AN: Might be a while before the next one comes out, got more tests coming up. It's really seriously starting to feel like they never end...


To say the least, from Jack's point of view, dinner was subdued. She sat next to Riddick, picking at her food. The tofu was overcooked...again... But who knew, maybe it was supposed to taste like that.

The constant drone of girly conversation didn't bother her much. She was too lost in her own thoughts of whether or not she'd actually announce her leaving or if she'd merely slip away unnoticed in the night. Obviously she had to tell Imam something or he'd worry, but somehow she just couldn't bare seeing the smug satisfaction on Shella's face...

"Oh, Ricky-bear," the bitch crooned.

In spite of the fact that she'd told herself she wouldn't let that woman grate on her nerves anymore, Jack cringed when she heard her hero called by such a disgusting pet name. The fact that he was mostly dead to the world looked like a blessing for the first time as Riddick didn't even seem to notice he'd been addressed. He merely continued to eat, his motions almost mechanical, his eyes glazed. Only Jack seemed to notice that while Rick's lights might appear to be on, no one was home.

"Rick!" Shella half-shouted, at last gaining some sliver of her boyfriend's attention as his fork stopped its regular rising and falling motion just above his plate.

"Hmm?" he finally responded, tiredly gazing in Shelly's general direction.

"Darling, I was just noticing that you shaved your beard while you were gone. The girls and I all think you look very handsome."

Riddick nodded, but Jack didn't buy that he'd actually computed the compliment, merely reacted as seemed appropriate.

Seeming to finally catch on that something might be amiss, Shella stood, walking around the table to stand behind the ex-con. She gently began to massage his shoulders. "Didn't you have a good time on the camping trip, baby?" she asked, sounding oh so concerned.

Riddick merely shrugged. "It was fine. Just tired, I guess," he replied, allowing his jaw to rest on one palm, his dull eyes turning toward Jack, who immediately found something more interesting to look at across the room. She still couldn't bare to look at him. The shame was still too raw on her soul.

"Well, I was going to wait until later to tell you, but since you seem to need cheering up..." Shella trailed off teasingly. Every one of her friends leaned slightly forward in their chairs in anticipation.

Jack allowed her forehead to fall into the crook of her arm and she sighed sadly, staring at the pristine whiteness of the table cloth just an inch from the end of her nose. Oh boy, here it comes, Jackie. Your consolation prize. No matter how this weekend had turned out he was bound to be stuck with her forever and ever. Maybe he's better off this way, not quite living in the present...

"Ricky and I are going to have a baby!" Shella announced, not to cheer up her boyfriend, but to impress her female friends so they could all go 'aww' and congratulate her and fuss and giggle.

Jack was thoroughly un-entertained by the spectacle she could only hear as she buried her eyes more tightly into her arm. It wasn't until she felt something brush against her knee under the table that she perked up, her senses heightening. The next thing she knew, a strong grip was squeezing the blood out of her leg, and she almost yelped when it unexpectedly tightened to the threshold of pain.

She looked up and was stunned stupid to find Riddick's gaze still on her, intensely burning into her, almost through her. Her mouth fell open, just a little as she realized he had reached for her where no one could see.

"Get them out," he whispered so only she could hear. "I swear to God, Jack, if you don't..."

She didn't know what to do. Get them out? How the hell was she supposed to do that? Shella wouldn't listen to her if she told her to go!

"I...I don't know how..." she whispered back, frantically picking her brain for any scrap of an idea. "She won't listen to me..."

His stare once again became glassy, and his jaw tightened measurably, causing the muscles in his face to all stand out. A vein was throbbing at his temple. She wasn't prepared to have his fingers bring further pressure to bare on her thigh, just above her knee joint. A small whimper escaped her lips just before she clamped them shut, biting back against any other unintentional lapses that might try to come out of her mouth.

No one noticed. No one but the two of them knew of the struggle occurring under the table cloth as Jack attempted to free herself. She grabbed Riddick's thick forearm with both hands, trying to pry him off of her. "Rick, you're hurting me," she whispered frantically, nearly gasping when she finally allowed herself the ability to speak.

He didn't seem to notice that she was in pain, or even that she was there.

"Rick!" she begged, nearly screaming as one of his fingertips suddenly dug right into a nerve. Only by biting her own knuckles did she keep any sound from escaping her.

When the worst of that initial wave of pain faded she pulled her pocketknife from its easily accessible location in her cargos and flipped it open, not holding back at all as she stuck him with it, hard.

She would've collapsed with relief when he released her, if she hadn't already been sitting. But she didn't have much time to draw in upon her abrupt freedom. Before the kinked muscles in her leg could cease their spasms, Riddick drew himself up to his full height, his fists clenched, and his right arm bleeding.

At that very second Jack starred up at him in awe and was reminded of what she imagined a Spanish bull would look like the instant before he speared the matador with his horns. Downtrodden, abused, desensitized to his own pain...and mad enough to kill...


To say the least, things got ugly. Riddick literally roared at Shella until she was in tears. Her friends scattered, as did Jack. No one wanted to hang around for that particular lover's quarrel.

Jack listened to the entire proceedings from her room while lying on her back in bed. She heard everything, from Riddick's confusing rant, to the moment when things went dead quiet, and the only thing that could be heard were Shella's pathetic and tearful pleadings while he gathered up her clothes and threw them out onto the street in large garbage bags.

That Jack witnessed while gazing out her window.

The only part she could really make out was Old Horny's repeated question of 'why?' Why throw her out just when she'd told him he was going to be a father? Jack was asking herself the same question. Why blow up just when things became hopeless? She hated to admit it, but even she knew that Riddick would always owe his child something. The kid hadn't done anything wrong, and the last thing Jack wanted was to be responsible for robbing a child of its father. That had definitely never been part of the plan.

Neither had a lot of things...


Hours later, when Shella was long gone, Jack cautiously approached Riddick's room, knocking, and then quietly opening the door.

It was dark inside. The only light she could pick up on at first were the two flashing pinpricks that were staring blankly at the open and mostly empty walk-in closet across the room from the chair Riddick was sitting in.

Having no method of gauging his mood, Jack was reluctant to speak for fear that he would turn on her next. What had she done to him?

"Why?" she asked simply, restating the question that he'd obviously been too enraged to answer earlier when it had been posed by his girlfr...by his ex...

The pinpricks shifted to look at her, and she was encouraged by the fact that they seemed to be taking her in. "I don't know," he rumbled softly in the darkness.

So, it seemed they were both trying to keep things simple. In that case, Jack decided to cut to the chase. "You realize that if she really is..."

"If she is, it isn't mine," he cut her off.

Jack allowed one eyebrow to rise skeptically, knowing he'd be able to pick up on the subtle motion in the dark. "You know that for sure, or are you just guessing? You can't shirk on a responsibility like that, Riddick…"

He just stared at her for a long moment, stripping her bones of flesh with those haunting silver eyes. "How did it go, Jack? First you were a boy, then you were a girl, and finally you were psychic? Doesn't hardly seem logical that you wouldn't have all the answers at your disposal..."

Jack immediately clenched her fists, not much liking his tone. What the fuck did he think he was playing at? "Don't you dare think you can mind fuck with me, Riddick," she hissed. "I know you, I know the real you. You've been playing behind a mask for a long time now, but that doesn't mean that I can't still read you like a God damn book!"

"Then enlighten me, Jack. What could possibly get me so hot and bothered about Shella being pregnant after I spent so much time and effort on our joke of a relationship?" he posed in an almost mocking tone that told her he was baiting her.

"I don't know, Riddick, but if you keep this guessing game shit up you're bound to end up a very lonely man in the incredibly near future," she growled through clenched teeth before turning back to the door, ready to leave him to his miserable half-existence.

Just when she'd reached the door his words reached out to ensnare her again, softer this time, more like Rick Costello than Richard B. Riddick. "Got fixed up in the pen, Jack. That's how I know, that's why I'm sure... Never told anyone, cause I always figured it made me less of a man somehow." A short pause ensued, during which those eyes of his closed. When they opened again, he continued, "I don't know what's happening to me, kid. It was sort of like everything was going along real smooth, and then bang, she practically slaps me in the face with the fact that she's cheated on me and acts like I'm too stupid to realize she's done it. Everything just sort of blew up in my face all at once. They didn't cover that sort of thing...not in any of my classes, anyway..."

"That's probably because they don't know how to handle a Riddick-sized rage issue in a standard anger management class. All they're prepared for is the rest of us mere mortals," she joked weakly, hoping that she was successful in masking the sudden wash of pity she felt rushing through her chest.

In the darkness he laughed shortly, just enough to let her know that he'd gotten the joke.

It was several minutes before either of them spoke again. Riddick slowly levered himself out of his chair, wondering over to look out the window at the twin rising moons as he braced his good arm against the wall. At last there was enough light touching him that Jack could make out more than his outline, and she found that she couldn't help but approach him, drawn in close by a force she couldn't name.

When she reached out to touch his shoulder, he didn't flinch in surprise. If anything, he seemed to relax against her hand, sighing mightily. "Why're you still hanging around me, Jackie? Why aren't you out with some friends right now? Or that frat boy, Derrick? He seemed to really like you," he said, sounding like he was trying to keep things from getting too heavy, even though the effort was hollow.

"You mean Dominic?" she supplied, smirking slightly and wondering if he'd misspoken on purpose or not. His memory had always been better than superb as far as she could remember, even for stickler details like the names of people he didn't like.

"Yeah, right, Dominic... Seems like if he's your boyfriend, you would want to be with him."

Jack smiled slightly as it all suddenly became too clear. Riddick was afraid of being alone, possibly for the first time in his life... She understood that feeling, that sensation of possible abandonment. Right after she'd gotten off the Seka, she'd spent a lot of her time confused, questioning herself. Questioning who Jack was. Questioning if there really was a Jack anymore...

Slowly, she wrapped both arms around his right bicep, hoping that she wouldn't spook him by moving too quickly. Obviously, the time for extreme patience was at hand.

When she turned her eyes up to look at him, she found him waiting intently, if silently, for her reply. She let her smile grow a little, hoping that it would serve as reassurance, even though she knew it was probably more than a little sad. "It feels like there's two people in your head, telling you what to do, doesn't it? One of them keeps telling you that you should do things the way you used to do them, and the other keeps on tilting you toward living the same way you have been. Even though it was forced on you, the new habits seem comfortable and familiar. I know it's a lot easier to just let go of that person you used to be, but you've got to fight, Riddick. I've been fighting for you up until now, but from here on out you've got to help me. And I promise that no matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure that you're all straightened out again," she assured him, hoping too that her promise of commitment wouldn't send him running for the hills.

At last he nodded, seeming to understand the direction she was coming from. But would he believe her? It wasn't like anyone had been particularly truthful with him during his lifetime, and recently even Jack had fallen into the category of people trying to deceive him.

"It's hard," he rumbled, his speech deliberate. "Everything's so jumbled up. I get confused...I don't even know how to act... It's not even about being human or surviving...I don't have any reference points, no place to start... Rick Costello would go after Shella, apologize, listen to her side of things, ignore the fact that the room we've shared for two years smells like another man..." he trailed off.

"But Riddick wouldn't," Jack finished for him.

He shook his head, speaking cryptically. "No, Riddick would go after her too. I don't know how the fuck she did it, Jack, but she hurt me. Maybe it's just in my mind, but it feels like she cut a piece out of my chest. I just can't decide if she took it out of my heart or my pride. If she'd done that to Richard B. Riddick, he definitely would've gone after her. And maybe that's the difference..."

"What is?" she prodded lightly when he didn't continue after a few seconds. She'd been inspecting the scabbed over cuts that she'd inflicted on his forearm at dinner, already planning in her mind how she was going clean and bandage them if he let her.

Nervously, he reached out with his other hand, gently tilting her chin up so she was looking him in the face. "Maybe that's the difference between me and the cold blooded killer who died back on T2. Maybe he didn't have the strength to make it back to the ship... Maybe he didn't hear Jack calling him out of the darkness..."