The BLTS Archive- That's Me by Joanne Collins (luchenbackoutlaw@gmail.com) --- Disclaimer: Everything Trek belongs to Paramount/Viacom. That's Me, written by Tony Haselden and Bob Alan, sung by Martina McBride. Please do not distribute, archive, etc, without my permission. May be archived on the ASC archive, the CPSG archive and R'Rain's Slash Archive only. Posting to BLTS, CPSG, ASC/EM only. Anything else, please ask first. I will probably say yes, but I'd prefer to know about it. Please read no further if you are offended in any way by m/m relationships. Although the sexual content is almost nil and the teeny mention there is is het), this story more than implies an m/m relationship. --- There's a photo in an album he don't notice any more... That's me... That's me... --- Gods, Tom just looked right past my picture on the viewscreen. Doesn't even notice me as a picture any more. Of course he doesn't. He's got someone *else* to notice now. And yes, he stopped *there*. Why always *there*? I hardly think that's a time he'd want to remember. Anyway, he hands me the chips with the pictures of us on them. The good times we shared. The times we argued. Not many of those recently, but when we did, gods, they were spectacular. --- There's a stack of cards and letters buried deep inside a drawer... That's me... That's me... --- I remember the first paper card he gave me. Trying to "revive the old traditions" he said, with that irresistible smile...and that was only the first time. He kept doing it after the first time got him a smile...and more. So much more. No. I will not dwell on those memories. They will only make me cry. And I don't cry. Not over something that was inevitable from the beginning, no matter how I try to pretend it wasn't. So instead of remembering, I toss the cards and notes into the box with the picture chips. --- And the shirt that I once slept in... Hanging loose behind the door... Tossed aside so carelessly... That's me... Oh, that's me... --- I’m looking in his closet now, wanting to take only my clothes. But what's really his and what's really mine seems to be blended with some things. Like that grey shirt. I used to sleep in it whenever I slept here. And he doesn't seem to want it. I'll have to ask. "Do you want to keep this?" I ask, holding it up. A flash of pain, which a part of me is shamefully glad to see, and he shakes his head. I add it to the box of memories. Even though I know I'll never wear it again, I can't bear the thought of it being recycled. I could end up wearing it again without knowing, and I'd hate that even more. --- There's a picture in my wallet... And one less faded in my mind... That's him... That's him... --- I remember thinking how gauche the girls in the twentieth century seemed, carrying pictures of their lovers in leather and fabric wallets, which seemed less to be about the ostensible purpose of carrying transactable credits, and more about what was written on them. But then I got a picture of Tom, and laminated it. Well...after I'd done that, it seemed...right. And he loved it when he found out. If only it had all been that easy. --- There's a name that always haunts me... And it slips from time to time... That's him... That's him... --- I never realised before how much Tom's name is broadcast on this ship. Mr Paris to Engineering. Mr Paris to Sickbay. Mr Paris to the bridge. Mr Paris to the holodeck. And every time I hear it, it hurts. --- There's a yearning that I feel... In my heart and in my soul... An old flame that'll never dim... That's him... I know, that's him... --- If only stopping loving him was as easy as starting was. But I gave myself to him more than I've ever given myself to anyone before. And when we made love...oh, his lips, his tongue, his hands...I'll never stop wishing I could feel them again. Even if I find someone else, I'll always remember Tom... --- That's me... Hanging on to the end... That's me... Starting all over again... That's love... Oh, that's the way it goes... --- I never thought it would end. Not like this. I thought we were together forever. But we weren't. And I know I'm starting again, but I would give anything to go back to how it was. Almost anything. He loves him. And if I can't have him, I want him to be happy. It took them such a short time to decide to move forward. I wonder if something *was* going on when Tom and I were together...no, Tom wouldn't do that. Neither would he. --- There's a woman in the chapel... In the back row by herself... That's me... That's me... --- And here we are. The wedding of the two people most unlikely to ever be together on this ship, if you'd asked me when we started. Tom and Chakotay. I certainly wouldn't have laid odds on it. Then again, Harry says that they never laid odds on Tom and I breaking up. At least the gamblers got two chances. Bitter? Yes and no. I should have known, after Tom's concern for Chakotay when he was on that planet. But we'd just started then, and I had no idea... I'm glad that they are happy, but I can't stay here any longer. Tuvok's in front of me, and he looks impassive, the way only Vulcans can, as I politely excuse myself. "Lieutenant Torres?" a whisper. "Yes, Lieutenant Tuvok?" "If you require any...assistance that I can provide, I will be available to you at any time." I almost fall over in shock. Tuvok offering to help me? Talk about the next most unlikely thing I ever thought would happen... --- And a man at the altar... Who says "I do," to someone else... That's him... That's him... --- The vows they speak are beautiful. And heartfelt. I listen to them from outside the holodeck chapel. I find that I can't leave, although I wish I could. And, strangely, someone else is beside me. I lean into strong arms, not crying, but thankful for the support. It's Tuvok. I still don't understand, but I'm grateful. So very grateful. --- As the wedding party leaves... Throwing rice and wishing well... A single tear falls silently... That's me... Oh, lord, that's me... --- Standing in Tuvok's supportive embrace, still not understanding, but wanting the strength he seems to want to provide, after the wedding party leaves the holodeck chapel for a sit-down dinner prepared by Neelix, I finally let the tears go. But I'm so drained of tears, that only a single tear falls. Tuvok gently traces the path with his finger, and I feel like the path has burnt a trail down my cheek. I've never been so affected by a single, simple touch. Not even Tom's. But I'm not ready for anything more. Even if he's offering it, I'm not ready. I whisper that, and he replied, "I know. But I will be ready when you are." I can't reply, and he leads me gently to the turbolift, and escorts me to my door. One more gentle caress, and he leaves. I watch him go and wonder if maybe I can heal. If I can, I know it will be with him. --- Oh, that's me... That's me... --- But first I must finish mourning Tom. I lie awake for hours, wondering what he and Chakotay are doing, whether they've had their first dance, or whether they've cut the cake, or whether they've left for their cabin. No, I'm not over him. But if anyone can help me go on, I think it's Tuvok. --- The End