Chakotay caught up with Paris on his way to sickbay. "Let me walk you to sickbay?" he asked.
"Whatever," Paris hardly glanced at him.
They walked in silence for a bit. Tom looked angry but pale.
"I know I lost my cool back there." Paris finally spoke. "I didn't plan to."
Chakotay simply nodded.
"I'm so mad at Janeway right now," Paris continued.
"That's quite apparent."
"I wish I could tell you what happened but…"
"She told me." Chakotay revealed.
"What?" Tom stopped walking abruptly and faced Chakotay.
"So she told you, before she even said a word to me! Boy, this just gets better and better! I wonder who else knows? So when exactly was she planning to tell me? I'll take a guess: never! It seems everyone on this ship knows more about me than I do – especially the Captain! Well, screw her!"
"Paris! Let's not jump to conclusions. She didn't plan to tell me. She only told me just then, after your little scene in the mess hall. I'd say she kept this from everyone, not just you Paris. The question is, why? I'm sure she has an explanation." Chakotay was confused about the Captain's motives, but he was trying to take his own advice and not jump to any conclusions of his own.
"Why? I'll tell you why. Because she thought she could! And because she didn't want to lose my loyalty!"
"Has she?"
They arrived at sickbay, and before Paris could answer, the EMH appeared before them.
"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," the EMH recited automatically - until he saw Tom Paris. "No need to explain," he immediately grabbed his medical tricorder. "I'm so glad to see you Mr Paris!" the Doctor seemed genuinely relieved.
"Never thought I'd hear you say that Doc," Tom admitted wryly, trying to glance at Chakotay to see if he had noticed the Doctor's tone.
The doctor immediately started scanning him with his medical tricorder. "Let me check that your injuries have been healing as they should."
Chakotay noticed that the EMH began scanning, not Paris's temple which had been injured on the Bridge, but his chest.
"I've been worried Mr Paris. I've been waiting for you all morning. I know I didn't specifically ask you to check in, but the Captain told me she'd make sure you would…"
"Can't you just be honest with me Doc?" Tom pushed his medical scanner aside in annoyance. "I know what happened, okay?"
"You know?" the EMH looked up at the lieutenant, and the Commander beside him.
"I've known since last night." Paris admitted.
"And you Commander?"
"Janeway told me just now," Chakotay added.
"Really? Well that's a relief! I'm glad she's told you both. Now we can all be honest at last hmm?" the Doctor smiled with satisfaction.
"I wish," Paris said ruefully. "I didn't find out from the Captain. I only know what happened because I opened my medical file last night. I confronted her about it in the mess hall just now. Chakotay was with us, so she was kind of forced to tell him."
"Oh dear," the Doctor frowned, "not the way I would have had you find out."
Paris nodded bitterly, his face pale and weary.
"I'm disappointed by this news," the Doctor frowned deeper, resetting his medical tricorder, "I was sure she wanted to tell you herself, so I promised I wouldn't…" he began scanning Paris's body again, "I should never have agreed to…" The Doctor's tricorder, scanning over Paris's heart, started beeping urgently "…let you leave sickbay! Mr Paris your heart rate is much too rapid. Sit down immediately." He pushed Tom onto the biobed. "Commander, pass me that hypospray."
At that moment Harry Kim burst into sickbay.
"Tom! I heard from the astrometrics team that you had some kind of argument in the mess hall, is this true? They said you're in big trouble with the Captain!"
"Oh yeah?" Paris rose and turned to the ensign. "Or maybe it's the Captain who's in trouble with me!"
"What?" Kim was shocked by the pale rage burning in Tom's face. Things were even worse than he feared.
"Please Mr Paris, try to stay calm," the Doctor demanded quietly, still monitoring his heart rate. His hand on the pilot's shoulder gently coaxed him to take a seat on the biobed again. Chakotay had passed him the hypospray and the Doctor quickly administered two shots causing Paris to draw a quick breath.
"Tom," the ensign begged his friend, "tell me what happened!"
"Can we leave the gossip for later Ensign Kim?" the Doctor raised his voice, before Tom had a chance to respond. "Mr Paris is unwell. He needs to rest. So unless your conversation is going to have a calming effect on my patient, which I doubt, I'd prefer you to step aside!"
Harry was taken aback.
"Do as he says," Chakotay advised.
At that moment Janeway strode into sickbay, and they all turned toward her. "I'm here to speak with Paris," she announced.
"Here we go. I'm going to do now what I should have done last night," the Doctor mumbled to Paris and Chakotay, then turned to address Janeway. "Captain, you may discuss whatever you want with Mr Paris - but not until his heart rate is stabilised," the Doctor told her. "I won't let you overrule me this time. Doctor's orders."
The Captain was shocked. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise…"
Chakotay walked over to her. "Captain, come with me. We need to talk about this. It may as well be now."
"I know we do. All right," Janeway sighed. She and Chakotay went into the Doctor's office and shut the door. Paris and Kim could still see them through the soundproof glass windows.
"What are they talking about?" Kim asked. "And what's wrong with your heart?" He noticed the EMH was still hovering around Tom with his instruments.
"Well Harry, they're talking about me." Tom told him, his voice sounding more tired than angry now.
"Arguing, more like," Harry Kim observed. Chakotay appeared to be confronting the Captain in his calm firm manner, but Harry sensed he was restraining anger. Janeway appeared flustered, shaking her head and gesticulating with shaking hands. "It looks bad," Harry noted, shaking his head.
"You think? Oh man," Tom said despairingly, "I wish I hadn't said the things I said to the Captain in the mess hall. I wish I hadn't said anything! Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut? This time, she's going to kill me for sure. Doc, why didn't you just let me die?" The EMH was not amused.
And your heart?" Harry asked again. "What's wrong with your heart Tom?"
"Okay, enough with the questions Harry. Ask the Doc, not me. I'm not supposed to know anyhow. And I'm beginning to wish I'd never found out!" Tom winced and screwed his eyes shut. He was awfully pale, and his hands gripping the edge of the biobed were white-knuckled.
"Alright," Harry was confused. "Doc?" he looked over at the EMH who was now busy calibrating his surgical tools. The hologram only glanced at him in annoyance and focussed his attention on his patient.
"Lie down, Mr Paris," the Doctor commanded softly, but firmly.
"Is that necessary?" Tom's voice was shaky.
"Yes," the Doctor said simply.
Tom sighed and did as he was told. He lay down on the biobed, feeling almost dizzy, like he was spinning through space. "Woah," he felt his panic rising. He was in the asteroid belt again, but the controls were slipping from his hands.
"Take deep breaths Tom," the EMH told him, whilst fitting canisters into a hypospray. "Relax, and breathe." Tom's shaky breaths slowly became deeper. "That's better," the Doctor encouraged.
"This is serious isn't it," Harry had surmised from Janeway and Chakotay's body language through the soundproof windows, from Tom's pale face and increasingly shaky breathing, and from the EMH's deep concern which was obvious by the change from his normally brusque bedside manner.
Finally the Doctor spoke to him, without taking his eyes off Tom. "Mr Paris's heart was damaged during the shock wave in the aftermath of the nova. I repaired the damage last night, but at least a full day of rest is necessary before the healing is complete. Of course Mr Paris here has spent the last 24 hours doing everything but resting, from what I've heard: partying, drinking, playing pool, turning up to a shift on the Bridge, starting scenes in the mess hall, and who knows what else!"
"Hey!" Tom opened his eyes. "Maybe if someone had taken the time to explain this to me properly…all I knew is what I read…"
"Calm down Tom. Nobody's blaming you!" the Doctor gently pushed Tom back against the biobed.
"Like hell you're not!" Tom's blue eyes were angry and hurt. "Does Janeway expect me just to be grateful to be alive? Well maybe I would be if I were told!" he continued as the Doctor hovered over him with his tricorder. "What angers me is that I've been kept in the dark. How do you expect me to behave, huh? Like it's just another day in the office?!"
"Tom, you wanted my honesty, so here it is: I think your anger toward the Captain - and myself - is perfectly justified," the EMH admitted, calibrating his hypospray. "For my part, I regret my decision to go along with the Captain's wishes not to inform you fully. I'm truly sorry. But regardless of your feelings or their justifications, right now, you need to calm down. Your condition is serious and this anger is causing you to deteriorate rapidly. If I am to save your life (again), I need you to save your anger for later time – which you will hopefully have. I need you to calm down. Preferably without resorting to more drugs. Can you do that?"
Tom collapsed back to the bed in defeat. Everything swirled and started to go dark. "Oh God!" Tom moaned faintly. He remembered collapsing at the helm, the Captain leaning over him, the nova, about to expode, lighting up the viewscreen above him. But now it was the Doctor leaning over him, pressing a hypospray firmly to his neck and saying gently, "I'll take that as a no." Harry was beside him too. "Stay with us Tom," he implored.
"Where exactly would I go?" Tom replied faintly, "to hell?"
"It's possible," the Doctor conceded, not unkindly. "Hopefully it won't come to that. If it does, I'll just have to bring you back - again."
Harry glanced at the EMH in alarm. "Tom's going to be okay, right Doc?"
"He will, if I have any say in the matter. If only I'd stuck to my guns instead of listening to Captain Janeway last night, he wouldn't be in this mess right now!" The EMH placed his hand on Tom's forehead. "Mr Paris," he said calm, but serious. "Are you listening?"
"Yeah," Tom breathed, his blue eyes opening and focusing slowly. "Yeah, what is it Doc? I feel strange, like I'm floating in a vacuum."
"You're heart's not operating as it should."
"No kidding."
"I'll activate the biobed. I'm going to have to operate again. Immediately. Mr Kim will stay here and assist me." The Doctor glanced at Harry who looked alarmed.
"I don't have medical training! What will I have to do?" Harry asked.
"Don't look so alarmed Ensign. I'm not asking you to do rocket science, it's just heart surgery! Besides, I'll be conducting the surgery. All you have to do is stay and talk to Mr Paris. You seem to be doing that anyway. If fact I hardly seem able to stop you!"
"Talk to Tom? You mean he'll be awake?"
"Of course. Unless it goes wrong. It's only minor surgery, using intersecting infrared beams to block the damaged blood vessels. When Tom's heart rate stabilises, we'll know it has worked. Now stay with Mr Paris, Ensign, while I get my instruments."
Tom focused his eyes on Harry. "It's okay Harry," Tom told him faintly. "The Doc knows what he's doing."
Harry leaned in close so that he could hear, and smiled uncertainly. "Hey, I'm supposed to be consoling you, not the other way around."
The doctor returned with his instruments and began the operation, motioning for Harry to continue a conversation with Tom. "You may feel some slight discomfort," he warned Paris. "So I hope Mr Kim will keep you distracted."
"So how was the pool tournament last night?" Tom asked Harry softly.
"It was okay. The engineering team won. Janeway's game seemed a little off, actually. I don't think she was concentrating."
"Really? She seemed perfectly able to concentrate on the bridge earlier even when I was practically bleeding to…ouch!" Tom winced in pain.
"I'm sorry Mr Paris. Ensign Kim, you'd be more helpful to if you choose a topic that does not involve Captain Janeway," the EMH advised.
"Okay," Harry took the advise on board. "What did you think of Neelix's latest concoction? That soup wasn't too bad."
"I didn't try any."
"Why not?"
"I guess I was too busy yelling at Janeway. Chakotay seemed to be enjoying it, though. Ouch! Doc! That really hurts!"
"Almost done," the Doctor said.
"How'd B'Elanna pull up this morning Harry? She sure was enjoying herself last night." Paris desperately tried to keep the conversation going, to distract himself. He was feeling weaker and more vulnerable to the pain from the Doctor's instruments.
"You haven't seen Torres?" Harry asked. "I thought… I thought you guys were meeting for lunch?"
"Oh shit!" Paris's eyes rolled back.
"I'm sorry," the EMH apologised automatically. "That was the last artery to repair. The surgery is over now. Your heart rate is stabilising." But this time Paris's outburst was not caused by the surgery.
"What's the time?" Paris asked weakly. "She must be waiting for me. Doc, I have to leave."
The EMH placed his hand consolingly on the pilot's shoulder, surveying his condition. The surgery had taken a toll. Tom's heart was beating normally, but he was extremely fatigued. This time the EMH did not want to take any chances. "Absolutely not Mr Paris. You are staying here until you are fully recovered and rested. No amount of persuasion will influence me this time."
"But what about my lunch date with B'Elanna Torres?" Paris asked sleepily.
The EMH met his gaze with a wry smile. "A date with a Klingon, Mr Paris, is not my idea of rest. I'm sorry. You're staying here."
Paris's eyes fell shut. "He's sleeping," the Doctor informed a concerned Harry Kim. "The surgery was successful. Thank you for staying Ensign."
"I better go find B'Elanna," Harry decided, heading for the door. "If she thinks Tom stood her up, she's going to be real mad!"
