Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to CBS/Paramount. I only own my imagination.
Spoilers: Macrocosm. If you haven't seen it, this won't make much sense.
Author's Note: I have the ambition to keep these coming, but I also have a real life which can mess with me. So what happened before Tom and B'Elanna finally passed out?
"*I must inform you that I'm having difficulties getting to you. The virus has spread outside the containment field and in its macro state it is preventing me from getting to you. I'm trying to find a way around them, but it's not easy,*" the EMH said.
"Doc, is there anything I can do for these people in the meantime, aside from the usual stuff?" Tom asked as he started to lean on to the back of a chair.
"*Mr. Paris, you're not in such a splendid condition yourself,*" the EMH said drily. "*I know because I can keep track of your vital signs from here.*"
"Oh I'm very aware of that," Tom said bleakly. "How bad is it? I mean, is this deadly, like those plagues Earth had centuries ago, or will our immune system beat this?" he continued.
"*At this point I can't say. All I can say is that it's serious. Very serious indeed,*" the Doctor reluctantly said.
"But there must be things that can be done while you work on getting here?" Tom asked.
"*The only thing you can do is to try and keep people from becoming de-hydrated, which is easier said than done considering that everyone is suffering from nausea. Try and keep them as cool as you can. Rest is advisable of course, and that means you as well. EMH out,*" the EMH said and ended the transmission.
Tom leaned his head down between his arms. He was not only nauseous but also suffering from vertigo. The fever was still on the rise and because of it he was shivering. He looked up again and forced himself upright. There were people to take care of. Slowly he managed to distribute some water, though most could hardly even swallow a teaspoon of it. Getting people to at least take off their jacket was difficult since the fever still hadn't peaked; people were still feeling cold. Those who were able to walk or do something to help the others, he ordered to help out. Finally he sat down next to B'Elanna again who sat curled up, leaning her head on her knees with her eyes closed. It was strange to see her being affected this way since she was one of the few aboard who very rarely complained over cuts, bruises or any other injuries, or even got simple colds or worse. She had been the first to get infected but he hadn't expected her to become this sick. This had to be one potent virus.
For once he had the opportunity to watch her without her being aware of the fact, but it was hard to appreciate it. Not only because he felt so ill, but also because he worried about her.
"B'Elanna, how are you doing?" he asked softly and reached out to touch her face to try and gauge if the fever was still on the rise. His mother had always checked fevers by putting her lips on his forehead, a method she claimed was superior to the use of hands, but somehow he didn't think B'Elanna would see it for what it was. Besides, he had a fever himself which would make it impossible to tell how high the fever was. At this point he could only tell if she had started to sweat, indicating that the fever had peaked. She barely opened her eyes when he touched her cheek.
"Hi Tom. I'm cold," she replied and remained curled up.
"I know. Your fever is still rising. Can you drink some?" He moved closer so he could help her with the water.
She shook her head. "How come you're not as affected as I am?" she asked with a weak voice and glanced at him through her eyelashes.
"I don't know. Maybe it's because you were infected first. I'm a mere human after all so I'll probably be as sick as you shortly," he said with a smile.
She smiled weakly and closed her eyes. "Well, I don't feel any Klingon superiority right now," she sighed. "I hope I won't get delirium."
"You get that?" he asked with concern.
"You know, when Klingons do get sick, they really get sick. It's a misguided belief that we can't get sick or injured. We do actually get infections, break bones and catch illnesses. Just not that often. Well, maybe injuries. I tend to cut myself on all sorts of things." She glanced up at him. "So yeah, if I get fever, I get delirious." She closed her eyes again.
"In that case I strongly suggest you try and drink some," Tom said with a firm voice and reached for the glass and spoon he had put on the table next to them.
"I really can't drink, Tom," she whined and turned her head away from him.
"Just a teaspoon at the time. And you really need to cool down too. Fever delirium I caused by heat, so it's possible to stave it off if we can keep the fever from rising that high." He moved his chair closer and reached out to hold her while spoon feeding her the water in the glass.
B'Elanna weakly tried to fend him off while inarticulately whining but was unsuccessful. Quickly yielding, she carefully swallowed the water. "I hate you," she growled after swallowing it.
"Flattery isn't getting you anywhere. Here, you need more," he said with a light manner, as light as he could muster, and continued to feed her with water.
"I really can't take more," she breathlessly said and hung her head.
"How about taking some clothes off then?" Tom said, wincing inside at what it sounded like.
She glanced up at him. "I'm sure you'd like that," she said sarcastically.
"You need to keep that fever down so you don't get delirium. I can't lower the temperature here in the mess hall, but if you have less clothes on you won't retain heat the same way. Hopefully it will be enough," he tried to explain, painfully aware that he sounded like the blabbering idiot he usually turned in to when in B'Elanna's presence.
She closed her eyes again. "I'm cold," she whined.
"It's because the fever haven't peaked yet," Tom answered patiently.
"I'm not taking anything off. It's too cold in here. Klingons hate cold." She managed to sound reasonably firm.
"In that case you need to drink more," he stated.
"Why are you tormenting me like this? Go away!" she complained and tried to turn away from him again.
"It's because I care about you B'Elanna," he replied and reached for the spoon again.
"Right," she snorted weakly.
"Open your mouth B'Elanna," he ordered her and she obeyed. "And yes, I really do care," he continued.
"Leave me alone, Tom. You have no idea what you're doing," she whispered and hung her head.
"Yes I do. I may not be a doctor but I have basic medical training. Trust me, I know what to do about fevers." He once again filled the spoon.
B'Elanna snorted silently. Oh Tom, you're so dense sometimes, she thought but said nothing, only swallowed another spoonful of water. Even through the haze of fever she felt it, the way his presence affected her, but fortunately for her she was far to sick to have to worry about it.
"There must be others you can pester," she said and leaned her head against his shoulder.
"A whole room filled actually. I will, if I can move, that is. I'm not feeling too great myself," he said and took a deep breath to try and hold down the nausea. He was becoming increasingly dizzy and nauseated, making it difficult to help B'Elanna or himself. He closed his eyes and felt a burning sensation in his eyes. I really should drink, he thought and opened his eyes to look at the glass. It was nearly empty. There was no way he would manage to walk over to the galley and get some more. He closed his eyes again. Maybe he should try and rest some, he thought. He opened his eyes and looked down at B'Elanna.
"I'm going to help you lie down," he said and started to move.
"You don't sound too good," she mumbled and tried to sit up.
"You're right. I'm not," was all he could say as he tried to get them both down on the floor without letting the law of physics do it for him. B'Elanna curled up on her side once down on the floor and he lied down next to her and closed his eyes. "We're just going to rest now and hope Doc comes up with something." B'Elanna didn't answer but he didn't have the energy to turn his head to look at her. Doc, hurry up with that antidote, he thought and gave in to darkness.
