Disclaimer: I absolutely, positively, do not own Star Trek: Voyager. But, considering I'm pretty sure you all knew that already, let's just get on with the story.

A/N: My first P/T fic! Lots and lots of special thanks to the amazing BonesBird who willingly listens to (and joins in on) my Star Trek rants and rambles and makes me think I'm not completely insane...yet. Secondly, this fic has a companion piece...written by BonesBird. It's from Janeway's POV and is called 'Helping Hand'.

He'd been shocked at first. The sight of the woman he loved as she was brought into sickbay didn't compare to the images he'd been imagining for the last few hours. Nothing could have prepared him. Even knowing what to expect, what had happened...it apparently hadn't helped him except the truth of the matter.

He'd been waiting for her in sickbay. As soon as they'd beamed the away team back aboard he'd practically ran to meet them, barely sparing Chakotay a glance as the First Officer nodded his consent for Tom to leave.

And then they'd been brought in.

Tuvok first, the vulcan seemingly unconscious and being supported by two Security personnel, followed by the Captain as Lt. Nicoletti guided her into the room. Then B'Elanna.

Or what was left of her.

His eyes had immediately locked on to the small frame being lead into sickbay behind the others. Her head was bent, but he could just make out the familiar ridges even though they now had a sickly hue. He barely remembered rushing over to her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and helping to take her to one of the biobeds. By the time she was laying down her eyes were closed, some of the harshness leaving her features while she slept.

The hour that past after that had been chaotic to say the least. Between him and the Doctor they stabilized Tuvok and then began the procedures to remove the borg implants. They weren't nearly done yet, but things were finally starting to slow down now that the away team were officially safe and out of danger.

He was just running a tricorder over the Captain, every few seconds glancing over at the other biobed where B'Elanna still slept, when Captain Janeway spoke for the first time since returning to Voyager.

"Go over there, Tom."

The sound of her raspy, barely recognizable voice surprised him enough that he nearly dropped the tricorder. He immediately looked down, just in time to see her glancing pointedly over to the biobed on her other side where B'Elanna lay. "Go." She croaked out once more, a small smile forming on her pale face that seemed to take away from the foreboding machinery still attached to her skull.

Tom didn't need to be told a third time. With a brief nod of his head and one last shared look with his Captain he walked around the biobed until he was standing over B'Elanna.

It was the first time he'd really gotten the chance to look at her. Things had been so hectic that other then his initial observations he hadn't really seen her. And if he were honest, he hadn't wanted to see her...not like this. This cold, unmoving shell wasn't the woman he knew.

He just wanted her to jump off the biobed and start fiddling with some circuit board while throwing insults at him left and right. That was the woman he knew. The passionate, energetic, and bossy half-klingon that always made him smile and kept him on his toes when all he wanted to do was collapse.

He glanced up, not wanting to stare down at the lifeless shell anymore, and noticed Captain Janeway turned awkwardly on her side so part of her back was facing him. Her eyes were shut, but she was obviously still awake. Probably just her attempt to give him and B'Elanna what little privacy she could under the circumstances.

"Tom?"

If he'd still been holding that tricorder he probably would have dropped it this time. The harsh, metallic like voice was so...un-B'Elanna like that he nearly didn't look down. However, when he finally did he felt a warm smile spreading over his face.

Staring up at him through half-closed eyes was B'Elanna Torres. Everything else could change, but those eyes...those were the eyes that gave him hope and guided him through life. Her skin might be cold and dull, her hair gone, but everything that made her...her was written right there in those deep, spirited eyes for him to see.

He hadn't lost her. And as he stared down into the passion filled eyes he knew so well, he realized he never would. "Rest, B'Elle. Everything's okay." He whispered, bringing his hand up to gently cup her cheek and running his thumb over her skin in a soothing motion.

A small smile tugged at her lips and within seconds she was sound asleep again. He didn't move his hand, didn't even glance up when the Doctor started working on the Captain. Instead he just kept watch over the woman who still possessed the other half of his heart, despite the cold form that had tried to tell him differently.

A/N: Thanks for reading! What did you think? And don't forget to check out BonesBird's companion, 'Helping Hand'!