Listening the cries of Tom Paris was too familiar. His screams bounced off the walls in a painful but beautiful crescendo. I had made that music before. His muscles tensed underneath my touch, he lurched, he gripped, he fought as I struggled to pull him to his feet. What a good man. What a sweet boy. He didn't deserve it. He shouldn't have been the one to find her, what was left of her. He shouldn't have heard me ask for the location of his wife. But he heard it in my voice. We just knew something was wrong.

She was deep in the belly of the ship. A crewman in engineering said she was rambling on and on about some "temporal shift". He said that she had been furiously searching the ship's functions and furiously taking notes. When anyone offered their assistance she would dismiss them immediately, saying it was for their own good. How blind was I to not even know about my chief engineer prowling about Voyager like a mad woman? She told me herself she was going to take matters into her own hands. I feel as though I am not myself. I feel as though I'm not really here and in my gut I feel that BE'lanna sensed that in herself as well. I was reflecting what she feared and being the stubborn child she is…..was…she went off to fix it herself.

She did find something. She was caught in some kind of temporal flux, at least something close to it. The structure of my ship morphed, twisting around our existence and her along with it. The Doctor, bless that man, reached in and pulled her out. At our feet she landed. At our feet she twisted and convulsed. I demanded we beam her to sickbay but it would be to dangerous. The Doctor desperately tried to get a hold of the situation, but she destabilized at a rapid rate until she simply evaporated. All that was left was a shoe, a PADD, and a broken tricorder.

He's nearly catatonic now. He's awake. But he's not here with me. For seventeen hours now the command team have taken turns sitting with Tom while the others run the ship. He sits on the bio bed and I behind him, grasping his shoulders.

"She shouldn't have…" he attempts to say

"She was just trying to do her job, Tom." I reply for what is possibly the hundredth time. But I don't mind.

"But she…she can't be…"

"The Doctor tried everything"

"No!" he chocked

"Tom"

He jerks out of my grasp. He turns to me. He slowly slides off the bed to stand and face me completely. His fair complexion blotched from his tears. His blue eyes shining with anguish shifts into a fury I have never seen before.

"You" he hisses "She wanted to find out what was wrong with you! She went searching where she shouldn't because…..you!"

"Tom"

It's the most animation he has shown in sometime but it hurts it is through such hate in his eyes, a white hot beam of hate pointed towards me.

"You were so worried about that little girl you didn't even look at her after….after" he's struggling to breathe.

I realize it's the first time he has ever mentioned the abduction or the Ensign. I realize how much it has effected him too. We all loved BE'lanna. But not like Tom Paris. They were so different but so much one of the same. They were like two sides of a coin.

"I thought she needed time" I plead

"She needed you!" He groans "Every night I hear her call out to you in her dreams! She needed to rest! But she spent so much time worrying about you!"

"Tom I…"

"Did she mean anything to you, Captain!?" he spits my title like chewed tobacco "Was she just your token Klingon? Was she just another tool on your belt? Isn't that it? We're all just tools on your belt!?" he's trembling "She was beautiful and kind and smart and I loved her!"

"I loved her too!" I plead

"You killed her!"

"I did not!"

"She was losing her mind and you just sat there!"

"Tom!" I cry out.

His outburst is predictable. He's kind but there has always been an anger bubbling underneath. The logic in me says that he is a grieving man, looking for something, anything to blame the unimaginable pain on. But my heart fears that what he says is the truth and it breaks me.

"You need to leave" he says darkly

"Plea…"

"Out!" he barks.

I jump.

Despite his fury, I don't want to leave him. But my presence wounds him even more. He needs time to say goodbye without distraction.

Silently, I turn and head towards the exit. The Doctor and I are about to cross paths when he places a hand on my shoulder.

"He doesn't mean it" he assures me softly

"I think he does" I whisper back "Report soon."

He opens his mouth wanting to say something more. But he simply nods with a mumbled "Aye, Captain."

My journey back to my quarters is painful to say the least. The crew walk with blank, pale faces. Its to soon. We have just barely said goodbye to one member and now we have to do it again just days after. We signed up for this when we joined Starfleet but there is a difference between living with the possibility and living with the reality.

I have made it almost to my quarters when something in me signals that my domain is not where I should go. It is then I find myself at Chakotay's door. I ring the bell.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

I override the code.

The doors slide open and I step in quietly. I see him sitting on the floor near his living room table. He's facing away. He could be meditating so I approach with caution. I can see a chair is toppled over, the belongings on his desk are in a violent disarray, something crunches under my foot and I see I have stepped on a shard of glass. Half a bottle of some type of alcohol lies directly under the window, underneath an amber splatter mark dripping against the clear surface. Carefully, I step around shinning little pieces to get to my first officer.

A heavy huff is executed from his large frame. I stand over him now and see that he is trembling ever so slightly.

"Couldn't do it" he slurred "Couldn't…quest."

I see the animal skin of his bundle splayed out in front of him but the tokens had been tossed aside into different directions.

I touch his shoulder and kneel next to him.

"I kept seeing her" he croaked

"I know" I whisper, my throat tight as fresh tears began to blur my vision.

"She mattered."

"She will always matter"

He turns to me. This stoic warrior. He is so much more than what I could ever be. There is so much more under his ever present smile.

He watches, he studies and he understands the nature of living. His strength to withstand is immeasurable. He forgives but never forgets, not to hold a grudge but to hold onto the lesson to grow. He's always growing into what he needs to be. He is willing to become whatever is asked of him. He is good. He has been through the fire but comes out peaceful. He is never bitter because bitter is easy, bitter would allow him to lose the responsibility of empathy. He knows that, so he won't allow that.

His lips press against mine. My eyes immediately close and I swear I can almost smell the grass from a distant planet only built for two. He tastes almost the same. But its different. He tastes of desperation and of longing. His force pushes me down, down onto flat carpeting and I couldn't care less if the shards of glass pierce my skin. Hands grasp at me. Not with loving exploration but with the desperate need to know I'm still here. I could let him go further. I need to know he's here too. His kiss like a salve from the sting of Tom's words. Together, we could pretend the gaping hole in our chest isn't there. Together, we could fall into our primal needs and forget the world crumbling around us.

"No" I moan weakly

"Please" he breathes

My hands press against his chest and I scold myself when my fingers curl into his shirt as his lips find a pulse point on my neck.

"You will regret this"

"I could never regret you"

I force myself not to fall into temptation. I cup his chin and force him to look into my eyes.

"But you will regret this"

His face contorts.

"Damn you!" he cries as his fist pounds next to my head "God damn you Kathryn!"

I flinch but I do not fear him. His tears fall onto me like rain and it causes me to lose all of my resolve. My hand covers my eyes and I begin to sob. His face buries into the crook of my neck and together we weep for BE'anna, we weep for Tom, we weep for Voyager, we weep for ourselves and we weep for what could have been. We weep without abandon until we lose consciousness but a moment before I slip into the blackness, I swear I could see half of Chakotay's door flicker in and out of existence.

Fine. Condemn the kid. But you and I both know something is wrong here.

My eyes open slowly, adjusting to the dim light of the quiet quarters. I feel disoriented when I realize I don't recognize the ceiling. I wonder if I should start to worry when I feel warm breath puff against the nape of my neck and it all comes back to me.

The trial. The search. The discovery. The fight to keep her alive. Failing her. Oh god BE'lanna. Stubborn, crazy, wonderful, beautiful BE'lanna. It wasn't ever supposed to be like this.

I slide Chakotay's heavy arm off of my torso and sit up slowly. My muscles scream in protest. Apparently, sleeping like I did on the library floor during finals week at the Acadamy is no longer an option for my body. I look over to Chakotay's form. He shouldn't be sleeping on the floor either but the thought of bringing him back to the reality of grieving his dearest friend feels cruel to say the least.

I stand on shaky legs and slowly make my way to Chakotay's private consul. I don't want to ask the time from the computer and have her automated voice awake the sleeping bear. Bleary eyed, I squint to see the numbers displayed on a sleek black screen.

02:30

We have a good while before the Alpha shift. Without a thought, I slip off my jacket and make my way to the largest shards of glass nearest the window. Slowly, I pick up the tiny pieces, I place the toppled chair back into its rightful place and continue to do so throughout his quarters. That's the beauty of having an atomic bomb dropped on your life, all there is left to do is rebuild and at least there you are doing something.

It's not long before Chakotay awakes. At first he struggles to his feet and darts to the bathroom to release the contents of his stomach. He shuffles back in and without a word he helps me finish cleaning up. When all is said and done I approach him with a sad smile.

"I'm sure the doctor has a hypospray for your headache. I replicated you some coffee." I say to him, my voice rough from sleep and tears.

"Always a couple steps ahead of me." He says with a chuckle

"Clean yourself up, Commander. We have a crew to answer to." I reply with a pat on his shoulder.

With that I exit to visit my quarters for a quick change of clothes as I prepare to investigate the final hours of BE'lanna Torres.

I enter my quarters and stand in the quiet of my domain. It's odd to listen to my breath, to be reminded I still exist and I'm still here. A beep notifies me of a message on my personal consul. With a sigh I approach the device and my muscles detest my actions as I take a seat. I press play.

The black screen flickers away and two deep brown eyes stare back at me.

"Captain. In the event anything happens to me, Im sending you this message. Ugh…I feel like Im crazy" BE'lanna groans before continuing "I know it sounds crazy but I feel like…like something isn't right…it isn't real"

I know I should feel alarmed and paying careful attention to what she is saying. But my chest feels warmth as I look upon the face of my dearly departed friend.

"I'm sending you my notes and I want you, just you, to look at them." her eyes darken "No one else will know what I mean but you will. You were in that cell with me. You will know what I mean." she takes in a shakey breath "Good luck, Kathryn."

The screen turns to black. My pale, tear stained reflection stares back.

"She called me Kathryn" I hear myself say.