Title: I Want You To Need Me

Author: Mary (SlayerKnight2@aol.com)

Website: none



I Want You To Need Me 8

By Mary



The other man didn't turn to look at him. "Gotta go back."

"You're fucking out of your mind," Johns responded.

"Keen's still in there."

Johns' frowned. "Fuck."

"Stay here." Riddick started walking towards the building entrance.

"The fuck I am." Johns started to follow the serial killer.

Riddick turned and looked at the mercenary. It was quite obvious that Johns was not going to wait outside. "Alright."

Johns, thinking he had won the argument, stepped ahead of Riddick. He was about to step onto the stairs when he heard Riddick speak. "You can't be there."

There was a searing pain in the back of his head and everything went black.


Riddick came to a stop right outside the door to Keen's apartment. The wooden door was ajar. He pulled his shiv out from his left pocket and proceeded to open the door enough to allow him entry into the dark room. He used his other hand to remove his goggles and put them into his pocket. The door opened with a creaking groan that reminded Riddick of a shitty scary movie.

The room was not a mess. Everything was still in it's place almost as if there had been no intrusion. He walked into the living room and stopped short at the sight before him.

Keen was lying on the floor, on his back. There was a pool of blood surrounding his prone form. Gashes littered his chest and face. At first, Riddick thought he was dead. Then he heard the harsh wheezing sounds coming from the fallen man. Riddick ran to his side.

He knelt beside Keen, ignoring the blood that coated his shoes and pants. He could see that everytime Keen breathed, blood poured out of his various chest wounds. It was painfully obvious that the murderer had struck Keen's heart.

There was no saving him now.


Johns groaned as he opened his eyes. His whole head beat in time with his pulse and dizziness threatened any movement with vomiting. He was lying on his side on the first few steps to Keen's building. Confusion set in for a few seconds as he wondered what the hell he was doing here. Then it hit him.

Keen. Killer upstairs. Riddick.

The fucker had hit him, while his back was turned no less. Anger at the betrayal sank in. A portion of their fragile trust had evaporated. Riddick had figuratively stabbed him in the back. Through his haze of anger, he realized that Riddick was still upstairs with the psycho.

Worry warred with anger as he started up the stairs at a dead run with a sinking feeling. And a question that nagged at him: What had Riddick meant by he couldn't be there?


Keen's eyes opened to meet Riddick's gaze. "Hey."

Riddick didn't respond.

Keen frowned, panic starting to set in with the pain. "That bad?"

He nodded.

"'Sokay. The docs can fix anything round here. Just-" Keen coughed and his wheezing got louder as the blood spilled down his chest.

"They can't fix this. It's too late," Riddick responded. He pushed his feelings to the back of his mind. He could not afford emotions now, not if he was going to help his friend.



Johns arrived in front of Keen's doorway. He could see Riddick kneeling next to Keen. Jesus, there was blood everywhere. And nothing was missing or even turned over. Like there wasn't a struggle. No struggle means that Keen had known his assailant and had felt safe around him.

'You can't be there.'

The words made his stomach sink.


"No! No, Riddick! Please." Keen's body tried to squirm away but he had lost so much blood that his body only twitched and shook.

Riddick raised his shiv.

"No! I don't want to die! Please!"

He plunged the shiv with all of his strength into Keen's heart. He stilled, not moving.

Keen's eyes glazed over and he said in choking words." I... trusted... you." With that, Desolation Keen died.

Riddick remained impassive even though emotions raged in him. He felt eyes on him. Without looking up, he flew at the killer, slamming him up against the wall with feral rage. His hands grasped around the man's throat. But he wanted to look into the eyes of the man who had killed his friend.

He was shocked to his very core to see terror-filled ice-blue eyes meet his own.


He pulled his hands away and took a step back from the merc. The other man gasped a little. His hands were by his side, against the wall as if bracing his body for another attack. His eyes were wide and his body was trembling slightly.

Reflexively, Riddick reached out to reassure him but Johns recoiled. The blonde merc turned to look at Keen's body.

"You murdered him."

Riddick frowned at the tone of the other man's voice. "I put him out of his misery."

Johns shook his head. "He only had deep gashes on his face and chest. Nothing lethal."

"There was one in his heart."

"The one you made," Johns said. He pulled the gun that had been tucked into the back of his pants out.

Riddick eyed the weapon pointed at him. "You don't trust me."

"He did and you killed him in cold blood."

"You're wrong," Riddick said.

" I know what I saw."

"You saw wrong, Johns."

The merc looked at him, his eyes filled with sadness. "No. My eyes are the one thing I can always trust. Not my..."

There was an ache inside of Riddick's chest. It was unfamiliar feeling. "You really think I'd hurt you."

Johns touched the back of his head where Riddick had hit him. "You did. Then you tried to kill me."

Anger filled Riddick. "I stopped when I realized it was you."

"When you realized I wasn't the one who had killed Keen. You're looking for someone to blame for his death and I''ll be damned before it's me."

"You're crazy."

Johns nodded. "Yeah. I had forgotten you murdered people for pleasure."

"Johns..." Riddick's voice held a note of warning.

"You're going back to the Slam."

"I ain't going back," Riddick answered.

"You belong there." Johns' voice was cold.

With that, Johns flicked a switch on the wall. The bright lights blinded Riddick. He cried out and moved to cover his eyes. Johns took advantage of the situation and hit Riddick over the head with his gun, hard. The serial killer went down, unconscious


Johns sank to the floor next to him, willing the tears to go away. First Max Dallas then Riddick. Everytime he trusted he got kicked in the ass for it.

Too many battle wounds made it hard to go again. The trust between them had been fragile.

It had been stupid of him to trust Riddick, to care for him. He had given in and almost gotten killed for it. It just went to show him what he had known his whole life. You can only trust yourself. Bitterness filled him.

Tomorrow he would board the Hunter-Gratzner. Tomorrow it would be okay. He went to search for chains that could lock Riddick up. He looked down at Riddick, feeling his chest constrict in pain, but he willed it away. Along with his memories.


Go back to Part 7

Go on to Part 9