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In a box, on a base, in Scarran space
Inside his box, Stark dreams. What else is there to do when you were in forced stasis?
And when you are Stark, and you are dreaming for a long time, what is there to dream about? Not cupcakes. Stark dreams of blue, in blue, about blue. When he dreams, all is right with Stark's world. He knows better, on some level. Knows that when he wakes, if he wakes, this will all disappear. Knows that his world is lacking in blue. Knows he is alone, adrift in the universe. Knows that he is still not free.
But for now, Stark can ignore all that. Stark can dream. Stark will dream. Of the blue that was love, is love, will always be love. And of two places that once were home. Two places where his life was shared, however briefly, with his Zhaan.
In his dreams, Stark remembers. Stark remembers curved golden walls and the constant hum of a living ship. And more importantly, Stark remembers being loved. Stark remembers the peace of being held in loving arms, remembers the calm of cool fingers on his face. He remembers the comfort of a gentle voice soothing him through a panic, remembers the joy of an unexpectedly white smile in a blue face. Stark remembers Unity, and he remembers the feeling of being whole and sane. Stark remembers her, and for a while, he is content.
**
Other times there are other dreams. Zhaan appears in these dreams, not as a memory but as something much more real. She talks to him then, keeps him from becoming lost inside his own mind.
"Are you here?" he hears himself ask inside his head. "Really? Are you real? Are you back?"
"My poor broken Stark." Zhaan reaches out then, brushes her fingertips across his cheek. "I never left."
"You did," Stark insists. "Twice. At least. You left."
"I was always here. I have always been in here, with you, part of you."
Stark decides then it doesn't matter. Zhaan in dreams is better than no Zhaan at all. And this dream-Zhaan is right, he has carried a part of her with him for so long now. It isn't the same, but it will do. It has been enough in the past, and it will be enough for now.
"Stay," he finds himself pleading. "Stay here like this. I need you."
"You don't," she answers gently. "You are enough, as yourself." But she stays with him inside his head anyway, and that helps. He wants to protest that he isn't enough because if it were he wouldn't be trapped here like this, but he's unwilling to ruin even an imaginary moment with such things.
But dreams, like all things, end.
[See? I can still be nice to the poor emo alien. Sort of.]
And when you are Stark, and you are dreaming for a long time, what is there to dream about? Not cupcakes. Stark dreams of blue, in blue, about blue. When he dreams, all is right with Stark's world. He knows better, on some level. Knows that when he wakes, if he wakes, this will all disappear. Knows that his world is lacking in blue. Knows he is alone, adrift in the universe. Knows that he is still not free.
But for now, Stark can ignore all that. Stark can dream. Stark will dream. Of the blue that was love, is love, will always be love. And of two places that once were home. Two places where his life was shared, however briefly, with his Zhaan.
In his dreams, Stark remembers. Stark remembers curved golden walls and the constant hum of a living ship. And more importantly, Stark remembers being loved. Stark remembers the peace of being held in loving arms, remembers the calm of cool fingers on his face. He remembers the comfort of a gentle voice soothing him through a panic, remembers the joy of an unexpectedly white smile in a blue face. Stark remembers Unity, and he remembers the feeling of being whole and sane. Stark remembers her, and for a while, he is content.
**
Other times there are other dreams. Zhaan appears in these dreams, not as a memory but as something much more real. She talks to him then, keeps him from becoming lost inside his own mind.
"Are you here?" he hears himself ask inside his head. "Really? Are you real? Are you back?"
"My poor broken Stark." Zhaan reaches out then, brushes her fingertips across his cheek. "I never left."
"You did," Stark insists. "Twice. At least. You left."
"I was always here. I have always been in here, with you, part of you."
Stark decides then it doesn't matter. Zhaan in dreams is better than no Zhaan at all. And this dream-Zhaan is right, he has carried a part of her with him for so long now. It isn't the same, but it will do. It has been enough in the past, and it will be enough for now.
"Stay," he finds himself pleading. "Stay here like this. I need you."
"You don't," she answers gently. "You are enough, as yourself." But she stays with him inside his head anyway, and that helps. He wants to protest that he isn't enough because if it were he wouldn't be trapped here like this, but he's unwilling to ruin even an imaginary moment with such things.
But dreams, like all things, end.
[See? I can still be nice to the poor emo alien. Sort of.]