Series: Voyager
Season: 6
Pairing: P, J, O-P, C, P/T
Parts: 9/9
Rating: PG

SYNOPSIS: Set after Pathfinder, Tom and his father get reacquainted.

Prior story in the Among The Bystanders series:
1) Standing Over The Sea, 2) Looking Down, 3) Searching For What Is Lost, 4) Finding Only Pieces, 5) Standing Up For Oneself, 6) Knowing The Future, 7) Going To Extremes, 8) What
Came Between Them.

The Idiot
by Isabelle S.

"Forgiveness?" Tom echoed outraged. "You're dreaming Dad, because I'm never going to forgive you for what you did. You ruined my life! Okay, what I did with it afterward wasn't that great. But, you tried to have me committed to mental hospital!"

The accusation fell on Kathryn, Chakotay, and the Doctor like a bomb. If it shocked Owen Paris, the Admiral was quick to recover.

"Yes, I did admit you in psychiatry for an evaluation," he acknowledged holding his son's gaze. "But I did not try to have you committed to an institution. Never did any of us ever
thought that you were crazy, Thomas. But you needed help dealing and accepting the Caldik Prime's accident the way it happened."

"You don't know how it happened," Tom remarked angrily.

"And I know for a fact that you're still not sure either," his father pointed out. "Yes, you may have done a mistake. But, Son, putting yourself into the place of your friends and reliving over and over what they might have been through during their final moments was not going to shade more light on what really happen."

Kathryn felt her blood run cold at the mere thought of her sensitive friend putting himself through so much pain.

"You don't know that," Tom defended.

"Do you really think that you would have found more answers?" Owen questioned.

Tom remained silent.

It was obvious that the intensity of the present argument was far beyond the level of energy Tom had. Kathryn felt that he was starting to falter under her support. The sudden rush of energy that had ran through him at the sight of his father was now exhausted. Tom was totally defenceless to the pain his old woods were creating as they were reopened. She helped him leaned back on the edge of the biobed.

Owen took advantage of this moment of weakness to get even closer to his son. Cornered by Kathryn and the bed, Tom had no other choice than to face the older man. Kathryn stepped back as Owen took his son by the shoulders.

"I'm not here to revive old quarrels, Thomas," his father said softly. "Unfortunately, we've grown so distant physically and emotionally in the last decade that my being here was sure to do just that. I am sorry, Son."

Tom slowly gazed up as his father talked. He had that captive look in his blue eyes, the one that could reach your very soul and send shivers up your spine. No one was immune to it, not
even the dreaded Admiral Owen Paris.

The older man faced his son in silence for moment, fighting to keep is countenance.

"How did you get here?" Tom eventually asked as thought he was finally realizing and accepting his father's presence.

"Pathfinder," Owen replied. "It's a complicate story."

"I'll wait for the movie to come out," Tom remarked. He sighed as he shook his head. Why?"

"I had to see you," his father told him.

"I guess that it's another good stupid way to go," Tom commented, not too impressed.

"Now, look who's talking? I suppose giving yourself a stroke was smarter?" his father challenged.

"I had a good reason," Tom defended.

"And I didn't?" Owen snorted. "Kid, wait until you get children of your own."

"I don't see that happening anytime soon," Tom replied snorting back. He met his father's gaze once again with a sudden insight. "You were scared for me," he stated a bit surprised.

"Well of course I was scared for you, Thomas. You're my son. When I heard of what you had done to help young Naomi, I felt myself suddenly thrown in the past, reliving at the same moment the call I had received form the captain of The Exeter after you had 'mind-melded' with a Betazoid. I feared the worst. I remembered how bad it got in the past. It almost killed you twice before. This time, when the Doctor told me that you were in a type 4 coma, I had to come. I had to see you alive, even if it was barely. I could not loose you again without telling you that I never stopped loving you."

Tom put a finger onto his father's lips.

"It's okay, now," he whispered. "I'm okay. I always loved you too. You don't have be scared anymore."

He brushed away his father's tears. "I never seen you cry before," Tom pointed out.

"That's not true. You saw me cry before. You even cried with me to help me get better. Remember?"

Tom gave his father's question some thoughts. "I don't know anymore. I'm confused," he admitted. "I'm too tired."

Owen squeezed his son's shoulders as their blue eyes met.

Tom nodded.

Owen smiled as he pulled his son into a hug.

000

Kathryn walked into the Mess Hall, where she knew she would find Tom and Owen Paris. It had been almost a week since Admiral Paris had arrived into the Delta Quadrant for what would turn out to be a one month stay. Tom, on his part, had been released from Sickbay four days before and was now on regular duties.

It was Kathryn Janeway's greatest joy to see the father and the son share some time together, making amends. Beneath the mutual anger and resentment, Tom and Owen Paris had obviously never stopped loving one another and wanting each other's approval.

In those few days, Kathryn had noticed Owen relax his stern demeanour. He was smiling a lot more, bringing a glee in his blue eyes that Kathryn had not seen there for a very long time. She knew Tom had also saw it and the effect it had on the young man was even more heart-warming.

Tom had finally found what he had been looking for all his adult life: his father's approbation. It had been there for years, although it had never been said. Owen was proud of what Tom had become, of what he had done, and of what he was accomplishing today. The older man open and sincere emotions were felt more strongly each day by his empathic son. Obviously, Owen had learned, or should she say, relearned to deal with Tom's gifted sensitivity. In response, Tom had magically blossomed, like a rose on a bright early sunny morning.

"When did you say we would be able to send you to the Alpha Quadrant?" Kathryn heard Tom asked his father on an annoyed tone.

The admiral snorted.

On the other end, Kathryn remarked as an afterthought, it could turn out to be a long three weeks.

"Kathryn," Owen greeted as he noticed her presence. "Please, have sit. Thomas was about to tell me what had brought him to Weraq."

"No, I wasn't," Tom contradicted. "You never give up, do you?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" his father replied.

A blush crept upon Tom's cheeks. He smiled with embarrassment.

"You're not gonna like this," Tom warned.

"Seeing how adamant you've been to answer my questions, I already figured as much. Still, I would like to know why you were in Lankl's most dangerous part of town. Please, don't tell me it was faith, President Haral already gave me that one."

Tom chuckled. "The President is a good man."

"Yes, he is, and he was lucky as hell to have you cross his path and save his life that night."

Weraq had joined the Federation quite recently. Its membership could not be more than ten or twelve years old. Kathryn had heard about the attempt made on the President's life, prior to
Weraq's adherence.

The idea that Tom had been on the planet during such a time of turmoil was intriguing, but surely not out of character. The fact that he had saved the life of a man who would become one the most influential figure of the Federation in a short period of time was even more captivating. Needless to say that she wanted to know what had brought the young man to Lankl as well.

"I didn't do much," Tom shrugged. "I was at the right place at the right time."

Of course, he had been, Kathryn reflected. Tom always knows where to find trouble.

"Not according to him," Owen pointed out.

"Oh? What did the President told you about me?"

Kathryn, seeing how far this conversation could be going, leaned toward the Admiral. "Bring him back to your question before he leads you too far away from it," she urged him.

"Yes, a judicious advice, My Dear," he replied with a wink

She returned his smile.

"Well?" they both prompted the younger man.

"Well, I was in this particular part of town because I needed a cheep place to stay."

"You could have come home," Owen reminded him.

"Yeah, right," Tom replied rolling his eyes.

"Why Weraq?" Kathryn asked hoping to do some damage control before the two men took another tangent.

Tom shrugged again. "I had found a job."

It could be darn annoying when Tom Paris decided to be uncooperative. He could test one's patience until its very limits, and Kathryn Janeway had never been a very patient woman. She had to give credit to the Admiral perseverance. Of course, Tom was the good Admiral's son. As the saying was going: the apple was never falling very far from the tree.

"I have visited Weraq. Irish traditional music is not popular theme over there, so you weren't in Lankl to sing. That's obvious."

"Not too loud about my singing. The last thing I want is that Neelix overhears us," Tom said in a low voice.

"I would love to hear you sing again," Kathryn told him delighted about the idea.

"And I'd love to see you do the Dying Swan again," came his response without missing a bit.

I'll get you for that, Mister, Kathryn thought to herself as she gave him a challenging glare. She saw Owen looking at her with an evil grin. Better stay on top of things, she decided.

"So you had found a job," she recapitulated. "What kind of job?"

"Nothing not too complicated," he answered with a shrug.

"Anything to do with your Spanish Lady?" asked the Admiral.

"My Spanish Lady?" echoed Tom.

"You know, the petite brunette with chestnut eyes that always looks at you with a mischievous smile which tell you: 'for me to know and for you to find out.'"

Tom laughed. "I think I know who you're talking about."

"Ricky?" wondered Kathryn.

"Her real name is Rachel Fernandez Castillo," Owen stated. "She proved to be wonderful addition to the Pathfinder project."

"Really?" voiced Tom. "She's not a Starfleet Officer."

"She doesn't need to be," Owen told him. "She's the public relation representative. She's in charge of keeping us in contact with the families of Voyager's crew. She is quite an asset when it comes to tracking down some people on which we do not have much to go on."

"She's very good at what she does," Tom granted.

"Yes," agreed Owen, "Which brings me back to your little association yours."

"We aren't associates," Tom denied.

"But you are friends," Owen offered.

"We're friends."

"So, Rachel was in the business of finding people and I know that she asked your help on a few occasions. Were you on Weraq to find someone?"

"I'm sure Rachel already told you that her relations with her clients are confidential," Tom replied.

"She did. But I'm not asking you who you were there to find. I'm asking you if you were there to find someone."

"What if I was?" challenged Tom.

"It tells me what you were doing on Weraq," Owen answered as if stating the obvious.

"Why didn't you asked that in the first place?" came Tom's question.

Owen and Kathryn exchanged a look full of exasperation. They started to laugh with dismay.

Tom would never change.

"What's in this that your father is not supposed to like?" Kathryn wondered.

"The methods he uses to find people," Owen replied.

"I had to ask," Kathryn muttered, thinking that she should have known better.

"And I don't like your traveling methods," Tom retorted.

"We already discussed that issue," Owen reminded him.

"I guess, we'll have to discuss it again," Tom told him.

000

"Tom, I wish we could tell you what you want to hear, but we can't," Harry told him sympathetically. "This is as safe as we can ensure your father's transport to the Alpha Quadrant."

"Well, it's not enough," Tom retorted.

"It will have to suffice," Seven stated.

Was he detecting a hint of irritation in the stern voice of Seven of Nine? Nah, it had to be his imagination.

"Listen to the voice of reason," B'Elanna told him. "Seven is right."

Tom glanced back at the data showing on the main screen of the Astrometric Lab. He sighed again, unsatisfied with the results.

With the help of his father, the Captain, B'Elanna, Harry, Seven and the Doctor, Tom had looked over every bit of information regarding his father's trip into subspace over and over again. Despite all their best efforts, they could only improve the safety of the transport from ten percent.

Ten percent was far from being enough to ease Tom's fears of losing his father to this suicidal endeavour.

"I still can't believe he did a stupid thing like that in the first place," Tom mumbled not for the first time.

"Your father cares about you," said B'Elanna. "Besides, you did stupid things for people you cared about yourself."

"I never did anything that stupid!" Tom rebuked.

Harry snorted.

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Maybe I should contact the Doctor and asked for his insight in the matter," suggested Seven.

It was Tom turned to snort. "Alright," he gave in. "I'm an idiot too at times. But that doesn't change anything."

"No, it doesn't" agreed B'Elanna. "Tom, your father is leaving tomorrow. Why don't you make good use of the time you have left with him?"

Tom nodded. "You're right," he told his lover. He gave the situation some more thoughts before looking up at Harry. "You know any one who has a violin?"

000

It was definitely one of Kathryn's dreams come true. Heck, it was even better than what she could have imagined! There, in the replication of an old Irish pub, Tom had handed a fiddle to his father as an invitation to join him on stage. Their makeshift band was also composed of Harry Kim, Patrick Fitzgerald, Joe Carey, and Michel Ayala.

Kathryn had heard rumours of the Admiral playing the fiddle, but she didn't know he could sing as well. He had a deep soft tenor voice that could carry you miles away. It was a gift his son had inherited along with a taste for Celtic Folklore.

Tom took a sip of water before speaking again.

"This next song as a rather strange title and it deals with a rather strange subject, at least from the point of view of the people of Delta Quadrant. You see, this song irritates the people of this quadrant because of all those carpet-banging strangers from the Federation who are infesting the D.Q."

The crowd snorted and laughed.

"Everyone is out there trying to get their hands on those leola root supplies," he added.

"That's for sure!" agreed Neelix somewhere in the crowd.

More laugher.

"This song also has a personnel connotation. It came to mind as I tried to figure out which of my father or I tended to do the most stupid things. Sadly, I realized that the apple was never falling very far from the tree..."

Again, laugher could be heard.

"To make this song, originally produced by Canadian signer Stan Rogers, a bit more relevant, I did make a few changes to the lyrics. And it is dedicated to all you, with apologies to the people of the Delta Quadrant, and even to you Dad. This song is entitled: The Idiot."

"I often take those night shift walks when the Commander's not around.
I turn my back to the Doctor's tasks and make for open ground.
Far into the holodeck where the warp core makes no sounds
I forget the stinks and always think back to that Alpha Quadrant town.

I remember six years ago this Delta Quadrant life I chose
and everyday, the news would say some sector going to close
Well, I could have stayed and take the Dole but I'm not one of those.
I take nothing free and that makes me an idiot, I suppose.

So I bid ferwell to the Alpha Quadrant town I never more will see.
But work I must so I eat this food and breath refinery.
Oh, I miss the green and woods and streams
And I don't like Starfleet clothes
But I like being free and that makes me an idiot, I suppose.

000

After offering his best wishes to the crew and making his goodbyes, Admiral Owen Paris left the bridge of the USS Voyager for the transporter room in company of Captain Janeway and his son.

Kathryn stopped in front of the transporter room indicating that she had no intentions of going further. They all had a very busy morning, making sure that the Admiral's transport back to the Alpha Quadrant would be a safe one, leaving no time for Tom and his father to have a private moment together.

Kathryn extended her hand expecting the Admiral to shake in return. He took her hand in his own and pulled Kathryn into a friendly hug for a few seconds.

"You are making an old Admiral very proud, Captain," he told her. "Your devotion and this crew's dedication is an inspiration to us all. You take good care of yourself, Kathryn."

"I will, Sir. You have a safe trip."

He nodded, and with that, followed his son into the transporter room. Ensign Kim working at the control station looked a bit surprised to see only the two men come in. He recovered quickly, understanding that the moment should be a personal one for the father and the son. He informed Tom that everything was ready, made his goodbyes to the Admiral, and then took his leave.

"This is it," Tom said trying to hide his nervousness.

"Yes, it is"Owen agreed, hoping his son could not feel just how nervous he really was. "Everything will go as planed," he reassured his son for the umpteen time.

"It better be," Tom said. "I can't loose you again."

"You never lost me, Son," Owen replied softly.

"Yes, I did... At least, that's how it felt to me," Tom tried to explain. "I know we might never see each other again, but promise me you still be around for a long time."

"I will, if you promise me the same thing," Owen agreed with a smile. "No more stunts like you did a month ago. Otherwise, I will have to come back and kick your butt."

"Oh no, not that!"

They both chuckled.

"I'm proud of you, Son," Owen said more seriously. "I'm proud of your work. I'm proud of who you became and what you stand for." He put his hand on Tom's shoulder. "I love you, Thomas. Remember that. Both your mother and I love you."

He pulled his son into a bear hug.

"I love you too, Dad," Tom said trying to control his emotions. "You tell Mom, Moira, and Kathleen that I love them very much."

"I will tell them," Owen promised. "You be careful out there."

"I will."

They share an instant of uncomfortable silence.

"We better do this," Owen said taking upon himself to break the special moment between the two of them. Tom nodded and made as his way to the control while Owen positioned himself on the transporter platform.

"Have a safe trip," Tom said.

"Goodbye, Son."

"Goodbye, Dad."

They shared one last look before Tom it the 'energize' button.

000

1 month later

Harry Kim walked on the bridge with a series of PADDs in hand. With Seven of Nine, Harry had passed the last few hours downloading the latest transmission sent by Pathfinder. It was
not in Harry's habits to walk around the ship playing mailman, that was one of Neelix's prerogatives, however this time was different.

Tom had finally received news from home. Ever since Admiral Paris had been transported back to the Alpha Quadrant a month earlier, his best friend had lived in a constant uncertainty that something might have happen to his father.

From what they had been able to determine from their sensory readings, the transport seemed to have gone accordingly to plan, but that had not reassured Tom much. As he had elaborated
numerous times, a lot of things could have happened: degradation of the transporter patterns over the distance, toxicity of organic materials that could lead to neuronal degradation and other cellular death, so on and so forth. Truth be told, his fears were legitimate.

"Tom," Harry called, coming down to the pilot's station.

Tom looked up with a smile as he acknowledger Harry's presence. His smile faded away as he saw the PADD that his friend was tending to him. Aware of everyone's gaze upon him, Tom took the PADD self-consciously. He read the few first lines and then a smile reached his blue eyes.

"It's from Mom," he told them. "She says that Dad is fine. She is wondering if by any chance we would like to have him back."

000

THE END.

A year later, I finally finished this story. Thank you for all of you who read the story and encouraged me along the way.

The original song: "The Idiot" as been written by Stan Roger, a ate Folk signer from Halifax, Canada.

Big Thanks too all of you!

Feedback is always appreciated.

Isabelle S.

April 2001.