He was right behind her, slamming the door back against the wall. The dozing girl shot up, scrambled back off the bed when she saw him and ran after Jack into the bathroom.
He followed, grabbed her tiny flailing body and threw her back onto the mattress before locking the bathroom door behind him.
"I'm gettin' tired of this back and forth shit, Jack." He spun her around, pinning her up against the wall. "The fuck is your prob-"
She slapped him. Hard. Then again before he pinned her wrists to the wall. She raged against him, biting and kicking. He tried not to laugh, failed, and then grunted as her hard little foot connected with his knee cap.
Goddamn she has good aim.
She stopped fighting, started yelling. Came up some phrases that impressed him before she finally slumped back against the wall, panting.
He leaned in close, lips quirked into a smug smile, "You done?"
"You son of a bitch," she hissed trying to yank her hands out of an iron grip. "You have no idea...I thought you were-. "
She stopped, turned her head away from him blinking rapidly. "Why would you do that to me?"
He dropped her hands. "To you?" Stepping back he shook his head disbelievingly, no longer amused. "To you?"
Stripped off his shirt rougher than he intended. Swallowing down the nauseating pain he turned his back to her. "It was for you and don't you forget that."
Glancing over his shoulder he could see her staring at the burns. She wasn't as upset as he thought she should be. He eyed her sourly - What the fuck is this?
"Taking you back to Imam, too. Plans changed."
He felt like a petulant child, but it got a reaction.
"What the fuck to you mean 'plans changed'," she asked quietly, pushing away from the wall.
The word 'implosion' flashed through his head, and he turned to face her, shielding his back.
"Tearing apart a rescue vessel don't qualify as low key, Jack. You know the game, you're part of it. Your buddies'll be gunnin' for me -."
"Don't," she cut in, now blatantly hostile. "I'm done with them…and that excuse was weak the first time around, asshole. Don't insult me with that bullshit."
He looked at her, somewhere between angry and amused. "Ok then, I changed my mind. Feel better?"
Her eyes flashed dangerously, but she swallowed her words. He watched her fingers curling, relaxing, curling again; and remembered how much it used to amuse him when she was fourteen. It wasn't so funny now.
"Turn around," she demanded suddenly, reaching for the duffle bag on the counter.
He gave her a dubious look, "What the fuck for?" She stared at him, tapping her foot impatiently.
When he didn't move she shook her head incredulously, "You really think I'd hurt you?"
"I'd think you'd try."
Her composure slipped.
"Godammit, Riddick," she exploded. "You haven't been treating your back. It's gonna fucking scar."
He shrugged, "Got lotsa scars, babe. What's one more?"
She returned his smirk with a glare, "That much scarring will mess with your movement, idiot. Just turn around."
He did, eyeing her warily over his shoulder. She rolled her eyes, called for brighter lights and snorted when he grunted in pain.
He decided to let it go. She was hurting bad and he knew it. Even though her fingers were gentle and competent he could feel the tension in her movements. He found himself torn; wanting to comfort her, wanting to tell her to wake the fuck up and see that he had no choice. That he'd done too much just to see her killed or thrown into a slam for running with him.
He'd wanted her with him before. When some semblance of a normal life was possible. They might've had to live low key, but they wouldn't have been running. That wasn't the case now. She didn't know what she was asking for. She should've been thanking him. He was doing right by her, ignoring the urge to just drag her along with him. Saving her from having to live her life in pit-stops.
But there she was touching him, tempting him, making him feel like a complete asshole for doing what he knew was right. Why did she have to make everything so goddamn hard? What had happened to just knocking her ass out and dragging her along for the ride?
"Got a knack for making me feel guilty," he chuckled bitterly. "I think you do that shit on purpose."
She ignored him, began haphazardly repacking the first aid kit, shoving it into the duffle bag, washing her hands, fixing the towel rack he'd knocked her against. She wouldn't look at him. He tried to reach for her but she shrugged away and slipped out of the bathroom. He heard her murmuring to the girl – Cobi, she had called her – telling her that it was ok. The girl didn't respond, but Jack kept chanting, "It'll be fine. Everything is ok. It's alright."
He sat on the lid of the toilet quickly when she came back in, feigning indifference. She threw another duffle bag at his feet and stood watching him blankly.
He pawed through the bag, more for a distraction than actual interest. He was used to condemnation. But not from her.
Fuck that. Not after everything I've done to keep you safe, little girl.
"Just so you know," she began coldly, "Cobi's coming with me. If you have a problem with that you can just fucking leave me here because I won't go without her."
He nodded, pulled some cargoes from the bag and began to change. She didn't leave, just stood there with her arms crossed, watching him shamelessly.
It was strange, being naked in front of her. He remembered the night in the gym, the way she had felt against him, how she had touched him. Realized that that'd probably never happen again, that crazy-intense high she gave him. He was grateful, now, for that asshole walking in when he did.
If I'd taken her there…He pushed the thought away, focused on the task at hand.
When he was done, he shoved the dirty clothes back into the bag and began lacing up his boots. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her fidgeting.
He cleared his throat, "Scouted out our transport already. The girl's gonna have to do cryo."
She nodded distractedly and he felt his patience slip. "If you need to say something, spit it the fuck out. I need to go over these plans."
She eased up onto the counter, curling her long legs underneath her, and stared at him. He yielded, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
"What, Jack," he demanded, trying not to yell, still refusing to look at her.
"I just want one thing from you, Riddick," she said quietly.
Anything. "What's that?"
She inhaled deep, "Next time-. " She faltered, started again. "Next time do me a favor and stay away."
It took him a while to reign in the anger; even longer to swallow the pain. When he was fairly certain he wouldn't strangle her he allowed himself to speak, "I'll be back in three hours. Be ready. Don't make me come looking for you."
Fuck waiting, he needed the hunt. That last statement had hurt more than it should've and he needed something to reinforce those walls she kept kicking down. He stood, brushed past her, ignoring her stare.
"I hate you," she choked out quietly. Had he been someone else it would've gone completely unnoticed. But he wasn't and it didn't.
His mind froze, but his body reacted. She was bent backwards over the counter with his hand around her neck before she could draw another breath.
"Good. Hate me then, godammit," he snarled into her ear. "Hate me. It'll make it that much easier to dump your ass in New Mecca."
"Every fucking thing I've done has been for you," he said spat, pulling her head back further.
He turned and licked a tear of the side of her face, kissed her ear lobe tenderly, and then, "I should've left you in that cave."
The second the words left his mouth he knew something had been broken. She jerked as if he'd struck her; and when he let her go she crumpled to the ground.
If she didn't hate me before, she does now. And then – I am a fucking monster.
He spun around and ripped the door open with enough force to dislodge the hinges.
The girl was perched on the bed, watching him fearfully. God, she looked so much like Carolyn it made him sick. This whole mess was that bitch's fault.
Jack had started crying. Quiet, tortured, groaning sounds, like she used to make after a particularly fucked up nightmare. He closed his eyes and honed into it. Let it seep into his skin, into his bones. He'd done his best. Done his best and she ended up hating him all the same.
Didn't hear the noises outside until it was too late. When he did, all he could do was cover the girl, knock her off the bed before the door blew in. Standing, he was greeted by the glare of a flashlight and six little laser beams dancing around his chest.
Out of his peripheral he could see Jack creep out of the bathroom, hands in the air, looking for him.
No. For the girl, he reminded himself. Why should she give a fuck about you?
Said girl started to squirm at his feet. He looked down at her; at the gauge she was trying to hand him and back to Jack. There were laser beams dotting her abdomen now, too.
He smiled inwardly – cute kid – but shook his head a fraction of an inch. Any other time. But they had Jack in their sights and he'd be damned if he got her killed in the crossfire.
The clinking of chains drew his attention back to the cluster of armed mercs in the doorway. His control almost slipped again when Davis, followed by Riley and Gerod, swaggered through the crowd, swinging cuffs back and forth in one hand.
Shoulda fuckin' known… Riddick's fingers started itching for his shiv.
Davis, however, already had his weapon out. And it was trained directly between Riddick's eyes. He slithered up behind Jack and tried to kiss her neck. She planted an elbow in his gut, then found his gauge tucked neatly underneath her chin.
Riddick jerked towards her. The lamp beside him exploded.
"Don't fucking try it," someone drawled from the door.
Davis just smiled at him over Jack's shoulder. He licked and bit the skin there, smiling wider as her heard Riddick's growl. Jack, looking disgusted, tried to turn away, but the barrel of his gun guided her back.
"What's the matter, baby? Ain'tcha happy to see me?"
"Obviously not, you piece of shit," she growled, cringing away from his touch.
Davis, shrugging, clapped the cuffs around her wrists, tightening them until she cried out.
"That's too fucking bad, sugar," he sneered, before knocking her to the ground and training his gun on Riddick. "Cause I'm real happy to see you."
(Sigh) I know, I know. It's been forever. Apologies. Caught up in my second chapter fic.
