Tom walked down the corridor on the way to his shift. Dark floor, dark walls, dark ceiling, dark mood. It had been five days since the argument in Sandrine’s. Three days of absolute fucking hell. It wasn’t just the fact that Chakotay basically hated him, which lord knows was enough, it was the crew too. Sure there were the nice few, the ones who told him he’d be back with Chakotay in no time. But there was a hell of a lot of the bastards. ‘You’re not good enough for our Commander, Paris.’ Yeah, well he was TOM’S Commander for a while. ‘Had a lover’s tiff, Paris?’ That’s all it is idiot, a fight, we’ll make up. Right? ‘Bet he’s realized his mistake and dumped you.’ Well…Shit. What if that’s exactly what Chakotay’s done? 

Tom shook his head and concentrated on walking in a straight line- a surprisingly difficult task when you’ve had six hours sleep in the past five days. He must look like death warmed up. Eyes open just as much as was needed, hair in its own world, shoulders sagged and legs moving almost as slow as his brain. 

It was the dreams. They were fucking back with a vengeance. Sequels were always worse than their predecessors. They had him waking up screaming himself hoarse with his heart desperately trying to force its way out of his chest. And no Chakotay to hold him through them. 

He could live without sleep.

Tom entered the turbo lift and spent a few minutes trying to remember where he worked. "Bridge!" he said with a little more triumph than he wanted to show.

One stop on the way up. Tom looked at the brown haired woman who’d entered and was staring at him. She was familiar. Asking his brain who she was Tom found the only response he could get was ‘sleep first, think later’. Fucking traitorous brain. 

"Lieutenant, I don’t think you should work today. Go back to your quarters and get some rest."

CAPTAIN JANEWAY! Oh yes, brain online! Now…think about the question. Come on, it’s just like a hangover, think through the fuzziness…

"No. I’m fine." 

Kathryn looked at Paris, shocked at the incredibly slow response time. He looked like hell. With his pale face, blank expression and absent eyes he looked like a walking specter. She knew all about his trouble, with the crew AND Chakotay. The Lieutenant definitely looked worse for it, he must be in love with her first officer. OF COURSE HE IS her mind told her. She’d seen the looks across her bridge, the smiles, the discreet caresses of Chakotay’s fingers when he bent over the Conn. She’d noticed Chakotay’s time has been diverted from her to Tom, that they laughed, talked and joked with each other. That they were in love. 

But Tom sure looked worse off from this than Chakotay.

She put on her ‘caring but still Captain’ voice, "Tom, we don’t need a pilot who’ll fall asleep at the helm. Chakotay can pilot." 

She cringed. Talk about tactless. She could deal easily with the most powerful species in the Delta Quadrant, but she’d just hurt her own pilot with three small words, "I’m…"

"It’s okay Captain. Chakotay’s a good pilot. But I’ll be f-"

"Do I have to make it an order Lieutenant?"

"No ma’am." 

She watched him walk out of the turbo lift, "Get some rest Tom." He smiled, incredibly weakly though, a mere lamp light compared to his usual sunshine smile. She returned the smile with a stronger, more reassuring, one of her own and resolved to speak to Chakotay, "Bridge."

Well SHIT. Tom sighed and looked around. Deck five. He wasn’t going to bed. Sleep meant those fucking dreams and he WASN’T revisiting that world. It just made him incredibly desperate for Chakotay’s warm, tender, protective embrace. Even MORE desperate.

Tom began to wander in the general direction of the Mess Hall and was surprised when he made it there without getting completely lost more than twice- brain must be accepting the fact it would just have to do without sleep. He slid into a chair that was way too comfy and switched it for a hard backed upright one. Gratefully accepting some coffee, Tom sat there sipping at it and forcing himself awake by counting the number of stars. But he didn’t seem to be able to remember the next number after nine and resigned to thinking nostalgically about Chakotay.

Chakotay strode down the corridor, scowling. Scowling at Tom for not sleeping. Scowling at Kathryn having to point that fact out at him and suggesting he ‘do something about it because ‘I am NOT having you both mopsing about for the rest of the trip’. Scowling at himself for not noticing his lover was ill. Scowling at his own fucking attitude that had pushed Tom away from him. 

He entered the mess hall and saw several humans, one Vulcan, a Talaxian and a ghost. SHIT. Tom looked like hell. Chakotay watched Tom’s eyes sliding slowly closed and bolted over there catching the pilot before he dropped to the floor. 

Tom opened his eyes to find Chakotay, who was holding his upper body, sliding him gently off the chair so Tom was lying over him. "Cha?" Tom managed to ask softly. 

"I think we need to talk honey. Shit Tom, what have you done to yourself?"

Chakotay watched Tom’s eyes, they were barely registering his presence. Tom showed no reluctance to being wrapped up in his arms, but Chakotay realized that was because he probably didn’t even know what day it was. He could feel Tom let his head sag into Chakotay’s chest and him gathering strength to speak, "I’m just a little sleepy."

"Sleepy? Tom you’re DEAD. You can’t do this to yourself."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Chakotay noticed Neelix had kindly evacuated himself and the few people in the mess, so him and Tom were alone. He sighed at Tom, "Do you have any idea where you are?"

"I’m in my quarters, going to bed. I was just about to drop off when you came in." Tom said quietly, his eyes looking like they were struggling against the urge to sleep. 

"Tom, you’re in the Mess Hall." Said softly. 

"That’s what I said." Tom paused, taking a while to think remotely straight, "I thought you hated me?" he said calmly.

"I could NEVER hate you, hon. How about I take you back to your quarters, then you can get some sleep." He said, finding his hand running soothingly up and down Tom’s arm. 

"No. Can’t sleep. Please, please don’t make me."

There was a sickening desperation in Tom’s voice that made Chakotay’s heart lurch and his stomach cringe at the same time. Shit. He’d done this. He’d turned his beloved pilot into this- this scared, tired, desperate wreck. Chakotay felt guilt the size of Voyager land and dock on his shoulders. He pulled his arms tighter around Tom and whispered, "I’d stay with you." This didn’t seem to register with Tom, so Chakotay calmly elaborated, "If I stayed with you, would you get some sleep?"

"If you’d stay." Tom said softly.

"Okay." Chakotay quickly barked out an order to have them both transported back to Tom’s quarters. The moment he materialized there he carried Tom to his bed and the pilot down, pulling the covers around him. Tom started trembling gently and Chakotay kicked off his shoes and climbed right in next to him, calming the pilot with his embrace.

Tom’s eyes began to drift gradually closed as Chakotay gently soothed him into placidity. He kissed Tom’s head delicately and waited as the pilot relented completely to sleep. Chakotay then slipped out of bed quietly and perched on a chair at the edge of Tom’s bed, watching Tom frown and huddle up tightly, lonely without Chakotay’s presence. Chakotay looked at Tom’s face, it was confused and the man looked vulnerable. Chakotay wished he was in there next to Tom, but knew that Tom wouldn’t be happy if he woke up to the assumption Chakotay had taken advantage of him. That in itself was bad enough, but it would be worse considering it wasn’t true. In truth Chakotay was just as lonely as the sleeping man curled up in that bed. 

Five minutes into Chakotay’s stakeout Tom began to shake considerably, his whole body convulsing. Chakotay got up and crouched beside Tom, taking the man’s cold, shaking hand and placing it between his own. Chakotay caressed Tom’s hand, warming it, easing the quivering. He saw Tom’s face relax softly into sleep, lines of worry and insomnia disappearing, forming back into the Tom Paris he knew. 

As Tom stopped shaking Chakotay grabbed a spare blanket and wrapped it around Tom, tucking it into the man’s sides, making sure he was fully covered. Tom stirred in his sleep and snuggled down under the blankets, pulling them tightly around himself. His lips parted slightly to breathe the words, "Love you Cha."

Chakotay smiled at the worn out pilot and kissed his forehead, whispering his love back to Tom who, he knew, was probably oblivious to every word. Chakotay turned and walked quietly out of Tom’s quarters. 

Why was he leaving? Because there was no way Tom would feel the same when he woke up. He’d look like he’d taken advantage of a man who was ill and probably willing to submit to anything he’d asked if it would help him get better. No. He couldn’t risk damaging his and Tom’s relationship anymore than he already had.

"Cha?" Tom woke up and turned on his side, "Chakotay?" 

Tom sat up and checked his systems. Everything was on red alert. He was fucking tired, he felt like one big knot (well that could be because he was used to Chakotay’s massages whenever he needed) and Chakotay was nowhere to be found. 

Shit.

Was it guilt? Was that the only reason Chakotay had taken care of him last night? Did he think that helping Tom to sleep was the way to lift the dead weight off his shoulders? 

Well Tom had a thing or two to say about THAT.

He wasn’t going to be just another plaything for anyone. He was going to make Chakotay feel a hell of a lot guiltier. 

What was Chakotay even thinking? Gods he’d promised he didn’t hate Tom, swore he’d stay with him. But since when did anyone ever make good on their promises to Tom Paris? Shit, Tom was sick of not being a person to anyone. Sick to death of thinking he was in love with someone, just to have them turn around and walk away. 

And now it was Chakotay. Leaving him. History repeating. Tom scolded himself for believing Chakotay was different from the rest of those fuckers. 

Tom stood up and pulled a sweater on over his creased uniform, anger building him as his body continually struggled against his every step. He paused and looked at his bedside cabinet, the drawers temping him. He reached into the drawer, grabbed the object and stuffed it into his pocket. It wasn’t as if he was going to do it, just have it there to make him feel safe. Something to cling on to. 

"Computer; location of Commander Chakotay?"

"Commander Chakotay is in holodeck one."

Celebrating? Yeah, well, bad move Commander. Sandrine’s was Tom’s territory. Tom stood and stormed to the door, having to grab the wall once or twice to steady himself.

Chakotay looked into his beer. Yuck. Okay, so he didn’t mind a drink now and again, but this was disgusting. Maybe it was just because the taste was mixing with all the bitterness inside him and making it double strength. He hadn’t even had enough to drown out his sorrows. 

He glanced up when the whole of Sandrine’s went silent. Okay, it was only relatively few people, just gamma shift. But they still gave a pretty good effect when they shut up.

Oh shit.

Tom had just walked in looking like hell and twice as pissed off.

Shit, Chakotay had hoped the sleep would have done him some good, hoped he’d be down for at least another ten hours yet. He’d thought Tom would Comm. him when he woke up, but it didn’t seem Tom had the wariness to do that. 

Tom stormed over to Chakotay and slammed his fists down on the table making the drinks wobble dangerously and Chakotay jump to his feet. "What the HELL do you think you’re playing at Chakotay?"

"Tom, calm down. Let’s talk about this quietly." Chakotay said, even though he knew if they spoke in whispers, the whole of Sandrine’s would be listening in. He needed to get Tom out of here.

"You want to TALK? You want to TALK QUIETLY? Fuck that Chakotay. You could have talked before. Why the hell did you leave me, what the…"

Chakotay watched as his transport executed. He and Tom materialized in an observation lounge and he immediately barked out a privacy lock. "Tom, honey, just let me talk."

"Don’t you ‘honey’ me. I’ll piss and moan as much as I want!"

"Fine. But you’re not going anywhere until you let me talk." Chakotay watched as Tom relented slightly, his face softening, allowing him to speak.

"Just sit down and let me talk to you. You look shattered anyway, sitting down isn’t going to damage your case." Chakotay pleaded.

"Alright." Tom sat down, making sure it was on a single-seater. 

Chakotay sat down opposite him, only perching on the edge of the couch, "Tom, the only reason I left you was because I thought you’d blame me for taking advantage of you when you woke up."

"Why would I do that?"

"I thought you’d accuse me of taking advantage of your condition. You seemed so out of it, I think even Tuvok agreeing to snuggle up with you would have been fine by you. I didn’t think you would think along the same lines when you woke up. I mean, you didn’t give me a chance to apologize for the time before."

"You didn’t have to apologize for that, you were only trying to take care of me."

"That’s true, I was only taking care of you. But it was no reason for me to dismiss you when you objected, I should have given you some space." Chakotay sighed, "Tom I still love you, and I’d love to be with you again if you’d have me."

Tom stood up and walked over to the window, keeping his back to Chakotay.

Chakotay closed his eyes in defeat; Tom wasn’t going to have him. He stood, taking Tom’s silence as a cue to leave. 

Tom whirled around, "Where are you going?"

Before Chakotay could start talking, he saw tears on Tom’s face, tears that hadn’t been there before. He frowned, "I thought you didn’t want me. Thought that’s why you turned away."

"No." Tom moved slightly closer, "I was just…overwhelmed. I’d got it so fixed inside that you hated me, saying that you loved me kind of tipped me over." They lapsed into a brief, but awkward, silence, "Oh shit, Chakotay, I want you to hold me again."

Chakotay let a smile creep across his face and he practically flew over to Tom, holding him tightly in an emotional embrace. He buried his face in Tom’s hair, what felt like an age of emptiness filling itself with Tom.

Tom felt fresh tears running down his face, as he let himself be held in Chakotay arms. He ran his arms over Chakotay’s back, reassuring himself that this was real. Suddenly realizing this relationship was actually LOVE shocked Tom into clinging onto Chakotay even tighter. This was a co-dependent, loving, tender, caring relationship. There was no dominance, no condemnation for good intentions gone bad. Just comfort from total chaos, infatuation where there had only been indifference, affection from aversion. A love sprung from hate. Love wasn’t just a word anymore. Love was this- him and Chakotay. Oh…shit. This was new. 

"Chakotay? I love you, and not like I said before. I know what it means this time, and it’s a colossal thing. And I think it’s amazing. I love you. Please, please tell me you feel the same."

"Oh I do Tom. You can’t imagine how I feel about you." Chakotay sat Tom down on the couch.

Tom lay down in Chakotay’s lap, looking up at him, "I think I can. It’s probably just what I’m feeling."

"It’s pretty amazing isn’t it? A couple of months ago we were just Commander and Lieutenant, now, well- now THIS." Chakotay noticed Tom’s eyes drooping closed, and his poorly disguising a yawn. Chakotay smiled and queried gently, "Sleepy?" 

"Mmm." Tom nodded.

Chakotay reached over the back of the couch for the blanket that was always kept there and pulled it down over Tom, making sure the whole of him was covered. He took Tom’s hand and threaded his fingers through it, laying the adjoined pair on top of the blanket.

Tom looked at their united hands, Chakotay’s bronzed fingers mixed with his own long pale digits. He gave a contented sigh and let sleep overcome him, spending the first night in a while without fear of the dream period. Because this time he knew there would be only one man plaguing his thoughts. And he didn’t mind that at all. Not one bit. 

The END