Trapped In Black
By: night flame miko
AN: Hey everyone. To those of you who are reading 'An Idle Mind Is The Devil's Playground', sorry that I'm starting another story. I just so loved this idea and it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.
I have to say that some of the credit behind the idea of this goes to Serpent in the Shadows, for their story called 'Worth the Wait'. It is a very well written and interesting story based in Crematoria. It is also a Riddick/Harry one, and it is because of that pairing that this idea even came to me.
And also, here are the warnings/disclaimers before we begin the story.
Warning: This is going to be a slash fic. In other words, it is going to be a boyxboy story. So don't come to me if you ignore this warning, and then get annoyed that you read it and found out too late that it was going to be a slash story.
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
In any case, thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!
Harry's eyes snapped open, his mind on high alert in seconds despite the forceful sleep caused by the cryo-chambers they rested in on the transport ship. He could see the wide eyes of the passengers around him as they woke up to the shuddering and screeching ship. Determined to find out what was going on, he went to open the door only to have a warning sign flash across the glass, alerting him and the other passengers that until they had landed, they would not be allowed to exit the cryo-chambers.
Gritting his teeth he breathed deeply once before resting back against the cushioned wall, hating the feeling of being caged. If it was one thing that had lasted through his long, long life, it was the anger he felt at being trapped; a side effect of being kept prisoner by Voldemort for 3 and a half months. Ignoring his urge to lash out with magic he simply set his feet and determined to ride out what was obviously going to be a crash landing. He just hoped it wouldn't hurt that bad, considering the last crash landing he was in, that was unlikely.
Examining the people around him with half hooded eyes, he examined their red lit faces, the colour highlighting their terror and overwhelming fear. He couldn't understand it. To them the 'worst' that could happen would be for them to die, and he didn't view death as something to be feared, but rather a gift. A way to rest after living their lives. Although admittedly his life had been much, much longer then any of these peoples' and he would probably be biased considering he had viewed all his loved ones die over the years.
He would very much like to see them again.
Dragged out of his thoughts by screeching metal he opened his eyes again, having apparently closed them whilst in thought, and watched what he could through the glass of his temporary prison. He had to admit to himself that trapping the passengers in the cryo-chambers was probably the best move, considering the chambers were padded and would provide the best protection in the event of a crash.
His feet automatically adjusted to the dangerously tilting ship, keeping him level even as what he could determine as the forward part of the ship tilted too far upwards, dragged down by the weight of the back. Cocking his head to the side he considered what this meant. The captain would have to loose the weight, and the only way to do that would be to purge the ship of some of its compartments. Compartments which contained the passengers. The only 'comforting' thought he could come up with was that the compartment he was in was the third from the back. Hopefully the loss of the ones before it would allow the front to lower enough to land in the safest manner.
Just as he predicted he felt the ship suddenly change angle and knew that one of the compartments had been released. But even then, he knew it wasn't enough. And as he looked at the crying and praying passengers all around him, he finally decided to do something about this. Releasing his magic he felt it rush out of him, like water flowing through a broken damn. Slowly it slid through the invisible holes in the ship, out to encompass the ship, slowly he used his magic to force the ships front down. Unfortunately he wasn't quick enough and he felt it as the compartment after theirs was released, his magic unable to hold onto it as it tumbled away.
Sweat formed on his brow as he now used the extra magic to align the rest of the ship, gritting his teeth when he felt the captain reaching for the remaining purge lever. He felt her grip the lever and then pause as she spoke with someone, unable to hear the words he got the gist of it when she hesitated, long enough for the other person to run back and jam something in the doorway so she would be unable to release the final compartment, even as she wrenched the lever down as far as it would go before it jammed.
Gritting his teeth he kept the ship as aligned as possible, feeling the captain kicking frantically at another lever his heart stopped briefly when it finally released, only to restart when flaps along the ship opened out, taking some stress off of his magic as it automatically aligned itself.
Finally they exited the atmosphere and this is when his problems finally began, as something within the air immediately began sucking his magic away, stealing every bit of it that was not inside his body. Wrenching as much back as possible he allowed himself to pray for those around him, hoping for their sakes that they survived the crash even as the shock of loosing more than a quarter of his magic in one go pushed his mind into darkness.
He woke up to the sounds of frantic movement and screaming. Pushing the nightmares (memories) to the back of his mind he tried to reorganise his thoughts. Remembering the last thing to happen, he pushed a tendril of magic out of his core and finally his body only to have it instantly sucked away again. By what, he had no idea, but he wasn't going to let it steal any more of his magic.
Looking around himself he noticed that miraculously his cryo-chamber had survived the crash in almost perfect condition. The only thing being that with no power it wouldn't open. Normally without magic this would be a problem, but he had other tricks up his sleeve, literally.
Pushing magic into the twin metal bands around his wrists he felt it as the intricate spells within them activated and reformed his hands beyond the metal into blades. Lifting those blades he slammed them into the glass, shattering it and allowing him to drop into the space beyond. The screaming was easier to hear, now that he was out of the cryo-chamber, so allowing his hands to reform he walked towards its location.
Moving through the trashed ship he entered the room beyond, his eyes immediately noticing the destroyed and empty cryo-chamber that was supposed to contain the prisoner this ship was also transporting. Mentally shaking his head at the guys luck he continued, pausing only when the screams finally died.
Continuing he came into the next room, the last one before the piloting chamber. He identified this room as the area of the screaming, mainly because of the now dead man lying on the ground with a piece of metal jutting out of his chest. Leaning over the dead man- crying- was a women with short blonde hair dressed in the crews uniform for this ship.
Watching the scene he sighed almost inaudibly. Whilst he couldn't understand fearing death, he could more than understand the pain of loosing a friend or loved one to its embrace. This was what prompted him to walk forward and lay a hand on her shoulder.
She reacted immediately, spinning around her other arm pulled back to punch. He simply raised a brow and she let out a quivering breath before lowering her hand slightly, though not completely.
"Who are you?" Letting his hand drop from its still raised position he tilted his head slightly, taking in the fact that this was the women who had nearly dropped his compartment and killed (nearly) everyone in it. Looking down he identified the man who had saved his fellow passengers lives before looking back into her cautious eyes.
"I am Harry J. Potter-Black…and you are?"
She slowly lowered her raised hand, her eyes shifting around the room, searching for something. For what, he had no idea.
"I'm Carolyn Fry. One of the survivors. If you're looking for everyone else, they should be exploring outside."
Recognising the dismissal as well as the need to be alone to mourn a while longer, he simply nodded and swept out of the room, his invisibility cloak swirled around him as he moved. Noticing the swishing silver fabric he realised it must have reappeared on him after he passed out in the cryo-chamber.
That was the problem with the Hallows. If you have them with you long enough, they could apparently learn to recognise the magic of their owner and make their way back to him. Considering how long he had had them, they now simply re-appeared back on him, no matter how far he had travelled or how much he wished they wouldn't.
Shaking his head at the futility of it all he stepped out of a hole in the side of the ship and into sunlight. Almost immediately he felt overheated, the sun reflecting off the desert landscape around him causing the heat to double noticeably. Realising that his clothes were impractical he took off his cloak, carelessly dropping it to the ground before pulling off his black long sleeved shirt and revealing the black vest underneath it, dropping the shirt on top of his cloak. Considering his long black pants he realised that without magic he couldn't do much about them, yet. Looking at the cloak he considered leaving it where it was (he had no need to worry about someone taking it, it would simply come back) but realised it would provide some much needed shade and re-donned it.
Looking around he took in the 4 Muslim priests praying in the distance, their words not quite reaching him. Over to the side were the two Australian prospectors, deep in conversation about something, watching them he noticed that they were quickly devolving into an argument. Turning his attention to the surrounding area he wondered where the others were, there should be at least 3 other people, including the captain which Miss. Fry obviously wasn't. And the convict was another that was missing, though whether that was a good thing or a bad thing was yet to be seen.
Moving around what remained of the ship he noticed another large chunk of it not too far away and started walking in that direction, wondering if that was where he was going to find the missing passengers.
Or anything potentially useful to survive in what was looking like a very uninhabitable planet.
Entering through the gaping hole where the hull used to be attached to the rest of ship he let his eyes readjust to the darkness, hearing people talking he stepping into the next room just as two men tipped over a box and spilled out what looked like a young boy.
Quirking his eyebrow Harry smirked. Apparently they had a stowaway. His smirk turned into a smile at the stowaway's cheeky question of, "So we've landed then?" The two men shared a look and one of them was about to say something, probably along the lines of 'What are you doing here?' which Harry thought would be an unbelievably stupid question as the answer was quite obvious. So he stepped forward and replied first,
"Yes we have landed."
Cocking his head to the side he appraised the boy, there was something about him that caught his attention and he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the fact that he was a stowaway? Not many people had the guts to do that anymore due to the 27 pieces of equipment/technology that were used to find stowaways, and the hefty fine placed on them.
"And who are you?"
This question was directed at him by the man with very short hair and what looked like a police uniform. The other more fancily dressed man had returned to collecting what looked like liqueur bottles, and judging by his haste and determination to find them all they probably belonged to him.
"My name is Harry J. Potter-Black, and you are?"
The man blinked at his rather interesting name, before replying in kind,
"I'm William J. Johns, and this is Paris P. Ogleby."
Harry appreciated the second introduction, it was quite obvious from Mr. Ogleby's determination that he was too distracted to care about introductions.
Turning to the stowaway Harry raised a brow, silently asking for the boys' name. When the child hesitated a second before answering, Harry's second eyebrow joined the first. Something was going on here, and he would very much like to know what.
"M' name's Jack."
Harry gave a 'hmm', before turning his attention to helping Mr. Ogleby find his liqueur. As he started to rummage through the large boxes throughout the area, he was distracted from what he was doing by a loud gasp behind him. Turning to look at Jack he raised a brow at the boys now pale face, only to look down and finally notice the jagged piece of metal sticking out of the back of his leg. Blinking he wondered how he had missed that, it wasn't like it was a small piece of metal. He was pulled away from his thoughts when Jack dropped into a crouch beside him, reaching out a shaking hand to carefully touch the metal.
"Your…leg." Looking up at Harry, Jack almost whispered, "Doesn't it hurt?"
Tipping his head to the side, he noticed that the two other men were also looking at him with various forms of horror and morbid curiosity on their faces.
Shrugging he replied, "I suppose so. I don't know how I missed that. I must still be in shock from the crash."
They shot him a disbelieving look but promptly sat him down to look at his mutilated leg. He found he was mildly annoyed with himself, mainly because if he had noticed that his leg was hurt before these people had, then he could have used his magic to heal himself in minutes. Now he had to conceal that fact. Mr. Johns sat beside him and warned him this was going to hurt as Mr. Ogleby started ripping apart a sheet from one of the boxes, obviously to use as bandages. Watching as Johns gripped the metal he grit his teeth and let out a grunt as the metal was quickly pulled from his leg. Attempting to hold back his magic he felt sweat start to form on his brow as some cloth was put over the wound and then some pieces of sheet wrapped tightly around everything.
He held back his magic a few moments longer so that the bandages were wet with a decent amount of blood before he let it get to healing him. Hopefully after this he could just wrap his own 'wound' so that no one could find out it was already healed.
Unfortunately he just knew that he was going to be treated like he was made of glass because of this. Sighing he was forced to watch as Mr. Ogleby and Johns got back to searching for some liqueur, no doubt thinking that they could pour some on the wound to disinfect it. This was going to be a long day. At least he had found 2 of the missing passengers, just a captain and a convict to go.
It seemed that he needn't have worried about either the captain or the convict, because later in the day it was revealed by the Muslim-known as Imam-that the captain had died sometime during the crash. Also, Mr. Johns had apparently gone searching for the convict after helping Mr. Ogleby find his liqueur and had apparently found him and managed to knock him out.
A few things were revealed in that time. Such as the fact that by long day, he hadn't realised that meant a never ending day; as apparently this planet had three suns, which lit the planet at all times. Not only that but he had to pour alcohol over his bandages, just as he predicted and now had to limp everywhere as well as have wet and itchy bandages. But he supposed it was better then being chained as their prisoner once again was.
The prisoner, otherwise known as Riddick, was now manacled to one of the few upright beams within the ship that had survived the crash. He had to admit that the convict interested him, he had heard of some of his deeds from Mr. Johns, the policeman who had captured him (and about that he was doubtful, policemen didn't go after criminals unless it was personal, it was only Mercenaries who tracked down escaped convicts for the prices on their heads. Harry would just have to wait and see how things played out); and apparently Mr. Riddick was quite the dangerous man.
He could also see that he wasn't the only one interested in the criminal, though probably for different reasons. The other person who seemed quite determined to find out as much about Riddick as possible was Jack. Harry could understand the boys need to find out about someone who seemed so dangerous; stowaways, especially when children only became one when they needed to escape the place they were at to survive. For someone like that, Riddick would be the ultimate role model, someone who had survived and was even feared by nearly everyone on the ship just from stories told about his past deeds. It would only be a matter of time before Jack snuck off to go see what Riddick was like in person.
Considering that Harry decided to go have a look himself. He had found that with enough experience in life you could learn to label all different kinds of people simply by how they look or even acted in situations. He knew that if he found a screaming, raging prisoner promising revenge; then the guy wasn't that dangerous, sure he might have killed before but that would be more from luck than anything else. Where as if he found a silent one, then he would know the guy was most likely dangerous (at least to his fellow passengers); as it was always the silent ones that knew what they had to do to survive.
Moving around the ship he kept up his limp, just in case someone was watching. You never knew who could be around the next bend, and it was always better to be safe rather than sorry. So it was he limped through the room he had first met Miss. Fry in, absently noticing that the body was no longer on the floor. Realising he wasn't hearing any sounds at all he lightened his steps automatically, despite the limp, not wanting to attract any attention to himself.
He wanted to see, not be seen.
Coming to one of the most damaged areas of the ship he spotted one lone beam towards the back of the room that was almost joined to the roof, a split near the very top dissected the beam. But it was too high for any normal prisoner to make use of, so he didn't worry.
Taking the long way round, the prisoner finally came into sight. For the first time in a long time Harry felt his eyes widen as his breath hitched, but not from fear. No. There was something about this man that he could almost see, just from the way Riddick was chained to the floor with the bit-gag in his mouth, feet chained to the floor and eyes blindfolded. It didn't seem to matter that all of these things should reassure anyone that said man was under control, it just seemed to add to the danger surrounding him, building on Riddick's presence until the man seemed twice as dangerous and just as powerful as any wild animal.
Harry hated being caged and he got the feeling that he wasn't the only one. But where Harry would smash his way out of any place that tried to cage him, he got the feeling that Riddick would do the opposite. He would wait; silent and unassuming until the last moment where suddenly he would take any little opportunity afforded him and use it to escape.
And following Riddicks' gaze through the hole in the blindfold, he realised that the dissected beam the man was chained to was more than a small opportunity, and the conveniently hanging wire which, if used properly could become hot enough to cut through the chains on his feet were Lady Luck's way of saying 'Go on Riddick. Do it if you're willing to pay the price.'
And there was a price, because even as he watched, Riddick had to force his arms up over his head, dislocating them in the process before re-locating them when bringing them through the cut off beam. He knew from experience that dislocating one's arm is incredibly painful, even more so when one does it to oneself. And yet Riddick didn't allow even a small sound to escape despite being gagged. And after all that, he couldn't allow himself to relax, Riddick had to quickly jump before loosing his balance and grab the handing wire, bringing it down with him, or else have wasted the whole opportunity.
Harry could only nod his head to the absolute determination of this man to escape. It was one thing he definitely understood. When he had been captured by Voldemort, it had either been escape, be tortured or die.
And Harry had always had a problem with dying.
Watching as Riddick cut through the chains, his whole body on high alert for if anyone arrived. Harry refused to move a muscle. He wasn't going to alert anyone to Riddick's escape. As far as he was concerned if Mr. Johns, who had apparently been hunting Riddick down for far too long and was able to make a mistake like this, then Riddick deserved to escape.
Besides, Harry hadn't decided to give everyone his protection simply because he attempted to save them during the crash. In the end it hadn't even been his efforts that had saved them, but rather a dead mans will to sacrifice himself for the others, one whose name he didn't even know.
He watched as Riddick finally stood up, removing the blindfold and the bit-gag, before placing some goggles around his eyes. Harry looked on as Riddick turned and silently made his way towards one of the exits, but just before he exited through the doorway Riddick looked over his shoulder, his masked eyes looking directly at where Harry stood in the shadows. Harry regarded the man before he walked out into the open right were Riddick had been hanging a moment earlier.
"There it is." Harry mumbled to himself as he bent over to pick up his cane. "I wondered where you were." He stated before turning and leaving, completely ignoring Riddicks intimidating figure framed by the light of doorway.
Riddick cocked his head to the side slightly, reminiscent of a curious animal, before he turned and was gone.
Harry grinned as he allowed himself to lean against his cane, as if his leg was still hurt. Moving out of the ship through the ripped apart hull he limped into the sunlight, wondering whether any of them were going to see Riddick again.
So what does everyone think? I know there are quite a few places that can be questioned, but all in good time, everything will be revealed.
This chapter is more to set up Harry's personality, because as I'm sure some of you have guessed, he is Immortal. You'll find out later how and why, although I have no doubt that some of you will get that too :P
I have to say I'm thoroughly enjoying writing this. You can tell because this chapter wasn't supposed to be nearly as long as this and I can't promise other chapters will be this long either. They will merely be as long as they need to be for me to get down what I want.
In any case I would love to hear from everyone; be it praise or criticism. Though I have to say I don't really appreciate flames, so just to warn you, please don't.
That's all for now. Hope you enjoyed and till next time.
-night flame miko