Well hi there. This has been awhile. Can't say that I'm proud of it, but I won't offer the same shit I've said in the past. I've tried so, so hard to come back to my old stories, for anyone that's read them and wondered what the hell happened. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't make it work. I'll keep trying, I might be able to re-write them and finish them that way, but for now, this has been an idea I've been working on for a long while. It's still a work in progress, but I have nothing but time with my home under quarantine.

I want to preface this by saying that any medical/science/mental health nonsense you read in here should be taken with a grain of salt. I am not a professional in any of these areas, so there's a bit of a creative license.

Please let me know what you think, I am definitely anxious to get back in the groove of writing. It's something that I've been feeling the call to for a really long time.

As always, thank you so much for all of your support. I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing.

Ta!

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Star Trek franchise.

I was formless. I was conscious. I was everywhere. Universes burned through my mind, flashes of lives that I slipped in and out of. Lovers coming together, again and again. Parents lost in grief, mourning the loss of their child. Little ones shrieking with laughter in an endless game of chase. Worlds that ever lived on through the grinding of the wheel. Empires that rose and fell only to take on another name eons later and try once again. I was a part of everything. A never ending pattern, woven through the very fabric of existence. I bore witness to it all. I saw everything. I had never seen anything more beautiful.

But… there was something… I couldn't place it, but somewhere in the grand tapestry, it was there. A dark spot. A void. Something… something was missing. Almost unnoticeable by how small the vacuum was compared to everything, but once I saw it, it was the only thing I could see. This deep, bottomless pit full of nothing, missing everything. It pulled at my soul in a way that sent a chill down to my core. I could hear whispers coming from it. I could barely remember them, distant as they were from the purpose I now served, but recognition went through me all the same.

'George, she's beautiful…'

'Your father was Captain of… I dare you to be better.'

'I find myself feeling…'

I… I knew these people. Who were they? It disturbed me how… unfinished this void felt. Like something had been stolen from it before this part of the pattern was complete. It lacked everything. Life, color, purpose. It bled out to everything around it, leeching the hope, making everything around it look bleak and lifeless. Like all the threads cocooning this void had given up all hope of repairing it, but they were too committed to try anything else.

There was one spot in particular that seemed to be almost as black as the threads right next to it. I realized with great sorrow that the threads reaching out from the void made up half of this spot right next to it that was somehow still alive. Though not for long, judging by how fast the color drained away. It was in the shape of… something. Someone? I couldn't remember, though I struggled to see the whole pattern I knew I was missing. There was something, just there, tickling me at the back of my mind. But what was it? ...what was it…?

"Oh, my petite prière, whatever are you doing here? You aren't supposed to see this yet."

For a moment, the universe stopped, and I could feel a slight tug from… somewhere. With alarm I realized it was pulling me down, down, in towards the pit. I struggled, but my momentum was relentless and… I just…

With a gasp, I wrenched my eyes open. Colors swam in front of me, making my head spin. Oh, God, I was going to be sick. I closed my eyes to take a grounding breath, and winced as pain lanced through every single inch of my body. My throat felt dry and scratchy, my lips cracked, and I was pretty sure that something heavy and immovable had run roughshod over my whole body. It felt like every bone in my body had been broken, twice.

"Nnnngmpf," I groaned in complaint at the pain of my own existence. There was a soft chuckle next to me, and I jumped (well, I tried to jump), startled. My eyes cracked open much more carefully this time, and I glared in the direction of the noise only to gasp as the image of my best friend in his hospital whites stood there, with his arms crossed over his chest.

Bones.

Something in me tightened in… I'm not sure whether to call it elation, relief, grief, shame… maybe it was a mix of it all. But once I found his soft, southern, blue eyes, I hiccuped and realized with mortification that I was sobbing.

"Oh, Piper, don't be so melodramatic," Bones murmured affectionately. "You were barely dead."

Bones reached out and brushed my bangs back from my face as I let loose a watery chuckle and shook my head, speechless.

"It's the blood transfusions that really took a toll on you. You were in a coma for two weeks." Bones brow furrowed with worry at that, and he pulled back from me, slipping into the mask his career demanded from him. He pulled a tricorder out from his pocket and ran it over my face, concentrating on the readings as I tried desperately to pull myself together.

Transfusions? What kind of transfusion cured death? Because I had definitely died. I could feel the memory of it pressing against my mind, taunting me, and I shied away from it in terror. Not yet. I was not nearly ready to deal with that yet. Later. Later. So what had brought me back from that… place? It had to be something unorthodox, that's for sure. Something practically superhuman to achieve the levels of healing my body required.

My eyes widened as it clicked into place.

"Khan?" I croaked. Jesus, but that didn't even sound like me. Bones nodded, a grim line set to his mouth. I'd had a transfusion of Khan's blood to save my life. Oh man, I was really going to throw up now. To think I had his blood in my veins made me feel all sorts of icky.

Later.

"I developed a serum from his blood to transfuse. Your cells were heavily irradiated, and it took some time for your body to adjust. To be honest, it was kind of hit and miss there for awhile." A haunted look was buried there, deep within his soul, and I only saw it because he let me. A deep, endless well of shame swallowed me whole, and my bottom lip quivered before I bit down. What had Bones gone through when my body - my body - had found its way to his table? What faults did he find in himself at my death? What nightmares would he have to face, and for how long?

Don't get me wrong, I made the right choice, and I would make it again without question to save my crew and those that I held most dear. If I was ever in a position like that, I knew down to my core that I would always and gladly give my life away in the need of saving those around me. But I could have the conviction that I made the right choice, and still feel upset about how it hurt those around me.

Bones blinked, and the pain was gone, the moment broken. He straightened back up to his full height and put the tricorder away, satisfied with the results. This time when he looked down at me, there was a gentle humor behind his eyes.

"Tell me, are you feeling homicidal, power mad, despotic?" I smiled weakly, trying to clear the rough feeling away from my throat to speak easier. (I was not successful).

"No more than normal," I whispered. Bones nodded and walked to the other side of my biobed, presumably to inspect the bags of medicine pumping into my veins. (is that why my brain felt so foggy?) I wasn't sure though, because my eyes stopped tracking his movements when I saw Spock was watching me quietly from the corner in his dress greys. Immediately, I felt my pulse quicken, and I was so grateful that Bones had the chime of the EKG turned off.

Spock's brown eyes were hooded, closed off to me, and all I could see from this far away was a tightness in his shoulders. My hand twitched, wanting to reach out to him and beckon him closer, but I clenched my fingers into a fist instead. As if he read my mind, Spock took slow, careful steps towards me until he was standing in the space that Bones had just occupied. He looked… so empty. Hollow. Like… something had been taken from him, and he couldn't be bothered with the energy to even feel upset about it.

Much to my dismay, I started sobbing all over again.

Spock's eyes softened, warmed to me, and I could see the emotions he was holding back boiling up inside him. They flashed across his face too quickly for me to discern what he was feeling, but they were there. I fisted my hands in the sheets, and took great, gulping gasps of air to try and steady my breathing, but I couldn't. I couldn't. I was so overwhelmed. I felt so much that I couldn't even begin to describe it at that moment. It consumed me, and I felt flashes of the emotions I'd been holding back at my death. It all pressed down on me, and my sobbing grew louder and more desperate. Next to me, Bones made a noise of mild concern.

"Hey, hey, Piper, you need to calm down. Piper!"

"If my presence is too distressing, perhaps I should visit at a later - "

"No!" It took me a moment to realize the loud cry of despair had come from me. Both men jumped and looked down at me in surprise. The thought of Spock leaving when he was so close, when I could finally touch him if I wanted, I just wanted to be able to reach through the glass and just touch him one last time…

I could not physically stomach the idea of Spock leaving. Fuck decorum, I felt entitled to be a little selfish after dying.

Sue me.

"P-please don't leave, Spock. I'm sorry, I'm a mess, I don't even know why I'm crying, but I can't… Bones, please don't make him leave me, please. I just, I just need a minute to calm down, I'm a little overwhelmed, but I'm okay, I'm okay - "

"Piper," Bones cut me off sharply. I hiccuped and bit back the rest of my pleading. My friend clucked disapprovingly at me and dabbed the tears and snot off my face with a tissue. "Calm down. Take deep breaths for me, that's right. Just like that."

I nodded and slowed my breathing. I hadn't realized that I'd been hyperventilating until Bones had pointed it out. My face flushed in embarrassment.

"Now, if you can keep yourself calmed the hell down, then Spock can stay, but I will not have anything or anyone in here that is going to stress you out." I'd heard this tone of voice before, and I knew how serious Bones was. He would remove Spock in a heartbeat if Bones thought it was wearing me too thin, damn the consequences.

I took a deep breath. I nodded. Bones narrowed his eyes at me for a moment before reading my acceptance on his face and nodding.

"I have to put in some orders to change your medications now that you're awake. I'll only be gone twenty minutes." Bones held a finger out to me warningly. "Calm."

I did not stick my tongue out at him as he left, but Spock absolutely quirked a ghost of a smile at me for it. I looked up at him, sheepish. Spock, unflappable in the face of my mess of a self, pulled a chair away from the wall and set it closer to my bedside before sitting down and placing his cap on my bedside table.

The silence stretched between us for several minutes. I was watching him watching me, wondering what could possibly be flitting across his big, beautiful brain when he took a breath in through his nose.

"How are you feeling, Captain?" I shrugged. Well, I tried to shrug. It was more of a twitch of my shoulders that made me wince as my sore and abused muscles protested.

"Like I died," I said flatly, wiping away the last of my breakdown off my face. Spock flinched away from me like I had slapped him and something - surprise? Hurt? - brushed his features before he caught himself and schooled his face into calmness once again. I ducked my head in shame.

"Sorry, that was insensitive," I murmured. Spock merely blinked at me. "How did you guys get enough of Khan's blood for a transfusion?"

Spock blinked once, twice, before collecting his hands neatly in his lap to answer.

"After your… death" did his voice actually hitch? "the crew of the Enterprise was able to apprehend and detain Khan at the behest of Doctor McCoy."

"Detain? How did you guys detain Khan?"

"By rendering him unconscious through physical altercation."

My eyes narrowed at Spock suspiciously.

"And just what possessed you to get into said altercation with the homicidal, power mad, despotic maniac?" Spock's lips pursed and a burning rage rolled off of him in waves, catching me completely by surprise, pressing at me on the edge of my awareness. I watched, fascinated, as he struggled to bury the raw emotion behind a lifetime of training. The muscles in his jaw worked to keep whatever it was he'd reflexively wanted to say buried deep in his chest. I wanted so badly to reach out and run my fingers across his lips, to feel the whisper of him at my fingertips. I fiddled with my blanket instead, patient.

"A feeling at the moment of your passing that I can only describe as a desire for vengeance," Spock finally admitted so quietly that I doubted I'd heard him correctly at first. I dropped my gaze down to the blanket, filled with a sad, empty feeling.

"I'm sorry, Spock." He tilted his head slightly in question. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt any of you. I was just trying to… to do the right thing."

"Logic dictates that you did make the right choice," he replied calmly. I made a noncommittal noise, looking back up to him tentatively.

Then why do I feel like I've done something wrong?

"As such, there is no requirement to apologize for simply being… logical." The words were definitely something Spock would normally say, but the tone wasn't there. It was… flat somehow, lacking. Like his heart wasn't really behind what he was saying. I frowned at him, concerned.

"Spock, are you okay?" His shoulders stiffened. His chocolate eyes lowered to examine his hands, and I could tell he was trying to think up an honest response that wouldn't tell the truth. (It's an annoying ability all Vulcans seem to possess)

Right as he opened his mouth to respond, the door to my room whooshed open, and Bones walked through, fiddling with something in my medical chart. Spock's mouth snapped shut with an audible click, and he stood wordlessly, collecting his hat and placing the chair back in its original spot. I watched him, dismayed. He was leaving. The desperate feeling filled me once again, but I choked it down.

I wouldn't beg him to stay a second time. I would not.

"I, regretfully, have a previous engagement to attend to, Captain," he explained. I nodded gloomily, trying to hide my disappointment. By the way Spock hesitated I don't think I did a very good job. "However, I am uncommitted to any appointments tomorrow, and I am able to spend more time here keeping you company, if you are amenable."

I smiled shyly and nodded my agreement. I knew I was blushing, I could feel the warmth in my cheeks. Spock had the grace to pretend he didn't notice, bless him.

"Chess?" I asked hopefully.

"Chess." Spock replied. I turned to watch Bones act like he was busy so I didn't have to see Spock walk through the door.

"You saved the crew."

His voice was deep. Had always been deep. Would always be deep. My heart ached and throbbed with the realization that there would be days his voice carried through that I would never experience. That these were my last moments with him, my last chance to look upon his face, and feel the full weight of his attention.

I choked on a sob building up in my chest.

He would be safe. I had to take comfort from that. My death wasn't meaningless. My ship was badly injured, but because of what I'd done at least it wouldn't catapult to the face of the earth and kill everyone I'd come to love like my own.

There wasn't any time to waste by doing something as pitiful as grieve.

"You used what he wanted against him."

My voice was so rough, it hardly sounded like me. I could tell Spock was thinking the same by the flicker of anguish in his brown eyes. I forced a weak grin and nodded in approval.

"That's a nice move."

"It is what you would have done," he admitted quietly.

Emotion swelled up in me, and this time I couldn't stop the tears from forming in my eyes. I wheezed with another breath. I was so touched. I wanted to wrap him up safely in the comfort of my arms and whisper my love into his hair. I wanted so much.

I never got what I wanted.

"And this… this is what you would've done. It was only logical." I responded.

Spock blinked in surprise and kind of… sank under the weight of my own admission. He didn't refute what I had to say, because logically, he knew I was right. Fuck, he had tried to do something like this down on Nibiru. And in the confines of my own mind and the memories I still kept from meeting Spock's older version on Vega, I knew for a fact that Spock had done this. In another life, and slightly different circumstances to be sure, but Spock had irradiated himself to save the crew.

"I'm scared Spock."

My voice trembled.

I hated it. I hated my own weakness, and my own sense of duty and honor. I hated everything about this choice. I hated that I had to die. I hated that I was suffocating more on my own fear than on my failing body functions. I hated that I was the one that shattered Spock's control so thoroughly that I didn't have to search deep into his eyes to find the despair he was battling. I burned with the force of my hatred.

Or maybe I was just feverish?

"Help me not be," I pleaded. "How do you choose not to feel?"

Spock's shoulders were shaking. I'd never seen him shake like this, not even when his mother died. Not even in the fit of rage I'd pushed him into so I could wrest control away from him. He sniffled softly before answering, and with a sense of horror I realized that my Vulcan was crying.

"I do not know. Right now I am failing."

The fact that he could freely admit that spoke volumes. I watched, morbidly fascinated, as a single tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. He did nothing to wipe it away. I'm not sure he even noticed. I looked up into his eyes, and the sheer amount of pain I could feel in his gaze broke the dam on my own tears. They felt blessedly warm against my clammy skin. I started crying, ugly and emotional. Spock pressed himself even closer to the glass, as if the sheer force of his will could make him phase through and scoop me up to safety.

But there was no miracle or last minute trick I could pull out of thin air this time.

I was going to die.

"Sp-Spock, I need… I'm sorry. I'm, fuck, I…"

I wanted to close my eyes to shy away from the magnitude of grief I felt weighing me down, but I couldn't. These were my last moments. I couldn't lose even one more second.

"Piper."

"I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I-"

"Piper, stop."

I stopped.

"I do not know what to say to aid you," he admitted, his voice sounding wet and broken. "I am ill equipped to comfort you in times of great stress such as these."

It was such a simple thing, such an honest truth, but the lack of oxygen and pain was making me delirious. It sounded like he was asking me to stop so he didn't have to try and comfort me, because he would fail. Because he wanted to be spared the embarrassment. But of course he wouldn't say something that callous. Still, I couldn't help the giggles.

I devolved into a fit that was somewhere between sobbing and laughing, and I could see the worry in his face deepen.

God, but I loved this man.

"Oh my God, you're so…" I gasped, well and truly struggling for air at this point.

It took Herculean effort to compose myself enough to smile up at him. I brought a shaky hand up and pressed it against the glass in a way that I could almost believe meant I was touching his cheek.

"You're so great, do you know that?"

There was a flash of something so quick, I couldn't register what it was. He raised his hand and lined it up to mine in the ta'al. I clumsily worked my fingers together to match his, affection bubbling up in me. I wondered what it would feel like to have his fingers really pressed against mine. Would they be soft, or worn with use? How much warmer was his skin? Would my body tingle where it grazed against his? How long would it take after this for Spock to feel happy again? How much did he have to suffer before he could put my death behind him? Would he ever forget about me? Could he have come to love me as much as I loved him?

All questions I would never live long enough to have answered.

Spock's expression warmed for a brief moment into something like wonder as he stared at where our hands met on the glass. He blinked heavily, and another tear ran down his cheeks. His eyes slid past our hands to my face, where I could feel the smile still on my lips.

"I find myself feeling the same sentiments for you, my friend," he admitted softly.

I love you.

The words were right there. I could taste them. I could feel them itching behind my lips, and I wanted so badly to open my mouth and finally release myself from this one great secret. To shed this last burden, and bring him into the deepest depths of my heart. To share with him just how great and profound these emotions I sheltered for him burned under my skin every time I saw him. How every glimmer of a smile in his eyes warmed me all the way down to my toes. That his gentle affection didn't go unnoticed. That I appreciated every single fucking thing about his existence. That he was important to me in ways that no one could ever be to claim, not even Bones.

I wanted…

But I never did.

Because in the next moments, my body squeezed the air from my lungs, and everything around me went black. Spock's brown eyes were the last things I saw before one final breath shuddered out of my body, then… nothing.

My eyes snapped open, and I screamed. Sweat rolled down into my eyes, stinging them, but it washed out quickly from the tears pouring down my face. I choked, and heaved in a great gasp of air before I collapsed in on myself and wept. I bit my pillow to try and muffle the high-pitched keening noises I was making. So many emotions flashed through me, that I couldn't hold on to just one and experience it well enough to process. They all tried to take control - grief, terror, love, heartache, rage at how unfair this all was, why was my life always so fucking unfair? I could feel my heart trying to beat out of my chest with all of the emotion I was experiencing.

I froze.

What if… what if my heart gave out right now? What if the stress triggered some latent problem Bones hadn't noticed? What if the cortisol had built up enough in such a way that it just… gave out? Was that even a thing that could happen? What if it was something Bones didn't think to look out for?

What if I died again?

Immediately, my breathing became erratic, and my eyes snapped open wide and unseeing. Blind panic took over all thought processes, so I didn't hear the nurse enter the room and try to get my attention. I didn't feel the prick of the hypospray in my neck, or hear the soothing platitudes offered to me in an attempt to calm me down. I did, however, feel the rapid effects of the medicine as it pumped through my veins. My heartbeat slowed dramatically, and my emotions kind of… fogged over until I was aware that they were there, but it was much harder to feel them and hold on to them. A kind of numbness worked its way over me, starting at my toes. My breathing slowed.

I felt really heavy.

"There we go," the nurse cooed above me. I blinked with cemented eyelids and tried to look towards her, but it took too much effort, and I was suddenly so tired. She reached out and ran her fingers through my hair comfortingly.

"You're alright, Ms. Kirk. You're safe. Go back to sleep now, you need your rest." I tried to frown. I didn't think I wanted to sleep. It was fuzzy, but I think sleep is what caused the problem in the first place. However, nothing in my body wanted to cooperate with me, and much to my dismay I felt my consciousness slipping away from my control.

My last thought before the blackness overcame me was a paralyzing image of brown eyes, wet with tears, and an impossible pressure waiting to burst out of my chest.