Not the screaming. Not the screaming! The screaming which drove him insane, the screaming which just seemed to hammer in the fact that they were never getting out. The screaming which made him feel so... helpless...
Tom Paris awoke with a start, his eyes jerking open, then almost closing again as the bright light made him squint. Where was it coming from? He forced his eyes to remain open as they slowly adjusted to the brightness. As his vision became clearer, he found himself looking up at a strangely familiar ceiling. It wasn't the ceiling of the cell he had spent the last few months of his life in, it was cleaner and brighter than that. And whatever he was lying on... it was soft.
He heard someone approaching. He quickly closed his eyes and pretended to still be asleep as he sensed whoever it was walking over to him, then stopping to look at him. The sound of the person's feet made it clear that he was on a bed of some sort...
"Mr. Paris?"
His eyes jerked open again. That voice... but surely not? But as things once more came into focus, it became clear that it was who he thought it was. He was back on Voyager! Or was he? Was this just a cruel trick? Was he still dreaming?
"How do you feel?" the Doctor was asking.
"Okay..." Tom replied, uncertainly. Should he trust him?
"I've treated most of your injuries, but I don't think you should go back on duty for a while yet."
"Oh." said Tom. He thought things over for a moment, then decided that, even if this wasn't real, he might as well enjoy it while it lasted. "Where's Kathryn?" he asked, sitting up.
Raising his eyebrows slightly at Tom's use of the Captain's first name, the Doctor nodded his head towards the next bed. "Right here." he said, going over to check some readings.
"How is she?" Tom moved into a more comfortable position, looking at her. She certainly looked a lot better than when he had last seen her, asleep and curled up into a ball in their cell.
"She's going to be fine. I've given her new eyes, since I couldn't repair the damage done to her old ones. I don't think she'll notice the difference between these and the others."
"Wow." Tom was impressed. Their captors had burned out the Captain's eyes a few days ago, leaving her blind. She had wanted to kill herself. Thankfully Tom had been able to stop her.
Speaking of the Captain, she was stirring. She moved her head and shut her eyes tight before opening them. Tom could see that the Doctor had indeed done a good job with them. They were the exact same blue color as he remembered them to be.
"Tom." said Kathryn, her hand reaching out searchingly. She had done the same thing every time she'd woken up for weeks.
"I'm here." he replied, grasping her hand firmly. She relaxed slightly.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"Back on Voyager." he smiled slightly. "Can't you tell?"
"I thought it smelled familiar."
"Smell?" the Doctor got out his tricorder. "Captain..." he said carefully, "Can't you see?"
"No." said the Captain quietly, lowering her head. "My eyes... They burned them out." The last part was barely above a whisper.
"But..." The Doctor closed his tricorder in exasperation and moved over to the biobed's scanners. "I don't understand! I - oh..."
"What?" Tom stood up, trying to see the console.
"There's an implant in the Captain's brain... it's stopping the electrical impulses from her eyes being processed."
"How is that possible?"
"I don't know."
"Well can you get it out?"
"I don't know yet." the Doctor looked up, his expression grim. "But from the looks of it, I'd say it's unlikely."
Kathryn's grip on Tom's hand suddenly tightened. Wordlessly, he sat down next to her, holding her tight. It was the only thing he could do. But he doubted that it would be enough...
* * *
Later that night, Tom was lying on his biobed, thinking over the events of the past day in his head. He still couldn't quite believe that they were back, but so far there had been no indication that they weren't. Besides, even a short respite from the torture and pain of the last few months was more than he had hoped for for weeks now. He had thought Voyager had given up looking. Maybe they had, maybe this wasn't real after all... but he didn't want to think about that. Instead, he turned his thoughts to Kathryn, who was currently asleep on the next bed. All they had wanted when they were in the prison was for things to get back to normal. Now it looked like that could never happen. He wondered if she'd ever be able to command the ship again. For now, she had told Chakotay to continue as if he was Captain, since she couldn't possibly resume command in her current condition. He had noticed that she seemed surprisingly calm while talking to Chakotay. Knowing her, she was probably trying her best not to let her emotions show, just like she had always done. The Captain had to be strong, had to be in control no matter what. He wondered how she really felt. He knew that the news had had a bigger impact on her than she was letting on, but he had no idea as to how big. Losing your sight, with little hope of ever regaining it, would hit anyone hard. Add to that the endless torture of the last few months, and the situation looked pretty grim. Would she be able to get over it? Would anyone, if they were in her position? He certainly hoped so...
He thought he heard her make a noise, so he decided to go over to her. She was lying on her back, tears running silently down her cheeks from her new, but useless eyes. He reached down to take her hand, but she grabbed him and hugged him as tight as she could. Sitting on the bed, he hugged her back, brushed the tears away with his fingers.
"I'm sorry." she said quietly.
"What for?"
"Overreacting like this. I should be glad we're alive, glad we're back. Instead I'm bawling my head off because I can't see."
"Hey, hey..." he stroked her hair. "You're not overreacting. You've been through a lot, and this is a big thing to take in. It's gonna take time."
"I don't want to take it in. I don't want it to be true."
"I know, I know, nobody does."
"Then why is it?"
He didn't have an answer to that one, and she knew he didn't. So they just held each other tighter, for the small comfort it provided.
* * *
"Ready to go?" Tom asked as he strode into sickbay.
Kathryn had finally convinced the Doctor that it was safe for her to be released, and he was there to pick her up. She was siting on a biobed, the Doctor hovering around her nervously. He obviously wasn't sure that this was a good idea. Tom had done his best to reassure him, but it hadn't really worked that well. Still, eventually even he had realized that the Captain couldn't stay in sickbay forever, and, after having several long talks with Tom (which were, quite frankly, more like lectures on how to care for the Captain), he had agreed to let her go.
"Ready as ever." said Kathryn in a determined voice.
Tom took her carefully by the arm and led her to the doors.
"Take care of yourselves!" said the Doctor just before they closed.
Walking through the corridors, Tom noticed that Kathryn was awfully silent. He looked over at her and saw that her expression carefully masked whatever she was feeling. Somehow Tom doubted that it was excitement over getting out of sickbay.
Kathryn was wearing a sensor web under her uniform (she had insisted upon wearing her uniform even though she was off duty for the foreseeable future). The Doctor had thought it up based on a similar garment he had found in the Federation database. The jumpsuit-like piece of clothing which was the same gray as the Starfleet undershirts, allowed the wearer to "feel" obstacles by increasing pressure in the area it would come in contact with if he or she were to take two more steps in that direction. He had also been thoughtful enough to have the pressure be different depending on whether the obstacle was a person or not. Unfortunately, he had predicted that it would take a long time to get used to, and so it was unlikely that Kathryn would be able to make her own way around the ship any time soon.
They reached Kathryn's quarters, and Tom led her in. There was classical music playing, and, seeing the slight smile on her face, he steered her towards the table, where there was a big bowl of coffee ice cream.
"I took the liberty of replicating you a snack." he said as he helped her sit down.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Guess." said Tom, picking up a spoonful of the ice cream. "Or just open your mouth wide so you can taste it."
Kathryn smiled when she tasted the ice cream. "Thank you." she said sincerely.
"Glad you like it. Now," he said, putting the spoon in her hand and guiding her left to the bowl, "I'm afraid I'll have to leave you for a few hours. Think you can finish all this ice cream?"
"Probably." she said, again smiling slightly. "Just don't leave me alone for too long?"
"I'll be back in no time." He squeezed her forearm reassuringly, then got up and headed for the door.
"Okay..." she said as he left.
She just sat there for a few moments, then decided to pull herself together. Don't be stupid. I can do this! she thought to herself, so, holding the bowl tightly, she carefully took a spoonful of ice cream and put it in her mouth, enjoying the taste. Coffee... coffee! She stood up carefully, then made her way to the replicator, feeling her way along the wall.
"Coffee. Black." she said, her voice full of anticipation.
She heard the sound of the replicator, put her hands in, felt the warmth of the cup, and took it out. She lifted it to her nose, relishing the smell. She took a few steps back towards the table, smiling.
And then she tripped over a chair.
The coffee went everywhere, all over her, the carpet, the furniture. She gasped as the hot liquid came into contact with her skin, tried to get away, but ended up falling again, this time backwards, landing flat on her back. She lay there for a few seconds, breathing heavily after her heart rate had been sped up by the shock. Then she sat up, intending to clean up the mess.
That was when she realized that she didn't know how.
How was she supposed to find the cleaning equipment when she couldn't see? Even if she didm how did she know she wouldn't make an even bigger mess?
How could she live her life like this?
So instead she sat leaning against the chair, hugging her knees, and
cried.
