Disclaimer: All things Star Trek belong to CBS/Paramount. I only own my imagination.
Spoilers: Blood Fever. 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. There have been so much focus on this episode with countless what-if fics written as well as missing scenes. Expectations are high on anything written around this episode. I have chosen to make this a low key instalment, the calm after a perfect storm.
Pain, all sorts of pain... his scent... voices... light...
B'Elanna snapped out of her half slumber and opened her eyes wide staring in to the relative darkness of her quarters. She felt no pain, only a slight twinge in her side. Raising her head from the pillow and looking down she remembered that her ribs had suffered from the fight with Vorik. They had been healed but according to the EMH she would be soar in that region for a few days. She let her head fall back on the pillow.
The chronometer told her that it was almost midnight. The past hours she had dozed off for short periods – five, ten, fifteen minutes – only to wake up from fragmented dreams about the events of the day. It was to be expected that she would have difficulties sleeping normally, the Doctor had told her. However, she was growing weary of this, the interrupted slumber, the dreams, the reminders of what had happened.
"Computer, bedside lamp at 30%," she ordered. The light would help with the disorientation when she woke up after slumbering, she decided and sighed. It was a bit like having a fever, but without the spiking temperature. She glanced at the padd on her bedside table but decided she wouldn't be able to concentrate on it.
Her thoughts cycled back to her day. Some of it she only dimly remembered while others stood out, sharp and vivid. The weariness seemed to have exhausted and turned off her Klingon temper, making it possible to look at what had happened with more clarity than usual. She was embarrassed, there was no getting around that. It hadn't been anything she could control, but it didn't matter, embarrassed she was. What mortified her the most was that she had lost control over her aggression and instincts. The defences and techniques she used to handle her reactions to the world and people around her had failed. It was her worst nightmare come true.
Right after the fight with Vorik she had been rather numb and it had felt natural to reach out for support from Tom, but as the effects of her now cured condition wore off she felt increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. She had challenged him, fought him, been unable to stop herself from tasting his blood and let all her Klingon instincts take over, showing a side she was sure would scare anyone off. It scared herself.
B'Elanna quickly threw her covers to the side, got out of bed and padded over to the replicator.
"Water, cold," she ordered and when it had materialised she picked it up and drank eagerly. It did nothing to banish the memories flooding her mind. She leaned her back against the wall and put the cool glass against her cheek and closed her eyes. In all of this her admission to Tom about what she really felt seemed the lesser evil. That in itself could have been explained away with excuses, but her behaviour on the other hand... Her legs gave out under her and she sank to her knees when she realised that everyone, Tom, Chakotay, the Doctor, captain Janeway, Tuvok and by now most of the ship, if the grapevine worked as it usually did, knew what she had done. Those who didn't already know much about Klingon habits would soon be enlightened. There were no secrets when it came to Klingons.
Slowly she opened her eyes and stared at the stars outside her viewport and realised she couldn't lie to herself. She had done what she had wished she dared to do for so long. It had happened and she had no idea how deal with the consequences from her actions.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
The yellow dot-eating little thing moved around in the labyrinth to a plain beeping sound. It was a simple game but it had a tendency to draw you in, something which suited Tom at the moment. A quick glance at the chronometer revealed that it was nearly midnight. As he turned his attention back to the game he hissed at his lack of focus, and the sound of a dying pac man was heard. With a sigh he let the padd sink to his side as he sat wondering if he should switch to tetris instead.
Instead of coming to a decision he rose, leaving the padd on the couch, and walked over to the replicator.
"Water, cold," he ordered. Perhaps he should try the bed anyway, he mused as he picked up the water and went over to the viewport. His mind was still spinning but it would definitely be easier to fall asleep if he actually went to bed. When looking down on the planet hanging outside the viewport he sighed again and lifted the glass to drink.
He had paid little attention to Vorik as he and B'Elanna collapsed, but he noticed that Vorik seemed to recover faster than the half-Klingon he had caught in his arms. Even though B'Elanna was physically strong she wasn't Vulcan, and it became clear that her half-human physiology had a tougher time recovering. When Harry finally could contact them with the news that they could be beamed up, she was awake but unable to stand on her own. Knowing she wouldn't appreciate being carried through the ship, from the transporter room to sickbay, he asked Harry to beam them directly to sickbay.
The captain had showed up in sickbay, talked briefly with Vorik and B'Elanna before turning to him asking to speak to him in private. B'Elanna's dark eyes had followed him as he walked with the captain to the EMH's office, and he guessed that she was beginning to agonise over what had transpired on the planet.
Captain Janeway stood glancing through the glass at the two patients being treated by the EMH and Kes.
"I generally have no intention to intrude in people's private lives, but this... " she sighed and turned her head towards Tom. "This isn't private any more."
Tom nodded and stared out through the glass at Vorik. What the captain said held a promise that there would be consequences for the Vulcan ensign, something he agreed there had to be. He was glad he wouldn't be involved in that process though.
"There's no hurry with the report on this and since we're in orbit and will stay here for at least another 36 hours I suggest you take some time off," captain Janeway continued.
"I'm fine ma'am," he pointed out.
"I'm sure you are, but I still think it's wise for you to have some time to yourself – away from prying eyes," Janeway replied.
Conversation over he went to his quarters and tried to figure out what to do. A shower and some food later he had picked up a padd to immerse himself in 20th century games to keep his thoughts from spinning.
He finished off his water and looked down at the glass. All evening his thoughts had circled back to the question how to handle this. He believed she told him the truth down on the planet, and it was encouraging, but he knew it would still be complicated. With a brief smile he turned away from the viewport and headed for the bathroom, disposing the glass in the recycler on the way. It was time to try to sleep some.
