Disclaimers apply as usual.
A/N: Here is my rewrite of Faces. Enjoy! We're almost at the end of the reposting, yay!
FACES
Tom Paris tried to get some sleep, but the steel bunk and the growing thought that he was about to be gutted for his healthy organs was preventing sleep from coming to him. Staring up at the bunk above him, which contained the sleeping form of Peter Durst, Tom began to once again relive the last few moments in their shuttle, when he had been trying to outrun a Viidian freighter and get a message to Voyager. He had tried for so many days to get away from Voyager, volunteering for whatever away mission Captain Janeway had on the table. He got the feeling that Janeway knew he was trying to avoid something, whether or not that she knew that something was her ship's counselor, Tom could not be sure. Now, he reasoned, he may never know the truth.
Covering his face with his arm, he took in a deep breath. He'd been surprised when Janeway had finally given into him and assigned him to pilot a survey mission for B'Elanna Torres. Peter Durst had been assigned as a security detail because Janeway wasn't sure what hostile forces they could run into. Voyager meanwhile had gone to scout a nearby system for food supplies. Tom hadn't been aware and he couldn't pinpoint the exact moment of their shuttle passing out of communications range of Voyager but if he was perfectly honest, he was glad to have the time without the ship and Chakotay checking in on them every hour.
It had been one of his many mistakes. When the Viidians attacked they were so far out of range Tom wasn't sure a message buoy would get to the ship in time. He had hoped to outrun them; they had merely latched on with a tractor beam and pulled them into their shuttle bay.
The shuttle had been boarded immediately and all three had been stunned. Tom and Pete had woken up in a rather grim looking holding cell, on top of bunks that made Starfleet issued mattress feel like fluffy clouds. But B'Elanna was nowhere to be found. Tom had tried to inquire about her to their guard but he didn't seem talkative. When Tom had started to issue demands, the Viidians had stunned him again, promising him next time it would be his organs. Go ahead take them, Tom wanted to challenge, but then Sarah's face flashed across his vision and he was immediately humbled. True he had been avoiding her for the past week, but he still cared for incredibly. He was still praying he had a chance in hell. It was a slim chance to begin with made even slimmer by his blunder a week ago.
Groaning to himself he rolled onto one side, still keeping his arm firmly in place. Why did he have to be so damn impulsive? If he could just learn two things, one being to keep his mouth shut, his life would probably go much more smoothly. When he got back to Voyager he would go about telling her the right way, no just showing up at her door, no just bluntly declaring his feelings for her; he'd create a nice romantic holodeck program, maybe dinner at some fancy restaurant in Nice, France, and walk along the beach in the moonlight, or maybe a trip to twentieth century New York, there was nothing like the past to set a romantic tone. He could just picture it now; he'd have her meet him on the holodeck where a vintage limo would pick them up and take them to the fanciest restaurant in the city. Of course he would have to find some way to convince her to come. Another problem for another day, he thought, numbly. Right now, you have to focus on getting back to Voyager in one piece.
Pete rolled over on the bunk above him, causing the structure to shake slightly. Tom released his arm from his face and stared at the wall of the holding cell, listening to the sounds of his colleague's breathing.
He'd asked for a chance to communicate with Voyager hours ago. The request of course had been denied. Tom was sure that Janeway's threat to retaliate with hostile force if her crew or ship was threatened had something to do with that. Still, they hadn't exactly said no, maybe there was still time to negotiate their way out of this mess.
What a negotiating team we have, a half Klingon woman would sooner kill the Viidians than talk them, a blundering pilot and a security officer, Tom lamented, shifting on to his back. If there was one protocol that Tom was going to look at getting changed when or if he made it back to Voyager, it was that the ship's counselor was going to be going on EVERY away mission in case they had to deal for the lives. Again his thoughts had drifted back towards Sarah and he realized that it didn't matter how much or how far he traveled to avoid her, he still couldn't get away from her. Snap out of it Paris!
He heard the creaky doors of the barrack open but he didn't pay attention. The Viidians were constantly in and out, taking away other prisoners to what one annoying Talaxian had called "organ processing". Thinking of that conversation hours ago now, Tom recalled how quickly the Viidians had extracted Neelix's lungs from his body. Shivering for a moment, Tom tried to rid his mind of the terrible thoughts that were swarming through it.
But despite the chilly tone of the Talaxian's conversation, what he had offered up had been informative. They were on their way to a colony to bring medical supplies. When Tom had asked why they all weren't dead yet the Talaxian had replied that the Viidians needed strong bodies to move their supplies and dig their tunnels. So if you'd stayed healthy, you might have a tiny chance of being rescued. That is of course, Voyager got the message buoy and the Viidians had not destroyed it. Tom also knew that they could be days ahead of Voyager.
"Tom," a female voice whispered. He didn't recognize it, it sounded soft, weak. A hand reached out and shook his shoulder. "Tom."
Rolling over to find the source of the voice Tom came face to face with B'Elanna Torres. But there was something different about her and he couldn't make it out in the lightening from the angle he was stationed at. Sitting up he immediately realized why she seemed different.
She was completely human. "B'Elanna?" Tom asked, shifting his position so he could see her better. Maybe he was so dehydrated that he was delusional. There was just no possible way for B'Elanna Torres to be completely human. It didn't make sense. He closed his eyes and opened them again, hoping that would change the woman's appearance before him. Nothing changed; B'Elanna was still sitting there on the floor next to his bunk, looking ill and entirely human.
Dark eyes pooled with unshed tears. Tom wasn't even aware that the woman was able to cry; she never struck him as the type. "Yes, it's me," she finally whispered, weakly, leaning her back against the wall. Her hand reached up and absentmindedly rubbed her now ridge less forehead. "It's so strange," she mused. "As I child I would do anything to hide them."
Tom sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk. He felt awkward. He had never been the buddy type with B'Elanna. She thought he was pig. Thinking back to how he had treated Sarah last week, he was wondering if there was some merit in that. He didn't know how to read her as a half Klingon and he certainly didn't know how to read her as a human. And if they managed to get back to Voyager how was he ever going to explain to Janeway that B'Elanna had some how been turned into a human, and if this was the case, what the hell had happened to her Klingon half? "How…"
"How did they do this? I'm not sure. I woke up in some laboratory and they told me I was completely human," she replied to his unvoiced question.
"It doesn't seem possible," Tom muttered. She had been physically separated from her genes and created into two different people. Tom didn't know much about medicine just his basic first aid, but something told him that neither B'Elanna could last long without the other. "Why would they want to do that?"
B'Elanna shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know," she replied.
There was a rustling sound as the Talaxian above the cot B'Elanna was thrown at turned about on his side. "What else drives the Viidians?" he asked the two officers. When there was no reply, he smiled, "the Phage. They're obsessed with finding a cure. They'll poke, prod, and dissect you if they think you have something that can be used to fight their battle."
"They must have thought your Klingon DNA has something that is…immune to the Phage," Tom suggested, shuddering and thanking whatever spirit on high that he was all human. Of course, if Voyager didn't show up soon then he would be nothing but organs in glass jars.
"Why not just kill my human half then?" B'Elanna asked the Talaxian, looking up at him.
He shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps they felt sorry for you," he offered. "The Viidians like to think that they are not as cruel and blood thirsty as they appear. Let's face it, not all of them are, it's the scientists you have to worry about, they're the ones who capture ships and do horrendous tests on their victims."
Tom felt bile rise in his throat. "Let me guess, we're lucky enough to be on one of those ships now?"
"Indeed you are my friend," the Talaxian offered. "Of all the people on my ship…I'm the only one left. Each and every one of them at some point was taken, never to be heard or seen from again. What exactly happened to them, I'm not sure, but I know this, if you want to stay alive around here, you must stay healthy, or they'll take you away and gut you while they can." His orange-yellowish eyes flashed with a dark, smoldering look, "If you're weak, you're no good to them except in containers, waiting to be transplanted to people in their minds who need the organs more than you."
B'Elanna shivered, and Tom noticed the look of fear flash across her face. "I'm sure Voyager will rescue us by then," he offered which garnered a laugh from the Talaxian. Tom glared at him and set his jaw. "Listen, friend, our captain will stop at nothing to get us back." She isn't a force to reckon with, Tom added in his head and at this moment he realized just how much he deeply respected Kathryn Janeway. "I'm sure she's on her way right now to rescue us."
The Talaxian kept snickering, rolling over onto his side. B'Elanna shook her head. "He's right, Tom. We're going to be nothing but a pile of organs by the time Captain Janeway catches up with us." Tears slid down her cheeks. "I promised Harry we could have that stupid dinner he wanted to make me weeks ago when I got back. Now it looks like I'm going to break that promise." She buried her face in her knees and Tom couldn't be certain, but it sounded like she was crying.
Tom swallowed. He was never good with women crying, last week had proved that point. He bit his lip trying to think of something Sarah would say in this moment. "Hey," he quipped. "Let's have a little optimism, okay, B'Elanna."
"Optimism?" B'Elanna retorted. "That's easy for you to say, you haven't been split into two different people."
He had to admit that she had point. But he had been the senior officer in charge when she had been split, and for that he felt guilty. He was responsible for hers and Durst's safety, he'd gotten them captured by blood thirsty aliens. His thoughts drifted back to the three hours trapped on the Excalibur, Sarah's screams while the predators closed in around her. Tom hadn't been the senior officer in charge on that mission, Commander Chakotay had, but Tom suddenly understood what the older man must have been feeling, while they were being hunted down. Tom had never been one to understand responsibility before, perhaps that was the reason for so many of his mistakes, but now, sitting in that damn cell, responsibility hit him full bore. If he didn't get Pete and B'Elanna back to Voyager, it was him and him alone who was responsible for their demise. "No," he finally replied to the silent human woman, "but I have to live with the burden that it was my inability to save us from the Viidians that led us here."
She tilted her head for a moment. B'Elanna had never personally regarded Tom Paris as a friend, to be honest, she didn't see how people like the Delaney sisters, or Sarah Barrett for the matter could be attracted to him. The latter had been quite a shocker to B'Elanna personally. Sarah was so stubborn and strong-willed; the former Maquis could picture their counselor killing Paris before loving him. Of course, there wasn't any proof that she actually did love him, just rumors floating around the ship of Sarah seen running to a turbolift from her quarters, crying, Tom chasing after her. For a brief second she felt sorry for Paris. And then reality slammed into her; you're trapped on Viidian penal ship, split in half, and you're feeling sorry for Tom Paris? "What happened to being positive?"
"Don't know; seemed like the senior officer thing to say," Tom replied, with a little quirk of his lips.
B'Elanna hadn't known him long, but she known him enough that humor was his way of hiding behind his true emotions. What they needed right now was Harry and his over abundance in optimism. Harry, I miss you, what are you doing right now?
"You, get up," a gruff voice said.
Both Tom and B'Elanna were yanked to their feet and pushed into a line of prisoners, along with Pete Durst, who looked perturbed that he had been woken up. "What's going on?" Tom muttered in their Talaxian friend's ear.
"Prisoner transfer," he replied, in just as hushed a tone. "We're being taken either to another ship or a colony. Your ship will never be able to find you now."
Hands on her hips, Kathryn Janeway set her jaw, gearing up for battle with her latest opponent. She had dealt with impending warp core breaches, being hurdled seventy thousands light-years from home, energy beings that were intent on hunting her crew down, nebulas that really weren't nebulas at all, species that wanted their technology and species that wanted their organs. Surely she could handle this new obstacle in her path. For twenty minutes she had tried to wait the adversary out and then for another fifteen she had attempted to make peace with same adversary, to no avail. Now it was time to dig her heals in and fight.
In one swoop she snatched up the squirming Ava and carried her kicking and screaming into the bathroom.
With the toddler securely underneath one arm, Kathryn kneeled down and started up the bath water. At the sight of the water filling the tub, Ava shrieked even louder, which caused Michael out in the other room to cry that she was being too loud and making his headache worse. Her day had been nothing but Michael's flu and Ava's protests to everything her mother wanted to her to do. While her brother attempted sleep the day away, Ava had managed to break three vases, spill milk all over Tuvok who had stopped by to bring the Captain a report, and tear a decorative tapestry off the wall. Kathryn shook her head while she fumbled with Ava's pink jumper and managed to pull it half off before the little girl gave a shift kick to her gut. With a grunt she released the child and Ava went scampering off again, half naked.
If only Bryan could see his daughter now, wouldn't he be pleased. Grumbling, Kathryn pulled herself off of the floor and went into the living room. Michael was sitting on the sofa crying, looking a shade greener than he had just fifteen minutes ago and Ava was huddled underneath the dining table, eyeing her mother cautiously. Each step that Kathryn took towards Ava resulted in an even louder scream. Moving the chairs out of the way, she reached out to grab a hold of her daughter, but all she managed to get a hold of was her shoe. The child managed to wiggle her self free of her mother's grasp which caused the shoe to come flying off of her foot. The force of the motion knocked Kathryn back on her behind and the shoe came crashing into her face.
Dropping the shoe, she rubbed her sore nose and was almost expecting to see blood dripping from it.
Gritting her teeth she looked about for Ava. All she could see of her daughter was two feet sticking out from the blanket of Kathryn's bed which had been tossed on the floor at some point during this tiresome day. Crawling on her hands and knees, Kathryn silently stalked her way towards her bed. I've beaten the Kazon and the Vidiians. I can beat a one year old.
Reaching out she managed to snatch Ava by the shoed foot and pulled her from underneath the blanket. The child put up a fight, kicking and screaming while her mother managed to pull the rest of her clothes off, pick her up and carry her back into the bathroom. The tub was almost overflowing and with a desperate cry Kathryn tucked Ava underneath her arm and shut the water off.
Letting out a sigh of relief she lowered Ava into the water, which proved to be a mistake because the child was still fighting her. Kathryn was soon covered in a supple amount of soap and water that smelled of honey and flowers. Closing her eyes she tried to use her command training to calm her self, but it was proving to be useless. From the moment Michael had woken up at zero four hundred hours vomiting up whatever it was Neelix had fed them that night and running a fever over a hundred degrees, Kathryn had been trying her best to care for him. Things had been going fairly well, Kathryn had informed Chakotay she would not be reporting for duty, Michael's fever had seemed to be breaking and he could hold down replicated crackers and apple juice, and then Ava had woken up and proceeded to plow her path of mischief and destruction. This led to Michael not being able to sleep like the Doctor wanted and whenever Kathryn went to help him settle back down Ava either cried in protest having lost her mother's attention or managed to wreck something else. The fight over the bath was just adding fuel to the fire. Kathryn was exhausted, both physically and mentally.
Ava must have been aware of this for she had stopped her thrashing and kicking once she was complete submerged in the water but she continued to wail, large tears running down her baby cheeks. Michael was now standing in the middle of the living room, stomping his feet and telling Ava to be quiet. Ava just sobbed louder.
Feeling tears pressing her eyes herself, Kathryn thought miserably, I'm the commanding officer of a hundred and fifty people and I can't even control my two children.
Letting the tears freely fall, because she knew she couldn't stop them if she tried, Kathryn reached into the tub and found the wash clothe and began to give Ava her bath that was suppose to happen over thirty minutes ago. She cried throughout the whole process of being washed and when Kathryn lifted her out of the tub she stood on the towel, dripping wet, screaming. Michael was no longer crying too tired from his illness to continue; he had resorted to lying down on the sofa, covering his ears, sniffling.
While Kathryn dried Ava off the door chime ran. Knowing that she looked absolutely horrible, with her uniform front soaked, her hair falling out of her French twist, and her eyes red, she called out, "Come in." Wrapping the towel around Ava, she picked the child up and went to see who was at the door.
Commander Chakotay was standing in the middle of the room, holding a PADD. "I just came by to give you Neelix's latest supply list. Did I…come at a bad time?" He questioned, noticing the frayed looks on both his captain's face and her children's. If the truth be told, he had been sitting down enjoying a cup of tea when he heard the battle going on between mother and daughter. Paper thin Starfleet issued walls were to thank for that, but instead of ignoring it this time, like usual, he decided that perhaps he would go lend her a hand. Chakotay wasn't unaware of the challenges Kathryn faced, being a mother and captain at the same time, but even he realized that she needed not just the burden of her mission shared but the burden of raising two children shared. The Borg had destroyed that for her. Her frazzled state at the moment made his heart swell with sadness. Why didn't she ask Tal to stay?
Kathryn shook her head, answering his question. "No, just trying to get Ava down for the night. Um…can you give me a moment?"
Chakotay nodded. "Sure, take your time. I'm off duty."
With a gratified smile she took the crying Ava into the nursery, the door hissing shut behind her. For a moment she pictured Chakotay sitting in the rocking chair with Ava snuggled up against his chest. The tears threatened to escape again as she thought of Bryan, who should have been the one Ava took refuge in that night. Again the battle waged within her, one part saying not to let this man, who had no biological ties to her children become a father to them, but another part urged to let it happen, that it was what her children, and quite possibly what she needed to happen. Fighting the tears back, she shook her head. Kathryn, you're just exhausted and emotional because of it. "Computer, lights at full please."
There was a chirp and the lights came on. Holding Ava firmly to her side with one arm she reached out and grabbed the baby's sleeper from the crib. She went to place Ava in her bed, towel and all, and began to dry her off. When the toddler was dry she removed the towel and tossed it to the floor so she could have both hands available to dress Ava in her sleeper, expecting just as long a fight as before.
However, Ava seemed to be relenting a little and allowed her mother to dress her, tie her damp locks of hair back and tuck her into bed. Kathryn grabbed one of the many teddy bears in the crib and pulled it's scrunched up legs down. An old Earth lullaby began to play and Ava grabbed onto the bear, her eyes sleepily shutting.
"Computer, lights at twenty-five percent illumination," Kathryn ordered, softly. The lights dimmed after a chirp and the captain turned about, leaving the room. She listened to the sounds of the baby's breathing mixed with the gentle lullaby before exiting back through her bedroom into the living room.
"Rough night?" Chakotay's voice asked. Kathryn glanced up to see him standing in the doorway to Michael's room, the lights behind him dark. "I helped him get into bed, it looked like you could use a hand." He moved towards the sofa and sat down, his eyes inviting her to join him. She collapsed onto the cushions next to him.
She shrugged her shoulders. "You could say that."
The tiredness in her eyes determined his next comment. "Kathryn, you shouldn't have to do this alone; Tal would have gladly stayed to help you." I would have come to help you, if you had asked.
With a sigh that sounded more like a choked sob, Kathryn turned her head away, to hide her tears. Regaining her composure, she looked at him. "I knew that there were going to be challenges with allowing them to spend time with me on my ship, but I never imagined…having to raise them on this ship." She crossed her arms across her chest, and leaned her head back briefly, letting out a frustrated breath of air. "I should have listened to my mother that bringing two children on this ship was asking for a lot of trouble but I was stubborn, afraid to let go. Michael and I weren't close, I was away all the time, and Ava didn't know me at all. I had very little choice."
Chakotay could see she was throwing up walls again. Damnit Kathryn, just open up, you'll feel better. "No one is questioning that choice, Kathryn. But don't think you have to do this alone.
The look in her eyes broke his heart."But I do, Chakotay, the Borg made certain of that didn't they?" Kathryn challenged him. "I've been told I'm a fool to try to raise two children alone, and keep my career. Starfleet offered a refuge from the pain, it was a way to run away from all the anguish. But they couldn't offer me the help I needed with my children, because I am alone when it comes to them."
He pitied this woman who had been thrown a harsh curve ball in life. Death of a loved one was never an easy thing to handle, but when that death was sudden, tragic, it was even harder to swallow. Chakotay surmised that Kathryn still had years of healing left to do. "You did what you thought was best. I'm sure everyone around you understood that what you were going through was extremely difficult. But don't think they want you to do this by yourself. Yes, your children have lost their father, but there are others out there that could be there for them, it doesn't have to be solely your responsibility; I'm not sure it ever did. Your mother sounds like she was more than willing to help you Kathryn. Why can't you let the crew help you now?"
Kathryn's shoulders stiffened suddenly and he knew that he had lost another opportunity for her to open up to him. Sure he was chiseling away at the surface, but something was holding her back. "Where's that supply list you wanted me to look at?"
With a sigh he took the PADD he had laid on the coffee table in his hand and gave it to her. He watched as her eyes scanned it and then approved it with a small nod of her head. She was handing him the PADD back when the comline beeped.
"Kim to Janeway, Captain I think you should report to the bridge, we're picking up an automated distress call from Lieutenant Paris. They've been attacked by the Viidians."
