Aid and Comfort
by Smaragd
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The 500-word bug strikes again -- except this one isn't much fun. Sorry, it's a nasty little what-if. We've had "Hug-Me-Harry", "Hung-Like-a-Horse-Harry", and now "Hit-Me-Harry." It was only a matter of time. . . right? And thanks, Brian W, for inspiration.

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"Help me, Harry. . ."

Harry had never seen his friend look so miserable. . . even at the worst of times, he'd maintained a fragment of self-esteem. Harry struggled to remember what Tom had looked like then, usually sporting a wry smile, sharing some self-deprecating humor, but underneath it, always that glint in his eye that said, 'I know I'm worth something even if you're too dumb to see it'. But Harry found no trace of that old sparkle now.

"What am I going to do?" Tom's head fell into his hands as he curled into a ball on the bed, shaking.

Harry sat down and put his arms around Tom as he had every night for the last two weeks. Ever since the Mari had completed their treatment. Ever since B'Elanna had become a different person.

Tom's voice was muffled, but Harry knew the words by heart. "She said she loved me. I thought she came with us. . . for me."

Maybe it would have been better. . . but no. They had all been afraid, Tom most of all, that B'Elanna would stay on the large green planet, she'd been so happy there. Then Tuvok had calculated their chances of getting home safely, already low, would decrease by more than 90% if she left the ship. They needed her, she knew that. And she. . .

"She needed me, Harry. . . I know she did." Tom looked up at Harry, his eyes filled with tears. "But now, her eyes, she. . . she looks at me as though I'm a ten-year-old with a crush on my teacher."

Harry knew that look. He'd seen it before, on a Buddhist priest he'd met years ago. He'd called it 'enlightenment'. Somehow, whatever they'd done had given B'Elanna the same thing, an inner peace, a calm center that couldn't be shaken. And she no longer needed such things as friends. . . or lovers. Though she'd stayed on the ship, she'd left all of them behind.

"She was part of me, Harry. . . she's still in my heart."

Harry held on tighter and pressed his lips to Tom's forehead, absently humming a tune his mother had sung to him when he'd cried as a child.

"And now it hurts. . . so much. Help me get her out. . . please, Harry. . ."

Tom's tears were flowing now, and Harry kissed them away, telling Tom with his arms and his lips and his eyes that he would always be here. I'll help you, Tom. I'll be with you and I'll hold you and I'll need you until you get over her. I'll help you until you're back to your old self, until I see that look in your eyes I love so much. . . the "fuck 'em all" look that always makes me smile.

Tom gradually quieted in his arms, their kisses less innocent now, but just as comforting. Through the passion, Harry felt the despair thinning his blood, washing away any joy he might feel. . . but he knew he would stay no matter how terrible it was. I'll help you, Tom. I'll help you until you don't need me anymore.

Even though I know no one will be able to help me then.

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Harry's mother's lullaby
Dry a tear
Have no fear
I'll be here
Always near

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End