Disclaimer: Yes, I am totally ripping Paramount off, but what I'm not doing is making any money with this.
From the smell of things, he was in Sickbay. The place always smelled of antiseptic, which though slightly acrid, was what a medical facility should smell like, after all. He'd been woken by a sharp hiss right below his ear, or rather by what that hypospray had injected into him. He was loath to open his eyes, since even with them closed he could tell that the room was garishly bright, and his head hurt like hell. The Doctor even now had no appreciation for the occasional sensitivity of his patients' eyes.
Someone was holding his hand, and he could tell from the slight calluses that it was B'Elanna. She disliked Sickbay, and usually only turned up there under duress. Something was wrong. She would only be there if she was worried about something.
From the low beeping sounds of a tricorder coming from the other side, the person there was the Doctor. He opened his eyes experimentally, and immediately squinted them shut again as the harsh Sickbay lights stabbed at his eyes.
"Turn the lights down!" he heard B'Elanna snap.
"Computer, reduce lighting by fifty percent," came the Doctor's pithy rejoinder.
That was much more bearable, and he opened his eyes slowly, seeing both of them staring down at him as his eyes focussed. His head was pounding, and his mind was clouded with sleep. He imagined that was how Kathryn felt.
Kathryn.
He attempted to sit up. "Where's the Captain?" he demanded. He only succeeded in getting up on his elbows before he was pushed back down by two pairs of hands.
"Slow down, Chakotay," B'Elanna said gently. "She's all right."
"Ugh," he replied, feeling only a little more relieved. He closed his eyes painfully, and then turned his head to look at the Doctor. "What happened?"
"You dropped out of thin air onto the bridge, as I understand it," the Doctor replied, waving his scanner around once again.
"I think you even managed to shock Tuvok," B'Elanna said from his other side, "and you nearly gave the rest of us heart attacks. What the hell happened?"
He ground his teeth against the throbbing pain in his skull. "What happened to the Captain? She hit her head."
"So I noticed," the Doctor said curtly. "It was quite a blow. I was able to stabilize her though and close the wound, however both of your brains had for some reason been deprived of oxygen and blood for quite some time. You've been down for two days recovering. I haven't yet found an explanation for that."
"The anomaly must have bisected us. Our hearts and lungs were thrown out of sync with our brains, I guess. All I remember is that damned anomaly rushing up at us from the floor. Are you sure Kathryn's all right?" he demanded again.
"Anomaly?" B'Elanna cut in curiously. "What anomaly?"
"Will you give me a painkiller?" he asked plaintively. "The temporal anomaly that the ship encountered. It jumped right on top of us, throwing the ship, the Captain and me into a faster time line. When it moved off, I guess we slowed to normal time. Ha, Kathryn was worrying about nothing." The Doctor helpfully applied another hypospray to his neck and his headache immediately abated.
B'Elanna showed slight comprehension. "Well that explains a few things."
"Like what?"
"Well, that night the ship gave this little shake . . . and then suddenly we were at full stop behind a moon, every dinner in the Mess Hall had disappeared, there were structural problems on the lower decks, and every loose object on the ship was forcefielded down so solidly that everyone was stuck standing wherever they were until Tuvok got the computer to turn it all off. And then you two dropped in, unconscious. If you were working that much faster than we were, it accounts for some of that. We've been trying to figure that out for the whole two days you've been recovering."
For a man who had been sleeping for two days, he didn't feel very rested. He wanted to sit up and see Kathryn, wherever she was. Undoubtedly on that damn bed on the surgical bay. Even when he knew she was all right, seeing her occupying it made him panic . . . like it was inherently wrong that she should ever have to be there. It was his job to keep her out of it.
"Why are you here, B'Elanna?" he asked after a moment. "You never come here unless you're worried."
She glanced at the Doctor, and then at him sheepishly. "We've been on vigil . . . and it's my turn. You gave us quite a scare. You both nearly had brain failure for a while . . . we . . . we almost lost the Captain."
That did it.
He shot up from the bed and succeeded in evading both of their efforts to force him back as he made a blind push for the surgical bay.
He stopped dead at the end of the bed, gripping the console with white-knuckled hands as his knees nearly gave out. Kathryn lay there, pale as death with at least four separate monitors attached to her forehead, temples and neck. It was his job to make sure things like this never happened to her. She could be in a coma for the rest of her life, have brain damage . . . she could still die there. Unwillingly, he let out a sob.
Two strong arms embraced him, and B'Elanna put her head on his shoulder, trying to console him. "I didn't lie," she murmured softly. "I said she'll be all right, and she will. She just needs to rest."
He hung his head, grinding his teeth together. "This is my fault," he said. "I should have held onto her until the ship stopped shaking instead of making her go back . . . I should have held on . . ."
"Shut up," she said in her usual brusque fashion. She was like that, even when trying to comfort people. "Shut up, Chakotay. It is not your fault. And she'll be all right."
"That shouldn't even be in question!" he exclaimed, breaking away from her.
B'Elanna merely looked at him carefully, resting her hands on her pregnant belly and watching him rather sorrowfully. "What happened, Chakotay? What did you say? What did she say?"
"What did she say? Spirits, B'Elanna! She doesn't have to say anything!"
"Calm down, Commander," the Doctor insisted, approaching him. "You're still not fully recovered from this. Don't strain yourself."
"Easy for you to say," he muttered, though he did make an effort to compose himself. "What really happened to her, Doctor?"
The Doctor shrugged. "The same thing that happened to you, only doubled with a bad concussion. You have my assurances that she'd suffered nothing permanent. She only needs more rest. She's exhausted. Did she even sleep while you were in that anomaly?"
He made a face. Did she sleep? Oh yes, she had slept, and she woke up looking at him with the sort of expression he'd only ever dreamed of seeing on her face. "Yes, she got some rest, I think, but that's not enough to make up for all the stress we were under. We didn't even know if you would all reappear again and for a while it looked like the ship was going to shake itself apart. And she had a concussion."
"What about you?"
Him? Now he had probably gotten less rest than she . . . he'd been awake at odd intervals during that night, trying to force himself to calm down and detach himself from the sensation of having Kathryn curled against him for the whole night. He nearly hadn't succeeded. A cold shower would have done him immense good at that juncture. He shrugged. "A little. Not much. It doesn't matter. When are you going to wake her up?"
"I could right now . . . but it's probably best to let her have a few hours of natural sleep first, which I'm letting her right now. That's part of the reason why you need to calm down. You'll wake her up."
His roiling thoughts calmed somewhat, and he looked guiltily over at the pale woman sleeping just beyond. Natural sleep. That meant something, didn't it? He wondered if she was dreaming. "All right. What am I supposed to do now? I need a shower . . ."
"You will stay here until I'm satisfied with your brain wave readings," the Doctor replied in a clipped tone. "And I'll thank you not to disturb my other patient."
"She could probably use a little disturbing," B'Elanna muttered sourly.
For her troubles, she got two glares.
The Doctor retreated into his office, leaving them to stand beside the surgical bed, Chakotay watching its occupant, and B'Elanna watching him. She glanced at the Captain, who slept on.
"She snores," she said with slight amusement.
"Only when she sleeps on her back, and sometimes not even then," he replied quietly, his attention only barely divided.
"How do you know that?" B'Elanna demanded suspiciously.
"She falls asleep in the ready room a lot," he replied, oblivious to what her tone implied.
"Ah, I see," his longtime friend replied ambiguously. She frowned slightly at him, sighing. She contemplated him like that for several moments, then let out a breath. "You love her a lot, don't you?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied without hesitation.
"Why don't you tell her?"
"She knows."
He knew that she knew . . . Kathryn tended to avoid it at all costs, except for that one strange moment on the bridge when her concussed psyche had gotten away with her vocal cords. She never fully told him her side of it. He didn't really know how she felt . . . except for that ever present saccharine tension between them. Chakotay knew she felt that. But was that it for her? Was that why she stayed away, because it meant nothing else?
B'Elanna turned her strange expression on the woman in question, her hands coming to rest on her hips in typical B'Elanna Torres fashion. She sniffed. "Maybe she's the one who needs some sense knocked into her."
"Leave it alone," he said. "She only gets stubborn when you push her, and I don't need her railing at me when she thinks I'm putting you up to things."
"Nobody puts me up to anything," she objected. "Your persistence amazes me sometimes, Chakotay. It amazes all of us."
"Many have lost in the betting pool already, huh? The one concerning how long I would last at this before I gave up?"
She grimaced. "How do you know about that?"
"I'm not as blind as you think I am . . . and your husband can't keep a secret to save his life. He's never come right out with it, but we know what he's up to when he holds his little parties on the holodeck, and why everyone suddenly clams up when we arrive."
"And you nearly always arrive together," she murmured.
"We work the same shifts, B'Elanna."
"And you, this ship's whole Personnel Department embodied, has nothing to do with that?"
"The Captain and First Officer usually work together, B'Elanna," he reminded her.
She snorted indelicately. "Oh yeah, like you couldn't stagger the shifts and have a senior officer awake for every shift. Harry may basically be senior staff, but he's not cut out for the graveyard shift. You're so transparent."
"So are you, B'Elanna, so are you."
The door behind them opened to admit a tired-looking Tom Paris who grinned at them wanly as they turned towards him.
"Aha," he said softly, "Sleeping Beauty number one is awake. Come on B'Elanna, your turn's over, and you need a rest. You've been in here all day . . . I heard you pretty much fought Harry off at phaser-point when he came to relieve you."
She looked at him skeptically. "You're the one who needs a rest. I'm fine."
He chose that unfortunate moment to yawn. "That may be true, but I've only got me to worry about." He looked pointedly at her expanded waistline.
"Well it's your fault," she muttered as she passed him.
He gave a bark of laughter. "Oh yeah! Like I broke my own bones!"
Chakotay just shook his head at them and turned back towards the Captain as B'Elanna left the Sickbay. Tom came to stand beside him, watching the Captain sleep as well. For once, his expression was solemn. He made a slight face that Chakotay couldn't categorize.
"She'll be all right, Chakotay," he said. "You can take my word for it, I hope."
He nodded slightly. Tom, famous for his flippant attitudes, could also be credited with a surprising amount of levelheadedness when it all came down to it. He worked well under pressure, unlike some people. Tom would not make light of the Captain's condition, not now. However later, in hindsight, Chakotay was sure the pilot would come up with something brash to say about it all. But not now. For now, he'd only make fun of things that did not matter.
"B'Elanna was very worried about you," Tom continued after a moment. "It's good to see you awake, Big Guy."
"I'm not sure if it's good to be awake," he said under his breath.
"Don't worry about her, Chakotay. She's all right. Hell, she's indestructible! You should know that by now."
Chakotay looked at the younger man. "You're worrying about her."
Tom rolled his eyes. "Of course I am! I'm the one who hauled her in here when her brain started failing. The difference is that you have guilt. I'm an insensitive idiot and I can see that. What happened, Chakotay?"
"Temporal anomaly."
"Uh-huh, and what else? Did you say something to her? Did she say something to you?"
Chakotay rounded on the pilot, glaring. "Why do you always ask that?! Like it's any of your business what the hell happened or didn't happen!"
Tom made silencing motions with his hand, glancing over at their prone captain. "Shh! You'll wake her up! And it's our business because we're the ones who're going to have to coax you both down from whatever frosty, uncomfortable attitude you're working yourself into. And she'll wake up and feel the same way and you'll both start freezing the bridge for a week. Whatever happened to her, it's not your fault."
"You should stay out of it! All of you," Chakotay said in dangerous tones. It was none of their business! None of it! Not New Earth, not the ready room, not the anomaly, none of it! Why wouldn't they stop and just let them work it out themselves? He had seen this coming. He knew Tom and B'Elanna wouldn't stay out of it.
"Well it's damn hard not to notice, Chakotay. You both might as well be screaming it at the top of your lungs. And I hardly blame you. She owns every room she walks into, and everyone in it, without even trying. Even when she's unconscious, she owns the whole goddamn ship just by being here. The difference is, the rest of us can ignore it sometimes, you on the other hand, never can. That is what everyone on this ship knows, Chakotay. Especially me."
"Why especially you?" he grated.
Tom shot him a long-suffering look. "You're denser than I thought. I told you she owns everything she looks at, didn't I?"
"Lieutenant you are-"
Tom finished it for him. "-out of line and married. I know. Do you want to know why I'm married? Because B'Elanna makes me forget about Kathryn Janeway's crooked grin and all the interesting ways she finds to walk over to the ready room. That's the end of it. That's the line. Now I'm going to shut up before she wakes up and kills us because of it. You should do the same."
Chakotay fumed. Tom Paris was more than out of line. Did B'Elanna know the gist of what had just passed there? Did Kathryn? Spirits, everything got more complicated by the second.
Tom looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Go sit down before you pass out."
Chakotay was not in an obliging mood, and stood stonily in his place, fighting the urge to deck the wayward pilot standing beside him watching the exact same woman as he. He was feeling belligerent. He usually tried to avoid that. The real problem was that he felt possessive over something that he did not possess.
Damn that anomaly! Damn it to every hell ever conceived by sentient minds! It was changing too many things too fast. Kathryn making more admissions in an hour than she had in her entire life, even unintentionally, and then B'Elanna and Tom picking away at the whole thing relentlessly and Paris . . . Damn him!
Damn him mostly because he was right.
Kathryn owned him. Owned his soul in the profound way possible.
That was why he never gave up on her, and always stood by hoping that some day . . .
Kathryn stirred on the bed, frowning slightly in her sleep. The headache must have been terrible, even in sleep. Needless to say, he was surprised when she cracked one eye open and looked at them.
Tom turned around beckoning to the Doctor. "I thought you said she was going to stay asleep for another few hours," the pilot said in a low voice as the hologram approached.
"Not with you two having an argument right over my head," she said in tired, acid tones from where she lay. "What was that all about?"
"Nothing," the both replied at once.
"But it was worth arguing over?" she asked, squinting against even the dimmed lights in the Sickbay. "Oh, God, my head . . ."
"Your head indeed," the Doctor muttered as he pressed a hypospray to her neck. "I'm amazed at how much abuse a human brain can take sometimes.
She groaned slightly, letting her head fall back on the pillow. "Chakotay . . . ?"
"Yes?" he asked.
She closed her eyes wearily. "Just making sure you were there." Then came one of those saccharine moments that he revelled in even when he hated it. She sighed, breaking the uneasy silence. "Now what the hell happened? How's the ship? Where did that anomaly go?"
"The ship's fine, and who gives a damn about the anomaly?" Chakotay asked.
"I do. I want to make sure that damned thing doesn't drop on me again."
"It won't."
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
"I think it's out of the picture," Tom supplied helpfully. "I don't think the sensors have picked up anything besides a whole lot of solar plasma. Why the hell were we there anyhow? The ship moved so fast I nearly fell out of my seat."
"Well, we didn't want anyone getting curious about the possibilities of a ship with only two people on it. That was before we figured out that we were going to fast for everyone."
"Ah, I see. Well, vigil's over I guess! Time to spread the good word!" And with that the pilot left. What exact "word" he was going to spread was still in question.
Chakotay approached the bedside, and Kathryn immediately held her hand out. After a slight hesitation, he took it. She squeezed his fingers, closing her eyes again.
"Well that was interesting," she murmured.
"To say the least."
"Still with me for that holodeck thing?"
"Of course."
"All right then. Now if you two gentlemen don't mind, I want my uniform," she commanded, looking down at the Sickbay gown she was wearing.
The Doctor made a tsking sound. "I don't think so, Captain. Both of you are going to have to stay here a while . . . I'd say one day of observation should do it."
Kathryn rolled her eyes. "Well, at least everyone will still be here."
To be continued . . . (Yes, still! I'm not done!)
***
