***

Okay, I'm sorry for the sloooooow update this time, but this part has been very hard to write. It's brand new, only seen one beta reader for spelling and grammar- so no concept watch. Sorry! (BAD Molly!) But I think it's okay. A little WARNING- there's a smidgen (is that even a word?) of violence and language in here, but not much- certainly nothing past the PG-13 rating. Um, and there's a hell of a lot of angst. (Poor Tom!)

MJ

***

Blissfully Stigmatised

"Tom? TOM?" Chakotay sighed and walked into his bedroom to see Tom lying on the bed reading a PADD while listening to his 'music'. "TOM!" Chakotay yelled, getting no response from the teenager. Chakotay sighed, grabbed a cushion and walked over to the bed, swatting Tom with it.

Tom looked up and frowned, "Oh, hey, Kotay."

"HUH?"

"Computer, pause playback." Tom ordered and then looked up when the music stopped, "I said 'hey'. What's up?"

"Could you turn the music down? I can't hear myself think and I'm all the way across the other side of our quarters."

"Are you sure?" Tom frowned, "The sound's confined to my quarters…"

Chakotay smiled pointedly, "How about you compare my workload since you've had your music on to what I got done before? Zero to lots is a pretty obvious indicator."

Shrugging, Tom said, "Okay, I'll turn it down. In fact…" he jumped off his bed, "I was thinking of heading down to the resort…"

"It's Friday." Chakotay reminded the sixteen-year old.

"I know." Tom said softly, "Meet me at the resort before 2200?"

"Sure. See you later."

***

Harry walked into the holodeck and kicked off his shoes, walking barefoot across the sand. He spotted a blonde in baggy blue swim-shorts, bending over at the edge of the water. "Hi, Tom." Harry called, walking over to the sun kissed teenager.

Tom looked up, pushing his sunshades up as he did, "Oh, hey, Haz. What are you doing here?"

"Came to see what you were up to." Harry shrugged, "What *are* you up to, Tom?" He asked, indicating the board on the sand.

"Surfing." Tom said innocently, "I figured I'd catch some waves while I'm waiting for Kotay. You wanna come in with me?"

"I've never… what do you do?"

"You're kidding!" Tom exclaimed, "You don't know what surfing is? Haz… not even when you were my age?"

"No." Harry breathed, shaking his head, thinking how weird that sounded. Tom Paris had always been the big brother Harry had never had, now Tom was younger than him- and Harry still felt like the younger, more naïve one.

Smiling forgivingly, Tom said lightly, "Harry, you can be so cute at times. You should really show that side to the ladies."

"I do."

"No you don't," Tom said with all the wisdom of a teenager, "you show them your chaste side. There's a difference, Haz."

Harry raised an eyebrow and sat down on the sand, "I thought you were supposed to be the cute one. The Delaney sisters sure have some cute stories about your sexcapades as a six-year old."

Tom frowned and picked his sky blue board up, absently dusting the sand off it, "My sexcapades as a *six-year old*??? Haz, I hate to ruin some good gossip, but I haven't ever… well, not in this lifetime. Harry, there's no one my age around here, is there?"

Grinning, Harry looked up at Tom, shading his eyes from the sun, "Is that *Tom Paris* blushing? That's one for the holo-imager!"

"Not funny, Haz." Tom muttered, kicking a dusting of sand over his friend's legs, "Tell me what the gossip is anyway."

Harry smiled, "Apparently six-year old Tom Paris went up to the Delaney sisters late one night in Sandrine's. Naturally, Megan and Jenny were all over two guys and you, being you, clambered up between the couples completely oblivious to what was going down. First thing you asked Jenny and Megan? 'Where do babies come from?'"

Tom blushed a little more and then laughed, saying, "I remember that. Jen and Megan told me the truth and I left the place swearing that I would *never* ever see a girl naked."

"I believe your exact words were 'Girls are yucky!'." Harry smiled, "Then you asked the twins how come they kiss guys with their mouths open. Apparently you were intrigued at the answer and Megan and Jenny spent forever trying to drum it into you that you weren't to try it."

Tom shrugged and ran a hand through his short blonde hair, "Megan's cute, I was playing dumb."

"Yeah, right." Harry scoffed, "I might have believed that if you weren't so into Jenny, not Megan, at that age. You went through the whole looking up girls' skirts phase with Jen…"

"Don't remind me!" Tom exclaimed, "Man, everybody on this ship knows my childhood embarrassments. If you know so many, imagine how much Kotay knows! That guy sure has some ammo…" he sighed, "I'm going surfing, Haz, before my face permanently becomes this pink."

"Hey, Tom! Don't forget that time you wowed us with your water wings, insisting we address you as 'angel'!"

***

Chakotay lay back on the sand and watched the blonde sixteen-year old tussling with a particularly large simulated wave. The teenager glided along the crest of the swell, occasionally flicking his board off the top in an arc in the air.

Chakotay shook his head incredulously, he couldn't believe Tom was this old already. Four months, sixteen weeks- seventeen weeks today- and Tom Paris was a teenager. Tom's eyes were the same as they had always been and he was now taller than Chakotay yet again. His hair was slightly blonder than usual- thanks to all the time spent at the beach and, Chakotay suspected, a little dose of current trends. But Tom still had an innocent look and presence about him that hadn't died away since he was a toddler-, which wasn't necessarily a good thing. Sure, Chakotay loved Tom's innocent personality- how the young man would still come to him with any problem he was having, expecting Chakotay to solve it with all his worldly wisdom. But Tom's innocent smile was a complete killer for getting Chakotay firmly engaged around the teenager's little finger.

Tom rode the wave into shore and, leaving his board at the edge of the water, padded over the sand to Chakotay. Frowning, Chakotay looked at the lanky teenager, "Tom, have you eaten today?"

"Whatever happened to 'hi, Tom'? Huh, Kotay?" He lay himself down on the sand

"Hi, Tom." Chakotay laughed, lying himself on the sand at Tom's side.

Sighing, Tom said, "Yes, I've eaten today. I've had three full meals. Quit worrying about me. I'm sixteen, but I'm naturally skinny and very active." He shrugged, "I'm fine, Kotay."

Chakotay nodded his acceptance, "Okay, slim" he said, grinning when Tom rolled his eyes. "Can I ask you a question, Tom?"

"Sure you can, Kotay."

"How come you still call me Kotay?" Chakotay asked softly, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't mind. It's just most of your childhood quirks have kind of dissipated over the past few weeks, I was wondering why this particular one hadn't."

Tom shrugged, pushing his elbows back so that he was raised up on them, looking out at the rolling turquoise waves. He thought for a few minutes, his desire to be mature warring with his love of Chakotay in his mind. Eventually he pulled his dark sunshades off and held them in his hands, running his finger along the smooth rims. "You've always been Kotay," Tom said softly, "Ever since I was a kid. Kotay suits you better than Chakotay, no offence intended or anything. You're just more of a Kotay to me."

Smiling widely, Tom sat up and continued, "I remember how you used to spend forever trying to teach me that it was CHAkotay instead of Kotay when I was little. Do you remember? We'd sit in Sandrine's and, when I called you Kotay, you'd correct me. Then I'd correct you, and we'd bat back and forth all night until you finally gave in and changed the topic- probably thinking that it was simply something I couldn't grasp for some reason. Or that I was just being stubborn Tom Paris. And you'd always give in first because I, well, I could go on all night."

"I remember." Chakotay said softly, eyes crinkling affectionately.

"Yeah, well I wasn't being dumb, or stubborn." Tom smiled broadly, "I *knew* what your full name was, it I knew that it just wasn't *you* and- being four, or whatever- I wasn't capable of articulating this then. I'm barely able now." he laughed, "It's like me- I'm a Tom, not a Thomas. And you're a Kotay, not a Chakotay."

Chakotay returned the teenager's smile, "I understand you, Tom. Thank you."

"You're okay with me calling you Kotay, right? You don't think it's a babyish thing? I mean, God knows, I don't do it to gain some street cred for either of us…"

Laughing, Chakotay shook his head, "No, I'm fine with it, Tom. I like it."

"Good, coz I wasn't gonna stop calling you it, anyway." Tom smirked and stood up, pulling Chakotay to his feet, "Now, Kotay, I want to introduce you to a little concept called surfing…"

***

"Come on, Kotay!!! You're not gonna be able to ride out *that* big a wave yet!" Tom chuckled as Chakotay paddled his board out even further. He hadn't thought he could get Chakotay anywhere near a surfboard, never mind get the man to enjoy paddling his board out and surfing it back in.

Now, with half an hour before midnight, Chakotay had insisted Tom watch him take a big wave and prove that the teenager wasn't the only one who could ride a large wave to perfection. So Tom sat in the shallows of the ocean, with his long legs just submerged beneath the water and the sun warming his bare back. He floated his board in front of him, leaning on it as he watched Chakotay turn around and paddle along with the wave.

Tom found himself giggling and then exhaling with shock as Chakotay managed to stand up on the board and surf his way into the shore. Sure, Chakotay couldn't play with the crest nearly as well as Tom could, flicking up and down across the white rim, but he was damn good for a beginner.

As Chakotay hopped off his board at the shoreline and made his way over to Tom, the teenager flicked a spray off water over the black-haired man, exclaiming, "Jeez, Kotay, you're good. Where've you done that before?"

"Nowhere. Never before the past hour." Chakotay said, smiling and pulling the dripping sixteen-year old up out of the water, "Why? You scared I'm better than you, Tom?"

"Kotay," Tom laughed and held up a forbidding hand, "you may be good for beginner, but you don't even come close to my standard, and you never will. So, no, I don't feel even the teensiest bit threatened by your surprisingly good board abilities."

"Right." Chakotay said, laughing and shaking his head, leading Tom back across the beach, "Sorry to spoil your fun, but I think we've got to go and catch up on some memories."

"Oh, great" Tom mumbled, grabbing his towel and rubbing it across his chest, "Just what I need to be doing on a Friday night."

Chakotay laughed a little and pulled his T-shirt on, "Hey, at least it's your seventeenth birthday. You're another week closer to becoming a legitimate adult."

"If it's my birthday, Kotay, where are my presents?" Tom asked, with a cheeky smirk.

"I'm actually surprised you haven't tried to milk that yet, Tom."

"Me too." Tom grinned, "Just remember my real birthday- May 25th, five days."

"How could I possibly forget?" Chakotay said. Tom had been reminding him of his upcoming birthday for about the past two months- since he had been ten-years old.

Tom smiled and walked side by side with Chakotay out of the holodeck and towards the observation lounge.

***

I wonder if Tom's simply naturally childlike, or if this second childhood has left its impact on him. He doesn't seem to be aware of it; I'm sure that he's not doing these things consciously because this sixteen-year old tries so hard to be mature.

He's sat there right now, a mere minute before he turns seventeen, cross-legged on the couch and fascinated with making his fingers slide down the arm of the couch. His eyes are just so wide and blue that it makes me think of how they were when he was a toddler. His eyes are virtually shadow free now, after his second childhood. I'm sure that, at least I hope that, some of the scars on his battered soul have been repaired. He hasn't had to mature as fast, if we're talking Tom's time and not real time, as he had to when living with his family. So he seems to be revelling in everything a child can do, and doesn't want it to end. I read him an old earth tale once about a little boy who never grew up, and Tom went around for weeks after, proclaiming that he was one of those 'lost boys'.

I watch Tom's eyes squeeze closed, as they always do when he's assaulted with the memories and, as he's remembering, I wonder what he did before I came along. He was in sickbay with the Doc and experiencing this sensation for the first few times. Did the Doc offer the same comfort I did? What did toddler Tom feel when everything came running back? Did he feel as alone as I imagine he must have felt? And all that time I was glorying in not having Lieutenant Paris around to deal with...

Tom was in the midst of regaining his memories and chewing on his bottom lip like he always did when he felt insecure. I had a sudden urge to make my way over and hug him reassuringly, but I knew that to disturb him during this time would have confusing effects on the teenager- mixing the past and present around in his head. I could only sit and wonder what was happening inside his mind at the moment...

***

"Tom, you're up next."

"Sure." Seventeen-year old Tom Paris smiled at his coach, swinging his bat in a wide practice arc.

"We need a homerun, Paris. One run down, two men out, bottom of the ninth…"

"I know, coach."

"Tyler's not going to make it past the starting plate, not with Hicks pitching, we need your run, Tom."

"I *know*." Tom laughed, "I can do it, coach. I never let you down, do I?"

"Never before, Paris. Saw your father before, he's up in the stands."

Glancing up into the stands, Tom smiled nervously, maybe now he could show his father just what he could do.

***

"Tom, your bat is too low, lift it up."

"Daddy, it's heavy and too big, I need a littler one, like Luke's! His is blue, y'know, and it's got white bits on, and he said that…"

"Don't start chattering again. You're a *Paris*, you are able to cope with full size equipment."

Five-year old Tom sighed and lifted the bat up higher, over his shoulder and watched as his daddy's friend wound up the pitch. The ball flew at him and he dove to the side, avoiding the speeding baseball.

"*What* was that, Thomas?"

"He threw it too fast! And it was an over-arm pitch, I don't have to do those!" Tom protested, "I couldn't even see the ball!"

"I told him to throw it fast!" Owen Paris growled, "You don't think they're going to take pity on you in games, do you?"

"I'm gonna be in LITTLE LEAGUE!!!"

"Don't you dare shout at me!" Owen stormed over to Tom and stood menacingly over him, "Any more of that and you will *severely* regret it. Now get back up there and take the pitch."

Tom gulped and stood back up to face the pitcher. This time he bit back his initial reaction of dodging away from the supersonically paced ball and swung at it. His bat connected with the baseball and sent it flying way across the field, almost making it into the stands. He grinned widely, dropping his bat and jumping up high, punching the air. "I did it, Daddy!"

"That was satisfactory, Thomas. But I expected it to at least make it into the stands."

"But… but I hit a *fast ball*, Dad." Tom said quieter, his sunny smile fading a little, "I haven't ever done that before."

"No, but millions of other people have, it's no big deal. You can still improve. Go and get the ball." Owen said, pointing towards the other end of the field, where the ball had landed.

***

"Tom, your bat is too low, lift it up."

"Kotay, it's heavy, I need a littler one! My best friend, Luke, he's got a new one it's blue and white and he said…"

"Don't start chattering again," Chakotay smiled, "at least not over there, if you're going to give me the motor mouth thing, come here and do it."

Tom ran over to Chakotay, "Luke- he got a new bat, his daddy bought it for him. And he says that he reckons he can get millions of grandslams with it. But I pitched against him and he struck out five times!!! With his new bat and everythin'!"

"You must be a good pitcher, you'll have to throw a couple at me later."

"Sure!" Tom smiled, "Anyway, this bat is too heavy for me, Kotay."

"I told you it was going to be!" Chakotay smiled, "Go get another one then."

"This one be okay?"

"Let's try it."

Five-year old Tom lifted the bat up over his shoulder, finding that it was easier now, and watched as Kotay wound up the pitch. The ball flew at him and he swung his bat, loving the hollow thud the sounded when the bat and ball connected. He reached up and held the tip of his cap while following the flying ball with his eyes. When it passed out of the pitch, way into the empty stands, Tom flung his cap off and raced forwards, jumping into Chakotay's arms.

Chakotay laughed and held Tom into his chest, "Aren't you supposed to be running around the bases at the moment, champ?"

"I did it, Kotay! I hit it way out into the stands! I can be in Major League now!"

"Buddy, you did way more than simply hit the ball! I bet you could be right up there with the greatest players of all time!"

"You think so?"

"I know so."

***

"Tom? Tom?" I shook the teenager's arm worriedly, "Tom, come on, wake up. Hey, you with me?"

Tom's eyes opened and darted around erratically, "Kotay? I did it! I hit the ball, Kotay..."

"Tom?" I frowned worriedly. Tom had crashed out on the couch, breathing heavily and mumbling things as memories came flooding back. Tom was never usually like this after regaining his memories; he was usually quiet and peaceful. Not trembling and scared. "Tom, it's okay, I'm here."

"Dad didn't think I could hit it into the stands, but you knew I could do it, Kotay. You said I could do it, and I did it! But what about my game? I've gotta hit it like that again, Kotay. D'ya think I can do it?"

Tom..." I whispered softly, "I'm calling the Doc, let's get you to sickbay, you shouldn't be like this."

"I can't go to sickbay." Tom whispered, "I've got a game, I'm up next, no time to go to see the Doc..."

"It's going to be alright." I said gently, taking Tom's hand and tapping my Comm badge, "Chakotay to the Doctor."

"Doctor here."

"Can you arrange to transport Tom and myself to sickbay please? Chakotay out." I tapped off my badge and looked worriedly back down at Tom, who's eyes were now tightly closed again against the recollections. The observation lounge shimmered out and sickbay shimmered in.

"What's wrong with him?" The Doctor asked, helping me to lift Tom up onto a biobed.

"Shouldn't you be telling me that?" I asked, watching Tom shaking a little on the bed.

"Mr. Paris?" The Doctor said, "Tom?"

I bent down so that I was close to Tom's ear and said softly, "Tom, we need to know if you can hear us. Can you?"

Tom nodded, his eyes still squeezed closed, "Yeah" he ground out. "The game, Kotay..."

"What game? A baseball game? Tom, can you tell me about it? Tom? Tom?"

***

"Hey, mom!" Tom ran into the house, dumping his school bag on the floor. He picked up his baseball glove and ball from the table and pulled the glove onto his hand, walking through into the kitchen to greet his mom. "Hi!" he said, tossing his ball up and down.

"Hello, Tommy. Your father wants to see you."

"How come?"

She turned and looked to her six-year old son, sighing, "He just does, Tommy. Please go and see him, he's in his office."

"Sure, mom." Tom shrugged, wandering through the house towards his father's study.

Tom crept up behind his father and then suddenly yelled out, "Dad! Catch!" As his father turned around, Tom launched his baseball at his father.

Owen made an attempt to catch the ball but missed, the ball landing on his desk and knocking over a full cup of hot coffee. He turned, glowering, to Tom who was biting his lip nervously. In a sudden burst of rage Owen shot up, stormed over to his son and hit him hard over the head, knocking Tom to the floor.

Shutting his eyes in pain with his ears ringing from the blow, Tom curled himself up defensively, avoiding any more blows. "I'm sorry." He mumbled miserably, knowing that that would placate his irate father a little.

Owen restrained himself and barked out, "Get up."

Tom scrambled to his feet, knowing that to linger would bring him more punishment.

"Give me the glove." Owen said steadily, taking it off Tom when he handed it over, "You're not having this back for three months except for games and practices with me."

Tom opened his mouth to protest but then clamped it shut and blinked back his tears.

"I wanted to see you because I heard that you lost your game today."

Tom blinked. How had he heard that? That game had only been an hour ago. Tom shrugged, "They were a good team and we only lost by two runs."

"You shouldn't lose by any runs."

"Coach said I played well." Tom mumbled, "An' I got three homeruns."

"I don't care." Owen spat, "You still lost the game. You're a disgrace. You're grounded for a month."

"Dad, please..."

"Get out. I don't want to see your face."

Tom sprinted from his father's office to his room, shutting the door behind him. Once there, he sank down behind the door and began to cry.

***

"What's wrong with him, Doc?"

"It's nothing physical." The Doctor said, fiddling with one of his scanners, "He's having violent flashbacks, but I believe these must have been triggered by his regaining the memories. I'm sorry, Commander, but at this moment in time, there is nothing I can do except sedate him."

Chakotay bit his lip and looked over to the sleeping teenager, wondering what he could do to help him. Getting an idea, he tapped his Comm badge, "Chakotay to Captain Janeway."

"Go ahead, Commander. Any news on Tom?"

"He's sedated. Captain, I've got an idea, could you come down to sickbay, I need your help with it."

"Give me fifteen minutes, Commander."

***

"Kotay!" Tom giggled, "Hit it higher!"

"Higher? You think you'll be able to catch it?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay." Chakotay tossed the ball up and then swung his bat so that he hit it high over the six-year old's head.

Tom back-pedalled, following the ball with his eyes as he continued to position his body beneath it. As the ball lowered its position in the sky, he dove back, stretching his glove and just managed to catch it. His body hit the dirt and he winced at the impact as he slid across the ground.

When Tom picked himself up Chakotay was standing above him, asking urgently, "Are you okay, Tom?"

"Yeah." Tom said softly, sitting up and rubbing at his knee, "I caught it, Kotay." He grinned, "Was that the best you could do?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you are simply irrepressible?" Chakotay laughed, "Yes, that was the best I could do, you're quite the little baseball player, aren't you?"

Tom nodded and clambered into Chakotay's lap, saying generously, "Don't worry, Kotay, I'll teach you how to play better."

***

Seventeen-year old Tom Paris stood up to the batting plate and faced the pitcher. He could see his father standing in the stands behind the pitcher, watching him closely. Tom gulped and flexed his fingers on the bat he held behind his shoulder, turning his attention to the ball that was about to fly at him.

The ball left the pitchers hand, curving around, and Tom swung, only to hear the soft pad of the ball landing in the glove of the player behind him and a loud "Strike one."

***

"What do you need help with, Chakotay?" Kathryn asked, walking into the Doctor's office to see Chakotay bent over his console.

Chakotay swung his console around towards Kathryn, showing her the information. "I need you to unlock this file. It's Tom's medical file, some of the information is classified, more specifically the information from when he was seventeen. I have a feeling it might help me as to figuring out what's happening to him now. Can you unlock it for me?"

Kathryn sat down, "I'm not supposed to do this, Chakotay, that information is private..."

"I *know* that." Chakotay said softly, "And I wouldn't even considering asking you to do this if it wasn't Tom and he wasn't so ill. I just want to look out for him."

"Okay, I'll open it for you." Kathryn surrendered, and pulled the terminal towards her, tapping in her access codes.

"Have you seen this information before?" Chakotay asked as it downloaded.

"No." Kathryn replied, "I don't look through my crewmen's medical files unless I get really bored, Chakotay."

Chakotay smiled a little, and looked at the files retrieved. "Oh Gods." He breathed, "This is horrific."

Kathryn couldn't respond, just felt tears welling up from what she was reading. Tom had been severely beaten- within a few inches of life. The medical records showed that every limb had been broken or dislocated, there was bruising to nearly every part of the body and Tom had been on life support for three days.

"Who the hell did this to him?" Chakotay asked, clenching his fists in anger.

"It doesn't say." Kathryn frowned, "Tom never remembered..."

"Or never told." Chakotay said softly. He scanned the file, "Look, here... Tom started having flashbacks after he went for a psychological examination. 'Violent, torment filled flashbacks from his childhood.' I'm betting anything that these are connected to his flashbacks now."

Kathryn nodded, "But it doesn't say specifically how they stopped, just that they did after a period of time."

"Two months. *Two months*? Tom will be twenty-five by that time! There has to be some way to snap him out of it. It says he stopped on the 25th May. That's his birthday. Something must have happened to make him snap out of it..."

"Like what?" Kathryn asked, "We haven't got the slightest idea what happened when Tom was seventeen, none of us have."

Chakotay sighed and looked out to where Tom was sleeping, "We can try and find out though."

***

"STRIKE TWO!!!"

Tom bit his lip hard and adjusted his cap, trying to stay cool. But he couldn't, he just couldn't, not when his father's eyes kept burning into him. It was distracting him so much that he could barely register when the ball left the pitcher's hand.

The pitcher unwound and threw the ball at the teenager, immediately realising it was a mistake. The ball was slow, straight and completely without spin. It would be easy for anybody to hit but TOM PARIS? Tom Paris could slug this ball into orbit.

Tom's father wanted him to win this game, Tom's father had ordered him to win this game, Tom had to win this game. What would happen if he didn't win this game?

The ball sailed past the glazed-eyed blonde.

"STRIKE THREE!!!"

***

"Kathryn!! Come take a look at this!"

Kathryn walked into the Doctor's office, rubbing her eyes, "Chakotay, shouldn't you be getting some sleep? You've been working on this non-stop for twelve hours. You're no good to Tom if you're shattered."

"Just look..." Chakotay motioned her over to his screen, "The night all that happened to Tom, he had just lost a baseball game. The day recorded that Tom stopped having flashbacks he was guaranteed a place on the team next season- it was a surprise for his birthday."

"So?"

"So all this has something to do with baseball. The defeat triggered the event and his being selected for the team stopped his flashbacks."

"Chakotay, you can't select him for the team again."

"I know, but I've got an idea."

***

"Commander, you have been doing nothing but working on this holoprogram and taking care of Tom for the past forty-eight hours. I know what you're doing with Tom, but what is this holoprogram about?"

"It's something which, I hope, will help Tom snap out of his flashback mode." Chakotay said softly.

"Kotay...?" Came a moan from the bed.

"Tom?" Chakotay ran over to the biobed in a flash, "Tom, are you with me, buddy?"

"I lost the game, I missed the ball, he'll be so mad at me..."

Chakotay sighed heavily and took Tom's hand, motioning the Doctor over, "Tom, everything is going to be okay. You're going to go back to sleep now, and we'll try and figure out a way to make you better. Just hold on for me, okay?" Chakotay soothed as the Doctor injected the hypo spray, "You're going to be fine, Tom, just go to sleep and let me work everything out."

Tom's eyes gently closed and Chakotay stood up, dropping Tom's hand, "Doc, I need to run through an idea with you."

***

"You lost the game, Thomas."

"No, dad, please... I couldn't help it. I tried, I'm sorry."

"You let yourself down. More importantly you let your team-mates down, you let your coach down and you let me down. This will not go unpunished, Thomas."

"Dad, I'm sorry..."

"Sorry is never ever good enough, Thomas. And yet you always seem to think that it is. This is much more than a sport, Thomas, this is a projection of your image. This is an advertisement of your worth, and you looked like you were worth absolutely nothing today. You *will* be punished, Thomas."

Tom swallowed hard as he watched his father turn on his heel and walk off into the distance, leaving him in the dark locker room.

***

"Doctor, are you ready?" Chakotay asked.

"Yes, Commander." The Doctor replied. Right now, he was about ready to try anything that might help the teenager. It was the fifth day and Tom's hallucinations had become so violent that he had to be kept sedated for most of the time. Now, however, Tom was just coming around and the Doctor was ready to give Commander Chakotay's plan a shot.

"In that case, energise."

Chakotay and Tom shimmered out of sickbay and entered into a running program on holodeck one. As they landed on the hard, plastic seats Tom, barely conscious, began to sway unsteadily and twitch in confusion. Chakotay immediately supported Tom with his arm and whispered softly, "Tom, I need you to wake up for me."

Tom's eyes remained tightly shut, "They're hurting me..." he murmured.

"Tom, just open your eyes for a second." Chakotay urged, "Just a second for me. Look where you are, you're at a baseball game."

"Wha?" Tom opened his eyes, and whispered, "Baseball? Who?"

"Starfleet Academy First Team versus an Allstars team from the other Federation planets." Chakotay said, incredibly thankful he had Tom's attention, "I found this game in the ship's database. It's supposedly got the greatest grandslam hit of the season in it."

Tom's eyes rolled closed again, "I missed the ball, I lost the game, bad Tom..."

"Tom?" Chakotay shook the teenager, "Hey, Tom, stay with me here. Concentrate on my voice, come on."

With visible effort, Tom complied and his eyes opened. He tussled with words for a few seconds, before whispering, "Game status?"

"Bottom of the ninth, tie score, two men out, Academy team in bat- pretty shattered. Probably couldn't survive another innings. Almost an exact replica of last season's second team Allstar game, really. Next man, excellent, one after... not so good."

"Gotta get a homerun..." Tom murmured.

"That's right." Chakotay smiled, unaware of the flashback. "Wanna know who's next up to bat?"

"Geraghty?" Tom whispered, "Highest run average... he'd win... he can hit the ball... he can hit a slow ball... I can't..."

"Shhh..." Chakotay soothed, squeezing Tom, reassuring the teenager that he was in the present, not his tortured past. "No, it's not Geraghty, it's Tom Paris. Eighteen-years old, the new boy on the team, but I'm telling you, he sure can play baseball."

"Me?" Tom whispered, opening his eyes and fully paying attention. "Kotay, don't let me up there! I'll lose the game! I'll..." Tom buried his face into Chakotay's chest, seeking comfort.

"Hey, it's okay, just watch."

Tom turned his head a little so he could just watch the progress of the game through the corner of his eye.

***

Tom Paris stepped up to the batting plate nervously. He *knew* this was an exact replica of the game he had played in the season before. Everything was down to him again. He'd pleaded with his coach to sneakily change the batting order, to get someone to injure him, to do *something* that would prevent him having to bat. But his attempts had failed and Tom was up here alone. No batters even on the bases, he wouldn't get a chance to run with the next guy- who would immediately strike out- so a full blown homerun was called for. Chewing his lip he touched the tip of his helmet in one of his little idiosyncratic ways and looked out past the pitcher into the stands, not seeing his father.

"STRIKE ONE!"

Pay attention, Tommy boy!!! This is no time to worry about your father, he doesn't worry about you- ever. Tom's father had disowned him a year ago to the day now, saying that Tom was no son of his. Tom had no doubt his father was watching this game on a vid screen, thankful he had got rid of the son who was about to bring disgrace to the family name yet again.

"STRIKE TWO!"

Shit!!! Watch the damn ball! You'll be getting your father so mad! Why was he even bothering freaking so much? His father didn't give a damn, his mom had died, his sisters were someplace else, there was no-one who would care if he blew this. Except maybe his team-mates, his friends... WOAH!!! Ball coming!!! Swing!!!

"FOUL BALL!"

Lucky there, Tommy. Seriously pay attention now. Two strikes, one foul ball. You're dead in one more ball, he's got a whole three more to play with. If this guy's smart he'll walk you. But look at him, he's a Klingon, he won't want to blemish his record. Yet another stroke of luck, you've probably exhausted your luck for today. Look! He's winding up, concentrate now. Curve ball. Adjust. Swing!

"FOUL BALL!"

This is getting scary. What if he *does* walk you, huh, Tommy? Oh, just forget all this. Tom nodded, forget his father, forget his family, he was going to do this for himself. Prove them all wrong. Concentrate on the ball, let the bat swing naturally, go!

Tom didn't hear the call of the umpire for all his cheering team-mates that had leapt on him. Laughing with abandon, he found himself pinned to the floor looking up through the centre of his praising friends, he watched the replay of the ball soaring out of the stadium on the big screen. He heard his name on the loud-speaker, accompanied by loud applause from the supporters. Still giggling, he was pulled up from the ground, lifted up into the air and taken on a victory lap around the bases. Tom threw his head back and stared out at the sky thinking that although he had been outcast by his family, stripped of the Paris name and abandoned by his father this was the best day of his life.

***

"I did it, Kotay." Tom breathed, looking down at the ecstatic replica of himself, "I won."

"Yeah, you did, Tom." Chakotay smiled.

"Man, I bet my father would have been kicking himself for abandoning me. I wish I could see his reaction..."

"You can, Tom," Chakotay said, pointing down through the crowds towards the scene that was taking place.

***

Tom was lifted down from his friend's shoulder and placed on the pitch were he was ambushed by several other people, all hugging him tightly and practically yelling congratulations at him. Then, suddenly, it seemed that the crowd parted to reveal a proud older man standing at the edge of the pitch. Wide-eyed, Tom stumbled forwards, leaving the crowd to party with itself, and making his way over to his father.

"Congratulations, son." Owen whispered.

Tom dropped his helmet onto the ground, still standing a metre or so away from the man he had hated all his life. "Thank you, Sir." He said curtly.

Owen Paris moved forward with open arms to embrace his son, but stopped when Tom leapt backwards, outraged.

"What are you doing?" Tom hissed.

"I'm welcoming you back into the family." Owen said plainly.

Tom's mouth dropped, "It's not that easy, you bastard."

Owen frowned, "Watch your language, Thomas."

"I will." Tom said, "But not because I have any respect for you whatsoever. I will because I don't want to lower myself to that simply because *you* come back into my life. I'm an adult now, father, you have no control over me."

"Surely you're not going to abandon the family that raised you, Thomas. The family that moulded you into the man you claim to be."

"I didn't grow up in a family." Tom hissed, "A family is there through the good times and the bad. A family loves, a family cares and a family comforts. A family does not simply expect and demand, nor do they demean and stigmatise. Do you have any idea how I felt? Suicidal. That was what you drove your *son* to.

"Don't you think I remember, father? You never listened to what I had to say, you never encouraged me, you never had any confidence in my abilities. You abused me. You physically hurt your own flesh and blood. And, in the end, you didn't even do it yourself."

Tom laughed a little, "Those sorts of memories don't go away *ever*. And, trust me on this, I will never ever forgive you for what you put me through, for the person that you made me become. Goodbye." Tom turned on his heel and strode purposefully back towards the cheering crowd, trying his best not to jump up the air and whoop loudly at the ass kicking he had just given his father.

***

"What happened to me?" Tom whispered, still buried into the safety of his best friend, "Last thing I remember we were in the observation lounge."

"You started having flashbacks, Tom."

"That's happened before." Tom whispered, still focused on the partying of the holographic him, "I remember it doing. After the game when I was seventeen, I was in hospital because of it."

Chakotay sighed, "No you weren't. That's not why you were in hospital. You were in hospital because somebody beat you up pretty badly. Tom, do you remember who did it?"

Tom bit his lip for a few seconds and then looked up at Chakotay, "Kotay, shall we delete the holograms and go play ball?"

"Tom..."

Tom turned his shining, pained blue eyes onto the man, "Please, Kotay, don't make me think about it just yet."

"Fine." Chakotay sighed, "But, Tom, you know that I'm here for you, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do, and I'm so grateful for that, Kotay. I'm just feeling a little messed up at the moment, let me sort my head out?"

"Okay."

***

"Y'know," Tom said, as he swung at another pitch from Chakotay, knocking it out into the stands, "all my favourite memories are with you. When... when I was having the flashback things, I remembered playing baseball with my dad- and he was horrible, so demanding. Until you I never believed that it could all be about fun."

"Everything's about fun, Tom." Chakotay said softly, ordering the computer to retrieve all the balls Tom had slogged. "Life's no good if you don't live it."

Tom smiled and touched the tip of his hat yet again, wondering why he did that. Probably just a Tom Paris thing. "Kotay, you need some fielders. Computer, show fielders." He watched the team appear around the diamond, "There, that makes it more interesting."

Smiling, Chakotay pitched a few more at the teenager and said, "So what happened after the game when you were seventeen?" He continued at Tom's defensive look, "Tom, I care about you, I only want to sort things out."

Tom tapped his bat on the floor, not meeting Chakotay's eyes, "My father was disappointed in me; he had every right to be- I lost the game after all. He said he didn't want me to play baseball anymore, that I would just disgrace the family further. When I refused, he- he got a few of his friends to make sure I'd never play baseball again. Although, it didn't quite work out as he planned. They messed with my head as well as my body and I guess that's how the flashbacks started, that coupled with the fact that I was completely alone. But I snapped out of it when the Academy guaranteed me a place on the first team. I was just *so* happy, Kotay. I didn't give a damn about my father when I was accepted onto that team."

Chakotay gaped in shock, "Your *father* did that to you? You were so badly injured... a father wouldn't do that to their son..."

"Believe me, Kotay, he did." Tom sighed and swung his bat around hard, hitting the imaginary image of his father in the head, "He didn't care about me. Soon after that he disowned me, I was wiped from the family book. If it wasn't for my baseball scholarship I would have been out of the Academy in a flash and I would have lost my wings too."

"He disowned you then?" Chakotay blinked, "I thought that didn't happen until Cal..." Chakotay bit off his sentence.

"What? What were you about to say?" Tom dropped his bat and thundered to the pitcher's mound, demanding, "Kotay? Tell me."

"It's nothing, Tom, really."

"Well then if it's nothing then you can tell me!" Tom pleaded, "Nothing else bad is going to happen, is it? Tell me I'm on a straight officer's course from now, Kotay. Graduate from the Academy, move through the ranks and end up as Chief helmsman on Voyager, right?"

"Tom, let's just play ball..."

"Oh, Gods..." Tom's eyes widened, "There's something else. Kotay, please tell me. Please."

"I can't, Tom, not now. I'm sorry..."

"Great." Tom huffed, "Just when my life couldn't suck anymore. Just great..."

Chakotay watched Tom throw down his bat and cap and call for the exit arch. He let his arms fall to his sides and sighed, "Tom, please, don't walk out." It didn't work. The blonde teenager still stormed out of the arch. Chakotay hung his head, letting the brown glove fall off his left hand, thinking that the torment for Tom would never end. He ended the program and walked after Tom.

***

Chakotay found Tom in the Observation Lounge. The pilot's back was to him and he was staring out at the stars. Chakotay took a step forward, letting the doors close behind him, and he softly ordered a privacy lock. He walked over to Tom's couch and sat down next to him, noticing that there were tears streaming down the blonde's face. Chakotay thought that was a particular tragedy; those blue eyes could sparkle so brightly, they shouldn't be allowed to be made miserable. "Tom..." he whispered, unable to find any other words.

Tom sniffed, making no effort to wipe the moisture from his cheeks. "I hate my life, Kotay." He said softly.

Chakotay swallowed hard. Here was a tortured little boy who had grown up wanting nothing more than to fly away and feel himself soar in freedom. A person who desperately wanted to please and to impress. How could the universe let such horrible things happen to such a good, happy person? Humanity was certainly wasting away. And so many people would go along with their own thing, laughing and smiling, ignoring the children living in misery. How could Tom even go through a day without losing all faith in everything?

Yet Chakotay had done his utmost best to make Tom's second life as enjoyable as possible for the young man. Maybe some things hadn't been smooth sailing, what with the K'Tra and Tom's memories recollection, but who's childhood was a breeze? Chakotay had hoped things this time around were a lot better for Tom. He shifted a bit in his seat and asked quietly, "You hate your life now?"

"Oh, no..." Tom realised his mistake and turned to face Chakotay, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, Kotay. I love my second life with you, it's being great. I just hate my first life. I mean, to me, I haven't actually done any of these things I'm remembering. I don't *deserve* to feel like this, I don't think I deserved it the first time around. I hate having to remember stuff I haven't even done."

"But you have, Tom. This is you. You've been given an opportunity to become a different person and develop under different stimuli, but don't forget your first life. Sure, most bits weren't all that nice, but there has to be some good things you don't want to forget."

Tom danced his hands in his lap, "Maybe orbiting earth for the first time. That was great. And my mom- she was a beautiful person. And flying to every star in Orion's Belt- I always remember loving that constellation. I loved the story behind it, where Orion was put up in the stars, safe from everything that was hurting him. I liked that idea..."

Chakotay smiled painfully, "See, honey, good things..."

"You called me honey again." Tom said good-naturedly, "You keep on doing that."

"I'm sorry, I sometimes forget you're not a kid anymore. I'll stop."

"No, don't." Tom said with a little smile, "I kinda like you showing that you give a damn about me. Although 'honey' doesn't really give me the cool teenage image I was going for."

"I'll always give a damn about you." Chakotay assured the blonde.

"Good." Tom smiled, but then it faded and he asked miserably, "So there's more bad stuff to come, huh?"

Chakotay sighed and put his arm around Tom, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Nah, it's okay, Kotay. You're allowed one slip up." Tom grinned a little, "So I'm guessing you're not going to tell me, big guy?"

"*Big guy*???" Chakotay laughed incredulously. "That's a new one. No, I'm not going to tell you, Tom. I'm sorry but I don't want anything bad on your mind for the next few weeks. We're going to have fun. Just try to put all this to the side until next Friday, hmmm?"

"I'll try." Tom said softly.

"Good." Chakotay sat in silence for a few minutes before remembering something and standing up, "Oh yeah, I remember I had something for you..." he stood up and wandered over to the console unit, accessing the transporters and beaming in the object. "I wasn't all too sure whether today actually counted, but I figured what the hell. I haven't got a clue how old this makes you but, happy birthday."

Tom beamed widely, "Aw, thanks, Kotay. You didn't have to."

"I know." Chakotay handed Tom the package. "It's something you kind of murmured when you were having your flashbacks and I remembered it from something you told me when you were five."

Tom frowned and ripped the paper off the package, revealing a black and red baseball glove with one of the old style white balls. He smiled widely, turning the presents over in his hands, "My glove..." he breathed.

"You got them for your fifth birthday, remember?"

"Yeah... off my mom. My dad thought they were too expensive. And then he confiscated them and never gave them back. Kotay, these are the best, thank you." Tom gave the man a quick hug.

Chakotay laughed, "Plus I abused my Command status to book you fifteen hours on the holodeck and thirty hours in a shuttle this week. And there's something else..."

"What?" Tom asked eagerly, overwhelmed that he'd received so much already.

"Well, Ensign Hargreeves has scheduled Thursday and Friday as her days off and I was working the schedule, finding that I could really use another pilot to cover her shift. You want the job?"

"Yeah!" Tom exclaimed, eyes brightened considerably, "You mean pilot *Voyager*!?!?" Chakotay nodded and Tom's mouth dropped, "Yes!!! Kotay, I would love to! I can't believe... you're serious, right?"

"Totally." Chakotay smiled.

"Wow, I would love to!" Tom beamed.

"Well, that's that sorted." Chakotay sighed and stood up, "What's say we head back to the holodeck and pick allstar teams? I'm betting mine will beat yours."

"No chance, Kotay." Tom grinned and stood up, following his bestest friend to the holodeck.