Trapped In Black

By: night flame miko

AN: Hello peoples!

Man, I had almost forgotten what it was like to start a fic! You know, the steady build up of readers and reviews :D After writing 'An Idle Mind' though, it's kind of nice to just go back to a story that I can write cause I enjoy it. It's scary how much pressure reviews can put on a person :P

But I'm really, really enjoying writing this. It's got two potentially wonderful characters that I can build on, and I've got the whole of the 'Pitch Black' plotline to work with!

*rubs hands together and cackles evilly*

Lets see what can be done with that, eh?

Warning: This is going to be a slash fic. In other words, it is going to be a boyxboy story. So don't come to me if you ignore this warning, and then get annoyed that you read it and found out too late that it was going to be a slash story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

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Harry hummed softly to himself, tapping his cane lightly on the ground as he watched the desert landscape around him. There really was nothing better for him to do, considering most of the others had gone off to explore and see if there was any form of life on this planet. The only people to stay behind were Zeke and Shazza who were the two Australian prospectors, as well as himself.

He'd had to stay behind, the others worried about him travelling far on his 'wounded' leg, and the double threat of Riddick going missing. Of course Harry had alerted them to their prisoners' disappearance, considering it would seem slightly suspicious if he didn't. 'Unfortunately' it had taken him quite a while to limp to Mr. Johns and question innocently about where, exactly, the prisoner was supposed to be chained. As Harry had noticed when he went 'looking for his cane' that the prisoner was no-where to be seen.

His question had sent Johns running, and it wasn't too much longer that a stream of curses and the sound of things being thrown could be heard from within the ship. Harry had simply smirked before replacing his expression with worry and then spreading the news to the other survivors, just in case Riddick got a little 'kill happy'.

One could never be too cautious. And he may as well give the others a fighting chance, if Riddick did decide that he wanted them all dead. Of course, Harry personally didn't think Riddick was the type to kill indiscriminately, only when a person/s got between the man and his freedom/survival.

Automatically raising his eyes to the sky when it felt like quite a bit of time had passed, he cursed quietly to himself when he realised that there were 3 suns and that looking at the sky was not going to inform him of how much time had actually passed. Instead all he could do was watch the tiny figure of Zeke begin to dig into the ground near what looked like anthills. The Australian had said something about feeling useless standing around and that he was going to go dig a grave for the Captain and Greg Owens (the man who had died saving the passengers as Harry finally found out). Harry could understand the sentiment; if he didn't entertain himself soon he might hurt something.

Looking for a way to distract himself he sighed when nothing appeared. Instead he turned his attention to his long black pants. The one leg was ruined from the piece of metal and blood that had dried into it and by now the long length and black colour was seriously causing him to be affected by the heat. He was originally going to wait until he could find a way around what was taking his magic as soon as it left his body, but he figured he may as well do something about it now. Even if they were his favourite pair.

Looking around to make sure there was no-one within sight, other than the distant figure of Zeke, he activated the magic in the bands around his wrist, using it to mould the end of his fingers on the one hand into blades. Reaching down with the normal hand he pulled the material away from his leg and began cutting it away with his bladed fingers. Moving quickly he didn't care that he was doing a less than decent job of his pants, preferring to work more for speed than quality. Finishing the one leg he let the material fall to the ground before forming the blades on the opposite hand and going at the other pant leg. When he was done all that was left was some black pants that ended just above the knee-ish, they were too flayed at the bottom to have a definite length.

Shrugging at the fashion disaster he tossed the material away after letting his hand return to normal, absently rubbing at his metal wrist bands as the feeling of activated spell-magic faded. Ever since he got them, the magic in them had created a constant almost pleasant tingling sensation in his wrists. He supposed they worked on this planet, despite its magic sucking atmosphere, because the spells were linked to him. The wrist bands and the spells interwoven in them counted themselves as a part of his body, and so the magic wasn't sucked from him despite them not actually being a part of his body.

He supposed he could only thank whatever higher being that may exist for not being left completely defenceless on this planet. Of course, whether he was defenceless or not mattered little, but he preferred to have some measure of control over the situations that encompassed his life.

Picking up his cane he felt the elder wand within it respond to his touch, humming gently in his grasp. Sighing, he once again began tapping the silver wolf-headed cane against the ground, unconsciously humming in tune with the elder wand as he waited for the others to return.

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It was some time later that the others finally walked over the hill, they shouted a greeting to Zeke, one of the group detaching to go tell him what they found whilst the others made their way down to him. Standing up Harry actually contemplated yelling a greeting to them, but refrained and instead gave a nod when Miss. Fry and Mr. Johns came over to tell him the news.

Cocking a head at them he allowed himself to lean against his cane, thankful that the wound used to be on his right leg so he didn't have to worry about having the cane in the wrong hand.

"So, what did you find?"

He couldn't help asking, despite knowing that they had purposefully paused in telling him just to get him to ask first. He almost felt like shaking a head at their childishness but settled for asking, too impatient with their obviously barely contained excited expressions (on Miss. Fry's part at least).

Fry immediately broke into a wide smile at the question, looking ready to burst into a little jig,

"We found an old Coring station a few miles that way" she indicated in the general direction they arrived from, "and guess what was there?!"

Not giving him time to guess she gave a small bounce whilst excitedly continuing,

"An old emergency transport ship! We just have to prep it up a bit and then we can get off this heat-blasted planet! Which, by the way, is known as Hades."

He blinked at the seemingly random ending sentence before realising they had named the planet Hades, not the ship. Rather an apt name if you asked him, although he would have much preferred calling it 'Hell', considering the heat. But then, not all of Earth's old terminology had survived after its destruction.

Shrugging, he let a small smile make it's way onto his face,

"That's very good news. I don't think any of us could have stood being here much longer."

Fry nodded her head, face completely serious before the excitement seemed to break through once again and she went to find Shazza to tell her the news. Harry grinned slightly before looking at the much more serious visage of Mr. Johns. Seeing the alcohol that the man was drinking, he nodded at it and got a separate bottle tossed at him.

He knew he was going to regret it later, considering the liqueur would only dehydrate him faster, but right now he really, really needed some form of liquid in him. Even sitting in the shade the whole day left him feeling parched, and wondering how in the seven hells the exploration group had managed to travel such a distance in this kind of heat.

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A few hours later found Harry once again resting in the shade as the others rummaged through and around the ship, looking for pieces of metal that could possible be used to help fix up their emergency transport ship and get it back into working condition. Harry had offered and even attempted to help the others, but he was the survivor most 'injured' and unfortunately it meant that they were always treating him, as he predicted, as if he might break at the slightest bit of physical labour.

It didn't help that it was his leg that was damaged either, otherwise he could claim that doing 'so and so' didn't hurt whatever it was. Sadly, everything should hurt a leg that at one point had a foot long piece of metal sticking out of it. Or so Imam claimed, Mr. Ogleby seconding that.

About to get back to counting anthills he was distracted by four shots sounding behind him, on the other side of the ship. Grabbing his cane he limped quickly around the ship, wondering whether Riddick had appeared. His question was answered when he saw Zeke standing horrified, staring at the dead body of what appeared to be another survivor from one of the other compartments.

Zeke looked over to him, his hands shaking on the gun,

"I though he was Riddick…I thought he was Riddick…I thought…he was…"

Nodding at the obviously affected man, he simply led him away. Knowing that Zeke, who had probably never killed before, would find something like this difficult. Be it an accident or not.

Zeke accepted some of the alcohol offered him, and Harry simply talked about nothing for a while, knowing that Zeke wasn't listening to his words but needed the sound of a calming voice. Harry honestly couldn't say he was that surprised when Zeke abruptly stood up and disappeared before re-appearing carrying a shovel and the mans body over his shoulder. Every person needed a way to distract themselves after a death, and if Zeke needed to dig the man a grave to do that. Then so be it.

Sitting in the shade for a while he watched the small figure of Zeke disappear as he dropped into his large grave, knowing that now it was only going to get bigger. He was about to go and check on the others who had been there during the accident, when his attention was snapped back to the anthills, dragged there by the horrific screams and gunshots sounding from that direction. Picking up his cane he was about to go investigate when the screams cut off mid-sound. Realising that was never a good thing he began limping as fast as he could in that direction, knowing that he was already too late. Johns ran past him, heading straight for where Zeke had been digging.

Moving after him Harry arrived in amongst the hills a few minutes later to the sounds of enraged shouts and figures dashing in and out of the sand towers. Turning his attention to the hole that Zeke was digging before his obvious demise he looked down only to spot what looked like a man sized tunnel in the side of Zeke's man-made hole, but that wasn't what was most prominent about the tunnel, but rather the large amounts of blood (too much blood) splashed liberally around the entrance and what could be seen inside of it before the darkness hid everything else.

Harry contemplated that for a while, staring at the bloody entrance to the 'natural' tunnel, before finally looking up and staring at the anthills that surrounded this area. He could only wonder if maybe everyone had been a bit hasty to assume that they were the last living things on this dead planet.

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He found out later that the enraged shouts had been caused by Shazza, her having headed towards Zeke right before the screams started but still arrived too late. But when she looked up she had seen Riddick standing across from her looking down into the grave at the bloody tunnel.

She had immediately assumed the worst (who could blame her?) and had begun screaming and had gone after Riddick. Apparently the man would have made it away easily if Johns hadn't hidden behind an anthill and tripped him up as he went past before ripping off Riddick's goggles, causing the convict to be effectively incapacitated.

This had been quite a while ago and now Riddick was once again chained inside the ship, though Harry assumed this time would be more effective then the last time. It was at a time like this that Harry seriously wished that he could use his magic, if not to lighten the heat a little bit, then to at least distract himself from the all to appealing thought of going to watch Riddick again.

There was just something about the man that was pulling at Harry. Even at this very moment, as he sat with his back to the ship, watching the Muslims pray once again and Shazza wander about looking lost and confused whilst Johns and Miss. Fry seemingly got into an argument. All of this was partially lost to Harry as his whole center of focus was on what lay behind him.

That attention was distracted though, when he saw Miss. Fry marching towards the ship in a very determined way, and Harry realised that she was going to go confront Riddick, most likely about Zeke's death. Harry stood up himself with the realisation. If others could go confront Riddick (which would be a completely foolish venture, if you asked Harry), then why couldn't he go and at least watch the man?

Limping at a much slower pace after Miss. Fry, he followed the sounds of footsteps and then talking, arriving to the image of Fry slowly walking a few steps closer to Riddick, who had his eyes shut.

"Closer."

Harry started slightly at the deep, rough voice; almost as if it wasn't used often enough to have been smoothed by time. He watched as Fry took a few steps even closer to Riddick's form before Riddick suddenly lunged at her and she startled back, staring deep into his reflective eyes. Even from the distance Harry was at he could tell that looking into them would be a potentially terrifying experience, those mirror-like eyes reflecting how Riddick saw everyone: as Prey.

There was a small smirk playing on Riddick's face as he slowly let himself sit back, still holding Miss. Fry's gaze. She took a shuddering breath, closing her eyes before releasing the breath in a drawn out sigh and slowly re-opening them,

"What do you want from me, Riddick? Do you want to know that you scare me? Because you do."

Riddick let out a bark of his version of laughter before shaking his head slowly, looking something dangerous even as he sat almost proudly on his twisted metal throne, his arms stretched out away from his sides, so that he couldn't use them to free himself.

"All of you so fear me, and any normal day I'd take that as a compliment, but it aint me you gotta worry about any more."

Settling back Riddick closed his eyes, giving a clear dismissal. Fry tried asking a few more questions, but that seemed to be Riddick's quota of the day, as she got nothing more out of him. Finally she left, looking just as, if not more determined then when she arrived. Shaking his head slightly, he wondered whether Miss. Fry got the answers she was looking for, despite Riddick's silence.

Deciding he had had enough of watching, Harry stepped around the metal he had been leaning against whilst he watched everything. Slowly Riddick raised his head and cocked it to the side at the sight of who was coming towards him, before the convict smirked slightly.

"So you finally decided to come out and play?"

Walking until he was in front of Riddick, Harry let himself sit down and lean against the jumbled mass of ship parts behind himself, his cloak spreading itself on the ground under and around him, before finally looking up at Riddick. Said convict seemed surprised, and Harry didn't blame him. Riddick was the type of wild man that made people need to put themselves on a level footing with him. By putting himself below Riddick he was implying that a) he was submissive or b) he didn't fear Riddick at all and as such had no need to prove himself.

It was, of course, b.

But Riddick didn't know that, and he looked intent trying to figure it out. Harry, in turn, simply shrugged before answering the previous question,

"I'm not sure I feel like playing with you," here he let a slightly quirky smile pass his lips, "maybe another time. For now I'm quite happy with talking."

Riddick's eyes widened slightly before he let that bark-laugh escape once more, and Harry felt a small thrill that he had caused it. He had the feeling that Riddick didn't laugh a lot, especially not for a real reason. Unlike when he laughed at people for their fear (like with Miss. Fry).

Raising and lowering his shoulders, Riddick again cocked his head to the side,

"So what d'ya want to talk about?" Here his face took on a slightly sardonic expression, "About me killin' that guy in the hole?"

This time it was Harry's turn to chuckle slightly, eyes shut as he enjoyed the feeling, not noticing Riddick's slightly widened eyes before they returned to a normal, if not less intense expression,

"Oh who are you trying to kid Riddick?" Harry asked, "You didn't kill Zeke; you're not the kind to involve lots of screaming and blood in your murders. No, if you killed Zeke we probably wouldn't have even known or suspected anything until we either found his dead body or he didn't turn up for too long a time."

Opening his eyes it was to Riddick's head tilted slightly to the side, a curious expression on his face as he tried to label Harry.

"Hmm, you seem to have me down pretty well. And here I don't even know your name." There was a quirk to his lips, as if Riddick was annoyed at himself for not having known the name of his potential enemy. Harry solved that problem as he replied whilst he let his head rest back against the machinery behind himself and looked up at the ships twisted roof;

"Harry J. Potter-Black."

"Hmm."

Harry felt a rush at not looking at Riddick, and not only that, but by leaning back and tilting his head upwards as he was, was exposing his throat. And there was something, not quite terrifying, more like a thrill caused by putting himself in such a vulnerable position before a predator like Riddick. It didn't matter that Riddick was chained down or that Harry couldn't die, he still had all the instincts of a normal human, and right now every one of them was calling him an idiot. And Harry loved it.

He hadn't found someone who could inspire those instincts in such a long time.

Harry heard the sound of a deep intake of air. Lowering his head he looked back at Riddick, only to see the man's mirror-eyes half hooded as the eyes traced their way over Harry's sitting form. Small goose bumps formed on his skin, despite the humid air and a small thrill shot through him again, even though he could tell there was nothing behind the look but a predator smelling out weakness in its potential prey.

Finally Riddick's gaze landed on the now-visible bandage wrapped around his leg,

"I smell blood, not quite fresh but still…(another deep breath)…new." There was a gleam in Riddick's eyes that hadn't been there earlier, the look of a predator starting the hunt of its wounded enemy, or its weakened prey. Most would have found a reason to quickly leave at that look directed at themselves but instead Harry simply watched Riddick, enjoying the feeling before waving dismissively,

"It was just a cut. Nothing to worry about."

And to him that was the truth, he had much worse than that pole sticking out of his leg in his lifetime. Of course for Harry it was nothing. But apparently to Jack, who had been listening in the whole time; it was more than just that.

"Just a cut!"

Jack seemed unperturbed at having the attention of two men like Harry and Riddick on himself and simply got up from where he had been eavesdropping on a stairway leading to the one level up in the ship. Moving off the stairway he waved around a piece of metal that Harry felt he should recognise,

"You had this thing sticking halfway out of your leg! And you call it just a cut!"

Now Harry recognised it, and he wondered whether he should be amused or vaguely disturbed that Jack was keeping that piece of metal. He felt someone looking at him and turning his head to meet Riddick's eyes, said mans eyebrow slightly raised in a movement reminiscent of Harry himself.

Harry simply shrugged and repeated,

"Like I said, just a cut."

Riddick's second eyebrow joined the first and Jack let out a huff, seeming quite put out that Harry wasn't making more out of such a wound. Finally Riddick turned his attention to Jack and said boy started slightly, getting a good look at Riddick's eyes,

"Where could I get eyes like that."

Riddick shrugged dismissively, "You gotta kill a few people."

"I could do that." Jack responded immediately

This time Jack seemed to have vaguely caught Riddick's attention as he tilted his head slightly, regarding Jack before giving a bit more information,

"Then you gotta get thrown in a slam where they tell you that you ain't ever gonna see light again. Then you gotta dig up a doctor and give him 20 Menthol Kools for a shine job on your eyes."

Jack looked fascinated and not at all dissuaded, "So you can see people sneakin' up on you at night."

It wasn't a question but Riddick responded anyway, a slight smirk on his lips,

"Exactly."

Harry looked between the two, not at all disturbed as most might be at the conversation, but rather interested in Jack. Something kept catching his attention about the boy and he couldn't quite place a finger on it…It was the way the boy talked and situated himself, it almost seemed forced. Tilting his head he regarded Jack again, but still couldn't quite get it. He decided to keep an eye on Jack, to see if he could pin point what, exactly, his senses were screaming at him.

Riddick seemed to look at the two people before him, one sitting dismissively on the floor and the other standing with his arms crossed, a defiant look on his face.

"What are you two doing here?"

The question seemed to escape him before he could stop it, but once it was out he internally shrugged. If you can't figure it out on your own, then go the direct route.

Jack seemed lost for words but Harry just blinked before shrugging,

"He wants tobe you and I'm fascinated by you."

Jack spluttered but Riddick just tipped his head slightly before letting out a 'Hmm.'

They both watched as Jack pulled himself together before stating, "I'm gonna go outside. There's prob'ly more interestin' stuff out there anyway."

Riddick and Harry watched him leave, with the former commenting just before Jack was out of sight, "Cute kid."

Grinning slightly as the pouting almost-teen disappeared from sight, he remembered when he was like that, but the grin was slowly wiped from his face as he remembered everything that came with his teenage-hood, e.g. Voldemort. Sighing he thought about how far he had come since then and how much he now knew, but when you have the kind of time he did, there really was nothing better to do then learn. Sure he had done things just for fun as well, but in reality, things are only fun the first couple hundred times round.

"So you're fascinated by me, hmm?"

He turned to look at Riddick at the question, but before he could even formulate a reply Riddick continued. "So is that why you waited to raise the alarm when I escaped earlier? Because you're fascinated by me?" Riddick practically purred the word 'fascinated', his eyes gleaming in the vague light.

Harry grinned slightly but shook his head, "No, that's not why I waited to raise the alarm. I did that because I…admire the will to put yourself through anything to escape. I wasn't about to ruin your chances because of bad timing."

The gleam dimmed slightly but was replaced with a different kind of light as Riddick leaned forward, the chains rattling with the movement.

"You admire my escape? Why? Just because I was willing to put myself through a little pain to avoid imprisonment?" The scorn was obvious in Riddick's voice at the idea of pain dissuading him from freedom, but there was curiosity there too. Riddick truly wanted to know what Harry thought and why. That was the only reason Harry even considered replying.

Harry cocked his head, thinking about the question before choosing how to reply, "Not really, I can understand putting yourself through some pain to get away. Pain is nothing when in that kind of situation…" His voice took on a slightly reminiscent tone causing Riddick to lean forward even further, the light in his eyes becoming sharper as he scanned the figure in front of him with increasing interest. "…It was more your pure determination…I suppose 'admire' was the wrong word to choose, rather…I could…relate? Yes, I could relate to your situation, and wasn't about to ruin it when I know what can prompt such determination to be free…"

Harry looked up only to blink at how far forward Riddick was leaning and with such an intense light in his reflective eyes. Harry got the feeling that Riddick was peeling back the layers of his personality. Trying to figure out what made Harry tick, and Harry could honestly say he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The predator worked best when it knew the habits of its prey. And Harry didn't like being viewed as prey; he just wanted to be Harry. Why did everyone struggle so much with that concept? Even in the years after Voldemorts' and eventually even Earths' demise changed nothing. People always treated him differently, if because of the way he dressed or what he did as a job. It didn't matter. He was never just Harry, and it didn't look like this time would be any different.

Staring into Riddick's eyes he wondered if he should just give up. All these years it had been the one thing he looked for, and the one thing he never achieved. Maybe when he stopped searching, what he was looking for would just come to him? About to withdraw, and leave this as a lost cause, he stopped as something in the way Riddick looked at him changed. Harry had no idea what, as it wasn't like Riddick had changed position or even blinked. But it was less like Riddick was hunting for weaknesses and more like he was curious about what he was seeing, as if he wanted to know why Harry acted the way he did. As if he wanted to know what Harry was doing, going to do and why he was going to do it because it interested him, and for no other ulterior motive.

He blinked and the moment passed. Riddick leaned back, once again wearing the self assured air of someone who knew the intricacies of life and how to work with and around it. Releasing the air he had been holding, Harry let himself lean back against the metal once again, having moved unconsciously forward when he had been searching for his answers. Letting his eyes close Harry felt a small smile cross his lips, which steadily grew into a grin, which increased into a chuckle and finally full blown laughter.

He knew Riddick was wondering about the laughter, but Harry couldn't stop. He laughed like he hadn't in years, because for the first time since he started looking, Harry had a feeling that he had finally found what he had been searching for this entire time. And it lay with a not-so-escaped convict known as Riddick.

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An:

And here is the next chapter! I know. Even I'm surprised with how quickly this chapter came out, I honestly wasn't planning on writing this next bit for a while. But it was like an itch, the type of itch that I couldn't scratch until I had written and put down into words what I had spent the better part of a day thinking about. :P

So here it is, and thank you to all of those who had reviewed. I am glad that I've caught the attention of a few people :D

I can honestly say that I am really enjoying writing this (and even reading it, I have a habit of re-reading my works until I'm absolutely happy with it), and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Till the next chapter,

-night flame miko

p.s. If you ask any questions, I will answer them to the best of my abilities, but if I don't reply to any questions it's most likely because they're going to be answered pretty soon anyway. But if you have any criticisms please go ahead, I love trying to better my writing, it's one of the reasons for all my stories :)