First off I apologize for not continuing this sooner, but seeing as I wasn't going to continue it at all I suppose this is better than nothing ;) Thanks to the four of you who reviewed before. I really appreciate that!
Warning: Deals with concept of torture and stuff…I hope it came across decently. This is not beta'd.
Reckoning To Come
Fear, there was always fear but it was only a drop of water in the ocean compared to the pain. The endless suffering pain, their cries, screams, death. It was the place most people didn't know existed, and those that did know never really understood what it was. Oh they tried, they believed they knew from injuries, medical files, counselling reports, descriptions of how it was. The truth…even to people who lived through it, which was too rare for words, was always to much to comprehend fully. It was like looking through a fogged glass pane, seeing everything on the other side but not being able to see enough to get the entire picture. Well he, he was more like an obsidian plate, you saw everything he wished for you to see on its black reflection, a meal that was given but the ingredients were lost.
He was back now, on Voyager, wandering through the halls at an ungodly hour in the morning simply because he was to agitated to sleep. His adrenalin refused to stop secreting, refused to let him relax. He'd been back for five days, five wonderful days where he'd been praised by few and ignored by many. It was exactly as he'd thought it would be. Every day he felt himself slipping a little more, wanting to give into urges to scream at every one of these ignorant people. His nostrils flared as he breathed in heavily through his nose, an attempt for control. They didn't know anything, and he knew too much.
He always knew too much.
Tom finally found himself back in front of his quarters, letting himself in quietly he prepared to spend more time shutting himself away from the world, his ship. And the cycle bled on.
()()()()()
"There's something wrong with him Neelix." He frowned at his little pixie, slightly agitated at her concern for the pilot and more agitated that it might have merit. His sweet Kes was hardly ever wrong with her feelings.
"How so?" It was her turn to frown, her eyebrows drawing together in a cute little pout.
"I don't know. I just…he's different and at the same time I don't think he's changed. Something happened to him maybe, something he's not telling us."
"Something from when he was with that Seska woman and the Kazon?"
"Maybe. I don't know."
"Well sweetums, I wish I could help but if you don't know I don't see what we can do. Maybe if you spoke with someone who knows him better, like Mr. Kim, or the captain." He tried to suggest helpfully. Her frown deepened.
"I spoke with Harry earlier, he said Tom was fine, a little tired but his normal cocky self. The captain has been to busy to notice anything."
"Well, perhaps the commander will know how to help. He is the unofficial councillor onboard, or perhaps Mr. Vulcan will know." She sighed and nodded tiredly in agreement. She only wished she knew what was wrong.
()()()()()
"Comander? Could I have a moment with you please?" The well built man looked up from his dinner to the sparkling blue eyes of the resident Ocampan, and held back a frown at her serious look.
"Of course Kes, please, have a seat." When she settled she looked right at him, it was obvious she wasn't one to beat around the bush.
"Commander how well do you know Lieutenant Paris." He was immediately wary, his nerves being poked at by the mere mentioning of the pilots name.
"Well enough. Why?" he noticed she frowned slightly at his comment but ignored it. It wasn't a secret that he didn't like Paris, and right now after that rude apology over Neelix's show the blonde was even lower in his regard than usual.
"I think there is something bothering him, something beyond normal ship duties."
"Why would you think this?" He tried to sound interested, for Kes's sake.
"It's his aura, its disturbed somehow but it hasn't changed." He frowned now, he knew she could read people extraordinarily well, almost empathically. If she was this worried about Tom it was his obligation to really listen.
"If it hasn't changed than why is there a problem? Everyone is disturbed sometimes, especially out here in the quadrant." He stopped when she began to shake her head in denial.
"No, not Tom. He's one of the most collected people on this ship!" He wanted to laugh at that but held back because of the seriousness in her tone. She thought she was really onto something with the pilot. "I'm worried Commander. He's radiating his darkness more and it scares me. I don't know what happened on that Kazon ship Commander but whatever it was must not have been pleasant. I think he needs help, I just don't know why or what kind."
"His darkness?"
"Yes. Comander you know what I'm talking about. That inner part of someone that is kept hidden, its anger and hate and there's so much of it Chakotay! And it's been with him all along, I realize that now but it's beginning to come to emerge within him." He was beginning to worry now, if Tom was this upset over something that happened on the Kazon ship, and he didn't know what that could be, than it needed to be dealt with.
"Do you feel he could be a danger to anyone?"
"I don't know. I doubt it, unless he had reason, he's too in control for that. Understand Commander, he's not controlled by it, it doesn't feel like it will change anything about how he acts to other people. But I wanted to let you know about it. Maybe you could help him." She looked hopeful and he sighed.
"I'll try Kes, but Tom and I don't get along all that great. He might not even talk to me and I can't force him to."
"As long as you're aware Commander. Thank you." She smiled a confident smile and rose from the seat, heading back to the galley. He poked at his food, glad it was a cold meal in the first place and began to eat. He'd go and talk to Tom later.
()()()()()
Tom rose from the pilot seat and stretched slightly, hearing the satisfied crack of some vertebrae. As much as he loved piloting Voyager that chance to stretch at the end of shift was always something to look forward to. He gazed quickly around the bridge, assessing that things were okay and then headed to the turbolift. Most of the alpha shift had already cleared out but Baytart had been caught up in sickbay getting a broken finger healed, he only just managed to get on shift.
He put effort into making his stride as casual as normal, he ignored the glare from the Ensign at Ops, an ex-maquis that was still irked about his previous attitude to Chakotay. He shrugged it off, just as he did almost every time he passed one of them. His status on the ship had been set back to squareone because of his last mission and it was all Seska's fault. His heart jumped at the thought of her name, anger dominant to the fear but the fear always lurked. He hated his weakness, he hated Seska, he more than hated the Cardassians.
The rage erupted in no time at all and he found himself rushing to his quarters, changing into sweats and a baggy t-shirt and he headed to the gym. Storming in he took little notice of the one other occupant who was running a marathon on the tread path at the other end of the room. Tom headed straight to the punching bag, slipping on thin knuckle covering gloves and he went at it with a fury that he had not yet released on Voyager except in the privacy of the holodeck.
Her face consumed him, her hateful grin that showed teeth he imagained were as sharp as razors. The diamond like ridge on her forehead sticking out like a bullseye, it dared him to try and shoot her in between the eyes. But when the time came, if he could help it, she would die slowly, and painfully, piece by piece. He would slowly rip her apart like her kind had done to him, to those others that he couldn't save. He couldn't save them, even though he would have gladly traded his life for there's they wouldn't take it. They'd wanted more and more and more and oh god the little boy and girl! He acknowledged a sharp pain in his hands as he pummelled the bag but he didn't stop, the horrors and pain consuming him and the bag was Seska, it was Cardassia, it was the death of a race…
A hand gripped his shoulder, lightly, and he snapped around like a whip grabbing his attacker and slamming it against the wall. His forearm plastered against the pale throat ready to choke the life out or snap the neck given any reason. His nostrils flared nosily his jaw locked shut like a bull dog and he looked up into the dark eyes of a man lost in shock. Chakotay. And reality flooded back like the bursting of Hoover dam and he began to release the rock still man but suddenly found himself being whipped around and thrown to the ground.
He didn't struggle at all as the air was knocked from his chest and his arms were twisted up and painfully across his back. He tried to catch his breath, his mind focused on what he'd done. He's attacked Chakotay. He'd lost control over his emotions where people could get hurt and he attacked Chakotay. He could have killed him. He was so stupid!
Chakotay leaned against the wall, remembering to breath as he looked at the man pinned to the floor by two security guards. Ayala looked up at him, concern in his eyes as he pinned the pilot ruthlessly to the ground.
"Are you okay Commander?" Chakotay snapped back to reality in an instant.
"I'm fine, glad I brought you along though." He grinned slightly but it faded when Ayala didn't respond, his dark eyes now focused on the man underneath him, a drown covered his handsome face.
"Commander?" Chakotay stepped over to them and bent over slightly to see what Ayala now pointed at. Toms back had been exposed in is removal from Chakotay and fall to the ground, his shirt rode up to the centre of his back, his pale and well muscled flesh was slick with a fine layer of sweat. His heaving chest and a slight tremor the only movement in the room as three pairs of eyes focused.
The bare patch of skin was slightly risen in a mottle of rigid flesh, the shape of a diamond. Underneath it a series of Cardassian hieroglyphs that were all too familiar to the experienced Maquis eye. And never seen by either on a live being before. It was a prison number, for CianKa Adasta. Chakotay froze, as still as a statue along with Ayala. The third man, Ensign Sidor, didn't know what the problem was but kept quiet, watching the two men and gazing in curiosity at the painful looking tattoo. A hand, Ayala's free one, reached out and gently, so gently, brushed his index finger across the violent marking as if to test that it was really there. That was all it took to shatter the silence that had overcome them.
Tom Paris had finally snapped back into the present time noticing the deathly silence. He didn't know what to think of it, until a feather light finger brushed his back, across that spot. The one marking he'd kept to remind him. He panicked. He body started to thrash as he attempted to twist away from the tight grips, he swore in a language that he was sure none of them knew and then felt himself rolling away on his own violation, his arms released.
He stilled on his stomach and snapped his head to glare at the three men even as he pushed himself up to a standing position. He was still an inch taller than all of them and he felt himself shut his emotions off. Now was not the time, and it appeared that the Commander didn't know what to say.
"You shouldn't grab a guy when he's working out Commander. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine Lieutenant. I apologize, I should have known better than to approach you the way I did when you were that focused." Tom nodded stiffly, unconsciously pulling his shirt lower across his back.
"Will there be any reprimands sir?" He asked casually, finally becoming aware of a throbbing in his hand, he didn't glance at it.
"No. I do however want you to report to sickbay and get that hand looked it. Some fingers look broken." It appeared the Commander had gotten a good look though, at a number of things.
"Yes sir." He left, not waiting for a proper dismissal, and in the hallway he stifled a scream of frustration. They knew, things wouldn't be the same again. The couldn't. God he was so stupid!
Chakotay dismissed ensign Sidor, who gave them both an apprehensive look before departing and he turned to find Ayala staring at him.
"CianKa Adasta." He almost whispered. "He's…a survivor of that place and nobody knew! How could we not know!"
"I don't know." Cakotay answered shaking his head slowly in thought.
"I mean we knew everybody who went in there! So did Starfleet! How could he be missed! And how the hell did he manage to survive. My God Chakotay! All this time and we've treated him so horribly!" There was only one thing that ever got to Ayala this much and that was the misfortune of others at the hands of Cardassian's. Cakotay was still trying to link what he knew of the Cardassian main prisoner of war detention camp with Tom Paris. There was no way the young man had been there, and yet it seemed he had been. Its amazing how much one scar could change you entire perception of a human being. He breathed out deeply and shook his head slowly.
"Don't spread this around Ayala. He deserves his privacy." After an confirmation nod he turned and left. He needed to speak with the Captain and her security officer about this. If they knew about this than to say that Chakotay was going to rip them a new one was underestimating him, like he'd underestimated Tom.