Disclaimer: Some Borg-like entities known as Paramount and Viacom own Spock, Kirk, and McCoy. I don't know if they own Spock's katra. Too bad I'm afraid to test this, so I'm only going to borrow it for a while. I promise to put it all back, and not exchange real money for it. Damn.
So all copyrights that belong to them, belong to them, and the rest belong to Starshadow Productions, Ltd., which is me. Copyright November, 2005 on any bits that aren't reserved for Paramount, etc.
Beta: Tony Pearson. All mistakes mine.
On Having Died
K/S by Starshadow
At first I felt only darkness. I could not move, and did not seem to be breathing. Gradually I became aware of being enclosed, enfolded--but in what,I could not say. Then memory surfaced. My hand, on his face. "Remember". I have memory of what transpired afterwards, but from another perspective. I see my--his?-- body slump over. I see but do not feel the standing up, the approach to the shielded transparency. I see as I--McCoy?-- holds back my--his?-- beloved. I see the hand, mottled with leaking emerald fluid and I feel the thought--alien, alien, yet somehow loved--from the one holding him back. I see and hear the plea as they try to touch through the tranparency, and bid one another goodbye. I see myself--for I know now what has happened,in retrospect---bid my t'hy'la to not grieve.
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I am inside McCoy's mind. Suddenly, I'm aware of my body, but I know it is only a memory of that which I was. I am cradled in comfort,and I see the compartments of this beloved friend's mind. I see him as he sees himself, and I know that he is not aware of me at all. Perhaps I should not have placed this essence of myself inside him,but he was the only one near me.
It has been weeks, objective time, though I feel as though I've been a part of this mind for many years. I've carved out a niche too in which to reside.I try not to intrude. Human minds are disorganized, though, and this makes it difficult. Stray thoughts intrude. He is still not aware of me but seems to have picked up some of my personality traits in life. How peculiar. Though I learned the techniques of placing my katra after undergoing the kah'swahn, as all of our kind do, it was always assumed that it would be given to another Vulcan, until I met my bondmate. Perhaps I should have told him, but the habit of keeping
quiet about Vulcan's secrets is deeply ingrained. And in my hubris, I believed he would die before I would. Pride is a fascinating trait to find in myself. Perhaps if my katra survives to get to the Hall of Ancients, I shall spend a few centuries examining it and its place in me. I no longer feel shame at the emotions I bore in life. Death has its privilages--and what is, is.
But another emotion intrudes. Worry? Not for myself. Perhaps I will have to dissolve this link myself, and let my katra shred on the winds. I had thought that my father would have found me by now. Perhaps he has gone to my bondmate and found him lacking my essence.Logically, would he look elsewhere, or assume I was lost for ever? I do not have much time. McCoy's thoughts are becoming contaminated with mine. I do not wish to intrude. No Vulcan would. But the body I seem to be in is only an illusion, an artiface, to work with until I am used to my physical death. And my essence does not reside wholly in it--but in all the neurons in my old friend's brain. I cannot avoid seeing memories he would not wish to share with another. That I regret. I cannot give him the privacy he would wish for--but it works
both ways. He cannot grant me mine, either. And we are so unalike in so many ways. Our affection for one another in life made no difficulty of this. But in death--I may drive him to madness. That I will not allow.
He knows! My bondmate knows! I felt his touch today. What he plans is madness. But it is so like Jim. I felt his thoughts for a moment as he touched McCoy's hand today. I don't know if he was aware of mine. He did not speak of it. And I am having to pull back within myself to keep McCoy sane. He thinks my physical body may have been regenerated by the Genesis planet. And further, somewhere, somehow, he has learned of the Fal Tor Pan, the ceremony to unite katra and body again. It's
only legend. It's madness. Yet--my impossibly human lover--he plans to try. I know I should shred myself. It's an impossible dream. But I cannot. Am I so weak that I would allow these beloved humans to risk their all for one person? Apparently. I will stay, for now. Perhaps it will be truly impossible. At the very least, I should be able to be placed where I should be, in the Hall of Ancients. But perhaps---I allow a shiver--perhaps soon I will be able to touch my beloved again.
Because of this, and because McCoy seems stronger, now that he is aware he carries me, on some level, I will stay. I will risk it. One last touch will be enough.
Then I could go, content into the night.