Not Our Destiny
The cave is cold and barely illuminated by the fire the old Vulcan carefully tends. Jim knows there is no reason to be afraid. That truth does nothing to diminish his need to run, to escape, to get away before those aged fingers so carefully, almost lovingly, make contact with his face. He’s lost track of the number of times he has tried to alter the outcome of this encounter, the breaching of barriers that show Jim more than he should see. Jim doesn’t blame Spock Prime for initiating the meld that floods him with regret and something that feels like desire for that which will never be.
If he could just wake himself up before Spock reaches him. If he could stop the flood of memories to which he has no claim… if he could just stop Spock before it’s too late to turn back.
Waking abruptly, Jim knew his subconscious had once again lost that particular battle. He lay still in his rumpled bed, waiting for his heart rate and breathing to slow to something that resembled normal.
“Computer. Current time?” he asked, scrubbing his face with his palms.
“3:43,” the disinterested generic female voice (Human) responded.
Saturday, February 26, 2011 at 9:32PM 