An abyss, filled with emptiness and yet somehow bursting with life. His physical form no longer existed. Pain and pleasure entwined, coursing through his non-existent body. It was the home of the ancients, which he had glimpsed for a heartbeat when he had first been resurrected by Nephthys. Amaya.
Like water filling a floating jug, weight filled Imhotep's body, until he was resting on a solid surface in the empty fullness of death. Voices echoed everywhere, conversations, emotions, laughter. It was as if he was on one side of a wall, and on the other side there was a great feast full of commotion and cheer.
And then he heard her, calling to him from the other side of that wall. Her words were old, more ancient even than his. So he moved, as if walking under water, sliding through the nothingness towards her voice.
Somewhere along the way, his senses started to return, and he could see things, and hear more distinctly the call of his lover's voice.
And then he saw someone sitting alongside the path he travelled, glowing with a faint blue light that distinguished him from the gray blurs around them.
"Who are you?"
Imhotep faced the mirror image of himself. It still glowed. And it smiled at him and stood. Imhotep knew instantly what he was.
My immortality.
It led Imhotep the rest of the way, to the edge of the abyss, where Amaya's voice was clear and distinct and inviting. And Imhotep turned and watched as his immortality dissolved into the physical body that was waiting for him on the other side. All that was left now was him, the soul.
He threw himself towards the voice of his goddess.
And awoke in her arms. He felt life trickling into his limbs, breath filling his lungs. He opened his eyes and her jade green gaze met his in silence. They were not in the bazaar anymore. How much time had passed? It didn't matter. Amaya was with him.
"I love you," he told her, voice breaking with lack of use. She smiled that breathtaking smile, and leaned down and pressed her lips softly against his. And when she leaned back, another beautiful smile appeared in his line of vision.
"Hi daddy," Azana said in a whisper, leaning over the hospital bed's guard rails to kiss him on the cheek. Her hair was a bit longer, but other than that, no significant signs of growth. Which meant that he'd only lost a few weeks, or months at worst.
"Three weeks," Amaya said. Imhotep grinned at her. "Coma," she added, lacing her fingers into his and giving his hand a squeeze. Her touch poured strength into his body. "I love you," she whispered. And she helped him sit up to view the sunny hospital room. He ignored the stiff muscles, and the ghost pain of his wounds. They didn't matter. He was alive, he had the woman he loved and the daughter he cherished at his side. And it was going to stay like that forever. So he looked over at mother and daughter and grinned.
"So how about that tour of Egypt?"