Look After You- Chapter Twenty
Thanks to Pepper for the btea. References to Lifesigns and Investigations.
***
"Even the sturdiest ground can shift and tremble and let us fall down. Kindly unspoken you show your emotion and silence speaks louder than words," Kate Voegele, Kindly Unspoken
***
As soon as Tom returned back to his quarters, he started venting out all his frustration and anger.
He grabbed the nearest thing he could find, which happened to be his Rock 'Em Sock 'Em toy, and watched as he hurled it against the wall and it shattered into pieces.
A part of him knew that this wasn't the Captain's fault. If she could see another way, she would have done it. But she had chosen this, and now he was her puppet at her disposal.
He grabbed another object, a plate from yesterday's dinner and smashed that against the wall too.
He respected the Captain. Probably more than anyone onboard. She had believed in him from the moment he had met her and likewise, she had never given him reason for him to doubt her abilities. Until now.
He hurled a mug against the wall.
The Captain may have been the one who gave him the opportunity to reform aboard Voyager, but Chakotay was the one who gave him the chance to change in the first place. If it wasn't for him, Tom would never have been part of the Maquis, even if only momentarily. He never would have remembered what it felt like to believe in something, or have someone believe in you. And most importantly, he would not have been caught on his first mission Chakotay gave him, and hence would never have ended up in jail and had Janeway come and seek him out. If not for Chakotay, no doubt Tom would still be drunk in a bar somewhere, or better yet, he would be dead.
Just as he had the highest respect for Janeway, so too did he have that same respect for Chakotay. To have the respect Chakotay had slowly but surely built for him crumble down in an instant was somewhat devastating and Tom couldn't help but feel it was unjust.
The Captain hadn't told him outright that he needed to antagonize Chakotay, but she had made it clear that he needed to make it believable that he wanted to leave Voyager, and that meant putting on a performance he knew that Chakotay would inevitably question.
Tom severely doubted Kathryn's decision to isolate Chakotay in her plans. Whether it was Tuvok's idea or not, there was no question that Chakotay would be angry and even hurt that Kathryn hadn't informed him. After all, weren't the two Captains supposed to be a united team? If she was already hiding things from Chakotay, Tom knew the damage would be irrevocable. This stratagem of hers was not only damaging the fragile relationship between the two men, but it was also doing worse damage to hers and the Commander's relationship. Tom knew that if the mission was successful and if he made it back -and that was a big if-, he could repair the damage done. The Captain on the other hand, might not be so lucky. Tom hadn't been lying when he said there was a price to pay.
That price wasn't just his safety, but the respect of two of her senior officers.
He hurled another object at the wall.
He never thought he could hate the Captain, and never ever wanted to feel that way about her. But he could not deny that the anger and rage that he had been feeling recently was directed at her. Whether it was because the stress of the mission was getting to him and clouding his judgement, he didn't know. All he knew was that he couldn't wait until this was all over. He knew the lives of the people of Voyager may well depend on him, but the burden was proving hard to bear.
He grabbed a final object, which happened to be a photo frame, and hurled that in the direction of the door. The frame shattered, making a noise that was more high-pitched than the others, and this seemed to snap him out of his rage. Walking over to the remains of the frame, he picked up the photo that was in it.
Glancing at the photo, he emitted a sigh and sunk down against the door. Other than the photo that was hidden under his computer, this was the only photo he had in his quarters. The picture was of him, Harry and B'Elanna and a few months ago, when Tom and Harry had started dragging B'Elanna everywhere. They were in Sandrine's by the pool table, and Tom remembered that he and Harry had been playing pool, and Harry had actually managed to win against him, much to B'Elanna's amusement. Joe Carey had been hanging around, taking photos of people -he had gone through a phase and taken up photography as a hobby-, and had asked to take one of the three of them. In it, Harry and Tom had stood either side of B'Elanna; Harry with a grin the size of Saturn, Tom managing a smile even though he had been miffed about losing, and then there was B'Elanna, displeased and generally not satisfied about having her photo taken with no smile in sight. He loved that photo. Everything had been much simpler then. He had almost forgotten what those times had been like. He missed those times. He missed hanging out with his two friends. But most of all, he missed them.
***
B'Elanna had wandered around the ship, her mind ablaze with questions and confusion, and like the time before, so very long ago, she found herself outside Tom's quarters, trying to find comfort.
Back then, he was the only one who could calm her unsettling mind, and she hoped he could do the same now. It didn't matter that he hadn't been acting himself recently; she just wanted solace and he was it.
She pressed on his door chime. No answer. She waited a moment, and pressed it again. No answer. She frowned. She knew that Tom was in his quarters. Maybe he was sleeping? It seemed too early to be asleep, but she never knew with Tom.
She knocked gently on his door.
"Tom?" she called out. "It's B'Elanna. Are you there?"
Again no answer.
"I know you've been acting a bit strange lately, but you should know that it doesn't matter to me. Or to Harry. I just…I just really need to talk to you right now," she said softly, realizing that she was showing a lot more vulnerability than she intended to, and not caring either way.
Still no answer.
She realized that Tom was probably resting or genuinely didn't want to see her right now, and dejected, she walked away.
***
Tom closed his eyes at the sound of B'Elanna's voice outside his door. God, how he had missed her.
She sounded upset, and that need to find out what was wrong was so strong that he stood up and faced the door, about to let her in.
But he stopped himself from doing so. There was no way he could let her in, revealing the aftermath of his rage and the state he was in.
"I know you've been acting a bit strange lately," came her voice, sounding so soft that he could have mistaken it for her human self. "But you should know that it doesn't matter to me. Or to Harry." He smiled at this thought. "I just…I just really need someone to talk to right now."
He leaned his head against the door, imagining that she was close on the other side. The discernable need to reach out and help her was tangible, and he closed his eyes again. What kind of friend was he, to leave a friend in need hanging?
One that wasn't capable of looking after himself, much less someone else.
If he opened his doors, he'd be showing her a side of him that he didn't want anyone to see, especially her, and that feeling to hide that from her was more important to him than helping her.
And right now, he wasn't in the state of mind to be able to help anyone.
***
B'Elanna walked away from Tom's quarters, and started heading in another direction. Where she was going, she wasn't sure. Although a small part of her knew that it was possible that Tom might not want to talk to her, especially with the fact that he'd been strenuously avoiding her and Harry, she had somewhat hoped that he would talk to her anyway.
"Maquis!" a voice called out from behind her.
She turned around to see Harry bounding up to her.
"Harry," she greeted in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Kes told me that Tom had been released from the Brig and might need someone to talk to. I was on my way to see him, and thought I saw you trailing off."
She shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah, I wanted to talk to Tom, but he…he didn't answer." She sighed. "But you know, whatever, I…" her voice trailed off.
Harry noted the tired look in her eyes and the way she seemed incredibly distracted.
"B'Elanna, what's wrong?" he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders.
"Something happened, and I just want to talk to someone. I really wanted to talk to Tom, but…" her voice trailed off again.
"Well, I may be no Tom Paris, but rumour has it that I'm a pretty good dispenser of advice," he informed her. "Why don't we go back to my quarters, and you can talk to me?"
B'Elanna considered this for a moment. Tom would understand the situation better, but he wasn't exactly here. And Harry was Harry. Harbinger of good things. If he couldn't console her, then she doubted there was anyone left who could.
She managed a small smile. "Thanks, Harry."
He placed an arm around her shoulders and led her to his.
***
It had been about a year since the three of them had started hanging out together, and Harry had noted a number of things about B'Elanna since then. One was that B'Elanna had come out of her shell a lot, and was generally a lot more relaxed around him and Tom than she had been at the start. Back then, he knew she had been reluctant to spend time with them, preferring a solitary lifestyle. But slowly they had both drawn her out and got her to the point where going back to that lifestyle would have been abhorrent for her. Another thing he had noted was that B'Elanna was a lot more willing to talk about things. Back then, ask her something that pertained to her personal life, and the chances were she would have slit the person's throat. And while she didn't exactly broadcast her problems, she'd be more likely to say what was wrong if asked. B'Elanna was an incredibly private person, but the walls she had long erected to protect herself were starting to dissolve. She and Tom had that in common. Or had had that in common, in the case of Tom.
Harry listened to B'Elanna telling him about Denara: how the Doctor had practically ordered her to donate her DNA -from her brain no less- and how she had resisted him at every turn, and how she had met the young Vidiian woman and was instantly thrown into conflict.
"When the Doctor asked me to donate my DNA, he acted as if it was as simple as removing a splinter from my finger, and his attitude angered me. Really angered me. He had no right to demand that from me, as if I were some kind of toy to be used and discarded! And there was no way I was going to let him do it. But then that woman came in. Harry, she was dignified, compassionate, moral and-,"
"Everything you thought the Vidiians weren't," he finished for her.
"Yes," she agreed. "And I don't know whether it's because she's a woman or because she's been ostracised for most of her life, but she's different from the others. I want to help her, but-,"
"Because of what they did to you and Durst, you don't want to help them."
She nodded, glad that he understood her. She edged closer to him on the couch they were both sitting on.
"Harry, the Vidiians scare me," she told him honestly.
Harry looked at B'Elanna and noted the vulnerability in her eyes.
"I thought Klingons don't feel fear," he said in attempt to inject humour in the situation, although he wasn't feeling particularly humorous right now.
"This Klingon does," she whispered.
"It's okay B'Elanna. I don't judge you for it. And nobody else does either. If I were in your shoes, I'd feel the exact same way."
B'Elanna attempted to smile. "Thanks, Harry." She frowned. "But this feeling…it's inexplicable, and completely irrational. Just the thought of Vidiians looking for us, looking for new donors, paralyses me with fear. I thought I had overcome the nightmares, but I still have them occasionally. I should be over the Vidiians by now and should by no means let this…feeling conquer me."
"You're not a Vulcan, B'Elanna. You don't have full reign of your emotions. You experienced something traumatic and it doesn't matter if you're half-Klingon, fully Klingon or…a lizard. It's not something you can forget easily."
She quirked an eyebrow. "A lizard?"
"Purely speculative of course."
She nodded. "I hate feeling like this," she muttered.
Harry grinned. "I guess that means you hate feeling human."
B'Elanna laughed. There was irony there somewhere.
She closed her eyes for a moment and a familiar voice spoke in her head. Courage doesn't mean that you don't have fear. It means that you've learned to overcome it.
Tom's words. It had seemed like so long ago that she heard him speak those words. She'd barely known him then. Right now, she felt like she barely knew him at all. But there was logic in his words.
"I have to learn how to overcome this," she declared.
Harry nodded, approval gleaming in his eyes. "So what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to prove to myself that not all Vidiians are enemies. I'm going to do this. I'm going to give Denara my DNA."
"That sounds like a good choice, Maquis."
"Thanks, Starfleet."
"Come on. I'll walk you to Sickbay."
***
Tom started picking up the broken pieces on the floor, trying to get his quarters back in order. Just two more days, he thought. Two more days and I'll be off of this ship. He just wished that he could spend his last few days onboard or alive, whichever it was to be, with his friends and not cooped up feeling incredibly sorry for himself.
Wherever B'Elanna was and whatever had been upsetting her, he hoped she was okay. Even better, he hoped that she had Harry cheering her up. If there ever was a guy who knew how to cheer someone up, it was Harry.
***
Harry and B'Elanna stood outside Sickbay.
"This is my stop," B'Elanna informed him, and Harry observed her hands twisting together, something she tended to do when she was nervous.
"Good luck, Maquis. And just remember: having a drill plunged through your skull and into your brain is totally painless."
"Yeah, if you don't have a brain, maybe."
"Lucky for me I guess. But lucky for you, medicine has created this wonderful thing called drugs, so the only painful thing you might have to endure is the Doctor's bedside manner."
B'Elanna rolled her eyes at him, and cast a glance at the Sickbay doors. "What if I'm contributing to something I shouldn't be, Harry? Like the robot incident? What if I'm opening a box that shouldn't be open, and being the creator of all that, I unleash something that should have stayed boxed in?"
Harry answered with a simple, "What if you aren't?" He squeezed her hand. "You could be the very reason for the Vidiians to stop doing what they're doing, and focus on other methods. You can give them hope. Have faith in yourself, B'Elanna Torres."
She frowned. "I don't know why you keep addressing me like that."
"B'Elanna Torres has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
She gave him a look.
Harry sighed, and outstretched his arms. "Okay, come here."
She looked at his arms. "What are you doing?"
"Come here," he said again.
B'Elanna reluctantly stepped closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her.
"This is called a hug," he told her.
She raised an eyebrow. "Really, Harry? I never knew," she murmured sarcastically, hesitantly leaning into him.
After briefly holding her tight, he let go of her.
"What was that for?" she asked.
"That was a hug to make you feel better. That's what they're for, you know."
"And there I was thinking people only gave them post-coitus."
Harry grinned. "Maybe next time. Anyway, I have to go but I'm sure it'll go fine. Let me know when you're done and I'll come and get you."
She smiled at him. "Thanks, Harry Kim."
"Anytime, B'Elanna Torres. And for what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing."