Log in

No account? Create an account
Previous Entry Share Next Entry
(no subject)


Title: Death and Rebirth 1/1
Summary: Spock's take on the fal tor pann
Disclaimer: it;s not mine

Fal Tor Pann

Because he transferred his Katra to Dr. McCoy before he entered the radiation chamber he dose not remember his death. All that he remembers is darkness, the sensation of an emptiness so vast, so endless it was pulling him down, down into the bottomless silent depths. The darkness smothered him, falling over him like a thick heavy blanket that became heavier as the minutes passed, slowly crushing him. The next thing that he is aware of is waking on Vulcan, and of his mind being empty, completely devoid of any memories or emotions. When the Vulcan male who claimed to be his father explained who he was, what his career was, and how the group of humans had risked their lives to bring him here, he felt nothing. That is, until he walked passed them, for that was when he felt something lightly brush against his mind. The sensation was extremely light and brief, but nevertheless it overflowed with these things called emotions, so strongly in fact that it made him stop and turn, seeking out the one who had touched his mind.

His gaze landed on a slightly older man with curly brown hair and eyes that were a kaleidoscope of color standing directly in front of him. As he started toward him fragments of what seemed to be… memories flew through his mind. He and the man were sitting on the floor, leaning against a wall. He had one arm wrapped around the man's waist while the man tightly gripped his other hand within his. The man's face was buried in his neck, his body trembled faintly against his, and as the moments passed moisture fell upon his skin. He saw the man standing a few feet ahead of him, laughing at something a shorter, thinner man with gray hair had said. As he came up beside the man he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder, and, without thinking about it he briefly placed his hand on the man's lower back, momentarily slipping his hand beneath the green dress uniform to rub the soft, cool skin. The rock gave way underneath him. He had just barely started his descent into the dark, endless depth of the cavern when his arm was seized in a desperate bone crushing grip, halting his fall. He recognized the hand instantly, for alougth it was bruised, the nails chipped, and crimson blood oozed from the deep cuts, it belonged to the man who would never let him go

He did not understand why this man and his comrades would come back for him, for he was only one invisual, and hadn't his father said that this man whom he called Captain Kirk had given up his career, his son, and his Starship for him? His father told him that Captain Kirk had been parparered to give his very Katra if there was even the smallest chance that he could be brought here. Why? Surely Captain Kirk didn't place him above all else, and yet it appeared he did. As he spoke to him a name teased at the edges of his mind, one that seemed very familiar. "Jim" he said, the name suddenly materlizing in his thoughts, "Your name is Jim." The Captain's (Jim?) expression changed, the emotions that he could not name clear in his eyes, but most of all in his voice, which sounded chocked, as if he couldn't breathe as he said "Yes". As if his words had been an unspoken single the people who surrounded them (his friends?) crowded around him, placing their hands upon his clothed arms and shoulders, speaking to him, their combined voices creating a meaningless jumble of sounds that he did not try to separate.

His entire foucus was on the man before him, whose eyes were filling with the same moisture that he remembered, and, he didn't know why, the Gods (Gods?) help him, he didn't, but he ached to hear the man's voice again, to feel his touch, rather then the touch of the people around them, to feel this mans' presence (if it had indeed been him) within his mind as he had a minute before. As if he knew what he desired, Jim reached through the three inches that separated them and slowly, but far too briefly, rubbed two fingers along his. Jim's cool fingers against his caused a steady stream of intense, yet gentle emotions to flow into him. This flow was not quick, in fact it flowed over him slowly, like a thick golden syrup, but it covered him completely, the emotions coating his mind, and, along with the emotions came that same mental touch, only now it was stronger. It seemed to wrap tightly, yet gently around him. The sensation remained him of something called an …. embrace, one that he'd experienced many times before that said, You have me, just as I have you, and I'm never letting you go. He opened his mouth to respond, how exactly, he had no idea, but before he could his father called to him, and as he walked away he promised himself that he would remember exactly who Jim Kirk was to him.