The BLTS Archive - Season V: Conscious Betrayal by Bridget Cochran (bjcochran@aol.com) --- This is the sixth in the Season V Series which includes 'The Way of All Flesh', 'A Friend in Need', 'A Friend in Deed', 'Pride's Cloak' and 'The Moon is Nothing'. Major Spoilers for 'Latent Image'. This story eventually involves the consensual relationship between two adult men. If that does not appeal to you, move along home. Disclaimer: I own the ideas, Paramount owns the rest. Archive at will, ASC/EML, R'Rain's and AllSlash. --- Tom blinked and started. Had he been asleep? Nah, the padd was still in his hand. He blinked again, disoriented. Yes. He had been asleep. He didn't hear the Sick Bay door hiss open, but he heard it hiss shut. Around the corner to the Doc's office, came Chakotay dressed in his pajamas. Well, he presumed they were his pajamas. It was the same get-up he wore last year at those insomnia fests after they got done with the nightmare aliens. Very rugged pajamas. Very Chakotay. Shit. It was the 'concerned' face. "You still here?" Tom frowned, but didn't reply. The question was too stupid. Number One: Chakotay was looking at him. Number Two: Chakotay was here to see him. "How long have you been on duty?" Another stupid question. Tom flicked a look at the chronometer. 0430. "Sixteen and a half hours." He flagged his padd and put it down. Chakotay was here for a reason. "Who's replacing you?" "Wildman at 0800." "Who's taking Beta shift?" Tom looked up at Chakotay in disbelief. "Me." "Haven't you gotten anybody to cover?" "Who would you suggest?" Was it a surprise to Chakotay that the Medical team was woefully inadequate? Tom knew that Chakotay had planted his butt on the edge of the Doc's desk. He chose to look at his clasped hands instead. "Maybe you can get someone to cover for you." "Uh-huh." Tom's head rose slowly, hardness making his eyes blue diamonds. "And which department head do you think will be willing to take orders from Ensign Paris?" Their eyes clashed, and Chakotay lost. He stared at the hard surface of the desk before hitting his comm badge. "Chakotay to Wilner." The voice of a woman a few seconds awake came over the line. "Wilner here, sir." "DeLann, is there anyone you could spare for Beta shift in Sick Bay tomor--er, today?" "Yes, sir." There was a pause for the bleary mind to raise itself to the task. "Crewman Ytlak would be a good choice. He'll be there at 1530." "Thanks, DeLann. Chakotay out." Chakotay looked down at Tom, expecting some kind of acknowledgement. What he got was the hard blue eyes staring at the desk. They would laser through it if they could. Tom was upset about the Doc. Hell, they were all upset about the Doc. Eighteen months ago, wiping the few days files from his program seemed like the best answer. But eventually the truth about his mental breakdown would come out. You couldn't hide much from the Doctor. They should have known that he was smarter than he looked. Chakotay rubbed his neck. Yes. That was a remark better left unsaid. Recently, Tom had lost his sense of humor. Granted, he never had much of a sense of humor where Chakotay was concerned. But these past few months, Chakotay had walked on egg shells around the pilot. And he was sure his egg shell walking days were no where near over. "Was there anything else, Commander?" Chakotay looked up from his examination of the table top and into the daunting blue eyes. He swallowed. "I suppose you don't want to talk about it." "Shit," Tom breathed and swiveled his chair in a direction away from Chakotay. The older man could see only a sliver of the bitter profile. "Gods, Chakotay, if I thought talking would help, I'd start now and never stop." It was the bleakness in his voice that lacerated Chakotay. That raw emotion that he couldn't control. Chakotay didn't kid himself; if Tom weren't so damn tired he wouldn't have been treated to this much. "You know, eighteen months ago, excising the memory from the Doc seemed like the humane thing to do. The right decision to end the pain he was putting himself through." Tom ran a thumb across an eyebrow. "In retrospect, the whole thing sucks. Another Janeway 'I am the Captain' stunt to eliminate the problem. "Ultimately, it didn't work. The truth won out." Tom turned his head to Chakotay. To see if he was listening. He turned back to sink further into the chair. "In the last eighteen months so much has happened. Kes leaves. B'Elanna loves me. She doesn't love me. We lose shuttlecrafts. We build shuttlecrafts. We acquire Seven." Tom paused and swiveled back to Chakotay. "Do you remember what life was like before Seven came aboard?" Chakotay shook his head, a curve to his lips. "Me, neither." He sunk back into the chair, before surging forward. "Yesterday, when she looked at me, asked me how I could rationalize doing what we did to the Doctor's program. I told her that I agreed with the Captain on this one. "Chakotay, I wish you could have seen the depth of her disappointment. In me, as a human. I have sat here for the last sixteen hours replaying that look, reviewing the events of the incident. Rereading my report." His eyes settled on the padd. Tom sank back into the chair. "It was holy, fucking hell, Chakotay." Tom's eyes glazed over at the memory. "Holy, fucking hell. There they are, my best friend and Ensign Jetal who's birthday we just celebrated, fried crispy. And none of the readings are right. We administer meds, nothing. "I'm going crazy, Chakotay. I am so clueless and so useless. I'm scared and screaming at the Doc. He's panicking, too. But he's going through this catalog, his diagnostic subroutine. Coming up with stuff, discarding stuff. I'm freaking. Jetal and Harry are dropping like rocks. Then he hits the solution. But he can only successfully treat one patient in the time they have left. One patient, god damn it." Tom's fist came down on the table. "And I scream 'choose'." "You know," Tom said as he sagged into the chair once more. "I'm not usually a screamer. I was so fucking desperate that he choose Harry. And he did. I can't remember. Was I physically pushing him toward Harry? Was I looking at him or Harry? Telepathic waves don't project to holograms even if I could broadcast. But did my actions push him to Harry and away from Jetal? "I hadn't thought about this in a while. Hadn't examined my guilt. Don't try to examine it as a rule." He leaned forward to pick up the padd. He turned it over in his hands, focusing his eyes on the action. "But in the past couple of months I've examined myself, inside and out. I feel as guilty in this whole fucking thing as the Doc does." Chakotay was losing any bit of objectivity he had left. He looked down on Tom, who sat head bent, hands turning the padd over and over with the nervous energy that came from the disclosure. Reaching over, Chakotay pulled the padd from the fingers, taking a hand in his. His grip became forceful when Tom tried to withdraw. The cynical sneer emerged on the troubled face. "I'm not letting go," the older man said in a soft, firm voice. "I can't absorb your pain, but I'd take your place if I could." "Stop the bullshit, Chakotay. I'm not looking for sympathy." Now Chakotay frowned. "What are you looking for?" It was a hard question. Chakotay watched the eyes fill up with tears. "I wish I knew." They stared at each other for long, still moments before Chakotay leaned down to place his lips softly and gently on Tom's. Tom didn't move, barely returned the pressure. The Commander straightened again, the pilot's hand still within his grasp. "That wasn't a good idea," Tom sighed. He wasn't fighting for the release of his hand any more. Didn't have to, Chakotay had loosened his grip. It rested within the dark grasp. "It's early morning ship's time," Chakotay reasoned. "Nobody's around." Tom shook his head as he examined the dark fingers enclosing his. "That's not it. If you kiss me--you know, tongues and all--I won't be able to stop there. Self-restraint is not my strong suit." "I don't have a problem with that." Chakotay's voice was light. Tom looked up at him, eyes bright. He shook his head. "You don't get it. I'm too fucking screwed up to start anything right now. We fuck it up, and I'm liable to space myself." Chakotay squeezed the hand he held. Tom was messed up and needed a friend, not a lover. No matter how much he wanted to be more to Tom, he'd have to wait. Looked like he'd be waiting forever. "Do you want to play Velocity for a couple of hours during Beta shift?" the older man asked. Tom sucked air in through his teeth. "Yes and no." He looked from their joined hands into the dark eyes that wanted to get deep into his soul. "I need the exercise. I need the company. If you promise to leave the counseling shit at home with your uniform." Chakotay shrugged, as he broke with Tom and pushed off the desk. "No promises," he said, as smile produced dimples. "I'd never dream of asking you to leave your smart ass at home." It wasn't a smile, but Tom's face lightened considerably. "You could ask--" But Chakotay was already to the door. --- The End