A/N: I was going to write about an actual battle situation on Voyager from Icheb and Naomi's perspective, but it didn't quite work out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy what happened instead :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Watch This Space

Icheb steadied himself as the ship rocked beneath him. He glanced towards Naomi's bedroom in concern, he wasn't exactly babysitting but Samantha liked to have someone else around when she was on duty and Naomi was asleep.

Icheb was often the logical choice as he was usually there in the evening to help Naomi with her homework and, having no quarters of his own, he could then continue his own studies in relative comfort once she had gone to bed.

Tonight looked like it would be one of those rare occasions when having someone else around for Naomi would be an advantage.

He suppressed a sigh as the ship rocked once more and the lights went out.

The third shockwave was stronger than the others and he only just stopped himself from falling out of the chair. He had barely steadied himself when Naomi's cry of terror had him leaping to his feet without a second thought.

He stopped short as he found the doorway blocked by a fallen bulkhead.

"Naomi?" he called out, attempting to locate her in the dim lighting as he peered passed the bulkhead.

"Naomi?" he tried again, more insistent as she made no reply and the ship rocked again, causing more debris to fall from the ceiling.

"Naomi?" he repeated, this time trying to push passed the bulkhead. He silently thanked his enhanced Borg strength as he managed to move it far enough to allow him to squeeze into the room.

He sucked in a breath as he made out the piles of debris scattered about the room and another, larger piece of bulkhead on the bed itself.

He took a deep breath and stepped towards the bed, "Naomi?"

Once again she made no response and he swallowed his rising panic as he caught sight of where she was trapped underneath the bulkhead.

He slapped his COMM-badge as he quickened his pace, "Icheb to Sickbay."

He frowned as he got no response, "Icheb to Sickbay," he tried again as he reached Naomi's side. Muttering a few choice Klingon words he'd picked up from B'Elanna, Icheb checked for Naomi's pulse. It was slow, but steady and Icheb sighed with relief.

He turned his attention to the bulkhead and checked its weight experimentally. It was heavy but he didn't think it would be impossible to shift it. He looked back down at Naomi and frowned as he caught sight of the blood glistening on her cheek in the starlight.

"I am not afraid," he muttered to himself firmly as he turned his attention back to the bulkhead. "She is not going to die," he added as he braced himself and lifted the bulkhead.

He repeated this mantra to himself several times as he carefully (and painfully) inched the bulkhead off her. "I will not let her die," he said through gritted teeth as he shifted his hold on the bulkhead, careful not to let it fall on her again.

"Resistance is futile," he told the bulkhead grimly as he got it to the end of her bed and let it fall to the ground.

He took a moment to breathe as he considered his next move, ignoring the shakiness in his muscles from the exertion. He moved to check on her once more and was relieved to see that she was breathing more easily.

Absently he wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand as he began to clear a pathway to the door. He stifled a groan as he moved the bulkhead obscuring the door further out of the way.

His way clear he returned to the bed and carefully peeled the blankets off Naomi, assessing her for any further injuries as he did so. Satisfied that it would be safe to move her, he gently lifted her up and headed towards to door, ignoring his protesting muscles.

He would rest once she was safe.

It was a sign of how much damage the ship had sustained that no one spared them a glance as he made his way to Sickbay in the flickering light. Not that he would have accepted their help if they had, Naomi was his responsibility and he was determined to get her to the Doctor.

Mercifully, the turbolifts were still operational and he made it to Sickbay without incident. But his hopes of finally getting her to safety were dashed as he found Sickbay full of more wounded.

"I'm sorry, Icheb," Tom said as he scanned Naomi, "but she'll have to wait, we have more serious casualties to attend to."

"But she hasn't woken up," Icheb protested as Tom moved to assist a wounded crewmember who came stumbling into Sickbay.

"I'm sorry," Tom said again, glancing over his shoulder at him, "you can leave her over there," he offered, gesturing to an empty stretcher. "We'll get to her as soon as we can. I promise," he added as he moved off to help the Doctor.

"I'm not going to leave her," Icheb protested, but Tom didn't seem to hear him.

Icheb assessed his options, he didn't like the idea of leaving Naomi on a stretcher like Tom had suggested. He was supposed to be taking care of her and, even though he knew it was irrational, he didn't want to let her go until he knew she would be safe.

His decision made, he moved over to a quiet corner of Sickbay and took a seat on the floor, Naomi still cradled in his arms. He shifted her into a more comfortable position in his lap and then rested his head on the wall behind him, closing his eyes.

The next thing he knew was someone gently trying to gently prise Naomi out of his grasp, unconsciously he tightened his hold. "She's hurt," he mumbled, opening his eyes, "be careful."

Tom looked faintly amused, "I know, Icheb, I'll take care of her. I promise." Icheb blinked up at him and Tom fought back a smile, "Can I take her now?" he asked.

"Of course," Icheb replied, shifting his hold on her so that Tom could lift her easily out of his arms.

"Not so fast," the Doctor intoned, stepping in Icheb's way as he got unsteadily to his feet.

"I'm not going anywhere," Icheb assured him, making to follow Tom.

"I should think not," the Doctor retorted, once again stepping in his way. "You also require treatment," he informed him, running a scan.

"Shouldn't you be treating Naomi?" Icheb protested.

"Mr. Paris is quite capable of treating her injuries," the Doctor informed him as he guided Icheb to a bio-bed, "but he's not so familiar with your Borg systems." The Doctor frowned as he continued to run his scan, "Your biradial clamp is out of alignment by point eight microns, I'm going to have to repair it." He sighed, "What have you been doing?"

"Naomi needed my help," Icheb explained simply as the Doctor went to retrieve a tray of medical instruments.

"Very heroic, I'm sure," the Doctor countered, as he began to treat him, "but you should also consider your own health."

Icheb looked him straight in the eye, "Heroics are irrelevant. Naomi was my responsibility, I had to make sure she was safe."

"Well, you did an excellent job," Tom interjected before the Doctor could respond, still treating Naomi, "Sam will be pleased."

Icheb meant to explain that gratitude was also irrelevant, but he was surprised when it came out as a yawn.

"Time to regenerate," the Doctor told him firmly, shutting his tricorder.

Icheb glanced over at Naomi.

"She'll be fine," Tom assured him, answering his unspoken question, "go get some rest."

Icheb nodded and left Sickbay without another word. The Doctor shook his head as the doors closed behind him, "I don't know what got into him."

Tom grinned, "Just watch this space, Doc."

The Doctor gave him a quizzical look but Tom just winked.

...

A/N: In case it sounds familiar, I used an injury Seven once sustained - but made it slightly worse - for Icheb.