Fire and Rain- VOY, C/P, R, CD
by Debra Fran Bakeremail@example.com
This was my first piece of fanfic.
WARNING : Character death
DISCLAIMER: Voyager, et al, belongs to Paramount.
"Sweet dreams and flying machines/in pieces on the ground."
I‘d always known life wasn‘t fair, but this was the hardest thing I‘d ever had to face. Harder than losing father, harder than leaving Starfleet, harder than adjusting to being 75 years away from the home I‘d left Starfleet to defend. We had just started our lives together, my golden man and I, and now it was over, and I had to face those years, wherever they would be spent, alone.
I fell in love so slowly I don‘t know when it began. After New Earth, Kathryn and I had fallen into an easy friendship, and months later, she spent her time with a member of the science team, one who was not in the chain of command. I was so happy for her, and glad the conflicts of duty and desire were over. I was able to let my feelings towards Tom - beautiful Tom - come to the surface.
Our old animosity began to disappear as Paris showed himself to be loyal and competent. It took time for me to get over over my anger at the Tlaxian/Kazon scam, when Janeway and Paris lied to me so that they could find the spy for the Kazons. I thought about what it took for Tom to pretend to be so bad. He‘d been happy as Voyager‘s top pilot, and at achieving his field rank. It was as if he were redeeming himself, and now he had to go through that act that confirmed every negative feeling I had had for him.
But that was months and a stint on New Earth ago. We were gone from Kazon space, and all I could see was his blond head at the helm and think about the man who owned it. Not just about his physical beauty, but his loyalty and the pain in those blue eyes that never went away, not even when he flirted with Megan Delaney. Could he ever see anything in a middle-aged man? In a man in general? Or had that been taken care of in prison? Prisons had come a long way since the horrors of previous generations, but some things never change. No one had to tell me that.
I did have some hope - I noticed him staring at me in the mess hall, and he seemed to go out of his way to stand close to me. I could almost feel a connection - and I became determined to find out if it truly existed. I prayed it did.
I chose a day that was perfectly calm - no alien ships in the foreground, no equipment breakdowns in the background. Nothing that would challenge either of our attentions. I‘d spent the day trying not to get caught staring at Tom. As luck would have it, he and I were alone in the turbolift at shiftchange. That was almost too much to bear. If not now, when?
"Do you have plans for the evening?" Paris looked startled at first, but then he grinned that grin.
"Nothing I can‘t change...sir."
"Would you join me for dinner .. in my cabin?"
Paris‘ grin changed into a shy smile, and his face turned deliciously red, but he aimed those sapphire eyes straight into mine as if they were phasers. Quickly, just for a moment, he touched his fingers to my cheek. It was like an electric shock through my body.
He didn‘t say anything - he just nodded.
My voice sounded rough to me. "Two hours, then. Casual dress. No uniforms."
I was as nervous as a teenager on his first date. I cleaned and straightened my cabin over and over again. I even changed clothes twice before settling on tan linen trousers and shirt and a black embroidered vest. If my hair had been as long as when I was a teenager, I‘d have braided and rebraided it. I grinned at the memory.
Tom knocked on my door right on time. He was so beautiful in his soft black sweater, even with the apprehension in those blue eyes. I didn‘t know what he was worried about then. I held out my hand in welcome, Tom took it and held it, let me draw him in. Once again, that small contact felt like we‘d closed a circuit.
We sat down together on my couch, still holding hands. Neither of us wanted to let go, not even to pick up the drinks I set out on my table. I began to stroke Tom‘s hand. Nothing had ever felt so right. Tom put his other hand over mine.
"I can‘t believe you feel this way,...Chakotay." His lips caressed my name as much as our hands caressed each other.
"You are brilliant and competent and loyal and beautiful. Why shouldn‘t I feel this way?"
"Because you could have had her, and because no one has ever loved me like this."
"No one? Ever?" I was shocked. Could the universe be that blind?
"People have wanted me - men, women, fellow prisoners, fellow Maquis, fellow classmates, my f.." Tom stopped short and reached for his neglected drink. He nearly knocked it over, but recovered in time.
I didn‘t know I could ever get that angry. I couldn‘t believe that this had been permitted to happen. How could I have let it happen on my ship in the Maqui? Why didn‘t the Academy notice? And who let him stay in that home? Did anyone know?
"Don‘t get upset, Chakotay. It doesn‘t matter. Whatever they did to my body didn‘t matter. They never got me." And the mask came down again, but his eyes never changed. I‘d never seen so much naked pain. "Now, you, on the other hand...I think I wouldn‘t care what you did."
I knew then that until I could make those eyes light up with joy I would avoid any reminder of past pain. It would be worth the wait.
"Good. I want to serve you dinner."
We spent the elegant Italian-style dinner talking about my family - how close I‘d been to my father, how much my nieces and nephews meant to me. I needed to let him know that real loving families existed. I spoke about how my best friend had become my first love, and how I‘d realized that I was attracted to both men and women, but men more. My feelings for Kathryn had been an exception, but she was exceptional. And she couldn‘t compare to Tom.
Tom said very little, but he did talk about his own self-discovery, and how his father had been so disappointed that his only son would never give him grandchildren. And how he‘d begun flirting with girls as a form of protection. He didn‘t say what they would protect him from, but I could guess. Clever ruse.
That night ended with me kissing Tom good night by his own cabin door. Tom‘s sweater felt as soft as it looked. I could feel the firm body beneath the wool as much as I could feel the passion in Tom‘s tongue and my own body, but it wasn‘t nearly time yet. I also felt a hesitation and an unfamiliar awkwardness about the way he kissed. I wanted him, but I needed to take this slow - build a relationship, maybe begin to help heal all those pyschic scars - before consummating this. Consummate - like a wedding. Perhaps I‘d marry Tom first, I‘d thought. Tom would need that commitment, and I wanted it.
I wanted to have him as part of my life, and to be part of his, when he was ready to accept it. I cursed the uncaring and unloving past that made it necessary for me to wait for all of that, but I could be patient for Tom.
Just as I‘d thought that, Tom broke the kiss.
"That was wonderful."
"I‘ve never been kissed before, Chakotay. I‘m glad you were the first."
That explained the awkwardness. It also told me that none of those people who‘d wanted him ever concerned themselves with his pleasure. That would change when the time was right.
Despite my resolutions, my bed was very lonely that night, and I suspected Tom‘s was as well. But breakfast - that was wonderful (it was even edible. Neelix‘s cooking was starting to get closer to my tastes.)
I spent it staring into pools of blue, and holding Tom‘s free hand. Yes, everyone had noticed, but I didn‘t care. We didn‘t care. Also, I knew that if I‘d acted the least bit ashamed or embarrassed, or even discreet off-duty, Tom might take it to heart. He was too fragile now for me to risk hurting him in that way, or in any way.
Besides, I‘d landed the most elusive fish on board. Not bad for an old man. I felt like showing off my pretty love. I felt like shouting it to the universe, but I confined myself to nuzzling his hand.
Janeway gave us a smile when the turbolift doors opened with us still holding hands. They let go before entering the bridge. That was not subject to negotiation - the captain would expect proper behavior on duty, and Tom agreed. Harry did give Tom a thumb‘s up. I was glad to see that - I knew Tom confided in his friend, and my pretty one needed all the support he could get.
Even so, that first duty shift had not been easy. I‘d felt Tom‘s proximity more now than ever, and when I relunctantly left the bridge for duties around the ship, I heard the whispers. As the cliche‘ went, only gossip reached Warp 10.
Some seemed approving, but others did not. Some were opposed to homosexuals and/or homosexual relationships - I heard that from former Maquis, who were shocked that one of "them" had actually commanded them, or that "they" had been allowed in Starfleet. Others saw the disparity in our ages and positions and though we were using each other - I wanted easy sex from the ship‘s "slut" (little did they know he‘d never actually done more than flirted since coming aboard), he wanted to "sleep his way to the top." The best of those thought the use was mutual. There were even bets on how long the relationship would last. The longest I heard was a month.
The only way to counter these was time. This would last a lifetime - I was sure. At least, my lifetime. That was one advantage to loving a younger man. Besides, I didn‘t like short-term relationships. Sooner or later, this one would lose both its novelty and its shock value. The crew would adjust to it and then ignore it. And if the captain confirmed it with a wedding, that would help.
The next few weeks were wonderful and frustrating. Wonderful in that my pretty love and I learned about each other. Slowly, Tom opened up about his past, discovering that he could trust me and that nothing he could say would make me love him less. It took him so long to realize that. However, the more he revealed, the more care I took in advancing our physical relationship, and that was frustrating as hell.
My childhood memories have always been a source of joy and strength for me. My academy days were full of challenge and friendships. Tom‘s memories were so very different. My anger at those who had abused or neglected their responsibility to this rare and special person grew with each memory that he revealed to me in that heartbreakingly dull, emotionless voice while his eyes became dead stone. It didn‘t help that I was among those people, and all I could do was hold Tom in my arms. He was so beautiful, and that beauty was a curse.
He‘d already learned to use it, use his body, as an item of trade when he‘d arrived at prison. It enabled him to survive, to avoid beatings, to get good assignments and special favors.
"It didn‘t matter what I felt, Chakotay. They would have gotten me anyway. At least this way I could get something out of it. At least there is one thing I‘m good at."
He‘d had some lessons aboard my own ship in the Maquis. This is something I should have known about. He wasn‘t there a long time before Starfleet caught him but I would not have permitted any such abuse and harrassment aboard my ship. A captain is supposed to know everything that goes on on his ship, and I failed. And Tom paid for my failure.
"No one knew but me and ... them. I‘m good at keeping secrets. I still am."
I resolved upon hearing this to find out what was going on Voyager. Was there someone on this ship I needed to hurt badly? Or, more importantly, protect?
"I learned to keep secrets early. I‘d let something slip in the Academy about my preferences, and that my father would not be happy. Some upperclassmen apparently thought that that made me fair game for blackmail. I paid, the same way I paid for favors in the prison, and for my safety in the Maqui. Secrets, whoredom, piloting. That‘s what I learned in the academy. I was a good student - better than my grades would show. Oh, that made my father mad. I should have been best in my class. I probably could have been, but he couldn‘t touch me while I was there. Middle of the range suited me just fine, and no one expected better from an admiral‘s legacy any way."
When Tom spoke about his father, his eyes went from dead stone to blue fire. How could that man have been allowed to command a starship when he couldn‘t even be trusted with his own son?
He‘d been the first. When Tom had told him of his homosexuality, he‘d all but gone mad. He‘d dragged Tom to his own bedroom and taken him, telling Tom he give him what he wanted. And this went on night after night until Tom discovered if he pretended he liked girls, if he flirted with them and dated them, his father would let him be, but if he so much as looked at another boy his father would not only rape him, he‘d beat him as well. So he began to keep secrets and play games. Sex to Tom meant pain and humilation, not joy and pleasure. Much as I wanted to sleep with him, to touch him, I didn‘t dare.
Not yet. I had to content myself with teaching him how to kiss - at least that brought back no memories of pain. At least that belonged to us and not them, or him.
Him. Tom‘s earliest memories were of his father beating him because he was "bad". That‘s when he‘d learned not to cry. If he cried, his father would just hit him harder. He was clumsy, he said the wrong things, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. So he "needed" to be punished. Especially since it was his fault his mother left them. Tom believed this. And he also believed that he deserved everything bad life gave to him. And all I could do was listen to that dead voice. And tell him that he was loved and needed and safe on Voyager, safe with me. I could tell he didn‘t believe me, but I could also tell he liked hearing it, so I kept telling him. I tried to get him to talk to someone, but he refused. He wasn‘t ready to tell anyone else his secrets.
Finally, one night we were in Tom‘s cabin, eating ice cream and playing old-fashioned 2-D chess.
"This is nice." Tom licked caramel ribbon off his fingers.
"The chess or the ice cream?"
"Being with you, Chakotay. I‘m so happy when I‘m with you."
I moved next to Tom and kissed him.
"I‘m so glad. Your happiness - you - you are the most important thing in my life."
"I don‘t want it to end."
"It doesn‘t have to end. It can be forever. If I have any say in the matter, it will be."
"Of course it will end. We‘ll get back and my father will do something to tear us apart. Or you‘ll finally meet someone better."
"Tom, there is no one better. I had a Jewish roommate in the Academy. He said that Jews believed everyone has a mate determined for them when they are born. It‘s called bashert. You are meant for me."
"But when we get home and you get a real choice...?"
"I don‘t want to get home. I don‘t need to go home. I used to miss blue skies, but I don‘t anymore."
"You don‘t? The holodeck isn‘t enough."
"No. But your eyes are. I have blue skies whenever I want them now."
Tom began to cry for the first time since he was very, very small.
I held him. I could feel my love‘s sobs against my chest - deep, wracking sobs - a lifetime of tears. I murmured little reasurring phrases, telling Tom I was there, that I loved him, that no one was ever going to hurt him. Inside, though, I was rejoicing. Not for his pain, but for the fact that the wall was crumbling.
Finally, the sobs stopped, and I guided him to his bed and undressed him. Tom asked, no, begged me to stay that night - and I was not willing to let Tom be alone in that state. So I got undressed and climbed in with him, holding him closely. We fell asleep that way. I didn‘t know what the morning would bring, but I knew things had changed for the better.
The next morning, our bodies reacted before we were fully awake, holding and caressing each other, kissing each other. Tom came to consciousness first, and apparently decided it was too nice to stop. He‘d taken to kissing well - I was a good teacher. When I became fully awake, I made the kisses more passionate.
That morning, I‘d begun, with all the patience and gentleness I could muster, to teach my pretty young lover how to accept pleasure and how to return it and to show him the difference between a gift and a theft, and what it means to make love. The lessons took time, but by the time the crew stopped whispering entirely, we knew each other‘s bodies as we knew each other‘s minds - not perfectly, just enough for me to anticipate learning more throughout the years we‘d be together.
Our relationship began to change. Until that point, we spent all our free time together, as much as duty would permit. We let no one else into our closed little world. As Tom became more relaxed, we began to socialize as a couple. And Tom decided he could and should talk to a counselor. The best person for that job was Captain Janeway. We asked and she was happy to take him on. As time passed he began to blossom. That sarcastic mouth never quite went away, but he became more open, more ready to accept affection from his friends.
Six months after that ride in the turbo lift, we moved into larger quarters together. I got our circle of friends to help us organize files and pack belongings into boxes. Then Be‘lanna beamed everything into the new cabin. As I began to unpack, I noticed something.
"Tom? Where are all your things? Most of the boxes here are mine."
"Mine are right here." He pointed to two or three plastic crates labeled "Paris." "How come you have so much? You had nothing when you came aboard Voyager."
"Things help to make a place home. I replicated some things and others I got from many of the planets and cultures we‘ve seen. This way I have memories."
"Who wants memories?" He grinned wryly. "Nothing but trouble if you ask me. Actually, that entire box is filled with holos and holodeck programs of all those places. As for home - that‘s you, big guy, not a place."
"I feel the same way, pretty one, now." I had been going to wait until dinner and champagne, but I had a better idea. He was on the floor unpacking some books. I sat down next to him and took his hands in mine. The electric current was gone, but the warm feeling that took its place was infinitely better. Tom‘s grin widened and he began to breathe rapidly.
"Thomas Eugene Paris, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, where ever it is. Will you marry me?"
"You mean it, don‘t you?" I nodded. "Yes. I love you, and I don‘t ever want to be without you. I will marry you, Chakotay." Then he fell into my arms and we began to celebrate.
We consulted with Kathryn and Neelix and the maps and picked a date that, we hoped would be free of conflicts. The whole crew helped us plan the celebration. This time the only whispers I heard were expressions of approval.
A few days before that date, we found a promising planet for resupply. Tom volunteered to pilot the shuttlecraft for the foraging crews. There‘d been some bad weather in the offing, but they would have time to fill a hold or two. The transporters were offline for minor repairs, so Tom spent several hours ferrying people and supplies. Since some of that food would be used in our wedding reception, he was happy to do it (not to mention to show off his piloting ability.) He‘d told me it felt like dancing to him.
That day was amazingly fun. The air was warm in the early fall part of that planet, and there were streams of clean water, so the crew splashed and played as we gathered strange fruits that grew in those streams - Neelix had never heard of them, but they were safe to eat and quite delicious. There were newly ripened and almost ripe nuts and fruits on the trees, long sweet roots, savory leaves - even a grass that looked like it would make a nice grain if we could only wait. We couldn‘t but Kes took samples of everything so she could try to grow them. Occasionally, a non-sentient native lifeform would come by and skitter away in fear and confusion. And couples, not just Tom and me, would find moments to sneak away from the rest of the crowd. Even Captain Janeway disappeared with her friend Jack "to collect samples for the botany lab."
It took several trips to ferry all the food back up, but we wanted as much as we could get. It then took several more to get all the people on board. Finally, it was the last trip to pick up any remaining produce and equipment that might have been left behind - something Tom could do on his own. The weather was beginning to get dicey, but my betrothed thought he‘d be fine. Everyone thought he‘d be fine - after all, Tom was the best. He‘d even spent the trip down chatting.
"I‘m about to hit atmosphere. What‘s the weather like down there?"
"It‘s getting a little choppy, Tom. You sure you don‘t want to wait until the weather clears?"
"You‘ll get all wet, Tom."
"I‘ll be okay, Harry. I‘m the best. And Chakotay will dry me off."
"I‘ll meet you with hot tomato soup and a warm blanky, pretty one."
"Yes, sir! Speaking of pretty - why don‘t we hold the wedding right where we were today?"
"Because I can only perform weddings on board ship, Tom." The captain smiled. "You do want this legal, don‘t you?"
"Of course I do. I want the big guy‘s pension."
"What pension? I gave that up when I quit. You‘ll have to marry me for love."
"Good thing I love you, then. Oh, wait a minute. There‘s somethi..." And the screen went blank and silent.
"Captain, the signal from the shuttlecraft is gone." Tuvok sounded just a hair off calm. I ran to the security station and began pressing controls.
"It‘s no use, Commander. There is no signal."
Just then, Kim spoke up. He sounded like he was holding back a sob. "Captain, Commander...I‘ve found the shuttlecraft. It seems to have crashed near the gathering site. There are ... no signs of human life in or near it." I watched as Harry dissolved into tears. It couldn‘t be true. Tears ran down Janeway‘s face as she went to comfort the ensign.
Torres chose that moment to burst onto the bridge - she‘d been monitoring the chat from engineering.
"Captain, request permission to take a shuttlecraft and rescue Tom."
"There will be no rescue, B‘elanna. Tom isn‘t there anymore." The words tore my throat as I said them. I could feel my heart break. My golden man was lying in pieces on the planet along with all the plans we‘d made.
"That‘s impossible. Tom‘s the best. He‘s alive down there. I know it." She looked like she wanted to throw something. "You‘re supposed to be in love with him, Chakotay. Why aren‘t you letting me get him?"
"Because I don‘t want to mourn you as well. Check the sensor readings yourself." I sat in my chair and buried my face in my hands, but no tears came. I heard B‘elanna‘s harsh sobs as the truth could no longer be denied, and I heard Harry comfort her through his own tears.
The next few hours passed in a blur of grief. By the time the weather had cleared, the rest of the crew, even those on sleep shift, had learned the news. There was an impromtu honor guard waiting when I carried his burned and broken body home in my arms. He‘d died on impact, for which I was grateful. At least Tom hadn‘t suffered at the end of his life.
The funeral was the next day. Kes dressed Tom in what would have been his wedding clothes, saying that they had meant more to him than his uniform ever did. Janeway had offered to let me lead the services, but I declined. I would say my own prayers in private. So she stood by the capsule, Jack from sciences standing silently by her side.
The standard service was brief. She added a few words about how much she‘d enjoyed have Tom as part of her crew, and how much she would miss him. Then she called the assembled crew to attention and gave me the flag that had draped the capsule.
I just stood there like a statue, staring at the still face behind the port. I could see the Tlaxian wedding wreath Kes put on his forehead. We were both going to wear one at the wedding. Invisible was Tom‘s wedding ring. I put that on myself, grim parody though it was.
The capsule was shot into space to sound of Taps.
Janeway, voice still steady, announced that there was going to be a memorial wake in the holodeck, and that she was going to get as drunk as she could. Softer, she added, "Will you join us, Chakotay?"
I shook my head. "I need to do my own mourning practices."
"I understand. You are off-duty for the next week. I wish I could do more." I nodded at that.
The cabin was empty. Tom‘s stuff was still there, but he was gone. I wandered around the familiar rooms. There was a chip on the desk I knew I hadn‘t put there. Something made me look at it.
I was sorry I did. There was Tom, alive and happy and too beautiful to bear. For the first time since the accident, I felt tears rising.
"Hi, big guy. I don‘t know how to tell you this, but I‘m leaving you. Just until the wedding. I‘m taking Harry up on his offer. It wouldn‘t be right to wake up next to your bridegroom on your wedding day. I‘ll come by after ferry duty is over and get a few things so I can sleep on Harry‘s couch.
"I am going to miss you, lover. So it‘s a good thing we‘re getting married so this won‘t happen again. I‘m so happy we found each other. Even these few months have been the best of my life, and now I have years (I began to sob. Oh, my Tom, my pretty one!) to look forward to. I am so bad at this love stuff. Big guy, Chakotay, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You made me feel like a worthwhile human being. You, and the captain and Harry and B‘elanna, but you most of all. You started the healing of my past and gave me a future. I bless the day the Caretaker took us to the Delta Quadrant, and gave me a family and a home and you. I love you, and I‘ll love you as long as I live, and beyond."
At those words, the sound stopped, and so did my tears. Tom wasn‘t gone. His spirit was dancing in the stars, where it belonged, and it was whole and healed. And there were friends on this ship who would help me heal, too. I looked at my medicine bundle on my nighttable, and left it there. I‘d pray later.
I changed into the clothes I wore on our first dinner, brushed my hair and went to the holodeck to join my friends. My family; as warm and loving as the one I‘d left behind. The years weren‘t quite so empty after all.
Copyright 1997 Debra Fran Baker and NightRoads Associates- Debra Fran Baker firstname.lastname@example.org