Author's Note: I do not own Riddick, more's the pity. I did not create Slam, merely this interpretation of it. I did not have any hand in the creation of Pitch Black. I did however create Spook, and the other characters not seen in Pitch Black.
Riddick's low voice set the lights before her eyes to flashing. Her lungs were spasming, trying to draw air. Her eyes were wide with terror.
"You got me here now. You gunna
throttle her for fun?"
Amazing. The thought wandered suddenly through her mind. I didn't realize I'd go numb like this.
The man holding her chuckled. The sound moved through his whole body. Spook could feel it in the strong hand crushing her throat.
"Probably will. It's nice to have control, you know? Even sweeter to take it from another person." He kept his eyes on Riddick, but pulled Spook's unresisting form in front of him, between himself and the huge man. "They told me you ghosted Khyron and his boys."
Riddick only shrugged, rolling his broad shoulders.
"You got shiv-happy on one of my friends, I kill yours." He shook the girl like a rag doll, a vicious smile twisting across his face.
"Which one was your friend? The one who squealed like a girl? The one who pissed himself?"
The hand about Spook's throat tightened.
Her hands were growing even more feeble in their efforts to claw at the one holding her throat. Her body sagged to the floor, one hand wilted to the cold cement. A few more feeble attempts to dislodge the man's strong hand. Then her weak tries ceased, her hand falling across her chest, her body sagging from the firm hold.
"See? They always stop a few moments before they die. I'd had some other plans for her before I killed the little bitch, but since you're already here..."
Riddick's eyes narrowed, the sheen from them barely visible. His hand twitched, the silver curve of a shiv appearing in his grasp. Spook's fingers moves slightly.
"You know what they're saying? They're saying that Riddick's gone soft. They say that this little bitch tamed the Big Bad." He tilted his head, studying Riddick. "Know what? I think they're right."
A shiv flashed in an arc, the narrow blade sinking deep into the man's side. Blood eased around the thin handle of carved bone, staining the hand that fell from the blade. Two pairs of eyes stared at the blade in surprise. One recovered faster.
"You fucking-"the shining gleam of Riddick's blade opened the throat of the man, then twisted in the large hand. Riddick stepped in close, sinking the metal shard deep into the small of his back, next to the spine, just to the left side.
"Told you. You shouldn't hit women. They always get even."
Her throat hurt.
Her cheek hurt.
Her head hurt.
She wasn't in her rabbit-hole.
Spook bolted upright, or as close to it as she could. She couldn't see a damn thing. Her breath came in short pants that made her throat ache even more.
There were coarse blankets beneath her, as well as a coarse mattress. Beside her was a familiar heat, the well-known scent clinging to everything.
"You finally woke up. Was getting worried." That voice, deep, cold, echoing in the darkness.
A torch flared weakly to life.
He was sitting on the outer edge of the rude cot, his back against the wall, one foot up on the cot, knee drawn in towards his burly chest. His hand caught her chin before she saw him move, tilting her face to the side to study the darkening patch around her eye, spilling onto her cheek. He lifted her narrow chin to look at the bruises that marked the pale throat. With a grunt, he released her, turning to the side.
Spook just curled up around her knees, shaking softly.
"He won't bother you again, Spook. Here." In his extended hands lay her pair of shivs, cleaned of all traces of the blood that had stained them, even the carved handles clean. She just stared at them, staring at his hands.
With a silent sob she turned away from him.
Riddick blinked. He tucked her shivs next to his, at his back.
"It's all right, Spook." His hand hovered over her, then lightly descended on her shoulder. He watched her, silent, unsure. She shook, curled up, making no sounds as she sobbed. There was a bruise at the base of her neck; he could just see it where her hair fell to the side. His brows lowered, eyes darkening.
And then he recoiled in shock.
She had twisted around, throwing herself against his chest, her arms over his shoulders, her check resting at his throat, her crown under his chin. She clung to him, her breath catching, shivering. Riddick sat stiffly, blinking, then slowly allowed his arms to settle around her, in an unaccustomed gesture.
"It's all right. You're safe here." He gently touched one hand to her hair, lightly feeling the soft strands beneath his calloused fingers in a foreign caress. She stilled a little beneath the touch, the shaking stopped though she still cried. He felt her hand tighten alongside his neck, felt her heart pounding against his chest.
She could feel the stiffness of his body, where the nervous tension tightened the muscles. His hands and arms were so light around her, as if afraid of touching her. He seemed to scarcely breathe while he held her. Yet his presence, even the smell of blood still clinging to him, strangely soothed her.
"You saved me again." Her voice was so quiet, barely more than a breath.
He just nodded against the top of her head.
"You needed saving, Spook. And I guess I'm just gunna have to keep an eye on you until you learn to not need saving anymore."