The Doctor insists on taking me back to sickbay for an examination, even though we all know what happened and that it is over now. I have to let him think that I listen to him. When the shuttle pulls into the landing bay, Tuvok immediately nods and heads off in the direction of the bridge – while we have been gone, Tom is in command and I know that Tuvok is uneasy at such an arrangement. The Doctor disappears and I know that he has taken himself off to sickbay to wait for me.
Chakotay doesn't speak as he helps me to stand up and walk. I could probably do it by myself but I'm not going to argue when he has his arms around me, his large, golden hands holding mine. As we make our way slowly to sickbay, I can feel his warm breath on my neck and I half wish that I could turn around and taste it. I'm surprised to feel that his arms are trembling as we make our way along the corridor. My angry warrior isn't really that angry at all anymore, just confused at the way I treat him, hold him at arms length. Not now though. At this very moment I want to melt into his powerful body and never come out. I can't forget the look on his face, the way his voice cracked, when I 'died'. I know it was only an illusion but that doesn't matter when you know in your heart that he really does feel that way about you. And you feel that way about him. If I could close my eyes and make all the Starfleet protocol disappear, I would. I would do anything to make my angry warrior happy.
In sickbay a few minutes later, Chakotay helps me onto a bed and I know that I hold onto his hand slightly too long. He gives me a sheepish grin and goes to sit on another bed a few feet away, watching as always. The Doctor fusses around me, scanning and logging all the necessary data to make his mind rest at ease with a job well done. Every time the Doctor treats me, it amazes me that he is, for want of a better description, just a computer programme. I know that I ignore him and laugh about him but I would do that with any doctor – he takes it personally but he really shouldn't. I have a lot of admiration for the Doctor and it doesn't matter that I know most of his concern for me is built in to his programme. Some of it isn't. Over the years we have helped him become more human that I think even he imagined would be possible. This is a hologram with compassion and humanity and love. As far as we are concerned, he isn't a hologram at all anymore.
"Well captain, I think that you're rid of all alien life forms," he murmurs, his eyes on the tricorder as he double checks the scans, "But please, at least rest for the remainder of the day. I am taking you off duty until 0700 tomorrow morning."
"Now, Doctor, I really don't think that is necessary."
"Come on," Chakotay is there to help me off the bed, "You can stay in your Ready Room but you aren't allowed to do anything except read and write reports."
He looks at the Doctor, "A good enough compromise, Doctor?"
"Commander Chakotay, whatever I say it will be ignored, so please take the captain away before I lose all of my self belief and lock myself away in a fit of despair."
***
Later on, sat behind my desk with a pile of reports and a very large cup of coffee, I stop for a moment and listen to the sounds of the bridge. Chakotay's voice is muffled and I can hardly hear what he is saying, he talks so quietly. Tuvok is easier to pick out and so is Tom, his sing song voice different from the rest in every way. Young Harry is closest to my room, so most of what is going on I get from what he is saying. I like listening to my bridge crew. It gives me an enormous sense of reassurance to know that if I had died or was going to die, they would be alright without me. They would survive in one way or another.
The chime rings and, without waiting for an answer, Tuvok walks in.
"Hello, captain. Are you well?"
"Quite well, Tuvok. Did Chakotay send you in?"
The commander has been in to check on me six times and I have told him that I will throw him in the brig if he comes in again, so this is his new plan.
"I must admit that he did, although I was not going to say no if the opportunity arose."
His voice catches and I realise that he is struggling to say something distinctly un-Vulcan. However many times that I tell Tuvok he doesn't have to try and give me the emotional reassurance that parries between human friends, he is always pushing himself to do just that. I think that he finds it a challenge.
"It was – worrying," he begins slowly, "To think that I may lose a dear friend."
He looks at me, acknowledging the tiny tear that has settled in the corner of my eye.
"Thank you Tuvok. You don't know what that means to me."
He nods and leaves.
I have never known how to tell Tuvok that I know exactly what he is thinking. People think that Vulcans are devoid of emotion but they are not. All they do is push it down until it is unrecognizable as emotion but it is still there. I always know what Tuvok is thinking and feeling. If Tuvok is upset, the room has an unbearable black cloud hanging over it, even if he looks quite placid and detached. I know what he feels about our friendship – when he is near me, he stands so close that I can feel his body heat, especially when we are in a dangerous situation. He thinks that I don't know, but I do.
Chakotay thinks that I don't love him, but I do.
The Doctor thinks I don't care but I do.
Sometimes, I wish I could tell them.