Limbo

Saint Vincent de Paul Hospital, Paris, France, 2291.298, 0902 hours. She kept watch over her unconscious boy just as she had for the last 6 days…and just as he had for the last 6 days Se'tak didn't stir. Nyota prayed to every deity she could think of for a miracle but none were forthcoming.

Readjusting her seat she stood over him and tenderly wiped away a little line of drool threading it's way down the side of his cheek. As she did so a sudden thought gave her pause. Was this his life now? Day after day lying in bed, breathing with the aid of a machine, completely unaware of the world around him?

Her lively little boy?

With a frown she abruptly sat back down and squeezed his hand hard. Would it come to that? The doctors tried to talk to her about the next step should he never wake up but she soundly informed them she didn't want to hear it. As ridiculous and illogical as it was she knew she'd never take him off that machine, despite the fact that he would never know a life outside the four walls of this room ever again. Nyota wasn't prepared to live in a world without Se'tak, even if it meant she preceded him in death by mere minutes.

Selas and T'Alora were not in complete agreement with her on the matter. Spock's opinions, whatever they were, didn't carry any weight with her either.

Nyota heaved a great sigh. If only she was the one lying in that bed everything would be different...

Se'tak's hand suddenly seized hers in a forceful grip causing her to laugh in sweet relief. "You're awake! You have no idea how wor-…" She cut herself off mid-sentence as Se'tak's whole body violently seized. "No, No, NO, NOOOOO!"

All around him there was…nothing. His surroundings were all black. Oddly enough Se'tak wasn't scared. He had no sense of time and didn't feel any pain. He floated on in the void, content just to be.

Periodically the darkness around him would ripple. It wasn't a threatening movement, nor was it uncomfortable, just a little weird. It was like someone knocking on the side of a bubble. This place—whatever it was, wherever it was—was nice. Calm. Peaceful.

Saint Vincent de Paul Hospital, Paris, France, 2291.298, 0903 hours. The five of them emerged from the elevator bearing trays of breakfast food. Spock was mentally prepared to face another long day averting Nyota's hostility toward him while awaiting word of Se'tak's prognosis. What he was not prepared for was the flurry of medical personnel racing around the corner and down the hall. He comprehended the significance of their movements seconds ahead of his children. The 2 trays he carried fell crashing to the floor as he broke away at a sprint toward Se'tak's room.

"Sa-mekh?" they called out futilely behind him.

It could've been a second or it could've been a year, he really didn't know, but suddenly Se'tak's quiet little world started swirling away like water down a drain. The comfortable darkness that surrounded him was gradually replaced by a dazzling, white, light that was sucking him in. Gazing into this new abyss, his heart thundering in his side, he discerned the outline of a woman waiting for him with arms wide open.

Saint Vincent de Paul Hospital, Paris, France, 2291.298, 0904 hours. Nyota was bent over in the hallway sobbing hysterically. When she heard Spock's footfalls thundering down the corridor she reached for him automatically and latched onto his outstretched arms.

"I don't know what's happening," she gasped. "He just started seizing and then..." Her anxious gaze darted to the room where doctors and nurses issued orders and moved frantically around each other to try and save their son. Fresh tears sprung to her eyes as they heard his heart monitor flat line. "Oh G-d! We're going to lose him!" Spock said nothing but she saw the same fear reflected back at her.

Over his shoulder she spied the kids coming up fast and did her best to pull herself together for their sake.

She didn't succeed.

The indistinct woman grew clearer as Se'tak got closer. He tried to place her—she seemed familiar somehow—but he couldn't remember where he'd seen her or how he knew her. Behind him the last little bit of bubble trembled steadily as it if was trying to coax him back. His old world didn't look quite so peaceful now but he longed for it all the same.

"It's ok, Sweetheart. Just relax," the woman instructed him. Her tone was soothing and for some reason rather then fearing the change Se'tak decided to trust her. Instead of clinging to the darkness he simply let go.

Saint Vincent de Paul Hospital, Paris, France, 2291.298, 0905 hours. The steady hum of the heart monitor served as an unnerving backdrop against the 8 or 9 pairs of rubber soled feet squeaking against the wooden floor."Clair*!" a voice ordered amidst the chaos. All motion ceased and everyone—doctors, nurses, and family alike—held their breath.

Selas borrowed Rebecca's watery sight to witness the electrical jolt delivered to his sa-kai's chest. He felt the shock as readily as if it had been delivered to his own breast. Se'tak's chest heaved then fell limp and unmoving against the bed. The medical personnel surrounding him quickly jumped back into action. The heart monitor continued it's ominous hum as Rebecca turned to bury her head and cry into his shoulder.

The woman who'd been waiting for him finally came into focus. He guessed she was in her late-50's or early-60's and her salt and pepper hair was tucked neatly under a dull gray scarf. Her dress was a Vulcan one and outdated at that.

She greeted him with open arms and a sweet smile. "Se'tak!" Her eyes were kind and it was in them he recognized her for who she really was.

"Ko-mekh-il*?"

She nodded and drew him close. He hesitantly returned her warm embrace, still puzzled by the fact that a woman long dead was solid and warm in his arms. Only when she was good and ready did she hold him at arm's length for a closer inspection and she began frowning at what she saw. "No."

"No?"

"This isn't right. You're too young." She glanced around curiously. If there were others lurking nearby he didn't see them, all he saw was the white light. "You don't belong here yet. You have to go."

"What? But you still haven't told me what's going on!"

"There isn't time. Now go." She pushed him back in the chest with both hands.

"But…"

"I said go!" Another shove, this one more forceful. He stumbled then stubbornly began making his way back to her.

"Why…" This time Ko-mekh-il met him head on and although she was much smaller she was clearly much stronger for her push nearly knocked him off his feet. Every time he tried to open his mouth to talk to her she'd deliver another shove that left his chest sore and aching. Without warning the darkness reached out from behind and rapidly dragged him back to the void. "Give everyone my love!" Ko-mekh-il shouted before disappearing from view.

Saint Vincent de Paul Hospital, Paris, France, 2291.298, 0908 hours. They delivered 5 shocks with the external defibrillator yet none were able to produce a normal rhythm. T'Alora watched in morbid curiosity as they struggled to save Se'tak's life. She did not wish to witness her sa-kai's passing yet neither could she turn away. Veren stood behind her, a supportive hand on her shoulder, prepared to support her no matter the outcome.

T'Alora gazed to her left where Mama and Sa-mekh clung resolutely to each other, at last displaying the solidarity that had carried them through the more difficult years of their service in Starfleet. To her right she witnessed Selas comfort Rebecca, holding her close and tenderly stroking her hair, even as his own tears trailed quietly down his cheeks. For her part T'Alora could not cry; she was struck dumb with anticipatory grief.

"Clair!" came the warning as a 6th jolt was about to be administered. How much longer would their life-saving efforts continue before they acknowledged that Se'tak could not be recovered? T'Alora held her breath as the shock was administered. As he sa-kai's body fell back against the bed the rhythm on the heart monitor changed. She peered quizzically at the doctors and nurses for signs of reassurance.

"Nous avon une impulsion!"*

The old dark world was not the haven it used to be. Unlike before this time Se'tak hurt all over—but particularly where Ko-mekh-il whaled on his chest. The border also trembled with the same insistency it had before he left, jostling his sore body about so he couldn't find any peace. Just what in the hell was going on?

As he was trying to get a handle on things he noticed another pinprick of light coming from a far off corner. It wasn't the dazzling white where Ko-mekh-il stood nor was it pulling him quite as hard but Se'tak gravitated toward it nonetheless. Forcing himself slowly along he wondered what this new gray space held in store for him. Whatever it was it had to be better then the darkness and the light, right?

Maybe?

Saint Vincent de Paul Hospital, Paris, France, 2291.298, 2241 hours. They got him back—barely—and once Nyota was allowed into his room again she refused to let Se'tak out of her sight even for a moment lest he slip away. Her body, however, had other ideas. The shock, adrenaline, and fatigue of the following days started to catch up to her and she felt herself slowly drift off to sleep…

Meanwhile Spock sat in his chair on the opposite side of the bed already lightly dozing. Tonight he dreamt—a rarity for Vulcans—and an image of his ko-mekh smiling beatifically at him came into view. Her visage wavered like a landscape viewed across a heated desert but it did not dissipate. As he pondered the significance of her presence he gradually returned to consciousness…

…and as he awoke Spock gazed into his sa-fu's face only to find Se'tak blinking back at him.

* "Clair!" = French, "Clear!"

* "Ko-mekh-il?" = Vulkhansu, "Grandmother?"

* "Nous avon…" = French "We have a pulse!"

A/N: I like to think Amanda Grayson has been watching over the family for years...and I hope I have a Guardian Angel up there watching out for me too ; - )