Author: Caeyle
Rating: PG
Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager
Category: Angst, AU
Pairing: Chakotay/Paris
Summary: Tom's death as seen through Janeway's eyes. Light/almost non-existent slash Warnings: Slash, character death
Notes: I wrote a C/P story. Okay, so it's a pathetic excuse for a story, but it was twelve in the night when I wrote it. And all the stories I think of are short. I can't help it.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
I've watched them from day one. They hated each other at first. Enemies. What was your price this time, Paris? Had hated each other for a long time. Maquis warrior confronting Maquis traitor. Or so Chakotay had thought. Then Tom saved Chakotay's life, and Chakotay began to see who Tom Paris really was, past all the disguises and reputations and falsehoods that grew around his name. Things began to change. They start playing pool together. Tom becomes more open, Chakotay becomes more relaxed. They talk, they joke, they eat lunch together. It all started building up, slowly, until no one was surprised at how well they got along. They were just friends, and it felt as if they had been friends from the beginning. Harry felt jealous and left out sometimes, although he tried not to show it. After all, they both had troubled pasts, painful secrets—so alike. And then it happened.
Tom was piloting a shuttlecraft down to a planet: an easy mission. I wouldn't have even sent him, but he begged to go, out of boredom, he said. He was an expert pilot, and if everything had gone as planned, it would have been a quick, safe voyage. But something caught him by surprise as he entered the planet's atmosphere. He crash-landed on the planet. I remember panicked words coming over the comm link, then a horrified scream, the impact of the shuttlecraft hitting the planet, then… nothing. Not because the link broke. Surprisingly, the communication system ad suffered no damage on the way down. No, the silence was because there was no one to answer. Everyone froze; the bridge was so silent one could have heard a pin drop. Even Tuvok looked shaken.
"Tom?" Chakotay was trying to get a response from a dead man. But he couldn't be dead, could he? Tom, so full of life, so spirited. He couldn't be dead. But he was. Chakotay was echoing the disbelief everyone felt. Hoping against all logic that somehow Tom had survived. But no one could have survived that crash. "Tom? Paris, come in. Come in! Tom! Dammit, respond!" He was shouting now, fists clenched tightly.
"Chakotay," I said gently, standing up next to him, "he's not going to respond." He's not going to come back. But I didn't quite believe it myself, then. He could he die now? He had been given a second chance, a new life, out here in the Delta Quadrant. And he had used it to its fullest. Just now, when everything was going well for him… no, he couldn't be. It was impossible.
Reality hit in two days later, when we watched his after-death tape during his funeral. It started, "Well, I guess I'm dead now…" That's when the tears started. How could he be dead, when he was so animated on the view screen, all of his humour and jokes intact? But he was, and that was all I could think of. It was like stepping into a cold water shower. He's dead… he's dead… he's dead… I felt as if all sound had been muted. I could only see his brilliant personality shining through even though it was only an image, and a grim one at that. He's dead… he's dead… what am I going to tell the Admiral? I was numb with shock, and my thoughts were too incoherent for me to realise that Admiral Paris was millions of miles away. He's dead…
Then suddenly he smiled, like the sun breaking fog, jolting me into my senses. He hadn't even smiled like that when he was talking to Harry. "Chakotay." I involuntarily turned my head to look at Chakotay. He was shaking visibly, looking as if he wanted to bury his head in his hands and forget about the rest of the world, but he couldn't tear his gaze from the screen. "You know what I would say to you, but I'll say it one more time, in case you forgot. Even," and he grinned, "though you say you have the memory of an elephant. Firstly, don't kill yourself over my death. You're supposed to be happy, remember? And, well, just take care of yourself, okay? Live long and prosper and all that." He grinned again. It was so easy to forget he wasn't dead, and it was so hard to forget that he was dead. "At least you won't have to clean up after me anymore. And…" he faltered, suddenly solemn, with a fiercely loving expression, "Thanks for everything. I love you, Chak. Goodbye." Then the screen went black, and it all fell into place. The looks, the touches, the amount of time they seemed to spend together, the bond they seemed to share…
Silently, the crew left the room. Chakotay didn't move. He stood, head in his arms, leaning his elbows on the wall. Broken. How many times had he been like this? He had gone through so much to find happiness, and now he had lost it again. Both of them had. Except Tom wasn't here to feel it. It was true, what they said about it being harder for the living than for the dead.
I stroked his back comfortingly, trying to check my own tears. He was shaking so hard he could almost be having a seizure. "It's all right," I whispered, since I didn't trust my voice, "I'll be alright…"
But it wouldn't be, would it? Because he was dead.
END 1/2/02