Chapter 21

            "Jesus Christ, Jack, I'm fine," Riddick bellowed, standing next to the ship at the port on Thuria, hands on his hips.

            "You're not getting that damn cut dirty," she said, her voice muffled by the engine above her. Only her legs were sticking out from under the ship. She stuck her hand out and wiggled her fingers. "Gimme the fucking monkey wrench." He sighed, grabbing her ankle and wrenching her out from under the engine.

            "I can change the fucking oil, Jack."

            "So can I," she returned, the force in her voice matching his. "I did this for a fucking living, remember?" He watched her snatch up the wrench and pull her leg from his grasp, rolling back under the ship.

            "You better quit treating me like I'm a fucking invalid, Jack," he warned.

            "Or what?" she challenged. He was quiet, so she rolled back out, sitting up to look at him impatiently. He only glared down at her.

            "I don't know, but you won't like it." She laughed, lying back down on the creeper.

            "You wouldn't do anything to me," she mumbled, still grinning.

            "I could withhold from you, you know." His frown deepened when she just cackled.

            "You already are," she said between laughs. "See, you keep forgetting that the cut in your side makes you too sore to do anything fun, so that's not a threat, doll face, that's a reality." He smiled, holding back a snicker. "And plus, you'd be punishing yourself at the same time."

            "I can take care of things," he said evilly. She snorted.

            "Yeah, but I think we both know I'm more fun."

            "Don't flatter yourself." If she hadn't heard the smile in his voice, she would have rolled back out to look at him and make sure he was joking.

            "Ouch," she said sarcastically. "Too bad I know you're lying." He sighed.

            "Really, Jack, I'm okay."

            "I know you are," she said, "but just take a break. You're still sore, and I don't want to have to stitch you up again if you rip something."

            "Yeah, I thought you got a little woozy while you were doing that," he said, crouching down next to her feet.

            "Actually, I did," she said honestly. "But I think it was just because it was your blood." He didn't say anything, just mulled that over for a while.

            "So are you gonna let me go into town to take care of some shit or are you gonna try to take that over too?" he asked finally, watching her roll out and sit up, leaning forward on her knees.

            "Oil change is done," she said quietly, reaching out for the water bottle. He quickly snatched it out of her hands.

            "Are you gonna let me take care of things, Jack?" She glanced down at the bottle of water and back up at him.

            "I was planning on it, yeah." He nodded in satisfaction, holding the bottle out to her and smirking when she tore it from his hand. "Can I go with you?"

            "No," he said quickly. Her shoulders slumped. "It's dangerous enough letting you do other shit." Her eyebrow rose. "Go with me to pick shipments up and shit." She nodded. "You're not getting involved in this."

            "What is 'this' anyway?" she asked, groaning as she stood. He picked up the creeper and followed her into the cargo hold.

            "Guy owes me money. Figured I'd collect since we're here." She glanced over her shoulder at him.

            "I thought we were doing okay on money."

            "We are," he said. "But debt is debt." She shrugged, granting the point. He put the creeper away and followed her up the steps. "You gettin in the shower?" She nodded, peeling her shirt over her head as she walked down the hall, knowing he would follow. The rest of her clothes were discarded in a heap in the bathroom floor, and she stepped under the water, sighing as the grime washed down the drain. Her hands pressed against the tile under the showerhead, and she dropped her head forward, letting the spray beat on her shoulders, her hair falling in front of her face. She heard the shower door roll open and then closed, and felt his hands run over her back, working the tension out.

            "I don't have a good feeling about this, Riddick," she admitted quietly. He sighed, his hands sliding around her waist and settling on her belly. She pushed her hair out of her face, wiping the water away as she leaned back against his chest. "I mean, I've had bad feelings about shit before, but…" He released her so she could turn to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his chest as she heaved a sigh. "Let it go this time, huh?"

            "Jack…"

            "No, really," she pushed, looking up at him, eyes pleading. "I mean it this time. Just let it go."

            "Please, Riddick." He looked up at her, considering it one last time. She saw the wheels turning and mentally crossed her fingers. His face reflected his final decision, and her face fell as he continued his 'just in case' pack. She flopped on the edge of the bed, watching him finish packing. He zipped it shut and slung it over a shoulder, cocking his head down at her.

            "I'll be fine." Her eyebrow twitched downward, prompting a sigh. "If I'm not back in an hour-"

            "I know," she said quietly, standing to follow him down to the cargo hold. He paused next to her at the bottom of the ramp, turning to her. Sad eyes stared up at him, and for an instant, he thought about changing his mind, but didn't. He reached out to cup her cheek in his palm, leaning forward to kiss her. Her arms slipped around his neck, and she hugged him ardently, afraid to let go. He kissed her shoulder, gave her another squeeze, and pulled out of her grasp, disappearing into the darkness. She slid to the ramp, sitting down, suddenly weak.

            "So he did survive Butcher Bay." Riddick couldn't help but grin as Gunney appeared out of the shadows. "I heard a nasty rumor you got out."

            "It ain't a rumor if it's true," Riddick replied. "You got the stuff?" Gunney shrugged.

            "Eh. For an old friend? I suppose I could come up with something."

            "You better," Riddick warned, making it seem threateningly friendly. "You know how it works."

            "Yeah, okay," Gunney said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "So what are you doin' on this side of the universe, man?" Riddick watched him intently as he reached into his pocket. "Chill. It's the money." Gunney's grubby hand held out a stack of credit chips. "Figured you'd be by sooner or later, so I stashed some shit away on the off chance you'd show up sooner than expected."

            "Just knowing you made good on one promise makes me like you more, Gunney," Riddick said slowly, tucking the chips safely in his pocket.

            "Whaddaya say, man?" Gunney asked. "Drink?" Riddick waved him off.

            "I got some runs to make. Rain check though."

            "Right," Gunney snorted. "You never sleep in the same place twice, Riddick. We all know that." Riddick only shrugged, shifting to make sure the shiv he'd placed in his boot was still handy, just in case. "Hell, chances are, I won't ever see you again now that you've collected."

            "Never know, Gunney," Riddick drawled. "Never know."

            "So what are you into now? Murder for hire?"

            "Nah," Riddick said, a dismissive expression sliding over his features. "Shipping."

            "Really." No response was affirmative in prison. Everyone knew that. "What kind of shit?"

            "Depends." This conversation was drawing out way too long for Riddick's taste. "But speaking of, I do have a run to make." Gunney's eyebrow rose. "Just stopped by to check up on you." Riddick reached out, patting Gunney's cheek a little harder than normal people would have stood for. "Glad to see you made it." Gunney watched him, a hateful scowl growing on his face with every step Riddick took down that alleyway. That money was hard-earned, and would be greatly missed. Collecting debts was fair, but never went without a price of its own.

            The docking bay was in view, and Riddick moved through the shadows as quickly as he could. If anyone had, on the off chance, followed him back, they had to have lost him along the way. The ship came into sight, and he let out a silent sigh of relief. Jack was still sitting on the ramp, looking around the port. A twinge of guilt hit him in the gut when he saw how badly her hands were shaking as she lifted that cigarette to her lips. Fuck. I gotta make up for this, he thought to himself. I shouldn't have fucking gone in the first place. He stepped out of the shadows and she scrambled to her feet, jogging toward him.

            She stopped suddenly, backing up slowly, a horrified expression falling over her face. He stopped as well, trying to figure out what had gotten into her, and then he smelled it. She shook her head slowly, tears springing into her eyes.

            "Richard B. Riddick." Riddick growled. "So nice of you to grace us with your presence.

            "Well if it ain't my ol' pal Cleveland," he drawled, a sadistic smile twisting his lips.

            "So who's your friend, convict?" the Merc spat, stepping out from behind a nearby ship. He didn't answer, the muscles in his jaw rippling as his hands clenched and unclenched. "You know, I always wondered what the B stood for," Cleveland continued, rubbing his forehead with the barrel of his gun. "Is it Bastard?" Two more steps forward. Jack noticed Riddick tense, ready to strike if need be. "Or could it be…" he paused for suspense "Bitch?" She was too terrified to move, and he just didn't. Cleveland continued forward, a smarmy chuckle punctuating his seeming victory.

            "Leave her out of it, Cleveland," Riddick warned, his gravelly voice low and dangerous. If Cleveland had any sense about him, that voice would have sent him running to change his pants. Too bad he didn't.

            "Oh, so Riddick finally grew a heart and found a girlfriend, huh?"

            "You know," Riddick said, watching Cleveland level the gun at him as he removed his pack from his shoulder. A smile touched the corners of his lips. So he is nervous about taking me down. "The last dumb fuck that messed with her got ghosted. I wouldn't even think about trying anything if I were you."

            "Oh, really." Cleveland made a show of being overly surprised.

            "I'm sure you heard about Johns." Cleveland's eyes narrowed. "Funny thing is, I got the credit for someone else's handiwork on that one," Riddick admitted, seemingly gloating that he was honored with having been blamed for Johns' departure. "If you want a chance at leaving here with all of your body parts in tact," Riddick paused, glaring menacingly at the merc, "leave her the fuck alone."

            "You keep your hands where I can see them, convict," Cleveland warned, "and I just might let you go back to prison instead of hell where you belong."

            "Cut the chat, Cleveland." Riddick's head snapped to the side, another merc appearing out of his hiding place. "Let's just collect on his asshole and get it over with." Riddick snickered.

            "Got yourself a skittish bitch, now, didn't you Cleveland?" He was vaguely aware of Jack's screams as the concussion from the nameless merc's pulse gun sent him flying, landing in a heap, muscles protesting as he tried to push himself off the ground.

            "Piece of shit," Cleveland growled, drawing his foot back for a solid kick. Riddick saw stars as stitches ripped and fresh skin split. Damn. And that thing was finally starting to heal. He heard Jack yell his name and then whimper, rage filling him as he turned to see the other merc grab her by the hair, pulling her head back as he pushed the barrel of a pistol under her chin. She fought, but didn't get anywhere. With a primal snarl, he lunged at Cleveland, sending them both toppling into a mass of flailing limbs as Cleveland's gun was sent skittering across the ground, out of reach.

            The animal surfaced as his fight with the merc continued – a violent, raw, ancient dance for dominance.  He finally gained the upper hand, wrapping his large hands around Cleveland's throat, leaning into him as he squeezed. Cleveland kicked and writhed under him, his face turning a bright purple as he fought for oxygen. Riddick remembered the shiv in his boot and reached for it, horror freezing him as a shot rang out. He snapped his attention back to Jack, just in time to watch the surprise on her face before she slid out of the grasp of the merc, falling to the ground as the merc stood there in shock, hands still held as though she was still in his grasp. Cleveland's arm lowered, the gun clattering to the ground, grunting as Riddick increased the pressure around his throat and drove the shiv home, the pain taking over as Cleveland's now lifeless body was torn to shreds.

            A dark stain appeared at the front of the remaining merc's pants as Riddick rose slowly, covered in Cleveland's blood. He turned slowly, stalking toward where Jack's body lay, grabbing the merc by his shirt and belt and throwing him as hard as possible. He landed with a grunt, lying there stunned as Riddick collapsed at Jack's side.

            "Riddick?" The blood in her lungs gurgled, strangling her voice.

            "I'm here, baby," he whispered, pulling her into his lap, cradling her against his shoulder. He kissed her forehead, feeling her hand clutch his shirt weakly.

            "I'm so sorry," she gasped. He shook his head, letting the tears break free.

            "I should have listened to you," he whispered, brushing her hair out of her face with blood stained fingers. "I'm sorry, Jack." She blinked slowly, a tear rolling down her cheek. She wheezed, jerking in his arms. He wasn't sure if it was him or her trembling.

            "I love you, Jack," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her lightly. "I've always loved you." She smiled up at him.

            "You said it," she wheezed, more tears surfacing. He nodded, kissing her again. "I'll always be there," she continued, her voice getting weaker. "Just listen. You'll hear it." A loud sob escaped him, and he leaned down to press his lips to hers, but she didn't press back.

            "Jack?" She blinked, smiling sadly, and was gone. "Jack?" His voice sounded foreign to him – weak. He felt empty, trembling violently as he pulled her to him tightly, refusing to believe she'd died in his arms. And then everything went black.

            He woke up in chains, the sound of the engines droning loudly, the wall behind him vibrating. He glanced around. Cleveland's dead corpse was piled, twisted, in a cryo tube across from him. The thought of testing the chains was fleeting. He would die in prison. There was no reason left to escape again. No reason for him to fight for his life. Everything he cared for was dead. Jack. The thought of her still lying on the ground at the docking bay turned his stomach. Mercs didn't care for anything but their own. They'd left her there, just how she was when they'd taken him away from her body. He didn't care anymore if they saw him cry. The only person that had loved him was taken from him. The only person he'd ever loved was taken from him.

            "Never gonna get out where you're going." Riddick lifted his head. The nameless merc's uniform said his name was Riker.

            "You think I give a shit now?" His voice was thick and strained.

            "Who was she?" Riddick cringed. Past tense. Riker's fist connected with his cheek as he repeated the question.

            "What do you care?" Riddick finally returned.

            "I don't," Riker spat, grinning wickedly. Riddick felt the rage rising again, but choked it back. There was nothing left to fight for. "Probably just some dumb murder groupie whore anyway." He took a step back as Riddick lunged forward, jerked back by his restraints. "So there is some fight left in there, huh?" Riddick glared at the merc, a low growl emanating from somewhere deep in his throat. "Guess it's a good thing you're never gonna see daylight again." Riddick's eyes narrowed as he calmly sat back down.

            "You think I haven't heard that before?" Riker cocked his head. "Piece of shit."

            "No," Riker said, glaring back down at Riddick. "That's my line." Riddick continued glaring, even as Riker disappeared from the room, the animal completely regenerated. Riddick and the animal were one again.