A/N: So, you know that space of time between being awake and dreaming…? That's when the idea for this came about. This takes place during the season seven episode "Afterimage." Thank you, KoraM852, for the support and ready discussion of all things Star Trek. Thank you, Gameson221b, for the constant encouragement you provide. You are such a wonderful friend!
Warning: contains sexual content.
Disclaimer: All rights reserved by Paramount Pictures. All story and writing credits for the scripts are owed to their respective creators/writers.
Palinopsia
Episode Supplement for Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Season Seven "Afterimage"
How, how are we off on a tangent again?
Oh, we say what we say, and the poison is breaking our skin
Blame, what's to blame? It's an argument no one can win
'Cause at best we don't know, and it's wearing us thin
-MUTEMATH, "Stare At The Sun"
Ezri opened her eyes to the dim light of her quarters. She was alone. She thought she was alone, at least.
But, she didn't remember the last ten steps to her quarters after taking dinner at the Replimat. She had eaten alone. Most of the crew considered her less than her counterpart and hadn't taken the time to properly meet her.
She understood, really she did. It was awkward for her as well... to return... rather to come in the first place. This had been Jadzia's home. Not Ezri's.
The displaced identity sent another pang of hurt through her. She swallowed, letting the darkness shadow her.
She shifted, the hard Cardassian bunk stiff against her back. Her bare back.
She didn't remember undressing either...
She sat up, holding the lightweight bedcovers to her torso.
A white flash of memory surrounded her. Two naked bodies laying together, faces close but not touching, arms entwined, breaths fast and beating hearts...
"Ezri."
It was a voice she recognized, but only from a dream...it came from the memories of the previous lives of the Dax symbiont.
She couldn't give it a name. Why had it said her name, if the interaction had been with a previous host?
She slipped from the bed, pulling the sheets with her. She no longer trusted that she was alone in her quarters.
"Computer, raise lighting two levels."
The dimness brightened, illuminating the sparse furniture of her single cabin.
She was an ensign, and not a formal member of the station crew. Until she made that decision, the only quarters they had to offer was this small room. And that was fine.
She may not be staying.
Ezri moved to the tiny washroom at the back of the cabin, little more than an alcove. It had a shower and facilities, more than Dax had in other experiences.
She primed the shower and stripped off the sheet before stepping into a tepid spray. She sighed as the water ran over her skin, a welcome relief for the stress at her shoulders.
Her hips felt tight, sore... as if...
She glanced at her body, her eyes widening to find dull bruises...
She didn't remember being physical...
She blinked. The bruises faded, seeming to disappear before her eyes.
Maybe she was going crazy. Joining had never been on her list of priorities. And now that it was done...
She leaned against the wall of the shower and let tears fall, mixing with the spray at her face. She felt her life dissipate...the dreams she had of being ship's counselor.
Who would trust her to help with their emotional or personal crises? Especially when she had nine lives contending for dominance over her heart and mind in a given moment. Whose memories would prevail? Certainly not her own...
Weak-spirited, her father had said.
The flash of white returned, those two bodies intertwined... a nipping tongue, a caress of mouth to her breast.
She gasped, slipping from the water to the cold air of the washroom.
"We are one."
The voice came clearly to mind. But these were not her memories.
She trembled, fear of being trapped in such a dream flooding her.
With these thoughts, how was she to tell reality from these impressions of memory?
She pulled the towel from the rack on the wall, wrapping in the thick terry. Her hair dripped on her shoulders... wet, irregular in timing, and chaotic.
Ezri cried out in sleep.
Doctor Bashir checked the displayed readout of her vitals. Stable. Normal rhythms of brain waves, respiration, and pulse.
But he could not judge her emotional state. She was struggling.
She felt the pressure, the fullness of each movement... and responded, her hands grasping for purchase at his skin. Their combined sweat made the feat difficult.
She cried out... frustration, pleasure, dissatisfaction and such... satisfaction...
Fingernails dragged into his skin, he groaned, arching and pressing deeper.
"Jadzia..."
Worf growled low, barely saying the name.
His energy pooled in her, a tide sweeping through her. She floated away on it.
His thick arms wrapped around her gently, and they lay together.
She breathed into his neck, his heated skin smooth on her cheek. He lifted her face, his lips touching softly at hers.
Ezri woke in the infirmary. The doctor stood over her.
"Are you alright?"
His compassion was too much for her. "No, I'm not alright." Angry tears slipped through her closed lids.
"You were dreaming, Ezri. You seemed to be in a lot of pain..." The doctor stepped back. "Is there... Can I help in some way?"
"Tell me how I got here." She wiped at her face.
"You collapsed. Just outside Garak's tailor shop." He faced away from her, resetting the display computer.
"You were her doctor... Jadzia's... Doctor Bashir, you knew, didn't you?"
He swallowed. "I don't know what you're..."
"The therapies worked... We were... She was..."
Doctor Bashir turned around. "I haven't said anything. Worf doesn't even know." He rubbed his fingers over his eyes. "Somehow, I thought that would make her death harder on him... knowing that..."
"Thank you, Julian."
Her voice did not sound like her own. She sounded...
Doctor Bashir lowered his hand. "Jadzia?"
"Not all of her. But she is a part of me. And for her, I should thank you..." Ezri sat up on the medical bed, turning to hang her feet over the side. "It means a lot... to me, too... that you made that effort to ease her passing on both of them."
He stared at her for a moment. "You should really rest more, Ezri." He moved to insist she lay down again.
"I need to go, Doctor. Thank you. But it seems the previous host has some unresolved matters that the symbiont wishes to settle. I understand that much about myself."
A/N: Palinopsia (Greek: palin for "again" and opsia for "seeing") is a visual disturbance defined as the persistent or recurrence of a visual image after the stimulus has been removed. –Wikipedia