Author's Note: I originally meant this fanfic to be a one-shot focusing on B'Elanna's struggle with losing Tom and Chakotay in a single instant. But, after talking to Alpha Flyer, I realized that this fic has way too much potential to pass up. Thus, the 2nd chapter. Keep on the lookout for a 3rd-I'm planning on finishing it in the next chapter. Thanks, Alpha Flyer, for the inspiration & encouragement! I'm having fun with this fic.
Day 226, Tom
One hundred fifty-six. One hundred fifty-six. That's how many days it'd been since he'd last seen B'Elanna.
Tom thumped his fist against the bulkhead, shoving himself away from where he'd been leaning against its smooth surface.
And not just B'Elanna. All of them. Harry, Neelix, Janeway, Seven, the Doctor—even Tuvok. One hundred fifty-six days.
He stared at the smooth gray surface of the bulkhead, contemplating its unblemished appearance. The familiar bitter anger welled inside his chest, making it hard to see straight.
Why was it that these—these monsters—were free to roam the quadrant, erasing entire civilizations from existence, just so their race could rise to power once more? What gave them the right to destroy billions upon billions of lives without so much as batting an eyelash?
He hurled his forearm against the wall once more, taking comfort in the sharp pain of bone colliding with seamless metal. For a brief moment, he smiled, and the shortest of laughs escaped his throat. If only B'Elanna could see him now. She would accuse him of getting in touch with his "inner Klingon."
The old ache pierced his heart, and he sobered abruptly. How many times had he teased her about her Klingon genes? How many times had she shot him that half-glare, half-smile of hers that fascinated him so? How long had it been since he'd looked deep into the soft brown of her eyes, right down to her heart, and told her that he loved her?
He didn't even know anymore.
He missed her. Oh, how he missed her!
"I've stopped the internal bleeding. You're going to be okay." He said the words more for his benefit than hers.
"Is that your—expert medical opinion?" she panted, bravely trying to smile through her tears. The effort proved too much, and she gasped, her face convulsing with pain.
"I know it still hurts…" Her cry sent a bolt of lightning through his heart, and he anxiously ran the tricorder over her prone body. "Severed spinal cord. I'll see what I can do."
"Mr. Paris, I need your assistance."
"I'll be there in a minute," he replied, shoving away the anger the Doctor's impatience stirred in him.
"Now, Mr. Paris! In case you haven't noticed, B'Elanna is not the only one in need of medical assistance. Triage is…" The EMH continued his discourse, but Tom quit listening.
Closing the tricorder, he slipped his fingers around B'Elanna's hand, leaning close to her. She looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears.
She was so willful, so stubborn. And yet so strong and beautiful. Even now, lying on a make-shift stretcher with soot streaking her face and dirt coating her uniform, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. His heart throbbed within him, and he swallowed. Hard.
"I'll be right back," he promised, pressing his lips to her hand.
And then he'd left.
That had been the last opportunity he'd had to talk to her, the last time he'd looked into her eyes and told her "I love you" without ever opening his mouth.
And that had been…one hundred seventy-nine days ago.
Tom blinked. "Computer, locate Commander Chakotay."
"Commander Chakotay is on the Bridge."
If it hadn't been for the harsh, metallic voice and unfamiliar surroundings, Tom could've believed he was back on Voyager. But he wasn't, and that was all that mattered. Turning quickly, Tom exited the room, heading for the Bridge.
It was time to make good on his promise to B'Elanna.
