Not Alone Anymore

Chapter 8

Harry fell in and out of consciousness as Johns rushed into the ship, the others close behind, and into the room that held the silent Riddick. It was the biggest space in the ship that all of them could get into without falling over debris.

Imam had grabbed some blankets and laid them on the ground so Johns could lay Harry down. The raven let out a whimper as Imam started taking his bloody and torn shirt, alongside his vest, off. He would hear Johns yelling, but couldn't make out what he was saying, the pain was just too much.

"Get something to put pressure on the wounds!" Johns yelled at the others. It pissed him off that so many adults were standing around uselessly; they needed to get something to stop the bleeding, and fast.

"M... my... b... bag," Harry whispered in pain as he tried to reach for Jack, who was still holding onto it.

"Shh, my son, you must rest," Imam said to him in worry, his hand over the shoulder wound to help stop the bleeding.

"In...in m...my bag, bl... black case, vials inside it.... Need it... please." Harry begged. If he didn't get that vial soon he was going to go into a blood rage, he could feel it rising under the pain and it was beginning to cloud his mind, getting the better of him. He could feel Riddick's eyes on him as he whimpered in pain as they cleaned his shoulder and stomach with the only thing they had available – Paris's alcohol, which would help to cleanse the wounds.

"Jack, give me the bag," Imam ordered softly, holding his clean hand out to the bag in the child's hands. Shakily, Jack gave it to Imam, still looking on in shock at all the blood coming from Harry.

Imam riffled through it. Due to the magic inside it, it appeared to have clothes and small items inside to him and the others in the group, if Harry wasn't in so much pain at that moment in time he would thank his papa for putting that feature into the bag. Imam moved the clothes aside and heard a clink of glass, grabbing a hold of it he pulled out a black leather case. Hoping that was what the young boy wanted, he took it out and looked at Harry. He asked. "In here?"

Harry nodded his head as he was into much pain to speak, he knew if he opened his mouth there was a chance they would see his fangs. He could feel them growing already and he hoped as soon as he took the bloodlust potion they would go back in again.

Opening the case, Imam looked inside and saw a few vials that were red in colour. Taking one of the vials out, Imam opened it and moved over to Harry's side and placed it over young boy's mouth. As Harry let the blood mixed potion run down his throat, he felt some strength come back to him. But he was hungry for more. It looked like he had lost more blood than he thought and it was going to take time for the potion to work. The bloodlust that the vial was meant to quench pulled at him, telling him that a veritable buffet sat right in front of him.

He ignored it; he couldn't afford to show the others what he was, though after that attack he knew that he would have to tell them at some point, just not yet.

With some of his strength recovered from the small amount of condensed blood, he reached for the black case and took it from Imam, going through it he took out a navy blue potion.

He opened it and knocked it back, swallowing all of it before dropping the empty vial and reaching into the case again. This time he took out a second vial that had a murky green liquid inside it. Taking a quick look at the label, he read the black, block letters that told him it was a healing potion for his cuts. With a grimace, he swallowed it as well but not without a shudder. Even after a thousand years, potions still tasted as horrible as ever.

Pain left him as the potions worked to heal his body and take the pain away. As Imam and Johns bandaged his shoulder and stomach, he let his eyes close and fell into a healing sleep. Before the realm of dreams could take him though, he heard a growl not far from him.