Black with Blue
Riddick's POV
He hears the man's life go out, but it doesn't register. He settles down next to his Jack.
She'd landed on her back, so he didn't have to roll her over.
His fingers gently caress her throat. He makes a displeased rumble in the back of his throat.
Satisfied that all will be well once he gets her to his ship, he picks her up. He lowers his head and takes in a deep whiff of her scent.
It's almost completely hidden by the blood scent.
He walks away with his Jackie girl in his arms. He didn't know a thing about her past, he realized.
Stalking back the way he had come in, he takes his girl home.
Jack's POV
I'm dreaming, I gotta be. I know what's out there in the world of consciousness, and I want no part of it.
Unfortunately, my body needs a few things taken care of. Like taking a piss.
Strange, I'm some place soft. I feel so incomplete, as if I just lost something important to me.
Cautiously I open my eyes. I know I did, even if it's blessedly pitch black.
I hear someone else's breathing and freeze.
Their breathing is slow and steady, but that doesn't mean anything, so is mine.
I listen to their heartbeat. Slow and steady, doesn't mean anything. All the good convicts learn how to control their heartbeat.
I take a cautious sniff. They smell so achingly familiar, whoever they are. Musky and definitely male.
Slowly, I try to slip off the bed. Strong arms wrap around me like lightening and bring me backwards into a strong chest.
O-kay. So I'm not going anywhere. Not soon anyway.
"Where were you going?"
His voice is gravelly and deep, it's so sexy! I feign sleep.
I hear him listen to my breathing and heartbeat.
"I know you're awake, Jack."
How the hell does he know my name! Was he in a Slam I dominated?
"Answer me," I hear and feel him rumble.
"Away, away to where my head doesn't ache," I whisper.
His arms tighten convulsively. Okay, so I'm important to him. Why?
What's going on? My head hurts every time I try and figure out why he's so familiar to me.
"Why are you so familiar? How can you be so familiar and so different from what I know?" I whisper again.
"Don't you remember, Jack?" he sounds a little upset.
"Remember what?" I'm officially freaked out now.
"T2, Imam, the hammer heads, …Me?" he sounds a little desperate.
"I remember T2, I remember that I was one of the three survivors, I remember Imam, I don't remember anything about the third." I sotto-voice, but he hears me.
"Nothing?" he sounds hurt, deeply so.
I don't know what I remember and what I don't, I feel so lost. I remember smelling you and blood, I remember that it angered me, I even remember being glad to see you. I just don't remember why. I feel so lost, what is real and what is dream?
"I'm real, and so's what I feel for you."
Shit! I didn't mean to say that out loud.
I think he feels me panicking, because he tightens his grip and tells me to go to sleep. Good idea, things'll make more sense when I'm asleep.
Things fade into a deeper darkness.
Riddick's POV
She didn't remember him. He'd seen the recognition in her eyes when she caught his scent, seen her eyes lighten when she saw him.
He'd barely been able to keep from taking her as he'd cleaned her up, could he restrain himself now that she didn't remember him? Would she be scared of him now that she didn't have her memories of T2?
He loosens his grip on her waist. As he moves away so he could tell Imam that he'd be bringing Jack back to him, she whimpers, rolls over, and latches onto his waist. He freezes.
She buried her face into his chest and sighed contentedly. He stroked her hair and lets his hand wander down further.
He runs it down her back, over her ass, and down her leg as far as he can reach. She tightens her grip and moans.
He freezes and feels himself becoming aroused. Of its own violation, his hand slides between her legs to caress her still bare mound. Lightly touching her inner thighs, he feels a scar.
She moans in the back of her throat when he stops.
He starts to pull his hand back and she clamps her thighs together.
He stops, and after a while she sighs and lets his hand go, but he doesn't go anywhere.
She didn't remember him, but he remembered and needed her. As his arms slips around her waist he knows he's not going to call Imam.
She would remember him, even if he had to take her back to Hell for it to happen.