24. On The Table

Riddick watched Jack follow Don across the bay. He didn't spare a moment to wonder how Don had managed to bring her without any outward protest, or about her outfit. He simply updated the flight plan to put them in the take-off queue. In minutes they were undocked and on the hook. With anti-grav he could have lifted straight up from the dock, but he let the system pull them clear before he engaged the engines.

When Don took his place in the co-pilot's chair, Riddick didn't comment. Jack didn't accompany him. That suited. Riddick set their course, and watched the proximity radar for any small craft pursuit. There was none.

"Did she say anything?" He finally asked Don.

"No. She's in her cabin." Don replied.

Riddick only nodded. If Don wanted to ask about Zemma he made no indication of it, opting instead to change the subject.

"I'll take first watch. I set up some new security protocols. I want to test them out while we're in system. Won't take long."

Riddick nodded again, and rose to leave. "Page Jack. I want to see her in my cabin in an hour." He left without waiting to see Don nod.

Zemma's position hadn't changed since he left, but he could see some changes none-the-less. Her eyes were closed in sleep, her face was pale and sweaty, her cheeks flushed with fever. He laid a hand on her forehead; she was burning up.

Part of the hypnosis? Like any soldier meant to spend time planet-side, she'd been inoculated against most common diseases. Riddick stripped off her boots and clothes, looking closely for any sign of red blotches or raised bumps.

He didn't find any. She was just soaked with sweat, and starting to shiver in her sleep. He wrapped her in blankets and turned up the heat, before heading to the med-lab. He found what he was looking for; a little diagnosis tool, it shot a few specialized nanos into the system, then read the evaluation of white blood and viral count.

The plague wouldn't register, of course. Everything else would.

The room was too warm for him when he returned, but Zemma still shivered in her sleep. He ran the needle into her arm briefly, and went to take a shower. There still weren't any lesions, so he didn't let himself worry. Still dripping water, he returned and ran the reader from her wrist to shoulder.

High viral count, high antibody count… 'port cough'. Relief washed over him. He dried and dressed, foregoing a shirt in the too warm room. She would have come down with the fever in a few days, stress just lowered her resistance, so it hit her fast. There still wasn't a cure for the common cold, or flu.

Riddick sat on the edge of the bed and picked up her shopping bag. It felt light. He pulled out the little black dress, and it came out unwrinkled. It looked like it might hit her mid-thigh. It bunched at the waist, and had small off the shoulder sleeves. Crisscrossing spaghetti straps ran up to a throat strap. It was simple, without gaudy adornments.

The door chimed softly.

"Come in."

His voice unlocked the door, and Jack pushed it open slowly. She was dressed again in her usual black on black, instead of the costume she'd worn from Red's.

"I don't think that's your size," she quipped quietly, not sure how he would take joking right now.

Riddick only nodded without looking at her. "Close the door. I wanna talk to you." He dropped the dress on the bed beside him. Elbows on his knees, hands dangling between his legs, he looked down into the now empty bag at his feet.

Jack slid in, and shut the door with a soft click, but didn't approach. She looked briefly at Zemma sleeping but stayed focused on Riddick. "Wore her out already?" She tried a grin.

"She's sick."

Jack froze. With his lenses down in the lighted room, Riddick could see the fear on Jack's face from the corner of his eye.

Yes, something scared her more than him.

"It's just the flu."

"Your sure?"

"It's not the plague."

"But, how do you know?" Her voice was very small, her body pressed against the door.

"I've seen that plague. It's a measles strain, exclusive to Earth. Extinct there, except in a few labs. Unknown to the universe at large."

"But, how do you KNOW?"

She wasn't listening.

"Because," Riddick let his voice raise a little. "The plague came from the same damn place YOU came from." He looked her in the eye. That got her attention.

"How do you know all this, Riddick?"

"Same damn place I came from," he looked back down at the empty bag and wanted to laugh.

He could tell she wanted to keep asking the same question over and over again: How did he KNOW? He decided to skip ahead.

"Your mother had a book, the same story you told me five years ago. Man in the Iron Mask."

Jack nodded but didn't come any closer.

"There was a letter in it."

Jack nodded again. It had been a long time since she'd seen either, but they were always clear in her mind when she wanted to look for them there.

"Did she tell you who you were?"

"No."

"I was sent to kill you." He let that sink in. Jack didn't respond at all. "But instead, I killed the man who killed your mother."

Jack felt her heart pounding so hard she was afraid Riddick could hear it. Riddick was one of Them. Hypatia had warned her about Them…

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

"What happened to you after your mom was killed, Jack?"

"Hypatia happened."

Riddick frowned, not following.

"She said bad men killed my mom and were after me. She took me away." Jack didn't care to go on about the months that followed. She'd been so afraid the first time she went to slam. She thought slam was hell. It was just slam. She'd already escaped hell when she escaped that devil-woman.

"Hypatia doesn't sound like any Family name I knew."

"Family?"

"Where your mother came from. Where I came from. Where you come from. Where the plague came from. It all goes back to the Family and the highest bidder."

"And they sent you to kill me and her? Why? Hypatia said I was valuable."

"Someone sent me because he knew I wouldn't kill you. I don't do kids. Someone else sent another assassin who got sloppy with your mother when she wouldn't give you up."

"I can still see her face sometimes," Jack whispered.

Riddick threw Jack a quick glance, but she was looking at her own feet.

"Her face was all bloated and purple. Her fingernails dug bloody holes around the cord, trying to get it off her neck."

Jack and Riddick were both looking in the past, but seeing different things. Riddick thought the image of Carmen's badly cut neck must be too much for Jack to remember clearly. He decided to change the subject. "Did you call yourself Carmen, back there, to get my attention?"

"Carmen? She was the last dancer that was my size." Jack shrugged one shoulder.

"That was your mother's name in the Family."

Jack shook her head, still looking at her feet, looking at her past. "My mother's name was Sarah."

Riddick shrugged. Would the woman use her real name, even to her daughter? "Do you ever think about Carolyn?" He sighed as if he wished he didn't.

"All the time."

"I was going to leave you on that planet."

Jack didn't say anything, she couldn't.

"She made me go back for you. She said she would die for you."

"Riddick…"

"You think I'm some big hero…" he took a short breath. "She said she wouldn't die for me… not for me… then she came. She died in my arms, coming back for me. Why did she do that?"

Jack didn't say anything at first. The silence was painful.

"But you did come back for us in the hole."

"I wasn't going to…"

"But you did," Jack raised her voice a little to interrupt him. "You did," she said softer. "That's why she went back for you. No matter what you were thinking before, it's what you did that matters."

"She shouldn't have."

"Does it matter now?"

"I don't know. I don't know… She won't leave me alone."

"You said Richard B. Riddick died somewhere on that planet."

"Yeah."

"So, why tell me, now?"

"I was gonna leave you here, too."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not your fucking hero. Because, you should be pissed at me… not her." He twitched his head in Zemma's direction.

"Look, just because she's your latest bint, doesn't put her up for saint-hood. Though putting up with you…" Jack did kinda like Zemma, but this was getting very heavy feeling, and she wanted out of the room.

"She was pregnant."

What? Was? Jack held her breath.

"She miscarried after you pushed her over the rail on the Basilica." Riddick didn't look at Jack, he was kicking the side of decorative paper bag with one bare toe.

"I…I…" Jack wanted out this room more than ever. Holy Hells. No wonder he'd been so pissed.

"You didn't know. She didn't know. I didn't know." Riddick went on. "Now you do."

"I'm sorry, Rid," Jack whispered. God was she ever sorry. Fuck. Riddick didn't look at her, but he nodded once.

"You decide you're done riding with us, you tell her goodbye, and leave like a real person. No fucking around. No sneaking away."

"Like you did?" Damn it. She didn't want to piss him off anymore today, but her mouth just wouldn't stay shut. She waited for his outburst.

Riddick sighed. "Neither one of us is an angel, Jack. Tell me, what the hell was I supposed to do? Don't tell me what you wanted when you were kid. Tell me now that you're all grown up and wise in the ways of this fucked-up universe. Could I have kept you alive with mercs on my neck all the time?" His voice was low, slow and cold.

"You could have stayed…" she started.

"I never lied to you. Don't lie to yourself."

Jack didn't answer. She'd fantasized so many times about how she thought it should have been. Her monster-slaying hero protecting her from all the badness that haunted her… then settling down to a home cooked meal at the end of the day.

Cooked by who? Her? Him? Could either of them even boil water without burning the salad? Jack laughed a little, drawing Riddick's look.

"I used to think about you and me sitting down to dinner every night, with flowers on the table." She didn't say that they held hands in her dream.

Riddick snorted, a little amused at the vision. "I didn't know you could cook."

"I can't." Jack grinned. "I can't remember eating anything that didn't come on a tray."

"Me either."

Riddick grinned a little, and Jack felt good to have caused it. She felt a little more at ease.

Riddick turned the empty bag over and shook it slightly. "What's wrong with this picture?"

Jack didn't track.

"You were out all day shopping, and all she bought was this dress…" he held it bunched in one hand before dropping it in the empty bag. "Why didn't you take her to get shoes too?"

"Shoes?" Jack thought he was kidding.

Riddick waved towards an open closet across the room. Few things hung there: A long silvery dress that sparked, a few shirts and cargo pants, those silky things Jaron liked to wear too…

"Ivory Tower, Jack. She didn't think about shoes, she doesn't own any that will go with this dress…"

Jack saw a single pair of silvery flats in the closet under the silver dress. A pair of deck shoes lay at the foot of the bed. A pair of boots peeked out from under a discarded crew jumper on the closet floor. Jack realized she was looking at the entirety of Zemma's wardrobe.

"I need you to watch out for her, Jack. Teach her how to function out here. On the Basilica they would have just sent the shoes to match the dress. It didn't occur to her to buy them."

Jack snorted, "She tried the dress on backwards…"

Riddick chortled a little and shook his head.

"I wasn't there for you, Jack." He didn't look at her, just at the bag. "Now, you don't need me anymore."

Jack thought about the shadow she thought might have followed her and Don from Red's.

"Will you look out for her for me, when I'm not there?" He looked at her, lenses down, in the bright light of the room. Barefoot, with a short growth of hair on his head and face, brown eyes instead of blue, hunched over his knees and looking at Jack sideways… he didn't look anything like the infamous Riddick she'd first met and idolized.

He just looked like a man.

"I need your help, Jack. I don't know if you realize how hard this is for me to ask."

He sounded just like any man.

Jack nodded silently.

"Did she…uh… really ask… for me to come back?" Jack found her voice a little.

"No." Riddick answered. "She demanded it." Riddick looked her in the eye. "And you are going to apologize."

"Why?"

Riddick cocked one eyebrow at her, a scowl started to form.

"I mean, why did she want me… back here?" Jack rushed out.

"She likes you, I guess." Riddick didn't make that sound impossible to understand. "She needs a friend. She picked you."

Jack snorted. It wasn't like there were a lot of choices.

"No fucking around, Jack." Riddick's voice held some of the old warning in it. "No more trouble. No more running away. You're not thirteen anymore."

"This, from the king of avoidance." She didn't mean to sneer, she just didn't know how NOT to.

"I deserve that… She doesn't." Riddick stood, picked up the bag and walked to the closet. He took out the dress and hung it there.

"Why'd you run?" He turned from the closet to face her again.

"I dunno." Jack crossed her arms and dug her toe into the carpet. "I was feeling, kinda… out of place. Seemed like time to go."

"Still feel like that?"

"Am I just here to keep your girlfriend company?"

"Stay to keep me company." He cocked his head sideways, challenging her.

"I dunno, Riddick…"

"I wouldn't have remembered shoes either." It was an olive branch.

Jack smiled. "Have I told you you're so full of shit your eyes are brown?"

Riddick smiled back.