Angel

ANGELBy Morticia

ANGEL

By Morticia

Part 11-14

Disclaimers see Part 1

 

TOM

Have you ever felt like your world has ended?
Like you are teetering on the edge of a huge black cliff looking
down into a bottomless pit and know that if you fall there will
never be a way to survive. Yet the pit is actually inside of you,
so there's no escape.

It's over.

He doesn't love me.

He never did.

I want to die.

 

CHAKOTAY

I don't know how it went so badly wrong. I keep
replaying the last evening over and over in my head, examining my
actions. Trying to figure out where I could have saved us.

If I could have saved us.

How could I have beenstupstupid?

I know that it's my own fault, that I have hurt
Tom beyond any hope of forgiveness.

That even in the unlikely event that he still
loves me, he will never risk letting me near him again.

 

TOM

It was my fault. I know that. I should have
just left it alone. Let him take things at his own pace instead
of making it come to a head.

We could have kept on going as we were. I could
have preserved my illusion of happiness. But no, I had to demand
more.

Typical, fucking typical.

You see, I couldn't let go of my doubts and
insecurities. I had to push him into losing control. I had to
make him prove he loved me.

I couldn't keep pouring my heart and soul into
this relationship without knowing whether he really gave a damn.

And guess what?

Big surprise.

He didn't.

 

CHAKOTAY

I was so blind, so stupid to give in to Tom's
request in the mood I was in. When I came home that night and
simply found him waiting, it should have been enough for me.

I had spent the whole lonely day staring at the
back of Bateheart's head, violently aware of the incongruity of
the sight. As appalled at black hair in place of red-gold as I
would have been by Neelix setting up a kitchen on the bridge.

Tom's absence just wasn't right. I found myself
wrong-footed all day. I kept looking up for Tom and not finding
him where he belonged. Just simply missing him. Longing to touch
him and see that sunny smile light up just for me.

By the time I left the bridge I had almost
decided to put aside my qualms and fuck Tom 'til he was
senseless. Just the thought of him made my cock struggle
impatiently inside my tight uniform. By the time I reached our
quarters I was so hot with need that I just burst through the
door.

I admit that for an imperceptible moment I
hesitated, as I registered with disquiet that he was still the
only anomalous item in my quarters. That there was still no other
mark of his existence to demonstrate his acceptance of us as a
couple.

But then seeing him, standing there in his
favourite reproduction of 20th century clothes, a loose white
T-shirt and blue jeans, with that beautiful smile on his face, I
put my doubts from my mind and sprang forward to seize him in a
long, passionate embrace.

I felt him stiffen in my arms as normal, but
instead of letting it stop me this time I sank to my knees in
front of him and ripped open the buttons on his jeans. When his
eager cock sprang out, its pale skin stretched and flushed almost
purple with the engorgement of desire, I swallowed it in one rush
like a starving man at a feast.

I had to support Tom with my hands on his firm
buttocks as he began to shake and tremble with need. Lovingly I
licked and sucked while his hands clenched my short hair and his
moans grew louder and more desperate.

It didn't take long before he came in my mouth
and I swallowed his seed with relish. Licking every last
succulent drop from my lips to show him how much I loved him.

When I heard Tom say, "Fuck me" it
was impossible to refuse. While he was still stunned and reeling
from his orgasm, I took him to the bedroom.

That was my real mistake.

 

TOM

I knew something was wrong the moment Chakotay
stepped through the door. A strange annoyed look flashed across
his face and I noticed his eyes darting around the room
suspiciously.

The welcoming smile began to slide of my own
face as I found myself looking frantically for whatever article I
had forgotten to put away.

But before I completely dissolved into panic,
Chakotay's frown was replaced with a broad smile and he jumped
forwards so quickly that I barely had time to register his
movement before his tongue forced itself between my lips,
plundering my mouth with its hot sweetness.

I felt my knees beginning to give way in a
combination of relief and desire; I stiffened to brace myself for
the wonderful onslaught.

Immediately, I felt him begin to pull away from
me and I nearly screamed with frustration, only to instead gasp
with shocked understanding as he gracefully dropped to the floor
at my feet.

I can't describe the bewildered joy that
besieged me as he began to frantically rummage in the fastenings
of my jeans, as though he was digging for buried treasure. I was
simply overwhelmed by the unbelievably erotic vision of his dark
head nosing expectantly at my crotch.

Just the sight was enough to make my cock
batter its own way out to a brief freedom before it was
immediately devoured whole into the hot wet depths of Chakotay's
hungry mouth.

Chakotay's velvet lips slid slowly up my shaft
even as his tongue teased its weeping slit with furious licks.

I felt my knees buckle again but his strong
hands snaked around me and firmly grabbed my butt. I leaned back
trustingly, letting him support my weight as I gave in to the
sensations he was creating in my groin.

I could feel the suction of Chakotay's powerful
muscles as he devoured me.

"Oh god, oh god, don't stop" I
pleaded and unbelievably he took me even deeper inside him until
I came with a scream and he swallowed until I could almost feel
myself turned inside out.

As he pulled his head away, his tongue lazily
licking the corners of his mouth, I collapsed in a boneless heap
in front of him and leant my head on his shoulder as I shuddered
to catch my breath.

"Fuck me" I begged.

That was my mistake, although I didn't realise
it at the time.

That's when I set the events in motion that
destroyed us.

But as he silently raised me to my feet and led
me to the bedroom, I was so ecstatic with his capitulation that I
never dreamt that it could go so wrong.

 

CHAKOTAY

Tom stripped quickly and jumped to lie on the
bed. His enthusiasm was contagious so I made short work of
removing my uniform and joining him. I was so hard by then that
it was impossible to stop.

I climbed on top and straddled him as he lay
there panting, flushed with desire. As I kneeled over his belly,
my cock met the bobbing head of his own.

I couldn't believe that he was ready again so
soon. The advantages of youth, I guess.

"Fuck me Chakotay" he pleaded again
and I drowned in his blue eyes.

His right hand came up and thrust a tube of
lube at me, and even as I wondered where the hell he'd hidden it,
I found myself unscrewing the top and preparing myself for him.

When I tried to turn him over he refused,
saying he wanted to watch me do it, so I hiked his knees up over
my shoulders, grasped his wrists firmly and concentrated on the
brown puckered opening that was suddenly so accessible.

Perhaps I was a little rough when I grabbed
him, but spirits, if you could have heard the way he was moaning
with eagerness! I was so careful, so controlled as I prepared
him. I was so determined to take it slowly and lovingly.

But as I entered him, his hips jerked and his
own movement impaled him. He screamed and to my shame, I lost
control completely at the sound, thrusting into him like I wanted
to assimilate his body into mine.

On and on I pounded into him, with fast furious
strokes as I gasped in time with his own whimpers and moans. The
perspiration was running down my forehead, blinding me as I
reached my climax and my own shout deafened my ears to his cries.

That is my only excuse. I didn't see. I didn't
hear. I didn't know.

It was only after I had collapsed on him and
rubbed the sweat from my eyes that I looked down at Tom's face
and saw the tears flooding from his eyes.

If I had had a knife I would have stabbed
myself in the heart then and there.

I had unforgivably hurt Tom; I had pinned him
helplessly to the bed and assaulted him just to satisfy my own
selfish needs. I had taken my pleasure as he screamed and cried
beneath me.

I had hurt this precious man who I had sworn to
protect.

I felt my whole body stiffen with cold terror
as I waited for his condemnation.

 

TOM

I was delirious as I ripped of my clothes and
threw myself on the bed. I recognised the look in Chakotay's eyes
although I had never seen it there before. It was true, blinding,
red-hot passion.

Even as he tore off his clothes I grabbed the
lube I had hidden earlier under the pillow in desperate hope.

He was finally out of control. For the first
time in days I was truly convinced of his love for me. Usually he
was so considerate, so controlled that I couldn't really believe
his feelings for me were real. But this was different. This would
be no gentle 'making-love' as though I was too fragile for true
emotion; it was finally going to be the real thing!

When I pleaded with him to take me on my back,
so that I could see his face, see him ravish me and he agreed, by
the simple act of roughly throwing my legs over his shoulders, I
was euphoric.

For a moment I was frustrated as he made a
visible effort to control himself as he entered me, so I thrust
my hips up and forced him inside. I screamed with triumph as I
felt him fill me. He must have real my my need because for the
first time ever he truly let himself go, left the
"Commander" discarded on the floor with his uniform and
revealed the animal passion within him.

I can't begin to describe how wonderful it was.
How my whole body was almost ripped apart by his powerful
thrusts. You cannot believe the bliss of knowing in that moment
that I was the vessel of Chakotay's happiness. As though my whole
life had brought me to this moment just so that I could be the
instrument of his release.

For those few minutes, as Chakotay lost himself
in me, I forgot that I was Tom Paris fuck-up and failure and I
ascended to become the alter on which Chakotay sacrificed his
control and became mortal.

Became mine.

As he collapsed on top of me, his passion
spent, his body heaving from exertion, I felt the years of
rejection fall away from me and tears of happiness flooded my
face.

For a timeless moment I believed that he really
loved me.

So when he finally raised his head and looked
at me I was surprised by his strange remote expression. Instead
of the love I expected his face was full of pain and sorrow and
loss.

I felt a cold hand clutch at my heart. I had
just shared the most fantastic, intimate experience of my life
with this man. Had given him everything I could give.

But he looked at me with the eyes of a
stranger.

Nervously, I tried to smile but somehow I knew
the expression came out wrong. So just trying desperately to
break the tension I joked:

"How was it for you?"

 

CHAKOTAY

"How was it for you?"

The sarcastic words combined with the mocking
smile broke my heart.

But I suppose it was less than I deserved, less
than the scornful accusations I had expected.

He hated me and it was my own fault.

What good would it do to beg for forgiveness
that I knew he wouldn't be able to give?

All I could do now was let him leave with as
much dignity as possible.

"I notice you've been careful to hide your
belongings," I said, my voice brittle with the strain of
keeping in my tears.

He blinked at my tone and then carefully
replied "I didn't want my presence to be conspicuous."

That's when my anger got the better of my
guilt. When I realised that he had never had any intention of
staying anyway. That he hadn't wanted anyone to know about the
relationship because it wasn't permanent.

"So since no one knows, it won't be a
problem for you to move back to your own quarters."

Tom's face was frozen with hate for a long
moment and then he snapped viciously:

"No problem at all."

He left so quickly, so quietly, that I could
only sit helplessly and watch him go.

 

TOM

I didn't understand what was going on. I
couldn't imagine what I had done to upset him this time.

When he finally answered my joke I was
completely floored by the weirdness of his reply.

"I notice you've been careful to hide your
belongings"

I think I just blinked, as confused by his
words as by the chilly tone of his voice. I remembered the
annoyed look on his face when he entered his quarters and
wondered what it was I had left on show to upset him.

Bewildered and unsure of what to apologise for,
I just replied "I didn't want my presence to be
conspicuous"

His next words were so unexpected, so hurtful,
that I can hardly bear to remember them.

"So since no one knows, it won't be a
problem for you to move back to your own quarters"

And that's when I realised. That's when I
finally understood.

He had never loved me at all.

For some sick reason he had gone along with me.
Maybe out of pity because I had thrown myself at him so hard, for
so long. That explained why he rarely wanted sex with me. I was
just a mercy fuck, after all.

If I had maintained the status quo we might
have been able to carry on but I had pushed him into a situation
where he had forgotten who he was with. I had made him forget for
a moment that it was me in front of him not his beloved Angel.

Now he couldn't even bear to look at me
anymore.

How could I have been so fucking arrogant as to
think someone like Chakotay could fall in love with me? I must
have been an embarrassment to him. Like a schoolboy with a crush.
He had tried to make me happy but had finally tired of the
pretence.

Somehow I had to pull some shred of dignity
around myself, had to pretend I could be an adult about this.

My face was frozen with the horror of rejection
but I managed to say

"No problem".

I quickly got dressed and grabbed my things. I
didn't dare speak for fear I would beg him for another chance. I
didn't look at him because I couldn't bear to see his pity or
scorn.

I just ran.

 

KATHRYN

I just knew that the relationship with Chakotay
and Tom would end in tears and unfortunately I seem to have been
right. The only good note is that they are "keeping it off
the bridge". The bitterness and backbiting that I had
anticipated has not materialised.

Although they can evidently not bear to look at
each other and their words are short and formal when they are
forced to converse during the course of their duties, there seems
no animosity at all.

Strangely, it would be better if there was. I
have two zombies on my senior staff. They are both like walking
wounded. I could cry simply at the amount of pain that visibly
pours off them both. It is though they are both in mourning.

As though someone they love has died.

They don't smile or laugh or even talk if they
can avoid it. They both do their duties, eat their meals alone
and disappear back to their quarters until the next duty shift.

I have an urge to knock their heads together.

But since that is beneath the dignity of a
ship's Captain I have instead decided to give them a break from
each other in the hope that a little distance will give them
perspective.

I don't know what has gone wrong but is obvious
to anyone who knows them that they love each other. If it wasn't
true how could they both be affected so badly by their break-up?

I am sending Tom out on the Delta Flyer
tomorrow to collect data on an interesting nebula that we passed
yesterday. Well, if it had been truly interesting we wouldn't
have just passed it by, but still, it gives me a way to get him
off the ship for a couple of days.

In the meantime I will ask B'Elanna to try and
get Chakotay to tell her what the hell is going on.

~~~

Tom left Voyager on route for the nebula this
morning and we are planning to rendezvous with him in two days.

I hope that the idea of being alone and flying
the shuttle he loves so much will at least put a dent in his
obvious depression.

As for Chakotay, I have asked him to take the
next couple of days off the bridge and catch up with his crew
reports instead.

He argued with my decision, obviously feeling
embarrassed that I do not consider him fit for bridge duty. I am
possibly not helping him with this ruling. It is possible that
the last thing he needs right now is time to dwell on his
problems.

But I have a whole ship to consider. I cannot
allow my personal feelings to interfere with my decisions. The
safety of Voyager cannot be left in the hands of a First Officer
who is like the living dead at the moment. Twice yesterday I had
to repeat my orders to him because he was too distracted to pay
attention to his duty. I cannot continue like this, it is
undermining the efficiency of the bridge.

He will have to take the time to face his
problems and deal with them. We do not have the luxury of
self-indulgence out here.

But even knowing I am right, I still feel
guilty for pushing him. I hope that our friendship will survive
my rough handling of him at this sensitive time.

I can only hope that B’Elanna will help
him to put his feelings in perspective.

 

CHAKOTAY

It is strange how empty my quarters feel
without Tom. Although there was never a single item of his on
display to declare his presence, now he is gone he haunts me. I
hear his soft laughter echoing in the corners of the room;
memories of his soft moans of passion reverberate deafeningly in
the silence.

As I sit on the couch, imagining the feel of
his soft hair under my fingers, I am constantly startled by his
presence. From the corners of my eyes I catch glimpses of his
quick smile and golden head but when I turn in desperate hope,
there is no one there.

It’s crazy, I know. He’s been gone
for almost two days and even if he was on Voyager rather than in
the Delta Flyer, I know that he would no more set foot in here
now than walk onto the bridge naked.

Although, with Tom, that’s not a
certainty.

The thought makes me laugh even as I stifle a
sob for what I have so carelessly thrown away.

If only I had talked to him.

Really talked to him.

B’Elanna came to see me today. She
admitted that Kathryn had sent her but that she was there as my
friend anyway. She is the only person I trust enough to tell the
truth to. I told her about Tom’s refusal to commit himself
to the relationship. She was stunned. Not by what I told her but
by my interpretation of the events.

I wonder whether she is right? Maybe I was
blind.

Perhaps Tom was truly only trying to fit seamlessly into my
life. To mould himself so invisibly that I
would never find him a burden.

Why have I always seen other people clearly but
always assumed the worst of Tom?

Why did I judge his actions without even
questioning them?

I even told B’Elanna what I’d done to
Tom and as I ducked my head in shame and waited for her scathing
condemnation, I was stunned instead by her laughter.

She laughed. She actually laughed and said she
couldn’t imagine anybody being able to rape Tom Paris
without a phaser rifle and a small army. That if he had lain
there and taken it without complaint then he must have enjoyed it
as much as I did.

"But he cried," I argued

"Haven’t you ever cried because you
were happy?" she replied.

I had no answer. I still don’t. Because if
she’s right, then I have harmed Tom even more than I
imagined. I have hurt him beyond bearing. I turned my back on him
at the very moment when he was crying with happiness. I made him
love me and then threw him away like used rubbish.

The very thought of it is enough to make me
ill.

 

KATHRYN

 

I was actually tapping my Comm-badge before I
realised that this was not news that I could deliver over a
Comm-link.

B’Elanna told me as much as she could
without betraying Chakotay’s confidence and I know that
whatever has gone on between him and Tom, that his love for my
pilot is real.

How could I do any less than break the news in
person?

That Tom has met with an accident in the
nebula.

That the Delta Flyer encountered a quasar and
was crushed like paper by the magnetic forces of the minute black
hole.

That we barely arrived in time to beam his
smashed body out of the wreck of the Delta Flyer before it was
sucked into oblivion.

That his spine is shattered beyond repair and
he is in a coma in Sickbay and the Doctor says that the
probability of him surviving is negligible.

That I am simply giving Chakotay the chance to
say goodbye?

 

CHAKOTAY

 

When Kathryn told me the news, I did not even
wait to acknowledge her words, I tore myself from her even as she
tried to comfort me and fled my quarters at full pelt, running to
Sickbay as though my presence alone would keep death at bay.

Even as I ran I knew I could have requested a
site-to-site transfer but the burning anguish in me demanded
action and the only way I could give rein to my emotion was to
pound through the corridors, scattering startled crewmembers like
dross in my wake.

It couldn't be true, I was screaming at myself,
Not Tom, not my Tom.

The complete futility of my efforts was brought
home as I burst into sickbay and found the Captain already there,
no doubt warning the Doctor of my imminent arrival. She met my
eyes with pity, rather than scorn at my foolishness, but as I
moved forwards to the bio-bed she placed her tiny frame in front
of me, planting her feet firmly as she grabbed my arms. I saw
tears in her eyes as she pleaded with me to calm down.

"Please Chakotay, please. Wait a moment
and listen to me. You don't want to see him like this. Believe
me. It's better if you remember him as he was. Let the Doctor
clean him up a little first, don't..."

I regarded her as though she was a particularly
vile insect. Was she MAD? Did she honestly think that I would
keep away from Tom for even another second? Did she believe my
love for Tom was not strong enough to survive his mutilation?

With complete disrespect for her concern and
rank, I physically picked her up, thrust her out of my way and
charged for Tom's side.

That's when I saw him.

Saw the twisted, broken, tangle of flesh and
bone that had once been Tom Paris.

He was an abomination. There was no part of him
that was recognisable. Even the proud cheekbones of his face had
been shattered by pressure leaving a bloody swollen pulp of torn
bruised skin. Even with the technological wizardry that held him
in stasis, it was impossible that he was still breathing.

As my body impacted against the force field
that cushioned him from infection, I collapsed to my knees and
howled my lament.

 

KATHRYN

I had made a terrible mistake. I should have
ordered a communications blackout, given the Doctor time to at
least make some cosmetic repairs, before I told Chakotay the
awful news. My only excuse is that although I knew he lovem,
m,
I had no understanding of just how intense his feelings were.

As soon as he began his panicked, precipitous
run from his quarters I realised my colossal error and
transported immediately to the Sickbay.

As Chakotay burst through the doors, lunatic
with grief, I tried to hold him back, hoping desperately that his
innate respect for me as his Captain would give me a chance to
stop his wild progress.

But he simply threw me aside like a rag doll
and charged to Tom's side where he finally collapsed on his knees
and hugging his arms to his chest began to rock in anguish. His
howls of desolation echoed through the Sickbay, their
heart-rending torment making my hair stand on end.

Swiftly the Doctor stepped forwards with a
hypospray and my jangling nerves were soothed by the abrupt
silence as Chakotay slumped to the floor unconscious.

We had no choice. The sedative that the Doctor
administered will keep Chakotay under for some hours. During that
time the Doctor can try to at least make Tom physically resemble
a human being again.

But what if he dies before Chakotay wakes?

What if I have stolen Chakotay's chance to say
goodbye, to say sorry?

Will the sight of a beautiful corpse be worth
his unending remorse? Will he ever forgive me for stealing his
last chance to make amends?

So perhaps it was my own selfishness that made
me pray desperately to the tortured body that was once my
irrepressible pilot and beg

"Hold on, Tom. Please hold on. Don't die
yet. Please don't die before Chakotay wakes up!"

 

CHAKOTAY

I should have been furious when I woke but
instead I felt curiously detached and calm. It could have simply
been the weight of grief that constrained me but I suspect that
there was some chemical assistance in there too.

Although Kathryn and the Doctor watched me
warily, they made no protest as I swung my legs off the bed they
had placed me on and stood up. I swayed a little with dizziness
for a moment before I found my balance and turned to look at Tom.
Even from where I was standing I could see the control lights of
the bio-bed flickering.

He was still alive!

I walked forwards, slowly and cautiously this
time, until I could see under the hood.

It was Tom. Still battered and bruised but
unmistakably him this time. The bones of his skull had been
knitted together to support his face. The swollen flesh had
reduced somewhat and the black bruises were faded to
greenish-yellow.

"How long?" I rasped

"Eight hours" Kathryn replied softly,
coming forwards to stroke my shoulder in sympathy. "When we
realised that the artificial lungs were working I decided to keep
you asleep until the Doctor had a chance to repair some of the
damage."

"You said that he couldn't survive, that
he would die!" I accused bitterly

"He did," the Doctor answered.
"His heart has stopped five times. Fortunately I am
programmed with numerous techniques for resuscitation."

For a moment I was tempted to strike him for
his smug pride, as though Tom's accident was no more than a new
opportunity to him to show off but his next words were more
humble.

"Of course, it is only Mr. Paris's own
will that make my efforts possible. He is showing an exceptional
desire to survive."

"Will he?" I begged hopefully

"Possibly, although I am doubtful. I
believe that if he regains consciousness and becomes aware of his
situation, the shock will be too much for him and he will cease
to fight. If he does not want to survive there will be very
little I can do."

"Why the hell wouldn't he want to
live?" I screamed in disbelief.

It was Kathryn who finally answered. Tiny
Kathryn whose heart is as big and brave as a lion.

Who else would haveod iod in front of my raging
torrent and spoken the words that ripped my hope apart?

"Tom's spine is completely shattered.
Although the Doctor can knit the bones together there is no way
to repair his spinal cord. If we were back home there would be a
chance to heal him but there simply isn't the technology on a
ship this size. We were never supposed to be more than a couple
of days from real hospitals so we were only equipped with basic
trauma equipment.

"If Tom survives he will be paraplegic,
unable to do much more than move his eyes. He will be unable to
breathe without the artificial lungs. He will spend the rest of
our journey in sickbay. If we never get home he will grow old and
die in that bed.

"I don't believe that the slim hope of
returning to the Alpha Quadrant will be enough for him to accept
those conditions, Chakotay. I think he would prefer it if we let
him die now. He may find life like this intolerable and simply
give up."

No, I couldn't accept her reasonable words. I
wouldn't accept them.

"Then he'll have to learn to cope, won't he," I snarled "Because he is going to live whether he
wants to or not. Even if we don't get home there is a whole
quadrant of civilisations out here. Somewhere we will find
someone who can cure him!"

Kathryn sighed at my refusal to face the truth.

"And in the meantime he just lies there
like a corpse, trapped in his own head? Do you honestly believe
that Tom will be able to live like that?"

I grasped furiously for a solution, for hope.

"Why can't we transfer his mind to a
holo-emitter. The Doctor has done it before. He can live outside
his body until it is better."

"The pattern will degrade if it is active
for too long. He will only be able to emerge briefly and then
will have to return to his body. It will be like being in prison
again for him, let out for short bursts of freedom before being
caged, growing always more aware of the horror of his captivity.
He will go insane."

"I won't let him," I replied fiercely.
"I will make him want to live. I will keep him alive until
we find a cure."

But even I wonder whether I am simply refusing
to face reality.

Will Tom forgive me and accept my love as an
anchor to cling onto through this nightmare or will he simply see
my love as pity?

Does he hate me too much to live?

 

TOM

 

The first couple of weeks are still a blur. I
spent most of the time either unconscious or sedated against
unimaginable pain. It was not until the third week that I
regained enough cognition to remember who I was and what had
happened to me.

The death of the Delta Flyer and the agony of
being crushed inside her kept playing over and over in my head
like a bad holo-vid. I kept questioning my actions, my choices,
my options, desperately trying to figure out what I could have
done differently.

I worried constantly that the Captain would be
really pissed off with me for destroying the best of the few
remaining shuttles.

I was vaguely aware of the Doctor's face
hovering over me that week, telling me I had been seriously hurt
as if it would come as some fucking big surprise to me. Didn't
the idiot realise I was there when it happened? Of course I knew
I'd been hurt. The only surprise to me was that I wasn't dead!

I figured that it was really bad because I was
being kept so doped up that I couldn't feel the pain anymore. In
fact, I couldn't feel anything at all from my neck down.

Time was difficult to judge in that limbo state
but I guess it was a couple of days later when I truly woke up.
When I finally realised that something was badly wrong. You see I
finally figured that if I was so bloody doped that I couldn't
feel the pain, then I shouldn't be so aware of what was going on
around me.

There was this constant stream of visitors,
Harry, B'Elanna, the Captain, even Tuvok and all the time
Chakotay hovered somewhere in the background like he had grown
roots in Sickbay for the duration.

I wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave me
alone. To take his sympathy and stuff it up his own ass. But I
couldn't because although I moved my mouth to speak, no voice
emerged. I couldn't pull the words up from my throat.

That's when I finally began to get scared.

But not really scared, I mean it's the 24th
century, if you don't die you get better, don't you? No one even
bears scars anymore as long as they get treatment quickly enough
and since I was alive, Voyager must have found me within minutes
of the implosion. So there was no reason to suppose I would even
show a scratch by the time the Doctor had finished with me.

So I figured that the Doc was milking it.
Taking his time over iriniring me so that he would be greeted
with rapturous adulation when he finally presented me back to the
Captain in one piece. I dwelt on this possibility for a few more
days, torn between annoyance at my incarceration and admiration
of his devious plot.

I even decided that my inability to speak was
part of his Machiavellian plot. He'd wanted to gag me for years.
Perhaps these thoughts were a subconscious device to prevent the
panic building in me. They certainly worked for a time, but by
the fourth week I was beginning to go insane.

I think my desperation was beginning to show in
my eyes because finally someone decided to let me know what was
going on. It was Chakotay, of course, back in his "let's
pretend to give a damn about Tom" persona, who broke the
news to me.

My first instinct was to laugh, except I was
physically incapable, but I really thought it was some kind of
sick joke. You see no one is paralyzed these days. Like I said
before, as long as you don't actually die they can always fix
you, and sometimes even if you do die they can still fix you.

So I simply chose not to believe him. I didn't
know what fucking mind-game he was trying to play with me this
time but I wasn't going to fall for it.

But as the days crept past and I stared
unendingly at the ceiling, unable to move even a micron, I
finally had to accept that it was true.

It's odd really. As I set off in the Delta
Flyer I remember wishing I could die. I thought the pain of
Chakotay's rejection was more than I could bear. But I know now
for certain that I didn't really want to end my life at that
point, that it was just a dramatic exaggeration. I'm positive,
because it is only now that I finally realise how it truly feels
to want to die. To know with every fibre of my being that there
is absolutely no point in living one more second.

Why didn't the sadistic bastards just let me
die?

~~~

St. Chakotay of the Bleeding Heart has
explained that they are going to transfer my consciousness
temporarily to a holo-matrix so that I can finally get a chance
to 'discuss' my situation.

It has been six weeks now since the accident
and I am crawling around inside my own skull like a demented
spider. For six fucking weeks I have stared at the bloody ceiling
and listened to Chakotay drone on about how sorry he is and how
much he loves me.

Yeah, sure.

I can't wait for tomorrow. The chance to
finally speak, move, see. And if they leave me alone just for a
moment, the chance to smash this fucking bio-bed and finally
escape this hell I'm trapped in.

~~~

They say 'you never appreciate what you have
until you lose it'. That's certainly true about my body. I never
once in my life considered how lucky I was to be healthy and
mobile.

Similarly they also say 'if you haven't
experienced it you don't miss it' and in a strange way that was
how I felt when I woke in the 'body' of a hologram.

Don't misunderstand me. I had done nothing for
the last two weeks but plan ways of disconnecting myself from the
life support. But it wasn't until the moment that I found myself
standing, looking down at my own smashed body from my newfound
freedom, that I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I could not
bear to be imprisoned in it for even one more day.

Completely speechless with the enormity of the
horror my life had become I looked around at the faces
surrounding me. The Captain, the Doctor, Tuvok, Harry and
B'Elanna. All of them regarding my dazed look with grief and
pity.

Oh and Chakotay of course, as if he'd miss the
opportunity to act like he gave a damn.

Before the moment of my materialization I had
imagined I would run around wildly with excitement, reveling in
movement, shouting out a torrent as six weeks worth of words came
spilling out of my mouth. But instead I just stood there, as
motionless and silent as my corpse. Because that was all my real
body was, a corpse. Remove the tubes and machines and I was dead.

"Tom?" The captain asked softly,
obviously surprised by my lack of animation, "Are you
alright?"

All right? Am I all right? I'm a fucking
hologram. My body is a fucked up piece of garbage that will never
move again and she wants to know if I'm all right?

And I began to laugh, really laugh until
holographic tears were running down my face.

The captain stepped forwards hesitantly to
touch my pretend arm in a gentle caress,

"Please Tom, try to hold on, we're doing
everything we can. We've sent messages out on all sub-space
bandwidths to ask for medical assistance."

"The Captain's right, Tom," Harry
chipped in. "And if we can't find help here we'll get home
and you'll be cured. Just don't give up!"

B'Elanna spoke up next "I'm working on the
holo-emitters, creating a stable environment for your matrix.
Soon you'll be able to spend at least a couple of hours a day on
the holodec without the risk of neural damage." And she gave
me a wide pleased smile.

I looked at her in disbelief. What did she
expect? A fucking standing ovation? I would soon only spend 22
hours out of every day trapped in a corpse and that was supposed
to make me feel better?

"We aren't going to give up on you,
Tom," Chakotay promised, and I felt myck ack and hysteria
transform into rage.

How dare he say that? He of all people. The man
I had loved more than life itself. The man who had taken me, used
me and thrown me away as unworthy even before I became a member
of the living dead.

Finally in finding my anger, I found my voice:

"Why didn't you just let me die?" I
screamed at them all and I was oddly pleased to see them blanch
at my words.

"What gave you the right to play God? Look
at me!" I ran to the bio-bed and stared in horror at my own
pallid face "I'm dead. Can't you fucking see that? "

Desperately I began to switch the life-support
machinef, of, only to be grabbed by Chakotay's strong arms before
I could do any real damage and I was dragged back to the other
side of Sickbay.

"Noooooooooooooooo!" I screamed in
desperation and then realising the complete futility of my pleas,
I sagged in Chakotay's arms.

"Tom, can't we try and discuss this?"
Chakotay whispered in my ear and I shivered with my memories of
how that soft tone had fooled me into complacency before.

As I struggled between the urge to escape him
and the terrifying knowledge that the only place I could run to
was the motionless cadaver of Tom Paris, I had to bite back my
scream of terror. I closed my eyes and prayed for the strength
not to reveal the quivering wreck I was becoming.

That's when St. Chakotay just had to speak up
again in that sickening honey-toned voice of concern:

"Is there anything else I can do for you,
Tom? Anything that will make the waiting more bearable?"

And I finally lost it, I just snapped. The
weeks of hurt and anger erupted into one damning sentence.

"Yes, Commander, you can stay the fuck
away from me!" I yelled.

As Chakotay reeled in shock at my words I
turned to the Captain, just so that there was no doubt at all of
my wishes in this matter.

"I don't want him in Sickbay. I don't want
him hovering over me like a fucking vulture. I want him to leave
me the hell alone!"

And before anyone could even begin to argue
with my decision, I switched myself off.

There was oblivion, merciful nothingness, and
then slowly I became aware of myself again. I was trapped back in
my broken body like a fly in amber. As consciousness crept back I
could hear low voices although I was unable to see the speakers.

(Since they weren't floating on the fucking
ceiling!)

"I don't understand, Kathryn. I know I
hurt him before the accident. I know I never admitted to him that
I loved him when I had the chance. But I've been here for weeks.
Every day, every night, telling him how much I need him. Showing
him how much I care. Why is he rejecting me? Why is he turning me
away?"

It was Chakotay, obviously. Whining in that
fucking "Poor old me" voice that had begun to royally
piss me off. Then I heard the Captain's reply:

"He's hurt, Chakotay. We can't begin to
imagine what he's going through. You can't just put a bandage on
his feelings and wish him better. He's so vulnerable now, so
helpless. He probably doesn't know what he wants. You heard him
beg us to kill him; he can't see the point of living. He's
obviously too unhappy right now to deal with your affection. You
will have to abide by his decision. We can do so little else for
him, we have to at least honour this choice."

"But he can't possibly prefer to be alone.
He can't really mean it." Chakotay argued in a tone of hurt
bewilderment.

I tuned the Captain's reply out since I was
certain that she would uphold my desire to have Chakotay kept
from Sickbay and I was exhausted just listening to Chakotay's
insistence that I didn't really want him to leave.

Oh yes I do, you sanctimonious bastard! That's
exactly what I want.

You can fool the Captain and you can fool the
rest of them but you don't fool me. The only reason you are
finally ready to give me your love is because you are never going
to have deal with the fact that I don't turn you on. You will
never have to bite back your disgust in order to make love to me
or pretend I am someone else just to get it up.

It's your fault I have to suffer like this.
Your bloody guilt is the only thing that makes them keep me
alive. Even the Captain would have given in and let me go but, oh
no, you want to keep me alive in this hell just to satisfy your
fucking sense of honour and I hate you for it.

I may have to live. I may have to suffer
endless years of this prison. You might be able to keep stuffing
tubes in me to force me to survive despite my best efforts to
resist.

But I'm damned if I'm going to spend eternity
watching your face as you tell your fucking hurtful lies.

As you pretend you love me.

 

Go
to Part Fifteen