by Kalkasar
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Disclaimer: The characters and Voyager Belong to Paramount. I just borrow them, will dryclean before returning. The story idea is mine.

Warning: This story implies that the friendship between the Characters Tom Paris and Harry Kim is more than just friendship. If you don't like the idea of two men sharing a mutually satisfying, loving relationship. Don't read this.

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It all happened so fast. . . I still don't believe it is really the end. How can it be? We were only just beginning to know each other. . .

As away missions go, it was routine enough. Go to the planet, get the supplies we needed, beam back aboard ship. But routine sometimes has a nasty way of going awry.

He was with us when we went down to the surface, laughing, making his usual stupid jokes, annoying the piss out of Commander Chakotay. I can't count the number of times I have warned him not to do that. . . yet it seems to be some kind of perverse need in him. . . at least I should say it seemed to be. . . .

It was a beautiful planet. "Almost like home," he said. "Reminded him of Earth," he said. "Looks just like Arkansas, a town called Little Rock. . . " or a picture of it that he'd seen, taken in the 20th century with autumn leaves and the impression of a cool breeze in the branches.

"Cool breeze and autumn leaves. . .
slow motion daylight. . .
A lone pair of watchful eyes
oversee the living.
Feel the presence all around. . .
A tortured soul. . .
A wound unhealing. . .
No regrets or promises. . .
the past is gone. . .
But you can still be free. . .
If time will set you free."

I remember talking to him the night before the mission.

Sometimes Tom could have this way about him, like looking inside himself, introspection they call it, but with Tom, it was usually not good when he did that. He did it that night and we got talking over a drink or two in Sandrine's. . . Sandrine's. . . I don't know if I can ever go there again.

"You know what the problem is, don't you Har?"

He'd looked me in the eye, holding a beer in his hand.

"We're never free. Not truly free. . . you know? I used to think, when I was in prison, that it was the security anklet that kept me prisoner." He snorted at his own words. "Idiot. . . we're held captive by more than physical restraints, Har."

I frowned at him. "Tom, are you ok?"

"No, I suppose I am not ok." Tom shrugged, took another mouthful of his beer and got up. "I need to sleep." And with that he'd left. Left me sitting there staring after him, left me wondering what demon was haunting him this time. Wishing he would let me in. Just once, really let me in behind those shielded blue eyes.

Time now to spread your wings
To take to flight.
The life endeavour. . .
Aim for the burning sun. . .
You're trapped inside
But you can still be free
If time will set you free.
But it's a long long way to go.

He made his own prison. His own little hidden place inside, where he hid himself away from the world, and who could blame him? I had been there when he first came aboard this ship.

Gods I had never seen anyone take as much flack as he did in those early days of our mission. He locked himself away deep down inside himself. Erected an external veneer of sarcasm and bravado. But there was a wounded soul inside.

I knew it was there, I could sense it. . . maybe even see it sometimes, like you are able to see shadows of stars through solar shields. But I could never reach it. Gods know I wanted to.

He lived in his own personal hell.

He was trapped inside — and he wouldn't let anyone drag him free.

Keep moving way up high. . .
You see the light; it shines forever.
Sail through the crimson skies. . .
The purest light. . .
The light that sets you free.
If time will set you free. . .

The Captain decided he should be buried here, on this planet that seemed to remind him so much of home.
I don't want to leave him here. Gods. . . how can I leave him here?

Chakotay stands beside me as the tears freely fall. He rests a hand on my shoulder. I close my eyes and let my pain flow out. I can't stop it. I can't help it. I am lost without him.

I remember the last few moments. Here on the side of this damned mountain that took him from me. I remember his eyes. . . startling blue and clear, as though the pain had faded. I remember those eyes seeking me out, the weak gesture of a hand, calling me closer. I bent over him.

"It . . . it doesn't hurt anymore, Har. It's OK." he whispered.

He smiled. There was a distance in his voice, a far away look in his eyes that I didn't want to see, that I wanted to wipe away. I didn't want him to go, but I knew I couldn't keep him here. The doctor . . . everyone, had done what they could, now . . . He was alone. I grabbed his hand.

"Tom!"

He smiled and shook his head. "We had some good times, Har, didn't we?" There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he studied me.

"Yes, Tom. . . we had good times. . . we had. . . " I couldn't say it. I closed my eyes, bowed my head and kissed his fingers which trembled in mine.

He arched his back and took a deep breath, gripping my hand until I looked into his eyes.

"Har," his voice was barely more than a breath. "Har, I feel like I can fly. I can be free." He looked away from me, seemed to be looking at something high above us. I even glanced up myself, but all I could see was the burning sun of this system, and a pitiless blue sky, rimmed with clouds stained crimson with the sun's rays.

When I looked back at him, his blue eyes turned to my face.

"I'm free." he breathed.

"NOOOOO! NOOOO TOM! NOOOOOOOO!"

They had to pull me away. I was shaking him, screaming his name. . . I. . . I think I went crazy for a brief period. . . I don't remember anything, but I know I couldn't speak for three days after. . . I screamed my voice away, trying to make him come back.

Sail through the wind and rain tonight.
You're free to fly tonight.
And you can still be free
If time will set you free.
And going higher than the mountain tops
And go high the wind don't stop
And go high. . .
Free to fly tonight. . .
Free to fly tonight. . .

We buried him there. On the planet that looked like Arkansas.

We buried him and we left him there.

But I can't believe that he is gone.

Sometimes it feels like he is right there. . . behind some unseen wall.

I can't see him. but he is there.

On the other side of Forever.

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End