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Going Home
by Terranfem
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Disclaimer: All Star Trek characters belong to Paramount. No copyright
infringements intended.
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Dying. He knew he was dying. The days of agony and torment his alien
captors had inflicted on him was finally taking its toll. Every gasping breath
grated in his throat and every small movement he made caused throbbing
pain to every part of his body. The knowledge of his impending death was
almost a welcome relief. He was just so tired. It would feel so good to rest
and be free from the pain.
Weary beyond words, his knees buckled under him. He sank to the soft
ground and was grateful that it cushioned his battered body. The thought
that this alien landscape was going to be his final death place flitted
briefly through his mind. It didn't matter where he died though. He
knew he wasn't dying alone. A long time ago, during the days after
Caldik Prime, the Maquis and New Zealand, he might have been afraid to die
because he knew if he died then, nobody would even care. Nobody would
mourn for him. But this time was different. He had friends now. Friends
who would care enough to miss his presence in their lives. So, even though
physically he was all alone, emotionally he was surrounded by
friends who loved him. That was enough for him. Images of their smiling
faces - Harry, B'Elanna, Neelix, Janeway and the others - floated
before him and a slight smile crossed his face.
He hoped fervently that they were as far away from this planet by now.
The aliens they were going to bargain with for food and supplies had
turned on them when they had least expected it. They had taken him and
several crew members as hostages in an ill-fated attempt to use them as
bargaining tools in a plot to steal Voyager and its technology. Janeway
and the rescue team had managed to release the others who were held
captive in a separate building from him. To his relief, Harry was among
those who had been rescued. He saw all this through the tiny window of his
small prison cell.
He had called out to let them know where he was but they didn't hear
him. He saw Harry frantically running about and he guessed his best friend
was searching for him. Then the buildings in the compound had exploded and
the next thing he knew, his consciousness was being ripped out of him as
he was buried under rubble.
When he had woken up, the pain from his injuries had been excruciating.
But it was nothing compared to the torture they inflicted a few days
later. They had taken out their frustrations on him and he endured it
wordlessly. He didn't beg or plead for he realized it was futile. He
wondered, half-bitterly, why fate hadn't let him die in the initial
explosion.
The aliens had told him that Voyager had left him on their planet to
perish. Tom knew his shipmates wouldn't leave him behind if there was
even a remote chance that he was still alive. But he also had to face the
fact that they had good reason to believe that he had perished in the
explosions. Most likely they had left orbit. For their safety's sake,
he hoped that they had departed. He didn't want Voyager to be
needlessly exposed to danger just to look for him. When the aliens had
finally tired of him, they had him driven out to a remote area and dumped
in a place without food, water or shelter.
His vision was already dimming. "Good-bye, Mom. Good-bye,
Dad," he murmured, picturing his parents in his head. "I
love you." This time he gave in to the fantasy he'd always had:
that someday he would come home and both his parents would be waiting
for him. His dad would approach him first. And then they would reach out
for each other and the longed-for embrace would finally come. The embrace
that forgave a multitude of sins and melted the years of estrangement
between father and son. He had dreamed that maybe someday that fantasy
could come true. He knew now that it would remain just that. A fantasy.
He would never see his parents again but at least he had this.
He relished his father's imagined arms around him. He sighed. It had
been so long since his father had hugged him. It felt so real that he
could almost feel arms surrounding him, tenderly and carefully enveloping
him. Suddenly, a voice spoke.
"Tom…" The tone was soft, gentle. A voice that promised
that no more harm would befall him.
Was that voice also a figment of his mind or was it real? Tom struggled
to open his eyes. Light and life glowed in his blue eyes once more at the
sight that greeted him. It wasn't his dad cradling him in his arms. It
was Harry. With that recognition, hope welled up inside him. Hope that
maybe he was being given another chance to live. That this was the reason
why he survived the explosion. So, he battled the darkness closing in on
him, ignored the pain that rode back in waves, assaulting his body. Only
one thought dominated. Harry was here. Harry would keep him safe.
Light shimmered, surrounding their bodies, and Tom's spirit exulted.
He was going home.
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End
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