Chapter 11
She woke to a throat being cleared, fighting to gain her senses as she heard footsteps travel across the room, paper shuffle, some kind of rattling, and Riddick's gruff thank you.
"Monkey?" she asked.
"Yeah," Riddick said quietly, the paper crinkling louder. "Doc says he'll be by in a little while," he continued. "Sent over more gauze and pills." She nodded, tonguing the deep cut in her bottom lip. She dozed back off, waking later to clanging metal and ringing chains.
"How you doin', Sarge?" Doc's voice asked. She groaned, slowly rolling over onto her side. "Can you sit up?" She tried, slowly sliding up the wall. "Good," Doc commented. She heard him shuffling around, one brow twitching downward as she tried to figure out what was going on. "Ready for a pill?"
"Tylenol?"
"No, sweetheart," he said quietly. The tone telling her what it was without having to say it.
"Oh, right." She took the pill, drinking greedily.
"Let's have a look at you." She felt his hands go around her head, slowly unwrapping the gauze Riddick had replaced a few hours earlier. Doc sucked in a breath, and she cringed. Must be bad, she thought. "Didn't rip anything, that's good," he mumbled to himself. "Little more bruised that you should be, though."
"Cut the shit, Doc," she snapped irritably.
"Worked you over," he admitted. "Nice gash above your eyebrow – same place as a couple times ago. That one you stitched yourself." She nodded. "Lip's cut pretty bad too." She cringed as Doc inspected the swollen areas around her eyes. "I think you'll be okay."
"You think?" Riddick asked quietly.
"There's no way to tell for sure without having her open her eyes, and she's nowhere near ready for that yet," he said quietly, quickly stitching her eyebrow, and then putting a couple into her lip, just to be safe. Riddick nodded. Sarge sighed. "Hell, I don't even think you could with as swollen as they are."
"I'm sorry, Doc," she said.
"Not your fault they're assholes," he spat. "You don't have anything to apologize for."
"Being born?" she asked with a smirk.
"Oh, stop it," Doc snapped.
"Getting caught and convicted?"
"Well, maybe, but you don't deserve this." Her smile fell. "No one does." He sighed, replacing the bandages. "Listen to me, Sarge." She nodded. "Lots of water. Flush anything out that might have gotten in there. Keep taking the Tylenol – it'll help with the swelling. And stay warm. I brought you a sweatshirt and an old blanket I found."
"Thanks," she croaked with a weak smile.
"No problem." She heard the door close and get locked, and slid down the wall onto her side with a heavy sigh.
"I hate to keep you locked up in here with me," she said quietly.
"Don't worry about it," Riddick returned.
"You shouldn't have to do this," she pressed.
"I don't." She wasn't sure what, if anything, she expected him to say, but that was the least expected response she could have considered.
"Just because you're in prison doesn't mean you have to stay in your cage, Riddick," she insisted. "Not even for a lousy cellmate like me."
"You're not a lousy cellmate," he interjected. She sighed.
"Right." The bed gave as he sat next to her, leaning over her to brush her hair from her forehead.
"Lousy cellmates don't help get over shit," he said quietly. She was speechless. "You have," he added, brushing his lips over hers. She cringed with a hiss, pulling away slightly. "Sorry." A tap on the door bars made them both jump. It was a guard.
"What the fuck do you want now?" Riddick growled, rising to his full stature.
"Open the showers for her," he guard mumbled. It was the guard who tried to talk another out of sending them to the hole.
"I don't think she wants your sorry ass holding her up in there," Riddick snapped.
"Both of you then," he said with a shrug. "Long as you don't pull anything, I don't mind."
"Why?" Sarge asked quickly.
"Look," the guard said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I know what happens. I know it's shitty, but there's nothing I can do." He sighed. "Except offer you a shower." Riddick glared at him, then turned to Sarge.
"You don't have to," he whispered. She thought for a minute.
"Packin'?"
"I can't hide a shiv without clothes," he said quickly. Not much time to decide, he figured.
"Take one in with you. Keep it in a pile with your clothes, close," she instructed.
"You sure?"
"Yeah," she said with a slight nod. He turned back to the guard, walking to the door and leaning against the bars.
"Long as you don't pull anything, you'll live," he threatened. The guard nodded, glancing at the lock. Riddick undid the chain, keeping an eye on the guard as he pulled Sarge from the bed and grabbed her bag, holding the soap. They walked down the hallway, other convicts staring, toward the shower room. The guard opened the door, gesturing for them to enter. "After you," Riddick said slowly. The guard shrugged and held the door open for them. "You watch, you die."
"Got it," he said, finding a bench to sit on while he stared at the wall. Riddick lowered Sarge to the ground, her back facing the guard so he could watch him.
"Let's make this fast," Riddick suggested. Sarge nodded, wobbling a little as she undressed. The water was barely warm enough, but better than nothing, and she stood under the spray while Riddick stripped, leaving the shiv on top of the pile of material within reach. He extracted the soap from her bag, and they showered quickly. Blood and grime ran down the drain, and soap never felt so damn good. They dressed as quickly as they could, which wasn't too fast, considering there was no way to dry off down here, and let the guard know they were done. He opened the door and walked through it, holding it open once more for them before letting it close and locking it. Convicts stared as Riddick helped Sarge walk back to the cell, half amazed they'd lived and the other half amazed the guard helped them out in a small way.
"Feel better?" Riddick asked, once the cell door was securely locked and she'd crawled into bed. She nodded. He sat next to her, back to the wall, and she cuddled up to his chest, falling asleep quickly. His arm was around her shoulders, thumb absentmindedly stroking her arm slowly. Fellow convicts strolled by sporadically to get a glance, looking away when Riddick turned that icy glare on them. He wasn't sure if they'd become icons or targets.
She woke slowly, painfully, to vibrations under her pillow. Her neck ached, a kink having formed while she slept. She shifted, and the vibrations stopped, her pillow moving slightly. A moment of quiet, and the mumbles continued. Slowly, the voices came into focus.
"So he just let you in?" It was Balls.
"Yeah. Don't know what to make of it," Riddick replied. "Didn't pull any shit either, which is worse."
"Yeah, I hear ya," Balls responded. "Kinda makes me wonder what they're up to." Riddick shrugged. "They don't do shit like that out of the goodness of their fuckin' hearts."
"Yeah, I know."
"You know," Balls said thoughtfully, "they've probably figured out you've taken over now that Twosy's gone." Riddick grunted. "Twosy wasn't as much of a threat to them as you are."
"He tried to keep us out of the hole, Balls. Maybe there's a tiny piece of fucking pity in him," Sarge mumbled. "Not common, but possible."
"I don't know," Balls pressed. "I wouldn't count on anything."
"What about the others?" Riddick asked. Balls' eyebrow rose. "Cons."
"What about them?"
"What's their take?" Balls didn't respond, so Riddick continued. "Either they think there's one humane guard out there or that we're buddying up." Balls sighed.
"I don't know, man."
"I'm not leaving this fucking cell until I find that out," Riddick stated. "Not taking the chance I'll get ghosted and not have anyone lookin' after her."
"I'll be able to see in a few days, Riddick," Sarge groaned.
"Assuming that beating they threw you didn't fuck it up," Riddick pointed out. She shrugged.
"Not as sore. Not as swollen. Not bleeding any more. I'll be fine," she insisted.
"Just because you feel fine right now doesn't mean you'll see fine when you open your eyes."
"Then let me open my fucking eyes and let's find out, huh?" Riddick sighed. "Look, you and Doc both said I could open my eyes a couple days after the bleeding stopped," she pushed. "The bleeding stopped three days ago, Riddick."
"She's got a point, Riddick," Balls ventured.
"Of course I have a fucking point."
"I don't know," Riddick said slowly.
"Want me to go get the doc?" Balls offered.
"Yeah, go get Doc, Balls," Sarge said quickly, before Riddick could say no.
"Riddick?"
"Yeah, sure, Balls. Go for it," Riddick sighed. She heard balls leave and propped herself up, working the kink out of her neck. It popped and she sighed in relief. They waited in silence until two pairs of feet stopped in the hallway, and Riddick rose to let them in, locking up behind them.
"You sure about this, Sarge?" Doc asked.
"Would I have drug your ass out of bed if I wasn't?" she snapped. Doc chuckled.
"Alright, wraps first." He removed the gauze and inspected the skin, before telling her to go ahead. "Swelling's gone down quite a bit," he said. "Should be able to open them at least a little." She strained to pry them apart – little slits at first and then almost all the way open. She blinked a few times and then closed them tightly, shaking her head.
"No?" Balls asked.
"Gimme a minute," she said quietly, opening them again. Newly silvered irises flitted around the room, every now and then crossing. "Blurry," she mumbled, scrunching and shaking her head again.
"Shaking's not gonna do anything," Riddick said. "You have to learn to focus again." She nodded, holding her hand in front of her face.
"What do you see?" Doc asked, his voice gentle next to her.
"Lots of pink. Little bit of purple. Little bit of blue. All swirled around."
"We got color," Doc said, grinning.
"Is that good?" Balls asked. Riddick nodded, face still serious.
"Well," Doc said as he stood. "Looks like things are gonna be fine. Sarge," she turned her head toward his voice, eyes widening at the change of color. "Once you can focus, you and Riddick bring the goods." She nodded, suddenly planting her hands at her sides to keep from falling over.
"Whoa," she muttered. "Dizzy." Riddick smirked. He knew that feeling. Riddick let Balls and Doc out, locking the chain behind them. When he turned, she was still staring around the room, one eye crossed. "Where are you?"
"Right here," he said, not moving. She sighed.
"I can't see a damn thing except god damn color." He snickered.
"You'll learn eventually," he said, walking the short distance to her. "And you'll also learn what light feels like." Her brows knitted.
"Don't you mean what light looks like?"
"No," he said quickly, "feels like."
"Hmm. That's kinda foreboding," she smarted, drawing another grin from Riddick. She heaved a sigh, scrunching her eyes shut. "I need something to stare at for a while. Something that I know what it is."
"Like what?"
"I dunno," she said with a shrug. She opened her eyes again, raising her hand in front of her face. A flash of color, and she jumped, then felt his hand close around hers.
"Just me," he said gently, tugging on her arm. He led her to her bed, and she sat down, still grasping his hand as she laid back, pulling him down with her. They settled on their sides facing each other, and she stared up at him. He bit back the laughter, watching her eyes cross, uncross, one eye cross and straighten, the other eye cross and straighten. A few blinks, and more crossing and uncrossing. "You're crossing your eyes," he said leisurely, barely choking off a snicker.
"Am I?"
"Yep."
"Shit." She let her eyes close and rubbed them. "Tell me when they're straight," she asked.
"Just relax," he suggested. "Don't try so fuckin' hard." She sighed, opening them again and searching. "Right here," he said quietly, lifting her chin with a bent finger. He stared down into her eyes, watching her focus and unfocus.
"This is aggravating," she said, frustrated.
"Just give it time," he said with a shrug, watching her eyes widen. "Relax and see what you see." She sighed, burying her face in the pillow. He tucked her hair behind her ear. "We need to get you some protection," he said, thinking aloud.
"Yeah, might be a good idea," she admitted. "We could probably talk Monkey into venturing out."
"Locker rooms?"
"Maybe," she said, opening her eyes again. Her lids narrowed as she tried focusing again, and she finally reached out, running nimble fingers over his face. "I can see my fingers," she said slowly, wiggling them in front of her face. "But stuff that's further away is too blurry." She sighed. Riddick smirked, leaning closer to her. "Wow. Hi," she said with a bright smile. "I can see you."
"Can you?" She wrinkled her nose.
"Kinda. Not really clearly, but something's there."
"That's the big thing," he said, leaning back again. "Figuring out what's background and all." She stuck her lip out, and his eyebrow rose. "What?"
"You disappeared." He chuckled, watching her scoot her body closer to his. Her vision fuzzed with her movement, and again when he shifted further down the bed, his face level with hers. "There you are," she said quietly. "There's your nose," she said, her finger wavering as she tried to touch. Her palm pressed to his cheek, thumb moving back and forth slowly. She watched in amazement, leaning a little closer. "Wow. Focus." He smiled, and she glanced down at the gesture, staring at it.
"You're a fast learner," he said quietly, the smile falling. Her eyes shifted to his.
"I can't see your glow," she said, sounding a little disappointed.
"You will eventually," he responded, his eyes scanning her features as quickly as her eyes were his. "Once you get the hang of it, you'll see more than you did before." She nodded slowly, still absorbing the face she'd not seen in a good two weeks.
"I missed this face," she whispered.
"Did you?" She nodded, suddenly scrunching her eyes shut. "Oh yeah. Moving your head sucks at first."
"I'm noticing that," she returned, slowly opening her eyes again.
"How's the other stuff feeling?" he asked softly.
"What, my forehead?" she asked, removing her hand from his cheek to run her fingers over the stitches. "Not too bad. Still a little tender, but not incapacitating." He smiled, his eyes shifting down to her lips.
"And that lip you busted?" Her tongue darted out to feel the stitches, and she shrugged. "Still a little swollen, looks like."
"Maybe a little. Doesn't hurt though."
"No?" Her eyes locked on his so her vision wouldn't blur as she shook her head. She made a mental note. "Not even a little?"
"Not even a random twinge," she said slowly, watching his tongue slide lazily over his bottom lip. Good God, she thought.
"The stitches aren't itchy at all?" She only stared at the lip he just licked, watching the corners curl upwards the slightest bit. His hand traveled up her arm to press into the side of her neck. "Your pulse is racing," he commented quietly. "You been taking something other than Tylenol while I wasn't looking?"
"You mean when I wasn't looking?" she asked with a smirk. "How the fuck would I do that when I had my eyes wrapped shut?" He shrugged, watching her eyes scrunch shut again. "Don't do that," she mumbled.
"Do what?"
"Move," she complained. "It's confusing."
"I know." Her eyes opened, eventually focusing on his.
"You're playing with me," she said slowly.
"Took you long enough to figure out," he returned. She forced a smile, letting it fall as quickly at it had surfaced. His thumb trailed over the stitches in her lip, and he watched for even the slightest flinch. "Not even a little itch."
"Stitches don't bother me at all," she said slowly. "And you're still toying with me." His eyebrow arched. "I'm losing my patience."
"What're you gonna do when it's gone?" he asked, another wicked smile gracing his lips.
"Keep it up and find out the hard way," she warned, face stern. His smile fell, her vision blurring as he leaned forward slowly. "I lost focus again," she sighed.
"Fuck the focus." She blinked quickly, and then her eyes slammed shut as his lips brushed lightly over hers. He put no pressure against her, merely touching. Neither moved for a moment – he didn't want to hurt her lip, and she didn't want to force a kiss not knowing if that was his intention. Finally he caught her top lip between his, and she sucked in a breath, clamping onto his lower lip. It wasn't a demanding kiss, both moving slowly and deliberately, hesitantly even, as they worked against each other. She pulled away first, moving slowly to bring him into focus.
"That wasn't me," she whispered.
"What wasn't you?"
"You did that." He nodded, watching her eyes widen as she tried to lock onto her vision. "Why?"
"I wanted to." Her eyebrow twitched, and he glanced up at it.
"Twinge," she said with a slight shrug. Her eyes closed again, and she rubbed, a slight groan escaping her. "My eyes are tired."
"I know," he said quietly.
"Getting a headache."
"I know. Just rest them." She nodded with a light sigh. He felt her flinch as he kissed each eyelid, a low chuckle breaking the silence. A small smile played on her lips, and he leaned forward for another short taste. "Go to sleep," he said gently. She nodded, burrowing deeper into the pillow with a contented sigh.