The book "Q-Squared" has warped my mind. My brain must now create a story involving some aspects of the book, fitted to Enterprise.
I'm unoriginal that way.
Disclaimer: I do not own Enterprise, it's characters, or Star Trek in any way. Anything else in this fic was created by a slightly imbalanced mind that read one too many books...
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No longer with us. Kicked the bucket. Pushing up the daisies. (Could you push up daisies in space?) Chalked out.
She was gone.
He didn't know why it happened. Every time he thought of the events, the memory taunted him. Told him that she was gone and she was never coming back. Ever. She was gone. He couldn't accept the thought. How could he? She couldn't be gone, it simply wasn't possible...
They were mediating for two warring planets. Everything had been going so smoothly...
Slain. Snuffed out. Expired. Lifeless.
What could he have done? Why hadn't it been him instead? Why did she have to die? If he had done something differently, would everything change? Was there some way to find out? Questions battered every corner of his mind, stopping any other thought, any other need.
Someone pulled a gun. No one was really sure who it had been. Suddenly there were shots in all directions...
Gone kaput. Her number had been up. She had met her maker. Gone to the pearly gates.
There had to have been something he could have done. It nagged at him day and night. He hadn't left his quarters in weeks, trying so desperately to figure out what he could do. How he could bring her back? He only had to make a different decision. It was that simple. But if it were so simple, why couldn't he figure out how to fix it?
Someone fired a shot that went awry. He leapt towards her, but was too late. There was a sickening slump as she fell to the floor...
Checked out. Six feet under... (well, not exactly. How could the saying fit to having your body sent off into space?) Was done in. Went extinct.
Maybe he had imagined that slump as she slid to the floor. Which was worse: imagined or heard? He didn't know. He couldn't distinguish the two from each other anymore. Everything seemed to meld together now...
There had to be something he could have done! Just a simple decision made a split second earlier would have saved her. Theories and hypothesis came together in his mind. Somewhere...
She murmured something. It was more of a gasp as she tried to speak her last words, but they had died her lips...just as she died...
Defunct. Dried up (could you dry up in space?). Lost, but not forgotten.
...Somewhere he'd made the right choice. Somewhere he'd reacted a split second earlier and she was alive. Somewhere! But where was that somewhere? Lessons in various theories shot through his mind. For every decision you made, somewhere, somewhere, there was a universe where you made another choice.
He'd hidden in his room the moment after the funeral. Visions of her body being sent into space haunted him. He'd become obsessed with bringing her back...
Perished. Bit the dust. Bought the farm. Croaked.
He had to find the universe where he had saved her. How hard could it be? Just open up the way to another universe...and find her. He didn't care how many universes he had to sort through before he found her again. He'd get her back.
It wasn't even that hard. Just combine a few theories, whip up some handy little device and get going. If he a ruined a universe or two, what did it matter? He'd get her back. It was a simple thought, so it was a simple matter to deal with.
Now energy surged around him. The way to infinite multiverses was at his disposal. But he only had one singular thought in mind as he stepped through the arcs of energy and disappeared. He was going to find her...
Dead. She was dead.
((I'm not sure if the clichés were too much. O.o Review, yes?))