It always started the same way. He would be coated in darkness, surrounded by an array of voices. They all said a variety of different things, all of it nothing but insane jargon to Ensign Harry Kim. Or more rather, Baby Kim. He truly was the most problematic of his peers, being too young to understand difficult concepts. Harry could see it in the captain's eyes. Janeway knew he had potential, he just had some learning to do.
She must have been very disappointed in him for what he did to that man. To all of those people trapped in the same place he was. The same place run by the psychotic manifestation of fear.
The Clown. Even after a week of being deactivated, never to traumatize anyone again, he still lived in the bowels of Harry's mind. He only had to endure the madman for a few hours. The strength of those aliens was undeniable, how they could last that long, Harry couldn't understand. For all he knew, they probably were in the same situation he was. Forever tormented by a being who had no power.
The next stage began as quickly as it usually did. A floodlight covered Harry in light, turning him into a beacon of the darkness. Then they would come.
All of the monsters that littered the alien program. Many of them reminded him of a circus freaks, an ancient Earth tradition that had been thankfully left in the past. The women were dressed in a variety of different dresses. Some fell to the ground, while others had trouble going past the thigh. The men were even worse. In some way that Harry couldn't put into words, they looked more manic. Dressing themselves in masks to hide their faces. Perhaps they were just as scared as he was, but were able to hide it better.
Harry Kim was sitting on a stool, wooden in nature, and somehow had the power to paralyze him. He was trapped in place with no restraints required.
"Oh, my little Harry." A playful voice called from in front of the Ensign. "It's a joy to see you come back."
Even though he couldn't move, Harry could feel his eyes widen. Tears immediately forming underneath his eyelids. Why couldn't he wake up before this? Why did the Clown have to keep going?
A figure dance-walked into the light in front of Harry. His clothes were a shade of blueish-gray that looked fitting for a clown. The make-up on his face was simple, but only brought back the horrible memories. The memories of his failure.
"You're funny, Harry. That's why you've always been my favorite." The Clown sat on Harry's lap like a child asking Santa Claus for a gift. "Your ignorance is almost adorable. You really do believe in yourself, don't ya?"
Harry didn't answer, mostly because he didn't have the ability to. He responded with a slow blink, doing his best to keep the Clown out of sight.
"You're so confident that I'm gone, aren't you? But your Captain was right about one thing, I am Fear. Every species is afraid of something, its funny, isn't it?"
Harry could feel his sleeping self sweating bullets. The pillow was nothing more than a sopping mess. His dream interpreted that as him trembling with fear.
With a swift motion, the Clown threw his arm to his side, as if to present something. And present something, he did. Sometimes it was something Harry had seen before while in the simulation. Other times, the Clown loved to show other fears that had grown like a fungus in Harry's subconscious. This time was different. Another floodlight lit up the area in front of the unlikely duo. It showed two Harry's dressed exactly the same. In fact, they were exactly the same.
"You know you don't belong, Harry. Even more than your other self. It's funny how the universe works to your advantage sometimes."
Oh god. He had tried to keep that away from the Clown, but of course, he was savvy like that. Stardate 49548.7, a day that changed Harry's life forever. His Captain Janeway, his Doctor, his Tom Paris, all gone in an instant. Yes, they were all around him, talking to him like the old friend they all knew. Harry Kim knew better. There were small differences that bothered him, like the way Tom liked to scratch his cheek whenever he would think of Kes. His Tom Paris had the tendency to scratch his left cheek, but this other Paris scratched his right cheek. Or perhaps more egregious, Neelix's cooking was slightly better than normal. It was so minor, but the difference was there.
"You're always going to be alone, Harry. They don't care about you like I do. At least I know you better, don't I? Isn't that what you want, Harry? To be understood?"
With his remaining strength, Harry turned to the Clown, doing his best to hold back the tears of fear from flowing. "Not...From...You!"
The Clown gasped and clutched his chest, like he was suffering from a heart attack. "Baby Kim's first words! It's a miracle, isn't it?!" Standing up from Harry's lap, the Clown started dancing in circles, gesturing for his gang of insanity to join in. They all participated, as happy as imaginary figures could be.
Harry felt the slightest movement in his fingers. Looking down, he noticed his pointer finger on his left hand moving up and down. This was it, his way out. Eventually, his middle finger moved, then his ring finger, then his pinky. Within a moment, he was able to break his hand free. It didn't take long for the Clown to take notice.
"Escape isn't possible, Harry. How can you truly escape from Fear?"
As the young Ensign tried to break his other hand free, another figure walked into the light. He recognized the man instantly. It was the alien he failed to free from the simulation, the very same who was decapitated by the Clown.
"I tried to help you. We wanted to be free, but you could only think about yourself. No wonder your crew doesn't want anything to do with you."
"No." Harry mumbled. "I never wanted that."
"Go ahead. Keep telling yourself that. It should've been you on that guillotine."
Harry turned away from the alien, breaking his right arm free from the invisible restraint. The circus freaks began to laugh, the Clown and the alien following suit. Their laughter grew in volume, soon becoming unbearable to Harry's ears.
"STOP!" Harry yelled.
…
Harry Kim jolted up, his face drenched in sweat and tears. Breathing in and out, he did his best to try and calm himself down. His heart was beating extremely quickly. So much so that Harry felt like his end was drawing near. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. At least the nightmare would go away for good. Using his blanket, Harry wiped his face.
"Computer, lower the temperature by 5 degrees celcius." He choked out, feeling the sputum trapped in his throat.
His vocal cords felt strained, like he had been screaming for hours on end. His neighbors were aware of his nightmares, it was kind of hard to hide. Tom, Neelix, even Captain Janeway all visited him asking if he was doing alright. He would always respond in the affirmative, nothing was wrong on the outside. Internally, all Harry could notice were the differences.
There were so many differences.
"Lights, maximum illumination."
As soon as he finished his request, the lights turned on, expelling the darkness from his sight. Harry realized his mistake as soon as he the lights came on.
The differences.
His dresser that was a few inches the left instead of where it was supposed to be. The replicator was on the wrong side of the room. His bed's fabric felt much different, less smooth and more rough. He felt insane, like he was acutely aware. He knew the truth and everyone else tried to ignore it.
Shaking his head, Harry stood up and walked into the restroom. More differences. The sonic shower was opposite the door rather than against the wall. The toilet's circumference was more of an oval than a circle. He had the power to change it if he wanted to, but deep down, he couldn't. This room used to belong to his other self. They may have been the same person, but Harry still perished in the line of duty. It felt wrong to move a man's things after he died. Even if it was him.
Harry looked at himself in the mirror. The shell of a man that looked back scared him. He didn't know how long he could keep up with the nightmares. The way that the Clown continued to haunt him even though he had been stopped. The Clown was right about one thing though, he wouldn't truly go away. As long as Fear continued to exist, he would be there. All Harry could do was get over it.
But that wasn't easy. No one truly understood what it felt like to be a stranger to your own crew.
A quiet chirp broke Harry from his thoughts.
"Ensign Kim. This is the Doctor, please respond."
Even the Doctor had gotten used to his nightmares, Harry frowned at the feeling of embarrassment. Walking back to his bed, Harry picked up his com-badge sitting on the nightstand.
"Got it, Doc."
"I hope I haven't woken you. Are you still suffering from night terrors?" Even the voice of the Doctor sounded less narcissistic than his alternate counterpart.
Harry debated the answer, but spoke the truth. "Yes."
"If you stop by sick-bay, I can prescribe you a stimulant if you'd like."
Harry almost said yes, but that would only prove the Clown's point. He would be taking the easy way out, leaving room for the Clown to continue to torment him. The only way out was to embrace Fear. To do what Captain Janeway did to put an end to his reign of terror.
"No thanks, Doc. I appreciate the sentiment. Good night."
"Goodnight, Mr. Kim. Don't hesitate to call if you change your mind."
And with that, Harry tossed his com-badge back onto the nightstand. Getting back into bed, Harry stared up at the ceiling. He still had a few hours before his shift began. There was no reason to not try and get some sleep.
It would help get his mind off everything. If he did see the Clown again, he knew what to do. And with that, he closed his eyes, quickly drifting off to sleep. The hum of the ship at warp helped ease his mind. But somehow, even that sounded different.