[Ben doesn't take any pleasure in her pain, not even just because it's her. He has never exactly been cruel, though he is capable of it. Here, now, she screams and he is immediately sorry, immediately damned, but he doesn't stop, he can't, not now.
If it had been almost anyone but Riddick, his interruption wouldn't have mattered; Ben's other hand is already around the back of Anya's neck, fingertips positionedat the edges of the vertebrae, but he looks up and stops.
Riddick is not who he should be either. Riddick has a knife. Ben hesitates, a strangled sound in his throat, something desperate in his eyes, and the first tear spills over even as his teeth flash in an animal snarl.]
This isn't right! I was good! I was good! [His fingers tighten but he doesn't twist, not yet.] Wasn't I? Wasn't I good?
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If it had been almost anyone but Riddick, his interruption wouldn't have mattered; Ben's other hand is already around the back of Anya's neck, fingertips positionedat the edges of the vertebrae, but he looks up and stops.
Riddick is not who he should be either. Riddick has a knife. Ben hesitates, a strangled sound in his throat, something desperate in his eyes, and the first tear spills over even as his teeth flash in an animal snarl.]
This isn't right! I was good! I was good! [His fingers tighten but he doesn't twist, not yet.] Wasn't I? Wasn't I good?