This fic started screaming at me and I couldn't get back to Plant Life until this was out of my head. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Not mine. And now the film's out of the cinema so I can't go and see it for the eighth time. ANGST!

When night falls, memories fade. Can he remember why he's running?

Snow

Just have to tell them... Just have to...

He kept running until his boots skidded over the black ice on the road and he went down hard.

Just have to tell them...

He got up, only to fall again. He had to move but he couldn't stay on his feet. He needed to get off the ice and back onto the snow. He threw himself forward, scrabbling across the icy road until he was once again able to stand on the snow. He didn't have time to waste. He needed to get to the town because it was coming for him and he needed to lose it and...

...he had to tell them...

The snow was getting higher, his legs burning harder to get through it all. He risked a look over his shoulder. The sun was fading to a moon's pale white in a darkening sky. It was definitely coming... He carried on moving, getting closer and closer to the town. Once there, he'd be able to contact them, tell them...

Moving took all his concentration as the snow went from knee-level, thigh-high to waist-deep... Where was a burning hot desert when you needed it? He was tired, so tired, but it was catching up with him and the he had to get to the town and find a way to tell them soon or else...

He reached the town's southernmost house only to fall again, sinking into the snow. For a moment he wanted to stay there but he had to tell them. But it was silent here in this blanketed town

This is an emergency. Please... respond. ...distress call from.... Anyone... hear... they're.... all gone and we need...

with its missing people and its lonely homes and shops where the lights burned bright for naught but themselves. He got back to his feet and began jogging down the main street, feeling oddly at home. He was lulled by this picturesque place, its old-world charm and homeliness. It stood, warm and cheerful, against its frozen backdrop. His jog slowed to a walk and then an amble. On the cold air he could still smell the remnants of log fires and well-cooked food. The empty street he walked down seemed to be waiting for a parade: strings of multicolored lights hung between the big, black street-lamps. A grin tickled his lips. Light-years from Earth and it was as though they'd responded to a distress call from a Christmas card. Never had somewhere so deserted been so welcoming. When they had arrived...

They had... Frowning, he came to a stop. They? Where was everyone else? There was a fuzziness in his head, leading up to a gaping abyss where several memories belonged. He checked behind him in case they were there, but he was alone and the night was drawing ever closer, closer still, until the southern tip of the small town was enshrouded. He started moving again, picking up speed. It felt like he was running out of time.

He had to tell them...

It was catching up with him, always right on his heels. He moved on through the town, pushing through the deep drifts as the wind picked up and snow lazily drifted down in fat chunks. Not much further, just a little past the town... He had to tell

Estimated loss is at... percent of the... There's so few left. Please respond!

them the colony was...

Noise. Sound. Life? He stopped, breathing hard, and turned to the last house on the town's edge. Its door stood open. He could see the furnishings within. He tried to find his voice to call out but it was strangely hoarse. Were they in there? Was that where he'd left them? He tried to remember who had come down to the planet with him but their names skittered away from him before he could get them off the tip of his tongue.

Music drifted out, melancholy strings echoing out across the darkened town. He looked over his shoulder, watching the lights as they struggled to hold out, little spots of color still twinkling in the black. It was closing in on him.

...can't remember what... but...

The house pulled him in. He crossed the threshold, stepped into a warmly decorated room that still radiated a deep chill. The music played on, scratchy now, from an ancient record player. He'd never seen such technology outside of a museum and he marvelled at its intricacies. The big black record continued to spin around, the music somehow not too loud even though it had echoed so much outside.

What if they're...what... I'm the only... left?

He continued through the house, the music following him like a whispered soundtrack. He passed through a kitchen that smelt of freshly baked bread, upstairs bedrooms with beds ready for their occupants, a bathroom with a bath full of frozen water...

And something knocking upstairs in the attic.

He had to tell them...

The door slammed shut and that was when he remembered that it had been chasing him and the odd night that had washed into town was...

Please tell me... hear this message... distress call! Help...

Was what? What was the night?

He reached the front door only to find he couldn't get it open. Outside, the snow shining under street-lights was the only thing he could see beyond the blackness. The abyss in his head had grown. He couldn't remember if it was supposed to be night or not, and if it wasn't he certainly couldn't think what had caused it. He backed away from the glass, bumping into the table. All the cutlery jingled, the sound overriding the music.

“Enterprise to the away team. Please respond.”

Startled, he turned to an old, wood-panelled television tucked away in the corner. Grainy black and white static stormed over the screen but the voices came out perfectly clear.

“Do you think we're getting through? We're in geosynchronous orbit as you asked...”

“Ah've connected to the analogue waves as best ah can but ah cannae be sure Lieutenant. Any response Commander?”

He walked up to the television, his head hurting as he tried to make sense of the static. “Hello?” his voice shook, shivering with the cold.

“I am uncertain as to whether or not we are being heard but we must assume that this message is broadcasting through equipment that does not allow for response.”

“Aye, it's likely.”

“We lost contact at 17:00 hours when a heavy snow storm set in. We are still registering all six life-signs from the away team – one in the town and five with or close to each other in the surrounding area due west – but the planet is otherwise deserted, the cause unknown. The colonists here are presumed dead.”

What if I'm the only one?

He had to tell them... He stopped, his breath caught. What was he supposed to tell them? He'd run back to the town thinking of it. Why was it gone? What had he known?

“We will attempt to re-establish communication and transporter functions. If this is not achieved within ten minutes, a shuttle...”

The TV died. The music stopped, the record player's arm lifting itself and settling back down in its cradle. The lights flickered and dimmed, electricity humming loudly, but they clung on to life. He stood up, limbs stiffening in the cold. Something was still knocking in the attic. Did he want to look? Maybe he should just head for the other life-signs the voice on the TV had spoken of... He knew he needed to move before the cold robbed him of his ability to do so.

His curiosity won.

He went back to the stairs and took them slowly, his eyes searching for the way to get into the attic. He spotted the hatch in front of the bathroom and reached up for the drawstring to pull it down. A ladder slid to the landing and the knocking stopped. Above, all was dark and quiet. He called out again. Nothing. He climbed the ladder, rung by rung, feeling the air grow colder as he left the lived in areas behind.

In the attic he couldn't see anything. Had he just imagined the noise? Was it just something hitting the roof – a tree branch perhaps?

Something breathed, out of synch with him.

“Who are you?”

It didn't want to speak. Hands – four – pushed him backwards and he fell, out of the darkness and back into the light of the house. Winded, splayed out on his back, he looked up and saw four gray hands gripping the edges of the attic hatch. The arms bent, pulling the bulk of the body forwards. His gaze met three glimmering yellow eyes.

It was coming for him. No... they. He remembered what had been following him into the town. Two. There were two...

He was down the stairs in two leaping bounds just as wood splintered and cracked and a heavy body smacked into the landing. He didn't waste time trying the front door. Sprinting for the kitchen, he grabbed the back door's handle and when the door refused to budge, a few well-placed kicks ensured that it went down.

And then he was back outside, racing through the night and the snow as fast as he could. He didn't need to look back to know it was coming for him.

Where the hell was the other one?

At least he could remember what he had to tell them.

But it was fading again already, the thoughts and the words sinking into that same abyss that had stolen names and locations.

He sprinted across open, snowy country. There was a fence ahead of him and somehow he managed to hurdle it, only to land not on snow but on ice... Thin ice. It wasn't black ice either. If he looked down he could see water stirring. But he couldn't stop. It was coming and now it was barely ten meters away and coming up fast, faster than he could go when it had four legs versus his suddenly measly two. He ran over the ice, listening with increasing unease to its cracks and groans. He just had to reach the other bank where the trees were. Maybe he could hide in there, get himself heading west. Maybe he'd be able to lose it...

This... distress call from... from... Damnit, I don't know but.... urgent assistance!

He skidded to a stop. There it was was: the one that had chased him into the town. Together the two of them had pulled a pincer move on him.

I don't know if... What if it's just me?

He looked left, saw empty space and didn't waste the opening. He ran but his balance grew precarious as large chunks of ice began to break free and float like miniature islands. But stopping was no longer an option. The pair were closing in from both sides and they had no trouble with the ice, not with all their extra limbs. He ran, hopped and jumped his way across the frozen pond but then his foot landed in the wrong spot and it passed through melted slush and then his whole leg was submerged and the rest of his body was tipping over...

The cold water was the worst shock of his life and he fought back to the surface. Choking, he was almost too cold to breathe. He got his arms on the more solid ice, only for two sets of four gray feet stomp into his field of vision. Looking up, he met their unreadable faces and knew then without needing to remember that they were the reason he was alone.

I can't remember... but... needed to... distress...

He was too cold to shiver and very nearly too cold to feel. He looked back to the town, saw the lights still shining in the darkness. He tried to scramble onto the ice but he slipped back into the water, another icy plunge clearing the haze in his head and pulling a few voices out of the abyss.

“Captain, the night is spreading. We're running out of time. We need to contact the Enterprise.”

“O'Hara, did you see zat?”

“Where?”

“Zere! Zere, you see it? By ze lake?”

“Right, you all need to stay here. Help Dawes take care of Parsons and shoot anything that tries to attack unless its begging for help. I'll lead that damn thing back to the town.”

“But sir, you've lost your communicator and your phaser...”

“I'll just have to run faster.”

He broke the surface again, gasping air into lungs that had almost forgotten how to breathe. The others... he'd left them... he needed to get to them before... before...

No, no... I think they're all dead. It's just me now.

The abyss reclaimed his thoughts. The creatures paced back and forth, circling him too fast to give him any chance of escape. However, he couldn't tread water much longer. So, did he want to deal with them or drown?

Using whatever strength he could muster, he tried hauling himself onto the ice one more time. The creatures were on him in an instant, eight hands holding him absolutely still. Then they pushed him back down. The water closed over his head and he sank, deeper and deeper until he hit the bottom...

But it wasn't the bottom. Not quite. There were bodies in the way.

“I kennot watch Keptin.”

“It's okay. Don't worry about it.”

“I hev never seen so many dead.”

“Now we know why the colony's empty.”

“Captain! It's Parsons! He's been attacked!”

“I'm on my way. Chekov, come on. Don't stay here.”

“Aye sir.”

Nausea churning inside him, chest spasms painfully reminding him he needed to breathe, his feet found solid footing on one body and he pushed off hard, clawing back to the surface. It took so long to get there and he was nearly gone before he once again found air. He was too busy breathing to notice at first but then he realized not only was it bright daylight but the creatures had gone too. He looked and saw them bounding back towards the town.

Had they thought he was dead?

I... I can't remember... But please help us. Wherever... track... and come for us.

Alive. He was still alive. And he remembered too.

Chekov. Where was he? And Parsons too, the first to take on one of the creatures, only for all of them to forget what it was the moment it brought the night down. Who else... who else...? Dawes, O'Hara, Uhura and himself...

He'd left them... left them with Parsons... He fought to get out of the ice. He was fading. He wouldn't last long if he didn't get out this time. It nearly took everything he had but he made it onto the ice and, without giving himself a chance to rest and freeze, began his dangerous journey to the lake's western side where his crew waited.

The night crept up, twilight shading in the sun. The haze crept back in. He looked over his shoulder. The creatures had seen him, were turning back towards him...

He made it into the snowy woods but he'd already forgotten who he was looking for. He just ran; a half shambling, half stumbling lope that was all he could manage. His back ached and his ribs struggled to move enough to allow his lungs to breathe. Had he ever been this cold? But he had a sudden, more immediate worry: he wasn't in a wood but instead in a short lived copse that sputtered out onto wide open fields.

Wide open fields... and a shuttle. He wasn't alone!

Time was counting down again, the darkness coming. On numbed legs he ran, ploughing through the snow that was now warmer than his body. He could hear voices, precise words lost, shouting at him across the distance. Dark again. The abyss grew, claiming memories faster now. What was even going on? He was running, heart pounding and limbs throbbing, but why? Should he stop? Instinct screamed no and he'd rarely gone against his gut. He could see the shuttle ahead, didn't know who he'd find aboard it, but what choice did he have? Something was chasing him and it... they weren't being quiet about it. A hand nearly caught him from behind, catching his thick coat only for the fabric to tear. The garment's weakness saved his life and he pulled free. He looked up, saw how close he was to the shuttle. He heard weapons firing and threw himself into a snowdrift. His pursuers screamed out before collapsing to the ground. He looked, saw that they were dead, hot bodies steaming in the cold. He moved to push himself up but and before he could someone else did it for him.

“Come on Jim, it's time to get outta here.”

He knew the voice but the sunlight hadn't brought his memories back yet. He was dragged onto the shuttle and shoved into a seat. As his mind cleared, names came back to him. Parsons was still bleeding on the floor with Dawes putting pressure on the wounds. Chekov looked cold but relieved. Uhura offered a brief smile before returning to scribbling rapidly on her datapad. O'Hara was manning the shuttle's defenses. Sulu was at the helm and he offered a brief wave before launching the shuttle. That left...

“Bones.” He offered his friend a dopey grin. “You're Bones.”

“And you're an idiot with hypothermia. Help me get you out of those wet clothes before you damn well freeze to death.”

“Our first time in front of an audience?” He was shivering so hard he could barely move to help. “You're one kinky bastard.”

McCoy was silent until Kirk was stripped of his wet layers (which was everything he wore) and wrapped in several thick blankets. Once certain his friend was warming sufficiently and not a step away from giving death's door a good pounding, McCoy asked: “What the hell happened down there Jim?”

I think they're all dead now. Maybe I'm...

Teeth chattering, he gazed out a nearby porthole and saw random patches of darkness against the sunlit snow. “We got here too late.”