Chapter 23
Her tiny whimper woke him, and he lifted his head slowly, inhaling deeply as sleep disappeared. Her eyebrows were drawn down over her face, curled in pain, and her fingers dug into the cot under her.
"Kody?" She started slightly, but didn't acknowledge him. He reached out slowly, laying a hand on her shoulder, and she jerked, turning her head away with another small whimper. After a quick glance over his shoulder at the wall clock, he stood slowly, stretching his arms lazily above his head with a low growl. He walked back over to the medicine storage refrigerator and retrieved a pre-loaded syringe, injecting the sedative into her IV. She relaxed slightly, bending her wrist back and forth as the liquid ran through. He returned to his chair at the bedside, leaning back to watch over her. She moaned and shifted under the covers, burrowing deeper.
"It's cold," she whispered, still working her wrist.
"You awake?" he asked quietly, reaching out to stroke her forehead. She mumbled something incomprehensible, and repeated the complaint. "What's cold, Kody?"
"Hurts."
"What hurts?" he pressed.
"Cold." His eyes fell on her hand, which was still bending at the wrist over and over. "It's cold," she whimpered, rubbing the back of her hand against her stomach. He reached out, taking her hand into his to keep her from ripping the needle out. Her skin was warm to the touch, but she seemed to quiet down as long as his hands touched hers. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her skin, avoiding the tape holding the needle in place. Curiosity got the better of him, and he unwrapped the gauze around her wrists, inspecting the lacerations from the restraints. His brow furrowed. They were deeper than he'd thought, still bleeding slightly. He reached for the antiseptic pads and unscrewed the lid, smiling lightly as she jerked at the contact. He knew it stung, but the last thing she needed was an infection. A change of gauze, and the same treatment to the other wrist, and he returned to just watching. Every now and again she'd twitch – the only indication she was dreaming – and then grumble and shift to a more comfortable position.
He'd lost himself in planning Anders' future. He wasn't sure if death was in the picture, but he was definitely going to enjoy himself at Anders' expense. Her intermittent twitching failed to catch his attention any more, and his thumb just continued a lazy, repetitive journey over the back of her hand. He snapped back to reality at the gentle squeeze, his eyes focusing on her face once more. Her eyes were cracked open to slits, shined eyes glinting under thick lashes.
"Hey," he whispered. She barely smiled, but it was enough. "How are you feeling?" She just mumbled something and blinked slowly. "Anything hurt?" A small nod. "Where?"
"Wrist." His brows furrowed.
"Which one?" She squeezed the hand holding hers. It was the one with the IV.
"Cold," she whispered. "Joint hurts." He nodded, closing his hand around the needle. "How long?"
"How long until what?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. He'd gotten a crick in his neck at some point.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head as much as she dared. "There." His eyebrow rose, and she heaved a sigh, grimacing.
"Careful," he said quickly. "Your ribs are broken." She nodded, swallowing thickly. "How long were you there?" She nodded again. "I don't know. Maybe about a week."
"No food." He nodded in agreement. He knew. She took another breath, but he reached out with his free hand and laid his thumb over her lips, cupping her cheek as he shushed her.
"You need to rest," he said quietly. Her eyes closed, but she remained awake.
"So sorry," she whispered, seemingly in a daze.
"For what?" he asked quietly, leaning forward to hear her. He'd figured she'd had just enough water to keep her alive, which would explain how quiet her voice was. She probably felt like she was yelling.
"Stupid." He chuckled quietly, and she pried her eyes apart. "Got caught."
"Yeah," he answered, nodding slightly. "You did."
"Sorry." Her eyes closed again slowly, but opened when she felt him move. She stared up at his chest, feeling his lips press against her forehead. "Shouldn't have to."
"Shouldn't have to what?" he asked, sitting back down next to her. She smiled lazily, swallowing again.
"Telling them," she whispered, her smile falling and eyes closing again. He stood quickly, knocking the chair over. The clatter made her start, and she winced as he let go of her hand, letting it fall back to her side, prompting a small whimper.
"Telling them what?" he demanded, the volume of his voice rising slightly. She shook her head, and he leaned down. "Kody, listen to me. You have to tell me what you told them so I can keep them away from us."
"Too much." He waited. It seemed she could only get out a few words at a time. "Lotsa lies."
"You lied to them?" He relaxed at her nod as the answer.
"You dropped… me… Helion II." She paused to swallow and sigh, forgetting about her side but quickly reminded. "Got to Castia." His eyes widened. "Lay low… then Anders." He nodded. "Don't know." She shook her head, her eyes closing sleepily.
"You don't know what?" He leaned over her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, but she only shook her head again. "Kody, you don't know what?" She swallowed, a pained expression flashing over her face.
"I'm tired," she whimpered.
"What don't you know?" She opened her eyes at his question and blinked a few times. She lifted her hand and placed her palm over his chest, feeling his heartbeat.
"Where."
"Explain that to me," he pressed, covering her hand with his again. She dug her fingers into his chest and closed her eyes. "Shit." He sat down, still holding her hand in his, mulling that piece of information over. She doesn't know where. She doesn't know where she was, or where they were going? Fuck. He heaved a sigh, rubbing his forehead. Okay, she was talking about what she told them. She said I dropped her on Helion II, then she went to Castia to hide for a while, and then she went after Anders. And that she didn't know where… something was. What didn't she know where it was? He growled out of frustration. Guess I'll just have to wait until she wakes up again. He stood, placing her arm under the covers next to her, tucking the sheets around her side. With a lingering glance over his shoulder, he airlocked the door behind him and headed up to the nav bay.
After checking several news feeds and playing the broadcast announcing her capture four or five times, he locked down the control panel and headed into the kitchen. In the rush to get Kody out, they'd not stocked the ship well, so he settled on one of her leftover nutrition bars, chasing it down with a sip of water after each bite. Don't know where. He shook his head. It wasn't like she could lie to him in her condition, but it didn't make sense to him. He tossed the wrapper in the trash bin and moseyed back to the sick bay, his steps growing faster as the beeping got louder. Shit! Shit! Shit! He rushed to unlock the door, throwing it ajar, relief washing over him. She looked up at him angrily, dropping the IV she'd just finished removing. His eyes darted around the room, noting the vitals sensor hanging from the side of the bed as well.
"Take it easy," he said slowly. She groaned, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. "Hey," he continued, inching into the room, hands outstretched as though she had a gun trained on him. "Just relax, okay? You're safe now." She swore under her breath and wavered, and he lunged forward to grasp her shoulder to prevent her from toppling off the small cot. "Easy," he crooned, helping her settle on her side. Her hand was still pressed to her forehead, and she writhed in the bed. "What's wrong?" She only whimpered, beginning to tremble. He swore. "Kody, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong with you."
"Shh," she hissed, digging her fingers into her forehead.
"Is the light too bright?" he whispered. The lights barely qualified as extremely dim, but it was the only thing he could figure. She moaned again, and he called the lights off, but she still didn't relax. "Tell me," he said quietly, rubbing her arm slowly. She curled her knees closer to her chest and whispered something. "What's that?"
"Migraine," she whispered, a little louder, whimpering at the level of her own voice.
"Can I get the IV back into you and get you on something?" Another weak whimper. He figured that meant no, but he hooked a new one up anyway, tossing the one she'd just ripped out of herself out of his way. He got it taped back down, quickly hooked up the vitals sensors again, and leaned closer to her. "Do you know what kind of drug it takes?" She nodded slowly, her face crumpling. "What?"
"Fioricet," she answered. He nodded and rummaged through the medicine fridge, not finding any.
"Don't have any," he said quietly. She swore.
"Codeine, caffeine, Tylenol," she ordered.
"Are you sure?" he asked slowly. A small nod. He did what he could, only giving her the least amount he thought he could get away with, and she finally started unwinding. He righted the chair he'd knocked over earlier and placed it a little closer to the wall, nearer to her head, and lowered himself into it slowly. It'd been a long day.
"Cold," she whispered. Oh, great. This again.
"What's cold?" he asked, trying to keep the frustration from his voice.
"The damn IV drip," she returned. "Hurts my wrist." He smiled. Oh, that. Makes sense, I guess. "Can't nuke it?" He chuckled.
"'Fraid not." She sighed, rubbing the tips of her fingers over her forehead. "Feeling better?"
"Little," she said, managing a small shrug.
"Good." He watched her for a moment, until she opened her eyes and watched him back.
"Gave me the minimum, huh?" His eyebrow rose. "Least you thought you could get away with?" He smiled. "How much codeine?"
"Half a dose," he answered. She wrinkled her nose at him. "More?" A small nod. He complied, watching the drug take effect, her eyes staring open for a while, the blinks slow and infrequent. "Better?" A lazy grin. "You said something about you didn't know where something was," he ventured. Her brows knitted, and she glanced up at him.
"I did?" He only looked at her expectantly. "Context?"
"What you told them."
"Oh, that," she said slowly. "Words were hard to think of."
"Sedative," he explained. She nodded.
"I didn't know where you were."
"They asked where I was?"
"Well," she started, shifting further under the blanket. "You escaped the same day I did, and only one ship was stolen. What else would they think?" He grunted. "Told them you dropped me off at Helion II and I caught my own way to Castia so I could plan." She paused, tonguing a gash in her lip, feeling out the stitches Riddick had put in. "Anders?" Her eyes met his, and he noted a slight amount of fear in them.
"Treated and released. Work release for two weeks."
"So if I was held for a week, and it's been, what, a day or two here?" Riddick nodded. "He'll be going back to work soon."
"Let it go," Riddick groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Why should I?"
"Because you're too fucked up right now to think about it," Riddick snapped. "You need to concentrate on getting better, and it's gonna take a long fucking time to even get close."
"I'm not that bad off, am I?" she asked, a slight lilt of sarcasm in her tone. The look he gave her made the cocky smirk slide off her face. "Tell me," she demanded.
"Your wrists are all cut up from the restraints. So are your ankles, but not as badly. Two broken ribs, a busted face." Yeah, feels like it, she thought with a wince. "Oh, and not to mention that you're half dehydrated and fully starved," Riddick finished slowly, as though holding something back.
"What else?"
"Nothing," he said quickly.
"Riddick…"
"You lost a lot of weight, Kody," he said quietly.
"How much?" A pit of nervousness was growing in her stomach.
"A lot."
"God damn it, Riddick, how much?" She grimaced at the pain shooting through her temples at the outburst, but it made her feel better.
"Thirty pounds."
"In a week?!" His eyes met hers. "Christ."
"Your clothes were falling off of you when Tim brought you back," Riddick continued. "Stomach was all caved in." She nodded.
"I thought that was just because of how they chained me up." Riddick shook his head, and she heaved a sigh. The pain in her side was now barely noticeable, thanks largely in part to the codeine now in her system. "So, um…" she trailed off, pausing to glance at him before continuing, "what else did they do to me?"
"I don't know. Nothing I can tell," he said with a small shrug. "Just threw you a good beating." She nodded.
"I can handle that." Riddick nodded, catching the implication. She couldn't have handled it if she'd been raped, even if she didn't remember it. He didn't plan on telling her he hadn't checked. "I'm tired."
"You can sleep," he said gently, reaching out to let strands of her hair slide between his fingers.
"I didn't think you'd come for me," she whispered.
"Why?"
"Chris." Riddick grumbled. "I didn't deserve it."
"That's what you get for thinking," he said quietly. A small smile touched the corners of her lips, and she blinked drowsily. "Sleep," he commanded.