And All Was Not Quiet in the House [ voice/action; ]

[ He was floating.. and screaming. He was screaming and no one could hear him, wasn’t sure he could hear himself, but he knew he was screaming. He felt the ache in his hands as he pounded on the side of the capsule. He thought he could feel the slickness of blood where he had clawed at the thick siding and broken his nails.

Through the siding he could feel heat, not cold. Heat from an explosion, from an impact. Logic said that even though he should not be able to out in space, he thought he could hear the breaking of metal, people screaming, freezing, dying… ]

You can’t save them, Captain.

[ He tenses, gasping, jerking in tight confines of the tube, face twisting. He should not have been able to see anything in the darkness, that absolute darkness, but he could see HIS face… Khan’s face. He was smirking at him, eyes full of certainty, hard and cruel, even a bit of madness. ]

Do you understand, Captain? You can’t save them. You sealed their fates.

[ He wanted to scream no, to protest. He thought he felt his jaw moving, thought he was protesting, telling him was wrong, but he had no voice he could hear. The only thing he could hear was the explosions outside, the words of Khan beside him. ]

You’re just like me now, Captain. You can feel it, can’t you? We’re both of us monsters.

[ No no, he was wrong. He was wrong, he knew he was wrong. He gasped, feeling fingers around his throat, squeezing, choking the protests out of him. Those dead eyes came closer, so clear, so sure, and yet he knew so very mad. Full of lies. Full of truth.

The color shifted. It was Khan’s face, but his eyes looking back at him. It wasn’t right. That wasn’t how he looked. It wasn’t how he thought or felt. And yet he could feel the heat still, hear the screams as people died from his mistakes…. ]

 

It’s all your fault - CAPTAIN.

 

[ He squeezed, he squeezed so tight it hurt, and this time - this time he heard himself scream. ]
 

 

[ In his bed, in the world of the waking, of the living, he thrashed in his bed, screaming his protests, screaming for his crew, begging them to run, to hide, to be okay. Incoherent babble as he clawed at the air and the bed, gasping as he thought he felt his throat seize.

 

Then it would start again, his screams, eyes open, and seeing nothing.

And on the floor, open where it fallen when he fell to sleep reading, his journal... ]

[ ooc: Gray = dream, black = reality ]