Faith in the Darkness

“Why didn’t you go with him?”



Faith spun around, seeking out Jack’s form in the semi-darkness. The girl was leaning sideways in the doorway of the cargo hold, watching Faith beat the hell out of the workout bag. Her arms were crossed over her breasts, her stance casual, but Faith could sense the tension singing through her small frame. Jack didn’t appear to like her much.



“Why do you care?” Faith asked.



Jack shrugged and stepped slowly into the room. She’d showered and she was wearing a pair of shorts with the waist rolled down. They had to have been tied up because Faith recognized them as Riddick’s. One of his t-shirts was tied up to the bottom of Jack’s ribcage. Her dark hair was wet and her skin had been scrubbed clean.



She moved slowly around Faith, keeping to the edge of the mat and Faith’s eyes narrowed. She recognized the move, one convict to another. Some things didn’t change in eight hundred years. Jack’s muscles moved under her skin, lean but strong as she circled. She walked on the balls of her feet, silent, balanced. Faith tensed, ready.



Jack darted forward, striking out, almost lazily, testing Faith’s reaction. She countered the attack easily and smirked, vaguely amused. She saw annoyance flash on Jack’s face and the younger girl attacked again, with a well-aimed kick toward Faith’s head. Faith caught her foot and Jack spun away, landing neatly in a crouch. Anger blazed in those green eyes and Faith grinned. There was nothing like a good fight to work through a girl’s issues.



~*~



The bitch was smiling, like she thought this was some kind of game. Jack narrowed her eyes as she rose up from her crouch. They circled one another, exchanging light, testing blows, easily dodged and blocked.



Adrenaline hummed through Jack’s limbs and she attacked again, this time with purpose. Her heel connected with Faith’s chin and something flashed in Faith’s eyes, something dangerous. Jack felt the quiet thrill of anticipation and she steeled herself for the real fight. There was no apprehension, no fear. She had no doubt in her mind that she would win this battle. She was fighting for him, after all.



Faith’s first kick clipped the Jack’s cheek, but the second, executed in a neat spin, landed solidly in the center of Jack’s chest. Smaller and lighter, she flew backward a few feet, landing hard on the training mat.



She couldn’t breathe. Instinctively curling into a ball, Jack gasped for air, finally dragging a breath into her lungs, slowly and painfully. She struggled to her feet as quickly as possible, sure the other girl was going to attack her while she recovered from the blow. Faith, however, was standing in the same place she had been, her hands in loose fists, her body relaxed, but held in a ready position.



“Had enough?”



Jack narrowed her eyes.



“Not even close.”



~*~



The girl was tough, determined, but undisciplined. She rushed at Faith and the slayer stepped out of the way easily enough. Suddenly finding her back to her opponent, Jack spun around to face Faith, anger flashing in her green eyes. As the younger girl stepped toward her, Faith caught sight of Riddick, standing in the doorway. His goggles were in place and he leaned casually against the door frame, watching. She saw his jaw tighten and it was the only warning she had.



~*~



Faith’s eyes had locked on something behind her and Jack let go of any sense of reason she still possessed, letting her anger, her jealousy, her love guide her hand to the handle of the shiv that was tucked in the waistband of her shorts. Her opponent was distracted.



She never slowed her attack, just reached out with the shiv in hand. The blade flashed in the lights from over head, a silver glimmer, like the eyes of an animal in the dark, the eyes of a monster, Riddick’s eyes, before it bit into flesh. Then there was red, flowing over the shiv, over her hand, hot and sticky and she felt Faith’s hand close over her throat. Then they were falling.



~*~



The scent of her blood brought the beast inside him roaring to the surface in a way he’d never known. Riddick caught Faith before she hit the mats, Jack falling beside them. He saw the crimson stain spreading from the long tear in Faith’s shirt, the tear in her skin, along her ribs and under her right arm. He smelled the coppery scent, tasted it in the back of his mouth and raised his eyes to Jack, very slowly.



She was still face down on the mats, her head raised, green eyes wide, skin paling at something she saw in his face. He saw her muscles clench, her fingers press into the mat as she prepared to leap away from him.



~*~



It wasn’t Riddick she needed to fear. Faith rolled out of his grasp and caught Jack by the throat, quickly pinning the younger girl to the mat with one hand crushing Jack’s windpipe. Blood ran freely down her side as she straddled Jack, dark eyes burning into a green gaze. To her credit, Jack didn’t struggle much, just grabbed Faith’s wrist and fought to drag air into her lungs. Faith said nothing, just continued to squeeze Jack’s throat, her jaw clenched, her blood soaking into the other girl’s clothing.



Only when Jack’s eyes started rolling back in her head and her grip on Faith’s wrist loosened did she release her hold. Jack sucked in a breath and immediately started coughing as the air hit her raw throat. Faith waited until the coughing stopped and Jack’s hand was rubbing at her throat, her eyes watching Faith, warily.



“The next time you pull a knife on me, you’d better kill me,” she said, in barely more than a whisper. Faith’s voice was soft, dangerous, deadly and Jack’s jaw clenched. Staring into Jack’s eyes for a moment longer, Faith stood up and walked out of the training room.



~*~



Misery coursed through her like a sedative and Jack’s limbs felt unnaturally heavy as she cleaned the blood, Faith’s blood, off her hands and arms. Setting the blood stained cloth aside, she sat on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. A shiver ran through her and the unfamiliar sting of tears had her closing her eyes. The look on Riddick’s face, the anger, the shock, the shame? She’d pulled a sneaky, underhanded move and she knew he’d hate that. He hadn’t yelled, or even spoken to her. He just met her gaze with that mercury stare and turned and walked away from her. Harsh words she could have dealt with, could have argued with, but to be shunned completely, left staring after him, cut her to the bone.



~*~



She’d refused the topical anesthetic and Riddick’s gaze kept flicking back to Faith’s face, waiting for a telltale flinch, or a sharp intake of breath. There was nothing, only the cold, stony stare as the needle passed through her flesh, sewing her skin back together. The edges of the cut were clean, not ragged. Jack’s shiv had been well maintained and there wouldn’t be too much scarring. She hadn’t said much of anything since he’d walked into the bathroom to find her stripped from the waist up, rinsing the blood away, even as more flowed from the wound.



~*~



Without a word he’d grabbed her, taken a towel and pressed it over the flow of blood, leading her to his bed and making her lay down. Faith raised her right arm over her head and waited as he pulled a sewing kit from somewhere under the bed. She didn’t ask why he kept one on hand, but she assumed it wasn’t for mending his shirts. A man like Riddick had probably sewed himself up plenty of times.



She wasn’t sure why she refused the anesthetic. The needle hurt like hell going through her skin, but she didn’t let it show. Something inside her was screaming not to show any weakness, that she’d let her guard down too much on this ship and it wasn’t safe. Sure, Riddick was stitching her up, but she’d just threatened Jack, the only person Riddick had ever referred to as family. Maybe he just wanted to keep her alive so he could torture her longer later. The glimmer in those eyes was unreadable, the look on his face giving away nothing, so Faith kept her mouth shut and waited.



~*~



“It just pisses you off that she didn’t hop right on board with us, doesn’t it? That you’re not her knight in shining armor,” Spike said, with a condescending smirk. Angel turned a glare on the other vampire.



“Shut up, Spike.”



“You hero types never do learn to accept that some people don’t need saving,” Spike continued, watching Angel’s jaw clench. After almost a thousand years, he never tired of deliberately provoking Angel. He doubted he ever would. It was just two damned amusing.



“And you never learn when to quit,” Angel said, with a slight baring of his teeth. His face hadn’t transformed, but the threat was there. Spike was definitely pushing all the right buttons and his grin widened.



“You’re one to talk. She told you she didn’t need any help and here we are, following the ship of a mass murderer, just so you can try to talk her into coming with us at the next port. Go ahead, try to deny it,” Spike dared.



Angel said nothing, just turned to the console and started punching buttons. Spike watched as the face of Richard B. Riddick popped up on the screen and a list of the man’s crimes began scrolling beneath the picture. With a shake of his head, he left Angel to his brooding and entered his cabin. The door slid shut behind him and he reached for his smokes. Flicking his lighter, he held it to the end of the cigarette and inhaled the smoke into his lungs. It was a good thing he wasn’t human or he’d have died from lung cancer several times over by now. Lying back on his pillow, his booted feet crossed at the ankle, leather trench coat spread out on the bed beneath him, Spike let his thoughts turn to more interesting matters.



Faith had never been the type to take orders or listen to reason. It was just like her to travel through time and land in the lap of a man as vicious as herself and then want to stay there. Angel would never come to terms with the idea. He was convinced that Faith needed saving, be it from Riddick or from herself. Spike wondered what Angel feared more; that Faith would be in danger, or that she would be drawn by the blood, the violence. That she would step into Riddick’s world and not want to leave.



The girl, though, Jack, was the one Spike wondered about. He’d heard she was a killer. He and Angel had looked up her file on the computer when they got back on board. She had indeed killed her share of men. There was a big difference, though between her and Riddick. By all accounts, Riddick had killed for money, freedom, revenge and even for pure pleasure. Jack’s list of kills were mostly mercs, people who’d threatened her in some way. She might be a killer, but she wasn’t as stone cold as he was, as hard as she’d like people to believe, Spike mused. She intrigued him. Closing his eyes, he let a tiny smirk curve over his lips. They would be docking in the near future and Spike had a feeling the next few days were going to be very interesting.



~*~