Second Chances: Epilogue
Stardate 55398
November 2378
Hawaii, Earth
It was the crying of an infant that woke Lt. Commander Tom Paris from sleep. "I got him," he grumbled, dramatically throwing off the blanket. B'Elanna murmured something next to him as she rolled over, something that sounded suspiciously like threats to throw him out of an airlock.
"No one's throwing you out of an airlock, Nate," he assured his son as he lifted the two-month-old out of the bassinet at the foot of the bed. Nate seemed unimpressed with the promise, his face red and screwed up in the expression of protest that appeared to be one of his favorite expressions, his screams reminding everyone in the apartment and probably the entire building that he had three lungs and was not afraid to use them all to full capacity.
Tom made his way to the replicator and punched in the commands, removing the bottle that appeared there a few seconds later. "Here you go, buddy," he murmured. Nate's cries stopped immediately, his full attention now focused on getting in as much nutrients as quickly as possible.
The infant otherwise occupied—for the moment—Tom glanced around, frowning as a shadowy figure out on the lanai came into focus. "It's after midnight," he informed Izzy as he stepped out to join her.
"I know," Izzy said matter-of-factly, her attention still focused on the PADD in her hands.
"Flying or soccer?" Tom asked, settling in on the lounger next to her. Izzy took her attention away from the PADD long enough to give her brother a kiss on the head and settle in against her father's side.
"Soccer," she said, turning the PADD so they could both watch. If they had been at home, he would have transferred the vid to the large monitor they had out on the deck, but he didn't mind having his daughter curled up against him so they could both watch on her PADD. He did miss their house, though, missed the two stories filled with their own furniture and giving them enough space for three people to live together without tripping over each other, missed the small holosuite where he worked on his programs, B'Elanna did her training programs, and Izzy practiced her soccer drills and flight skills. He missed the big yard, the deck with the comfortable furniture and the entertainment system and the grill, missed the park right out the front door where Izzy played soccer, the primary school less than half a kilometer to the right and the hangar less than a kilometer to the left, where they kept their two shuttles, the S-Class shuttle—Valentina, Izzy had named it; she had taken her duty to name it very seriously, and after Tom informed her that shuttles were named after explorers, researched until she settled on the first name of the first human woman in space—and the larger family shuttle that they were working on restoring. The Careys were next door, and he missed the ease of hanging out on the deck with a beer and talking about nothing in particular with Joe or asking Sean to watch over Izzy for a few hours so he and B'Elanna could have a date night.
"Ainsley found it for her Sports Journalism class," Izzy informed him. "Earth used to have these really big games every four years. They called it the World's Cup or something. She found vids from the 2019 tournament."
"How'd she find that?" Tom asked, impressed. Most media from before the Third World War was lost forever.
"I dunno," Izzy replied.
"Who's playing?" As if it would make a difference; it wasn't like he knew anything about soccer in the early 21st century to know if it had been a good game or not.
"United States of America and the Netherlands," Izzy informed him. "It's the final game. She couldn't find all the games in the whole tournament, but I've watched a bunch of others. She told me I shouldn't look up who won."
"And did you?" Tom asked with a smile.
"No," she replied, "but I think it's going to be the America team. They're a lot better." A year ago, he wouldn't have been able to say one way or the other if that was true, but he had learned a lot about soccer in the last year. Commander Ford, their family counselor on Mars, had suggested that he involve himself in Izzy's activities and interests and grow a relationship from there, and he dove in headfirst. He learned about soccer, even getting certified as a referee, although he obviously couldn't ref her games. He got his flight coaching certification and was now coaching the 10 and under age groups on Izzy's new flight team. Missing her first six years, he and Izzy would never have the same kind of relationship that she and B'Elanna had, or that he and Nate would someday have, but he never wanted her to doubt that he loved her and would always try to understand the things that were important to her. "What does this mean?" she asked, pointing to the display, at a sign a spectator was holding up. 'Equal pay? Women deserve more!'
He didn't know if she was asking what 'pay' meant, as she had lived her whole life on Earth or Mars and didn't understand that there was a whole currency-based economy just below the shiny veneer of the Federation, or if she was asking about the historical concept of that sign in particular. "I don't know," he said honestly. The early 21st century was several decades outside of his area of interest, when it came to history. It was cruder, the politics and the societies and even the entertainment showing the fissures that would soon erupt into the beginnings of the largest war Earth had ever seen. Life had been real enough for him while he was growing up, and he had craved the escape of the optimism displayed in the United States of America as they established themselves as the world power following the previous world war.
He knew he should have been encouraging her to go to bed, but just didn't have it in him. It was too nice out, and it wasn't as if they had anywhere to go or anything to do the next day that required anyone to set an alarm—as if Nate would allow anyone in the apartment sleep in to the point that they needed an alarm. He knew B'Elanna and Izzy missed Hawaii sometimes, missed the heavy humid air and the sound of the waves, and didn't feel a need to deprive Izzy of that any sooner than he had to. They would be heading out in a few days and leaving Hawaii behind; there was no harm in letting her enjoy the fresh air while she stayed up to finish watching a video of a soccer game that concluded centuries before.
It had been a year—to the day, as it was now after midnight—since Voyager had docked at McKinley Station and her crew beamed down to Earth. He couldn't believe it had been that long, and simultaneously couldn't believe he had ever been away from the life he currently enjoyed, the life with the house on Mars, the job at R&D and the graduate studies he had been neglecting since parental leave started, the seven-year-old daughter who had all the best parts of both of her parents, the new baby who didn't sleep. He remembered that look on B'Elanna's face when they found out she was pregnant again, that split second of terror before the uncertain joy. He couldn't exactly blame her for that; the last time she had been pregnant, he had up and died on her and left her to raise Izzy alone. But there were no missions to the Badlands this time, nothing that took him any further away from his family than the odd trip to Earth either he or B'Elanna took. Dr. Gault had, to no one's surprise, again insisted on B'Elanna delivering at Starfleet Medical, and they decided to take the parental leave she had imagined they would have the first time around. They debated which tropical location to make their home base for their few months on Earth, and ultimately ended up in an apartment just down the beach from where B'Elanna and Izzy had lived during the Pathfinder era. For the first few weeks after Nate was born, they spent most of their time lounging around the beach, Tom helping Izzy with her school work and taking her to soccer and flight practices, and then they gradually started spending more and more time away, first with day trips and then stretches of several days around Earth, showing Izzy—and Nate, although he couldn't appreciate it—the planet that Tom had called home for most of his life.
And this would be it. The formal evening on the one-year anniversary of Voyager's return, and the much more casual gathering the next day. One for the brass, and the other for the crew. And then on Sunday, they would again leave Earth behind.
Tom checked on Nate to find him finished with the bottle and sliding into one of his rare periods of sleep. He kissed Izzy on the top of her head and adjusted her to him, and together they watched the United States of America Women's Team beat the Netherlands 2-0.
The large banquet hall at the Starfleet Conference Center was decked out for the occasion: fancy centerpieces at the table, a woodwind quartet in the corner providing background music, uniformed stewards wandering around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of champagne. "Starfleet does like a good show," B'Elanna murmured as she accepted a glass of champagne.
"Mm-hmm," Tom replied. He was already feeling antsy; these were the people he had spent more than six and a half years with, yet everything felt…wrong. It was too formal, too stuffy, with the fancy decorations and everyone in the dress uniforms or formal attire. These were the people he had laughed with, fought with, cried with, played with, lived with, every minute of every day for more than six years, and dressing up and putting on a show for each other didn't feel right. Tomorrow, he reminded himself, taking a glass of champagne for himself. They would have their real party the next day. This was about Starfleet. Tomorrow would be about them.
He spotted Joe and Sarah and felt himself begin to relax. "When did you guys get in?" he asked.
"Yesterday morning," Sarah replied. "And we're leaving on Sunday. My parents immediately began the guilt trip about not seeing enough of their grandsons." Joe had debated leaving Starfleet after they returned, but ultimately accepted B'Elanna's offer to be her deputy on the Voyager project at UP. While she had the engineering and academic background necessary for the task of taking everything apart to learn how they had survived more than six hard years in the Delta quadrant without a Federation dry dock and reverse engineering the modifications—Borg and otherwise—that had been made, nobody knew those engines better than Joe. Sarah had been hesitant about leaving Earth for Mars, especially with Sean about ready to start secondary school, but the change had been good for them. Sean was like Joe—good with his hands, less so with the books—and if college was in his future, it would be many years off, likely after some sort of trade school. Mars didn't have the best secondary schools, but he didn't need the best secondary schools. He needed his father in his life every day, and was proving to be quite the budding mechanic as he and Joe worked on restoring a shuttle that Joe had rescued from the scrap yard. "And gods, B'Elanna! There's no way you just had a baby two months ago! Is that your pre-pregnancy dress uniform?" It was; B'Elanna hadn't been sure about packing it when they left Mars, as she wasn't sure it would fit and would be able to replicate a new one in either case, but those Klingon genetics had certainly asserted themselves in her post-partum recovery. "How is Nate? Where is Nate?"
"My sister is watching him," Tom answered. "Although my brother-in-law isn't happy about that. Last time she took care of one of our kids, she changed specialties, joined Starfleet, and wanted another kid."
"There's no way Jason is going to agree to a fifth baby," B'Elanna protested. "At this point, worst that can happen is she decides that these kids are too much and she's done with Starfleet and goes back to being a general pediatrician." She turned back to Sarah. "Nate's a lot crankier than Izzy was. Still doesn't sleep at all, so I guess that's something our kids just don't do. Parenting is much easier this time around, though."
"Really?" Sarah asked. "I thought it was so much harder with Patrick than with Sean. Taking care of a newborn while dealing with a boy who didn't understand why he wasn't the center of my attention…"
"That's because you didn't have your kids seven years apart," B'Elanna pointed out when Sarah trailed off. "Izzy loves helping taking care of her little brother, and she's old enough to actually be able to do it. And," she said, glancing up at Tom, amused, "parenting is a lot easier when there are two parents than one."
"Good point," Sarah agreed.
Icheb entered the banquet hall with Navi on his arm, he in his cadet dress uniform and she in a dark purple evening gown that was definitely not a cadet uniform. Tom still had no idea what their relationship was; intimate enough for physical contact, which Navi usually avoided, but casual enough that he doubted even they had defined it. For the first time since he had met her, Navi responded to inquiries about it with Vulcan reticence instead of Betazoid bluntness, merely raising an eyebrow and changing the subject. Icheb just flushed and grew flustered. "Icheb. It's good to see you," Admiral Janeway greeted the cadet. "And Cadet Torres. You look lovely tonight."
"Thank you, Admiral," Navi replied with a tilt of her head.
"I told her that it would be more appropriate to be in uniform at an official Starfleet function," Icheb said quickly. Janeway looked amused.
"On the contrary," she replied. "As she's here as your date for the evening, evening dress is entirely appropriate." As expected, Icheb's cheeks brightened at the word 'date.' Navi unsuccessfully hid a smirk behind her hand. "And speaking of dates, Mr. Paris, where is your lovely wife tonight?"
Confused, Tom turned to where B'Elanna had been a minute before, to find the space now vacated. He saw her a beat later, a few meters away, talking to Lt. Susan Nicoletti, both engineers with their PADDs out and smiles on their faces. "I'm not sure if they're exchanging baby pictures or engine schematics," he joked.
"That laugh, that smile… That's definitely engine schematics," Lt. Harry Kim joked in return as he approached.
"Engineers," Tom commented with a smile. Harry chuckled and nodded in reply. "How's fatherhood treating you?"
Harry brightened, his own PADD appearing out of nowhere, pictures of his daughter at the ready. "Six months is a fun age," he said. "She's got a lot of personality. But exhausting, too. We just came off parental leave two months ago and are still adjusting. Sue and I have opposing shifts so one of us is always with Lucy. She's the senior engineer on gamma shift, I'm the ops lead on beta shift, and between work and parenting, I can't remember the last time we had more than five minutes awake and alone together." He smiled despite that. "What about you? How's Nate? Is he sleeping through the night yet?"
"I don't think he's sleeping through the hour yet," Tom replied, only half joking. "I don't know if it's a Klingon thing or what, but B'Elanna says Izzy was the same way. Izz still sleeps less than I do. And has a lot more energy than I do."
"Isn't that always the way with seven-year-olds?" Harry asked. "How are you guys enjoying Mars? Itching to go back into space yet?"
"Pretty much the opposite," Tom replied. "I like having the ground beneath my feet every day, but I think B'Elanna wouldn't mind a ship assignment before Izzy starts secondary school. She thinks it'll be another year before they're done with Voyager, so in the meantime, we're taking it one day at a time. And the only ship in our immediate future is the one that'll be taking us to Qo'noS on Sunday. Because my wife is important enough that the Chancellor of the Klingon Empire demanded to see our new son."
"Well, you wouldn't want to start a diplomatic incident," Harry commented.
"Who, me?" Tom asked innocently. It would be his second trip to Qo'noS; he had been surprised six months before at how much B'Elanna liked the planet and the number of friends she had there, given how little regard she had had for anything Klingon when they met. More than a year after they had reunited, he was still finding those surprises, those things that were natural to her and should have been natural to him. He knew she was still discovering the odd quirks he had picked up over the years as well. Well, at least their family counseling sessions were always entertaining.
They toasted to surviving a year back home, they toasted to their crewmates who couldn't make it to San Francisco that night, and they toasted to the crewmates who hadn't survived the journey. They ate dinner, they danced, they talked some more. Sam and Greskrendtregk came by to ask him to pass along their thanks—again—to Ainsley for keeping Naomi occupied on a holophotography lesson with Izzy, and they again made vague promises about visiting Ktaris. The Doctor cornered him to talk about holoprograms and how to get them published. Neelix had questions about Ethiopian cuisine, and Tom couldn't figure out why he thought he would be the person to ask.
Tom had always been the extrovert of their relationship, the one who could handle those social gatherings, but he couldn't deny the rush of relief he felt when they stepped out of the transport station in Hawaii and made their way back to their temporary home and their children. Part of it had been the strange atmosphere, but most of it was just relief that he could be alone together with his family again. He and B'Elanna had married young, too young to fully understand the vows they had made to each other and what those would mean, and they both had taken the other for granted in those few months they had together before he left on Voyager. His Voyager crewmates would always be a family to him—and B'Elanna and Sarah liked to joke that Joe and Tom made a better married couple than either actual married couple—but it had taken a lot of fight to get the family they had just started when he left back together, and a lot of fight to keep it together. He would never be able to repay B'Elanna for the things she had done and the sacrifices she had made to get him back home, but in a way, those years apart was their second chance to start a life together. They had both grown up—a lot—in those years, each in ways that the other would never fully understand, but both wanted to, and over the last year, they had learned how to navigate those changes in a way that made sense to them. It hadn't always been an easy year, learning how the three, and then the four, of them all fit together, but now, after a year of getting to wake up next to his wife almost every morning, seeing his daughter almost every day, being there for the birth of his son, he knew he could never take it for granted again.
A/N: And that's a wrap, folks. Thanks to everyone who stuck it out for more than a year as I worked my way through what this story would look like, and thanks to everyone who came into the story later and stuck through a lot of chapters to read these words. I have ideas for more stories; I've started on one inspired by Picard that I'm excited to get to a point where I can start posting it. Don't worry; it'll be a lot shorter than this one.