Part Three

"I don't believe you," Tom said desperately. "She wouldn't have left him behind. What about the Maquis? She needs him. She wouldn't have left him behind just because of me. Oh god. It's my fault, isn't it? It's all my fault. He's alone on an alien planet and it's my fault!"

"It wasn't your fault, Tom," the Doctor assured him. He had known this was a bad idea. Tom was far too fragile to deal with the burden of this kind of grief.

"Yes it is. You told me she left him because I'd been seeing him," Tom cried. "Oh, shit. What have I done?"

"You misunderstood me, Tom. I only meant that your seeing him was the reason the Captain *agreed* to let him go. Chakotay made the decision to leave himself," the Doctor answered quickly.

"That's not what you said," Tom denied angrily.

"Yes it is, Tom. You just don't remember clearly. It's your medicine probably, you know it sometimes makes you confused," the Doctor continued, praying that his ethical subroutines could cope with this much deception.

Tom chewed his lower lip and rubbed at his temples in confusion.

"I don't believe you," he muttered desperately. "I don't believe she'd have left him behind. This is just your way of trying to keep me away from him, isn't it?"

"Tom, I -"

"COMPUTER. LOCATION OF COMMANDER CHAKOTAY?" Tom screamed.

"Commander Chakotay is in his quarters," the computer answered pleasantly.

"LIAR!" Tom yelled at the Doctor in triumph.

"Tom, Chakotay's comm. badge is probably in his quarters. That's all. He's left the ship. He's not coming back."

"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!"

"Tom, please calm down. This isn't helping. You're going to hurt yourself if you don't stop throwing things around."

"I want to see Chakotay!" Tom demanded.

"I told you, he stayed on V'tx'n. He's not here," The Doctor replied, approaching Tom with a hypo hidden behind his back.

"LIAR! I want to see him NOW!"

"Tom, please, calm down. I will ask the Captain to -"

"I don't want the fucking Captain, I want Chakotay!"

The Doctor dived at Tom's neck with the hypospray, Tom twisted and swung his arm against the doctor's, causing the hypo to fly out of his hands and smash against the wall.

"Bastard!" he hissed.

Looking at Tom's wild, terrified but decidedly furious eyes, the Doctor made a decision.

"Okay, Tom. Let's go *see* Chakotay," he offered.

Tom narrowed his eyes in suspicion but followed the Doctor to the door and out into the corridor.

"Are you sure that you can cope with entering Chakotay's quarters?" the Doctor asked in sudden concern.

"I want to see him," Tom hissed back, although his face had turned white at the prospect of returning to the place of his incarceration.

At some level, he knew that Chakotay *must* have left the ship. No one would dare say he had if he hadn't unless they really wanted to drive him insane. Even so, he had to be sure, he had to *know*, before he could even begin to face what it would mean to himself that Chakotay was gone.

Chakotay's quarters were deserted. Chakotay's comm. badge was lying in the middle of his low coffee table.

Tom wasn't sure if it was the realization that Chakotay had really gone, or the fact that he was back in the quarters where he had been held captive, but suddenly he was overcome by such a sudden rush of nausea that he had to bolt for Chakotay's bathroom.

The Doctor listened to the sound of Tom retching and wished for a moment that he was not a hologram because he felt sick himself and he didn't know how the hell a hologram was supposed to deal with *that* feeling.

He comforted himself that at least Tom now seemed to have accepted the truth and decided to give Tom some privacy. He couldn't leave him alone, because of the Captain's orders, but he did not follow him into the bathroom.

Tom shakily pulled himself back to his feet and flushed the bowl. He rinsed his mouth under the tap but couldn't eradicate the bilious taste in his mouth so he opened Chakotay's bathroom cabinet in the hope that he might have left some toothpaste or something behind.

Then he just looked in the cabinet for a long time and thought.

The Doctor didn't hear Tom creep slowly out of the bathroom and into Chakotay's bedroom.

Tom quietly opened the wardrobe doors and looked inside.

~~~

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked, when Tom finally returned to the living room.

"He's really gone?" Tom asked calmly.

"Yes," the Doctor admitted.

"Can I trust you?" Tom asked seriously.

"Yes," the Doctor stated although had he been human he would have flushed in embarrassment.

"Then I want to know the truth," Tom said quietly.

"The truth?" The Doctor asked nervously.

"Tell me *why* he left. No bullshit, no lies, just the truth."

The Doctor's subroutines chased themselves in confusion between the Captain's orders and his responsibility to his patient. He knew that his lies to Tom had already caused harm, and a further lie at this point could destroy Tom's capacity to ever trust anyone again.

"He knows," the Doctor finally blurted. "He accessed his locked medical files."

He waited for Tom's panicked reaction. Instead the pilot simply nodded.

"Thank you for being honest," he said quietly. "I appreciate it."

And to the Doctor's surprise, Tom simply walked out of Chakotay's quarters and returned quietly to his own.

~~~

"He's alright about it?" Kathryn asked in surprise.

"I am as surprised as you are, Captain," the Doctor replied.

"Well, to tell the truth, right at the beginning, before we thought of the idea that you could remove Chakotay's memories, Tom accepted that there would be no way that Chakotay would be able to face him if he knew what he had done. So, I suppose it makes sense to him that Chakotay would chose to leave," she commented. " At least he doesn't know what Chakotay intends to do. Unless you found it ethically necessary to tell him *that* too?" she added nastily.

"If we had told him *everything* before the Commander left the ship, Tom might have been able to convince Chakotay *not* to kill himself," the Doctor snapped back.

"Oh God, don't you think I know that?" Kathryn replied. "Do you think it was an *easy* decision to make? Tuvok and I both pleaded with him for hours to change his mind. Tuvok even mind-melded with him, with his permission, so that we could be *sure* his decision wasn't somehow being influenced by his original illness. We did *everything* we could to change his mind."

"Not everything," the Doctor replied pointedly.

"No. I drew a line at using Tom Paris," Kathryn agreed. "Chakotay's mind was made up. He couldn't live with what he had done, and to be honest, if I were him, I would feel the same way. If I had involved Tom, it wouldn't have saved Chakotay, it would simply have destroyed Tom as well. This way, Tom will never know what really happened and he will put Chakotay behind him and will move on.

"I made a decision, a terrible decision, to allow one of my crew to take his own life. Don't imagine that is something I can live with easily, Doctor. Yet, my only alternative, given Chakotay's determination to die, would have been to put him in the brig and then convene a hearing for him to argue his right to commit suicide. Whether he won or lost that hearing, and the probability given the law is that he would have won, it would have destroyed Tom to witness it. Furthermore, if I had forced Chakotay to the necessity of a hearing, what he did to Tom would have become public knowledge.

"I had no other choice and I alone must live with what I did, and God help me for my decision."

No sooner had she uttered the words than the lights went out.

~~~

"We're dead in the water, Captain," Baytart told her glumly.

"The warp engine is on-line," B'Elanna argued. "We have full power to the shields and deflectors and life support is stable."

"However, the communications grid, navigation system, the lights and the sensor arrays are off-line," Tuvok stated.

"So we are completely blind," the Captain concluded.

"In more ways than one," Harry agreed as he stumbled over someone's legs in the near total darkness.

"What the hell has happened to the emergency lights?" Kathryn demanded.

"They are off line too," Tuvok stated unnecessarily.

"What is wrong with the computer?" Kathryn snapped.

"It's more a case of 'who' is wrong, Captain," Harry's muffled voice replied from under the console he was checking with a small pencil-light.

"Sabotage," Tuvok concurred from his own station.

"You're telling me that someone has deliberately crippled *my* ship?" Kathryn demanded in outrage.

"She's not crippled, Captain, just temporarily blind. We have full defense systems and safety critical functions. We just don't dare *move* until we know where we are going," Harry chirped.

"That is correct," Tuvok said as he made an adjustment that brought the Bridge's interior lights and a couple of the terminals back on.

B'Elanna checked something on one of the restored terminals and took a deep intake of breath.

"I'm going back to my Engines in case the stupid bastard did something to *them* that I don't know about yet," B'Elanna hissed, and marched off to the turbolift.

The doors didn't open.

"I'll kill him," she screamed as she headed for the Jeffries Tube instead.

"Kill who?" Baytart asked innocently.

Kathryn walked over to the screen that B'Elanna had been looking at. It showed the shuttle bay, from which the Delta Flyer was missing.

"Tom Paris," Kathryn said, in a surprisingly mild voice.

~~~

Q'sd'n turned to the angry general and said, "Let the alien craft land."

T'sd'r bristled with fury.

"The pilot has refused to answer our hails, Prime. For all we know the ship could be a weapon of mass destruction. The idea of dropping the defense grid and allowing it in, is irresponsible and dangerous."

"It is not a weapon," Q'sd'n replied mildly.

"Then why won't the pilot announce his intentions?" T'sd'r challenged.

"Because, I suspect, he is in too much of a hurry to stop and talk to your men, T'sd'r."

The V'tx'n general's eyes widened.

"You believe he is here to stop the *other*?"

"Yes, and perhaps, if we do not interfere, he may arrive in time."

"His ships markings and design are different than the mother ship," V'tx'n argued, though with less rancor.

"But his desperation is the same as the Chakotay's, is it not?"

"Entering our space like this *is* equally suicidal," the general snapped.

"Which is, I believe, my point," Q'sd'n replied mildly. "Open the defense grid on a narrow window to ensure that he lands in X'rn'dr. Erect a force shield around the craft, in case it *is* a weapon, and prepare my ground car so that I might meet this pilot when he disembarks. If he is who I believe he is, there is little time."

"Can you not prevent the other alien from harming himself until we know the truth of the matter? It would be a more prudent action to take."

The V'tx'n Prime sighed.

"I gave my word to the Chakotay that we would not interfere in his necessary rituals. His beliefs demand that his life is sacrificed in the early dawn. I cannot stop the sun from rising, T'sd'r and I cannot, will not, break my word of honor to a man of obvious honor. What is meant to be will come to pass."

"Then why are you allowing the craft to land?"

"Because we can always find room in our hearts for hope, T'sd'r. Over the last three days there have been great rumblings of discontent and sorrow over the alien's decision. In the few days he has been here we have seen him to be a gentle spirit in great torment. No one wishes to see his suffering prolonged, but we would all welcome an alternative to his suicide."

~~~

As the Delta Flyer came to rest on the ground and her engines died down to an eerie quiet, Tom finally dared to take a deep shuddering breath.

He had been sure that they would shoot him down from the sky for his failure to answer their demands for an explanation of his presence. He wasn't stupid. He knew that approaching a well defended alien planet unannounced was tantamount to asking for a missile across his bow. He hadn't deliberately been silent.

He simply had been unable to speak.

As the increasingly angry demands of the aliens had flooded the cockpit with words of aggression, Tom had felt the too familiar signs of an oncoming panic attack. It had been all that he could do to keep flying the ship without curling himself into a ball of shivering terror.

He had done the unforgivable. He had left Voyager crippled, had stolen a shuttle,  had turned his back on the only people who had ever tried to stand between him and hurt, to try to save the life of the man who had been responsible for tearing his life and soul apart, and he didn't even know *why* he was doing it.

~~~

"Please," Tom begged.

Q'sd'n looked thoughtfully at the young man. He was quivering with tension, with the need to race and stop Chakotay's ceremony, but his fear was too palpable to be only fear of the dark man's death.

"Why do you care?" he demanded. "I know what this man did to you. I insisted on full disclosure before I allowed him to come here."

"I love him," Tom whispered.

Q'sd'n nodded. This was, indeed, the true tragedy.

"You fear him though," he stated firmly. "You cannot truly feel safe with him. You fear that the *other* still lurks beneath his outward appearance."

Tom bit his lower lip and looked away, unable to lie to this surprisingly kind alien.

"He needs to be punished for what he did," Q'sd'n stated.

"It wasn't his fault!" Tom protested.

"I did not say he deserved punishment. I said that he *needs* it. Your forgiveness, though meant kindly, is worse for him than the knowledge of what he has done."

"I know," Tom whispered. "But I *need* him. Doesn't that count? Doesn't that matter? If he dies, I may as well die too."

"He strikes me as a gentle man, who finds the burden of his guilt too heavy to bear. In your forgiveness of him, you inadvertently add to that burden and the weight is too much for him. He is a man of honor. His honor demands that he is punished and because of your refusal to punish him, he has been forced to seek the judgment of his gods instead."

"You're saying that it is my fault he wants to kill himself?" Tom sobbed.

"I am saying that you alone have a way of saving him," Q'sd'n replied. "But it will be a difficult path for you both and perhaps you have both already suffered too much to walk it."

"What can I do? Please, help me," Tom begged.

"Use his beliefs against him. Call on his honor. Withdraw your forgiveness. Demand reparation. Insist that he lives to suffer *your* punishment instead of seeking that of the next world."

"I can't hurt him," Tom sobbed. "I can't pretend to hate him for what he did. I don't. It wasn't him. It wasn't his fault."

"He does not believe that, Tom Paris. The dawn will break shortly and it will be over. If you wish to save him, you must, perhaps, be strong enough to hurt him. It is necessary to suture a wound before it can heal. He needs you to burn him with your fire if he is ever to heal."

"I don't have any fire," Tom whispered.

"You are here, are you not? You have *that* much love for him that you have fought your own fear to try and save him. Can you not find in yourself a little *more* courage now?"

~~~

"Tom?" Chakotay asked disbelievingly.

"Put the knife down, Chakotay," Tom replied, his calm voice belied by his pale face and terrified blue eyes.

For a moment, Chakotay was uncertain whether Tom was terrified that he would use the ceremonial blade on himself or whether he would use it on the pilot. He realized that he had instinctively spun so that the sharp metal was pointed in Tom's direction, and so he dropped the blade with a horrified moan.

As soon as it clattered to the floor, a shudder of relief ran through the pilot's body.

"What are you doing here?" Chakotay asked.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?"

"Why the hell do you care, Tom? Why the hell didn't you kill me yourself?" Chakotay screamed. 

Tom crossed his arms defensively across his chest.

"Maybe I just want to watch you do it," he hissed.

Chakotay blinked in surprise but then he nodded. Tom was right. Maybe the pilot couldn't strike the blow, but he had every right to watch it. He reached for the knife again.

"Coward," Tom spat.

Chakotay looked up in disbelief. Tom was still keeping a safe distance between them but his face was screwed up in anger.

"It's the only way, Tom. The only way I can keep my honor."

"Screw your honor, you selfish bastard," Tom replied. "What am I supposed to do, huh? Am I supposed to kill myself too? Oh yeah, of course. I mean, shit, if honor demands your life for doing it to me, I guess if I had any honor I'd have killed myself for letting you do it. Is that what this is about? You proving that you're a better man than me after all? That you're braver than me? That you've got more fucking *honor* than me?"

"What I did to you, the things I did, I can't live with them, Tom. I, I can't be that person, I can't let that person live unpunished. Don't you understand that?" Chakotay begged.

"I'll tell you what I understand. You're running away. You're copping out. You're taking the easy way out and leaving ME to deal with your shit," Tom snarled.

"It's not like that, Tom. Please. You did nothing wrong. *I* am the guilty one. *I* deserve to die. I want you to forget about me, move on, try to get over what I did to you. Just turn around and walk away, Tom. Go back to Voyager, to people who love you and will protect you from bastards like me."

"They didn't do much of a job last time, did they?" Tom hissed. 

"Just go, Tom. Please," Chakotay pleaded.

"Why the fuck should I? Do it, if you're going to do it. Let me watch. Let me see you do it so that I can spend the rest of my life knowing that even after you knew what you did to me, you still didn't give a fuck about me!"

"Spirits, that's not true. I love you, Tom," Chakotay cried.

Tom flinched as though he had been slapped.

"See," Chakotay said sadly. "It's better this way."

"Better for *you*, " Tom hissed. "What about me?"

"You move on."

"Move on? You don't know SHIT! Do you *know* what you did to me, Chakotay? Do you really know?"

"I don't remember, " Chakotay confessed. "But I read the files."

"Oh, you *read* the files," Tom spat. "You read a few pages on a viewscreen and so you *know*, do you? "

"No, I can't begin to pretend to *know*, Tom. I don't know the details, I can't even bear to think about what the details were."

"Shall I tell you how it was between us, *Commander*?"

"Please, Tom. Don't do this. I don't, I can't bear it."

"Tough shit, because I want to tell you, and you are going to listen. You owe me, Chakotay. You owe me more than your blood on a fucking knife. If you're going to kill yourself, at least fucking understand *why* you're doing it!"

Chakotay closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Tom was right. He owed Tom more than he could ever possibly pay. It Tom wanted to flay him with his accusations it was no less than he deserved, and maybe in some way it would help Tom to hurt him. He deserved Tom's anger, Tom's wrath. He couldn't deny Tom his need for vengeance.

Suddenly he saw his actions as cowardice, after all. He *had* been taking the easy way out. he had tried to deny Tom his pound of flesh. That was why Tom had come after him. Not to save his life, just to face his abuser and cut and tear him as he himself had been wounded.

"You kept me like an animal, Chakotay. No, worse than an animal. I wasn't your pet. I was your toy, your plaything. You kept me naked. I had to kneel in *position*. Do you know what that meant? DO YOU?" Tom screamed.

Chakotay shook his head helplessly.

"I had to kneel, all the time, with my knees apart so that you could see what was *yours*, with a nine-inch butt plug up my ass. You used to make me crawl on the floor. CRAWL, and then I had to suck you off, with that fucking plug in my ass driving me mad, until I couldn't stop myself getting hard too, and then you would make ME fetch a paddle and BEG you, fucking BEG YOU, to beat me until I came."

"Please, Tom, Don't," Chakotay pleaded.

"Then there was 'Boyz Night'. You don't remember that either, do you? When you and Ayala and Smitty and Dalby used to sit around drinking and playing poker and laughing at me as I hobbled around naked, with my ass so fucking bruised from the paddle that I could barely walk, but you made me serve you like a slave or suck you off in front of them so they could see how broken I was?

"But then again, they'd sampled the goods themselves, hadn't they? You'd let them have me enough times. Until you got possessive, of course, and decided that the only fun they could have with me was sticking the high-pressure maintenance hose up my ass to give me an enema.

"That was okay though, really. I mean it hurt like fuck, but at least it wasn't *me* doing it, was it? It wasn't until I learnt to be *good* that I really lost my pride. When you rewarded me for giving in by giving me my very own little enema kit and a butt plug that matched my eyes so I could do it to myself. You liked that, Chakotay. You liked knowing that I got myself ready for you. That I was so fucking scared of you that I would spend an hour in the bathroom with my own fingers up my ass, desperately trying to stretch myself so I could insert my own fucking sky blue butt plug.

"Did you read *that* in the medical files, Chakotay? Did you? "

"No," Chakotay gasped, tears of horrified shame rolling down his cheeks.

"Did it say how I used to scream when you fucked me because it hurt so much? And then it stopped hurting, and that was worse. I started *wanting* your cock in my ass. It was the only pleasure I had in a nightmare of pain. It used to feel so fucking *good* that I had to beg you to hurt me too just so I could remember that you were raping me.

"You used to call me 'Simon'. You loved Simon. If I pretended to be Simon you didn't rape me, you made love to me. Do you know how fucking much that hurt me? That you weren't *all* monster, that even mad you were capable of loving someone, cherishing someone, and I didn't want to be me anymore. I wanted to *be* Simon, so you'd stop hurting me. But when you touched me like that all I wanted was the pain back so I could remember that I was me again?"

"And then, it was over. I got rescued and you got thrown in the brig, and I was going to get my revenge on you, I was going to see you punished for what you did to me. Only you stole it from me. You were mad. You were ill. It wasn't your fault. It was mine."

"Shit, Tom. Don't say that, please. Don't ever think it was your fault."

"Why not? It was, wasn't it? The day you walked into the Sickbay and told me you'd ordered Dalby to rape me and I was yours now, to do what you wanted with, I could have said no. I could have gone to the Captain. I could have stopped it before it happened. You didn't kidnap me, Chakotay. I gave myself to you, I allowed it all to happen because I was too fucking scared to say no.

"Then, when it got worse, when you trapped me in your quarters, I never even tried to run away. Fuck, Chakotay. I just sabotaged Voyager to steal a shuttle and follow you here. Do you really think I wasn't capable of over-riding your door locks?"

"So why didn't you?" Chakotay begged.

"I don't know. I don't fucking KNOW. I keep telling myself I was too scared, too confused, too damned terrified of what you would do if you caught me. But, let's face it, you couldn't have done anything worse to me anyway, could you?"

"No," Chakotay whispered.

"You fucked my head, Chakotay. You fucked my head up so badly over eight years that I lost the ability to know who I was anymore. After Auckland, after what happened there, I lost my balls."

"What happened in Auckland, Tom?" Chakotay pleaded, needing to know now, needing the waves of pain and horror that were washing over him with Tom's bitter confession.

"Oh, you want *those* juicy details too, now? The fact that I turned up there and I apparently had a tattoo on my forehead saying 'Property of Chakotay, fuck at will?'  You had a lot of friends there, didn't you? Lots of nice buddies willing to start the process of breaking me in.

"You know something, big guy? Something happens to you when you get stripped naked in the middle of a mess hall and the whole room take turns at your ass between courses while the guards pretend they can't see you screaming and begging for help. After that, you learn to wear a mask on your face just to be able to walk into a room full of faces, knowing they have all had you and will have you again.

"I was the Friday night mess entertainment in Auckland for nine months. I used to spend the rest of the week in the sickbay getting patched up for my next performance.

"Then, suddenly, I get this reprieve. Some Starfleet Captain arrives, like a hero, and offers me a vacation in the badlands. Not much chance of a sun-tan, but what the hell,  it's a nice change from being a public utility fuck-toy, I figure.

"But, guess what? The Paris luck holds out. I end up in the Delta Quadrant with Ayala's arm up my ass. No change there, I figure. So the doctor puts my insides back together, and I wait for my next debut in the cargo bay, but, guess what? Nothing happens. I figure that they got a bit scared with how bad I got injured and they don't want the merchandise *too* badly damaged, so I wait, and I wait some more, and then slowly, as the weeks become months and the months become years, I start to believe its over, really over.

"I stop looking over my shoulder all the time. I start to let my mask slip, stop pretending that I am untouchable, I start to trust people, I even begin a real relationship with B'Elanna. I start to dream that the nightmare is over and that I can be a normal guy. I start to believe that I am safe. And then,"

"And then it started again," Chakotay whispered.

"Yeah," Tom laughed. "All those years of confidence were wiped out when Dalby threw me over his console and ripped my ass apart, and I found myself begging, fucking BEGGING him to keep doing it to me."

"What?"

"Oh, wasn't *that* in the report, Commander? Didn't it tell you what a whore I am? I'm just a slut, that's all. *That's* what Auckland taught me. That I *like* it rough, or should I say my body is so fucked up that it *thinks* I do? But, of course, Simon liked it rough, so you had to make me react the same way, didn't you? I got well and truly trained by the Chakotay School of Rape Appreciation and graduated with honors, top of the class.

"You fucked me up, Chakotay. It's up to you to put it right again."

"What the hell can I do?" Chakotay asked helplessly.

"You made me into *your* toy, Chakotay, so its too fucking late to say you don't want to play with me anymore."

"You *want* me to touch you again?" Chakotay asked in horrified disbelief. "You tell me all those things and think that I could ever lay a finger on you again? Can't you see I'd rather die than hurt you or anyone ever again? I don't want to *play* with you, Tom and the fact that you want me to only proves how badly I have damaged you. I don't want to be responsible for any more of your pain."

"I don't give a shit what you *want*," Tom howled. "This isn't about *you* anymore. You gave that right up when you decided to kill yourself. Fine. So you want to die? Well I don't give a shit what you want. I don't care. You owe me, Chakotay. Your life is MINE. You want to suffer for what you did? Then suffer. Wallow in your self-pity. Drown in it, if you like. But it's going to be on MY terms, not yours. You owe me, and I'm calling in my markers. You don't get away that easy. I'm not letting you off the hook like this. If you have any *honor* then you will live and face up to what you did to me."

"I can't," Chakotay begged. "Please, Tom. Don't do this to me. Don't do it to yourself. What's happened can never be put right. Nothing I can do will ever make anything better. I can't live knowing what I did, knowing what you suffered because of me, and knowing that I can never put anything right again."

"You can, Chakotay, and you will. You will because your fucking *honor* will make you live, and if it hurts and it is unbearable, then tough shit, join the club, because *I* intend to live, and I need you."

"You don't need me, Tom," Chakotay assured him.

"Don't fucking tell me what I need, you bastard. For three months you told me what I needed. You told me when to eat and piss and shit. Don't you EVER dare to tell me again what I do or do not need."

"I'm sorry," Chakotay mumbled.

"You will be," Tom snarled.

He saw something jump then in Chakotay's eyes, and it wasn't fear or guilt, it was hope, and Tom realized that Q'sd'n was right. The idea of punishment in this life was the only thing that would stop Chakotay from seeking it in the next.

"What do you want of me, Tom?" Chakotay asked brokenly.

"Eight years," Tom replied.

"What?" Chakotay demanded in disbelief.

"You took eight years of my life and turned them into a living hell, Chakotay. So that's what I want. Eight years of your life. Then, if you still want to kill yourself, I'll give you the knife myself," Tom replied with a cold smile.

"Eight years of what?"

"Eight years of you being mine, Chakotay. In any fucking way I say you are. You will belong to me. If I want to beat you, you let me. If I want to give your ass away in the mess hall you'll say "yes, sir" and if I want you to spend those eight years kneeling in position in *my* fucking quarters, Chakotay, you'll do it. You owe me, you bastard, and you are going to pay. Do you understand?"

"Is this really what you need, Tom? To hurt me like I hurt you? To do to me what I did to you? Is that what you need? Vengeance?"

"And if I do?" Tom demanded.

Chakotay bent his head in defeat.

"Then I'll agree," he said brokenly. "You're right. I deserve to suffer and if it helps you, then that makes it right."

"So you won't kill yourself? Your life is mine? I can do anything that I want with you?" Tom demanded.

"Yes. For eight years, I'll be yours," Chakotay agreed, his head bowed in shame. "I deserve no more."

Tom turned away to hide his tears. It was unbearable to see Chakotay broken like this. He didn't want Chakotay's grief and guilt. He didn't want to inflict pain on this gentle, broken man. He wanted to see those brown eyes sparkle with love, not defeat. He wanted Chakotay as his lover, not his slave. He could no more raise his hand against this man than he could face the idea of suffering more pain himself. It hurt him that Chakotay would even believe him capable of exacting vengeance in this way. 

But if the alternative was Chakotay's corpse lying under an alien sky, he would take what he had and work with it.

This way, at least, Chakotay would have to live.

Somehow, he would find a way to mend both of their shattered souls. God, surely in eight years they could find a way to trust and love each other. He had bought some time, at least, and that was a start.

After the stunt he had pulled to steal the Delta Flyer, he might spend the next several months in the brig, but at least he knew that Chakotay had given his word that he would not take his life during Tom's incarceration.

Then, maybe, they could start the slow process of healing.

~~~

Chakotay sank down and huddled in misery on the floor outside of Tom's bathroom. He had given his word that he would stay alive, that he would give Tom his 'vengeance'. He had even begged the Captain to allow it against her own better judgment, yet now, he bitterly regretted his choice.

He should have killed himself.

As far as he could see, Tom wasn't getting better, he was getting worse.

For the last two weeks since they had returned to Voyager and had both been greeted with remarkably little rancor by the Captain considering Tom's sabotage of the ship, Chakotay had tried to give Tom what he wanted. He had listened in acceptance to Tom's list of 'rules'.

That their 'arrangement' remained secret except for the Captain, Tuvok and the Doctor. That Chakotay resumed his role as Commander and stayed on Beta shift so that he and Tom would not interact on duty. That at shift end each night he would go to Tom's quarters and sleep on the floor in the corner of Tom's bedroom. That he would rise with Tom in the mornings and prepare his breakfast and then return to 'bed'. Then after Tom had left for work, Chakotay would clean and tidy Tom's quarters and then attend his own shift.

In itself, apart from the discomfort of the floor, Tom asked nothing more of him. They did not speak. Tom did not strike him with words or with fists. Tom simply ignored his existence. Because of the difference in their shifts, it had not been immediately apparent to him. Tom was in bed when he got 'home' and he himself was still half-asleep when Tom rose in the morning. Their failure to speak to each other was no more than that for the first four days.

It had been on Sunday, when their day off coincided that Chakotay first had a true inkling that what he thought he had agreed to, was not what was truly happening. He had been looking forward to the day off with a strange mix of dread and anticipation. Finally, Tom would have time and leisure to "punish" him. He did not know what it would entail, hence the dread, but he welcomed it regardless.

Instead, Tom had spent most of the day curled up in a chair, pretending to read and looking like the proverbial white rabbit as he quivered from head to toe every time that Chakotay had moved.

Chakotay had risen first and put Tom's breakfast on the table, then had waited while Tom pushed the food listlessly around his plate.

"What do you want me to do?" he had asked.

Tom's eyes had flashed.

"Did I say you could speak?" he had demanded.

Chakotay had shaken his head in apology.

Tom had then made Chakotay kneel 'in position' all day, but he had reacted with near hysterics when Chakotay had begun to strip, assuming that was what Tom had wanted, and so the whole day had been spent with him simply kneeling, fully clothed, in the corner of Tom's room, while Tom had sat in terrified silence on the other side of the room, trying to pretend he wasn't there and jumping in terror every time that cramp forced Chakotay to adjust his position slightly.

Worse than that, though, were the nights.

Tom had nightmares every night, terrible horrific nightmares in which he would scream and beg someone not to hurt him, and Chakotay would lie on the floor, listening to Tom's pleas and would cry as he understood that the person in Tom's nightmares was himself.

If, like now, he rose and tried to ease the terror of Tom's dreams, the pilot would wake and bolt in terror into his bathroom, where he would spend the rest of the night with the safety of a locked door between himself and the object of his terror.

Witnessing Tom's pain was worse than any physical punishment that could have been given him, and sometimes he wondered whether Tom knew that and merely wished him to share an understanding of what he had done. That in itself would be bearable. If the next eight years were just a nightmare of being forced firsthand to witness the destruction that he had wrought in the pilot, then it was no more than he deserved.

What was truly unbearable was the realization that his presence here was not helping Tom, it was only adding to his fear.

~~~

"I can't do it, Captain," Tom said miserably, as he sat in the briefing room after the rest of the senior staff had left.

"I warned you it wouldn't be easy," she replied mildly.

She had, to be honest, said a great deal of unsupportive things when Tom had arrived back on Voyager and had outlined his proposal for dealing with Chakotay. Yet the fact that Tom had managed to retrieve Chakotay in one piece, with an alleged agreement that he would not seek to harm himself for eight years, was so much more than she could have hoped for that she had felt unable to completely disregard Tom's idea.

Tom was still far from well, but the fact that he had acted as he did to save Chakotay's life had caused her to re-evaluate him. She had, of course, removed his holodec privileges for the next three months as a "punishment" for stealing the Delta Flyer, but it was merely a gesture of disapproval and he had understood that.

Where she had baulked was at Tom's insistence that Chakotay's monitoring device was removed and that he should move into Tom's quarters. She understood completely that Tom had no intention of abusing his new-found power over the Commander. It wasn't Chakotay's safety she was concerned with. It was Tom's.

"It's supposed to be payback," he had told her. "So he has to stay with me like I did with him or he won't believe me."

The idea of Chakotay sleeping on Tom's floor had disturbed her initially because of the perceived embarrassment of the situation for the Commander. Now she saw that it was damaging Tom too.

"I can't sleep, Captain. Knowing he's there in the room. I keep dreaming that he attacks me as I sleep and when I have the nightmare and he tries to wake me up, I panic and run into the bathroom. If I send him back to his own quarters now he'll know I never meant it when I said I wanted to punish him."

Kathryn thought about what he was saying and her mind supplied a solution so unthinkable that she bit her own lip in shock. Then she decided, what the hell? She had already proven her own inability to deal with this situation by abandoning Chakotay to his suicide attempt in the first place. Time and time again, Tom's bravery in this situation was astounding her. Tom had told her what the V'tx'n Prime had said, and as much as she had wanted to argue the point, she truly believed that he was right. Tom's solution might not be the most ethical idea she had ever come across, but the alternative, Chakotay's suicide, was far worse.

"I think you should restrain him," she blurted.

"What?" Tom asked in complete shock.

Kathryn flushed, but continued.

"You told me he did that to you sometimes, chained you up," she said.

"Yeah," Tom agreed miserably.

"So if you chained him, at night, he would feel punished and you would feel safe, wouldn't you?"

"I can't do that to him," Tom sobbed.

"I think you are going to have to, Tom, or give this up. I understand that you don't want to physically hurt him, and god forbid that I should let you if you did, but a little humiliation is probably just what he wants, and it will have the added bonus of making you feel safer."

"You really think it would be okay?" Tom whispered.

"I don't think it's "okay" at all, Tom, but I don't see another alternative, to be honest."

~~~

When Chakotay returned to Tom's quarters after shift, he found, curled next to his blanket a short chain attached on one end to the door jamb and with a collar on the other.

"Tom?" he asked in query, his eyes a little frightened.

"I'm sick of you sneaking around my bedroom at night," Tom spat from the safety of his bed.

Chakotay's heart sank as he remembered Tom's terror of the night before. No wonder the poor bastard wanted him restrained instead of having to lock himself into the bathroom to feel safe. He locked the collar around his neck without complaint and curled in misery into his thin blanket.

At least, that night, Tom seemed to sleep better and although the collar bit into his neck and increased the already severe discomfort of the hard floor, for the first time in weeks, Chakotay felt a little better.

~~~

"You're obviously sleeping a little better," the Doctor said, as he gave Tom his daily check up.

Tom flushed.

"Now I feel safer, the nightmares aren't so bad, and although it sounds weird, having him there, in my room, makes me feel better. I just wish he wasn't on the floor."

"Surely you would feel equally unsafe if he were in your bed," the Doctor pointed out mildly.

"Yeah, I guess," Tom admitted. "But it's just I *remember* how cold and uncomfortable it is on a floor. It hurts me to think of him there."

"The pain and discomfort probably bring him some form of comfort, Tom," the Doctor argued.

"I know," Tom sighed.

"What about yourself, Tom? Are you having any progress with your attempts to masturbate?"

Tom flushed. No matter how many times this subject came up, or how naturally the Doctor discussed it, he found the subject humiliating to discuss.

"No," he finally admitted.

"And you haven't had another involuntary arousal, either?" the Doctor asked.

"No," Tom confessed. "Sometimes, when I'm lying there in bed, if I wake early and I can hear him sleeping, I try and touch myself. I get the desire but nothing happens."

"Perhaps you are inhibited by his presence," the Doctor suggested.

"Yeah, maybe," Tom agreed listlessly.

"Confidentially, Tom, as your Doctor, may I ask why you have not touched Chakotay?"

"What?"

"It is my understanding that Chakotay believes that he is your property, is that not so?"

"Yes," Tom admitted, blushing.

"So he would behave exactly as you asked him to in a sexual encounter. But you still do not feel physically safe enough to encourage sexual relations with him?"

"Jesus, Doc. I'm not a monster. Using him like that would make me no better than Mad Chak, would it?"

"You love each other, Tom. It's different. You both want each other, but you need to feel safe, and he has to feel guiltless. It seems to me that if you 'ordered' him to make love to you, you would both be able to have what you want."

"Yeah, well, all I can say to that is no matter how advanced you are, Doc, you're still a hologram," Tom spat. "You have NO idea of morals, do you?"

"Oh, is that the word, Tom? Morals? Well if they let two wounded people stay unhappy, perhaps I would rather not have them," the Doctor sniffed.

~~~

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Tom howled, his face flushing dark red.

Chakotay's own face deepened and he averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. He had returned earlier than expected from Beta Shift because there was a new Bridge crew starting on Gamma Shift that night and Lieutenant Wildman had arrived an hour early so that she could settle herself before her new team arrived.

Assuming Tom would be asleep already, Chakotay had crept quietly into the bedroom so as not to disturb him, and had found the pilot sitting on the edge of his bed, naked, with his cock in his hands.

Even more embarrassing for Tom, it had been immediately apparent to Chakotay that his body was not co-operating.

"Sorry," Tom repeated bitterly. "Sorry. Yeah that really cuts it, doesn't it?"

Assuming Tom was referring still to his unannounced entry, Chakotay began to reply, "I didn't mean to -"

He was interrupted by Tom's near hysterical laugh.

"Didn't mean to what, Chakotay? You didn't mean to do this to me? Do you think that helps? Do you imagine it makes me feel better, knowing that, when I can't, can't, oh fuck it," Tom finished. "What the hell do you care?"

Chakotay swayed as he understood what Tom was trying to say. Tom was impotent. Not satisfied with screwing up Tom's mind, he had screwed his body up too so that he couldn't even pleasure himself.

"I'm sorry," he repeated helplessly.

Tom looked at him in fury. What the fuck use were words like sorry, anyway? And yet, there was no mistaking the genuine anguish in Chakotay's face, either. The Doctor's words came back to him and he flinched minutely at the thought, even as another part of him said, why not? What could possibly make anything worse, anyway?

"If you were really sorry, you'd do something about it," he hissed.

Horror chased over Chakotay's face as Tom's words sank in, and yet hadn't he sworn that he was Tom's property do with as he wanted. Did Tom think that the offer of his ass would be enough to bring life back to his limp, disinterested cock? Maybe he did.

"You want to fuck me?" Chakotay asked quietly.

"What with?" Tom spat back, gesturing at his useless groin.

Chakotay chewed on his lower lip.

"Do you want me to help you?" he asked awkwardly.

Tom flushed and dropped his head before answering "Yeah," in a near whisper.

Chakotay felt sick. He couldn't see a way of refusing Tom's need, hell, he didn't want to leave Tom in this misery, yet, at the same time, wasn't this abuse of the pilot, even if he asked for it?

It was difficult to know *what* he should do, and so he decided that the only thing he could do, under the circumstances, was to keep his promise, and obey Tom's request.

He dropped to his knees before approaching, remembering the fact that Tom had said that he himself had forced Tom to crawl. It seemed the only way to do this, particularly since he was fully dressed and Tom had the additional vulnerability of nakedness.

He could see Tom shivering in a mixture of terror and anticipation as he approached, so he deliberately kept his face down turned, and his shoulders low in a gesture of humility. He knew how imposing he was physically, and in view of his previous behavior towards Tom he was beginning to believe that it was fear of him that was preventing Tom from exacting the revenge he needed.

What good did it do Tom to have him supposedly helpless in his quarters if he was too frightened to use the power he had over him? It was time that Chakotay proved that he had been serious about his offer of reparation. He would prove, here and now, that Tom had no reason to fear him anymore.

He settled between Tom's open legs and bent his head towards Tom's groin. Tom's rapid intake of breath was definitely not excitement, he realized, as on either side of his head the pilot's long legs began to tremble in terror. It was this obvious, heart-breaking fear that caused tears to well in his eyes so that he could barely see as he leant forward and tentatively licked at the tip of Tom's flaccid cock.

He heard Tom's breathing change, so he moved his tongue in a slow, lazy arc around Tom's cock head, teasing at the slit until he tasted a tiny hint of salt. Then he nuzzled deeper into Tom's lap, licking up the length of the soft shaft until he reached Tom's ball sac. One by one  he sucked at Tom's balls, making sure that his lips were gentle as they massaged.

When he finally felt them tighten a little, he returned his attention to Tom's cock and laved down it's length again. It jerked a little under his mouth's caress and he could hear Tom's breath coming in ragged gasps, yet still Tom's flesh remained limp and disinterested.

Very carefully, listening intently to Tom's breathing to judge his response, he began to use his teeth too. He worked his way over Tom's groin in a series of licks and kisses and tiny nibbles, barely letting  his teeth touch Tom's skin before releasing and moving once more.

The hard floor was beginning to grind into his knees and after a shift on the bridge, his back and neck screamed their protest at his position, but he ignored his own body's protests, intent only on teasing a reaction out of Tom's.

He had a feeling that if he let his fingers creep up towards Tom's ass, he would have more chance of causing the pilot to respond, but he refused to even try that tactic. This was for Tom, to prove that Tom's cock could still respond to its own stimulation rather than just react involuntarily to rape.

Tom's hands clutched his hair and he felt fingers massaging his scalp, their frantic movement an encouragement, so he moved down and took Tom's cockhead in his mouth. At first he simply held the glans with his lips and concentrated on fucking the slit with short, sharp jabs of his tongue.

Then, as he finally felt Tom's shaft begin to engorge, he slid a little more of it into his mouth, his tongue still busily licking at the pre-cum that was slowly beginning to ooze out of its head. Tom was shaking and gasping, but the fingers in his hair were now almost painful in their insistent kneading of his scalp, so he felt confident enough to relax his throat muscles and draw more of Tom's length inside him.

Now that Tom was hard, Chakotay began to slide his mouth up and down Tom's shaft, bathing its entire length with his hot, wet caress. Tom was beginning to jerk on the bed as though Chakotay's ministrations were sending tiny jolts of electricity through his body.

Chakotay used his hands to gently hold Tom's thighs steady so that he could continue his assault unhindered. Tom responded by pulling against the back of his head, pulling him closer so that his throat was further impaled. Something about Tom's action warned Chakotay that Tom was feeling too overwhelmed and out of control, so he froze in place and allowed Tom to set the pace instead.

Slowly at first and then with increasing confidence, Tom started to fuck Chakotay's mouth. Chakotay felt Tom trying to rise from the bed so that he had some leverage, so he slid backwards a few inches, careful to keep Tom's cock deeply imbedded in his throat and he used his hands to pull at the back of Tom's thighs until Tom was standing upright.

Then he had to keep his hands tightly against Tom's legs to brace himself as Tom began to buck his hips and thrust into his mouth with a savagery born of pure need.

Tom's sudden assault was painful in its intensity. He was violently ramming himself into Chakotay's eager throat with such abandon that Chakotay could barely breathe. He had to concentrate to keep his now exhausted mouth wide enough that his teeth wouldn't scrape against Tom's shaft.

Tom was sobbing and crying as his first successful erection in months was taking him to the bliss of an orgasm, and the sheer depth of his passion was forcing tears to stream down Chakotay's face in relief that he was, at last, doing *something* that might in a tiny way help to undo the harm that he had done.

To his disgust though, Chakotay could feel his own cock pressing painfully against his pants, and the fact that he was gaining his own pleasure from an act that was purely meant to help Tom, made him so bitterly ashamed of himself that he almost missed the signal that Tom was near release.

Tom stiffened, his thigh muscles going taut against the bracing support of Chakotay's hands, and then he screamed as he came, wailing as though months of hurt were being expelled alongside the cum that surged into Chakotay's throat.

Chakotay gulped and swallowed, willingly accepting the essence of Tom that filled his mouth with a salty-bitter sweetness, and as Tom shuddered and pumped, Chakotay suctioned at him, draining every last drop of Tom's seed with a hungry need of his own.

Tom staggered and slipped backwards to sit on the bed, his eyes glazed in his red, breathless face, and Chakotay moved forward to gently lick him clean, savoring the taste of Tom's pleasure as he lapped at the sticky remnants of Tom's orgasm.

"Oh shit," Tom gasped, when he finally caught his breath.

He looked down at Chakotay's bent head and then used his right hand to force Chakotay's chin up. He wanted to taste himself on Chakotay's lips, wanted to share his joy in his pleasure with the man who had so gently and patiently forced his reluctant body to respond.

Yet when Chakotay finally raised his face so that Tom could look him in the eyes, all Tom could see was the tears of humiliation that were spilling down the older man's face and Tom could only close his eyes against Chakotay's mute condemnation.

He pushed angrily against Chakotay's shoulders, thrusting him away angrily, his own guilt making him strike out viciously at the source of his own shame, and he fled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Chakotay regarded the locked door in misery. For a moment, as he had looked up into Tom's face he had imagined that Tom was as blissfully relieved as he was that it had worked.  Then, Tom's face had twisted as he had looked down, and remembered obviously that it was *he* who had caused Tom's problem in the first place. No wonder Tom couldn't bear to look at him.

~~~

“I’m sorry about the collar and chain thing,” Kathryn mumbled sheepishly, burying her nose in her mug of coffee but peeking over the rim to check Chakotay's reaction to her confession.

Chakotay remained comfortably sprawled in his chair in her ready room, one hand holding his own drink, the other carding absently through his hair as he thought about her words.

“It seemed out of character for Tom,” Chakotay finally replied in a mild, thoughtful voice. “I assumed someone had suggested it to him, but my money was on Tuvok.”

He gave her a wry grin and she chuckled, appreciating his sense of humor over the situation. Whatever she may have told Tom, there was no way she would have made the suggestion if she hadn't been one hundred percent positive that Chakotay would understand and approve of her idea.

“Yes, it is the sort of logical thing he would have thought of,” Kathryn agreed. “I really am sorry, but I was sure you’d understand why I gave Tom the idea.”

“Of course,” Chakotay nodded. “He’s actually managed to sleep this last week, and his response times at the helm have leapt up as a consequence.”

“Do you think that’s why I said it?” Kathryn asked curiously. “Just for Tom’s sake?”

Chakotay gave a rueful chuckle.

“I know that it is ‘primarily’ for Tom’s sake, as is this whole fiasco. You made that perfectly clear to me when I came back to Voyager and it was too late for me to go back on my word.”

“Are you regretting that decision, Chakotay?” Kathryn asked in genuine concern. Although she had clutched at the agreement between Tom and Chakotay like she was drowning and had been offered a life-raft, she was well aware that both men had deep mental scars from their joint experiences. Her only option had been to concentrate on Tom's needs and hope, by doing so, she was also addressing Chakotay's.

“In a way, I suppose, but it’s just a selfish thing. I look in the mirror and can’t bear to see my own face staring back at me. I find myself smiling or tempted to laugh at something and suddenly I feel so guilty about daring to feel happy that I want to suffer and be punished. I thought Tom would treat me badly. I *wanted* Tom to treat me badly,” Chakotay admitted.

"But Tom obviously *doesn't* want to treat you badly, and it's not fair of you to expect Tom to do something that will make *him* feel guilty, just to assuage your own feelings of guilt," she reminded him gently.

"I know that, Kathryn. Damn, I *know* Tom isn't capable of cruelty. I hoped he would at least take a fair shot at me though. It isn't natural for him to have *no* anger towards me, and between you and me, I'm pretty sure that he has lots of anger, but is simply too frightened of me, or his memories of me, to do anything about it," Chakotay confessed sadly.

“Well it comes down to whether you care more about yourself or Tom, doesn’t it? What is most important is whatever *he* needs to recover and if his idea of reparation doesn’t coincide with your expectations then its just too bad. If you are more interested in your own “punishment” than in Tom’s recovery, than you aren’t the good man that Tom swears that you are.”

“But why? Why does he want to forgive me? I just don’t know why he doesn’t hate me, Kathryn,” Chakotay replied in genuine bewilderment.

“He hates what you did to him, obviously, but understands that it was not you who really did those things. He understands that more clearly than you do. Having said that, what he believes and what he feels are obviously two separate things.”

“He’s terrified of me, Kathryn. His head might be telling him that I am safe, but his body knows better. He flinches whenever I move towards him,” Chakotay admitted with a bitter sob.

"I know,” she agreed.

“That’s why I came back, I think. The real reason. Because, when he stood there, telling me the things that I had done to him, it became clear to me that he’ll never recover until the day he can look me in the eye and not feel fear. My  death would have stolen that possibility from him. He could never have known whether he ever could stand up to me. I’m not talking about whether he can strike me or punish me, or exact payback. I mean truly regain enough confidence not to flinch at a sudden movement or cringe when I raise my hand.”

"What do you propose to do about it?" Kathryn asked.

"The chain was a start, Kathryn. It's humiliating as hell, I admit, but it makes him feel safe with me. I think he needs more of those forms of reassurance. He needs to know that I *can't* hurt him, instead of him having to simply *believe* that I won't. The dynamics of our relationship have to change."

"I'm not sure if I approve of you two even having a relationship," Kathryn admitted.

"I know, Kathryn. Try and understand though. I love Tom and he obviously feels the same way, at the moment at least. I accept that his sexual desire for me is probably just a reaction to what I did to him and that once he has recovered, *if* he ever recovers, he will probably move on. I can't pretend that the idea doesn't hurt me, it does, but after what I have done, I don't deserve him. I don't deserve anyone's love."

"Chakotay that's not true," Kathryn protested.

Chakotay just shrugged. He knew that it was and didn't want the conversation to turn into a discussion of *his* mental health. The important person here was Tom.

"The point I'm trying to make, Kathryn, is that Tom has a problem sexually now, because of me. He believes I am the only person who can help him get over that problem, and I agree. The fact that I raped him, keep him helpless and more to the point made him *enjoy* the sexual act while he was helpless, has left him literally impotent. It's my responsibility to help him get past that problem."

"Forgive my bluntness, Chakotay, but do you really think that Tom can get past his memories by subjecting you to a similar indignity?"

"Absolutely. If *I* am the helpless one, if *he* has the power in the situation, it will be a way for him to start seeing himself as strong again."

"He is strong, Chakotay," Kathryn hissed.

"Of course he is. If I had been through what he went through I would have been a quivering wreck, Kathryn. His strength, his determination to survive, his insistence that *I* survive, these are all proof of his strength. The problem is that we can see it, but he can't, and the only opinion that really counts here is his."

"I can't see him hurting you, Chakotay. He isn't the type."

"I'm not suggesting he should, although I *do* wish he would," Chakotay said with a wry grin. "I've been talking to the Doctor about this. For a hologram, he's quite an expert on sexual relationships. I'm not suggesting an abusive relationship between Tom and I. There's something the Doctor suggested. A D/s relationship?"

Kathryn looked blank.

"It's where one of the partners is clearly the dominant partner sexually, and the other is submissive. It is a consensual thing. It often is not the physically stronger person who is dominant, and it rarely carries itself out of the bedroom. All it means is that the dominant partner calls the shots sexually with the complete submission of the other partner," Chakotay explained.

"Forgive me, Chakotay, but I can't see it. Not the idea itself, it sounds fine in theory, but let's face it, there simply isn't anything submissive about you. It's obvious to me and it must be equally obvious to Tom. You can tell him, as often as you like, that he is in charge but he will just be waiting for you to turn on him or to take advantage of the situation."

"Not if he ties me up," Chakotay replied calmly.

Kathryn laughed, then realized Chakotay wasn't joking and her eyes widened.

"You seriously are suggesting that Tom should tie you up and, and, um,"

"'Um' sounds good," Chakotay replied with a small smile.

"So, you *still* want Tom to rape you as a form of payback," Kathryn spat in disgust.

"You don't understand, Kathryn. This isn't about rape, although I admit that it *could* work out that way once I am helpless. Only, since I am inviting him to do it, it isn't rape, is it? Anyway, that's not what I am talking about. I mean the idea that I voluntarily agree to some form of bondage so that Tom feels completely in control. At least until some trust is built up between us."

"AHA," Kathryn exclaimed, as the penny dropped. "This is about *you* showing trust to Tom in the hope that he will one day learn to trust you."

"You do understand," Chakotay said softly.

"I do," Kathryn agreed with a small smile. "You're forgetting something important though. In suggesting this, you are taking control anyway. You are calling the shots, creating the scenario for Tom to play in, aren't you?"

"Not if he doesn't know that I suggested it," Chakotay replied quietly.

"WHAT? You want *me* to suggest it to him?" Kathryn demanded.

"Why not? You seemed to have no problem with suggesting a collar and chain, Kathryn. What's a set of handcuffs or two after that?" Chakotay replied with a smug grin.

~~~

Tom shuffled nervously on his chair for the umpteenth time. Chakotay looked at him in concern but as soon as he caught Tom's eyes, the pilot ducked his head and pretended a fascination with his own navel.

Chakotay sighed and shifted his weight slightly to ease the pressure on his knees. His minute adjustment of position was enough to make Tom's head jerk up in panic once more. When Tom realized that Chakotay wasn't attempting to rise from "position," he relaxed again slightly and pretended to read a data padd.

Even from his location on the floor, on the opposite side of the room, Chakotay could see that the data padd was upside down. He sighed again. It was Sunday morning, he had been kneeling in the corner for two hours now and it seemed that he would spend the whole day just watching Tom falling apart if he didn't do something about it.

After speaking to Kathryn, he had also made a point of talking to the Doctor and Tuvok. He had been sure that at least *one* of the three could have inspired Tom to do something more with him than place him in the corner and then shiver as though he was sharing his quarters with a dangerous beast.

Without taking obvious control, Chakotay was going to have to force Tom to deal with him. "Topping from the bottom" was what the Doctor had called it. It was another of those things that, as Kathryn had pointed out, sounded fine in theory but was a hell of a lot harder to do in reality.

Chakotay had an idea but he wasn't sure whether he could go through with it. It went against every fiber of his being to try it at all, and it could blow up in his face if Tom over-reacted. On the other hand, it was also perhaps his best shot. 

"Tom?" he whispered quietly.

"SHUT UP," Tom shrieked, a little hysterically, his eyes darting nervously towards the door as though he might bolt.

"Tom, I need to -" 

"You need to shut the fuck up," Tom hissed back, in obvious panic at Chakotay's seeming defiance.

Chakotay took a deep breath, closed his eyes and willed his reluctant body to obey him. For a long time nothing happened as his bladder refused his summons, but eventually, the pressure in his kidneys increased as all the water that he had deliberately drunk in the privacy of the bathroom earlier began to force its way through his body.

Despite his relief when his reluctant bladder finally obeyed, Chakotay didn't have to fake the hot flush of embarrassment that stained his cheeks as Tom's nostrils flared and he looked over to see the rapidly spreading darkness at Chakotay's groin.

"Oh, Shit. Oh, Shit. I'm sorry," Tom garbled helplessly.

"May I?" Chakotay asked mildly.

"Shit, yeah. I'm sorry, Chak. I'm so sorry," Tom replied frantically.

It wasn't quite the reaction that Chakotay had hoped for. He had apparently forced Tom into the same situation enough times that there should have been at least a modicum of satisfaction in Tom's expression rather than this hand-wringing guilt. Nevertheless, it meant Chakotay had an excuse to take his clothes off, which had to be a move in the right direction.

He hauled himself to his feet, pretending to ignore the way that Tom unconsciously moved so that the sofa became a barrier between them, and he slowly walked to the bathroom. He stripped off, took a quick shower, then walked back into the living room to place his soiled clothing into the refresher, before resuming his former position on the floor.

"Wha - wha- what are you doing?" Tom choked, bug-eyed.

Chakotay looked calmly down at his own naked body.

"Assuming position," he replied mildly.

For the next hour or so, the silence between them was so thick with tension that Chakotay imagined he could cut it with a knife. He pointedly kept his eyes fixed on the carpet between his open knees so that he appeared oblivious of the way Tom's eyes were raking his body in a mixture of horror and fascination.  He could sense Tom's interest through every pore of his skin and his cock betrayed him, twitching to life and slowly engorging so that its already eye-catching size seemed to double as it filled with blood.

He could hear Tom's breathing coming in sharp, terrified gasps and Chakotay began to believe he had made a serious error as Tom shot to his feet. He looked up in panic to see Tom's face screwed up in a mixture of fear and anger.

"Bastard," Tom hissed.

Chakotay flinched slightly but met Tom's eyes.

"You like that?" Tom demanded. "Does it turn you on?"

Chakotay looked down guiltily at his own erection and shrugged in genuine puzzlement.

"It seems so," he confessed.

"Do you think it turned *me* on?" Tom demanded furiously. "Is *that* what you think? Do you think I *liked* it? Do you think I *asked* for it?"

Chakotay flushed as he heard the pain in Tom's voice.

"No," he mumbled.

Tom sat down again, his fury evident in the way he crashed his body painfully into the chair. Chakotay winced at the sound.

They were silent again for an interminable time before Tom spoke again.

"It wasn't like *that* for me," he hissed.

"What?"

Tom pointed at Chakotay's swollen cock then bit his lower lip and looked away.

"What was it like?" Chakotay asked gently when it seemed that Tom would say no more on the subject.

Something dark twisted in Tom's face and his blue eyes were dark and haunted when he finally met Chakotay's gaze.

"Don't you remember?" Tom mocked, his voice bitter and a tic dancing at the edge of his left eye.

Chakotay watched Tom's elegant fingers twisting together nervously but he said nothing, merely waiting for Tom to find words to release his obvious tension.

"No, of course you don't," Tom finally muttered in defeat. "You're not sitting there with a fucking great dildo up your ass. You don't have a leather strap cutting your cock and balls in half, and you're not scared out of your fucking mind are you? This is just a game to you, isn't it?"

"It's not a game," Chakotay replied firmly.

Tom's eyes flashed.

"You wanna *know*? Really *know* how I felt?" he yelled suddenly.

A tear trickled down Chakotay's cheekbone and dripped to the floor.

"Yes," he whispered. "Please, Tom. Help me understand your pain."

"Fuck you," Tom hissed, pulling his knees up protectively and huddling in his chair.

Chakotay watched him rock in misery and made a decision. He rose slowly to his feet and headed for the replicator, ignoring Tom's gasp of combined fear and confusion as he broke position.

"What are you doing?" Tom finally squeaked when Chakotay turned back from the replicator.  His eyes opened in shock as he saw what Chakotay was holding and he gave a nervous laugh.

"You serious?" he whispered, a little pleadingly.

"Yes," Chakotay replied.

For a moment Tom's face remained stunned and a little confused. Then the corner of his mouth quirked and he reached forward and snatched the dildo out of Chakotay's hands and went to the replicator himself. When he turned back Chakotay's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"It has to match your eyes, Chak. Didn't you know that?" Tom asked bitterly.

Chakotay swallowed and nodded quietly as he accepted the replacement from Tom's hands.

"How do I - " he began.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out. Just use lots of lube," Tom replied nastily. He turned away in dismissal and waited until Chakotay disappeared into the bathroom before he began to shake with reaction. He knew from experience that it would take Chakotay a long time to stretch himself adequately, if he *was* really serious. He hurried over to his personal console and called the Doctor.

"Doc," he whispered furtively.

"Good Morning, Tom," the Doctor replied cheerfully, determined to hide his irritation at being disturbed in the middle of a recitation of Don Giovanni.

"Shush," Tom whispered. "He'll hear you."

The Doctor's irritation vanished to be replaced by concern as Tom quickly filled him in on the morning's events.

"What am I going to do now?" Tom asked helplessly.

"I think it is an ideal opportunity for you to do what we discussed, don't you?" the Doctor replied mildly.

Tom flushed. "I don't think I can," he admitted.

"You said you wanted to do it," the Doctor reminded him. "It seems that the Commander would not be averse to the idea."

Tom swallowed nervously.

"What if he, if he, um, turns on me?" 

"Do what the Captain suggested, Tom. Put the handcuffs on the bed and tell him to put them on. Don't enter the bedroom yourself until he has done so and keep your comm. badge open. I will make sure that you are transported out of there instantly if you get into difficulty."

"You're going to listen?" Tom asked in horror.

"Tom, I am a doctor *and* a hologram. I assure you my discretion is impeccable. As soon as I know you are fine, I will sever the connection myself," the Doctor lied, deciding that his research into human mating rituals was *far* more interesting than opera, after all.

Tom's face relaxed a little at his assurance.

"Thanks doc," he whispered.

"Good luck," the Doctor replied, and this time his words were sincere.

~~~

Chakotay looked helplessly at the dildo again. He refused to let pain and a little plastic defeat him but his virgin ass was having nothing to do with his attempts to insert the rigid fake penis. Maybe he should have gone for a smaller size. He had wanted to impress Tom by choosing exactly the same size as he had apparently forced Tom to wear and his eyes watered in sympathy at what he had put the pilot through.

He had used his fingers, and most of a tube of lubrication so far, to loosen his sphincter but still the blunt object refused to enter him and he knew instinctively that if he simply forced it in to himself, the resultant tearing and blood would stop Tom from even dreaming of touching him.

Ashamed he finally accepted defeat and returned to the living room, the dildo clenched in his lube slicked fingers. Head drooping in embarrassment he stopped a safe distance from Tom and admitted, "I can't do it."

Strangely, his shame-faced admission helped Tom feel more in control of the situation. 

"Never taken it up the ass before, huh?" Tom asked, his words both mocking and oddly sympathetic at the same time.

Chakotay shook his head miserably.

"So, you're a virgin?" Tom laughed.

Chakotay's head shot up in obvious embarrassment and he swallowed a couple of times before he could swallow his pride enough to confess.

"Not technically, but since I don't remember, then yes, I guess so."

A look of stunned comprehension passed over Tom's face.

"You mean you've never, at all?" he asked quietly.

Chakotay flushed.

"I read the report. I know about, about Simon," he mumbled. "And I know what I did to you. But I don't remember any of it."

"There was no-one else? No one before?" Tom demanded incredulously.

Chakotay refused to look at him.

"No," he whispered.

"I thought you and Seska," Tom started.

Chakotay gave a bitter chuckle as he gazed at his own groin.

"We kind of did it, but she wouldn't let me, well, you know," he mumbled.

"She wouldn't let you fuck her?" Tom asked bluntly.

Chakotay shook his head miserably.

"No. No one ever did," he confessed finally. Then he looked up at Tom with eyes full of self-loathing and misery. "Maybe I *did* know what I was doing, Tom. Have you thought of that? Maybe it just all got to much for me, being a freak, never having anyone touch me, having every one look at me like I was abnormal."

"Hey, don't flatter yourself, Chak. You're not *that* big," Tom replied with a surprising attempt at humor.

Chakotay was stunned, yet again, by Tom's capacity for compassion.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, "Perhaps something a little smaller?" he suggested tentatively.

Tom's smile was not reassuring as he replied. "I'm not *that* small, Chak."

Dry-mouthed with shock as Tom's words sank in, Chakotay could only manage to nod his agreement. This *was* what he had offered Tom, after all. There was no point in complaining just because he was surprised that Tom had finally decided to take him up on his offer.

"Go into the bedroom and get ready for me," Tom said quietly, hoping his face wasn't betraying his fear.

Chakotay simply nodded and complied. He was startled to see the soft fur-lined handcuffs lain out on the bed. When he had suggested the idea to Kathryn he had imagined chains or something, not these fluffy toys. Still, it was amazing that Tom had decided to give it a try, and just because his ass was now clenching nervously now that the idea of being penetrated was suddenly becoming a reality, he was determined to make this as easy on Tom as possible.

Tom saw the way Chakotay's ass muscles were clenching and rippling in nervousness and he hid a small smile. Suddenly, for the first time in weeks, he felt better about everything. In just a little while longer he was going to have what his body had been screaming out for, but without fear, without pain.

He was barely able to breathe as he watched Chakotay fasten the cuffs around his wrists and then attach his right hand to the headboard. Then he lay down on the bed, offering his left arm upwards for Tom to complete the bondage. His cock was limp between his muscular thighs and Tom could see the rapid rise and fall of Chakotay's chest, yet still the big man was obviously willing to submit himself to whatever indignity Tom would offer, and Tom's heart lurched a little as he moved forward to fasten the other cuff to the headboard before his shaking fingers started to unfasten his pants.

Chakotay kept his eyes tightly shut, unable to look at Tom without showing his terror. He shifted his hips and opened his legs invitingly as Tom finished undressing and clambered onto the bed to kneel between Chakotay's thighs.

Chakotay braced himself for Tom's assault on his ass, expecting no more than the rude feel of Tom's cock between his legs before he was breached. Instead, he gasped as his right nipple received a teasing lick. His eyes shot open and he looked straight into blue eyes that were happy and shadow free for the first time in weeks.

Tom grinned and then attacked Chakotay's left nipple, licking and nibbling it to a hard nub. Then he traced a long, lazy swirl of kisses downwards towards Chakotay's groin.

Chakotay bucked in surprise as Tom's tongue licked down the length of his shaft.

"What are you doing?" he gasped as his cock surged back to life.

Tom dipped the tip of his tongue into the slit in Chakotay's cockhead, sending a spasming reaction back through Chakotay's groin.

"Oh, shit," Chakotay gasped.

Tom gave an evil grin and then started to tease his lips around Chakotay's now erect cock at the same time as his right hand snaked between their bodies so that his index finger could press against the loosened muscles of Chakotay's hole.

Chakotay gasped as the lube slicked finger entered him and unerringly found his prostate. The sensation caused him to buck his hips wildly once more. 

"Like that?" Tom whispered as he released Chakotay's cock from his mouth and concentrated on finding Chakotay's internal g-spot.

Chakotay sobbed in agreement, deciding that maybe the idea of Tom's cock in his ass wasn't such a bad idea after all. Hell, if Tom's finger could feel *that* good, wouldn't his cock just feel better?

Tom contemplated adding a second finger, but Chakotay's ass was so tight he wasn't sure he could do it without tearing him. No wonder Chak hadn't managed to insert the dildo. He moved slightly to get a better position and Chakotay's ass clamped painfully around his index finger in reaction. Despite Chakotay's groans of pleasure and his obvious decision to let Tom call the shots, his body was undeniably terrified .

Tom decided that it was time to get on with the *real* purpose of the bondage before Chakotay's cock lost its wonderful stiffness.

He eased forward over Chakotay's chest and moved his knees one at a time until he was now straddling Chakotay's hips. Then he reached behind himself and pulled out the fat butt plug that he had been wearing almost constantly for two days since he had discussed his idea with the Doctor.

"Tom, what are you doing?" Chakotay gasped in shock. "You can't do this!"

"Do I need to gag you?" Tom asked sweetly. "It would be a shame, 'cos I wanted to listen to you scream as you cum."

 Chakotay swallowed convulsively, but as Tom lowered his ass so that Chakotay could feel his own cockhead pressing at the well-lubed opening, his own desire was overwhelmed by panic.

"Tom, no. Please. I can't do this. I can't bear to hurt you, please To-" his words were abruptly cut off as Tom stuffed his own discarded shirt in Chakotay's mouth.

"I warned you," Tom sang happily as he sat down slowly.

"Oh shit," he gasped. He had forgotten just how thick Chakotay's cock was. He had to pause a moment, fighting for breath, his eyes watering a little. Then he felt the walls of his passage begin to relax and he slowly eased down, sparing a smile to try and chase away the terror that had flashed into Chakotay's eyes at his cry of pain.

It felt so good to be filled again like this. Made whole once more. The aching void of loneliness filled with the throbbing heat of Chakotay's cock. No fear now. No pain. Just everything he wanted without the terror that had always accompanied it before.

He slid slowly up and down Chakotay's length, feeling the delicious sensation of velvet sheathed steel as it glided easily against his own flesh, sending shafts of liquid fire through his whole body.

Tom paused long enough to release the shirt from Chakotay's mouth before he choked and then stopped the vocalization of any protests by changing his angle slightly and starting to bob up and down on Chakotay's lap.

"Oh, Spirits, Tom. That's ughh, oh shit, you're aggh, oh FUCK!" Chakotay howled, tears streaming down his face as the younger man thrust himself up and down his length, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Please, Tom," he gasped. "Release my hands."

Tom froze, his eyes flashing open in a combination of terror and dread.

"Let me touch you," Chakotay begged, his eyes riveted on the hardness between Tom's own thighs.

Tom followed his vision and gave a blinding smile as he seemed to notice his own erection for the first time.

"No," he purred, leaning forward so that he could support and control his weight on his right hand, while the fingers of his left wrapped around his cock and he began to stroke it in rhythm with his own rise and descent on Chakotay's shaft.

Chakotay gave up all pretence of self-control, beginning to lift his hips to meet Tom's descent and humping desperately against the tight hotness of Tom's ass. He had never felt anything so wonderful, or at least couldn't remember feeling it, as the warm caress of Tom's internal muscles.

He relaxed and embraced the sensation, understanding that *this* was what Tom wanted, to be fucked, not to fuck, but to be in control.

"No fear," Chakotay whispered in complete understanding at last.

Tom looked down on him, his eyes sparkling with undeniable love.

"No fear," he agreed and he smiled.

As he saw Chakotay's answering smile, the last of Tom's reservations left him. He increased his pace, so that he could focus on nothing but the feel of Chakotay's cock inside him as he fucked his own fist in tandem. He came with a scream, his cum spilling over Chakotay's chest in pearly ribbons, and his ass clenched tightly on its invader, forcing Chakotay to his own climax.

Chakotay came with a roar as the pain/pleasure of his own completion drove him over the edge and he bucked wildly into Tom's now docile ass until he could feel the sticky warmth of his cum filling the exhausted blond whose head was now collapsed on Chakotay's chest.

"Why?" he asked when he finally caught his breath and the enormity of Tom's gift overwhelmed him.

"I guess no one else fits anymore," Tom replied, and it was only half a joke.

"I'm so sorry, Tom," Chakotay started.

Tom quietened him with a deep, breath-stealing kiss.

"I love you," Tom told him when they finally broke apart.

"But you fear me," Chakotay told him sadly, pulling a little at his restraints for emphasis.

"Do you mind?" Tom asked solemnly, his eyes a little ashamed as he looked at the handcuffs.

"I only mind because you find them necessary Tom. I don't deserve your trust and I don't expect it. I will do anything you need me to do to prove that I trust *you* though."

"We're okay then?" Tom asked nervously, as though he was now wondering whether he dared release the handcuffs.

"What you just did, what *we* just did, was the most wonderful thing that I have ever experienced, Tom Paris. Thank you," Chakotay assured him.

"So, you really were a virgin, huh?"

"Yes," Chakotay admitted, blushing furiously.

"I think we should work on your other virginity," Tom mumbled into Chakotay's navel.

"What?"

"A chocolate brown butt plug. Nice and small, at first, so you can wear it under your uniform. I like the idea of that when you're on the bridge behind me."

"You're worried about me coming back onto Alpha Shift tomorrow, aren't you?"

"You scare the shit out of me, Chak. I sit there at the helm and I can smell you behind me."

"I smell?" Chakotay asked in mock indignation.

"You smell good," Tom reassured him, giving a lick to Chakotay's still dripping cock. It lurched in response. "Forget it, my ass can't take any more," Tom snarled at it.

"Did I hurt you?" Chakotay asked, his eyes filling with horror.

"YOU didn't do ANYTHING to me," Tom snapped furiously. "I did it. It was ME."

Chakotay dipped his eyes in apology.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Look, Chak. I'm fucked up. We both know that. You want to help. You want to have a big guilt trip and make yourself feel better. Well, tough shit. I don't want your help. I just want your cock, okay?"

"Okay," Chakotay replied solemnly. "Consider it yours."

Tom's eyes narrowed in fury and he stiffened, only for him to just as quickly give a gulp of laughter and he smiled, his temper suddenly extinguished.

Chakotay released his pent up breath and relaxed a little.  He was walking on eggshells with Tom, but he was beginning to understand that Tom couldn't cope with his constant apologies and kicked-puppy expressions. Tom dealt with stress with acerbic wit and it would be better for Tom if Chakotay tried to do the same.

Otherwise, he was doing what Kathryn had accused him of, ignoring Tom's needs in favor of his own. No apology could ever be enough, so maybe it was time for him to stop wasting his breath demanding a forgiveness that Tom couldn't possibly give. Tom didn't want to dwell on the past, he wanted to move forwards, heal and face the future.

"So what *do* you want to do with your new cock, Tom?" he asked lightly.

Tom's head reared up in disbelief to look into Chakotay's gently mocking eyes and he gave a small smile of appreciation.

"Wanna go play some pool?" he asked tentatively.

Chakotay maintained a straight face as he replied. "Like you said, Tom. It's not *that* big."

Tom barked with genuine laughter and climbed off the bed. Chakotay noted sadly that Tom took the time to clean himself and dress once more before releasing Chakotay's restraints, as though he needed the protection of his clothing before he would feel safe enough. He made no comment though, simply walking to the bathroom to do his own ablutions.

He dressed casually and met Tom in the living room.

"I forgot to ask," he said with studied nonchalance.

"What?" Tom asked nervously.

"Did you want me to wear a butt plug to Sandrine's, or do you think you can kick my ass sufficiently without one?"

For a moment, Tom froze in terror and then a slow smile crept over his face.

"How are your rations, Chak?" he asked softly.

"Very healthy," Chakotay replied with an answering smile.

"Then get ready for the ass-kicking of your life," Tom smirked, and if his confident smile was a little forced, Chakotay saw no need to comment on it. He prepared himself to be well and truly humiliated at pool.

"Lead on," he grinned.

Tom's high-wattage smile dimmed a little.

"After you," he said with a pretence of casualness.

Chakotay winced a little but nodded and led the way out of Tom's quarters so that Tom wouldn't have to turn his back on him.

~~~

"What the fuck are you playing at, Tom?" Harry hissed as he slid into the vacant space on Tom's right.

"Pool, Harry," Tom mocked. "Have you forgotten the name of it already? Now you have other things to occupy your spare time, I mean." He dipped his head significantly at the end of the bar where B'Elanna was sitting, her own eyes narrow with suspicion as she watched her boyfriend and ex-boyfriend talking.

"You're playing pool with *him*, Tom," Harry snarled. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Tom flinched a little under Harry's scrutiny but attempted a casual shrug as he reached for the two beers that Sandrine had placed on the bar for him.

"Butt out, Harry. Go fuck your 'girlfriend' or something. It's nothing to do with you."

Across the room, Chakotay stiffened in fury. He didn't blame Harry for the way he felt about him, but it was obvious from Tom's stiff posture and angrily flushed cheeks that Harry was upsetting Tom and Chakotay had a damned good idea that *he* was the topic of conversation. He hesitated to approach though. A show of temper would only seem to prove Harry's wariness of him and might frighten Tom. So he seethed in impotent concern and watched the two men argue at the bar.

"Tom, I'm your friend," Harry said quietly.

"Some friend," Tom hissed. Then he flushed slightly as Harry's eyes went wide with hurt. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair. You were always a good friend to me until, until -"

"Until *he* deliberately drove us apart, Tom. I admit I was selfish. I thought about my career, I even admit that my feelings for B'Elanna played a part, but ultimately the reason you and I fell out was Chakotay," Harry replied.

"I know," Tom acknowledged sadly.

"Can we, I mean, do you think we, hell, I mean, could we be friends again, Tom?" Harry asked hopefully.

"I don't know, Harry. Can *you* accept that Chakotay and I are together?" Tom replied.

"Together?" Harry gasped in complete disbelief. "As in *together*? Shit, does the Captain know about this?"

"And if I said no, would you run and tell her?" Tom demanded.

"Yes I would, dammit. He's dangerous Tom," Harry insisted.

"He was ill. He's better, and the Captain *does* know, so don't waste your breath," Tom hissed.

"He's better? That's why you flinch whenever he comes near you, is it? I've been watching you, Tom. Every time you take a shot you check that he isn't standing behind you. How the hell can you get "together" with someone who scares the shit out of you?" Harry asked, his voice dripping with outrage.

"I love him," Tom replied firmly. "None of the rest matters. We'll work it out."

"Damn it, Tom. It doesn't make sense. Okay, I accept that Chakotay was ill, but how am I supposed to believe he is better and that you are safe when you obviously don't even believe it yourself?" Harry demanded.

"I *do* believe it, Harry. I just, hell, I just get flashbacks, you know? It's not about Chakotay, it's about Mad Chak. I know they aren't the same person," Tom said defensively.

Harry looked at Tom nervously. It worried him immensely that Tom was trying to separate Chakotay's current persona from his previous one in such a fashion. It didn't seem at all natural to him. Surely it only proved that Tom was still psychologically scarred by his experience, and if so then his current fascination with Chakotay was based on those scars, not genuine feelings of affection.

"How the hell can you forgive him, Tom, after all he did to you?" he demanded.

Tom shrugged.

"The same way as I forgive you for running out on me, and shacking up with my girlfriend I guess," he replied nastily.

Harry jerked as though slapped by Tom's words. His own feelings of intense guilt caused him to respond with uncharacteristic spite.

"She wasn't your girlfriend, Tom. You'd finished the relationship yourself by letting Dalby fuck your ass, if you remember." 

Chakotay lurched forwards as he saw Tom's fist fly unerringly into Harry's face, felling him to the ground. Then he froze again, grinding his teeth in frustration. This was Tom's fight, he reminded himself. Tom wouldn't thank him for interfering, even in the capacity of First Officer. Unless the fight escalated, he would stay out of it.

Harry had hauled himself back to his feet and had launched himself at Tom, but as far as Chakotay could see, neither man was really hurting the other, they were just letting off some much needed steam. A few bruises would heal faster than the hurt Tom would feel if Chakotay implied he was incapable of looking after himself by interfering in the fight.

No sooner had he made the decision than he saw B'Elanna rising from her seat, so he swiftly crossed the room to prevent her joining the affray.

"Stay out of it, Lieutenant," he snapped.

"They're hurting each other," she protested. Then her eyes narrowed. "Not that Tom getting hurt would bother *you* I guess," she added viciously.

Chakotay ignored the deep pang of guilt that struck him as he absorbed her words.

"They're friends, B'Elanna. Tom needs a friend. If this will let Harry and him come to an understanding again, then a few bruises on both sides will be worth it."

"Tom's lack of friends is your fault, Chakotay. You loaded the dice against him before he even set foot on this ship and because everyone wants to protect you, everyone thinks he had a fucking nervous breakdown and are avoiding him like a plague. But you know what I really can't forgive you for? I loved him. I really loved him. Did you know that? Did you understand that when you broke us apart?" B'Elanna demanded, her dark eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry," Chakotay offered helplessly.

"Sure you are. That's why you still have your claws in him, isn't it?" B'Elanna accused bitterly.

"You want him back?" Chakotay asked in surprise.

"It's too late," she spat. "You won, okay? They say you were crazy. I don't believe it. You were crazy like a fox. You got what you wanted, didn't you? How fucking crazy is that?"

"I didn't get what I 'wanted', B'Elanna. I didn't *want* Tom to be walking around like a shell-shock victim. I don't want the man I love to flinch every time I go near him. I don't fucking *want* to spend the rest of my life feeling sick with guilt for doing things that I don't even remember doing, things that I can never put right."

"You should have killed yourself, Chakotay. That was what your honor demanded. You're a coward," she spat.

Chakotay reeled with hurt. Yet, he understood that she wasn't talking now as a spurned lover, but as a Klingon, for whom honor was more important than life.

"I would be a coward if I *did* kill myself, B'Elanna. It's what I wanted to do."

"What stopped you?" she demanded.

"Tom did. He needs me, B'Elanna. I don't deserve him. I don't deserve for him to need me. But he *does* need me, and I won't turn my back on him," Chakotay replied softly.

"You can't make things right, Chakotay. You can't undo what was done."

"I know, but maybe I can make his future better. I took away eight years of his life and I owe him at least an equal amount of my own life to try and right the wrongs that I did."

"And what then, Chakotay?" B'Elanna demanded. "No, don't tell me. By then you and he will be an *item*."

"Maybe. Or maybe he'll heal and move on without me," Chakotay said sadly. 

"I really think we *should* stop the fight, or there will be nothing left to move on," B'Elanna replied acerbically.

Chakotay shook his head.

"They're okay, look," he replied, nodding to where Tom and Harry were now cautiously circling each other and trading insults rather than punches.

"How do you figure that?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because, any moment now, Tom is going to laugh," Chakotay replied quietly.

B'Elanna looked at him in disbelief.

Harry watched Tom's right hand warily. His jaw and ribs were already aching from its surprisingly strong punch.

"I never said you were mad. I said you were out of your fucking mind. It's not the same thing," he hissed defensively. "It's not an insult. It's true. You *are* out of your fucking mind."

And Tom laughed.

"Yeah, I guess I am," he agreed finally.

Harry looked at him in hesitant hope.

"Forget it, Harry. Take me *and* Chak or call it quits," Tom warned.

"You really mean that, don't you?" Harry gasped, massaging his sore rib cage.

"Yeah," Tom replied firmly.

"I can't deal with him, Tom. Not yet. I look at him and I not only remember what he did. I remember what I *didn't* do and I am so ashamed of myself that I want to die."

"You saved my ass, Harry. Remember? You broke into Mad Chak's quarters and saved my ass, literally. Don't you think that makes up for everything? I do."

"You do?" Harry asked in disbelief

"Yeah," Tom answered softly.

"So why the hell did you just beat the crap out of me?" Harry whined.

Tom grinned.

"Because I'm out of my fucking mind, remember?"