He'd wondered if he should be angry that Jack had simply blown off meeting him at his office. In the end he decided that anger wouldn't help. It would only distract from his attempts to set an example that he hoped the girl would one day choose to follow.

At least she was safe, home, if once again barricaded in her room with the door locked. He tried to get her to come down to dinner, but after a moment or two gave up on calling her name and softly knocking on her door.

Maybe the first day didn't go well. Holy Man said she wasn't the type that got along well with other kids.

The only logical choice was to give her a little peace, let her work her way through it on her own if that was what she wanted.

Shella was completely in denial that there was even another person in the house, had been for days. He wished she would at least make an effort to talk to Jack, let her know that it was okay that she was staying with them. Heck, he really couldn't see why the two of them weren't friends. They could go shopping together and spend his money, throw parties, go to the gym together. Why the intense dislike? Then again, who was he to question it? Obviously this was one of those things that men simply didn't understand, and probably never would.


After they were together that night, he attempted to bring the subject up again, but Shelly was being obstinate; insisted she was too tired to even think about it. She rolled over so her back was to him and promptly fell asleep. That definitely wasn't a good sign. Usually she wanted to cuddle up to him after words.

He pulled on sweats and a beater, taking a brief trip to the kitchen for the bottle of Hydrite in the fridge. His hand hovered over it for a long moment, as a war raged inside him.

"Need to quit drinking that stuff all the time, Dick, too much sugar in it," he mumbled to himself.

After grabbing a water instead, Riddick resigned that sleep was probably the best idea at the moment, and soon after he trekked up the stairs and slipped back into bed without waking Shella, he too became lost within its depths.

He could smell the death all around him. It filled his nostrils, nearly suffocating him. Humans, and monsters alike, all dead. All but a very select few. Fry, the holy man, the last of Imam's boys, Jack, and Johns. And him. Running, never getting any closer to the skiff in spite of how close it appeared. Gun shots. He looked back. Johns had killed the boy.

"Cutting the fat," he explained shortly. "He was holding us back, now keep moving!"

What did he care? Jack was still safe. The holy man was...gone...no matter how Riddick looked around for him, penetrating the darkness with his night vision, he couldn't see where he'd gone. Glimpses, yes, he'd catch those out of the corner of his eye. But no definite sighting when he would whip around to see if it was really him.

Who cared? One less mouth to feed once they were drifting in space.

"I would die for them, Riddick!" Fry, wrestling the gun from Johns as she tried to protect Jack, tried to keep her safe. She died for her trouble. He stood there and watched, still heartless in the face of it.

Again, Johns turned to him. "I did those two, now you do the girl. She'll only hold us back. We'll drag her along behind as bait, keep them off our asses."

"Think we need a bigger piece of bait, Johns," he rumbled dangerously. "The kid's gonna make it. I'm not leaving her in the dark like they left me!"

"Oh really? Would you die for her, Riddick? Cause you're gonna die for her if you save her now. And she'll die too. Do her quick, put her out of her misery. I know you can handle that. Spare her the pain they caused you. She's an orphan, Riddick, you aren't killing anybody's baby here. Spare her from living your life."

He turned his silver eyes on Jack, considering that. She'd found the cave and was huddled inside, monsters of all sorts trying to scrape her out like she was meat in a can.

"Get the fuck away from me! Get the fuck away!" She fought on her own, without calling for him. She didn't expect him to come for her even if she did.

With a quick movement he snatched the gauge from Johns' hands, blowing his head off without hesitation.

"I want you to remember this moment..." he whispered to the corpse that fell before him.

They ran together, seeing the holy man had made it to the skiff and prepared for takeoff. So close, had to get Jack there first. He slipped in the mud, pushing her ahead, ordering her harshly to keep running and not look back.

Hammerhead came at him, bout tore his leg off. Ripped at him, was going to kill him, but they were safe. He'd shown Jack how to set the autopilot, had reprogrammed the damn thing himself. Drilled her on it for a half hour and thank God he had. They would be safe. Imam would know how to use the comm.

He blew away the Hammerhead above him, but they didn't stop coming, until light appeared over him. She'd come back, she'd come back for him. She was helping him get to his feet. He stumbled, putting too much weight on her. They slowly circled as she fought to keep him standing.

"Damn it, Riddick, you are not going to die here! I need you! I'm not fucking leaving without you!"

Coldness, pain, wetness. But maybe it was only the rain, maybe this time it wasn't... The only sound was Jack's slight gasp. She stiffened in his arms as their roles changed, and all of a sudden he was the one holding her up. She managed a tiny smirk for his sake, as she looked up into his eyes.

"Keep me safe, Riddick?" she whispered.

"Always," he swore gruffly, his voice ragged with pain. Why now, why did she have to ask now? Why was it so easy to promise now! Why not sooner?

She looked down a little, at the piece of monster that had impaled her through the back. He heard her low chuckle, and almost couldn't believe it. How could she possibly have the strength while she was in that kind of agony?

"Heh, sweet spot. These damn chickens learn pretty quick. But then again, they learned from the best. Riddick." Then she was torn away from him and again he fell to his knees.

This time, there would be no one to call him back to life from the skiff. This time, he was going to die.

"Not for me, Jack," he whispered pathetically.

"Riddick!" Her scream came from the darkness, from far away. There wasn't any way he could help her now. Even if he had her back in his arms, she would die there. "Riddick!"

He hadn't been able to save her, he hadn't saved himself.

Riddick jerked awake, sitting bolt upright and throwing the sheets aside as he tried to start breathing again, tried to figure out just where the hell he was.

"Riddick!"

That had been real enough. In the darkness he scrambled from his bed, down the hall to the locked door that stood between him and Jack. It wasn't enough to fucking stand between him and Jack, and it sure as hell wouldn't be doing it for long.

He'd make sure of that.

He led with his left shoulder, crashing through as the door buckled under the terrific force he exerted on it.

He instantly recognized that she was in the thralls of her own nightmare, tossing and turning as it tortured her, gripping her tight and refusing to let her go even as he grabbed her up, holding her to his chest.

"I've got you, I've got you, Jack. Come on, baby, wake up. You aren't there, you're here, you're safe," he whispered, trying to bite back the fear that she was going to get lost in her memories of that planet, and he'd never get her back. He wouldn't be able to return the favor, wouldn't be able to call her back to life.

She didn't cry when she woke up, like she had so many times back when they were living in New Mecca's capital. She just sort of froze, her hands balling into fists, her teeth clenching. Her whole body shook, and when she opened her eyes they were unblinking. Visions of death were all she could see.

At first he thought she was having a seizure, especially when he couldn't even force her fists open, stop her nails from digging into her palms until they bled.

She's paralyzed. It's like those times she'd freeze and wouldn't move out of fear. But it was never this bad...

And then there was the strangest part. She smelled like blood. Not the normal kind he expected now and then. This was straight blood, it covered a good portion of her body. Not a huge amount, but enough to tell of the trauma she'd experienced that day.

"Holy shit, kid. What happened to you?"

She didn't respond, merely clung to his thin shirt with both fists, whimpering occasionally.

"Riddick," she whispered, but he couldn't tell if she said it because she knew he was there or because she was still trapped somewhere in a dream.

"I'm here, Jack, tell me you know where you are. Tell me what happened to you."

"She killed, Riddick. She killed him. I tried to stop her but I couldn't. Now I think she's going to kill me too," Jack whispered back, a shiver running rampant down her spine.

"Jack, please, tell me who beat you up."

Her eyes slid shut, her body stilled momentarily. "Boys, at school."

Finally, some progress. He doubted she was awake, but in her dream at least she was speaking to him. "Which boys, Jack?" he asked, running a hand up and down her side, trying to help her relax.

She swallowed loudly before whispering, "Johns Matthews. Kid named Steve. He had blonde hair."

He didn't try to wake her any more after that, hoping for some kind of explanation of what she'd been talking about before, about him dying. When she finally slipped into a deeper REM sleep, her breathing becoming slow and regular, he gently laid her back down, removing her shoes and covering her up. Then he slipped silently from her room, wondering downstairs to prowl around in the dark, pacing back and forth through the house. It was better than returning to his own nightmares.

After all, if he couldn't do anything about his own horrifying dreams, how the hell did he expect to help Jack with hers?

But at least, he thought, wiping the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. At least she didn't die in your arms tonight.