Chapter 3

AN - Not as long as I would have liked, but hey, "I'm with you" was demanding to be written. BTW, you may wanna get your patoolas over to read it if you're reading this one, it'll make the next few chapters of this make more sense…give you a better insight into Jack/Kyra's mind and that.

Disclaimer – You people tryin to kill me? 'Cause if I have to keep admitting I don't own Riddick, I may have to start believing it, and if I believe it, I may just go take a sixty foot swallow dive outta window! SOB!

Warning – Riddick POV, what do you expect? Lots of naughty words. Advanced warning though, the next chapter will deal with Jacks experience at the hands of the Rykangolls (if you don't know what they are, go read "I'm with you") and will imply and discuss torture and rape, although it will not go into detail. And it won't just be about Jack either… (Zips mouth closed before revealing too much).

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The junk runner's touching down on planet side again. The tiny merchant ship comes once or twice a month to dump its waste onto this rock, away from all other civilization.

All save me. Only I don't count.

Most of its just sludge and crystals, worthless bi-products from what is being made in the factory. But sometimes, the products that they make but can't sell are thrown into the crates as well. Junk most of it. Useless. But I check anyway. Things can always be broken down and re-used. Burnt out power conduits can be re-charged by one of the bi-products over time. They're not very effective, but they start fires well enough. Also, the empty crates make good homes for creatures over time. The places this are left become hunting grounds for predators, and therefore hunting grounds for me.

I shift amongst the shit the runner's left behind, and find nothing of interest.

Except...

A glimmer of metal catches my eye...a familiar scent, masked by another.

Jack's Shiv.

I pick it up and jump onto one of the crates.

I can't see her.

But she's here.

I can hear her heart. I scan the area, and I hear the pace increase as I scan some of the creates on the far end of the dump-ground.

I jump down off of the crate and head towards her.

I know where she is.

I can hear her, smell her.

It's an animal thing.

It's saved my life.

And I have never been happier to have it.

I stop five feet from her hiding spot.

A shift of snow.

I flick of dark hair.

Jack.

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"Are you gonna sit there in the cold all day, Jack?"

"Shit," I mutter. He's seen me. There's my first test failed.

"Come out," he calls.

I stand and look at him. Just look. His hair's longer, and he has a beard more or less the same length. I smile as I realize his hair is the same length as mine now.

His voice is gravelly, as though he hasn't used it in a long time. I mentally kick myself. Of course he hasn't used it in a long time, who the fuck's he been talking to here?

But he doesn't seem so different.

If only I could say the same. So much has changed…so much is different.

"I told you to stay in New Mecca."

That's all he has to say for himself?

I open my mouth to snap something foul at him, but he's already turned away, and I'm left staring at his retreating back once more.

Go after him…part of my brain dictates. Only a small part, but that part which is much akin to a whining seven year old. It must be listened to.

I wait until he's up ahead a little, before I begin after him.

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I know she's following me...from a distance, of course, but she's doing it. I don't know whether or not she's trying to remain hidden or not, but it doesn't matter. She's still here. She's here...she shouldn't be. Why the fuck is she? I left her in New Mecca for a reason...I wanted to keep her safe, and she's safe away for me. I changed; I'll admit it, but the rest of the universe? Yeah fuckin' right. To them, I'm still Richard B. Riddick. Escaped convict. Murderer. It was once a title I was proud of, but now? Now I wish I could just remove it. Like a badge showing my rank in the military, like I could just take it off.

I wish that I didn't have to run anymore.

I wish I could just forget that my life happened. Yeah. That's what I want.

I wanna wake up tomorrow morning and think I was someone else. Ash something. Or Brian. Something simply and pathetic and normal. The muscles are just something I got to impress my girlfriend and then decided I like, and the infinite scars I have are from fights I got in when I was a kid.

And Carolyn would be there…

I'd wake up, a normal man, beside his normal girlfriend.

And Jack would be there. She's wake up believing she was...I don't know. Not my daughter. That's just...not something I can do. Hear a child call me 'dad'. Niece maybe? Younger sister?

I don't care.

But for it to be real...I would give anything for it to be real.

I got back to the cave I settled in. It's my home. Well, the place I live, the place I sleep in relative safety. The skiff's still there. Doesn't work any more, but it's warmer and safer than sleeping out in the open, or even in the cave. There are some big hairy mother fuckers around, and I personally do not relish the idea of waking up dead.

She's here,

I can see her, standing outside of the cave, snow flying around her. When did it start snowing again? S'not like me to be so unaware of my surroundings.

She doesn't know whether to come in or stay out, but she doesn't want to run, and she doesn't want to speak.

She knows that no matter what she does, it'll be wrong.

She shouldn't even be here.

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I can't believe this…here I stand, having found him at last, and I almost wanna apologise to the bastard for coming as much as I wanna kick his ass for makin' me come!

But I had to come. He has to understand that.

I wish he could understand that even though I may be safer away from him, I was no where near as happy. Why the hell else would I have left looking for him? Why else would I have done what I did…?

I know he's seen me, and I know he's waiting for me to make the first move, just as I'm waiting for him.

Sorry, Riddick I think. Privilege of childhood. I get to wait for you.

We both know he'll give first, and so we're both waiting until he's ready. It's a game I grew to know well on the skiff on the way from the Kublah Kahn to New Mecca. There are very few limits to what he'll do, especially for the right person, but he'll have to do it in his own time. He came back for us on T2...in his own time. He saved me in the Kublah Kahn...in his own time. He was even a complete softy one night when we were on our way to New Mecca and I couldn't sleep, haunted by the face of the woman I killed on that bloody ship...my first kill. I woke in a cold sweat, my heart racing. Imam was asleep, but Riddick wasn't. He swung his legs off of his bed and came over to sit on mine.

"You okay?" He asked.

I didn't know whether he was being polite or whether he actually cared...I mean, come on, this is Riddick here. Politeness and caring are completely alien to him.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.

I don't know what he thought or how he took it, but for a long while, we just sat there. I think he knew what was bothering me, and I even think he wanted to help, but he didn't know how.

Eventually, he gave up. He stood up to go back to bed, and I wanted nothing more than to call him back. Well, not true. I wanted him to see me as not a child, not someone who needed sheltering and protecting and babying, and that's why I didn't call.

But he knew.

He stopped a few feet away, and told me;

"I realise it doesn't come as much consolation, but for what it's worth you saved my life. Take what comfort you can from that."

And I did.

I killed.

But it was for him. Therefore, it was worth it.

He's worth anything back then.

And he still is…

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I'm not worth her safety.

I'm not even worth the affection she keeps showing for me. It's why I left.

"You should have stayed gone," I tell her eventually.

"You should never have left me there." She accused.

"I had my reasons." I try to defend, but I know they amount to shit on her.

"They weren't good enough, whatever they were!" She shouted.

"You know shit about why I left." I spit out. It's not true. I know it's not true. She might only be a child, but much as I hate to admit it, she does know me. Better than anyone else alive, in fact. Better than Imam, despite his years and wisdom. There are some things you can't understand until you've done them.

Like murder.

"You gonna just sit out there, Jack?" I ask eventually.

I almost hear her annoyance, and wonder what the hell I did wrong. She doesn't say anything, though.

"You don't want me in there."

"Well I ain't gonna let you fuckin' freeze to death out there." Stupid kid.

But she still won't come in.

"I'm not coming in that cave with you," she tells me before she turns to walk away. What the hell is this kid doin'?

"Fine then," I call after her as I jog out of the cave and past her. "You stay. I'll fuck off into the cold."

She tries to grab my arms as I walk past, but I shrug it off.

"I'm sorry, okay!" she shouts after me. I hadn't realised she was crying, but her voice did nothing to hide it. I stopped as she continued.

"I wanted you to be glad that I was back. I wanted you to want me to be here! But you..."

"What did you expect?" I cut her off. "If I wanted you around me, I wouldn't have left you with the Holy Man."

I don't know what to do. I don't want to face her, but I hate having my back to someone I'm fighting with.

I feel her coming up behind me, and I don't walk away. I don't even want to.

"I just didn't want to be alone again."

"You weren't alone," I snap. "Imam was there, and fuck knows Holy man's better at all this daddy shit than me. I don't have a kid, because I don't want a fuckin' kid. I don't want a family, I never did. All that hugs and kisses shit, fuck it. It's not what I want."

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I ain't a softy, and I ain't a family man, I never was, but although I won't admit it, not even to the kid, I do want...something.

"I don't want a family either, Riddick." she tells me. She doesn't mean it, though. I've met kids like her before...shit I used to be one. "I just don't wanna be alone. Imam was there, but he doesn't...understand. Even you don't, you can't."

"You don't know what I understand."

"Do you understand what it's like to be tortured into murder?" she asks harshly. I spin on her. She couldn't mean...

"Care to explain?" I ask, so quiet I doubt she hears me. I know why it is I barely ask the question…I don't want to have to hear the answer.

But I gotta know what happened to her.

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End Notes – As I mentioned already, next chapter gets a little more intense. You have been warned. Though I know what I'm like. I'm a bloody softy…probably the worst thing I'll actually describe is a stumped toe or something.

Review! I ain't up-dating until I get three reviews, so get to it!