James Tiberius Kirk

Finally, that primal part of his brain, the part that worked to keep him alive when he wasn't paying attention, said stop being stupid and he took his second breath. Third. Fourth. Fifth. They kept coming, the pain easing at the same time that his vision went from blurry blobs to fuzzy shapes and finally to something resembling… trees? 

Trees? He was in the woods?

He was dead and all he got was being shoved into some forest - albeit one for dead people? He was a hero! He seriously needed to go haunt somebody and let them know that dying sucked, there were no pearly gates, and he demanded an immediate refund.

That was when the rest of his body decided it needed to make its immediate aches and pains fully noted. Everything hurt, aching in a bone deep way that said he needed to both move and that he needed to sleep for another week. He couldn’t particularly decide which, so instead he chose to lay there, debating if the pain meant he was not, in fact, dead.

But… he had to be, didn’t he? The radiation he had absorbed when he kicked the reactor back into place should have killed him, and he had… Spock had been there, and he had… 

He gulped, pushing the memory away, shifting to try and get his arm under him, his wings fluttering lightly as if - 

Wait. Wings? WINGS?!

His head jerked around, for a moment making him see white stars and he stared in absolute horror at the canary yellow and black edged wings that peeked from behind his back, disturbingly bright on a dead man. Well, he thought he was dead… But he had only ever been to one place where he had sported wings, and angel wings were white (right?). So... was this... was this Luceti? Was he being punished by being sent to the hell version of Luceti, the place he thought he had somehow managed to escape (but never find again despite his efforts - and, in fairness, he had been a bit distracted). Or worse- this was real. He was alive, and he was back in Luceti. 

And in a hospital gown. Awesome. 

To weak to move himself much more, he collapsed back down, sweating for his effort and he wondered if he would stink of radiation now… did radiation have a scent? He guessed he’d find out. His eyes drifted, coming back from the pain induced haze they’d glazed through, dropping on the journal. Of course it was right beside him, like a faithful dog that didn’t know when it wasn’t wanted.

Well, this time he actually needed it. He reached out, bringing it closer, that effort alone making his head spin as he worked it open to speak - ]

Hey everyone. You miss me?

[ Of course, that's base on the idea there's anyone he knows still here to miss him. Did they remember him, a year and more later? ]