Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager is property of Paramount Pictures and all respective cast, crew, and employees. I am not making a profit off this. This is simply for fanfiction enjoyment.
Summary: An away mission goes terribly wrong for Harry Kim and Tom Paris. One is badly injured and the other's past comes back to haunt him. One will be forever changed and the other may not survive.
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: Takes place after the episode Nothing Human and before Thirty Days.
Poisoning
"I can replicate parts for an isolinear wheelchair," the Doctor said after a long moment of silence, "you can use it to-"
"No," Harry said looking off in the distance. He could already imagine the stares of sympathy he would receive. Not to mention the difficulties of maneuvering around Voyager. Since the cure for paralysis was discovered almost a hundred years ago, wheelchair-friendly accommodations had all but disappeared. His station alone would require several modifications for him to work on it from a sitting position, that is, if it could even be done.
"No," he repeated more adamantly, "I don't need it."
"But Mr. Kim…"
Ensign Harry Kim was already sliding off the biobed. The Doctor looked on, sadly, knowing exactly what was going to happen. As soon a Harry's feet touched the floor, he collapsed, his legs unable to carry his weight.
"I'm fine," he said, trying to wave off Tom's help, but his friend helped him back on the biobed anyway. He looked down sheepishly. He didn't like this kind of attention. He didn't like it at all.
"Wait," Tom said, deep in thought, "there may be an alternative. Two years ago, a physical therapist developed iso-electronic leg supports. They're for patients with severe leg damage. It helps them recover their strength. The supports wrap around the leg and use isolinear chips to deliver tiny electric pulses to the muscles. It won't hurt you, but it might help get your strength back."
"Let's do it!" Harry replied, his eyes lighting up.
The Doctor shot a sideways glance at the lieutenant. Tom Paris knew perfectly well that those leg supports were for patients with a chance of recovery. The damage to Harry's legs was too extensive. Yes, he'd be able to use them and get around, but it would require a lot more energy to take each step than to use an isolinear wheelchair. There was no hope of recovery for Harry Kim; the Doctor knew that, and so did Tom.
Tom glared back at the Doctor as if daring him to say something, but the Doctor stayed silent. He would deal with his student later.
"Long-range sensors are detecting over fifty Apex," Tuvok reported, tapping at his console, "it seems they are building another replicator."
Captain Kathryn Janeway smiled. Finally, the hostilities they detected on the planet had ceased. A few minutes earlier, the Apex had sent one last transmission:
We hope the injured has recovered. A young one had helped us see what we were doing to you. We accept your offer.
The captain sent a response transmission thanking the Apex for the antigen. Though no one on Voyager knew just how much change "the young one" had evoked.
"Set a course out of here," she said after a pause, "resume course for the Alpha Quadrant… Let's go home."
Voyager's flanking warp coils angled up and glowed sapphire before it sped away, streaking towards it course.
The captain finally sat back in her seat, able to relax, at least somewhat. The Doctor had reported to her the good news about Harry Kim… and the bad. She looked to her left and saw her first officer looking forward at the main viewscreen.
"May I see you in my Ready Room?" she asked.
"Of course."
Tom fastened the other leg support around Harry's left leg. His friend now had two long electronic braces on the sides of each leg. A circular brace supported his knees on both sides.
Tom pointed to a small control interface on Harry's right thigh.
"The braces will automatically detect the pulses you need to walk, but if you ever want to adjust them, the manual override is here."
"Thanks," Harry whispered.
He took a deep breath and slid off the biobed, keeping his hands on the biobed. Even when he stood, he kept his weight on his hands. Slowly, he took each hand off the biobed… and collapsed again to the floor.
Tom rushed to Harry's side and looked at the braces. An indicator showed the braces were using the highest setting possible.
"N-Not a problem," Tom said, even as he searched in his mind for what to do.
He strode to the medical replicator and whispered a command. When he turned around, he hand crutches in his hands. The supports had cuffs on the top that would automatically fit snugly to the patient's arms while he held the handgrips below.
"You'll have to use these," Tom explained.
Harry nodded, focusing on one thing at a time. Hopefully, he would only need to use the crutches for a few days. Hopefully… if not…
Harry pushed the negative thought out of his mind, not wanting to even start thinking about 'what ifs.'
Several tries later, Harry was able to use the crutches as support to drag his feet along. His pace was painstakingly slow, but Harry didn't seem deterred, even when the sweat started to bead down his forehead. As Harry exited Sickbay, Tom opened his mouth to say something, but the Doctor spoke up before the words could come out.
"I want you to take the next three days off," the Doctor instructed.
"Three days?" Harry protested, "But I'm fine."
"You've just recovered from a two week coma and your legs have been badly injured. Give yourself a chance to rest… get used to the crutches."
"…Alright," Harry said after a long pause, "it'll give me a chance to try and get some strength back anyway."
Tom smiled and moved to follow Harry, but the Doctor grabbed his arm. He waited until the doors to Sickbay closed behind the injured ensign before speaking.
"Mr. Paris, what was that?"
"What do you mean?" Tom asked, avoiding the Doctor's eyes.
"You know exactly what I mean," the Doctor replied, "you know as well as I do, that Mr. Kim won't recover from his injuries. The damage to his muscles was too extensive. He won't be able to gain his strength back."
"How do you know that?"
"He legs have lost eighty one percent of their strength," the Doctor said, meeting Tom in the eyes; he hated to do this, but he had to face the truth, "there is a 0.0001 percent chance he will regain strength, let alone enough for the ability to walk."
"Well if you're so sure of that," Tom retorted, yanking his arm away from the Doctor, "Why didn't you stop me? Why didn't you tell Harry the truth before he went out the door?"
The Doctor hesitated, but Tom wouldn't let the silence linger.
"I know why," Tom replied, making sure to meet the Doctor in the eyes, "because deep down inside, you really think that there is a chance for Harry to recover. Somewhere in those holographic pixels of yours, you wouldn't just destroy the only hope Harry has right now!"
Tom let out a heavy sigh. An awkward silence descended in Sickbay as the lieutenant and doctor stood, each troubled by his own thoughts. Tom took a shuddering breath before heading for Sickbay's doors.
"Sooner or later, he has to face the truth," the Doctor said, his voice barely above a whisper. But Tom heard him. He stopped at the doors and gripped the frame as he looked down at the floor. Then, he walked on, without responding to the Doctor.
"We have to talk," the captain said as she sat in her Ready Room chair. Chakotay settled in the chair in front of her desk.
"You were right stop me," Janeway said before her first officer could speak, "if I had launched that warning buoy, an entire species would have starved."
"You were trying to protect others from getting killed," Chakotay replied, "you were put in a difficult position."
"Yes, but…" Janeway started, but she paused gathering her thoughts, "I'd like to tell you that my decision was made based on a rational conclusion, but the truth is, I was acting out of anger. When I thought of what they did to Ensign Kim, the Apex stopped being sentient beings and became monsters… at least in my mind."
"As Maquis," Chakotay said after some thought, "I lived off anger; all Maquis did. That may not have been our original intent, but soon that was all we knew. We started off as a renegade group that only fired when necessary, but all that dissolved when we started to suffer casualties. Soon, we didn't hesitate to fire on Starfleet officers, or anyone who wasn't Maquis.
"It wasn't until I joined Voyager when I finally started to see the consequences of my anger, and what I had done. Until then, all I wanted to do was avenge my friends' deaths. But then, I finally started to realize that by living off anger and firing without hesitation, I was no better than the enemies the Maquis fought so hard to avoid."
An uneasy silence settled between the two.
"You were going to relieve me of duty, weren't you?" Janeway asked.
Chakotay nodded.
Janeway looked up from her desk, "You would have been absolutely right to do so."
"I'm just glad I didn't have to."
"Only because the Apex's transmission interrupted us..."
Chakotay put a gentle hand on Kathryn's arm.
"You weren't just acting out of anger, you were trying to protect the innocent from harm," he said.
"And so were you," Kathryn returned the gesture by putting her hand on his arm.
boop
"Captain, this is the Doctor,"
"Yes, Doctor?" the captain replied, sitting back in her chair while letting out a slow breath.
The Doctor resumed to explain Ensign Kim's condition, warning her about the leg braces so she wouldn't be shocked by his appearance. The captain didn't ask about Harry's chances of walking, figuring there was at least some chance, given that he was fitted with braces. The Doctor didn't volunteer any information.
As the turbolift made its way to the Bridge, Harry Kim leaned on a sidewall, taking some of the weight off his hands, which were holding his crutches. Despite the Doctor's orders to take it easy, for the past three days, Harry worked to move his legs as much as possible. But there was no progress.
"It's only been a few days," Harry said to himself, "just give it some more time."
The turbolift doors opened quickly, almost too quickly. All eyes on the Bridge turned to him almost immediately. The captain stood up from her chair, as did the first officer.
"Welcome back Ensign Kim," captain Kathryn Janeway smiled.
"Thank you, captain," Harry said as he made his way to his station, "It's good to be back."
A tall chair was placed there. It took some maneuvering to get settled in the seat so he could reach his station. When Harry looked up, he noticed the entire Bridge crew was watching him, including his friend, who was stationed at the helm. One look from Janeway was all that was needed for the Bridge crew to resume their duties. But in the few seconds Harry realized that he was the center of attention, he noticed that his friend had a different look. Not one of pity; his eyes were cast downward and he wore a frown. Before Harry could try and decipher what his friend was thinking, Tom turned back towards the viewscreen.
Harry looked around the Bridge as the officers busied themselves with their duties. He hated this; those looks of pity and sadness. The sooner he'd be able to walk, the better.
Harry lifted himself onto the parallel bars, having set his crutches aside and removed leg braces.
The ensign was in Holodeck 2, where he ran an exercise program. It had been almost a month since he was injured and despite spending almost every off-duty hour there, he had made no discernable progress; with or without the leg braces. He was starting to think he was exercising his arms more than anything else.
"No…" Harry said to himself, "I can't let myself think like this. This is just temporary. I'll be back on my feet in no time."
However, as he urged his feet to move, putting his entire weight on his hands, the obvious was staring him in the face. It took all his strength to move his right leg even a few inches, let alone an entire step. His left leg fared no better.
Several minutes later, beads of sweat started to pour down Harry's forehead. His hands quivered and hurt with each move. He had spent a double entire shift in Engineering moving from station to station with his crutches trying to fix malfunctioning systems. Finally, several hours later, Engineering was back in working order. He was tried, but he pushed on.
Tom Paris hesitated outside Holodeck 2, having looked ad the control panel. The computer informed him his friend was running the same program he had been running for the past month.
His friend had to know by now. But still, he showed confidence that he would one day walk again. Every time Tom tried to muster the courage to tell Harry the truth, he backed down. There was also something else he wanted to tell him; something that had been haunting him since his friend had been revived, but that required even more courage to say.
He took a deep breath before stepping through the Holodeck doors. He found Harry working hard at the parallel bars. When he reached the end, he would put all his weight on one hand and quickly put his other hand on the same bar to turn himself around. Every so often, he would try and stand, but the second he took his hands off the bars, he would collapse, and be forced to return using the bars as braces.
"Hey Hare," Tom said, stepping towards his friend.
"Hey."
"There's um…." Tom said slowly, "something I need to tell you."
Harry moved so that he was facing Tom.
Tom looked down, fiddling his fingers nervously.
"Yeah…"
boop
"Seven of Nine to Ensign Kim."
Tom grit his teeth and looked up at the ceiling in frustration. Combadges, or rather those who used them, seemed to have impeccable timing.
"Kim, here."
"I require your assistance in Astrometrics. The power surge Voyager experienced has damaged several consoles and isolinear relays."
"Can't this wait?" Harry asked, "I just pulled a double shift."
"The power surge is progressing and needs to be stopped immediately. Lieutenant Torres is busy in Engineering."
"I'll be right there."
Harry turned back to Tom.
"Sorry, what you were saying?"
"Nothing," Tom sighed.
"Are you sure?" Harry asked, eyeing his friend suspiciously.
"Yeah."
When the Holodeck doors closed behind Harry, Tom finally spoke.
"… You won't be able to walk again, Harry. And I'm sorry… if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be in this situation. Because of me, you're crippled for life."
Tom closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. He stood there alone in the empty Holodeck for what seemed like an eternity.
When Harry arrived at Astrometrics, he went right to work. Seven of Nine looked curiously at the engineer.
"You are perspiring," she noticed.
Harry sat in a seat, working on a side panel. He didn't take his eyes off it as he responded.
"Yeah, I was just doing some physical therapy in the Holodeck."
Seven paused, her Borg implants processing the new data. She looked at Harry, whose back was turned towards her.
"Since your injury, it has taken you two point five times longer to transverse the corridors."
Harry stopped working, but still didn't face Seven.
"But I haven't ever been late for a shift, right?"
"No," Seven replied, "but you would travel faster if you used an isolinear wheelchair. Using your crutches is an inefficient use of your time."
Finally, Harry faced Seven, his eyebrows creased.
"Then I'll be inefficient! What's it matter to you anyway?"
"Since your injury, you have spent an inordinate amount of time on the Holodeck in physical therapy both before and after your shifts. You arrive at your shifts already low on energy, decreasing your efficiency by thirty-four percent, but I have yet to hear of any progress. It has been twenty-five days since you have been able to walk; it is time you accept your condition and learn to live with it."
Harry whirled around in his chair and grabbed his crutches. He faced Seven, making sure to meet her in the eyes.
"First of all," he said, gritting his teeth, "you're not even a Starfleet officer, so you have no right to tell me how my 'efficiency percent' is supposed to be. Second of all, I'm going to walk again, and not you, or anyone else on this ship can tell me otherwise.
"Now, do you want my help or not?!"
Seven looked carefully at Harry's angry stare. Clearly, she still had a lot to learn about human emotions.
"There is no other engineer more qualified to repair the malfunctions."
Harry gave a slight nod before resuming his work. The two worked with little conversation for the next hour, only speaking when reporting the status of the consoles. Finally, when they were done, Harry moved back to his crutches, his hands quivering worse than ever.
He got as far as down the first corridor, when his arms finally lost their strength. His pace had been slowing, but he thought he could handle it. He collapsed on the floor, his legs crumpling beneath him. Immediately, he got back up, struggling to get back into his crutches. He didn't want anyone to see him or offer any more help.
By the time the ensign reached his quarters, he was drenched in sweat and completely exhausted. It took the last of his energy just to get himself into the sonic shower and into bed.
As Harry lay in bed, finally able to rest his weary arms, he stared up in the darkness. He grit his teeth as the last month flashed through his mind. At the end of each day, his arms were exhausted, but his legs didn't feel anything. They didn't feel anything because they hadn't been working. Neither of his legs had taken a full step nor have they carried his weight since he was injured. If they couldn't carry his weight by now, what made him think he could walk?
Harry found it difficult to sleep with these thoughts torturing his mind. Maybe Seven was right. She had a tendency to say the blunt truth when no one else dared. Maybe he should just give up; accept his condition. But even as his mind said this, a part of him still refused to give in. So long as his legs could move a millimeter, he still had a chance… at least, that's what he hoped.
In the darkness, Harry felt a single tear roll down his cheek; shed from the frustration, anger, and humiliation he had endured the past several weeks. When he was on the Bridge, it was fairly easy to put up a brave, confident face. He had his duties to distract him. But in his quarters, when he was alone, isolated from everyone else, there was nothing to distract him from the truth.
Perhaps it was time for him to accept it…
To be continued
As always, thank you so very much to all reviewers. I appreciate the compliments as well as the constructive crticism. It really helps me improve my writing. Thanks again!
