Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager doesn't belong to me.  It never
did, it never will.   It belongs to Paramount

Archive: Sure, just tell me where.

Author's note: Just to let you know that in this story the HOW
things happen is not as important as the WHY things happen.

Synopsis: Amending the past is not an easy thing.

***

The horror of what had just happened didn't hit me right away as
I kept staring at those, now closed, blue eyes that reminded me of
my son's.  I couldn't understand what had just happened.  The man,
wearing some sort of uniform and with a Starfleet comm badge,
had awaken us in the middle of the night in order to save us
from a threat. However, had prevented me from saving my son.
Now this man with a familiar face was dying into my arms.

"T-Tom..." I heard Elisabeth shaken voice cry behind me.  "What
have you done?" she asked me as she frantically made her way to
my side.  "You shut our son, Owen!  You shut OUR SON!."

"Our son?" I echoed confused.  What was she talking about?  Had
she lost her mind?  "Tom!" I called to my youngest child, hoping
with all my will that he was still alive.

I saw him come out of his bedroom guided by the woman that I
had seen aim a phaser in his direction moments before.  The
instant Tom was freed from the stranger's protective embrace, he
ran as quick as he could toward us and came crashing into his
mother's arms.

"Danya killed a bad lady in my room," young Tom explained to his
mother and me.

"Danya?" I asked looking up at the stranger who was coming our
way.  Her eyes were fixed on the face of the man I was still
holding.  As she came closer, I could see tears running
down her cheek.

"She's a friend of the family," Tom answered my question.

"Yes, she is," Elisabeth told our son before kissing his forehead
one more time.

Danya knelt beside her fallen companion.  "Tom..." she said
painfully.

"I'm here, Danya," my four-year old tried to comfort her.

"I know, Sweetie," she replied, smiling back at him.

She quickly brushed her tears away before looking back at me with
cold dark eyes.

"We lost time, we have to get you out of the house," she said
sternly.  More people are on their way to make sure that your
dead."

"You all go ahead, I'll follow you," I ordered them.  "Please,
bring my family to safety," I plead to Danya

"Owen, you're coming with us," Elisabeth protested.

"He's still alive," I argued, referring to the man Danya had
called Tom, that Elisabeth had called our son .  "I'm not leaving
without him."

"You shot him in the HEAD," Danya brutally reminded me. "He's
not going to make it.  Now, come on!"

"I'm not leaving without him," I repeated stubbornly.  If there
was a chance that this grown-up Tom was my son, I surely wasn't
going to leave him behind, especially if he was still alive.

There was hope.

Danya sighed.  She turned her attention towards my youngest child
who was still snuggled into his mother's arms.

"Tom, come here," she said.  The little one did as he was told.
She took a hold of his shoulders and forced him to look at her
straight in the eyes.  "Tom, my friend wanted to make you safe,
but he can't anymore.  It's up to you now.  Your sisters are
hiding in the cellar, can you bring them and your mommy to your
secret place?  Can you do that?"

The child nodded.

I smiled to Elisabeth, encouraging her to go along with our son.

Quickly, the two disappeared down the staircase.

I stumbled on my hand and knees.  I was ready to lift Tom over my
shoulder when Danya stopped me.

She was looking at me with pure hatred.  Shivers ran up my spine.

"In twenty years," she began coldly.  "You will offer me half a
million credit for me to kill your son.  It seemed that you
didn't needed me after all, did you."

"What are you talking about?" I asked taken aback by her
declaration.

"In my Tom's reality,  his mother got kill trying to protect him
over there in front of his room.  You never forgave him for the
lost and despised him for all the grief that followed throughout
the years."

"No," I denied.  "Me not loving my son is impossible."

"Is it?" she challenged.

I looked down at the dying man on the floor.  There were heavy
lines beneath his eyes, around his month.  They were signs of
sadness.  Somehow, deep down, I knew this young soul had know
torment.

"So, Tom came back into the past to save his mother?" I ventured.

"No, Tom came back to fulfilled a promised he made on this very
night.  You see Mr. Paris, Tom remembered the man you were
until now.  He remembered how strong, protective, and loving you
were. He promised himself that he would protect you from being
hurt ever again.  That is, even if meant for him to lie and cover up
the truth in order to do so."

"He didn't need to do that," I protested.

"Things were different for Tom and things will be different for
your little four-year old," she said before gazing down the
staircase.

"What can I do to help?" I asked in a desperate plea.

"You stay with him while I go take care of some visitors," she
replied already making her way down the steps.

Again, I looked down at Tom's face.

My son.

I had killed MY SON.

I had killed a child of mine whom I had already turned my back
upon.  How could that ever happen?  I didn't want to know.

Tears came pouring down.

"I'm so sorry, Son.  I'm so sorry.   I never wanted to harm you,
Tom.  I love you too much," I rambled as I caressed his forehead.

"... Love me...?" I heard just above a whisper.

"Tom!?  Tom, yes I love you, Son," I assured.

Unseeing eyes searched for me.

"I'm here, Tom," I told him, still caressing his pale face.
"Daddy's here, Tiger.  Everything's going to be okay.  You have
to old on."

"I... wanted you to be... proud of me," he breathed.

"I am, Tom.  I'm so proud of you for being there for your
family."

"I wanted... I wanted to be more like you," he confessed.

"Oh Tom, you can only be yourself and I love you for who you are.
You have to believe me Tiger, I love you."

Tom answered me with a beautiful smile.  "I love you too, Dad,"

"I know."

As his last breath left him, I could only hope that he had heard
me.

My gaze met Danya's who had been standing in the staircase for
God knows how long.

"It's over," she told me.

"I know,"

Without another word she walked liked a zombie to Tom's
bedroom.

"Damn!" I heard her cursed.  "I'm still alive and she's gone."

With that, she disappeared into thin air.

And so did my son's dead body.
 

TBC

***
Big Thanks to Louise once again.

Copyrights @ January 2001