Zemma waited for Riddick on the dark of the bridge. She hadn't told Don that Riddick was running late for his shift, so she knew something else was up; something cooked up by the two boys, for Jack.

She did try to turn on the lights, and it was password protected, but not very well. There was a message typed in the code though:

'Zemma, leave it alone. R.'

So it wasn't Don who locked the lights off.

Of the few cameras that Riddick hadn't disabled during his initial scrapping of the ship, none of them had infrared. Zemma had no way to look around the ship, now. She could listen, but in the dark, it would be even more obvious that she was doing so when the comms ready light turned green. So, she turned on the starscape view on the main screens and just waited.

A little while later Riddick strode in without a word, and sat down next to her. He put his feet up on the console, his hands in his lap, and just looked on the stars. When Zemma propped her feet on his thighs, he didn't say a word, but started stroking her calf absentmindedly.

She decided not to ask any of the hundred questions in her head, but just enjoy the quiet moment.

After a few minutes he tugged on her pant leg. "C'mere," he said softly, looking at her finally. Zemma stood up and stepped closer to him, wondering if he wanted to point something out on the screen…

He took her hand pulling her close to him, one hand reaching for and lifting her knee, so that she found herself straddling his lap. He pulled her down so that she was sitting on him. His hands ran slowly up her arms, giving her shivers.

"I was just thinking…" he started slowly. "That travel was so much easier when I was alone. I could just blue juice it; wake up when I got there. No worries. No hassles."

He looked up into her face; she could see his eyes shining in the dark.

"I think I like this better," he told her, his hands roaming over more than her arms now.

Zemma snorted, half amused, and flattered. A smile crept over her face, and she could see the planes of his face change in a responding grin. She put both her hands to his face and stroked lightly with her fingertips, tracing the little-used muscles of his smile. She leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "Richard…"

"Mmm?"

"I…" but Zemma wasn't destined to say the words first, as much as they bubbled and tickled to get out: Don strode in.

Zemma sat up suddenly, embarrassed to be caught in such a position, but Riddick didn't let her leap away. He caught her arms, and pulled her close enough to kiss slowly, before letting her scramble off him to stand at loose attention for Don's benefit. She waited for one of the two men to speak.

Don went first. "She's in the med lab. Cut her hand." He was, as usual, brusque and brief. Zemma thought she detected something else now, something she hadn't recognized before; or perhaps hadn't been there before: a tone of voice, or just the timbre of it, that spoke concern.

"I don't want her skipping her duties," Riddick's tone, on the other hand, was hard. No cheating on the test, it seemed to say.

"Leaving the lights off wont give her lenses," Don seemed to be admonishing Riddick, as so many conversations about Jack seemed to boil down to. "Unless you know something else we don't?"

Don was the intelligence officer for Jaron for many years. From his arch tone, Zemma figured he didn't like not knowing things either. Riddick was a great keeper of secrets.

"No." Riddick continued to stare at the stars on the screen. "I want you two to stick close to her. I don't want her falling down those ramps and breaking a leg..." Don's derisive snort drew his attention. Riddick turned slightly in the chair and looked over his shoulder. Don didn't bother to elaborate on the snort.

Riddick went on as he turned back to the star field. "She has to learn to ask for help. Give her anything she needs… but, she has to ask."

Zemma resisted a smart-ass remark. It wasn't surprising that Don did as well. She knew they shared the same thought though: Jack had to learn to ask…sooner than Riddick had.

"Zem…" Riddick reached absently for her hand, still gazing outward, and perhaps inwardly. "Make sure she does her run." His voice implied another command too, or perhaps Zemma was just anticipating it… 'You can run as long as you eat.'

She'd better find those damn energy bars Jack stashed.

Zemma watched Don abort a salute that Riddick couldn't see, and wouldn't have appreciated anyway. He turned away without another word, and strode into the obscurity of the corridors again.

"Any duties for me, Sir?" Zemma asked Riddick, her tone light and slightly facetious.

"Come back here…" His tone gave her the shivers she liked.

Jack should have been sleeping. Instead she was lost, and… anxious. She thought maybe Don was waiting for her around every corner, laying another trap, or ready to laugh when she fell down.

She thought she could almost hear him.

When she stopped to listen, there was nothing. When she called out a more nervous 'hello?' than she intended there was no answering voice.

Still, she didn't feel as alone as she should. It was uncanny. Every sound she made seemed to echo back at her far too loudly…except when it didn't echo back at all. That was eerie.

Her eyes had adjusted to the tiny amount of light the red comm. light threw into the med lab, and so she managed to find her way around the tables and counters to the relative safety of the corridor… only to realize there were no little lights there to guide her way. She tried to remember how many doors to the next corridor, and which room she'd decided to sleep in, but was confounded almost immediately when she turned the corner… Was it eight doors down the left, or nine?

None opened easily; she'd picked the lock earlier in the day, locked it behind her, bypassing the code entirely. She could pick a lock in the dark, but which room had she left her comm. chip in? Riddick couldn't give her a wake up call if she didn't get the right room. She threw her back to the wall and kicked it with her heel in frustration. She wouldn't be able to find the case of power bars either: she'd never counted how many doors down that room was, and it was on the level below. She wasn't at all sure about taking the ramps in the dark. The bounce tube was out of the question.

She started spewing long and anatomically impossible things about Don, hoping she might at least get a chuckle out of him, if he were nearby. Silence answered.

Creepy.

When she turned to go back towards the med lab and galley she stumbled into a bucket.

"What the fuck?"

It bounced and clanked a moment, echoing, until its silence made it invisible again.

Was that there when she came this way? Was she pointing the wrong way now? Or was Don really there, hiding in the blackness, setting traps?

'Be ready for anything.' He'd said.

Jack crouched in the darkness, waiting for something, anything, that would indicate her feeling that Don was right there was correct. Nothing.

She stood up slowly, convinced her mind was just playing tricks.

'Anything…'

Was that a whisper in her head? Or did she really hear it this time?

"Fucker." Jack tried to sound bolder than she was feeling.

'Oh, Hija. Oh, Baby-girl. What's wrong?'

THAT voice she knew could only be in her head. Jack might think she saw Hypatia around every corner, but she couldn't really have gotten on this ship.

She couldn't.

The falsetto voice was closer than just around the corner: it was in her head… always. The dreams were too vivid, the memories too clear. Jack could escaped the physical presence, without ever really escaping the woman.

The first time she'd tried to run away, she'd gotten herself into worse trouble. Hypatia had saved her, and for a while, Audrey had been grateful. The young girl tried to find solace in the strange and fearsome woman who scared her so badly, but had also kept Audrey alive and relatively safe. The young girl Jack had been wanted to be safe, wanted a mother, even as bizarre a mother as Hypatia. It was years before she tried to escape again.

That's when she met Riddick. Then she lost him.

Hypatia had found her at New Mecca somehow, and delighted in Jack's harder edge. She told Jack about her heritage as a weapon and the price on her head. Hypatia fed into Jack's anger, stroked her forehead comfortingly and told Jack that she would keep Jack safe… forever.

She molded Jack into a killer. It wasn't that hard.

Jack sunk down against the wall, hands to her head, trying to banish the phantom. Sobs tried to escape; her whole body shook with the effort to suppress them.

"Leave me alone, you bitch!" She cried out into the darkness. She hated the dark. She hated being alone. She hated to cry.

"Jack?"

Jack leaped back from the voice whispering so close to her face, and tried to scramble backwards. A hand caught her foot and held it fast.

"Shh. I'm not gonna hit you."

"Fuck you, Don."

"Not that either." His voice was calm.

Jack kicked at him with her free leg but he only caught that one too.

"Calm down." That sounded more like him, giving orders. She heard him take a deep breath. "If you go charging down the hall in the dark you're gonna hurt yourself again."

"You set that stupid fucking trap for me!" She shouted, letting anger carry her away from the scarier place: away from tears.

She heard him sigh again. "You're right. I'm sorry." He let go of one foot and she heard him sit down with a heavy thud.

"Let go of me," she hissed.

"Not till you're calm." He sounded resigned.

"I …am." She said through clenched teeth.

He only snorted in response. They sat at impasse, neither speaking. She couldn't see or hear him now, only feel his hand clamped around her ankle. Time seemed to stop.

"Why are you doing this?" Jack finally asked, and her voice did sound a little calmer to her ears.

"Doing what?"

"Stalking me in the dark."

"Just making sure you don't hurt yourself."

"Turn on the fucking lights, dipshit, easy as pie." She suddenly kicked at him again and this time made solid contact. She heard his breath explode out of him in a hiss and his hand loosened momentarily. Jack pulled away and tried to scramble out of his reach, only to crash headfirst into the opposite wall.

"Fuck!" She spun around so her back was to the wall and stood up.

"Jack…" His voice was too close again. Jack took a swing at it, not hearing herself scream in rage as she did so.

He caught her hand and twisted her around so that her back was to him, and wrapped his arms across hers. She tried to head butt him but she was too short, only smacking into his chest. She tried to rake her boots down his shins and stomp his foot but he merely picked her up in the air. She planted her feet on the wall in front of her and pushed hard so that he stumbled back to the other wall, but then found she had no purchase whatsoever.

"Calm down, kid." He actually sounded tired.

Jack redoubled her efforts to kick him, screaming profanities and hoping Riddick would hear her. Riddick would save her. Riddick would make Don turn the lights back on. He would understand why she didn't like the dark.

Whatever hits she scored on him with her feet Don ignored. Wherever Riddick was, he couldn't hear her shrieks. Don's strong arms around her made it hard to breathe deeply and when she stopped yelling long enough to try to take another breath she could hear him whispering in her ear in a language she didn't know.

Panting in frustration, feeling the tears getting too close again, Jack gave up her struggles.

Don put her feet on the floor but didn't release his hold on her. Jack didn't move.

"You all done, kid?" He asked quietly, sounding a little out of breath himself.

"Let go of me."

"You can't fight mad, kid. And I'm not gonna let you go charging blindly down…"

Jack twisted her hips up and back against him, a sly smile on her face unseen by him. "What do you really want, Don…?"

"Knock it off, child." He sounded offended and angry. He didn't let her go as she expected.

"C'mon, Don, I'm not a child…all you had to do was ask…" She tipped her head back and tried to turn her face to him.

"Is that all you think men want with you?" He almost sounded…sad.

Jack growled and tried again to fight her way free of his embrace. "Asshole! Bastard! Turn on the damn lights! Fucker! I hate you! When Riddick finds out…" She was losing her cool again, she didn't have any control of the situation; it was breaking her.

"Riddick wants the lights off," Don spoke above her thrashing head.

"Noooo! He wouldn't! He knows I don't like the dark. You're lying!" Riddick wouldn't do this to her, would he?

"Shh…" Don spoke that word he'd used earlier. "Settle down, child, everything is going to be all right…"

Jack hated those words. It was all a lie, always a lie. "Liar! All you want to do is hurt me! Liar! You bitch! I hate you!"

She still couldn't get free but was far from knowing how many times she'd actually scored on the old man.

"Shh. Shh. I won't hurt you. I won't let her hurt you anymore. Shh." His voice stayed soothing and quiet so that she only heard him when she tried to catch her breath. That got harder and harder to do, as the outraged cries became real crying. She went limp in his arms, unable to stop now that it had started.

Don slowly drew them down the wall until they were sitting on the floor, still holding her tightly against his chest and rocking side to side. "Let it out, Jack. Let it out."

Jack cried until there was nothing left inside, and Don just held her, rocking her, without speaking. In a little while her breathing changed; she fell asleep from exhaustion.

Don looked up to the only witness to the past half hour. Zemma had never said a word, never tried to interfere. She pushed away from the wall where she'd been leaning, arms crossed, and hunched down beside Don. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think that's what Riddick intended?" She whispered softly, so that it didn't disturb Jack.

"No," Don spoke just as quietly. "But, it's what she needed."

"I'll tell Riddick she won't be doing her shift." Zemma looked sympathetically at young girl. "Do you want me to take her?"

"I'll be all right with her."

Zemma put her palm to Don's cheek. "You're a good man."

Don shook his head a little in negation. "I was, once, but the Mongers made me hard inside."

"You are still good." Zemma stood, kissing Don on the top of his head. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."