Finally a short alarm blared, indicating someone on another deck wanted to use the turbolift. Tom looked at her for permission, and when Gretchen nodded he let her go. She wiped her eyes repeatedly, and when she nodded again, Tom started the turbolift.

A moment later the lift arrived on Deck 2, where both the Mess Hall and Gretchen's Quarters were.

"I figured you might want to take a shower and change your clothes before the party," said Tom easily, just before the doors opened, "Dress code is casual."

He hugged her one last time, and she sobbed audibly as he kissed her forehead as he let go, "It'll be okay, Gretch."

The doors were open, and as they both turned, they found B'Elanna standing there.

"I'll meet you at the party," murmured Gretchen, and disappeared.

B'Elanna couldn't see them, but she shifted her weight impatiently, putting her hands on her hips as Gretchen rushed passed her.

"What was Gretchen crying about now?" said B'Elanna, evenly.

Tom exited the turbolift, and gazed intently at the strong woman. He could not tell if she was mad or not, which was not a feeling he enjoyed.

"It's a hard thing to explain," said Tom, feeling exhausted.

"Tell me anyway," said B'Elanna, twisting her head. He still, uncharacteristically, could not read her.

He felt his charm fail him, and only faced her, searching for the right words to tell the frank truth. He breathed in and out for a moment.

"She was upset about something that happened in her timeline. I know you're mad, or I think you're mad but….it doesn't really matter, if you think she's being too emotional. I don't care."

He sighed again, B'Elanna was looking at him, but was saying nothing. He spoke slowly, forcing himself to be vulnerable, "When I'm around Gretchen I feel like my parents had another child after I left home, and one day someone dropped an orphan off at my bachelor pad…..I've never felt that way before…..like I had so much power to help someone…..like they needed me specifically. She loves me….."

"And I love her…." He finished, "I can't stop just because the two of you don't get along. I don't work like that."

"I know," said B'Elanna, rather softly, looking suddenly vulnerable herself, "Abandoning people really isn't on my top requirements for a husband."

"What?" said Tom, blinking suddenly.

B'Elanna looked at him, even though she could not see him, "Yeah," said B'Elanna, sighing, "I've decided I would have missed you if anything happened to you during the stasis…..that I'd regret not telling you the truth."

"What is the truth?" said Tom tentatively.

"That I want you to be my family," said B'Elanna, softer than he'd ever heard, "That I'm accepting your proposal, if you're still making it."

"Great," said Tom suddenly, putting one arm around B'Elanna and kissing her.

Finally they broke apart, and B'Elanna looked at him seriously, "As soon as those stupid implants are put in, we can get married."

"I don't want you thinking I'm marrying you because I think I need you or something," glared B'Elanna.

"I would never think that," said Tom, "But why don't we go ahead…well as soon as Harry recovers from his news….I didn't intend to get engaged today but….as soon as that passes, a few weeks maybe, we'll announce it and have the ceremony. It could be months on your eyes."

"Months? I'm giving the Doctor a week," hissed B'Elanna, "A week to get used to having the men back, breaking down the pods, doing physicals or whatever, and THEN HE'S GOING TO DO MY EYE SURGERY."

B'Elanna stomped her foot loudly and huffed, shoulders rigid as she glared again, at no one in particular.

"The Captain said you'd have to wait," said Tom, as persuasively as he could, "Until we find a second opinion. We're still pretty far from any important Klingon worlds, and who knows what time this little detour of my dad's is going to cost us. It could be months…or longer…..until we find a Klingon eye doctor."

"I am not going to wait that long," hissed B'Elanna dangerously, "Did you tell the Captain where she could shove her useless opinion on my health?"

"B'Elanna, I….." he took a gulp, and looked at her, very gently, stomach clenching, but spine rigid, "I agree with her. You can't risk never getting your full vision back. No implant in the universe can give you full range of vision. I looked into it and you'd never see vibrant colors again, soft textures, details. You can't sacrifice the future, the rest of your life, just to have it done and over now."

"So that's your real opinion?" she yelled at him, voice echoing down the corridor, "That what I want doesn't matter?"

"I just want you to wait," he yelled back, "Forgive me for not wanting them to pull the eyeballs out of my wife's head!"

"Forget about being your wife," she hissed angrily, turning around quickly on one heel and storming off down the corridor, stumbling into it for a moment before she cursed and continued.

Tom's heart hurt.

Gretchen was leaving her Quarters just in time to see B'Elanna stomp by in a huff, on her way to the turbolift.

The woman looked pained, and furious…and somehow just like her one of her daughters.

But L'Naal was dead...and Mary, even Miral who Gretchen had promised B'Elanna she'd never forget.

But she had.

Gretchen could no longer remember Miral's face, or her voice, or anything but the vague sense of a taller girl being in the room with her family. Her life had been taken when Gretchen was just a preschooler. Tom had destroyed his mind fighting for her memory.

And now she was forgotten.

What's the point of all this?

Gretchen shook her head and walked to meet Tom, who smiled at her when he saw her.

They found seats and she sat in the letter reading. Many people read their letters, happy stories, funny stories, news about the Alpha Quadrant. The sounds of it escaped her attention.

The faces in her memory flickered in and out.

Tom had forgiven her for Thomas' death.

But was what she wanted really forgiveness?

She felt cold.

Everything ached as she sat in her chair.

She saw nothing.

She didn't want any of this.

She wanted her crew.

Captain Janeway stood up and stretched in front of her desk, ready to call it a night. It was now midnight, and she had stayed in her Ready Room all evening, doing research on Asclepius from every angle possible.

Neelix had cheerfully delivered letters from her mother and sister four hours ago. She had glanced at them briefly, and then put them down and continued her research.

I can't believe I haven't read them, she thought as she put them in her pocket.

She could not decide if she would read them tonight or not. Even though she had had a nap that day, she was still tired, due to not sleeping the night before.

I should read them, she thought to herself as she left.

She took the turbolift in silence.

As the doors opened on her floor, she was startled to see a man's figure standing outside the lift, waiting.

She immediately recognized the man as Tom Paris.

"Hi Captain," he said nodding, with his normal cheerful tone, but it looked forced to Kathryn.

"Tom," she said, nodding back, automatically more awake and alert, "What are you doing here?"

"I was just dropping off Gretchen," he said, "The letter reading got out about 30 minutes ago."

The deck behind them looked completely dark and silent. While the Mess Hall was a decent jog away from the Captain's Quarters and had it's own turbolift, party sounds tended to echo down the hallway. Gretchen and Tom must have been the last ones to linger at the event.

"How is she?" asked Kathryn.

"Exhausted," said Tom, "And well, just sad," he said, looking off, "I'll try to cheer her up tomorrow, after she has a good night's sleep."

He smiled, rather genuinely, but again, something just looked off, to Kathryn.

"Tom," she said, grabbing his arm as he began to get on the turbolift, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

He sighed, "Nothing's wrong with me, Captain. Well, I mean everything. Just...it's been a long day."

He sighed again, turning around to look at her again, as he ran his hand stutteringly through his hair. He dropped the façade, and now looked exhausted, but if anything kinder, and friendlier, than he had.

"You've had a long day too, Captain," he said, looking at her knowingly, "Maybe we had both better go to bed."

His eyes looked red, and Kathryn shook her head firmly, "What's wrong, Tom?" she said quietly.

He looked at her bemused, and sighed again, but answered, "Just about everyone I love on this ship is having an awful time of it. And I can't do anything about it…B'Elanna's angry and frustrated about her eyes…..I told her what you said and she was furious…I'd fight for her…..but the thing is, I agree with you now, so I can't do anything either, but let her wait it out."

He continued sadly, "Gretchen you know about. And I can't do anything about that either, but watch her hurt. And Harry too….you…as I said, just about everyone I love on this ship is having a terrible time…..and I can't do anything about it."

Tom looked down unhappily, and the mask was completely off now, because he was scrunching his face, in an effort to not cry, "And on any other day I don't think it would have bothered me…..but right now…right now it bothers me…..that I didn't get a letter from my father."

He struggled with himself for a long moment, as Kathryn put a hand on his arm and waited, "He sent that message Captain. He sent Voyager that message so I know he's around…and he didn't even write me anything…not a word…..not a word for his only son."

He hit the wall suddenly, violently, and then lifted his hand to wipe away a real tear.

"I could die out here. Doesn't he know that? Doesn't he know I could die at any time? And he won't even bother to say hello. I'm his son. Doesn't that mean anything?"

Tom bit his lip, and suddenly looked, much much younger than he was.

Why didn't Owen write him? She thought quickly. He didn't answer my letter either.

"Tom," said Kathryn suddenly, trying to think of anything, "I don't know, I don't know that it makes sense but…Gretchen and I wrote your father, maybe he….."

"Maybe he didn't take it too well," she finished.

"Gretchen and you wrote him? About me?" asked Tom in surprise.

"Yes," said Kathryn, nodding, holding his gaze.

Please don't be mad at Gretchen, she just can't handle that right now.

"Gretchen, we both," said Kathryn, struggling for the words, and finally knowing she had to tell the full truth, "Gretchen was really, furiously mad at him for his last letter and how critical he was of you."

She clenched Tom's arm, "She was completely determined she had to defend you. It…Tom she was really almost unhinged about it. She loved you in her timeline so much, and she was so protective of you, because you weren't healthy for most of her childhood. I don't know if she told you but…..you lost your mind when she was a preschooler. She wanted so badly to stick up for you with your father…like she couldn't stick up for herself as a child."

"She was trying Tom," she said, holding his still teary gaze, "She was really trying. Maybe it didn't come out the right way, but she loves you."

"So we wrote your father when you were in stasis," Kathryn explained, "I wrote your father. I can't really see what problem he would have with it, all I did was tell him how valued you were on the ship…but we did send a picture Gretchen had of you and her, when she was a child."

"Really?" asked Tom, curious.

"Yes," said Kathryn, hesitating a moment. I suppose if we told Owen, I can tell Tom, "Of you two dancing together at a recital when Gretchen was 9. The jive."

Tom laughed, and blinked his eyes, "That's funny," he said suddenly, the tears falling down now, "You know," he said looking away, "Gretchen told me I had a son."

Should I tell him?

"You had four children, Tom."

Four children you'll never meet.

Tom looked at her suddenly, and then wrapped his arms around her, and sobbed.