Hostage
By
Morticia
Part
15
Tom
stood uncertainly in the bathroom of his quarters. The familiarity of the room
astounded him and yet he knew in every atom of his body that he didn’t belong
here. The Tom Paris who had walked out of these quarters with such arrogance two
months previously had died somewhere on an alien ship, alone and unmourned.
After
the Captain had arranged a site-to-site transport for him and he had
materialised here in the previous home of that ghost Tom Paris, he had gone into
the tiny bathroom and stared for a long time at his face. He had gazed without
recognition at the smooth pale skin and soft delicate lines of his features and
finally had been lost in the wide blue gaze of his own eyes. They were no longer
blank; instead they swirled with the deep desolate depths of an ocean. He
drowned in his own alien reflection.
He
was k’tech now. It didn’t
matter that the burning in his veins had been quenched or that the heavy fog
that had filled his brain for so long was finally lifting. Still, he WAS
k’tech.
Yet
he was that most pathetic of all k’tech. He was empty. They had stolen his
only weapon and defence. He was k’tech with no B’rech’k. His body could no
longer emit the siren song. He was alone. His B’rech’k had never wanted him,
and now he didn’t even need him either.
He
slowly unfastened the sickbay tunic that covered his chest and stared in
desolation at his bare nipples. The K’tech’nar had gone. He had been found
wanting and the adornments had been cruelly ripped away from him.
Wi’s
words came back to him “You don’t please the
master,” Wi had said “He has not given you the K’tech’nar so you are
still only meat.”
Terror weakened
Tom’s knees and he folded himself down until he was curled on the cold tiled
floor. He was meat, he was nothing, he had no B’rech’k.
You’re Lieutenant
Tom Paris, the senior pilot of Voyager, you aren’t k’tech, a voice called to
him desperately from within his own head, but it had no power over him because
he knew the truth.
The Captain might
mistake him for Tom Paris, he might even be able to live and play the role, but
deep inside his heart he knew the truth. He was Tom the k’tech, and his master
no longer wanted him.
~~~
“I
believe that both Mr Paris and the Commander are going to require extensive
counselling before they can return to duty,” the Doctor told the gathered
officers.
Although
Kathryn was still determined to protect the two men from public knowledge of
their mutual sexual imperative, she still had to give SOME explanation of their
long isolation in sickbay and the fact that they were physically so changed.
Tom’s
adaptation had, if anything, just made him cuter. He looked as harmless and
pretty as a Risan playmate. Chakotay, on the other hand, was quite terrifying in
appearance. It was not only his great size and harshly planed face that was
intimidating; his midnight eyes now had basilisk sheen.
To be honest, his black stare was oddly exciting. Stripped of his soft
brown eyes, Chakotay was as imposing as a force of nature. He looked
unstoppable.
To
tell the truth, he now resembled the ruthless terrorist she had half-expected
when she had been sent to catch the Crazy Horse. It wasn’t that she had been
disappointed to find that the Maquis Chakotay was actually a perfectly decent
man, just surprised and bewildered. She had expected a black-eyed pirate, not a doe-eyed
gentleman. The new Chakotay was far
more interesting.
Over
the past few weeks she had increasingly had to resist the urge to break her own
quarantine restrictions and visit sickbay. She had lain in bed night after
night, conjuring excuses for her visit only to wake the next morning ashamed and
confused by her curiosity.
She
wanted to watch, she wanted to see this stranger in Chakotay’s
She
had felt pity for Tom, guilt over letting him be brought so low, and yet some
part of her had envied him too. What would it be like to be able to give up all inhibitions
and blindly seek sexual fulfilment without always being aware of rank and duty
and consequence?
Yet
she had resisted the urge, understanding it as being ill-conceived fantasy. She
missed Mark, she missed the comfort and pleasure of
She
would do everything in her power to help Chakotay and Tom get through this.
Perhaps they would finally be brought together by the experience.
And
if not, if Tom and Chakotay’s chance of a normal relationship had been
irrevocably destroyed by the experience, well then perhaps she would allow
herself to give more thought to her fascination with Chakotay’s black-eyed
glare.
~~~
The
insistent ringing of his door chime finally drove Tom to his feet. He had let
the sound wash through and over him and yet it persisted until he couldn’t
pretend to ignore it anymore.
He
reluctantly gave permission for entry.
A
strange B’rech’k entered and Tom dove to his knees, bowing his head in
submission.
“Tom?”
Harry asked, questioning both his appearance and his behaviour. The Captain had
told them that the disease had physically changed Tom and that his experiences
had undoubtedly left mental scars that would require counselling. However, she
had refused to give any further details, saying that it would be Tom’s choice
whether to share the information.
Tom
blushed and pulled himself to his feet. It’s Harry, he told himself, your
friend.
Tom
Paris’s friend, the insidious voice replied. He’s B’rech’k and you’re
just a k’tech. Then hope replaced his fear.
Perhaps Harry wanted him now that Chakotay didn’t.
“Am
I yours now?” Tom asked quietly, trying to look as submissive and biddable as
he could.
“Jeez,
Tom, what the hell has happened to you?” Harry replied nervously.
Not
only was Tom acting as though he barely recognised him but also he couldn’t
fail to notice that his friend’s face, always enviably handsome anyway, had
softened into a delicate almost ethereal beauty. Tom’s eyes now seemed almost
too large for his face, their blue depths staring at him with an odd mix of
confusion, sadness and need.
Harry
flushed uncomfortably. He had always found Tom nearly irresistible but had
firmly hidden and controlled his feelings lest he ruin a friendship that meant
more to him than he could ever explain.
He
knew that Tom had a real problem with homosexuality. That had been evident
enough from the way he had refused to accept his feelings for Chakotay.
Harry wasn’t as naïve as people thought. He had seen the definite
sparks that had leapt between the two men. He had recognised in Chakotay the
same love for Tom as he himself shared.
Only
he had cloaked his desire with friendship and Chakotay had hidden his with
indifference and occassional aggression.
He
had seen the way Tom had reacted to Chakotay.
As much as Tom might have denied his own feelings, still he had been as
irresistibly drawn to the older man as a moth to a flame. He had constantly
teased and taunted the Commander, throwing himself repeatedly in Chakotay’s
face, refusing to be ignored, preferring the aggression to the indifference and
nurturing and feeding Chakotay’s anger as though he fed off it.
It
had broken Harry’s heart to turn his back on Tom when the pilot had protested
their apparent desertion of Chakotay. Only the Captain’s direct order and his
own knowledge that Tom was going after Chakotay anyway, had allowed him to
deceive his best friend.
How
unnecessarily frightened Tom must have been though, believing he was alone and
abandoned. Surely the knowledge that Voyager would be waiting would have made
his crazy rescue attempt that much easier to face.
Harry
had comforted himself that at least Tom and Chakotay would have finally admitted
their feelings to each other. He had expected to discover that they had left
sickbay together and his own feelings of personal loss were nothing compared to
his happiness that Tom had finally found someone who would love and appreciate
him as much as he himself did.
Discovering
that Chakotay had returned to his own quarters before Tom had even woken up and
that Tom had then returned home alone, Harry had rushed to his friend and
Tom’s desolation seemed proof enough that his hopes for a happy returning
couple had been wrong.
Tom
was still looking at him with that little-boy-lost expression and it wrenched
Harry’s heart.
“Where’s
Chakotay?” he asked Tom with deliberate lightness and scowled as he saw Tom
flinch at the name.
“He
doesn’t want me anymore,” Tom finally whispered and his eyes glistened with
the threat of tears before he ducked his head in shame.
Fury
rushed through Harry with volcanic force. Tom had risked his life for the
bastard, had rescued him, been inflicted with some god-awful disease and then
Chakotay had just shrugged and walked away? He couldn’t believe it.
“Did
you – did you and he - ?” Harry couldn’t manage to say the words.
Tom
began to tremble, nodded and then lost control of his tears. His delicate
shoulders were suddenly wracked with convulsive sobbing.
Harry
didn’t stop to think, he threw his arms around Tom and hugged him tightly, his
hands wrapping with ease around Tom’s slight frame. Tom was no taller than him
now and far more slender and he leant into the comfort of Harry’s embrace as
though he belonged there.
Harry
was furious with Chakotay. He had obviously been mistaken about the Commander.
Chakotay’s passion hadn’t been love, it had been lust. He had finally had
what he wanted from Tom and had discarded him like a cheap whore.
Tom
felt the strong B’rech’k arms surrounding him and sank into the comfort. His
hip brushed against Harry’s groin and felt the unmistakable bulge of an
erection. Relief nearly felled him. This B’rech’k wanted him; this
B’rech’k would give him the K’tech’nar.
He
dove for Harry’s lips and thrust his tongue eagerly inside. For a moment he
stopped in confusion as the familiar tingle of essence failed to ignite on his
tongue. Yet the B’rech’k was holding him, comforting him, offering him
salvation and so Tom responded in the only way he knew how and offered himself
body and soul.
“Take
me, make me yours,” he pleaded through his tears.
Harry
was a good man. He knew Tom was distraught and confused. He knew that Tom was
only seeking a substitute for the Commander. He knew they would probably both
bitterly regret this.
Yet,
the illusive unobtainable man who had featured in all of Harry’s wet dreams
since the day they had first met on DS9 was finally begging him to take him.
Harry
was only human, after all.
~~~
“It
doesn’t seem real,” Chakotay said quietly.
“That
you are back on Voyager?” Tuvok asked
“That
it happened at all. I keep thinking it’s just some crazy dream but then I see
reflections of myself and they stagger me, or I pick something up and realise
how large my hands are and it all floods back.”
“Denial
is an understandable and typical reaction to such trauma.”
“I
suppose I don’t want to face what I did, let alone what happened to me. It’s
not like me to run away from the truth but that’s what I keep doing.”
“I
greatly appreciate your permission for the mind-meld. I understand that it would
have been almost impossible for you to verbally explain what happened to you.
Allowing me to experience what happened to you in this way will not only speed
our own counselling process but will help Tom also.”
Chakotay
flinched at Tom’s name.
“You
still have not spoken with him?” Tuvok asked mildly although he knew the
answer. Still it was a way of making Chakotay face his largest problem.
“You
know what I did to him, Tuvok. How can I ever apologise? There is nothing I can
do or say that can possibly make anything right. Seeing me again is a slap in
the face he doesn’t need right now.”
“You
didn’t do anything to him that he didn’t agree to.”
“Because
of the disease, and he only caught it because he came to rescue me, so it’s my
fault.”
“Why
do you believe he did choose to rescue you?” Tuvok asked quietly.
“Some
stupid sense of guilt,” Chakotay replied.
“And
was it guilt that made him risk his life to save you on Ocampa, too?” Tuvok
queried
Chakotay
frowned in thought. “He just wanted to have something to throw in my face.
You saw the way he enjoyed the chance to rile me when he was flushing out
Jonas. He hates me.”
“He
distinctly told you that he didn’t. He said that he admired you. He said he
hated the way you made him feel worthless.” Tuvok reminded him.
“Then
why has he always gone out of his way to piss me off?”
“Protective
coloration perhaps, just as you have constantly held him at arms length with
your attitude of indifference.”
“Then
you think that he does care about me?” Chakotay asked in disbelief.
“You
yourself know that Tom had an extreme reaction to becoming a k’tech.
He became insanely jealous, terrified that you would be taken from him.
This fear was so great that it infected you too.
From what I have seen of the B’rech’k they are not usually such
slaves to their k’tech’s emotions. While your close confinement in the ship
and then sickbay exacerbated the problem, I believe that it was not a natural
B’rech’k/k’tech response at all.
“The
disease removed your natural defences, made both of you give in to impulses that
neither of you would have done so without its interference.
The sexual imperative was physical, but I believe that Tom’s emotional
reaction was based on genuine feelings that were then blown out of proportion by
the disease.”
“So
you are saying that even without the addiction, Tom may still have those
feelings for me?”
“I
believe it is probable. Your
experiences have allowed those hidden feelings to emerge. Tom will find it more
difficult to put them away again. You
need to talk to each other. You both need closure and you also may find that
there is now a chance for a new kind of relationship together.”
Chakotay
stared down at his overlarge hands. Could it be true? Was it possible that
Tom’s hurtful words had just been self-protection and denial? Had Tom’s
insane jealousy against Wi and Skan been due to genuine feelings of love rather
than merely a symptom of the disease?
Was
it possible that Tom would welcome his love, after all?
No,
it was too much to hope for and the risk of rejection was too terrifying.
Then
again, Tom had risked his life to save him. Surely he could risk his heart in
return. The worst thing that could
happen would be the confirmation of his fears. Was he too much of a coward to
face Tom’s possible hatred? Didn’t he owe Tom some closure even if it ripped
his own heart apart?
“I’ll
go and talk to him,” he finally told Tuvok.
~~~
Kathryn
put another data padd on the pile of finished reports and sighed heavily as she
realised that she was barely making a dent in the stack of unread ones.
She hadn’t truly been aware of how much work Chakotay did for her as
First Officer. She had farmed out as many duties as possible but still a
two-month backlog of reports glared at her accusingly from her desk.
It
was late and she was too tired to carry on. She contemplated coffee but knew it
would only give her a false buzz of energy and then prevent any true rest when
she finally did go to bed.
Damn
she missed Chakotay. Not only his work but also his support and companionship.
He had probably been asleep for hours; there was little point in
checking.
She
checked.
He
was in the observation lounge, alone.
Genuine
concern mingled with her own need for companionship and she made her way to find
him. As she entered she was
surprised to find the room unlit. His dark brooding presence loomed in the view
port and she walked over to him quietly.
For
a long time he ignored her, lost in his own contemplation of the passing stars,
and then finally he turned and faced her. His black eyes glinted in the darkness
with unshed tears.
Kathryn
peered up at his face with difficulty; her chin barely reached his midriff now.
His silent hulking body made her ache with sadness and shiver with a desire to
be hugged into the comfort of his quiet strength.
“What’s
wrong, Chakotay?” she whispered softly.
Chakotay
closed his eyes in pain. Kathryn’s gentle query forced him to once again face
the sight that had destroyed him.
He
had gone to Tom’s quarters and rung the chime with increasing impatience; sure
that Tom was deliberately avoiding him. He had over-ridden the lock and entered.
The lounge had been empty but he could hear the unmistakable sounds of passion
from the bedroom.
He
had wanted to run, to hide, but instead had found himself drawn to the closed
door, less by curiosity than a need face the pain he knew awaited him.
He
had pushed the door open and found Tom in bed with Harry Kim.