[ It's like he can't touch anything with his actual hands when he hears You are dead, jaw setting and shaking in rigid denial. But that's the most clear thing about any of this weird dream where he's stuck in the past; Jesus, what if he's dying and his brain's just trying to compensate? The glass and the heat curdling his organs is far more vivid than sunshine and the conversation of passes-by. Sweating himself frozen in his skin, which makes no sense and too much. He tastes his own sickly-stale, rattling gasps again.
None of this has been allowed to even scratch the surface since his eyes reopened, now shredding its way though without a care.
Captain, I suggest ... He doesn't move.
That must be his own breathing because he can see his chest moving but his senses are wired to a don't move, don't look away, don't leave me mantra. Holy shit, I'm having a panic attack. Jim does the only thing he can think of to combat his sudden shortness of breath and grabs onto Spock's wrist. ]
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None of this has been allowed to even scratch the surface since his eyes reopened, now shredding its way though without a care.
Captain, I suggest ... He doesn't move.
That must be his own breathing because he can see his chest moving but his senses are wired to a don't move, don't look away, don't leave me mantra. Holy shit, I'm having a panic attack. Jim does the only thing he can think of to combat his sudden shortness of breath and grabs onto Spock's wrist. ]