Forgotten Past: Chapter Two- Orders Unheeded

“It’s expensive.”

Jack lifted a dark brow and shrugged. “What sort of ‘expensive?’” she questioned archly, as a sudden thought entered her head. She wasn’t far from wrong. The man looked her over slowly, taking in the tight black pants and dark long sleeved shirt that clung to her body. Her ebony hair was braided and pulled back from her face. She toyed with the ends absently as he eyed her.

“No,” she stated and his eyes flew to hers.

“I could take it,” he sneered darkly.

There was a flash of movement and he found himself on the ground, a razor sharp blade biting into the soft flesh of his throat. “No, you couldn’t,” she answered quietly, thankful to the very marrow of her bones for Riddick’s insistent training.

The man nodded. “Uh, yes. A hundred creds, then.”

Jack slid away from him, sheathing the blade out of sight and the man righted himself, dusting the dirt from his pants and shirt. “Right.” She pulled a small bag out of the waistband of her pants and pulled out the said amount.

He eyed the bulging bag greedily. “Shoulda asked for more,” he growled unhappily, snatching the creds from her out stretched hand.

She flashed a feral grin and replaced the bag.

“Come this way,” he told her, leading her through a dark door to a room with an operating chair and a number of sterilized tools. For such a dingy looking establishment it was surprisingly clean. This brought a sense of relief to Jack, who had never been to fond of medical procedure, and being cut on by dirty tools had never been a happy thought. She hated that doctors called what they did “practice.”

He gestured for her to sit in the chair and began preparing for the operation.

Jack pulled the dark, wrap around glasses out of her pocket and laid them by her thigh on the chair.

A few minutes passed, Jack feeling more and more edgy. She wanted the anesthetic, but wouldn’t take it. She might have if the man hadn’t expressed such blatant interest in her body. The threat of being put out, raped, then killed made her decide to refuse it when he offered. And he did.

“I’m going to inject you with this so you’ll fall asleep. When the operation is done, you’ll wake up feeling a little drowsy, but fine.” He went to stick the needle in her arm and she jerked away.

“No. No drugs. I’ll stay awake.” Her eyes grabbed at his, forcing him to look at her.

He offered the needle again. “The pain will be very bad,” he said.

What was it she’d heard Riddick say? The phrase that she’d lived by for the past three years? “The pain reminds me I’m alive,” she answered finally.

The man stared at her in wonder before lowering the syringe. “Your funeral,” he mumbled and reached for the rest of the tools he would need.

The operation was beyond painful. The smell of burning flesh flooded her senses, muted by the pain as they were. She spent the whole of the procedure digging her fingers into the seat and her leg alternately. That and biting on a wash rag kept her from screaming and passing out from the pain.

When it was done she shook her head, trying to clear the fog from her head. Pain radiated through her temples, tingeing all her senses and tingling through all of her face. She felt something cool and wet dripping into her eyes and then the man’s voice again.

“Close your eyes.” She did as she was told, letting the eye drops do their job.

When she felt she could see again, she opened her eyes. The bright light blinded her and she cried out, squeezing her lids shut again. Jack remembered the dark glasses and snatched them from the chair, pulling them over her eyes. Jack opened her eyes again slowly, the light only bothering her eyes slightly, but that would fade as she got used to the new sensitivity. All pain faded. Riddick was going to flip, she thought darkly, sitting up and looking at the man.

He was sterilizing his tools and cleaning up the work area.

She’d paid and so she left, not bothering to thank him. He wouldn’t care, he’d gotten the money and that’s all people like him cared about.

Stumbling slightly as she left, the pain in her head still throbbing dully, she headed back to their house. It was a three room establishment, and that was counting the bathroom.

One main room that doubled as a bedroom, tiny kitchen, and tinier bathroom. But that didn’t matter. They were just happy to have a place to live, to keep their heads dry and their bodies warm.

“Be grateful,” Riddick always told her whenever the thought of complaining entered her head. And she was. Grateful he hadn’t left her after so long. Grateful to be alive, fed, clothed. It was more than those boys of Imam’s had gotten back in the hell hole.

Imam’s boys would never complain, she told herself, finally stumbling into the small darkened house. The minute they found a place to live in, Riddick would cover the windows. That way, no one could look in, only they could look out. And no matter what time of day it was, it was always dark enough for him to have his goggles off. To relax and let his guard down.

Jack knew he only did that around her. That to everyone else in the world they lived in, he showed only the darkness inside of him. It had been a year and a half before he’d let himself relax even a little around her.

And now she had to wait, she thought, pulling off the glasses and letting the cool darkness seep into her senses. The darkness was comfortable. Even without shines eyes, she had good night vision from living in the dark with Riddick for so long. You’d think after the hell hole planet she’d be scared out of her mind of the dark. But instead, she embraced it as Riddick did. It was her comfort, her solace. In it lived Riddick, and she lived with him. Where the dark was, she was safe.

With those thoughts echoing through her head, Jack fell asleep.

~~~

Riddick stepped through the door, Jack’s smell entering his nose long before he stepped inside. It was good to know she was home.

Everything was turned off though, which was unusual. When he came home, the lights were always turned off. They didn’t keep any in the house. But the soft blue glow of the HV set was usually going. Or music played over the stereo she’d bought herself. But there was nothing.

He glanced towards her bed and saw Jack laying there, sound asleep. Riddick smiled slightly at her and then slipped into the kitchen, grabbing some smoked fish from the fridge and a drink.

Jack had made herself the bringer of food that came cheap. This way they were always able to buy their way off a planet if they had to. She’d find a way to get food cheap and then they’d pool their money together for anything else they needed.

This planet had a fish cash and they lived off of big fish steaks, smoked fish, and anything else fish Jack could think of or hear of.

But he never got sick of it. It was real food and he could eat as much as he pleased.

Back in Slam he’d never had that right. You ate what they gave you, or you stole it from another inmate. This was much better than anything else he could have wished for.

When he returned to the main room, Jack was sitting up in her bed, leaning forward so her dark hair fell around her face.

“Tired?” he inquired as he lowered himself into one of the two chairs in the room.

“Uh, yeah,” Jack answered, not looking at him.

She was being unusually quiet, even for herself and he felt that something was wrong.

“Are you okay?” He leaned forward in the chair, trying to force her to look up at him. Jack raised her head slowly, keeping her eyes firmly shut. Riddick would see what she had done soon enough.

“Look at me,” he demanded suddenly, feeling worried and not liking it. He was thirty-five years old, he told himself. And he didn’t need a seventeen year old kid making him fatherly, but she did and that meant he needed to know what was going on with her if she was going to stay with him.

Jack opened her eyes suddenly, seeing Riddick cast in shades of black, blue and purple. Her eyesight completely clear, making out every shape in the dark now.

“Dammit,” he breathed. Jack had gotten her eyes shined.

***

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