Chapter 3 Therapy

Progress. They all said he was making so much progress. But even doctors can be so wrong.

Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres packed her suitcase and prepared to leave San Francisco and the Starfleet compound to begin her long trip home. After more than seven months, she was finally coming home to Miral. Her excitement grew, not only for that reunion but also because her husband, Max Burke, had been found safe and sound. His ship, the Equinox, had merely lost propulsion and comms in the Beta Quadrant and was later discovered adrift by a passing Klingon vessel. He was never in the Delta Quadrant on some secret assignment, as the Starfleet head shed suspected. Just a routine survey mission gone wrong that became a big flap over nothing. B'Elanna was furious but also relieved that it was just a big misunderstanding. Typical Starfleet bullshit.

Her shuttle would arrive within the hour, the one that would take her to the Los Angeles Intergalactic Spaceport for a ride in first class to Q'onoS. Once on the Klingon home world she would catch the weekly Fleeter hop to Deep Space Nine. That route would shorten her journey by nearly a month and she was so grateful for that. Starfleet picked up the first-class cost; Admiral Paris told her it was the least they could do for her wasting months with his son.

Surprisingly, she did not view it that way. Wasted time? No, not exactly. She had come to know Tom Paris fairly well and that was reward enough for her. He was complicated to be sure, grieving, and living an unproductive life. That much was certain. But underneath that blonde hair and behind those blue eyes of his was something that she simply could not get at. She really felt for him.

Going home to the Station hurt her, as well. It meant not only a failed mission, the first of her career, but also as if she was leaving behind unfinished business.

Maybe it had been the way Tom talked to her, as if she was married to him. She almost believed it just a few days ago; he was so convincing and had nearly worn her down. But all those PADDs that she now gathered up also showed his obvious insanity. Tom Paris was a broken man who would live out the rest of his life in a world of his own creation. But she also knew that it was only a matter of hours before they would cut on him. And if that did not work he was going to the Federation 'fruit farm' where deeply disturbed individuals were kept away from society and absent their support network of those who loved them. Of all the societal holdovers from past eras, ending State institutionalization of the mentally ill was something that the Federation Council had never been able to find common agreement over. Too many worlds and that Prime Directive kept getting in the way.

As an added bonus, she had been given an appointment to talk with her husband and daughter via MIDAS before she left for Los Angeles. It was a long trip back to the Station and they both wanted to see her before boarding a MIDAS-free commercial ship. When offered the air time she did not hesitate. That much she was looking forward to.

As Torres prepared to shut her suitcase she noticed something stuck to her right high heel. It was that holopicture of Tom Paris. She had accidently stepped on it, punching a small tear right where his heart would be. How odd.

Torres removed her shoe and the image, trying unsuccessfully to push the damaged opening closed. As she replaced her black pump she imagined that this was the way it had been with her and him. The piles of PADDS strewn before her said as much. Over the course of so many months, the two had made progress. But he continually referred to her as his wife and that Miral was their daughter. He seemed so genuine, so compelling.

Torres went to toss the picture into the disposal but something made her stop. Reopening her suitcase, the picture went inside right next to Max. No, it was Miral's image. She had placed Tom next to Miral. It was on top of Max's holopicture and that seemed to be the right place for it. For a moment Max did not seem to be important to her anymore.

Looking at her chronometer showed she had some time before she had to meet the shuttle outside of the Headquarters building. Going over to the window casement, she took a seat on the padded bench and opened her PADD, the one with the session summaries. It was all there, of course, each therapy encounter containing both the official report and her personal transcribed notes. There was so much medical babble in the official ones that it made her head swim. Hers were written in plain English and made far more sense. Reading out loud, B'Elanna recalled some very painful times and also some good ones with a man who ultimately she had come to care for more than just a tiny bit.

"Session One, December 27, 2380. Well, this first encounter did not go well at all. Tom was emotional and violent. I first saw him when he walked into the courtyard jabbering to himself, as usual. He paused to meet with one of the attendants who nodded her head sympathetically to appease his rants. Then he looked up and saw me. I was sitting on a bench under the large oak tree. That caused him to break into a dead run, his arms open and extended with the biggest smile I had ever seen on anyone's face to include my husband and parents. He kept calling my name over and over and I could see he was crying. I should have been afraid of him but I wasn't."

Torres stopped reading for a moment, not wanting to go on. She took a deep breath and continued anyway. "Tom stopped in front of me as I stood up and he asked how I was. I could see he wanted to kiss me but contact was forbidden and I wouldn't allow that anyway. So I told him I was fine. I lied. I miss Max and Miral so much but he did not need to know that. Then he asked about Miral and I lost it. I was so emotionally spent that I just lost it. Tom reached out for me but stopped. I suppose he just wanted to give me a hug. I pushed him away and he stared. I could see the pain in his eyes. Then the attendants ran over because they saw him touch me. He hadn't but they began to beat him anyway. Three of them jabbed him in the neck with Klingon pain sticks and he screamed my name once more. I stood there motionless remembering my non-interference orders as they injected him with sedatives and he collapsed to the ground."

Torres stopped again. She was biting her thumb, her mind asking over and over why she did not intervene. But she was too disciplined to do it, although she knew this was so wrong. And she knew what came next. They dragged Tom through those doors again and she did not get to see him for a while. Her inquiries about him initially went unanswered but eventually she was informed that he had calmed down and was doing better. Commander Deanna Troi offered a few techniques to avoid a repeat performance. Not that she wanted that. It had been horrible. Closing that document, she opened the next.

"Session Two, January 18, 2381. Commander Troi insisted that a staff psychologist accompany me because we were going into Tom's room. I entered along with Commander Pablo Baytart but I really did not need him. Tom was in a straitjacket, sitting on his bed, rocking back and forth and mumbling. His face had not been washed or shaved in days, probably because he was covered with bruises and his right eye was closed. I was told Tom had fallen down in a fit but I did not believe it. Baytart stood ready with the anesthesia gun, his finger on the trigger, which is unsafe. I told him to put that thing away and I sat down in a chair a few feet away from Paris. Tom looked at me through his good eye and simply said, "Hello, B'Elanna." For the next half hour he said nothing else while humming to himself. No matter what I said he just sat there looking around as if he was searching for something. So I did what was asked of me. I explained who I was and my Starfleet background. He grunted when I talked about us being friends at the Academy. When I mentioned Max Burke he became very agitated and I thought Baytart was going to zap him. I knew he really wanted to do it. But this time I held up my hand and gave him one of my looks. He backed off."

That made her laugh. Her husband also knew that when she looked that way she was not to be messed with. Obviously, other men got the same message.

"I began to talk about me. My Starfleet education and how I graduated as an engineer. Paris shook his head and I swore he mouthed 'That's a lie.' I am many things but not a liar! Then I talked about being married to Max and our life together and assignments. Tom said nothing until I mentioned giving birth to Miral. With that he perked up. I could tell there was fatherhood in his eyes and he fought his restraints as if he wanted to hold her. I could almost feel his love for her; the psychosis is so strong in Tom Paris. Then I began to carefully explain that I was not married to him, no matter what he thought. He began to nod his head in what appeared to be agreement."

But that was not it, as she discovered.

"I guess I moved too hard this time, sensing an opening. I kept pressing him to just let go of me and Miral. I told him that if would let go of me he would get better. The sessions would stop. He could get proper treatment and fly once more. His eyes widened when I mentioned flying, a look of absolute joy suddenly came over him. I was right. Flying is Tom's passion and obviously it means more to him than his fantasy about me. But I was so wrong, for he looked at me and said, "Being with you, B'Ella, is like flying." I nearly lost it again."

Torres stood up now and walked around, the PADD wobbling in her hands. What the hell are you doing to me, Tom Paris? After just two sessions with you I was feeling something. Harry is right. You are one seductive son of a bitch.

She steadied herself and continued. "I became very frustrated then. I needed a break from this lunatic and walked away with Baytart, session over. Done. But then something just made me stop, probably because I could feel his good eye boring right through my back. So I just turned and walked back to Tom who was humming once more. I stopped and put on my best 'I'm disgusted' pose and then I looked down and just asked him, "What the hell do you want from me, Paris?" I saw Tom work his mouth. It was so dry from not being given a drink in a while. Then his face changed. It became so calm and lucid-looking that for an instant I thought he was sane. 'About time you asked me, Bea. I want you to have the rain take the pain away. Tell the world I'm coming home.' Then he winked at me with his one good eye."

B'Elanna recalled that she did not sleep well that night at all.

Her finger scrolled down the PADD and opened the next document. "February 1, 2381. I talked with Paris for several hours while he was being guarded closely in the hospital courtyard. Tom swore he would not try anything and he was the perfect gentleman. At first the session was similar to the last one. Nothing of value came out of it other than he missed his wife and daughter and desperately wanted to be together with them once more. But then he turned very dark. Tom told me he had a secret, one he would share only with me despite his knowing there were microphones and cameras everywhere. I said okay and we went over to that oak tree. He was careful not to touch me but he wanted to hold my hand. I could tell. I looked to Commander Tuvok but he shook his head. No personal contact."

Now she walked over to her bed and sat down. "I really felt weird because I wanted to hold onto his. Then he just looked at me and said he knew that it wasn't possible to see me or Miral anymore because we were no longer married. Of course I was so relieved! Finally he admitted that I wasn't his wife. I asked him, 'Why, why Tom, why do you know that now?' His eyes narrowed a bit. They were so far away. So full of hurt. 'Because you are dead, B'Elanna. You are both dead. You died in a shuttle crash a year ago and I was responsible. I must come home, to take the pain away and be with you both in Sto-vo-Kor.' I was stunned. I raked my nails on my skin to draw blood to prove to him I was alive. It did not matter. He said I was a hologram like Commander Janeway. I know Holograms can die but they do not bleed real blood."

Torres drank some water, thinking about what came out of that conversation. Tom had suddenly shifted his conversation and began to address her as if she wasn't B'Elanna anymore. "He thought I was his oldest sister and I wrote his words down exactly as he said them. 'You know, Moira, when I married B'Elanna I knew I had finally found her. The woman I had been looking for my entire life. Yeah, we had our differences and scraped shields like any married couple but she was everything to me. Why did she have to get on that shuttle with Miral? It wasn't ready. I hadn't prepped it correctly. I had walked away. Only for a moment. Just a few seconds to locate a hypo-spanner and a nacelle tube probe and scrubber to flush the gummy plasma injector lines. But she was so excited about getting into the Delta Flyer and taking it for a spin. So fascinated by that ship. And she wanted to prove she could fly it without me. I should have been there. I could have stopped her. Now they are gone forever.' Then Tom looked at me as if I was a wraith. He knew he should not touch me but he did. And he cringed in terror and not just because they were going to beat the shit out of him when they reviewed the video. If he was clear-headed he would have seen my shocked face. But he wasn't coherent at all. He told me in so many words when I then became his other sister, Kathy. "How you can listen to an insane man ramble on about his dead wife and child is beyond me. Kath, you never had to go through this torture. I pray to God you never do. Someone take the pain away, please. Make it rain."

She pressed the fast forward button, advancing the holovideo towards the end of the session. The video stopped where she tried to gently press Paris for more but Tom just brushed that off, his mind had moved elsewhere. "Then suddenly he told me there was no tragic accident. He had just made the whole thing up. He smiled and laughed. I was furious. So sick of him to do that to me. I remember shivering, as if someone stuck an ice cube down my back. Later I checked. He did make all of that up. But Troi said it was a good thing. A positive thing. Tom was starting to cope with the fact that I was not married to him. Death was a way to do that."

Torres remembered that after that session there was a major meeting among the staff with Admiral Owen Paris present. They all concurred that B'Elanna had indeed made significant progress. Paris was on the verge of admitting the truth. Maybe she had accomplished something. Maybe Tom was moving forward now.

That evening she had gone to her quarters, sat on the bed, and cried for two hours. Then she considered something she had not thought about. Maybe it was true that Tom had been married but not to her. Maybe she was a Maquis woman. The unthinkable had happened and that woman and their baby were dead and even the hospital doctors did not know that. And how would Admiral Paris know? After all, Tom had been Maquis for two years and only he knew all the details about that experience. But why had he insisted for so long that he was married to B'Elanna and that his daughter was Miral? No, this line of thinking was not right. Deep inside she knew he still believed he was married to her but why still remained a mystery.

Over the next week she had found herself wishing that Tom Paris would be magically cured so she could go home. Seeing Miral a few times via Midas made her feel lonely, as did her growing depression over having heard nothing about Max and the Equinox at the time despite incessant inquiries on her part. She knew she was grieving him and that made her realize a few things about Tom Paris. He was grieving, as well. He had created a false hope about his sorry ass existence within that fantasy of his. This was so hard for her; trying to handle her own personal issues while helping Tom to cope with his.

Now came the last session. The one that ended Tom's life, as he had fabricated it.

"February 27, 2381. Tom regressed. He again talked with me as if we are married. He asked me to recall alleged instances from our past such as the time I collapsed in Engineering when it was discovered I was pregnant. That never happened but it is so clear that being married to me and having a daughter with him means so much. In a way, I think Tom loves me more than Max could ever do. That is so hard for me to say but I feel it is true. And I'm sorry, Max, for thinking that way. Later I spoke with the administration and staff about having just one more therapy session but they concluded that Tom was too far gone after slipping in his recovery. With some regret they decided to call this entire experiment off and move on to the next step."

B'Elanna turned off the PADD and gathered up her suitcase. As she left her room to go home she recalled something that was very curious. Tom had asked, "Do you remember an Irish village called Fairhaven? Or a luau where you wore a tropical dress and I said you looked 'smashing?'" "No, Tom, none of that." Tom just grinned at her. "Someday you will. Once it rains."

It was so sad to her that Tom was obviously hallucinating with no grasp of what was real or not. But he had ended that last interview in a positive way. He said he wanted to fly. With her. She was flattered and was so pleased! But he did not want to be the pilot with her as his flight engineer. No way. Just two passengers together on their way to Tahiti, for their second honeymoon. He wanted this so much and maybe she could make that happen, in a way. They could take a quick flight around San Francisco with some hospital staff to see how he reacted. He had never been out of the hospital since being rescued, that much she knew to be true. Maybe this was exactly what he needed; to get him into the air once more. He would be under restraints, sure. But he was so excited about being with her on a shuttle. Torres was confident that just one flight would put him on the road to recovery.

But Doctor Crusher and Counselor Troi both said no. Absolutely not. And they convinced Admiral Paris and everyone else to reject this idea. It was too late for that, they said, and now it was time to shave Tom's head and prep him for surgery. As she opened the door to the turbolift she knew that procedure was happening this evening. In her heart-of-hearts she was weeping. She just could not imagine what they were going to do to him.

As she stepped outside bag in hand she fumbled with her official PADD and sent Commander Janeway an urgent message that she wanted to see Admiral Paris. For some reason she trusted Janeway and she had to stop this procedure. Disappointment crossed her face minutes later. The Admiral was enroute to Mars colony and would not be back for three days. Sadly, she closed her PADD and also her relationship with Tom Paris, one that she had actually come to value. Turning on her heel, she walked up to the awaiting hovercar and handed her bag to the driver.