B'Elanna finally roused herself from the sofa when she could no longer ignore the hunger pangs twisting her stomachs into knots. Neelix had tired of waiting for her outside of her quarters, but she was able to locate the Mess Hall with no problem. Once she'd arrived, she let Neelix know where she was, and settled herself at a table to continue reading Tom's logs, choosing one from 2375.
"Personal log, stardate 52439.7. For kilometers, there's nothing to see but dirt. It gets into everything. I must have dumped out at least half a kilo out of each boot after this last hunting expedition. For the record, Tom Paris zero, spiders zero, Noss three. Yum. I never thought I'd have a hankering for Neelix's cooking. If I'm being honest though, leola root isn't the only thing I miss. I've been counting days and each day feels longer and more desperate than the one before. I've been playing a game, trying to remember different things about B'Elanna. Everything from the way she parts her hair right down the center to how she reads in bed before we go to sleep. Every day, I add a new thing to the list. I'm afraid, if we're here much longer, my memory of those things that are uniquely B'Elanna will fade; I'll only remember how I feel when I'm around her. So, I've been replaying our last moments together in my mind - the way she smiled at me when I left her quarters, the faintest whiff of her perfume on my uniform and the imprint of her lips on mine. Damn. I- I didn't want to need her. Tuvok is unsympathetic. Hell, he doesn't even notice Noss and how she hangs on every word of his. It surprises me Noss could be so attracted to him, but it's even crazier that Tuvok can close himself off so completely from her. In his case, the heart knows what it doesn't want. I wish I could say the same."
Reading the logs had a very different feeling than listening to Tom's voice. B'Elanna missed the inflections of the words, the way he would sometime scoff under his breath, the lightness in his tone as he retold a funny store. Every now and then, she'd catch a hint of tension, but for the most part, the Tom Paris of the logs was as even-keeled as they came. After completing the logs detailing his time on the planet in the gravity well, B'Elanna skipped ahead about eighteen months.
"Personal log, stardate 53980.8. I'm not going to lie: I hurt. An EM surge is no joke. Remind me to avoid nebulas in the future; the gaseous beauties are not worth the pain. The burns cover about 50 percent of my body and the dermal regenerator is working hard to put me back together. The Doctor prescribed analgesics and a sleep aid. When I woke this morning, I saw B'Elanna curled asleep on the sofa. When had she come in? 'Hey', I said, and her eyes immediately opened. 'How do you feel?' she asked. 'You look like hell, Tom.' I tried to smile, but my skin was too new, too raw, and I said, 'Feels like I've been there too.' She dropped down to sit on the floor by the bed. 'You should have sent me a postcard,' she said with just that tiny bit of edge and humor that some might find off-putting, but I'll never tire of. She eyed me, didn't touch me, and asked if she could get me something. I asked for painkiller and she obliged. 'How long have you been here?' I asked as she pressed the cool head of the hypospray against my neck. She shrugged. 'Since I got off shift.' Which, according to the chronometer, was about eight hours ago. I struggled to my feet and she immediately reached out to steady me. 'Hey, flyboy,' she said, 'take it easy.' She hunched slightly so I could swing my arm on her shoulders and together, like a pair of drunk sailors, we stumbled into the bathroom. Very gently, she helped me undress, peeling away the layers of clothing with just the faintest and most delicate of touches. I leaned forward on the sink, resting my weight forward on my palms, as she ran the dermal regenerator across my back. I caught sight of her face in my mirror: her lips pressed together into a tight thin line, her jaw tensed, and her eyes focused intently on her task. Her movements were deliberate, careful, and thorough; I don't think an inch of my skin escaped from her intense scrutiny. I'd seen that look before, down in the engine room, and had always backed away. I realized then she was ministering to me with the same care and passion as she did for Voyager's engines. Lucky me."
B'Elanna paused in her reading when she heard Neelix approaching her, carrying a tray.
"Smells good," B'Elanna told him as he placed the plate in front of her. She stared at the dish in front of her with curiosity.
"Pancakes with maple syrup are your favorite breakfast," Neelix said, indicating the fluffy cakes, perfectly browned on the top. Maple syrup surrounding a pat of butter dripped down the sides of the stack. B'Elanna indicated the seat next to her and Neelix sat down. "You know, sometimes food is like 'time travel.' You inhale an aroma, take a bite of something and suddenly - BAM! - you're back at the moment you first tasted it," Neelix said with his usual cheer.
B'Elanna carefully cut a piece of pancake, spearing it with her fork. She chewed slowly, savoring the taste. She nodded.
"They're good," she said wryly. "But I'm not experiencing time travel."
Neelix sighed and then pointed at the PADD.
"What are you reading?"
"Personal logs."
"Do you remember recording any of them?"
B'Elanna shook her head. "They're not mine. They're Tom's."
"Those are supposed to be private."
B'Elanna shrugged her shoulders, feeling that tinge of guilt flare up again. She'd thought she would only read a few of the logs, but she'd gotten so caught up in Tom's thoughts, that she'd kept going. Every now and then, some of the anecdotes he related sparked a memory. But more importantly, she was getting to know Tom Paris intimately, and it still unnerved her to know they were married, but at least reading what he wrote made it possible to believe that reality.
"Well, he is my husband," she said uncertainly.
Neelix smiled. "What do they say?"
B'Elanna grinned back at him. "They're private," she said cheekily. She noticed Neelix was looking anxiously at her and she felt the sudden need to share a little of what she had read with him. "But the way he describes me..." Her voice drifted off as a lump formed in her throat.
"He loves you."
B'Elanna glanced back down at the PADD, trying not to react too strongly to Neelix's words. Back on Quarra, she hadn't even considered the possibility of being in love, had mildly contemplated a flirtation with Tom, but for the most part, she carried the vague impression of a man who had left her. A man who had not loved her. She had reconciled herself to that idea for the most part, but here Neelix was sitting next to her, telling her that those minor truths, the ones she had created, were, in fact, lies.
"I guess so," she said hoarsely. Thinking back to the log she'd just finished reading, she understood something else: And I love him too. She sucked in her breath, tightened her grip on her fork but her hand still shook.
"How do you feel?" Neelix asked with concern.
"It's still a little foggy," B'Elanna answered, doing her best to keep her voice steady.
"The 'fog' should lift as soon as the Doctor finishes your treatments."
"Yeah," B'Elanna said. She looked down at the words on the PADD in front of her. Tom, stranded on a planet, making a list of all the little things she did. It would be an impossible situation, she knew, to remain on Voyager, her memory restored, but without Tom. "But what about the guy who recorded these logs?"
Neelix reached across the table, patted her hand gently. "We won't leave without him and the rest of the crew, and the Doctor will do everything he can to restore their memories to what they were prior to your abduction by the Quarrans," Neelix responded confidently. "In fact, I was just in Sickbay, and the Doctor has some good ideas on ways he can enhance the protocols." His eyes twinkled with a bit of mischief. "You can ask him, if you'd like."
"Maybe after I finish reading," B'Elanna said, tapping the PADD. There were certain log entries she wanted to re-read and absorb into every cell of her body.
"You should finish eating," Neelix said, indicating the plate of pancakes. "Keep your energy up."
She glared at him, mildly offended at the insinuation that she might be tired, but then softened when she saw the kindness in his expression.
"You've been very patient with me," she said softly. Neelix patted her hand gently.
"We're glad to have you back, B'Elanna. The ship isn't the same without its crew."
B'Elanna contemplated the empty mess hall. "What's the crew complement?"
"One hundred and forty," Neelix said. He settled back comfortably in his chair, intertwining his fingers over his belly. B'Elanna narrowed her eyes in his direction; it was clear he wasn't going anywhere until she finished her meal.
With a sigh, B'Elanna pushed the PADD aside and continued eating, spearing each piece of pancake at the tip of her fork with precision and if she was being honest, a bit of violence. After she'd consumed nearly half the food, she put her fork down. "Neelix, you said we had to abandon ship because of a subspace mine."
"That's right."
B'Elanna contemplated. "Sensors never picked up the mine. I don't know how we possibly missed it and I remember thinking as we escaped in the pods that I needed to double-check that system when the radiation finally cleared up. I do remember checking Engineering, making sure everyone was out, and then getting to the pods. Tom was already there, and he decided to join me in my pod." B'Elanna pressed the tips of her fingers to her forehead. She remembered the crew's panic as they headed towards the escape pods, and the image of Janeway calmly giving instructions to the senior staff just before they boarded was extraordinarily clear. "Tom, Janeway and Seven found an M-class planet and Tom plotted the course." She grimaced. "But I don't—I don't think we ever reached that planet."
"No. You were captured shortly after you evacuated Voyager," Neelix said. "Do you recall anything else?"
Tom had bolted the hatch as B'Elanna had squeezed onto the uncomfortable bench, twisting to find a comfortable way to position herself in the cramped setting. Carey, Ayala, and Tom sat opposite her and the others, their long legs spanning the distance between the two bulkheads. The pod lurched, catapulted through space, and B'Elanna distinctly remembered vomiting. And Celes… Celes had been hurt.
"Many of the crew had radiation burns. Some of them were quite severe. Celes was in my pod, and she was in a lot of pain." B'Elanna frowned. "When the Quarrans rescued us, they immediately took us to the hospital." She flinched as fragments of memory assailed her in quick succession. Standing close to Tom, her hand on her belly. Tom talking to the doctors. Freddie Bristow comforting Celes, her face contorted in agony. The doctors recommending an inoculation to maintain their health while they waited for Voyager to return for them. Tom asking questions about the inoculation, questioning what the Quarran doctors were concerning about. The doctors saying they'd answer his queries in the office. Tom squeezing B'Elanna's hand, telling her he'd be back shortly.
Neelix watched her carefully. "What is it?"
"They asked Tom to come to the back office with them so they could talk in private. One of the doctors, he seemed concerned about alarming the crew and thought it would be better to brief Tom on the situation away from everyone else, medical professional to medical professional," B'Elanna said. Her hands felt cold. "And then Celes started screaming and I called for help." Her eyes narrowed as she considered what was her last coherent memory. "The doctors said they could help Tal, but they needed to give her an inoculation first. I wanted them to wait for Tom, but they said they had to treat her immediately or infection would set in and she could lose her arm. As the commanding officer, I agreed to the treatment and they took Celes into the operating room." B'Elanna brushed her hand against her eyes. "The doctors then told me they wanted to check on the baby. That's the last time I remember seeing anyone from Voyager."
"You mention Tom, Celes. Who else did you see?
B'Elanna closed her eyes, picturing the large sterile waiting room with its sea-green walls, black and chrome chairs lining the periphery. Slowly she ticked off the names on her fingers as she was able to envision each crew member from her pod. "Ayala, Bristow, Vorik, Nicoletti—" she furrowed her brow in concentration "—Carey." She looked up at Neelix. "That's all I can remember right now."
"Not the Captain? Tuvok?"
B'Elanna shook her head. "No. They weren't there." Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she searched her memory. "I remember one of the doctors saying giving the size of the rescue effort, they were spreading the patients out throughout the hospital and bringing in additional personnel." She thought back to Joelly and Marchin mentioning there were four hospitals in the city. "They may have taken the others to a different facility." She scrunched her shoulders apologetically. "I'm sorry I can't be more help."
"You're doing great. It will all come back to you soon."
B'Elanna took a deep breath. "I know. I just want it all back now." She tapped the PADD in front of her. "I know I need to be patient but—" she shrugged apologetically "— what I do remember is making me realize just how much the Quarrans took from me." She was in the process of lifting her fork to her lips when the Doctor hailed her. With a sigh, B'Elanna put the fork down. "What is it, Doctor?"
"You're late. You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago to resume your treatments."
"Sorry. I got so caught up in what I was doing, I forgot. I'm on my way. Torres out." B'Elanna regretfully turned off the PADD; she would finish reading later.
"You seem to have made great strides adjusting to your life," the Doctor said as he examined B'Elanna. His boots made no sound on the grey carpet as he shifted his position to pick up one instrument, and then another. "That's a good sign. I take it you're getting used to your surroundings."
B'Elanna looked at his tricorder with interest. Her basic first aid course at the Academy had taught her to use a tricorder for simple diagnostic purposes, so the varied peaks and valleys of the yellow and blue lines meant little to her, but the Doctor seemed thrilled with what he was seeing.
"How does that say I'm doing?" she asked.
"You are doing exceptionally well, and your neural patterns are reconstructing themselves into the proper configuration, as indicated by your previous scan. I must say, my treatment protocol seems to be a great success with some tweaks, I believe I can improve and speed up the process for the rest of the crew." The Doctor bit his lip thoughtfully. "It will be challenging to resurrect the memories of nearly 140 people, but with the correct adjustments to my innovative protocol—"
"What about the baby?" B'Elanna interrupted.
"She's doing fine also."
B'Elanna breathed a sigh of relief.
"Were you concerned about something in particular?" the Doctor asked.
"What if whatever the Quarrans did to me, what if it also affected the baby?"
"The full diagnostic I ran on you when you first returned to Voyager shows that the baby is fine. Don't worry."
"Easier said than done," B'Elanna said sharply as she slid off the biobed. She had the distinct feeling that until she held her baby in her arms, she would never stop agonizing. Tom's voice interjected in her thoughts: but then a whole new set of worries begin. B'Elanna cleared her throat, rested her hands on her rounded bump, tried to push her anxiety aside. "But to answer your question, I'm remembering more and more. Snatches of conversations or sometimes, entire scenes."
"Your reported progress matches my scans," the Doctor said, a hint of glee slipping into his voice. "Hold still." He pressed a hypospray against B'Elanna's neck. "I have to say, Lieutenant, your situation has given me great difficulty."
"I'm sure you can write it up as an academic paper when we return to the Alpha Quadrant," B'Elanna answered, pressing her hand against the spot where the Doctor had administered the medication. She watched as the Doctor pulled up three scans – one that he said was from her last check-up prior to being taken to Quarra, the one taken immediately after her return and now this most recent one. He pursed his lips together, tipping his head this way and that, before finally nodding in satisfaction.
"Well, congratulations," he said. "The regenerative took effect more quickly than I thought. It looks like your neural patterns are almost back to normal."
"That's the best news I've heard all day," B'Elanna said and realized she appreciated those words in a way she hadn't thought possible. Impulsively, she leaned over to hug the Doctor. He beamed back at her. "I- I know I didn't make it easy-" she began.
"You've never been an easy patient, Lieutenant."
"I know, I know." B'Elanna held up a hand. "I appreciate you keeping after me. You and Neelix both."
"You're welcome. Again."
"Um, now that I'm back to normal, Harry needed some help in Engineering-"B'Elanna paused as she slid off the biobed.
The Doctor nodded. "As long as you feel up to it."
B'Elanna looked the Doctor squarely in the eye. "We've got to rescue the others. You need my help."
The Doctor's eyes seemed unusually bright under Sickbay's lights. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "Welcome back, Lieutenant."