In Consequence
folder
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
20
Views:
7,003
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
M through R › Pitch Black
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
20
Views:
7,003
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Pitch Black, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Procedure
EIGHT
“Janine Grey?”
Jack looked up from the spot on the floor she was studying. Her heart was pounding. He won’t hurt me… he won’t hurt me….
Riddick took her elbow and stood, leaving her little choice but to follow suit. She stared at the narrow door that led from the waiting room to whatever lay beyond. Riddick just walked toward it blithely. He seemed impervious to her discomfort. That didn’t surprise her.
She had been to the doctor enough times in New Mecca to expect the standard check-up—height, weight, stuff like that. To her surprise, the nurse bypassed them completely.
“Mr. Grey, would you wait outside, please?” the somber woman said.
Jack grabbed for him. In that instant, she was more scared of being alone in this strange place than she was of him. He calmly untangled their arms and said, “Cooperate, Janine. They’re not gonna hurt you.”
Janine…? Oh. Her.
Jack nodded at him, knowing better than to make a scene. The tidy-looking nurse beckoned to her with a detached gesture. “This way, Miss Grey.”
Jack was led to a simple examination room. To her surprise, it held a table with stirrups, much like what she had seen at the gyno’s office. The nameless woman handed her a thin hospital gown. “There’s a restroom through that door. When you’ve changed, come tell me and we’ll get your dimensions for the procedure.”
Jack’s heart leapt to her throat and stayed there, pounding painfully. She forced a small smile and did as she was told.
The gown was as cold as it was thin, but besides the chilliness, it was surprisingly comfortable. Jack shivered as she adjusted the ties in the back to make it fit properly. She didn’t know what, exactly, Riddick had set her up for here, but whatever it was, she didn’t think she would like it much.
She reentered the examination room, and the nurse gestured toward a scale that Jack had previously overlooked. “Step up, please.” The ‘please’ sounded hollow, forced. Jack wanted to cry.
She stepped on the pad and waited a few second for the machine to take its reading. The digital numbers swam before her eyes in a dizzying dance of lines and dashes before settling into a definite number.
The nurse typed something into a handheld recorder. Jack could only assume it was her weight.
“Turn around,” the nurse commanded unnecessarily. Jack was perfectly familiar with the routine. Just because they waited to take her measurements until after she changed into whatever gown they stuck her in didn’t mean that she was in for anything cruel or unusual.
Yeah, right. She was here for a ‘procedure.’ She didn’t know what procedure, exactly, but whatever it was, she was willing to bet that it wouldn’t be pleasant.
The nurse mechanically measured her height and told her to ‘have a seat.’
“The doctor will be her with the sedative shortly,” she was informed before being left fearfully alone.
What in the world did Riddick have in store for her?
She didn’t have long to wait to find out. A middle-aged man with frown lines creasing his forehead and the corners of his mouth bustled into the examination room, his white coat flapping. He held a clipboard and was reading it, mumbling and nodding to himself. He didn’t seem to be aware that there was anyone else in the room.
Jack cleared her throat, hoping to make the doctor glance at her, at the very least. He looked up and squinted at her. At first she wondered why, but saw a pair of folded spectacles in his front pocket.
“I seem to have misplaced my glasses,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll find them. They’re probably in my office. Nothing to fear.” The pleasant words felt artificial to Jack.
“I think they’re in your pocket,” she said, pointing.
“Of course not. Don’t you think I would know if they were in my pocket? What to you take me for?” he huffed, heading over to a counter and removing a syringe and length of elastic rubber.
An idiot, Jack thought with a snicker. She sobered quickly, though. This guy was going to be… well, she didn’t know what, exactly, he was going to do, but whatever it was, she wanted him to be able to see what he was doing. Not for the first time, she wondered what the hell Riddick was thinking.
At that moment, his familiar deep voice cut through the tension that surrounded her. The small shadow of relief at hearing his voice she tried to explain away as just gratitude for something familiar. “What are you doing here?” she asked, not bothering to hide her surprise. Maybe it would cover her inexplicable relief.
“Makin’ sure this idiot doesn’t fuck up too badly. Don’t want you hurt.” The doctor turned and began to bluster an indignant response, but Riddick waved him off. “Save it and put your damn glasses on.”
The doctor didn’t have much choice but to obey, as far as Jack could see. When he approached her with the syringe, she looked at Riddick one last time, pleading with her eyes. Please, please don’t do this to me.
~*~
Riddick eased back into the chair he pulled in from the hall with a final glare at the doctor. Jack’s final terrified look faded as the doctor administered the injection.
“How long will she be out?” he rasped.
“I’d say an hour and a half, two at most,” the doctor replied, already positioning her legs in the stirrups. “Plenty of time to finish this up. She can wait in the recovery room just down the hall.”
Riddick shook his head. “Soon as you’re done, I’m taking her back to the ship. She’ll recover just fine there, and we’re on a tight schedule.”
The doctor looked alarmed. “You can’t do that! We need to monitor her for adverse reactions to the drug. She might be allergic. We don’t know. A hundred things could go wrong.”
Riddick had checked on this. She wasn’t allergic to a thing that he could see when he dug through her medical records on New Mecca. She’d be just fine… but apparently the doctor didn’t know this. The thought made his temper curdle and writhe. If he hadn’t been able to do those background checks, he would have had no idea if she was allergic to a thing or not. The doctor could have pumped anything into her, and he would have been powerless. He would have had to trust that the doctor knew what he was doing.
Thank God he hadn’t had to. The thought of Jack in danger here… he wanted to rip this doctor apart. “You mean you didn’t do a test first to see if she’s allergic to the fucking drug you just gave her?” he growled in a low voice, grabbing the doctor by the collar of his threadbare white coat.
The doctor squeaked. “I’m sure… I’m sure she’ll be fine! Truly! Keeping her around until she wakes up for observation is really nothing more than a safety measure.” He laughed nervously.
Riddick pulled the doctor close. Through his goggles, he could see the doctor’s eyes widen fear. “So she’s not in any danger.” He knew she was fine, but the doctor didn’t. That was what pissed him off.
“Danger?” the doctor gave another edgy laugh. “Of course she’s not in danger. She’s perfectly fine. Perfectly safe.”
“So as soon as you’re done you’ll give me a wheelchair and I can take her back to my ship. Right?” Riddick’s voice made it clear that this wasn’t a simple question.
The doctor nodded furiously. Riddick smiled… but there was nothing friendly about it. “Good. Now I suggest you get started. My launch window is in three hours.”
~*~
Jack woke up groggy and sore. It felt as though she had just finished a seven-hour marathon. She lay there in darkness odd for an examination room-- or a recovery room, if this place even had one-- without opening her eyes and tried to remember what happened. The doctor acting like a brainless idiot. Riddick showing up.
Riddick. The nurse had told him to wait outside. What was he doing inside the examination room?
Whatever. She felt too out of it to worry about it for long. What had they done to her, anyway? Those stirrups gave her a sneakily uncomfortable feeling. Trying to clear her head a bit more, she took stock of her body.
Feet first. They felt fine. She tried to move them. Okay, no problems there. Legs. Knees all right. Hips—
As soon as she tensed her hips, an awful pain radiated out from the center of her womb. She groaned with the force of it. The sharpness faded to a roiling nausea, which just as quickly shifted to a dull, thudding ache.
Okay. What the fuck had they done to her?
“Janine Grey?”
Jack looked up from the spot on the floor she was studying. Her heart was pounding. He won’t hurt me… he won’t hurt me….
Riddick took her elbow and stood, leaving her little choice but to follow suit. She stared at the narrow door that led from the waiting room to whatever lay beyond. Riddick just walked toward it blithely. He seemed impervious to her discomfort. That didn’t surprise her.
She had been to the doctor enough times in New Mecca to expect the standard check-up—height, weight, stuff like that. To her surprise, the nurse bypassed them completely.
“Mr. Grey, would you wait outside, please?” the somber woman said.
Jack grabbed for him. In that instant, she was more scared of being alone in this strange place than she was of him. He calmly untangled their arms and said, “Cooperate, Janine. They’re not gonna hurt you.”
Janine…? Oh. Her.
Jack nodded at him, knowing better than to make a scene. The tidy-looking nurse beckoned to her with a detached gesture. “This way, Miss Grey.”
Jack was led to a simple examination room. To her surprise, it held a table with stirrups, much like what she had seen at the gyno’s office. The nameless woman handed her a thin hospital gown. “There’s a restroom through that door. When you’ve changed, come tell me and we’ll get your dimensions for the procedure.”
Jack’s heart leapt to her throat and stayed there, pounding painfully. She forced a small smile and did as she was told.
The gown was as cold as it was thin, but besides the chilliness, it was surprisingly comfortable. Jack shivered as she adjusted the ties in the back to make it fit properly. She didn’t know what, exactly, Riddick had set her up for here, but whatever it was, she didn’t think she would like it much.
She reentered the examination room, and the nurse gestured toward a scale that Jack had previously overlooked. “Step up, please.” The ‘please’ sounded hollow, forced. Jack wanted to cry.
She stepped on the pad and waited a few second for the machine to take its reading. The digital numbers swam before her eyes in a dizzying dance of lines and dashes before settling into a definite number.
The nurse typed something into a handheld recorder. Jack could only assume it was her weight.
“Turn around,” the nurse commanded unnecessarily. Jack was perfectly familiar with the routine. Just because they waited to take her measurements until after she changed into whatever gown they stuck her in didn’t mean that she was in for anything cruel or unusual.
Yeah, right. She was here for a ‘procedure.’ She didn’t know what procedure, exactly, but whatever it was, she was willing to bet that it wouldn’t be pleasant.
The nurse mechanically measured her height and told her to ‘have a seat.’
“The doctor will be her with the sedative shortly,” she was informed before being left fearfully alone.
What in the world did Riddick have in store for her?
She didn’t have long to wait to find out. A middle-aged man with frown lines creasing his forehead and the corners of his mouth bustled into the examination room, his white coat flapping. He held a clipboard and was reading it, mumbling and nodding to himself. He didn’t seem to be aware that there was anyone else in the room.
Jack cleared her throat, hoping to make the doctor glance at her, at the very least. He looked up and squinted at her. At first she wondered why, but saw a pair of folded spectacles in his front pocket.
“I seem to have misplaced my glasses,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll find them. They’re probably in my office. Nothing to fear.” The pleasant words felt artificial to Jack.
“I think they’re in your pocket,” she said, pointing.
“Of course not. Don’t you think I would know if they were in my pocket? What to you take me for?” he huffed, heading over to a counter and removing a syringe and length of elastic rubber.
An idiot, Jack thought with a snicker. She sobered quickly, though. This guy was going to be… well, she didn’t know what, exactly, he was going to do, but whatever it was, she wanted him to be able to see what he was doing. Not for the first time, she wondered what the hell Riddick was thinking.
At that moment, his familiar deep voice cut through the tension that surrounded her. The small shadow of relief at hearing his voice she tried to explain away as just gratitude for something familiar. “What are you doing here?” she asked, not bothering to hide her surprise. Maybe it would cover her inexplicable relief.
“Makin’ sure this idiot doesn’t fuck up too badly. Don’t want you hurt.” The doctor turned and began to bluster an indignant response, but Riddick waved him off. “Save it and put your damn glasses on.”
The doctor didn’t have much choice but to obey, as far as Jack could see. When he approached her with the syringe, she looked at Riddick one last time, pleading with her eyes. Please, please don’t do this to me.
~*~
Riddick eased back into the chair he pulled in from the hall with a final glare at the doctor. Jack’s final terrified look faded as the doctor administered the injection.
“How long will she be out?” he rasped.
“I’d say an hour and a half, two at most,” the doctor replied, already positioning her legs in the stirrups. “Plenty of time to finish this up. She can wait in the recovery room just down the hall.”
Riddick shook his head. “Soon as you’re done, I’m taking her back to the ship. She’ll recover just fine there, and we’re on a tight schedule.”
The doctor looked alarmed. “You can’t do that! We need to monitor her for adverse reactions to the drug. She might be allergic. We don’t know. A hundred things could go wrong.”
Riddick had checked on this. She wasn’t allergic to a thing that he could see when he dug through her medical records on New Mecca. She’d be just fine… but apparently the doctor didn’t know this. The thought made his temper curdle and writhe. If he hadn’t been able to do those background checks, he would have had no idea if she was allergic to a thing or not. The doctor could have pumped anything into her, and he would have been powerless. He would have had to trust that the doctor knew what he was doing.
Thank God he hadn’t had to. The thought of Jack in danger here… he wanted to rip this doctor apart. “You mean you didn’t do a test first to see if she’s allergic to the fucking drug you just gave her?” he growled in a low voice, grabbing the doctor by the collar of his threadbare white coat.
The doctor squeaked. “I’m sure… I’m sure she’ll be fine! Truly! Keeping her around until she wakes up for observation is really nothing more than a safety measure.” He laughed nervously.
Riddick pulled the doctor close. Through his goggles, he could see the doctor’s eyes widen fear. “So she’s not in any danger.” He knew she was fine, but the doctor didn’t. That was what pissed him off.
“Danger?” the doctor gave another edgy laugh. “Of course she’s not in danger. She’s perfectly fine. Perfectly safe.”
“So as soon as you’re done you’ll give me a wheelchair and I can take her back to my ship. Right?” Riddick’s voice made it clear that this wasn’t a simple question.
The doctor nodded furiously. Riddick smiled… but there was nothing friendly about it. “Good. Now I suggest you get started. My launch window is in three hours.”
~*~
Jack woke up groggy and sore. It felt as though she had just finished a seven-hour marathon. She lay there in darkness odd for an examination room-- or a recovery room, if this place even had one-- without opening her eyes and tried to remember what happened. The doctor acting like a brainless idiot. Riddick showing up.
Riddick. The nurse had told him to wait outside. What was he doing inside the examination room?
Whatever. She felt too out of it to worry about it for long. What had they done to her, anyway? Those stirrups gave her a sneakily uncomfortable feeling. Trying to clear her head a bit more, she took stock of her body.
Feet first. They felt fine. She tried to move them. Okay, no problems there. Legs. Knees all right. Hips—
As soon as she tensed her hips, an awful pain radiated out from the center of her womb. She groaned with the force of it. The sharpness faded to a roiling nausea, which just as quickly shifted to a dull, thudding ache.
Okay. What the fuck had they done to her?