Summary: Although mostly unrelated biologically, humans and wraiths share the
capability for dreaming. Post Common Ground.
Notes: PG13. Dedicated to not_sally.
He dreams of his birth. Not the birth of the flesh, but the birth of
purpose - the moment he knew that his life was to protect his people's,
and the moment he was forged into a weapon capable of doing it.
He dreams of his home across the stars, a living place that hums with
the knowledge of him and buzzes with the presence of his people.
He dreams of those he killed. He dreams of those who captured him.
He dreams of his solitude among the many.
He dreams of meeting somebody else who also lived in a place that hummed
his true name. Somebody else who -he had came to realize- killed also
without hate and with remorse tucked away.
He dreams of the life that passed to and fro between them.
He dreams of the connection.
When he wakes up, it takes him half a second to remember which of them
he is, and another half second to remember that he'll have to kill him
when they next meet.
The remorse is carefully tucked away.