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When Riddick came to, the first thing he noticed was that the familiar weight of his goggles was gone. Keeping his eyes closed against the glare of artificial lighting, he assessed his surroundings as best he could. His arms and legs were restrained, and he could feel the familiar hum of a ship under his feet. The pounding headache he was also supporting, told him that he had been hit by some strong-ass tranquilizer. A regular one wouldn’t have knocked him out. Whoever had caught him wasn’t some rookie, then.
Approaching footsteps alerted Riddick that his captor was coming closer and he could smell leather, gunpowder and something else that he couldn’t quite identify. Definitely male and definitely merc type, though. Shit, Riddick hated spending time with mercs.
Unless they were in cryo, mercs talked way too much, taunting Riddick with what was in store for him in whatever slam they were taking him to or telling tales about all the criminals they had supposedly captured. Being taunted didn’t bother him, but those idiots talking shit all the time annoyed him. Even worse when there was more than one.
This one seemed to be alone though. The merc had stopped in front of Riddick and seemed to be aware that he was awake. Riddick wasn’t about to break the silence, so he just kept his head angled to where his senses were telling him the other man stood. “The infamous Richard B. Riddick,” the merc drawled and Riddick could feel the assessing and expecting gaze on him. He continued to keep quiet.
The man snorted. “File said, you weren’t one for talking, but you won’t even look at me? You’re something else.” Riddick heard him move closer until he could feel the other man’s breath on his face. He opened his mouth to tell him that the light was too bright for him to open his eyes, but all that came out was a croaking groan. His mouth was drier than the deserts of Butcher Bay. Fucking tranquilizer.
Riddick heard more movement and then something was pressed against his lips. After a few moments, he realized it was a straw and he sucked on it letting the cool water soothe his parched throat. The merc didn’t move away until Riddick indicated that he had enough which was surprisingly decent of him. For a merc, anyway. “Thank you,” he said because he could be decent too.
He could practically feel the other man’s surprise. “You’re welcome,” he said, and Riddick could feel that assessing gaze again. He just waited it out. “You know,” the merc finally said, “I’ve seen a lot of dirtbags and scum, but something about you seems … different, not like the violent convict and murderer type.”
Riddick snorted. “I’m sure my rep sheet would disagree.”
“But you wouldn’t?” There was curiosity in the man’s voice, but also doubt. He was probably the weirdest merc Riddick had ever met, but he wasn’t about to spill his life story to a stranger. Especially since he wouldn’t believe him anyway. No one ever had.
Riddick leaned back as far as the chains would allow him. “What’s it to you? I’m just a paycheck anyway,” he said nonchalantly like it wasn’t bothering him. And it wasn’t. Mostly. Whatever slam he was brought to this time he would just break out of again. Maybe after his escape he would finally find a deserted planet where people would leave him alone.
The other man had nothing to say to that and changed the topic. “Why won’t you look at me?”, he asked again, mostly curious. Riddick was surprised that his file hadn’t been updated about his eyeshine yet. It was after all a very distinguishing feature.
“You’d have to turn down the light for that,” he said, “and tell me your name.” He wanted to know who this man was, very unlike mercs he had met before. Almost tolerable even. He could feel that the other man was weighing his options.
“Name’s Johns. William J. Johns. My friends call me Billy,” he finally said. His voice was moving away, probably he was walking to the cabin control for the light. “What do I need to turn the light to? And why?”, he asked from across the room.
Riddick thought about it for a moment. “Thirty percent,” he decided, which should be low enough for it to be comfortable for him and still light enough that Johns could see. “And you’ll see.” After a few seconds, the light behind his eyelids began to dim.
Slowly Riddick opened his eyes and blinked a few times to get used to the light which while still comfortable was different to his goggles or the total darkness that he preferred. Finally he could see that he was in the cabin of a small ship, clearly built and outfitted for one person though there were two bunks. Two doors were leading off, probably to the cockpit and to the cargo hold.
Johns was standing back in front of Riddick and he took the opportunity to assess the merc. He was lean but muscled and clearly trained. The utility clothing he wore was sturdy and suited for combat and he also had a bullet proof vest on. At his hip were a gun holster and knife sheath though both weapons were missing. Smart that.
Finally, he looked at Johns’ face and their eyes met. Riddick felt a jolt go through him, a feeling of connection he couldn’t explain or understand before it was gone, and whatever Johns was about to say was cut off by a gasp as his eyes widened. He started to look around in what Riddick could only call amazement and the convict suppressed a confused frown.
“What’s going on?”, he asked, and Johns turned back to him, a smile of wonderment on his face. He clearly expected to see something different in Riddick’s expression and his face fell.
“You can’t see it,” he whispered and looked into Riddick’s eyes. That feeling of connection reappeared though much weaker. Johns turned away and let out of a bitter laugh that sent a chill down Riddick’s spine. “Of course, you don’t see it. Out of all the people in the universe…” he trailed off shaking his head in frustration.
See… the realisation hit Riddick like a lightning bolt as Johns continued to look around his own ship like he had never seen it before. He could see colour. Johns had looked Riddick in the eyes and could now see colour. He was Riddick’s mate, his soulmate.
“You’re my mate,” he said slowly, could hear the disbelief in his own voice. He was used to being alone, preferred it even and had never given much thought to having a soulmate. With his life he had expected them to be dead before they could ever meet. But now it was real. He had a soulmate
At his words, Johns had turned around, his face closing off again. “What’s it to you?”, he snapped, parroting Riddick’s own words. “You obviously never cared to meet me.” He gestured to the convict’s face clearly indicating his eyes. “And you’re a convict and a murderer. That doesn’t just go away because I can see colour, especially since you never will.”
The words stung poking something that he had buried shortly after he had woken up with the world glowing around him despite him being in total darkness. Riddick had realised that should he ever meet his soulmate he wouldn’t get to experience that connection that seeing colour for the first time together brought. He would forever only know the world in black and white and the glowing forms of his night vision.
“That’s not true,” he said lowly, “I always wanted to meet my soulmate, to meet you. I’ve always been alone, no family, no connections to anyone. I thought I would get that when I meet my soulmate, but with how my life went so far, I also thought they were most likely dead. Never killed that little bit of hope though.”
His admission was met by stifling silence. “Bullshit,” was finally whispered, before Johns repeated it louder. “Bullshit! How dare you lie to me? You got an eyeshine job which you knew would strip your vision down! How can you say, you cared, and you hoped when you willingly gave up the chance of that connection? Never mind that you very likely would have died-“
“I didn’t choose it, alright?”, Riddick half-shouted, raising his voice for the first time and cutting Johns off. “I didn’t get an eyeshine job willingly or even unwillingly. I was getting stitched up for some injuries when I suddenly got this… vision or whatever it was and next thing I know, everything is glowing and all my chances of ever seeing colour are gone!”
Johns stared in disbelief while Riddick got himself under control. He rarely lost his temper like that. “You really think I would believe that?”, Johns said, staring at him, challenge in his eyes. Riddick held his gaze unflinchingly and shrugged as best he could.
“It’s the truth. I may look human, but I don’t think I am. The eyes seem to be part of my species.” Again, there was silence. Then Johns snorted which turned into slightly hysterical laughter. Riddick waited him out while he got himself back under control.
“Okay, let’s assume you’re telling the truth,” he said once he had calmed down, “how would the people of your species know who their soulmates are? Do they even have them?” Riddick could see that Johns was ignoring the whole convict/mercenary angle of their problem for the moment and focussing instead on if they both had and wanted a soulmate. Interesting.
“I don’t think they all had the eyes,” he admitted with a frown. “The woman in my vision didn’t. But when our eyes meet, I can feel this … connection. I don’t understand it, but when I feel it now, I know that you are my mate.” As if on command their eyes met again and Riddick could feel it, something like an inner joy, that something in him knew his mate was within arm’s reach.
He wanted to reach out, to touch but his arms were still chained to the wall. “I-… please,” he whispered, his arm straining the chain. Johns gave him a sharp, evaluating look which Riddick returned hoping the other could see his sincerity. This wasn’t about Johns being a merc and Riddick a convict, but something much bigger. About soulmates.
Whatever Johns saw seemed to convince him because he took a key out of his boot and freed one of Riddick’s arms. Riddick moved slowly until his hand was cupping the side of Johns’ neck, his thumb stroking the other’s jawline as the feeling of connection flared to life, much stronger than before. Johns gasped leaning into the touch and clearly feeling the same connection, like Riddick hoped he would. They were made for each other after all.
They had a lot to talk about still. Riddick’s past. Why his mate smelled like pain and morphine which he could identify now that the other was so close. Their future most of all. But in that moment, they both knew, they wouldn’t and couldn’t let that feeling go again. And maybe, just maybe it would be enough.