[ Leonard stays in Jim's dream. Somehow. It doesn't feel right, none of it is his—none of this happened to him, yet he finds himself dashing through halls of the strange ship, failing to help people before they fall into the abyss of wherever the fuck this is. He finds the specter of Jim Kirk asking him to follow down the hall as the walls spin and the ground buckles beneath him.
He watches Jim die again. He tells himself he isn't there—this Jim doesn't respond to him the way the real one did, but it's not really easier even knowing that. He's still a human being. He's still trying to do the right thing. It's hard to watch.
So it happens again. And again. Even as he goes through the motions, Bones is aware that this means he's contracted the nightmare curse. Distantly, he knows he will be alright, as soon as someone finds him. And as soon as someone gives him the cure he's already prepared, because he's a paranoid fuck with contingency plans and he doesn't plan on dying any time soon.
It just takes time. And an exhausting vision that he hopes he'll be able to forget when he wakes up. If the people in his dream start to look more familiar, if his wife, Jocelyn, shows up in more than one hallway, it's just a nightmare. It'll pass. He grits his teeth through it and goes again and again.
Until, thank someone, he finally blinks awake blearily, the cure numbs his throat and jolts his endorphins into waking him into full, undead wakefulness. He coughs, hand reaching for his throat as his vision comes into focus. The sight of his Maker before him has to be the biggest relief Leonard has felt in years—not since his Becoming, and his death, has he been happier to see Karma looming above him, looking frazzled and out of sorts, but here. She's always here.
Leonard smiles, the kind of deep, full relief that he doesn't show anyone else. His lips are dry and sticky with blood, and his throat aches something fierce, but he's safe now and he has Karma to thank.
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He watches Jim die again. He tells himself he isn't there—this Jim doesn't respond to him the way the real one did, but it's not really easier even knowing that. He's still a human being. He's still trying to do the right thing. It's hard to watch.
So it happens again. And again. Even as he goes through the motions, Bones is aware that this means he's contracted the nightmare curse. Distantly, he knows he will be alright, as soon as someone finds him. And as soon as someone gives him the cure he's already prepared, because he's a paranoid fuck with contingency plans and he doesn't plan on dying any time soon.
It just takes time. And an exhausting vision that he hopes he'll be able to forget when he wakes up. If the people in his dream start to look more familiar, if his wife, Jocelyn, shows up in more than one hallway, it's just a nightmare. It'll pass. He grits his teeth through it and goes again and again.
Until, thank someone, he finally blinks awake blearily, the cure numbs his throat and jolts his endorphins into waking him into full, undead wakefulness. He coughs, hand reaching for his throat as his vision comes into focus. The sight of his Maker before him has to be the biggest relief Leonard has felt in years—not since his Becoming, and his death, has he been happier to see Karma looming above him, looking frazzled and out of sorts, but here. She's always here.
Leonard smiles, the kind of deep, full relief that he doesn't show anyone else. His lips are dry and sticky with blood, and his throat aches something fierce, but he's safe now and he has Karma to thank.
His voice comes out like a croak. ]
You look like shit, Karm.