To The Journey

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

Chapter Fifty-Two: Look Away From The Past

Tom leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. After hours of chaos, Sickbay was finally quiet. Even the Doctor had retreated to his office, within earshot but out of sight, seeming to sense that the newly-expanded family needed some time alone. If he had thought that, Tom mused, he'd been right. Even with B'Elanna and Miral asleep, there was no place in the world Tom would rather be.

He couldn't stop a groan as the Sickbay door hissed open again. "That better be someone needing medical attention," he grumbled. "Who's -"

But the last word died on his lips as he saw the man standing just inside the doorway. Even in the dim light, he'd know that figure anywhere. "Hello, Tom."

"D-dad?" he stammered out.

Without another word, the Admiral opened his arms to his son. Tom stepped into them, equally silent, his eyes shimmering with tears he wouldn't - he couldn't - let fall. He relished the open affection that had come so sparsely in the last years before his departure on Voyager that he had started to wonder if his father was even capable of it anymore.

"I'm so sorry, Tom," the older man whispered into his son's hair. "So sorry. You can't imagine -" he stopped abruptly, and Tom realized in surprise that his father was also struggling not to cry.

He began again after a few moments, his voice still shaky. "My son, my only son. For so long, I thought you were gone forever, and I - all I could think was that the last words I'd ever said to you were so full of anger and venom. All I could think was that you'd died thinking I didn't love you." The words weren't easy to get out, and yet, it felt so good to finally say them. "But I do, Tom. I love you so much."

The pilot tried to keep a hold of his emotions. He really did. But those soft words were too much. A sob formed in his throat, broke free before he could contain it, and then a few traitorous tears slipped from his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly to hold back any more tears and to shield himself from the disappointment he knew he'd see in his father's face. Then he felt a hand gently come up around the back of his head, bringing it down into a firm shoulder.

"It's all right, Tom. There's nothing to be sorry for." The Admiral shook his head sadly, still holding his son close. "This is my fault too, isn't it? All this - I just didn't want to see you get hurt. But you did, and worse, I was the one doing the hurting."

What he was saying was so different than what Tom was expecting that he could only stare at his father. "Why?"

"Because - because I know how hard it's been for you." He pressed his forehead to his son's, looking deep into his eyes. "You're an Admiral's son, as was I. I know how people can flock to you with the intent to take advantage. I wanted you to be strong because I was afraid that people would see any vulnerability as one more thing they could exploit. And then later, I got so caught up in my own expectations that I forgot to stop and think about what you needed. I know this may be hard to believe, but with the exception of those horrible words I said after Caldik, I never, never meant to hurt you. And I can't express how much I regret that one time that I spoke deliberately to hurt you. You are my son, you always have been, but in that moment, I know I wasn't much of a father."

The pilot's eyes filled with tears again, and the Admiral pulled him back into his arms. He held his son close as if he were still a child. "It's all right, it's okay. Let it out."

A few hitching sobs escaped his lips, and then he couldn't hold the tears back anymore. He broke down and cried in his father's arms, one thing he hadn't dared to do since he was a very young child. And his father held him and rubbed his back.

Tears were stinging the Admiral's eyes too. He had meant what he said about only wanting to protect his children; it was only here, standing in Voyager's sickbay after not seeing Tom for the better part of a decade, that he was realizing how much he had hurt his son. "Oh, Tom, I'm so sorry," he whispered again. "So sorry. I never saw how much you were hurting, and there's no excuse for that."

"I only ever wanted you to be proud of me," he whispered through his tears.

"I am," the Admiral assured him quickly. "I am so proud of you."

No more words needed to be spoken, and they stood and held each other for a long time. The embrace was only broken when a third voice cut in. "Hey, flyboy, I'm over here. You know, your wife? The one who just had a baby?"

"B'Elanna." He spoke the name almost reverently as he broke the embrace with his father to run to her side. "How could I forget? You feeling any better?"

"A little. That stuff the Doctor gave me really works." She looked past him to the older man standing in the middle of Sickbay. "Admiral Paris, I presume?"

"Call me Owen," he corrected gently. "You're family now."

"You should've come earlier," she said, pushing herself up to a sitting position with Tom's help. "It was practically a party in here."

"So I heard, and believe me, I was tempted. But I didn't think that was the best situation in which to meet you and my new granddaughter, or to reacquaint myself with my son." He moved closer to them, putting a hand on Tom's back. "Also, I thought I should warn you, your mother and Moira will likely be here first thing in the morning."

"I'm shocked they haven't been here already," he replied wryly, getting smiles from both his father and his wife.

The Admiral grew serious after a few moments. "They understood that I wanted to see you first, that we needed to talk." Then he smiled again. "But now that we have, I doubt anything will keep them away."

A sudden wail interrupted them, and Tom hurried over to a small unit that was against the wall, reaching in to pick up Miral. "You wanted to meet your granddaughter?"

Miral settled down almost instantly once she was in the pilot's arms, and Owen walked over to them, carefully extending a hand to the baby. She looked up as though examining this newcomer and then reached up her own tiny hand to grab his finger.

A smile unlike anything Tom remembered seeing crossed the older man's face. "She's beautiful, Tom."

"She's perfect," he agreed, looking past his father to lock eyes with B'Elanna. He knew that his wife had had a long, hard road in coming to terms with the idea that their baby would have Klingon features. But he'd assured her that it didn't matter to him at all, that he would love to have a baby (and someday more than just one) who was just like her mother. And after seeing Miral for the first time, he was even more certain of that fact than he had been. Perfect wasn't enough of a word to describe his daughter.

And B'Elanna was smiling back, and he could see in her eyes that she finally fully believed him. Perfect. Not just his baby. His whole family.

xxxxxxxxx

"I will do it, Doctor. I am compatible."

Tasha stopped short in the door of the Sickbay. She hadn't even expected to see Asil there; she'd been looking for Tom and his family. And what exactly was it that Asil was offering to do?

"Compatible for what?" she asked, getting right to the heart of the matter. If it had been a professional matter, something she wanted to do as an engineer, that last sentence would have made no sense.

"Commander!" the Doctor said a little too loudly, looking up. "I didn't hear you come in."

"So I gathered," she said wryly. "You also didn't answer my question."

"He is bound by the rules of medical confidentiality," Asil reminded her. "I, however, am not," she added, with the same slight shift in her expression that always appeared when she used logic and exact words in that way. "Our father is ill," she told Tasha.

"What?" For a moment, it felt like she couldn't breathe. How bad could an illness be that it would require a pronouncement like that? "And what does this have to do with you?" she added once she could speak again. "What are you compatible for? What are you offering to do?"

"His disorder is neurological," Asil explained. "The treatment requires a very specific mind-meld with another Vulcan, for which a specific mental compatibility is required. As I said, I am compatible." She turned back to the Doctor. "We can begin immediately."

"Is she always this stubborn?" the Doctor asked no one in particular.

Tasha answered anyway. "Pretty much. I'm afraid that's partly my influence."

"And partly her father's, I'm sure," he replied. "After seven years, this stubbornness is very familiar." He gave an exaggerated sigh. "That said, she does have a point. While a few days aren't going to make a difference, it is in Mr. Tuvok's best interest that the treatment take place as soon as possible. However, now that we have the option, I am going to recommend that the treatment take place at Starfleet Medical facilities."

Asil nodded, but Tasha was suddenly frozen, able only to picture the Vulcan woman as she had been the last time she'd been at Starfleet Medical, on that first day, unconscious and connected to multiple machines, the grafts the doctors had had to place over her badly burned skin plainly visible. As long as she lived, Tasha would never forget that horrifying sight.

"Commander? Commander!"

The Doctor was talking directly to her now, and she realized, a little abashed, that she had completely lost track of what was happening around her. "Sorry. Bad memories, guess I got lost for a minute. So, when will you be doing the treatment?"

"Not immediately," he said, with a tone that suggested he had said as much during the part of the conversation she had missed. "Starfleet Command wants to debrief everyone first, and anything that even suggests that his memories could have been altered will send them all into conniption fits. But he's third up after Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay, and as soon as Command is satisfied that they have everything they need from him, we'll start the treatment. If there are arrangements to be made," he added to Asil, "you'd best make them as soon as possible."

"My supervisor has already informed me that he expected me to request vacation time as a result of Voyager's return, and has already granted me three weeks of time peremptorily," she replied crisply. "We can begin as soon as you determine the time is right."

"There is one more thing," the Doctor added, a little more softly. "There is always some risk with this type of procedure. I would advise that you wait for your family to arrive - if not for personal reasons," he added, seeming to remember belatedly that he was talking to a Vulcan, "then at least so that you have someone there to make decisions in the unlikely event that something goes wrong."

"Understood, Doctor."

"Can I help you with something, Commander?"

"What?" It was only then that Tasha remembered that she had come into Sickbay for a different reason altogether. "I'm looking for Tom."

"I released Lieutenant Torres and the baby to their quarters this morning. I presume he went with them; he seemed reluctant to let either one of them out of his sight." He got an odd expression on his face. "Actually, I think he'd appreciate a visit."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing medical," the Doctor assured her quickly. "As for what it is - well, it's really not my place to say, but you're welcome to ask him yourself. You seem very close; I think he'd tell you."

xxxxxxxxx

"This disorder - just how serious is it?" Tasha asked Asil as they walked through the corridors of Voyager.

"That is - a complicated question," the Vulcan replied. "At advanced stages, it can cause permanent brain damage. However, judging by what Father and the Doctor have both told me, it would be several years before we reached that point. At this early stage, it is fully treatable, and a single treatment will cure the disease with few if any lasting effects."

"And the risks?"

"Negligible. Of course, there is some risk, in that any medical treatment of this magnitude carries an element of risk, as does any mind meld, and the Doctor would be compelled by medical ethics to be forthright about it. However, there is little cause for concern. The risk factor is less than two percent."

"Just - be careful?"

"I will," Asil promised.

Tasha knew in that moment that the Vulcan knew exactly what the memory was that had tripped her up in Sickbay, even if she didn't say as much. She chose not to acknowledge it further; she didn't want to dwell on those awful days. "Where are you headed now? Back to Father?"

"No, Engineering. While I am technically relieved of duty, Voyager has made many modifications in the past seven years independent of the path of progress Starfleet has taken, and I would be remiss if I did not investigate further."

"In other words, you're interested to see what they've come up with. You really are taking after me." Tasha gave her sister a quick hug. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"I had expected nothing different."

xxxxxxxxx

"Who the hell is it n - oh, Tasha."

"Are you okay?" She stared into the face of her irate cousin.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I didn't realize you were planning to come by - I guess I should've, though. Come in."

"Doesn't explain why you yelled at me," she replied, following him in. "I'd think anyone who came by to see you would be welcome."

"You'd think that," he replied, his irritation back in full force, but now Tasha could see that it was hiding a serious level of hurt.

She sat down on the couch and indicated for him to join her. "What's wrong?"

"I've been mobbed all morning," he said finally. "First in Sickbay - that's why the Doc released B'Elanna and Miral so quickly - and then down here. I'm not talking about my mom and sister either - I was more than happy to see them. But this morning, everyone I've ever called a friend is stopping by to 'catch up', which wouldn't be so bad if -" he couldn't even bring himself to say the rest of it.

Tasha didn't need him to. "If they hadn't all walked away from you after the accident." She squeezed his arm gently. "You didn't deserve the way they treated you."

"That's not even the worst of it," he said bitterly. "I mean, I've managed to patch things up with my dad, and what he said hurt more than anything they said or did. The difference is, he's accepted that he hurt me. He came to see me last night, and he was almost in tears apologizing. These people, they couldn't have cared less about me when I most needed a friend, but now that I'm back in Starfleet and a member of the crew that's getting a massive amount of news time, they want to waltz back into my life as if they never left." He barked out a harsh laugh. "And the thing of it is, seven years ago I wouldn't have cared, I still would've given any or all of them a second chance. But everything's different now. For the first time in my life, I was around a whole group of people who related to me as me, not as 'the Admiral's son'. And let me tell you, it felt good. I'd had a few friends who thought of me as an individual - you, of course, and Deanna - but even then, that was a few people in a sea of people whose intentions I could never be sure of. But on Voyager, I got to start from scratch, on my own reputation - tarnished as it was - and my own actions, not my family's name. We're a family here on Voyager," he said with wonder, "and even though I'm glad to be home, I seriously doubt I'll be losing touch with any of them."

"That's good." She hugged him tightly around the shoulders. "You know, I remember you telling me about all that back when we first met, when we were on that wrecked shuttle together. You blew it off as a matter-of-fact thing, but I could tell that it bothered you. I could tell that even surrounded by people, you were lonely. You know, in retrospect, maybe that's why we became so close so quickly. For awhile, I wondered if it was a DNA link, some sort of sixth sense that we were connected in a way we couldn't consciously recognize, but...I barely had any friends, and you barely had any real friends, and I think we're both sensitive enough to be able to tell that about each other."

He moved slowly, turning towards her and returning the embrace. "Don't get me wrong, now, Tasha. However close I am to this crew, this doesn't change anything between us. You're still - you're so much more than just a friend or a cousin. I love you like a sister. That's never going to change. You have no idea how much I missed you."

"Really?" She drew back a bit, raising one eyebrow. "Could it be anything like how much I've missed you."

He laughed, a genuine and warm laugh even though he knew it was at his own expense. "That point is yours. And as for the rest of my former so-called friends -" resolve hardened on his face, "I don't need them."

One more chapter of Voyager wrap-up, and then we get into Nemesis. I know a lot of people are very curious to see how that's going to play out!

The part about the Admiral wanting to toughen Tom up to protect him was the only thing I could come up with to reconcile Tom's interpretation of his father's sternness ("he'd say crying was a sign of weakness") with the genuinely concerned parent we see in the series (and in my series, I suppose).

The chapter title comes from the Shawn Mullins song Bitter Tears; the full quote is "Look away from the past, think ahead," which seemed appropriate mainly for the Paris part but also for the rest (Tasha's momentary flashback, for one).

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