The BLTS Archive - Season V: A Friend in Need by Bridget Cochran (bjcochran@aol.com) --- Here is the second story in the Season V Series. The first story was the Way of All Flesh. This story has spoilers for Once Upon a Time. Disclaimer: I own the ideas, Paramount owns the rest. Archive at will, including ASC, R'Rain's, BLTs and AllSlash. This story will eventually involve a consensual sexual relationship between two men. If you don't enjoy that sort of thing, move along home. --- Tom leaned over the sink, not knowing whether he should throw up in the toilet or not move a muscle and just use the sink. That's terrific, he thought. You've slipped so low you can't even use the toilet to puke. Oh, man, his head hurt, his stomach was heaving. What was in that swill that Neelix forced on him last night? Tavori gourd wine. He drank way too much of it. Neelix had used his birthday as an excuse for a big blow out. Tom couldn't be unsociable. He'd been raised better than that. And now he was sick as a dog--stomach rolling, head swimming and it pounded like hell. In a sanguine moment Tom opted for the toilet, and made it just in time to avoid clean up later. He knelt, stomach heaving, to pay homage to the duranium god. A cold sweat broke out above his lip and brow as his stomach went another round. So absorbed was he in his own misery that he only gradually became aware he was no longer in his bathroom alone. Reaching a momentary reprieve, Tom rocked back on his heels to look at Chakotay, who stood running a wash cloth under the cascade in the sink. Tired blue eyes took in the full dress uniform from his ignominious position hugging the toilet. "Flush," Chakotay called out as he crouched down in front of Tom to wipe hisface. Tom let him wipe, he was too weak and his head hurt too much to even say, stop. But he didn't want to say stop. Uh-oh, he thought and mustered enough strength to push Chakotay aside before his stomach betrayed him again. Chakotay didn't go far. He knelt beside Tom as he went to it. The hand resting on the small of his back informed him that even his kidneys hurt. He reached around to pull it a little higher on his back as he gagged one last time. The hand left as Chakotay left his side to draw a glass of water. Tom rinsed and spit, gratitude unspoken. He rolled from his knees to sit with his back against the shower stall. Holding the glass up to Chakotay, it was exchanged for the wash cloth. He ran it over his face and the back of his neck. "What a shitty way to spend my day off," he groaned and settled the cloth on the back of his neck; knees up and arms folded across them. Tom set his forehead on his arms with utmost care. "What brings you here, Chakotay?" "Brought your birthday present." Tom frowned, but Chakotay couldn't see it, and it hurt. So he stopped. "Sorry you didn't make it to the party." "Somebody had to work." They shared silence, which was fine with Tom. He could handle silence. "Come on," Chakotay nudged Tom with his foot, the pilot used all the strength he had to tip his head up. Man, even that made his head hurt, he winced into the light that surrounded the dark head like a halo. Chakotay held out his hand. Very, very carefully, Tom shook his head. "I'm just gonna sit here a while." He couldn't lift an eyebrow, he certainly couldn't raise his hand. And he did not know why Chakotay was once again hunkered down beside him until he reached around the younger man's shoulders with one arm, then he grasped the arm closest to him. "We'll stand on three." "I don't think I can," Tom admitted in a whisper, his head swimming. "Just go with it," the XO muttered. On three, Chakotay bore Tom's weight till the both stood, wobbly, but upright. "Now we just have to make it as far as your bed," he coached. "As far as the bed." Tom didn't sound so sure. Chakotay did little more than drag Tom to his bed, getting twisted up in the taller man's nearly useless legs when they stopped at the bedside. The momentum propelled them both onto the bed. Tom's groans were painful to hear. Chakotay stilled, stifling the reflex to untangle and push away. He didn't want to contribute to anymore pain than he could help. "It would be impolite for you to take advantage of me in this condition," Tom may not have been able to move, but his personality could not be curtailed. Chakotay pulled away from the rank sigh that came from Tom's direction. Gently, he began to disengage himself from the tangle of Tom. "Don't worry, I try not to take advantage of people in the condition you are. No matter how attractive they are." Tom sighed again and Chakotay couldn't keep his nostrils from flaring. He backed out the bed holding his breath. Watching with one eye, Tom had no energy to even look chagrined, too exhausted and hurting to care very much. The sheet and blanket were untwisted to settle around Tom. The breeze from the settling covers washed over him and he felt the bed dip as Chakotay feathered a hand across his hair. Too bad his hair hurt. He must have grimaced because the fingers were gone and the hand rested on his. "Do you need something from the doctor?" "Nah. I've slept off worse." Just when and where was uncertain. "Sure?" Chakotay couldn't help his worry. Tom had been through hell in the last few days. "Mm-hmm." Tom burrowed further into the pillow, eyes drooping shut. "Sit a minute?" "A minute," he agreed. But Tom was already asleep. The brown fingers returned to stroke blond hair that was wild and stiff. The still face showed the strain of the last 48 hours, small circles that only sleep could erase, the crease of a frown marring usually smooth forehead. Chakotay rubbed his thumb to smooth the space out. As first officer, he knew that Tom's final message had been to B'Elanna. That's all he knew. But, she wasn't here this morning. She wasn't at the party last night. Whatever they had was definitely showing strain. Whatever was going on, Tom wasn't ready to discuss it. And Chakotay had to get to the bridge. Resisting the urge to kiss the sleeping mouth was not too difficult, considering the way his breath smelled; so, he settled for a quick tussle of the yellow strands before he stood. --- Tom gradually realized he was awake. His head only throbbed now, but his mouth was full of cotton and his tongue filled ninety per cent of the interior of it. He stumbled to the toilet, glad he could stand upright. Then he stumbled back through his bedroom to the dayroom for something bland to eat. Toast and tea. That's what his mother gave him for a hangover. Then his dad would give him the lecture. He'd sit at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, hearing, but not listening to his father drone on. Some things you miss--and, hell, some things you still miss. Tom set the plate and mug on the table, sitting to stare at the model ship that sat on the shining surface, a frown reforming between his eyes. He moved the gleaming white card to get a better look at the small, sleek miniature. It was a replica of the Delta Flyer. A slow smile crept onto Tom's face, touching his eyes. The little thing was perfect. He could hardly take his eyes from it as he absently tapped the card on the table. As an after thought, he flipped the card open. "Tom, Great job on the Delta Flyer. Its 'integrity' is more than structural. I'm glad you're back. Happy birthday. Chakotay" Tom read the card over again, several times; like it was new each time. Then he sat and stared at the model. Munching toast, he turned it to look at it from all angles. The Delta Flyer was his baby and he was proud of all it had already endured. It was strong and resilient. Very Voyager. He smiled at the model. Yeah, Sam Wildman isn't the only one who had someone to come home to after all. Tom scratched his stubbly jaw, then his head trying to figure out he was going to keep from jumping into a relationship with Chakotay, so close on the heels of the erosion of whatever he was losing with B'Elanna. Cripes, the man gives me a birthday present, and now I want a wedding date. Okay, nothing that drastic, but there was something special about someone who held your head while you barfed. Tom sat and stared at the model for sometime. --- The End