30x300 by -yannik-
DAY SIX
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One-two-three. Seven steps forward, seven steps back. And so on.
Chime. Neelix. Leola root. The only time to talk.
Neelix handed him the tray.
"How's B'Elanna?" Tom inquired.
Neelix looked up, looked him in the eyes. Strained, but eager. He smiled lightly.
"She's fine…"
Tom nodded in understanding, eyeing yellow-shirt. Chomsky was observing them, non-sympathetic at all. How to say that much, in so little time, so little words?
"Tell her…"
"No nonessential conversation!" the guard reminded.
Chomsky, you asshole!
Neelix nodded, still smiling. His Talaxian eyes said more than words could. He'll tell her. He'll tell her Tom asked – if nothing more.
She's fine. Tom smiled to himself in his loneliness. At least she was fine. She didn't suffer, didn't hurt, didn't… miss him. Was that what it meant? She was fine, because she… didn't care.
Tom swallowed hard. No. He had to stop thinking that way. Neelix said that, because it was the first thing he thought about. She's fine, because nothing bad happened. She's normal, as usual.
But how can she be as usual? Nothing is as usual! And if she doesn't realize that, then she doesn't really love him! She doesn't feel it's different! She has her engines all right, and it doesn't matter if he comes to her at night or not, if he eats dinner, or breakfast with her or not, if she comes to meet him at Sandrine's.
Breakfast in the Messhall. Sandrine's. Everything. How he missed all those simple things! How he wanted to sit at the table, joking at another Neelix's invention with her, with Harry. Even with Neelix himself. He didn't want to be here all alone! He needed someone!
"Chomsky, you bastard!"
No reaction. Well trained soldier.
"Bastard…"
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t.b.c.