ANGEL
By Morticia
Part 11-14
Disclaimers see Part 1
TOM
Have you ever felt like your world has ended? Like you are teetering on the edge of a huge black cliff looking down into a bottomless pit and know that if you fall there will never be a way to survive. Yet the pit is actually inside of you, so there's no escape.
It's over.
He doesn't love me.
He never did.
I want to die.
CHAKOTAY
I don't know how it went so badly wrong. I keep replaying the last evening over and over in my head, examining my actions. Trying to figure out where I could have saved us.
If I could have saved us.
How could I have been so stupid?
I know that it's my own fault, that I have hurt Tom beyond any hope of forgiveness.
That even in the unlikely event that he still loves me, he will never risk letting me near him again.
TOM
It was my fault. I know that. I should have just left it alone. Let him take things at his own pace instead of making it come to a head.
We could have kept on going as we were. I could have preserved my illusion of happiness. But no, I had to demand more.
Typical, fucking typical.
You see, I couldn't let go of my doubts and insecurities. I had to push him into losing control. I had to make him prove he loved me.
I couldn't keep pouring my heart and soul into this relationship without knowing whether he really gave a damn.
And guess what?
Big surprise.
He didn't.
CHAKOTAY
I was so blind, so stupid to give in to Tom's request in the mood I was in. When I came home that night and simply found him waiting, it should have been enough for me.
I had spent the whole lonely day staring at the back of Bateheart's head, violently aware of the incongruity of the sight. As appalled at black hair in place of red-gold as I would have been by Neelix setting up a kitchen on the bridge.
Tom's absence just wasn't right. I found myself wrong-footed all day. I kept looking up for Tom and not finding him where he belonged. Just simply missing him. Longing to touch him and see that sunny smile light up just for me.
By the time I left the bridge I had almost decided to put aside my qualms and fuck Tom 'til he was senseless. Just the thought of him made my cock struggle impatiently inside my tight uniform. By the time I reached our quarters I was so hot with need that I just burst through the door.
I admit that for an imperceptible moment I hesitated, as I registered with disquiet that he was still the only anomalous item in my quarters. That there was still no other mark of his existence to demonstrate his acceptance of us as a couple.
But then seeing him, standing there in his favourite reproduction of 20th century clothes, a loose white T-shirt and blue jeans, with that beautiful smile on his face, I put my doubts from my mind and sprang forward to seize him in a long, passionate embrace.
I felt him stiffen in my arms as normal, but instead of letting it stop me this time I sank to my knees in front of him and ripped open the buttons on his jeans. When his eager cock sprang out, its pale skin stretched and flushed almost purple with the engorgement of desire, I swallowed it in one rush like a starving man at a feast.
I had to support Tom with my hands on his firm buttocks as he began to shake and tremble with need. Lovingly I licked and sucked while his hands clenched my short hair and his moans grew louder and more desperate.
It didn't take long before he came in my mouth and I swallowed his seed with relish. Licking every last succulent drop from my lips to show him how much I loved him.
When I heard Tom say, "Fuck me" it was impossible to refuse. While he was still stunned and reeling from his orgasm, I took him to the bedroom.
That was my real mistake.
TOM
I knew something was wrong the moment Chakotay stepped through the door. A strange annoyed look flashed across his face and I noticed his eyes darting around the room suspiciously.
The welcoming smile began to slide of my own face as I found myself looking frantically for whatever article I had forgotten to put away.
But before I completely dissolved into panic, Chakotay's frown was replaced with a broad smile and he jumped forwards so quickly that I barely had time to register his movement before his tongue forced itself between my lips, plundering my mouth with its hot sweetness.
I felt my knees beginning to give way in a combination of relief and desire; I stiffened to brace myself for the wonderful onslaught.
Immediately, I felt him begin to pull away from me and I nearly screamed with frustration, only to instead gasp with shocked understanding as he gracefully dropped to the floor at my feet.
I can't describe the bewildered joy that besieged me as he began to frantically rummage in the fastenings of my jeans, as though he was digging for buried treasure. I was simply overwhelmed by the unbelievably erotic vision of his dark head nosing expectantly at my crotch.
Just the sight was enough to make my cock batter its own way out to a brief freedom before it was immediately devoured whole into the hot wet depths of Chakotay's hungry mouth.
Chakotay's velvet lips slid slowly up my shaft even as his tongue teased its weeping slit with furious licks.
I felt my knees buckle again but his strong hands snaked around me and firmly grabbed my butt. I leaned back trustingly, letting him support my weight as I gave in to the sensations he was creating in my groin.
I could feel the suction of Chakotay's powerful muscles as he devoured me.
"Oh god, oh god, don't stop" I pleaded and unbelievably he took me even deeper inside him until I came with a scream and he swallowed until I could almost feel myself turned inside out.
As he pulled his head away, his tongue lazily licking the corners of his mouth, I collapsed in a boneless heap in front of him and leant my head on his shoulder as I shuddered to catch my breath.
"Fuck me" I begged.
That was my mistake, although I didn't realise it at the time.
That's when I set the events in motion that destroyed us.
But as he silently raised me to my feet and led me to the bedroom, I was so ecstatic with his capitulation that I never dreamt that it could go so wrong.
CHAKOTAY
Tom stripped quickly and jumped to lie on the bed. His enthusiasm was contagious so I made short work of removing my uniform and joining him. I was so hard by then that it was impossible to stop.
I climbed on top and straddled him as he lay there panting, flushed with desire. As I kneeled over his belly, my cock met the bobbing head of his own.
I couldn't believe that he was ready again so soon. The advantages of youth, I guess.
"Fuck me Chakotay" he pleaded again and I drowned in his blue eyes.
His right hand came up and thrust a tube of lube at me, and even as I wondered where the hell he'd hidden it, I found myself unscrewing the top and preparing myself for him.
When I tried to turn him over he refused, saying he wanted to watch me do it, so I hiked his knees up over my shoulders, grasped his wrists firmly and concentrated on the brown puckered opening that was suddenly so accessible.
Perhaps I was a little rough when I grabbed him, but spirits, if you could have heard the way he was moaning with eagerness! I was so careful, so controlled as I prepared him. I was so determined to take it slowly and lovingly.
But as I entered him, his hips jerked and his own movement impaled him. He screamed and to my shame, I lost control completely at the sound, thrusting into him like I wanted to assimilate his body into mine.
On and on I pounded into him, with fast furious strokes as I gasped in time with his own whimpers and moans. The perspiration was running down my forehead, blinding me as I reached my climax and my own shout deafened my ears to his cries.
That is my only excuse. I didn't see. I didn't hear. I didn't know.
It was only after I had collapsed on him and rubbed the sweat from my eyes that I looked down at Tom's face and saw the tears flooding from his eyes.
If I had had a knife I would have stabbed myself in the heart then and there.
I had unforgivably hurt Tom; I had pinned him helplessly to the bed and assaulted him just to satisfy my own selfish needs. I had taken my pleasure as he screamed and cried beneath me.
I had hurt this precious man who I had sworn to protect.
I felt my whole body stiffen with cold terror as I waited for his condemnation.
TOM
I was delirious as I ripped of my clothes and threw myself on the bed. I recognised the look in Chakotay's eyes although I had never seen it there before. It was true, blinding, red-hot passion.
Even as he tore off his clothes I grabbed the lube I had hidden earlier under the pillow in desperate hope.
He was finally out of control. For the first time in days I was truly convinced of his love for me. Usually he was so considerate, so controlled that I couldn't really believe his feelings for me were real. But this was different. This would be no gentle 'making-love' as though I was too fragile for true emotion; it was finally going to be the real thing!
When I pleaded with him to take me on my back, so that I could see his face, see him ravish me and he agreed, by the simple act of roughly throwing my legs over his shoulders, I was euphoric.
For a moment I was frustrated as he made a visible effort to control himself as he entered me, so I thrust my hips up and forced him inside. I screamed with triumph as I felt him fill me. He must have realised my need because for the first time ever he truly let himself go, left the "Commander" discarded on the floor with his uniform and revealed the animal passion within him.
I can't begin to describe how wonderful it was. How my whole body was almost ripped apart by his powerful thrusts. You cannot believe the bliss of knowing in that moment that I was the vessel of Chakotay's happiness. As though my whole life had brought me to this moment just so that I could be the instrument of his release.
For those few minutes, as Chakotay lost himself in me, I forgot that I was Tom Paris fuck-up and failure and I ascended to become the alter on which Chakotay sacrificed his control and became mortal.
Became mine.
As he collapsed on top of me, his passion spent, his body heaving from exertion, I felt the years of rejection fall away from me and tears of happiness flooded my face.
For a timeless moment I believed that he really loved me.
So when he finally raised his head and looked at me I was surprised by his strange remote expression. Instead of the love I expected his face was full of pain and sorrow and loss.
I felt a cold hand clutch at my heart. I had just shared the most fantastic, intimate experience of my life with this man. Had given him everything I could give.
But he looked at me with the eyes of a stranger.
Nervously, I tried to smile but somehow I knew the expression came out wrong. So just trying desperately to break the tension I joked:
"How was it for you?"
CHAKOTAY
"How was it for you?"
The sarcastic words combined with the mocking smile broke my heart.
But I suppose it was less than I deserved, less than the scornful accusations I had expected.
He hated me and it was my own fault.
What good would it do to beg for forgiveness that I knew he wouldn't be able to give?
All I could do now was let him leave with as much dignity as possible.
"I notice you've been careful to hide your belongings," I said, my voice brittle with the strain of keeping in my tears.
He blinked at my tone and then carefully replied "I didn't want my presence to be conspicuous."
That's when my anger got the better of my guilt. When I realised that he had never had any intention of staying anyway. That he hadn't wanted anyone to know about the relationship because it wasn't permanent.
"So since no one knows, it won't be a problem for you to move back to your own quarters."
Tom's face was frozen with hate for a long moment and then he snapped viciously:
"No problem at all."
He left so quickly, so quietly, that I could only sit helplessly and watch him go.
TOM
I didn't understand what was going on. I couldn't imagine what I had done to upset him this time.
When he finally answered my joke I was completely floored by the weirdness of his reply.
"I notice you've been careful to hide your belongings"
I think I just blinked, as confused by his words as by the chilly tone of his voice. I remembered the annoyed look on his face when he entered his quarters and wondered what it was I had left on show to upset him.
Bewildered and unsure of what to apologise for, I just replied "I didn't want my presence to be conspicuous"
His next words were so unexpected, so hurtful, that I can hardly bear to remember them.
"So since no one knows, it won't be a problem for you to move back to your own quarters"
And that's when I realised. That's when I finally understood.
He had never loved me at all.
For some sick reason he had gone along with me. Maybe out of pity because I had thrown myself at him so hard, for so long. That explained why he rarely wanted sex with me. I was just a mercy fuck, after all.
If I had maintained the status quo we might have been able to carry on but I had pushed him into a situation where he had forgotten who he was with. I had made him forget for a moment that it was me in front of him not his beloved Angel.
Now he couldn't even bear to look at me anymore.
How could I have been so fucking arrogant as to think someone like Chakotay could fall in love with me? I must have been an embarrassment to him. Like a schoolboy with a crush. He had tried to make me happy but had finally tired of the pretence.
Somehow I had to pull some shred of dignity around myself, had to pretend I could be an adult about this.
My face was frozen with the horror of rejection but I managed to say
"No problem".
I quickly got dressed and grabbed my things. I didn't dare speak for fear I would beg him for another chance. I didn't look at him because I couldn't bear to see his pity or scorn.
I just ran.
KATHRYN
I just knew that the relationship with Chakotay and Tom would end in tears and unfortunately I seem to have been right. The only good note is that they are "keeping it off the bridge". The bitterness and backbiting that I had anticipated has not materialised.
Although they can evidently not bear to look at each other and their words are short and formal when they are forced to converse during the course of their duties, there seems no animosity at all.
Strangely, it would be better if there was. I have two zombies on my senior staff. They are both like walking wounded. I could cry simply at the amount of pain that visibly pours off them both. It is though they are both in mourning.
As though someone they love has died.
They don't smile or laugh or even talk if they can avoid it. They both do their duties, eat their meals alone and disappear back to their quarters until the next duty shift.
I have an urge to knock their heads together.
But since that is beneath the dignity of a ship's Captain I have instead decided to give them a break from each other in the hope that a little distance will give them perspective.
I don't know what has gone wrong but is obvious to anyone who knows them that they love each other. If it wasn't true how could they both be affected so badly by their break-up?
I am sending Tom out on the Delta Flyer tomorrow to collect data on an interesting nebula that we passed yesterday. Well, if it had been truly interesting we wouldn't have just passed it by, but still, it gives me a way to get him off the ship for a couple of days.
In the meantime I will ask B'Elanna to try and get Chakotay to tell her what the hell is going on.
~~~
Tom left Voyager on route for the nebula this morning and we are planning to rendezvous with him in two days.
I hope that the idea of being alone and flying the shuttle he loves so much will at least put a dent in his obvious depression.
As for Chakotay, I have asked him to take the next couple of days off the bridge and catch up with his crew reports instead.
He argued with my decision, obviously feeling embarrassed that I do not consider him fit for bridge duty. I am possibly not helping him with this ruling. It is possible that the last thing he needs right now is time to dwell on his problems.
But I have a whole ship to consider. I cannot allow my personal feelings to interfere with my decisions. The safety of Voyager cannot be left in the hands of a First Officer who is like the living dead at the moment. Twice yesterday I had to repeat my orders to him because he was too distracted to pay attention to his duty. I cannot continue like this, it is undermining the efficiency of the bridge.
He will have to take the time to face his problems and deal with them. We do not have the luxury of self-indulgence out here.
But even knowing I am right, I still feel guilty for pushing him. I hope that our friendship will survive my rough handling of him at this sensitive time.
I can only hope that B’Elanna will help him to put his feelings in perspective.
CHAKOTAY
It is strange how empty my quarters feel without Tom. Although there was never a single item of his on display to declare his presence, now he is gone he haunts me. I hear his soft laughter echoing in the corners of the room; memories of his soft moans of passion reverberate deafeningly in the silence.
As I sit on the couch, imagining the feel of his soft hair under my fingers, I am constantly startled by his presence. From the corners of my eyes I catch glimpses of his quick smile and golden head but when I turn in desperate hope, there is no one there.
It’s crazy, I know. He’s been gone for almost two days and even if he was on Voyager rather than in the Delta Flyer, I know that he would no more set foot in here now than walk onto the bridge naked.
Although, with Tom, that’s not a certainty.
The thought makes me laugh even as I stifle a sob for what I have so carelessly thrown away.
If only I had talked to him.
Really talked to him.
B’Elanna came to see me today. She admitted that Kathryn had sent her but that she was there as my friend anyway. She is the only person I trust enough to tell the truth to. I told her about Tom’s refusal to commit himself to the relationship. She was stunned. Not by what I told her but by my interpretation of the events.
I wonder whether she is right? Maybe I was blind.
Perhaps Tom was truly only trying to fit seamlessly into my life. To mould himself so invisibly that I would never find him a burden.
Why have I always seen other people clearly but always assumed the worst of Tom?
Why did I judge his actions without even questioning them?
I even told B’Elanna what I’d done to Tom and as I ducked my head in shame and waited for her scathing condemnation, I was stunned instead by her laughter.
She laughed. She actually laughed and said she couldn’t imagine anybody being able to rape Tom Paris without a phaser rifle and a small army. That if he had lain there and taken it without complaint then he must have enjoyed it as much as I did.
"But he cried," I argued
"Haven’t you ever cried because you were happy?" she replied.
I had no answer. I still don’t. Because if she’s right, then I have harmed Tom even more than I imagined. I have hurt him beyond bearing. I turned my back on him at the very moment when he was crying with happiness. I made him love me and then threw him away like used rubbish.
The very thought of it is enough to make me ill.
KATHRYN
I was actually tapping my Comm-badge before I realised that this was not news that I could deliver over a Comm-link.
B’Elanna told me as much as she could without betraying Chakotay’s confidence and I know that whatever has gone on between him and Tom, that his love for my pilot is real.
How could I do any less than break the news in person?
That Tom has met with an accident in the nebula.
That the Delta Flyer encountered a quasar and was crushed like paper by the magnetic forces of the minute black hole.
That we barely arrived in time to beam his smashed body out of the wreck of the Delta Flyer before it was sucked into oblivion.
That his spine is shattered beyond repair and he is in a coma in Sickbay and the Doctor says that the probability of him surviving is negligible.
That I am simply giving Chakotay the chance to say goodbye?
CHAKOTAY
When Kathryn told me the news, I did not even wait to acknowledge her words, I tore myself from her even as she tried to comfort me and fled my quarters at full pelt, running to Sickbay as though my presence alone would keep death at bay.
Even as I ran I knew I could have requested a site-to-site transfer but the burning anguish in me demanded action and the only way I could give rein to my emotion was to pound through the corridors, scattering startled crewmembers like dross in my wake.
It couldn't be true, I was screaming at myself, Not Tom, not my Tom.
The complete futility of my efforts was brought home as I burst into sickbay and found the Captain already there, no doubt warning the Doctor of my imminent arrival. She met my eyes with pity, rather than scorn at my foolishness, but as I moved forwards to the bio-bed she placed her tiny frame in front of me, planting her feet firmly as she grabbed my arms. I saw tears in her eyes as she pleaded with me to calm down.
"Please Chakotay, please. Wait a moment and listen to me. You don't want to see him like this. Believe me. It's better if you remember him as he was. Let the Doctor clean him up a little first, don't..."
I regarded her as though she was a particularly vile insect. Was she MAD? Did she honestly think that I would keep away from Tom for even another second? Did she believe my love for Tom was not strong enough to survive his mutilation?
With complete disrespect for her concern and rank, I physically picked her up, thrust her out of my way and charged for Tom's side.
That's when I saw him.
Saw the twisted, broken, tangle of flesh and bone that had once been Tom Paris.
He was an abomination. There was no part of him that was recognisable. Even the proud cheekbones of his face had been shattered by pressure leaving a bloody swollen pulp of torn bruised skin. Even with the technological wizardry that held him in stasis, it was impossible that he was still breathing.
As my body impacted against the force field that cushioned him from infection, I collapsed to my knees and howled my lament.
KATHRYN
I had made a terrible mistake. I should have ordered a communications blackout, given the Doctor time to at least make some cosmetic repairs, before I told Chakotay the awful news. My only excuse is that although I knew he loved Tom, I had no understanding of just how intense his feelings were.
As soon as he began his panicked, precipitous run from his quarters I realised my colossal error and transported immediately to the Sickbay.
As Chakotay burst through the doors, lunatic with grief, I tried to hold him back, hoping desperately that his innate respect for me as his Captain would give me a chance to stop his wild progress.
But he simply threw me aside like a rag doll and charged to Tom's side where he finally collapsed on his knees and hugging his arms to his chest began to rock in anguish. His howls of desolation echoed through the Sickbay, their heart-rending torment making my hair stand on end.
Swiftly the Doctor stepped forwards with a hypospray and my jangling nerves were soothed by the abrupt silence as Chakotay slumped to the floor unconscious.
We had no choice. The sedative that the Doctor administered will keep Chakotay under for some hours. During that time the Doctor can try to at least make Tom physically resemble a human being again.
But what if he dies before Chakotay wakes?
What if I have stolen Chakotay's chance to say goodbye, to say sorry?
Will the sight of a beautiful corpse be worth his unending remorse? Will he ever forgive me for stealing his last chance to make amends?
So perhaps it was my own selfishness that made me pray desperately to the tortured body that was once my irrepressible pilot and beg
"Hold on, Tom. Please hold on. Don't die yet. Please don't die before Chakotay wakes up!"
CHAKOTAY
I should have been furious when I woke but instead I felt curiously detached and calm. It could have simply been the weight of grief that constrained me but I suspect that there was some chemical assistance in there too.
Although Kathryn and the Doctor watched me warily, they made no protest as I swung my legs off the bed they had placed me on and stood up. I swayed a little with dizziness for a moment before I found my balance and turned to look at Tom. Even from where I was standing I could see the control lights of the bio-bed flickering.
He was still alive!
I walked forwards, slowly and cautiously this time, until I could see under the hood.
It was Tom. Still battered and bruised but unmistakably him this time. The bones of his skull had been knitted together to support his face. The swollen flesh had reduced somewhat and the black bruises were faded to greenish-yellow.
"How long?" I rasped
"Eight hours" Kathryn replied softly, coming forwards to stroke my shoulder in sympathy. "When we realised that the artificial lungs were working I decided to keep you asleep until the Doctor had a chance to repair some of the damage."
"You said that he couldn't survive, that he would die!" I accused bitterly
"He did," the Doctor answered. "His heart has stopped five times. Fortunately I am programmed with numerous techniques for resuscitation."
For a moment I was tempted to strike him for his smug pride, as though Tom's accident was no more than a new opportunity to him to show off but his next words were more humble.
"Of course, it is only Mr. Paris's own will that make my efforts possible. He is showing an exceptional desire to survive."
"Will he?" I begged hopefully
"Possibly, although I am doubtful. I believe that if he regains consciousness and becomes aware of his situation, the shock will be too much for him and he will cease to fight. If he does not want to survive there will be very little I can do."
"Why the hell wouldn't he want to live?" I screamed in disbelief.
It was Kathryn who finally answered. Tiny Kathryn whose heart is as big and brave as a lion.
Who else would have stood in front of my raging torrent and spoken the words that ripped my hope apart?
"Tom's spine is completely shattered. Although the Doctor can knit the bones together there is no way to repair his spinal cord. If we were back home there would be a chance to heal him but there simply isn't the technology on a ship this size. We were never supposed to be more than a couple of days from real hospitals so we were only equipped with basic trauma equipment.
"If Tom survives he will be paraplegic, unable to do much more than move his eyes. He will be unable to breathe without the artificial lungs. He will spend the rest of our journey in sickbay. If we never get home he will grow old and die in that bed.
"I don't believe that the slim hope of returning to the Alpha Quadrant will be enough for him to accept those conditions, Chakotay. I think he would prefer it if we let him die now. He may find life like this intolerable and simply give up."
No, I couldn't accept her reasonable words. I wouldn't accept them.
"Then he'll have to learn to cope, won't he," I snarled "Because he is going to live whether he wants to or not. Even if we don't get home there is a whole quadrant of civilisations out here. Somewhere we will find someone who can cure him!"
Kathryn sighed at my refusal to face the truth.
"And in the meantime he just lies there like a corpse, trapped in his own head? Do you honestly believe that Tom will be able to live like that?"
I grasped furiously for a solution, for hope.
"Why can't we transfer his mind to a holo-emitter. The Doctor has done it before. He can live outside his body until it is better."
"The pattern will degrade if it is active for too long. He will only be able to emerge briefly and then will have to return to his body. It will be like being in prison again for him, let out for short bursts of freedom before being caged, growing always more aware of the horror of his captivity. He will go insane."
"I won't let him," I replied fiercely. "I will make him want to live. I will keep him alive until we find a cure."
But even I wonder whether I am simply refusing to face reality.
Will Tom forgive me and accept my love as an anchor to cling onto through this nightmare or will he simply see my love as pity?
Does he hate me too much to live?
TOM
The first couple of weeks are still a blur. I spent most of the time either unconscious or sedated against unimaginable pain. It was not until the third week that I regained enough cognition to remember who I was and what had happened to me.
The death of the Delta Flyer and the agony of being crushed inside her kept playing over and over in my head like a bad holo-vid. I kept questioning my actions, my choices, my options, desperately trying to figure out what I could have done differently.
I worried constantly that the Captain would be really pissed off with me for destroying the best of the few remaining shuttles.
I was vaguely aware of the Doctor's face hovering over me that week, telling me I had been seriously hurt as if it would come as some fucking big surprise to me. Didn't the idiot realise I was there when it happened? Of course I knew I'd been hurt. The only surprise to me was that I wasn't dead!
I figured that it was really bad because I was being kept so doped up that I couldn't feel the pain anymore. In fact, I couldn't feel anything at all from my neck down.
Time was difficult to judge in that limbo state but I guess it was a couple of days later when I truly woke up. When I finally realised that something was badly wrong. You see I finally figured that if I was so bloody doped that I couldn't feel the pain, then I shouldn't be so aware of what was going on around me.
There was this constant stream of visitors, Harry, B'Elanna, the Captain, even Tuvok and all the time Chakotay hovered somewhere in the background like he had grown roots in Sickbay for the duration.
I wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone. To take his sympathy and stuff it up his own ass. But I couldn't because although I moved my mouth to speak, no voice emerged. I couldn't pull the words up from my throat.
That's when I finally began to get scared.
But not really scared, I mean it's the 24th century, if you don't die you get better, don't you? No one even bears scars anymore as long as they get treatment quickly enough and since I was alive, Voyager must have found me within minutes of the implosion. So there was no reason to suppose I would even show a scratch by the time the Doctor had finished with me.
So I figured that the Doc was milking it. Taking his time over repairing me so that he would be greeted with rapturous adulation when he finally presented me back to the Captain in one piece. I dwelt on this possibility for a few more days, torn between annoyance at my incarceration and admiration of his devious plot.
I even decided that my inability to speak was part of his Machiavellian plot. He'd wanted to gag me for years. Perhaps these thoughts were a subconscious device to prevent the panic building in me. They certainly worked for a time, but by the fourth week I was beginning to go insane.
I think my desperation was beginning to show in my eyes because finally someone decided to let me know what was going on. It was Chakotay, of course, back in his "let's pretend to give a damn about Tom" persona, who broke the news to me.
My first instinct was to laugh, except I was physically incapable, but I really thought it was some kind of sick joke. You see no one is paralyzed these days. Like I said before, as long as you don't actually die they can always fix you, and sometimes even if you do die they can still fix you.
So I simply chose not to believe him. I didn't know what fucking mind-game he was trying to play with me this time but I wasn't going to fall for it.
But as the days crept past and I stared unendingly at the ceiling, unable to move even a micron, I finally had to accept that it was true.
It's odd really. As I set off in the Delta Flyer I remember wishing I could die. I thought the pain of Chakotay's rejection was more than I could bear. But I know now for certain that I didn't really want to end my life at that point, that it was just a dramatic exaggeration. I'm positive, because it is only now that I finally realise how it truly feels to want to die. To know with every fibre of my being that there is absolutely no point in living one more second.
Why didn't the sadistic bastards just let me die?
~~~
St. Chakotay of the Bleeding Heart has explained that they are going to transfer my consciousness temporarily to a holo-matrix so that I can finally get a chance to 'discuss' my situation.
It has been six weeks now since the accident and I am crawling around inside my own skull like a demented spider. For six fucking weeks I have stared at the bloody ceiling and listened to Chakotay drone on about how sorry he is and how much he loves me.
Yeah, sure.
I can't wait for tomorrow. The chance to finally speak, move, see. And if they leave me alone just for a moment, the chance to smash this fucking bio-bed and finally escape this hell I'm trapped in.
~~~
They say 'you never appreciate what you have until you lose it'. That's certainly true about my body. I never once in my life considered how lucky I was to be healthy and mobile.
Similarly they also say 'if you haven't experienced it you don't miss it' and in a strange way that was how I felt when I woke in the 'body' of a hologram.
Don't misunderstand me. I had done nothing for the last two weeks but plan ways of disconnecting myself from the life support. But it wasn't until the moment that I found myself standing, looking down at my own smashed body from my newfound freedom, that I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I could not bear to be imprisoned in it for even one more day.
Completely speechless with the enormity of the horror my life had become I looked around at the faces surrounding me. The Captain, the Doctor, Tuvok, Harry and B'Elanna. All of them regarding my dazed look with grief and pity.
Oh and Chakotay of course, as if he'd miss the opportunity to act like he gave a damn.
Before the moment of my materialization I had imagined I would run around wildly with excitement, reveling in movement, shouting out a torrent as six weeks worth of words came spilling out of my mouth. But instead I just stood there, as motionless and silent as my corpse. Because that was all my real body was, a corpse. Remove the tubes and machines and I was dead.
"Tom?" The captain asked softly, obviously surprised by my lack of animation, "Are you alright?"
All right? Am I all right? I'm a fucking hologram. My body is a fucked up piece of garbage that will never move again and she wants to know if I'm all right?
And I began to laugh, really laugh until holographic tears were running down my face.
The captain stepped forwards hesitantly to touch my pretend arm in a gentle caress,
"Please Tom, try to hold on, we're doing everything we can. We've sent messages out on all sub-space bandwidths to ask for medical assistance."
"The Captain's right, Tom," Harry chipped in. "And if we can't find help here we'll get home and you'll be cured. Just don't give up!"
B'Elanna spoke up next "I'm working on the holo-emitters, creating a stable environment for your matrix. Soon you'll be able to spend at least a couple of hours a day on the holodec without the risk of neural damage." And she gave me a wide pleased smile.
I looked at her in disbelief. What did she expect? A fucking standing ovation? I would soon only spend 22 hours out of every day trapped in a corpse and that was supposed to make me feel better?
"We aren't going to give up on you, Tom," Chakotay promised, and I felt my shock and hysteria transform into rage.
How dare he say that? He of all people. The man I had loved more than life itself. The man who had taken me, used me and thrown me away as unworthy even before I became a member of the living dead.
Finally in finding my anger, I found my voice:
"Why didn't you just let me die?" I screamed at them all and I was oddly pleased to see them blanch at my words.
"What gave you the right to play God? Look at me!" I ran to the bio-bed and stared in horror at my own pallid face "I'm dead. Can't you fucking see that? "
Desperately I began to switch the life-support machines off, only to be grabbed by Chakotay's strong arms before I could do any real damage and I was dragged back to the other side of Sickbay.
"Noooooooooooooooo!" I screamed in desperation and then realising the complete futility of my pleas, I sagged in Chakotay's arms.
"Tom, can't we try and discuss this?" Chakotay whispered in my ear and I shivered with my memories of how that soft tone had fooled me into complacency before.
As I struggled between the urge to escape him and the terrifying knowledge that the only place I could run to was the motionless cadaver of Tom Paris, I had to bite back my scream of terror. I closed my eyes and prayed for the strength not to reveal the quivering wreck I was becoming.
That's when St. Chakotay just had to speak up again in that sickening honey-toned voice of concern:
"Is there anything else I can do for you, Tom? Anything that will make the waiting more bearable?"
And I finally lost it, I just snapped. The weeks of hurt and anger erupted into one damning sentence.
"Yes, Commander, you can stay the fuck away from me!" I yelled.
As Chakotay reeled in shock at my words I turned to the Captain, just so that there was no doubt at all of my wishes in this matter.
"I don't want him in Sickbay. I don't want him hovering over me like a fucking vulture. I want him to leave me the hell alone!"
And before anyone could even begin to argue with my decision, I switched myself off.
There was oblivion, merciful nothingness, and then slowly I became aware of myself again. I was trapped back in my broken body like a fly in amber. As consciousness crept back I could hear low voices although I was unable to see the speakers.
(Since they weren't floating on the fucking ceiling!)
"I don't understand, Kathryn. I know I hurt him before the accident. I know I never admitted to him that I loved him when I had the chance. But I've been here for weeks. Every day, every night, telling him how much I need him. Showing him how much I care. Why is he rejecting me? Why is he turning me away?"
It was Chakotay, obviously. Whining in that fucking "Poor old me" voice that had begun to royally piss me off. Then I heard the Captain's reply:
"He's hurt, Chakotay. We can't begin to imagine what he's going through. You can't just put a bandage on his feelings and wish him better. He's so vulnerable now, so helpless. He probably doesn't know what he wants. You heard him beg us to kill him; he can't see the point of living. He's obviously too unhappy right now to deal with your affection. You will have to abide by his decision. We can do so little else for him, we have to at least honour this choice."
"But he can't possibly prefer to be alone. He can't really mean it." Chakotay argued in a tone of hurt bewilderment.
I tuned the Captain's reply out since I was certain that she would uphold my desire to have Chakotay kept from Sickbay and I was exhausted just listening to Chakotay's insistence that I didn't really want him to leave.
Oh yes I do, you sanctimonious bastard! That's exactly what I want.
You can fool the Captain and you can fool the rest of them but you don't fool me. The only reason you are finally ready to give me your love is because you are never going to have deal with the fact that I don't turn you on. You will never have to bite back your disgust in order to make love to me or pretend I am someone else just to get it up.
It's your fault I have to suffer like this. Your bloody guilt is the only thing that makes them keep me alive. Even the Captain would have given in and let me go but, oh no, you want to keep me alive in this hell just to satisfy your fucking sense of honour and I hate you for it.
I may have to live. I may have to suffer endless years of this prison. You might be able to keep stuffing tubes in me to force me to survive despite my best efforts to resist.
But I'm damned if I'm going to spend eternity watching your face as you tell your fucking hurtful lies.
As you pretend you love me.