Ghost

Author’s note; for this fic, I won’t be using Imam’s wife or daughter. Enjoy.

13. Jack.

Helion Prime was the central planet; a beacon of light and hope. New Mecca was the capital - a place that was as bright during the night, as it was during the day. But the Necros had put those lights out, and all that remained was carnage. Destruction. Children crying in the streets and death everywhere I turned.

I could only stare at the city that had once been my home. We had docked a little while ago, and when Kain and I left the ship, all we could do was look at each other, before looking back at what had become of this once beautiful place. At what Riddick’s army had done. It broke my heart being here. I had almost been slaved out here, but I had been loved here. Riddick came up behind me as we stood there, his presence almost more than I could bear.

"Jack, it’s time to go. We have things to do," he said, and I shook my head.

"I need to see Imam first, Riddick. There are things I need to say. I won’t leave without doing that first," I said quietly, and felt his hands come down heavily on my shoulders.

"He’s dead, Jack," was all he said, and I closed my eyes as Kain’s hand briefly touched mine, before he headed down the slope towards the rest of my family.

"How?" I asked, turning to face him, and Riddick glanced at the soldiers who were streaming out of the main ship.

“They landed. He got caught in the cross fire,” he said quietly, and I nodded slowly, stifling the urge to lash out at him. I knew that none of this was his fault, but it doubled the guilt I was already feeling; they were his now, because of me. Riddick went to speak, but I held my hand up and shook my head.

“Don’t. I need to say goodbye, Riddick. I’ll meet you back here later.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “Don’t even think about it, Jack.”

“Think about what, Riddick?” I asked, and he tilted his head slightly.

“Running,” he said flatly.

The anger I felt was swift and sudden, and I laughed bitterly as I stared up at his closed off face.

“What are you sayin’, Riddick? You spring me from one prison, only to throw me into another?” I spat, and Riddick flinched.

“No. It’s just not safe here, Jack,” he muttered, and I laughed dryly.

“When has it ever been safe when it comes to you, Riddick?” I whispered helplessly, and turned away from him and started down the sandy slope we had landed on.

I reached the others a moment later, Kain slinging his arm around my shoulders as we headed towards the centre of town - or what was left of it. I ignored the fact that Riddick was staring after us. I ignored the fact that Kain had palmed a shiv, the point resting towards his wrist as we walked. I ignored the cries of the dying, and concentrated on not pitching face first into the blood stained streets.

Buildings had been destroyed; all that was left was rubble and smoke. The Necro’s hadn’t just killed the light - they had devoured the very soul of New Mecca. And the more I saw, the more it hurt. By the time we had picked our way to my old home, I was close to hyperventilating; I felt like my lungs had collapsed, the air wheezing in and out as I focused on the only thing that felt real - the pain. So much death…

Kain’s grip around my shoulders was almost bruising in force, as he kept me on my feet and kept me moving. He helped me over the larger pieces of rubble, his touch a constant thing in this nightmare. And when we finally reached Imam’s old home, he wrapped an arm around my waist as I sagged against him, and pushed the door open slowly with the hand that held the shiv.

The door creaked, something it hadn’t ever done when I had lived here, but it swung open none the less. Dust particles floated in the air as Kain gently pushed me behind him, his hand still clenched in mine as he walked slowly into the dimly lit room. Dog, Link and Maniac filed in after us, their footsteps almost silent on the cold stone floor.

Maniac slid further into the house as Dog climbed the stairs, twin low whistles echoing a moment later. Satisfied that the house was empty, Kain pulled me into his arms as Link shut the door silently. I closed my eyes as I rested my head on his shoulder, but after a moment, he tugged my face up. We stared at each other for a long moment, before he nodded slowly and pushed me towards the stairs that led to the second level.

“Where’s Jack goin’?” Link murmured as I walked up the stairs slowly, my hand trailing along the stone wall as I climbed.

“To wash away the sins of the past,” Kain muttered. “New Meccan custom that we took with us when we left here. So what are we gonna do…”

Kain’s voice dropped to a murmur as I stood outside what had once been my room. The door opened easily when I finally gathered up enough courage to push it inwards, and I had to close my eyes as I was assaulted by my memories. Of dancing, laughing and crying within this once warm space. Of sleeping in the bed with Riddick. With Kain. Of late night talks with Imam and the heady scent of spice that always hung in the air.

The room had been torn apart, as had the rest of the house. Furniture had been upended, the room ransacked for whatever could be taken. Glass figurines had been reduced to sparkling dust. The gossamer curtains hung in shreds, the windows behind them shattered. Books had been torn apart, the pages scattered across the room. Photo captures were tinged and frozen, the images no longer moving as I shut the door behind me.

Moving through the room, I headed for the bathroom and paused when I saw the destruction that had been rained down in here. The sea green tiles had been smashed, the mirror cracked through the middle. I stared at my reflection in that broken surface, and felt the answering crack from deep within me. So many misunderstandings, realized all too late. Such destruction, for no real reason other than to show strength.

I saw the tear that slid down my cheek in the mirror and lifted my hand to wipe it away. I headed back to the bedroom and knelt to see if the pewter bowl was still under the bed. More tears fell as I dragged the heavy basin out, and set it down in the centre of the bathroom. I found an old robe tangled within the bed linen, and shook it out slowly, the crimson material the first real splash of color I had seen in a long time.

The door creaked open slowly behind me, and I wiped my eyes hastily as Kain slipped into the room with a wooden bucket. He gave me a half hearted smile, and knelt to tip the contents of the bucket into the basin. The water was only lukewarm, but it would do. I managed an answering smile as Kain tilted his head at me and slipped away.

Returning to the bedroom, I found my old hair brush on the floor, and picked it up and blew the dust out of the wooden teeth. Setting it aside, I searched the cupboards and found a dried out sea sponge, which I dropped into the basin so it would swell with water. Those tears threatened to return when I found a dusty bottle in the corner of the cupboard, and I opened the stopper slowly. The scents of New Mecca rose and I breathed them in deeply.

Imam had first introduced this to me when we set up our new lives here. He had told me that the sins of the past could be washed away, leaving nothing but the scent of God in its wake. It seemed such a strange notion to me at the time, but if I took one thing he taught with me when I fled, it was this very custom.

I returned to the basin and spilled some of the oil into the water. The scent of Moroccan oil slowly filled the room, and I breathed in deeply as the warm spicy scent teased my senses. Kain returned with another bucket of water and a small wooden pitcher, and he wrinkled his nose slightly as the familiar scent hit him as well.

“Smells a damn sight better than Crematoria, Jack,” he murmured and I nodded as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You want some company?” he asked, and I shook my head slowly.

“Jack... Are you alright?” he asked quietly, and I shook my head again.

“I just need some time, Kain. Too many memories,” I said, and he sighed softly.

“I’ve got to talk with the others anyway,” he said. “We need to work out what’s goin’ on wit’ Dog and Maniac. Figure out where they’re gonna go. How they’re gonna get there. How we can keep in touch,” he muttered and I nodded as he left the room.

My old clothes I simply threw in a corner, and I made quick use of the water as I washed my legs and hips. The robe felt like silk as I drew it on, the material sticking to my damp legs slightly as I knelt down before the bowl, and gathered my hair over my shoulder. The robe was genius in design; worn as a skirt, it was split to the top of each thigh, with a swath of material that came up across my chest from my left hip. It crossed my right shoulder, and then fell down my back to the top of my thigh.

I left that excess material in a puddle across my knees as I slowly drew the wet sponge across my face. Washed my chest, and raised each arm and washed every inch of skin, that I could reach. And as I washed, I silently prayed to what ever God that was listening, to forgive me my stubbornness towards Imam. To forgive the last words I had ever spoken to him. To wish him speed and peace on his new journey.

Time had taught me forgiveness with regards to Imam. He had no family in which he could secure his wisdom and love, so he turned to me when we survived together. But his beliefs had not been my own, and I had felt stifled. And in the face of trouble, rather than try to work out some other plan, I had done what had become my life - I had run.

Sins of the past ran down my skin as I squeezed the sponge, sending rivulets of water down over my shoulder and back. I set the sponge down in the basin a moment later, and spoke quietly as the air behind me shifted.

“It isn’t polite to watch a woman bathe, Riddick, without announcing yourself first.”

I looked back at him over my shoulder, and watched silently as he stepped out of the shadows and into the bathroom. The light was dim in the room, and his goggles were pushed up on his forehead as he stared at me from the doorway. His eyes lowered slowly, and I felt the weight of his gaze like an actual touch as he traced the length of my back with his eyes.

I turned my attentions back to the water, and squeezed another handful down over my shoulder. His footfalls were deliberate as he came towards me, and it gave me time to gather the material across my lap up, and drape it across my chest and down my back. His knees slid past my thighs as he knelt down behind me, his hand closing over mine briefly as I raised the sponge once more.

Rather than argue with him, I let him take it from my hand, and felt his body brush mine as he reached past me and pulled the basin of water towards him. His touch was hesitant at first, until I lowered my head slightly; an act of submission towards him - an olive branch, in a time where my whole world had been destroyed.

“Are you gonna fight me every inch of the way on this, Jack?” he rumbled quietly, his words echoing my thoughts as he ran the sponge down my spine and I shrugged slightly.

“Are you gonna let them keep killin’ people?” I asked, and his movements paused.

“No,” he said finally, and I relaxed slightly.

“How about destroying the ‘Verse, Riddick?” I asked quietly, and he paused once more.

“No.”

I nodded, and felt his hand slide under my chin. He tilted my head back as he shifted behind me, and I closed my eyes as the first pitcher of water ran down over the length of my hair. I heard his soft rumble of satisfaction, as he poured another pitcher of water slowly over my head. Smoke, ash and sin splashed down onto the tiles, his hand careful as he worked his fingers through my hair.

“You don’t trust me.”

I sat up straighter when his words echoed in my ear, only to have a large arm snake around the front of my shoulders to still any further distance between us. I swallowed slightly, and Riddick drew me back towards him slowly. Left with no real choice, I finally rested my head against his shoulder and spoke quietly.

“I don’t trust easily, Riddick.”

“Taught you too well, huh?” he muttered, and I shook my head.

“You weren’t there to teach me much, Riddick, but the lessons you left me with… impacted.”

I heard his soft growl, and sighed as I reached up to rub my temple.

“What do you want me to say, Riddick? Do you want me to lie to you?”

He remained silent, and the cool touch of water ran down the fine bones of my clavicle a moment later. Riddick’s face brushed against my own as he looked down over my shoulder, his movements slow as he drew the sponge across the top of my collarbones.

“I want you to trust me,” he said quietly. “I want to know that when we board that monstrosity, you’re with me.”

“Scared I’ll stab you in your sleep?” I asked wryly, and he chuckled softly.

“You’d wanna make sure it counted if you did, Jack,” he murmured, and I shivered slightly at the darkness behind his words. "The Necros believe you keep what you kill. I dunno what else they believe. If we're gonna survive this, I need to know I can trust you - that you're with me."

“Including looking, for intent and purpose, like your whore?” I asked, and his hand paused.

“Yes,” he said a moment later, and the sponge dipped down under the edge of the material, and between my breasts. He drew it back out slowly, and I felt his face leave mine, and his nose brush the skin under my ear.

“Looking, Riddick. Not acting,” I said calmly, and he rumbled quietly.

“You’re no man’s whore, Jack,” he said softly, and dipped the sponge into the water again before drawing it down the left side of my ribs and towards my hip. I could feel my heart beating rapidly, and heard his soft growl as his thumb brushed against my pulse.

“Every time I’ve touched you since the first time in the cell, you’ve flinched,” he said a moment later. “It’s a well masked flinch, but a flinch all the same. Why do you think I’m gonna hurt you, Jack? Did I treat you that badly in the past?”

I shook my head slowly, and his hands closed over my shoulders.

“Then why?” he asked in my ear, and I suppressed the shiver that ran down my spine.

“I would never hurt you, Jack. Kill for you, cross the ‘Verse for you, hide away for you - yes. Hurt you? Never. Has it really been that long that you would think that? That I would become the monster they talk about on the news?”

I shook my head again, and his grip tightened against my shoulders as he stood up and moved around me. Kneeling down in front of me, he cupped my chin and forced me to meet his eyes.

“Then why?” he asked.

I shook my head slowly, Riddick frowning in response. We remained in that position; kneeling before one another - me half naked and him fully dressed. I fingered the material that crossed my shoulder slowly, only to have him show me that he was as smart as I knew him to be.

“Kain said that you were washing away your past, Jack. You think I could do the same?” he asked, and I snorted.

“Shit, Riddick, I don’t think there’s enough water in the whole ‘Verse for that,” I said without thinking, and his laughter was swift and sudden as I bit my lip.

I had seen the smile he wore several times in the past - it wasn’t mocking or sarcastic or the one he used to let people know he was one step away from killing them. It was his real smile; a blinding flash of white teeth, and his laughter rumbled from deep inside his chest. The corners of my own mouth twitched, and he shook his head slightly at me.

“Mouthy little swot,” he muttered, and I snickered softly.

“How about our past, Jack?” he asked a moment later, and I looked back up at him silently as he pulled his goggles off.

He set them aside, and I watched him as he lifted the shirt he was wearing off. It was caked in ash and blood and sweat, and he handed me the sponge silently. When he closed his eyes and bowed his head, I felt my heart trip briefly as I realized that he was showing his trust in me by closing his eyes. I finally lifted the pitcher of water and poured it over his head.

I could feel the prickle of stubble under my fingers as I feathered them across his head, and I heard his quiet sigh as I poured another pitcher of water over his shoulders. Riddick kept his hands on his knees as I rose to a kneeling position, and set about washing his face and neck. His head was below mine and when he tilted his head back, I sighed as I met those silver eyes that would always see the truth no matter what I said.

Could we wash the past away? Could I open myself up to him, and tell him the truth as to why I didn’t trust him? Could that old saying really be true? That the truth would set me free? Or was this just his way of fucking with my mind? I felt my breath leave me as I shuddered. I took a leap of faith, and spoke quietly.

"I loved you. And you tore my heart out when you left, Riddick. So I built up walls - I promised myself that no one would ever get that close to me again. That no one would ever hurt me the way you did."

He nodded as I ran the sponge down across his shoulders, but I saw him swallow as the full impact of my words hit him. I didn’t say anything as I dipped the sponge into the water and moved it down his arm. I concentrated on the simple act of washing away the ash that clung to him, rather than what I was saying and how he was taking it. He wanted the truth? So be it.

“Kain slid under those walls. He lets me keep them up - lets me hide behind them. He let me learn to trust him. He never pushed me - he just kept being the same boy, day in and day out. He never questioned why I had nightmares or why I kept him at arm’s length for so long.”

Riddick nodded slowly, and then tilted his head as I washed his hands.

“When did you know you could trust him?” he asked slowly, and I smiled slightly.

“When I woke up in hospital and found him asleep on the floor beside my bed,” I said softly. “That’s when I knew. I can tell him anything, and he never laughs at me or tells me I’m an idiot. He lets me have my moments where I push him away, and if I push too hard, he pushes right back.

“I can remember when he was teachin’ me to defend myself. I didn’t want to hit him, but he kept pushin’ me and pokin’ me in the ribs; deliberately pissin’ me off until I snapped and gave him a bloody nose. I was horrified, but he just stood there with blood pourin’ down his face and laughed at me.”

I sighed as I ran the sponge down over his chest, and frowned slightly as Riddick kept looking at me.

“He doesn’t laugh so much anymore. We both killed for the first time the night I turned seventeen. And with each death by his hands, the less he laughs; he told me he would rather see the stains of death on his hands than on mine. I feel his guilt and he feels mine. But under that, I feel his love, Riddick. His friendship. And that’s what keeps him inside my walls - what gives them strength. What gives me strength.”

I set the sponge down slowly, and lifted another pitcher of water. Riddick stared at me for a minute and then closed his eyes again as I tipped the water over his head. When I set the pitcher down and turned back to him, he was looking at me again, and I took a deep breath.

“Kain lets me keep my walls in place. But you? You tear them down. Your force me to feel things I’d rather keep hidden. You make me feel like a child again. I’m not strong enough to survive your second coming, Riddick. I’m not made of ice like you.”

Riddick sunk his teeth into his lower lip as we stared at each other, and then he rose to his knees, mirroring my position. I was reminded of just how small I was against him as he cupped my face in his hands and tilted my face up.

“You’re not made of ice, Jack. Your heat and fire and the girl who kept me sane while living in the ice.”

I shook my head slowly, and he brushed his thumbs down over my eyelids, causing me to close my eyes. He took my hand in his and I felt his skin under my hand as he pressed my palm against his chest. I could feel his heart beating under my hand, and then his voice rumbled in my ear as he shuffled closer to me.

“You feel that, Jack?”

I nodded, and his breath brushed my jaw as he lowered his head and breathed in against my throat.

“Your walls are made of glass, Jack. Mine are made of steel. And yet you still got behind them and into here.” His hand flexed against mine, and then he spoke again. “Only person who ever did. In my head, you were like that crystal dancer Darien gave to you - the one that turned to music. A fragile figure I needed to protect no matter the cost. I trusted in the unseen. If I’d known that I was taking a piece of you with me, I would never have left. If I’d known that I was going to hurt you so badly, I would have taken you with me. If I’d known… But I didn’t know, Jack.”

“And now?” I asked as his hand slid down the length of my back and he drew me closer to him.

“You will survive my second coming, Jack,” he murmured in my ear, and when I tilted my head back to look at him, he smiled slightly.

“I spent five years alone, thinking about the girl I saved. The girl who saved me.” His hand pressed harder against mine, his heartbeat strong and sure under my hand. “You’re here. And I was never really alone, Jack.”

His thumbs brushed against my eyelids again, and I closed my eyes. Cool water slid down through my hair and over my back a moment later. Slid down over his hand as he spread his fingers and pressed his hand against the middle of my spine. And when I didn’t flinch at the touch of his mouth against my temple, I heard his soft purr as the sins of the past were slowly washed away.