One Favor for Another [1/2], Chronicles of Riddick, Riddick/Vaako, pain
Shattered blades and bodies litter the ground; he retrieves his goggles, picking them up by broken strap, blood dripping into his eyes. "Are we done fuckin' around now?"
Armor creaks, boots shuffle, and no one speaks. Probably all too shocked that Riddick is still standing after throwing most of their best warriors (he wonders again why Vaako didn't show up and kill him too) against a breeder.
Riddick leaves, each image vibrating off the other until he can't tell if there are ten soldiers remaining or twenty. He reaches for the door and touches the wall. Sighing, he steps to the right and tries the second image. On the other side no Necros try to kill him and the blood in his eyes is a relief, coating his vision from the stinging bright light.
He takes this path daily, his rooms only a five-minute walk after a day on the bridge or in the throne room. It can't be that difficult to navigate partially blind. It's more a matter of why bother. Sweat mingles with blood and he can't tell how much of it is his. Probably too much. Whatever. He proved he could take them on and win, now to recover.
It's a much longer walk today. All the images blur and he walks into walls twice that he is sure are corridor entrances. He can't hear either--too many hilts to his head--but he's sure he smells someone else.
"Put your hand on my shoulder and I will guide you."
Ahh. There's Vaako. "You here to kill me with no witnesses?" Riddick has nothing left to give. No more knives and barely enough strength to retreat.
"I'm here to help, Riddick."
"You didn't help then, why now?"
"That wasn't my battle. You needed to prove to them you're a capable Lord Marshal."
"And this is your battle now?"
"Maybe."
It fucking doesn't matter anyway, so he holds his hand up between the two blurry images of Vaako. Riddick closes his eyes as he touches armor and lets himself be lead.
He wakes, cool hands on his forehead, a thumb between his chapped lips, forcing him to drink. Gagging, he coughs, shuddering through the pain it causes and sleeps again.
Some of the dreams are nightmares, some are memories, but none of them are good. He never really wakes, but each time he gets close, he feels a hand on his forehead or someone telling saying he's safe, and Riddick falls back to sleep, too tired to actually care.
Something unfamiliar is slung across his torso and legs. He hears a deep breath, feels the brush of air on his shoulder, and smells bare skin and bad breath beside him as if it is normal for another man to be in his bed.
"How do you feel?"
"Like a naked man is sleeping on me." Vaako chuckles and nods, hair tickling Riddick's skin; he offers no excuse but Riddick remembers dreaming a lot and knows Vaako's been there for some time.
His skin is dirty and itchy; there are dried fluids on his stomach and he needs to piss. He can't remember much but Vaako slings an arm around his waist and it feels familiar as they walk to the toilet. Riddick sits and Vaako leans around him, flicking dials to start the water flow, comfortable enough that his cock dangles inches away from Riddick's face.
Someone tried that in the slam once; Riddick remembers twisting it hard enough to rip it off. He has no such desire now.