" she asked flatly. He sighed, another shudder rippling over him.
"I didn't want you to worry," came his quiet response. She shook her head, tying off the last stitch. He glanced down, impressed with her work as she stood and washed his blood from her hands. Despite his protests, she taped a gauze pad over the fresh stitches and handed him a clean shirt, watching him tenderly pull it over his head. She just stood there for a moment, staring down at him, the expression on her face somewhere between anger, concern, and relief, arms crossed over her chest.
"Don't ever do that again," she said firmly. His eyes fell from hers. "I mean it, Riddick," she insisted. He nodded and then cracked his neck. "You get hurt, you tell me the minute you walk onto this fucking ship or I won't fix you up again."
"I can fix myself up," he growled, lifting his eyes to hers. Her gaze was just as defiant and angry as his.
"This time you could have," she said simply. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "You need some sleep." She reached out, taking his arm and giving it a gentle tug. He complied, standing with a grunt. They walked down the hall, hand in hand, and she stood over him as he crawled under the covers and looked up at her expectantly. A small smile played on her lips, but she didn't move.
"Auto pilot's set, Jack," he said slowly.
"I know."
"You could use some sleep too."
"I have a bed," she reminded him.
"Don't be like that," he groaned, rolling his eyes. She smiled and slid onto the bed next to him.
"I can't stay mad at you long enough," she complained, nuzzling against his chest as his arm wrapped around her.
"See, that's a good thing," he replied, his smile soaking into his voice.
"This isn't going to work if you're not honest with me." The smile fell from his face and he reached up to play with a strand of hair.
"I know that," he granted quietly.
"Leaving things out of the conversation is just as bad as lying to me, Riddick."
"I know." Another shudder shook him, and she shook her head, pulling away to look at him, her face more serious than he expected.
"Cold?" He shrugged, prompting a sigh. She pulled out of his grasp and left the room, returning with a glass of water. "Sit up for a minute." He moaned in objection, but still complied. "Here," she said, sticking out a hand. He held his out, eyebrow raised as two little green pills were deposited into his palm and the glass of water held out.
"What's this?"
"Anti-inflammatory," she said, watching him swallow the pills, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallowed the water. "Probably loss of blood," she guessed, taking the glass from his outstretched arm. He shrugged before settling back under the covers, a sigh punctuating the air. A sickening feeling settled in her stomach as she returned to the kitchen, setting the glass on the counter. It didn't go away, even as she went back to his room and settled on her side next to him, even as his arms settled around her. "I worry about you anyway," she whispered, running her thumb back and forth over his cheek. Those two silvery orbs appeared out of the darkness and stared back at her, and, for a short moment, she lost herself in them. "I really do," she finished with a small nod, as though she had to convince him. Her brows furled as she pressed her lips against his in a short kiss; just to make herself sure he was still there. Her arm wrapped around his shoulders as she pressed herself closer to him, cheek resting against his. "It's days like today that make me so glad I love you enough not to do something stupid like leave you," she blurted, instantly kicking herself for not thinking of a better way to put that as he stiffened against her.
"What was that?" he asked quietly, pushing her away from him enough for him to see her face. She didn't answer him, and didn't meet his eyes. "Jack?" He lifted her chin toward him with a finger, watching her eyes finally settle on his.
"It's like you try to piss me off enough to make me want to get the fuck away from you, just to test me," she said with a slight smirk. He smiled.
"Sounds like something I'd do," he granted with a small laugh. "But I'm not." She nodded, dropping her head to the pillow, eyes still locked with his. He sighed, tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear. "And you said the three words." Her eyes closed.
"It just kinda slipped out," she muttered with a shrug of one shoulder. She felt his eyes on her, and finally indulged the urge to look at him. He had a strange look on his face, and he took a breath, pausing.
"Are you gonna take it back now?" Her eyebrow rose. He looks genuinely scared, she thought, hoping the shock didn't show on her face. Her eyes shifted from his down to his lips and back up before she shook her head slightly.
"I don't have a reason to," she whispered. A moan rumbled through his chest as he pulled her fiercely against him, his lips attacking hers with renewed strength.
"You remember that conversation we had about things I hadn't heard before?" She shook her head against him. "You said I was weird, and I said I'd heard it, and then you said I was aggravating."
"Yeah, I remember that," she said slowly. He sighed, shaking his head and squeezing her harder.
"What you just said to me is something I've never heard from anyone ever before," he said quietly. She couldn't help but smile and kiss the side of his neck.
"I didn't know how you'd take it," she said quietly, smiling again at the sound of his laugh, somewhat glad he'd loosed his grip on her enough for her to shift into a more comfortable position.
"Well, since we're making admissions here," he said, watching her eyebrow rise as the worry set in. "I was sure how I'd take it either, for a while." She shook her head, eyes pleading for explanation. "You know, I was pretty sure for a while that, uh," he cleared his throat, shifting under the covers, "that you felt that way, but I wasn't sure how I felt about you feeling that way." She shook her head again, grinning.
"You're an ass," she whined with a smirk. He shrugged, smiling even after her smile fell. "So, uh," she trailed off, looking around the room. "Um, how do you feel about me feeling that way?" she finally stammered, glancing up at him quickly before looking away again, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. He cringed inwardly. He knew she was going to ask that, and if there was one thing in the world he didn't think he could do, it was tell someone he loved them. It was one of those admissions where he didn't want to take the easy route and just say 'ditto', or 'the same way', and the way she posed the question wasn't a way where he could just say he was fine with it. No, he knew she wanted to hear him say he loved her. He sighed.
"Jack," he said slowly, watching her eyes fill with fear and expectation. "I know what you want me to say." Her face fell, eyes focusing on the pillow. "And just because I can't come out and say something like that doesn't mean…" he trailed off with a heavy sigh. "Shit." Her eyes closed, and she inhaled deeply, heaving it back out in a disappointed sigh. "I can't say it, but that doesn't mean…" She shrunk further into the mattress. If he kept bumbling on about how he couldn't say it she was going to go insane, just because she wouldn't know. "Jack, saying it and knowing it's there are different, right?" She shrugged. "Fuck."
"You're making me nervous stammering like that," she said quietly, voice sounding almost as dejected as she felt.
"I can't say it to you, Jack," he said with a sigh. "It's just something I can't, you know? I mean, I know the words, but I can't put them together like that." Christ, Jack thought, this is the longest explanation of 'I'm glad you love me but I don't love you back' I could have ever guessed was possible. "I do, but I can't." Her eyes opened, revealing a surprisingly vulnerable Riddick lying in front of her, eyes scrunched shut.
"You do, but you can't," she repeated slowly. He nodded, a heavy sigh piercing the silence around them. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I knew you were gonna ask me that," he groaned, rolling onto his back, covering his eyes with the back of his forearm, his other arm still over her shoulder, hand flattened against the small of her back to hold her to his side. "Shit." She just waited patiently. "I do, but I can't say it."
"Why?"
"I just can't," he insisted, suddenly frustrated with himself.
"Okay, so let me get this straight," she said, sitting up next to him, noticing his arm followed her movement to settle on her thigh, never breaking contact. "You do love me, but you can't say it." He didn't move, didn't say anything. She sighed. "God damn it, Riddick."
"I know!" he exclaimed, just as irritated as she was.
"You can say 'I do, but I can't', but you can't just fucking say 'I love you'?" He threw his hands in the air before rolling onto his side again, facing away from her. She sighed, flopping down behind him, draping an arm over his side.
"This is as close as you're gonna get for a long time, Jack," he said quietly, shaking his head.
"You can't just think of a different way to word it, can you?" It was more of an observation than a question. He laughed out of dissatisfaction.
"I guess I could try." Her fingers intertwined with his and squeezed gently. "Just give me a while to think about it." She nodded, pulling herself closer to him, suddenly exhausted. Her eyes closed, and he felt her breathing start to slow. She almost jumped when his voice broke the silence again. "I care about you." He swallowed. This was easier when he wasn't looking at her. "I've never cared about anyone before in my life." He paused, holding his breath and closing his eyes tightly. "I care about you the same way you, um…"
"You care about me the same way I care about you."
"Yeah."
"Can I say it for you and you tell me yes or no?" He shrugged. She gave him another squeeze, a makeshift hug. "You love me, Riddick." She made sure she didn't pose it as a question so he wouldn't be answering; only agreeing, if it was true. He sighed, feeling her heart pound in her chest as she waited, hoping he would reply. It's not a question, Riddick, he told himself. She's got it figured out. All you have to do is agree. You're not answering.
"Yeah."