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Resurrection
Alhague slipped his human shell's head out of the hospital room he had been brought to and into the cold hall. The tears on a human woman and little girl's faces tore into him like a physical pain. He hoped against hope that his friend was better than he feared.
He slipped the rest of his human form out into the cold, sterile hall and then into Tom Beck's hospital room. His human friend had machines breathing for him, not unlike, Alhague noted absently, how he manipulated the lungs of the human shell he wore. He pressed his shell's hand to Tom's diaphragm, extending his senses to assess his friend's health. Tom was dying, and would be dead very soon; the bullets he had taken in trying to stop Alhague's quarry were leaching the life out of him.
Sorrow nearly crushed Alhague. Not for himself (even though the thought of a fresh loss hit him like a hammer blow) but for Tom's little girl, Juliet, who would grow up without a father; for Tom's wife, who would be left alone (a pain he knew intensely); for Tom, who would not grow old with his wife or experience his daughter growing up - the thought of them experiencing the pain he himself had experienced, tore at the core of himself. Instead of crushing him, the pain formed something adamantine; a cross between love and resolve that some on Earth called sacrifice. He was not going to lose another partner and he would not let another family be broken.
There was a reason even beyond ethical ones he had taken the dead shell of a human when he had come to earth, and why his quarry had always efficiently killed those whose body he took; to inhabit a body with a consciousness still in it was to be subsumed into that consciousness and be bound for the rest of that person's days to that body, and that body only. It would mean the end of autonomy and individuality, but to do so would save Tom's life and Tom's family. Tom had given up his life for Alhague, and Alhague would give his life for Tom.
Tom flatlined, the machine monitoring him giving out an unending flat beep. Alhague panicked for a brief second, praying he had enough time to save Tom. He quickly flipped off the switch, hoping that might slow the alert and give him a precious few seconds more before the doctors came bursting in.
Tom's consciousness was slipping away. Even so, this was not something to rush. Alhague, with gentle reverence, used his shell's hands to prize open Tom's mouth. With that same gentle reverence, Alhague poured himself out of his current shell and into Tom Beck's body, grasping at, surrounding, and keeping Tom's consciousness from slipping away. There was a burst of thanks from Tom that was like a light brighter and warmer than Alhague's own form, and Alhague smiled back, and the two souls embraced. In a communication that was faster than light and more effective than words, Alhague explained what had to happen and what the consequences would be. He, Alhague, could keep them alive and repair the damage to Tom's body until the body could repair itself. Tom would not die, not now and not of the gunshot wound that now sucked out his life, anyway. But Alhague would die - now, in a sense, by allowing himself to be subsumed into Tom, and yet not now, not even for a long time by human standards (for Alhague's presence and capabilities would prolong their gestalt for decades), but by his own people's standards his lifespan was brought down to a dog's years as he melded with Tom.
Tom refused, unwilling to let his friend lay down his life like that. He started slipping from Alhague's grasp. Alhague held on, showing Tom his loss, his love, his deep desire to give Tom the life and happiness that had been stolen from Alhague by the same being that was stealing Tom's. Against this barrage, Tom relented.
As the fibers of their spirits started combining into a whole - Tom and Alhague becoming a 'they' on the way to a single 'he' - Alhague did not feel saddened or as though he were losing something. On the contrary, he felt happier than he'd been since his wife, child, and partner were murdered. In giving his life, he gained. He was no longer alone; neither would any longer be alone. Tom's family was becoming his, and Alhague increased his love for them with his own. Tom shouldered Alhague's sorrow, and Alhague showed him new heights of joy that a human was incapable of experiencing. This was not death; this was resurrection.