Doctor Who and The Great Eclipse: Part 29/34
A/N: This chapter goes into some detail about the nature of injuries and biology. Very adult subject matter. Please be aware that this is added only to further the plot and explain why they enact the revenge that they do later.
Sanguine
They were all on high alert. How could they not be? Simon Tam switched his hand lamp for his medical scanner, set to detect the local life-signs at maximum range. Or a bit beyond, thanks to the Doctor’s fiddling. Something was allowing the bioraptors to track them. It was not their echolocation. The constant clicking and popping going on around them was even sweeps like the predators couldn’t see the group but still knew that they were there. And something was driving the hammerheads to attack like sharks on a blood trail. But what?
That was the thing. It was a blood trail. Something was acting to attract the hammerheads. And down here was where the bull males were, the tough mean ones that didn't stop for a bit of light. Rich’s idea that it was a blood scent was a good one, but no injuries had been sustained and left untreated. Simon had made doubly sure of that. Both of the females in the party that might be menstruating were not. Was it Mr. Olgivie’s expensive cologne? Was it the food rations? Had they overlooked something? “Incoming, from the left!” Simon called.
Imam, Suleiman, and the Doctor faced that way, pushing Ali more towards Jack. Something about the boys was acting to make them a target, even with all the light on them and the fact that they were in the most protected spot. The entire group concentrated on protecting the children, even Johns. All but Paris, who as typical tried to keep himself behind the boys, using them as a shield. River lifted her spear into the air to guard their heads, and Suleiman mimicked her. As the native predators came into sight, Fry picked off the lead with a well-placed shot. Johns was right with her, shoulder to shoulder, aiming at the next threat and blowing it into blue mist from the range of the blast. The Time Lord’s sonic screwdriver let off another jolt of sound and the creatures stopped their charge and squealed in pain. Without hesitation the Time Lord ordered, “Go!” He gestured to the right, moving with them in such a way as to block the flank but not stress the fiber optic lead.
They all swerved to the right, falling into formation like a well oiled unit. It was amazing that the could work together in such a fashion, but none of them bothered to question it as they dodged into a passage and followed a weaving path between short tunnels or long narrow pillars, ranks tightened to protect the children in the center of the group. It was becoming clear to all of them that something about Jack and Ali was driving the hammerheads to brave the light again and again ignoring the intense pain and damage the illumination caused. They were all wondering what it was. Was it the size of the children? Or was it because they were weaker then the adults? Was it the difference in their scent, the fact that they had not reach maturity yet? Or was it the art dealer that huddled behind the boys that the predators were after?
The survivors made a left and then centered out in their path toward the Doctor’s ship. It seemed like they might have shaken their determined followers for the moment. “What did you do?” Riddick asked the Doctor as they jogged, faster than a walk but not so fast that the kids couldn't keep up. Now normally he’d ignore the strange twinges about someone’s scent when in danger like this, but he was really very glad that the Doctor was next to him. He was not sure what he’d have done if the man wasn’t.
“Shattered the membranes in their olfactory glands,” the pale fellow said, acting as though the option was just one of many. Rich didn't know much about big words though, or at least he didn't think he did. The frown as he puzzled out the word 'olfactory' was enough to make the Doctor add, “Took away their sense of smell.”
Richard forced his mind away from the spicy sweet leather tinged odor and thought about the behavior he’d observed. “Goin’ after the kids. Heading right for the center of the group every damn time.”
The pale man next to Rich nodded. He noticed that too, and for the most part the predators were targeting Jack. He sent the suggestion to Simon that perhaps the boy needed a medical scan when they stop next. The young surgeon mentally replied that he would do so. Whatever had happened to make Jack the target was worth solving. If the boy was injured why hadn't he spoken up sooner?
Abu and Paris were listening intently. Riddick knew the holy man had reason to listen, as Ali and Jack were best friends now, and the young orphaned boy had rather chosen the Imam as a secondary protector. But the art dealer's attention bothered him. What did the man hope to overhear? Why was he acting so interested now, when he'd more or less threatened Jack time and time again for the boy being too loud or mis-mannered? Was it as simple as the fact that they were all making this run together that made the fellow act like he cared? Or was there something else going on? Imam asked, “But why? We need to figure out why.”
The con knew who he suspected of hurting the kid, based on what he'd witnessed time and time again from Johns. The man had little care for those weaker than himself. Or at least he acted like he did. He'd shot children to flush his prey out. He'd threatened them with violent injury first, cutting them up to make it seem like his quarry had done it. He'd scared the shit out of the surviving children, messing them up for life. So had Johns taken a knife or a belt to Jack? Riddick glanced over his shoulder and said, “Oh… I’m starting to think I know why. Only, I’m not sure what to do about it.” His eyes focused briefly back on Johns. The merc scowled at him, and then jerked his chin to indicate that they were not safe. No... no, they weren't. But was that heightened danger caused by something the redhead had done? Richard was not sure one way or the other. His instinct was to blame Johns, but...
Something tickled at his awareness about Ogilvie. The man was intent on the words and seemed overly concerned considering what he’d fought with Jack about before. Could the art dealer be more than he hinted at? Could he be behind this? Richard would have to watch Jack interact with Paris a bit more to be sure, either way.
Behind the survivors were the biggest, toughest bulls of the bioraptor lot. Both the human/alien group and the natives themselves knew this truth. They ignored the harsh burn, the pain. Battle scars hardened them to the fire. Both knew also that the contest between them was life or death for both parties. One side would live and mate, the other would die. For the red blooded group, the fight for life was the most pressing thing, mating might come later. The pheromones were certainly there. But for the blue blooded ones... killing and mating were one and the same. All the larger bulls needed for uncontested access to as many females as they wanted, all they needed to assure themselves a harem, was some red blood.
It was not as if the two groups were unaware of each other. The red-bloods had ways to tell where the blue-bloods were, and vice versa, for that matter. And both sides had weapons. The soft and sweet red-bloods, this time around, had not only the hated light-fire that burned the natives, but they had ways to bite back with sound and booming devices they carried. The bitter old bulls reacted to the bloodshed as they might over being challenged by some fool youngling, with rage and determined hostility, all sharp teeth and claws. The ability to come at the prey from any angle was forever useful, although thus far the ranks of the oldest bulls had been thinned rather a lot.
And then something odd happened, even though the remaining bulls knew the red-bloods were there still, in the same tunnels they inhabited when the fire was in the sky, they lost their scent in a blaze of pain. What had once led them like a sanguine ribbon wafting in the air became impossible to detect for the older ones, and the younger challengers behind them that could still smell it had to be prevented from getting that red blood and taking over the older bulls' positions within the pack.
The red-bloods moved more and more away from the fighting, unaware that the larger males had a vested interest in keeping the smaller, younger, males from getting close to the prey. They kept moving, scanning, anticipating another attack that didn’t come. Slowly they became aware that perhaps they had shaken off the group following them. Still they did not dare to stop. They were driven by their sense of panic and desire to live. They kept a fast pace, even as one by one the bottles of alcohol burnt out. And yet, they did not stop until they were almost all dead on their feet, stomaches growling for food, mouths dry for moisture. They had been moving through the bioraptor tunnels for over a day and a half now. Finally back on track to reach the TARDIS after numerous side tracks and delays.
Switching back to hand lights as needed, they kept making their way through, slowly climbing now, following the path of the hills. It was the children that forced them to stop, finally. Jack stumbled and Suleiman caught him. A wordless thanks was passed, and the event noticed by the young Doc-Tam. “We need to stop again. We should rest,” Simon called out, noticing that Ali was in about the same shape as Jack. They were in a fairly narrow, low passage now, in the bend of a turn. They decided to stop there, so that they could put the boys against the wall and protect them from two sides.
Jack sank down to the floor gratefully, not caring about where, and luckily not being forced to move right away. He weakly struggled out of his backpack. He hurt, all over. His legs and muscles were sore. His feet ached. His head was throbbing, and he felt the damp in his underclothes that indicated re-injury. So embarrassing. How was he to actually tell anyone that his ass was bleeding? It wasn't his fault. It burned, so bad. But - if he told then there was the threat to his friend hanging over him still. He was too tired to even flinch from the low-level constant pain, to weary to cry.
Ali settled next to his friend and stifled a yawn, “Feels like it’s been days. Don’t think I’ll ever want to stay up past my bedtime again.” Jack murmured an agreement and shifted to get more comfortable, hoping that his friend didn't think it was odd behavior. Ali's too engrossed in rubbing his own feet to notice much about Jack's discomfort. He didn't even think it overly odd when the shaved-headed boy shifted onto his hip and leaned onto his pack. Jack's green eyes caught River's expression of faint horror though. He quickly glanced away, taking in what the adults were doing. Off to the ‘back’ of the group Johns and Fry were reloading weapons and counting ammo. Over at the ‘front’ Simon and the Doctor were huddled with Richard and playing with the medical scanner. Jack had to fight the urge to wiggle in discomfort as those silver eyes glanced at he and Ali. “You Okay, Jack?” the Arabic boy asked.
“No. I’m not,” the green-eyed boy lashed out at his friend without thinking overly much. “We got monsters with razor sharp teeth trying to eat us, Ali. I’m definitely not ‘OK’. I’m scared shitless. And I don’t want to hurt you, but Hassan is dead. How many more of us will die before this is over?”
Ali clapped a hand onto Jack’s shoulder, not noticing his friend flinching from the touch, “God will protect us. You just need faith in that.”
“He sure as shit didn’t protect Hassan, did He?” Jack snapped. Then seeing the pain on the other boy’s face, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean that. I’m sure God had plans for your brother and that was meant to be his place to go, if it makes it any easier for you, Ali. I’m just - tired. And my feet hurt.” Jack sensed the approach of an adult before he knew which one it was, and managed to squash the impulse to rabbit away from presence. He glanced up to see pale skin and dark hair. Simon. He liked the Doc. The young medic was a good person. But the expression on the man's face made him shiver inside. Just like River and the older alien Doctor, this younger fellow had figured it out. Or at least guessed. Jack found himself rocking even before the other man had settled down in front of them.
Simon was all 'Dr. Tam' business-like at the moment. He felt more than saw the evidence of trauma in Jack. The boy had been abused. Perhaps he'd run away from home because of it. Perhaps something else had happened. Jack's shaved scalp revealed scars that looked to be from beatings, but not old ones, necessarily. They might have been a year or two old at the most. Cryo worked wonders for healing scars like those. The other option to explain the scars was a fall, he supposed, but the hints of burns lent credence to the boy being abused. Now his over arching concern was trying to fix this, at least enough to get them all through the situation alive.
He first needed to get Jack alone. Thankfully, Imam and Suleiman were getting ready to pray. Simon crouched down in front of the two children, “Ali, would you please go over to Imam and your brother? I believe they are praying, and you should be as well.” The child nodded and moved without questioning him. Jack bit back a groan and started to get up as well. Simon stopped the youth, “Jack. I need to scan you.”
“No! There ain’t no reason. Leave me alone.”
The Tam scion caught the child before he could flee. Normally he'd not grab a injured scared patient, but this was not in any way normal. He needed to scan the boy, and he needed to do it before they ran into more of the natives. Not to mention that the boy looked pale, too pale, and that frightened the young doctor. What if the child was bleeding, hemorrhaging, badly? What if he needed to do surgery to stop an internal injury? “Jack! Listen here, if you are injured someplace that is not visible I need to treat it.” What if the boy was dying in front of them and they've ignored it too long? “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”
Simon gave Jack a look; “If that is so then I won’t find anything, will I?” Jack slumped back to the floor and pouted. Slowly the medical scanner made its way over the child, with the ebony-haired man getting a deeper frown as he tabulated the information that he was getting. It wasn't that the boy was dying, but rather some of the readings made no sense what-so-ever. The child had two more ribs than normal, but otherwise seemed basically human, proper number of most organs at least, except for the digestive system, which possessed an extra couple of twists that seemed to indicate extreme efficiency in getting every calorie and bit of nutritional value from every bite of food.
Something about this twinged at his awareness. Where had he seen this pattern of dual stomachs and twinned intestines that led into a singular opening for excrement? He scanned Jack's lower torso, noting that one large intestine didn't seem fully attached to the rest of his digestive system, rather Jack had two of them, one of which seemed self contained and not connected to his small intestines at all and the other seemed to have urethra tubes linking it to the bladder, and was rather Cloacal-like, and yet not. It was interesting in that the lad seemed perfectly fine with this opening, and that he functioned without issue with it, and there was no sign of infection or other problems. He knew he'd seen similar before, but where? Likely he'd remember later.
The injury was to the rather more normal looking anal opening and was not that bad, although the cause of it could only be one thing. That pissed the Tam scion off in a major way. The boy was suffering from internal abrasions and some minor tearing, anal fissures, mostly. These were not nearly as serious as he'd feared they were, and with some care he could treat it as long as they could stop the penetration from happening again. Simon latched onto his feelings of relief and pushed the shaking rage away for a moment, “Alright, Jack. I can fix this.” He reached out to touch the child’s chin and lifted his face. The boy did not flinch from him. In fact being told it could be fixed eased away so much fear that the boy launched himself into Simon's arms as he cried. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Who’d believe me?” the boy sobbed out. Jack found himself surrounded by warm arms in a hug that was all comfort.
“I do,” Simon whispered into the child’s ear. “Come on, I’ve got some medications that will solve this problem.” He moved the boy over a bit and carefully set up a privacy screen, feeling grateful to the Doctor for insisting that they take a sheet with them, as he used it and some spears for the division. Once that was done he turned back to the boy, “I’ll need to get a look at how bad it is, Jack.” The Tam scion wanted to know who did this to the boy so he could do similar to them; he was so angered. But Jack didn’t need the cold fury so Simon slammed it aside again. Better to deal with healing the child first, and then allow the Doctor to deal with the revenge side of things.
Shaking now, Jack struggled out of the glowing sweater and lifted his layered shirts to reveal old burns, like someone took a cigar and put it out against his skin. Old but not that old. They, like the scars on the boy's scalp looked to be about a year or so aged. He wondered what happened to Jack in the first place. Had the boy run away from an abuser only to end up being taken advantage of here too? How had they not seen it happening? Simon kept his face neutral even though the boy was not looking at him. Keeping his eyes on the floor Jack dropped his pants to let Simon see the cause of the fresh injury. “It was my fault. Don’t go blamin’ anyone.”
Simon moved over to Jack and took his chin again, “This is not about placing blame, not on you or anyone. Got that?” The green-eyed boy nodded. As a doctor, Simon could put his emotion aside for the time being and deal with this injury first. He pulled out a space blanket and had the boy kneel so he could clean and examine the wounds before trying to apply the proper creams and sealers to stop the blood. He still couldn't figure out how this had happened without no one noticing. Finally he asked the boy, “Where?”
“Bathrooms. I shouldn’t have invited it. It -- ”
Dr Tam placed a light hand on the boy’s thin back, “Never. Jack this is never your fault. If I ask you ‘who’ will you tell me?” At the same time he pulled an antiseptic wipe and began cleaning the area around the wound and carefully checking how bad it was. Jack shook his head and didn’t even flinch as he automatically moved to make it more accessible.
“Back home that would’ve been getting off easy. Not the first time, you know? I didn’t think much of it. It happened and I didn’t get burned, so…”
“Back home? None of your injuries are over a year old. How did this start?” Simon went silent as he worked, carefully dawning a glove and massaging until the boy was comfortable and relaxed with him.
“OK, not home- home. Where I escaped from- home.” Jack was actually enjoying the touch, completely at ease and trusting. “It'll sound crazy, but I was heading home from school and this cyborg-like guy grabbed me off the street and everything sort of spun and shifted...” the boy paused a moment and then plunged into the rest of it, unsure of how the Doc was going to react, “They said that it was to get even with my Da. That he'd done something or hurt someone and made them mad so they were gonna use me to hurt him. But my Da - he's dead, so I just played along until I could slip away. They did a lot stuff, I sorta forgot who I was for a while...”
“I need to apply this topical sealant, internally,” the Doc said quietly.
Jack bit his lip, “Nothing with salicylic acid, right? I'm allergic to those compounds.”
Simon paused and double checked the gel, “It's perfectly safe for you. Thank you for telling me about your allergy, Jack.” The boy nodded, as if such a thing were a given and only hissed slightly when the topical medicine was applied. The follow up shot didn’t even garner a reaction. Once the actual weeping of blood stopped the Tam scion quietly asked, “Are you positive that this has not happened to anyone else? Like Ali, for example?”
That question made the boy stiffen with alarm. Then Jack twisted to look at the older young man with scared green eyes, “Please, no...” It was difficult to say if the boy was reacting to the request for more information or if he had not thought about the risk to his friend. In reality he was terrified that he'd been lied to and that the sick jerk had done this to Ali too, counting on the fact that the boys wouldn't talk to each other about it. Finally he said, “He promised.” Then with a resigned slump, “I - don’t know.”
Dr. Tam provided the boy with clean underclothes and helped him dress, amazed that the child was able to hold himself together under this sort of situation. He'd seen adults who had been attacked in like fashion totally fall apart. The next step was to locate who had the daring to pull this off under their noses. Only Jack knew, and he wasn't sure that the boy was willing to say. Simon had to try, “Who did this, Jack.”
Jack shook his head and started to sob. There was no way he could say as long as Ali was at risk. He just wouldn't. He'd given his word and his athair had always insisted that his word was his bond. Without it he was nothing. Since he had nothing else to give he had to cling to that.
Simon emerged from the screen to find that the adults were all focused on one tunnel or another, and that River, Suleiman, and Ali were watching the white sheet with worry at the quiet sobs still coming out from behind it. He glared at a few backs, only one of which actually deserved it, trying to get his anger back under control. Jack refused to say who had done the deed, breaking into tears instead. Riddick was watching, out of the corner of his eye. Simon glowered at the ex-ranger too, only to his face.
Rich walked over, “Well?”
“It was Jack they were following.” He held up a sealed pouch with the child’s underclothes. “And if I find out who did this to the boy they are going to be in a world of trouble.” He wouldn't mention the odd readings he had gotten from his medical scan, even though he couldn't shake the feeling that he should recognize it from someplace.
The bronze skinned man stared at the packet, letting the Doc's anger soak in to his awareness while he puzzled over everything,“So, Jack’s not a girl.” Riddick seemed slightly dazed, and that was nearly enough to push Simon's suspicion off him. Then there was the fact that the con had been sure that Jack’s cover concealed the fact that there was a girl under the bravado.
The smaller dark-haired man’s jaw clenched as he struggled with the rage again. How long had Riddick been able to smell the tinge of blood on the boy? And why hadn't he said anything sooner? He fixed the silver-eyed man with a glare that could nearly peel paint. The con took half a step back, surprised by the raw anger there. “Jack is male. As male as you or I.” At this Rich nodded, looking humbled. Simon relaxed, feeling that he could trust this man. He might be a killer but he was not a sexual predator. He would not have raped a child. Still he had to ask, to be sure, “Can you swear you never touched the boy?”
There was an undercurrent in the words that made the bronze skinned man shiver. Someone'd been hurting Jack and the kid just sucked up and kept quiet. No wonder he’d settled down and started being all silent and respectful like. But who? He knew who his suspects, but he wasn’t sure it was a wise idea to just blurt them out. He'd never seen the Doc so pissed off. It was like the shadow of fury he had felt in the alien, like given time it could be just as powerful. “I never laid a finger on him to hurt him, Simon. I don’t swing to the young. But --” He glanced over at the merc, “There are others who might.”
Simon stepped up into Riddick's personal space, showing no fear, “If you smelled blood on Jack why didn't you say anything?”
“It's been weeks since I noticed the faint lacing of iron in the boy's scent, OK. I thought --” the ex-ranger shrugged, “I thought Jack was a girl. You're not supposed to notice stuff like that. I was being polite.”
The Doc-kid rubbed his own face, “If you are lying to me I’ll castrate you.”
“If I’m lying, I’ll castrate myself. With a dull, rusty pin.” Richard was trembling now, from the wash of rage that ignited his own. If Johns did this he’ll strangle the blue-eye devil with his own intestines. “Can I see him? Think he’ll want someone there?”
“Yes.” Simon stepped back and allowed the con to pass him, “Try to move him, I need to scan Ali.” The professional detachment was back in place, making the Tam scion seem the mild mannered and the perfectly soothing medical professional.
Richard clenched his fist and rocked on the balls of his feet before nodding. Someone was going to pay. He took a deep breath and stepped behind the makeshift screen, “Why, Jack? Why didn’t you say anything?” The boy didn’t react until he felt the large warm hand on his shoulder that he knew was safe. Then he threw himself at the big muscled man and cried harder. The same question was rattling around in his own brain. Did giving his word to someone that hurt him count? Should he have told someone? If Ali was untouched, now that others knew, could he reveal who had done this? He didn’t know why, but brain kept telling him he couldn't tell. He couldn’t, not yet. Maybe later... but not here and now.
The ex-ranger enfolded the thin child in his arms and carried him out from behind the screen. He noticed two things. One, Jack was light for his size. Two he was cool to the touch much as River was. But was his temperature due to his being chilled or was it natural? He hugged the boy to him and scanned the others. He couldn’t take the boy over to the Doctor, because River was moving over there. Richard didn’t trust Paris or Johns. The only one he did trust was Imam. Telling the holy man that one of his charges might have been abused wasn’t going to be fun. He sure hoped Ali came back with a reading that indicated he'd remained unharmed.
River slunk back to the Doctor, working her way under his leather jacket. She needed to hide in the face of the rage her brother was radiating like sharp spikes of bright sunlight and the golden mini-fireworks of fury and worry from Rich that were like the sparks from metal as it was being forged. Jack’s brown was so dark it was almost black. The contrast hurt. The Time Lord pulled her in, trying to protect both Simon and River at the same time and from each other. She whimpered. He stroked her hair and increased the mental blocks around her mind, cutting off Simon almost totally from his sister. The young man was too focused on his task to currently notice.
Johns watched the drama unfold, trying to tamp down his own sense of panic over it. He had periods of blackouts, from the morphine, and was wondering if he'd done something stupid. But even in a drug induced haze he didn't think he'd hurt anyone. Surely he'd have not been crafty enough to escape notice with how the Doctor watched his every gorram move like a hawk. So if he wasn't the one behind this then who was? The Doctor? Imam? Rich? Ogilvie? Surely if the Tam kid had done it he'd not be so self righteously angered, and besides he'd had plenty of meds to hide it if so. The Doctor was about as predatory as a rabbit, as far as that went. And the Imam too. Would Rich be so trusted by the kid if he'd buggered him? No. The marshal stared at the art dealer. Paris was crouched down in the light looking confused. Something about the man wasn't adding up. Why could he read maps and use survey gear? What was it about the fellow that was suddenly bothering him so much. All that expensive stuff... on a cheap freighter? Surely there was more to it than that. Then again, maybe he was ignoring his own guilt.
Carolyn moved away from Johns and over to Jack and Riddick while Simon escorted Ali off behind the screen, meeting them as they reached Abu. “Rich? Jack?” She put a hand on the boy’s head and noticed that he flinched slightly before almost nuzzling into her hand as she gently soothed her fingers through his honey brown closely cut hair. She petted him for a moment, helping to calm his sobs. “What did Simon find?” She addressed her question to the goggled man. He almost didn't look at her. Fry made a face. From they way Jack was acting and the way Rich was holding him she'd guess that it was bad in a moral sense if not a medical one. Question was, who had done it?
Imam felt sick to his stomach. Just looking at the way Jack clung to Mr. Riddick was enough for him to make some guesses as to what had happened, but that meant someone in this group was capable of great cruelty. “Let us wait until we know if Ali has also fallen prey to events.” Honestly he didn't want to know the details, as horrific as a thing his mind was already painting, envisioning beatings or cuts... but then the next words twisted his worries into a new direction totally, making his gut contort into uncomfortable knots.
Rich looked at Fry, “Enough to threaten to castrate whoever did this.” Imam paled even further, hoping beyond hope that nothing had happened to Ali. He’d assumed that they were safe in the Hanger that the threat was all from without. Now it appeared that someone inside the group was as much of a predator as the natives here. If he were not on Hajj he’d kill the person responsible. If Ali had been soiled in such a fashion he might kill regardless.
Carolyn looked at the holy man, “Imam? Are you OK?”
“No. Captain,” he bit out.
She looked at Riddick, “Well, you were right about the ripping apart thing. But we don’t have evidence of guilt, do we?”
“Never needed it in my case, why do we need it now?” The con rumbled. She winced. Jack clung harder as if he feared being put down. Fry placed a light hand on the kid’s back and rubbed little circles. Slowly the child calmed, realizing that Carolyn and Imam were not going to force Richard to release him until he was ready to be put down.
Ali and Simon walked back out from behind the screen a few moments later. The boy looked surprised that something might have upset his friend so badly, but he had no idea what it could be. “He’s fine, Imam. Sorry about the alarm,” Dr. Tam said. “I just feel better having checked, is all.” The holy man nodded and gathered Ali into his arms, hugging the boy tightly. “Jack, we’re going to have to keep moving.” Jack slowly untangled from Riddick, gaining his feet as the large man put him down. “We will protect you, Jack. It would help to know who to protect you from, but none the less we will protect you.” Simon handed the boy back his pack and the glowing sweater then headed over to repack the screen.
In that touch of Jack’s hand with his own he saw a flash of orange, deep and coppery. But he couldn’t tell if it was an aura or something physical he seeing. He knew though that whatever was associated with that color, whoever was the cause of that vivid copper shade was the cause of the boy’s distress. Simon paused as he folded the sheet and he looked around. Ogilvie had that color of orange in his shirt. But Johns had hair that shade. And he couldn’t see auras. He could describe the color to River he supposed, but his sister was distraught enough as it was. His eyes met the blue ones so like his own, and he felt the connection between them simmering, 'I’m going to do the most horrific things I can to the person that has hurt Jack,' he thought.
There was a ripple of dark amusement, 'If Richard doesn’t beat you to it,' came the flow of mental energy behind it. What else the Doctor might be thinking Simon had no idea, but there was some sense of his being ready to back the group decision on the matter, either to forgive or condemn.
Simon thought that it was very true, considering how protective the ex-ranger was acting toward Jack at the moment. Then again, he didn't much care who actually did the deed, only that it was done. That in mind he smirked, 'As long as I can watch, I won’t mind much. Think of how inventive Rich must be at that sort of thing.'
'You are scaring River,' came the warning note back to him.
He glanced up at the Doctor and his sister and noticed that he can only see the back of her head and her legs from inside the Time Lord’s jacket. 'Sorry, Mei-Mei.'
'Comprehendible, considering the circumstances, that you would apperceive vehemence.' Her face lifted up from the black shirt she was huddled against, and she looked at him with large dark eyes. She'd been drugged when he felt this rage last, and hadn't been so raw being exposed to it.
Simon knew that Big words meant she was hiding her mind from him. Or more precisely from his emotions. The feeling of anger and desire to harm that was so alien to him most times that it often scared him too when he felt it, was what she was trying to avoid. He was being very selfish with his lack of control. He sucked his rage and desire for twisting his medical knowledge into something black and evil back in, sending to her a wave of regret. He never wanted to hurt her with his very human failings. She responded by sending back warmth and love, but remained mentally hidden, the whisper of her mind only a faint muffled buzz. 'I’d feel the same if it were you.'
'I know,' He got a slight smile now. But there was something in her eyes that was dark, similar to what he saw in the Doctor’s eyes. Like she was becoming something else. 'I know because you do feel that way about what was done to me.' At least she accepted his protective nature on that front, seeing it as normal that he'd almost need to cause injury to sooth the rage in his heart.
Sanguine
They were all on high alert. How could they not be? Simon Tam switched his hand lamp for his medical scanner, set to detect the local life-signs at maximum range. Or a bit beyond, thanks to the Doctor’s fiddling. Something was allowing the bioraptors to track them. It was not their echolocation. The constant clicking and popping going on around them was even sweeps like the predators couldn’t see the group but still knew that they were there. And something was driving the hammerheads to attack like sharks on a blood trail. But what?
That was the thing. It was a blood trail. Something was acting to attract the hammerheads. And down here was where the bull males were, the tough mean ones that didn't stop for a bit of light. Rich’s idea that it was a blood scent was a good one, but no injuries had been sustained and left untreated. Simon had made doubly sure of that. Both of the females in the party that might be menstruating were not. Was it Mr. Olgivie’s expensive cologne? Was it the food rations? Had they overlooked something? “Incoming, from the left!” Simon called.
Imam, Suleiman, and the Doctor faced that way, pushing Ali more towards Jack. Something about the boys was acting to make them a target, even with all the light on them and the fact that they were in the most protected spot. The entire group concentrated on protecting the children, even Johns. All but Paris, who as typical tried to keep himself behind the boys, using them as a shield. River lifted her spear into the air to guard their heads, and Suleiman mimicked her. As the native predators came into sight, Fry picked off the lead with a well-placed shot. Johns was right with her, shoulder to shoulder, aiming at the next threat and blowing it into blue mist from the range of the blast. The Time Lord’s sonic screwdriver let off another jolt of sound and the creatures stopped their charge and squealed in pain. Without hesitation the Time Lord ordered, “Go!” He gestured to the right, moving with them in such a way as to block the flank but not stress the fiber optic lead.
They all swerved to the right, falling into formation like a well oiled unit. It was amazing that the could work together in such a fashion, but none of them bothered to question it as they dodged into a passage and followed a weaving path between short tunnels or long narrow pillars, ranks tightened to protect the children in the center of the group. It was becoming clear to all of them that something about Jack and Ali was driving the hammerheads to brave the light again and again ignoring the intense pain and damage the illumination caused. They were all wondering what it was. Was it the size of the children? Or was it because they were weaker then the adults? Was it the difference in their scent, the fact that they had not reach maturity yet? Or was it the art dealer that huddled behind the boys that the predators were after?
The survivors made a left and then centered out in their path toward the Doctor’s ship. It seemed like they might have shaken their determined followers for the moment. “What did you do?” Riddick asked the Doctor as they jogged, faster than a walk but not so fast that the kids couldn't keep up. Now normally he’d ignore the strange twinges about someone’s scent when in danger like this, but he was really very glad that the Doctor was next to him. He was not sure what he’d have done if the man wasn’t.
“Shattered the membranes in their olfactory glands,” the pale fellow said, acting as though the option was just one of many. Rich didn't know much about big words though, or at least he didn't think he did. The frown as he puzzled out the word 'olfactory' was enough to make the Doctor add, “Took away their sense of smell.”
Richard forced his mind away from the spicy sweet leather tinged odor and thought about the behavior he’d observed. “Goin’ after the kids. Heading right for the center of the group every damn time.”
The pale man next to Rich nodded. He noticed that too, and for the most part the predators were targeting Jack. He sent the suggestion to Simon that perhaps the boy needed a medical scan when they stop next. The young surgeon mentally replied that he would do so. Whatever had happened to make Jack the target was worth solving. If the boy was injured why hadn't he spoken up sooner?
Abu and Paris were listening intently. Riddick knew the holy man had reason to listen, as Ali and Jack were best friends now, and the young orphaned boy had rather chosen the Imam as a secondary protector. But the art dealer's attention bothered him. What did the man hope to overhear? Why was he acting so interested now, when he'd more or less threatened Jack time and time again for the boy being too loud or mis-mannered? Was it as simple as the fact that they were all making this run together that made the fellow act like he cared? Or was there something else going on? Imam asked, “But why? We need to figure out why.”
The con knew who he suspected of hurting the kid, based on what he'd witnessed time and time again from Johns. The man had little care for those weaker than himself. Or at least he acted like he did. He'd shot children to flush his prey out. He'd threatened them with violent injury first, cutting them up to make it seem like his quarry had done it. He'd scared the shit out of the surviving children, messing them up for life. So had Johns taken a knife or a belt to Jack? Riddick glanced over his shoulder and said, “Oh… I’m starting to think I know why. Only, I’m not sure what to do about it.” His eyes focused briefly back on Johns. The merc scowled at him, and then jerked his chin to indicate that they were not safe. No... no, they weren't. But was that heightened danger caused by something the redhead had done? Richard was not sure one way or the other. His instinct was to blame Johns, but...
Something tickled at his awareness about Ogilvie. The man was intent on the words and seemed overly concerned considering what he’d fought with Jack about before. Could the art dealer be more than he hinted at? Could he be behind this? Richard would have to watch Jack interact with Paris a bit more to be sure, either way.
Behind the survivors were the biggest, toughest bulls of the bioraptor lot. Both the human/alien group and the natives themselves knew this truth. They ignored the harsh burn, the pain. Battle scars hardened them to the fire. Both knew also that the contest between them was life or death for both parties. One side would live and mate, the other would die. For the red blooded group, the fight for life was the most pressing thing, mating might come later. The pheromones were certainly there. But for the blue blooded ones... killing and mating were one and the same. All the larger bulls needed for uncontested access to as many females as they wanted, all they needed to assure themselves a harem, was some red blood.
It was not as if the two groups were unaware of each other. The red-bloods had ways to tell where the blue-bloods were, and vice versa, for that matter. And both sides had weapons. The soft and sweet red-bloods, this time around, had not only the hated light-fire that burned the natives, but they had ways to bite back with sound and booming devices they carried. The bitter old bulls reacted to the bloodshed as they might over being challenged by some fool youngling, with rage and determined hostility, all sharp teeth and claws. The ability to come at the prey from any angle was forever useful, although thus far the ranks of the oldest bulls had been thinned rather a lot.
And then something odd happened, even though the remaining bulls knew the red-bloods were there still, in the same tunnels they inhabited when the fire was in the sky, they lost their scent in a blaze of pain. What had once led them like a sanguine ribbon wafting in the air became impossible to detect for the older ones, and the younger challengers behind them that could still smell it had to be prevented from getting that red blood and taking over the older bulls' positions within the pack.
The red-bloods moved more and more away from the fighting, unaware that the larger males had a vested interest in keeping the smaller, younger, males from getting close to the prey. They kept moving, scanning, anticipating another attack that didn’t come. Slowly they became aware that perhaps they had shaken off the group following them. Still they did not dare to stop. They were driven by their sense of panic and desire to live. They kept a fast pace, even as one by one the bottles of alcohol burnt out. And yet, they did not stop until they were almost all dead on their feet, stomaches growling for food, mouths dry for moisture. They had been moving through the bioraptor tunnels for over a day and a half now. Finally back on track to reach the TARDIS after numerous side tracks and delays.
Switching back to hand lights as needed, they kept making their way through, slowly climbing now, following the path of the hills. It was the children that forced them to stop, finally. Jack stumbled and Suleiman caught him. A wordless thanks was passed, and the event noticed by the young Doc-Tam. “We need to stop again. We should rest,” Simon called out, noticing that Ali was in about the same shape as Jack. They were in a fairly narrow, low passage now, in the bend of a turn. They decided to stop there, so that they could put the boys against the wall and protect them from two sides.
Jack sank down to the floor gratefully, not caring about where, and luckily not being forced to move right away. He weakly struggled out of his backpack. He hurt, all over. His legs and muscles were sore. His feet ached. His head was throbbing, and he felt the damp in his underclothes that indicated re-injury. So embarrassing. How was he to actually tell anyone that his ass was bleeding? It wasn't his fault. It burned, so bad. But - if he told then there was the threat to his friend hanging over him still. He was too tired to even flinch from the low-level constant pain, to weary to cry.
Ali settled next to his friend and stifled a yawn, “Feels like it’s been days. Don’t think I’ll ever want to stay up past my bedtime again.” Jack murmured an agreement and shifted to get more comfortable, hoping that his friend didn't think it was odd behavior. Ali's too engrossed in rubbing his own feet to notice much about Jack's discomfort. He didn't even think it overly odd when the shaved-headed boy shifted onto his hip and leaned onto his pack. Jack's green eyes caught River's expression of faint horror though. He quickly glanced away, taking in what the adults were doing. Off to the ‘back’ of the group Johns and Fry were reloading weapons and counting ammo. Over at the ‘front’ Simon and the Doctor were huddled with Richard and playing with the medical scanner. Jack had to fight the urge to wiggle in discomfort as those silver eyes glanced at he and Ali. “You Okay, Jack?” the Arabic boy asked.
“No. I’m not,” the green-eyed boy lashed out at his friend without thinking overly much. “We got monsters with razor sharp teeth trying to eat us, Ali. I’m definitely not ‘OK’. I’m scared shitless. And I don’t want to hurt you, but Hassan is dead. How many more of us will die before this is over?”
Ali clapped a hand onto Jack’s shoulder, not noticing his friend flinching from the touch, “God will protect us. You just need faith in that.”
“He sure as shit didn’t protect Hassan, did He?” Jack snapped. Then seeing the pain on the other boy’s face, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean that. I’m sure God had plans for your brother and that was meant to be his place to go, if it makes it any easier for you, Ali. I’m just - tired. And my feet hurt.” Jack sensed the approach of an adult before he knew which one it was, and managed to squash the impulse to rabbit away from presence. He glanced up to see pale skin and dark hair. Simon. He liked the Doc. The young medic was a good person. But the expression on the man's face made him shiver inside. Just like River and the older alien Doctor, this younger fellow had figured it out. Or at least guessed. Jack found himself rocking even before the other man had settled down in front of them.
Simon was all 'Dr. Tam' business-like at the moment. He felt more than saw the evidence of trauma in Jack. The boy had been abused. Perhaps he'd run away from home because of it. Perhaps something else had happened. Jack's shaved scalp revealed scars that looked to be from beatings, but not old ones, necessarily. They might have been a year or two old at the most. Cryo worked wonders for healing scars like those. The other option to explain the scars was a fall, he supposed, but the hints of burns lent credence to the boy being abused. Now his over arching concern was trying to fix this, at least enough to get them all through the situation alive.
He first needed to get Jack alone. Thankfully, Imam and Suleiman were getting ready to pray. Simon crouched down in front of the two children, “Ali, would you please go over to Imam and your brother? I believe they are praying, and you should be as well.” The child nodded and moved without questioning him. Jack bit back a groan and started to get up as well. Simon stopped the youth, “Jack. I need to scan you.”
“No! There ain’t no reason. Leave me alone.”
The Tam scion caught the child before he could flee. Normally he'd not grab a injured scared patient, but this was not in any way normal. He needed to scan the boy, and he needed to do it before they ran into more of the natives. Not to mention that the boy looked pale, too pale, and that frightened the young doctor. What if the child was bleeding, hemorrhaging, badly? What if he needed to do surgery to stop an internal injury? “Jack! Listen here, if you are injured someplace that is not visible I need to treat it.” What if the boy was dying in front of them and they've ignored it too long? “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”
Simon gave Jack a look; “If that is so then I won’t find anything, will I?” Jack slumped back to the floor and pouted. Slowly the medical scanner made its way over the child, with the ebony-haired man getting a deeper frown as he tabulated the information that he was getting. It wasn't that the boy was dying, but rather some of the readings made no sense what-so-ever. The child had two more ribs than normal, but otherwise seemed basically human, proper number of most organs at least, except for the digestive system, which possessed an extra couple of twists that seemed to indicate extreme efficiency in getting every calorie and bit of nutritional value from every bite of food.
Something about this twinged at his awareness. Where had he seen this pattern of dual stomachs and twinned intestines that led into a singular opening for excrement? He scanned Jack's lower torso, noting that one large intestine didn't seem fully attached to the rest of his digestive system, rather Jack had two of them, one of which seemed self contained and not connected to his small intestines at all and the other seemed to have urethra tubes linking it to the bladder, and was rather Cloacal-like, and yet not. It was interesting in that the lad seemed perfectly fine with this opening, and that he functioned without issue with it, and there was no sign of infection or other problems. He knew he'd seen similar before, but where? Likely he'd remember later.
The injury was to the rather more normal looking anal opening and was not that bad, although the cause of it could only be one thing. That pissed the Tam scion off in a major way. The boy was suffering from internal abrasions and some minor tearing, anal fissures, mostly. These were not nearly as serious as he'd feared they were, and with some care he could treat it as long as they could stop the penetration from happening again. Simon latched onto his feelings of relief and pushed the shaking rage away for a moment, “Alright, Jack. I can fix this.” He reached out to touch the child’s chin and lifted his face. The boy did not flinch from him. In fact being told it could be fixed eased away so much fear that the boy launched himself into Simon's arms as he cried. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Who’d believe me?” the boy sobbed out. Jack found himself surrounded by warm arms in a hug that was all comfort.
“I do,” Simon whispered into the child’s ear. “Come on, I’ve got some medications that will solve this problem.” He moved the boy over a bit and carefully set up a privacy screen, feeling grateful to the Doctor for insisting that they take a sheet with them, as he used it and some spears for the division. Once that was done he turned back to the boy, “I’ll need to get a look at how bad it is, Jack.” The Tam scion wanted to know who did this to the boy so he could do similar to them; he was so angered. But Jack didn’t need the cold fury so Simon slammed it aside again. Better to deal with healing the child first, and then allow the Doctor to deal with the revenge side of things.
Shaking now, Jack struggled out of the glowing sweater and lifted his layered shirts to reveal old burns, like someone took a cigar and put it out against his skin. Old but not that old. They, like the scars on the boy's scalp looked to be about a year or so aged. He wondered what happened to Jack in the first place. Had the boy run away from an abuser only to end up being taken advantage of here too? How had they not seen it happening? Simon kept his face neutral even though the boy was not looking at him. Keeping his eyes on the floor Jack dropped his pants to let Simon see the cause of the fresh injury. “It was my fault. Don’t go blamin’ anyone.”
Simon moved over to Jack and took his chin again, “This is not about placing blame, not on you or anyone. Got that?” The green-eyed boy nodded. As a doctor, Simon could put his emotion aside for the time being and deal with this injury first. He pulled out a space blanket and had the boy kneel so he could clean and examine the wounds before trying to apply the proper creams and sealers to stop the blood. He still couldn't figure out how this had happened without no one noticing. Finally he asked the boy, “Where?”
“Bathrooms. I shouldn’t have invited it. It -- ”
Dr Tam placed a light hand on the boy’s thin back, “Never. Jack this is never your fault. If I ask you ‘who’ will you tell me?” At the same time he pulled an antiseptic wipe and began cleaning the area around the wound and carefully checking how bad it was. Jack shook his head and didn’t even flinch as he automatically moved to make it more accessible.
“Back home that would’ve been getting off easy. Not the first time, you know? I didn’t think much of it. It happened and I didn’t get burned, so…”
“Back home? None of your injuries are over a year old. How did this start?” Simon went silent as he worked, carefully dawning a glove and massaging until the boy was comfortable and relaxed with him.
“OK, not home- home. Where I escaped from- home.” Jack was actually enjoying the touch, completely at ease and trusting. “It'll sound crazy, but I was heading home from school and this cyborg-like guy grabbed me off the street and everything sort of spun and shifted...” the boy paused a moment and then plunged into the rest of it, unsure of how the Doc was going to react, “They said that it was to get even with my Da. That he'd done something or hurt someone and made them mad so they were gonna use me to hurt him. But my Da - he's dead, so I just played along until I could slip away. They did a lot stuff, I sorta forgot who I was for a while...”
“I need to apply this topical sealant, internally,” the Doc said quietly.
Jack bit his lip, “Nothing with salicylic acid, right? I'm allergic to those compounds.”
Simon paused and double checked the gel, “It's perfectly safe for you. Thank you for telling me about your allergy, Jack.” The boy nodded, as if such a thing were a given and only hissed slightly when the topical medicine was applied. The follow up shot didn’t even garner a reaction. Once the actual weeping of blood stopped the Tam scion quietly asked, “Are you positive that this has not happened to anyone else? Like Ali, for example?”
That question made the boy stiffen with alarm. Then Jack twisted to look at the older young man with scared green eyes, “Please, no...” It was difficult to say if the boy was reacting to the request for more information or if he had not thought about the risk to his friend. In reality he was terrified that he'd been lied to and that the sick jerk had done this to Ali too, counting on the fact that the boys wouldn't talk to each other about it. Finally he said, “He promised.” Then with a resigned slump, “I - don’t know.”
Dr. Tam provided the boy with clean underclothes and helped him dress, amazed that the child was able to hold himself together under this sort of situation. He'd seen adults who had been attacked in like fashion totally fall apart. The next step was to locate who had the daring to pull this off under their noses. Only Jack knew, and he wasn't sure that the boy was willing to say. Simon had to try, “Who did this, Jack.”
Jack shook his head and started to sob. There was no way he could say as long as Ali was at risk. He just wouldn't. He'd given his word and his athair had always insisted that his word was his bond. Without it he was nothing. Since he had nothing else to give he had to cling to that.
Simon emerged from the screen to find that the adults were all focused on one tunnel or another, and that River, Suleiman, and Ali were watching the white sheet with worry at the quiet sobs still coming out from behind it. He glared at a few backs, only one of which actually deserved it, trying to get his anger back under control. Jack refused to say who had done the deed, breaking into tears instead. Riddick was watching, out of the corner of his eye. Simon glowered at the ex-ranger too, only to his face.
Rich walked over, “Well?”
“It was Jack they were following.” He held up a sealed pouch with the child’s underclothes. “And if I find out who did this to the boy they are going to be in a world of trouble.” He wouldn't mention the odd readings he had gotten from his medical scan, even though he couldn't shake the feeling that he should recognize it from someplace.
The bronze skinned man stared at the packet, letting the Doc's anger soak in to his awareness while he puzzled over everything,“So, Jack’s not a girl.” Riddick seemed slightly dazed, and that was nearly enough to push Simon's suspicion off him. Then there was the fact that the con had been sure that Jack’s cover concealed the fact that there was a girl under the bravado.
The smaller dark-haired man’s jaw clenched as he struggled with the rage again. How long had Riddick been able to smell the tinge of blood on the boy? And why hadn't he said anything sooner? He fixed the silver-eyed man with a glare that could nearly peel paint. The con took half a step back, surprised by the raw anger there. “Jack is male. As male as you or I.” At this Rich nodded, looking humbled. Simon relaxed, feeling that he could trust this man. He might be a killer but he was not a sexual predator. He would not have raped a child. Still he had to ask, to be sure, “Can you swear you never touched the boy?”
There was an undercurrent in the words that made the bronze skinned man shiver. Someone'd been hurting Jack and the kid just sucked up and kept quiet. No wonder he’d settled down and started being all silent and respectful like. But who? He knew who his suspects, but he wasn’t sure it was a wise idea to just blurt them out. He'd never seen the Doc so pissed off. It was like the shadow of fury he had felt in the alien, like given time it could be just as powerful. “I never laid a finger on him to hurt him, Simon. I don’t swing to the young. But --” He glanced over at the merc, “There are others who might.”
Simon stepped up into Riddick's personal space, showing no fear, “If you smelled blood on Jack why didn't you say anything?”
“It's been weeks since I noticed the faint lacing of iron in the boy's scent, OK. I thought --” the ex-ranger shrugged, “I thought Jack was a girl. You're not supposed to notice stuff like that. I was being polite.”
The Doc-kid rubbed his own face, “If you are lying to me I’ll castrate you.”
“If I’m lying, I’ll castrate myself. With a dull, rusty pin.” Richard was trembling now, from the wash of rage that ignited his own. If Johns did this he’ll strangle the blue-eye devil with his own intestines. “Can I see him? Think he’ll want someone there?”
“Yes.” Simon stepped back and allowed the con to pass him, “Try to move him, I need to scan Ali.” The professional detachment was back in place, making the Tam scion seem the mild mannered and the perfectly soothing medical professional.
Richard clenched his fist and rocked on the balls of his feet before nodding. Someone was going to pay. He took a deep breath and stepped behind the makeshift screen, “Why, Jack? Why didn’t you say anything?” The boy didn’t react until he felt the large warm hand on his shoulder that he knew was safe. Then he threw himself at the big muscled man and cried harder. The same question was rattling around in his own brain. Did giving his word to someone that hurt him count? Should he have told someone? If Ali was untouched, now that others knew, could he reveal who had done this? He didn’t know why, but brain kept telling him he couldn't tell. He couldn’t, not yet. Maybe later... but not here and now.
The ex-ranger enfolded the thin child in his arms and carried him out from behind the screen. He noticed two things. One, Jack was light for his size. Two he was cool to the touch much as River was. But was his temperature due to his being chilled or was it natural? He hugged the boy to him and scanned the others. He couldn’t take the boy over to the Doctor, because River was moving over there. Richard didn’t trust Paris or Johns. The only one he did trust was Imam. Telling the holy man that one of his charges might have been abused wasn’t going to be fun. He sure hoped Ali came back with a reading that indicated he'd remained unharmed.
River slunk back to the Doctor, working her way under his leather jacket. She needed to hide in the face of the rage her brother was radiating like sharp spikes of bright sunlight and the golden mini-fireworks of fury and worry from Rich that were like the sparks from metal as it was being forged. Jack’s brown was so dark it was almost black. The contrast hurt. The Time Lord pulled her in, trying to protect both Simon and River at the same time and from each other. She whimpered. He stroked her hair and increased the mental blocks around her mind, cutting off Simon almost totally from his sister. The young man was too focused on his task to currently notice.
Johns watched the drama unfold, trying to tamp down his own sense of panic over it. He had periods of blackouts, from the morphine, and was wondering if he'd done something stupid. But even in a drug induced haze he didn't think he'd hurt anyone. Surely he'd have not been crafty enough to escape notice with how the Doctor watched his every gorram move like a hawk. So if he wasn't the one behind this then who was? The Doctor? Imam? Rich? Ogilvie? Surely if the Tam kid had done it he'd not be so self righteously angered, and besides he'd had plenty of meds to hide it if so. The Doctor was about as predatory as a rabbit, as far as that went. And the Imam too. Would Rich be so trusted by the kid if he'd buggered him? No. The marshal stared at the art dealer. Paris was crouched down in the light looking confused. Something about the man wasn't adding up. Why could he read maps and use survey gear? What was it about the fellow that was suddenly bothering him so much. All that expensive stuff... on a cheap freighter? Surely there was more to it than that. Then again, maybe he was ignoring his own guilt.
Carolyn moved away from Johns and over to Jack and Riddick while Simon escorted Ali off behind the screen, meeting them as they reached Abu. “Rich? Jack?” She put a hand on the boy’s head and noticed that he flinched slightly before almost nuzzling into her hand as she gently soothed her fingers through his honey brown closely cut hair. She petted him for a moment, helping to calm his sobs. “What did Simon find?” She addressed her question to the goggled man. He almost didn't look at her. Fry made a face. From they way Jack was acting and the way Rich was holding him she'd guess that it was bad in a moral sense if not a medical one. Question was, who had done it?
Imam felt sick to his stomach. Just looking at the way Jack clung to Mr. Riddick was enough for him to make some guesses as to what had happened, but that meant someone in this group was capable of great cruelty. “Let us wait until we know if Ali has also fallen prey to events.” Honestly he didn't want to know the details, as horrific as a thing his mind was already painting, envisioning beatings or cuts... but then the next words twisted his worries into a new direction totally, making his gut contort into uncomfortable knots.
Rich looked at Fry, “Enough to threaten to castrate whoever did this.” Imam paled even further, hoping beyond hope that nothing had happened to Ali. He’d assumed that they were safe in the Hanger that the threat was all from without. Now it appeared that someone inside the group was as much of a predator as the natives here. If he were not on Hajj he’d kill the person responsible. If Ali had been soiled in such a fashion he might kill regardless.
Carolyn looked at the holy man, “Imam? Are you OK?”
“No. Captain,” he bit out.
She looked at Riddick, “Well, you were right about the ripping apart thing. But we don’t have evidence of guilt, do we?”
“Never needed it in my case, why do we need it now?” The con rumbled. She winced. Jack clung harder as if he feared being put down. Fry placed a light hand on the kid’s back and rubbed little circles. Slowly the child calmed, realizing that Carolyn and Imam were not going to force Richard to release him until he was ready to be put down.
Ali and Simon walked back out from behind the screen a few moments later. The boy looked surprised that something might have upset his friend so badly, but he had no idea what it could be. “He’s fine, Imam. Sorry about the alarm,” Dr. Tam said. “I just feel better having checked, is all.” The holy man nodded and gathered Ali into his arms, hugging the boy tightly. “Jack, we’re going to have to keep moving.” Jack slowly untangled from Riddick, gaining his feet as the large man put him down. “We will protect you, Jack. It would help to know who to protect you from, but none the less we will protect you.” Simon handed the boy back his pack and the glowing sweater then headed over to repack the screen.
In that touch of Jack’s hand with his own he saw a flash of orange, deep and coppery. But he couldn’t tell if it was an aura or something physical he seeing. He knew though that whatever was associated with that color, whoever was the cause of that vivid copper shade was the cause of the boy’s distress. Simon paused as he folded the sheet and he looked around. Ogilvie had that color of orange in his shirt. But Johns had hair that shade. And he couldn’t see auras. He could describe the color to River he supposed, but his sister was distraught enough as it was. His eyes met the blue ones so like his own, and he felt the connection between them simmering, 'I’m going to do the most horrific things I can to the person that has hurt Jack,' he thought.
There was a ripple of dark amusement, 'If Richard doesn’t beat you to it,' came the flow of mental energy behind it. What else the Doctor might be thinking Simon had no idea, but there was some sense of his being ready to back the group decision on the matter, either to forgive or condemn.
Simon thought that it was very true, considering how protective the ex-ranger was acting toward Jack at the moment. Then again, he didn't much care who actually did the deed, only that it was done. That in mind he smirked, 'As long as I can watch, I won’t mind much. Think of how inventive Rich must be at that sort of thing.'
'You are scaring River,' came the warning note back to him.
He glanced up at the Doctor and his sister and noticed that he can only see the back of her head and her legs from inside the Time Lord’s jacket. 'Sorry, Mei-Mei.'
'Comprehendible, considering the circumstances, that you would apperceive vehemence.' Her face lifted up from the black shirt she was huddled against, and she looked at him with large dark eyes. She'd been drugged when he felt this rage last, and hadn't been so raw being exposed to it.
Simon knew that Big words meant she was hiding her mind from him. Or more precisely from his emotions. The feeling of anger and desire to harm that was so alien to him most times that it often scared him too when he felt it, was what she was trying to avoid. He was being very selfish with his lack of control. He sucked his rage and desire for twisting his medical knowledge into something black and evil back in, sending to her a wave of regret. He never wanted to hurt her with his very human failings. She responded by sending back warmth and love, but remained mentally hidden, the whisper of her mind only a faint muffled buzz. 'I’d feel the same if it were you.'
'I know,' He got a slight smile now. But there was something in her eyes that was dark, similar to what he saw in the Doctor’s eyes. Like she was becoming something else. 'I know because you do feel that way about what was done to me.' At least she accepted his protective nature on that front, seeing it as normal that he'd almost need to cause injury to sooth the rage in his heart.