The BLTS Archive- My Chakotay
#6: Shadows
by MaisieRita (MaisieRita@aol.com) 

---

copyright 1998

Disclaimer: Disclaim disclaim Paramount disclaim. Yadda yadda yadda.

Warning: A little bit of subtle sex. Weird psychological whatnots and
whazzits. Not quite as angsty as the previous parts but they can't
*all* be chock full 'o angst.

Feedback: Please! All constructive comments will be seriously
considered.

Grammar nits welcome. <g>

---

It's only a five-minute walk back to my quarters, but it feels like it
takes an hour. Tom flinches every time we pass a crewmember -- no,
every time we pass a *male* crewmember -- and by the time we reach my
deck, he's shaking so hard I'm afraid he'll collapse.

I've never seen him like this.

I'm petrified for him. I don't know what the demons will do to him. I
don't know how to make him safe.

When we make it to my quarters, I have to practically drag him inside.
He falls to the floor, huddled on his knees, silent and shivering. The
door shuts behind me and I stand next to him, hesitant and afraid. I
stroke his shoulder gently. "Tom?" He looks up at me, and I'm
staggered by the fear in his eyes. For once, he doesn't seem to know
what to do to make the monsters go away.

I wait for a minute for him to speak, but when he doesn't, I do it.
"Will it help?" There's no need to explain what I'm talking about. Tom
and I only do one thing together.

"I d-don't know," he answers, and hearing the nervous stammer makes me
more anxious still. If that's possible.

He's hunched in on himself, as if trying to ward off an attack, and I
voice the obvious question. "Are they in here?"

He actually looks around before answering. When he does speak, his
voice is hesitant.

"No."

I nod, relieved. "They stayed in the mess hall."

"No. They followed us; they were in the halls, they took all the men."
He looks around again, wild-eyed. "They didn't come in here. I don't
know why. It must be you..."

"Me?"

"They must be afraid of you. You killed one."

I have no idea what he's talking about. I'm afraid he's hallucinating.
All the signs point to a nervous breakdown, but . . . I'm not
convinced. "I didn't kill anything, Tom."

He's insistent. "You did! When it tried to take you, it died. I saw
it..." He starts shaking again, and I kneel down next to him and pull
him into my arms, stroking his back until the tremors subside. We sit
there for a while, and eventually his breathing evens out. His back
relaxes fractionally, and for a minute, I wonder if he's fallen asleep
in my arms. But,
"Chakotay?"

"Yes?"

"Can I . . . would it be all right if I . . . " His voice trails off
but his hands begin to move. Slowly, as if he's afraid I'll protest,
he reaches for the fastenings of my uniform, sliding the singlet
gently off my body.

I'm not at all convinced this is a good idea, but I don't think I
could refuse Tom anything right now. Not when he's looking at me with
so much desperation in his eyes. Especially when I know that this may
well be all he needs to banish the demons back where they came from,
to give him back control over his fears.

He doesn't even remove his own clothing before he takes me in his
mouth, and I'm lost as always in the sensations he wrings from me.
He's astonishingly good at this, and I spare half a thought to wonder
where he learned the skill. I have a dreadful suspicion that I already
know the answer, but then his mouth moves on me more quickly and I
can't think at all. I can only feel him, god, can I *feel* him. I'm
moaning continuously, knowing that I'll never last, knowing that he's
pushing me harder and harder until . . . until . . .

I don't scream, but it's a near thing. I cry out his name and explode
into pleasure, flailing wildly for a desk, a chair, for something to
hold on to. Tom grips my waist and steadies me, holding me upright
until the shock waves have passed and I'm able to stand for myself.

He never removed his clothes. He's not aroused beneath his uniform.
Damn it. It was like this in the beginning, Tom pleasuring me without
gaining the slightest pleasure for himself . . . I wonder if we've
lost all the progress we fought so hard for.

He's still trembling and I get worried, reaching for his shoulder and
finding it hard as steel beneath my fingers. That's never happened
before. My climax always triggered a kind of catharsis in him, a
physical release that had nothing to do with orgasm.

"Tom? Are you all right?"

He struggles for breath. "I don't know."

Now I'm really worried. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I thought . . . I thought it would make it better, but
it didn't, I'm still afraid . . ." He gasps for breath. "I don't think
it worked, Chakotay. I can still feel them out there."

He's still shaking and I try to lead him, gently. "You can sense
them?"

"Yes." He gasps for breath again. "No. God, I don't know. I never
should have let them out."

"Let them out? From where?"

"My dreams."

Oh god. "What do you mean, you let them out?"

"I should have been more careful. They escaped, I wasn't watching . .
. I wasn't strong enough, I wasn't paying attention . . . I didn't
mean to let them out, I thought I could handle it, I had to try, for
B'Elanna, but I *knew* they were getting stronger and now they're out
. . ." He's rambling disjointedly and he starts shaking more
violently, wrapping his arms around himself in a futile attempt to
stop it.

I wrap my arms around his, hoping that my strength added to his will
be enough to contain the tremors. Remarkably, it is. The tension
drains from him, a little, as we sit intertwined on the floor.

We sit there for a long time. Tom's breath gets a little bit steadier
as the time passes, but the knots of tension still remain in his back.
I have no idea what to say. I can't pretend I understand about the
demons -- how he can see them, how they can possibly have escaped from
his dreams, what he means when he says they took the men -- but I know
that he's frightened and that making him talk about it is frightening
him more. I tighten my arms around him and we wait. For what, I don't
know.

I don't know how long it's been when the door chimes.
"Chakotay?"

It's B'Elanna. I glance at Tom and he looks back at me with ineffable
sadness in his eyes. I call out "come in" without thought, completely
forgetting that I'm not dressed.

B'Elanna walks in and stops short at the sight of us wrapped around
each other on the floor. Fortunately, Tom's body is blocking all of my
. . . essentials.

She's staring at us and I stare back calmly. This thing -- what I have
with Tom, what I do for him -- is nothing that she can comprehend,
nothing I can explain, but it's nothing to be embarrassed about.

She doesn't look angry, just tired, and waits for one of us to speak.
We don't. My arms are still wrapped around Tom and I note absently
that his tremors are coming back. Oddly, I don't think it's B'Elanna
that's making him nervous. He keeps staring at the door. I wonder if
he saw a demon outside when the door opened. I wonder if one came into
the room and is here now with us. I grip him a little tighter and he
relaxes into my embrace.

We're all still silent, and B'Elanna finally walks into the bedroom
and retrieves a blanket, tossing it to me so I can use it to cover
myself. I do it, wordlessly, and she paces around the room until she
can't take it any more and drops onto the couch.

I can see her struggling to understand it, puzzling over Tom's
clothing and my lack of the same, wondering at the protective circle
I've formed around him with my arms, trying to find logic in something
that's ultimately illogical. She speaks, finally, in a quiet and
resigned voice that's aimed only at Tom. "Are you going to be okay?"

It takes him a few seconds, but Tom manages to get to his feet.
Shakily, he crosses the few meters to the couch, collapsing next to
her and lacing his fingers with hers. "I don't know," he says
honestly.

She turns to him, ignoring me, and searches his face. "I love you,
Tom."

He winces to hear it. "I know."

"You don't love me." Her voice is flat, completely emotionless.

He sighs and closes his eyes, dropping his head back on the couch.
"It's not you."

"It's not me, it's you?" she says sarcastically.
"*That's* original."

He's exhausted. "It *is* me."

"And you figure Chakotay can give you what you need? Are you in love
with him?" She still doesn't look at me.

He blinks, and his eyes travel reflexively to mine.

"No," he says honestly.

B'Elanna's eyes dart to me to see how I take the news.
I remain relaxed on the floor, wrapped in the blanket.
If she expected me to be devastated, she's disappointed. I never
thought Tom loved me. That's not what this is about. I've known that
from the beginning.

"I don't understand," she says finally, and I hear defeat in her
voice.

"I know," Tom says simply. He's defeated, too. "I can't love you how
you want, B'Elanna. They won't let me."

She frowns. "Who won't let you?"

A miserable whisper. "The demons."

She stares at him, fear flashing across her face. For an instant, she
thinks he's gone insane. But a minute later her face softens, and all
she says is, "You need to see the Doctor."

"No."

Surprising us all, I insist. "Yes."

Tom stares at me. He looks utterly betrayed.

"Tom," I say softly, "you're not well. You're seeing ghosts-"

"Not ghosts," he corrects instantly, frowning.
"Demons."

"Demons," I allow. "We need to understand why. Maybe the Doctor can
help you . . . maybe he can make them go away."

He sighs and drops his head in his hands. "You think I'm crazy."

My eyes meet B'Elanna's across the back of Tom's head and I see my
thoughts mirrored. "No," I say. It's not completely a lie. "I think
you're sick."

Tom's shaking his head. "I'm not crazy," he says softly. "I'm *not*."

"You still need to see the Doctor, Tom." I hate to insist when he's so
miserable about it, but I don't have a choice anymore. For a while, a
long while, I thought we could heal him, that he and I together,
alone, could make his monsters go away. We were wrong. *I* was wrong.
Guilt settles in my stomach, leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

"You're going to have to see him. The Captain knows, Tom," B'Elanna
says quietly.

Tom looks like he's going to cry. "You told her about the demons?"

"About everything," B'Elanna says. "The nightmares, the cramps, the
vomiting. The drugs you thought I didn't know about."

I have to bite my lip to restrain myself from speaking. What cramps?
*What* vomiting? I knew he wasn't well, but this is worse than I'd
feared.

Tom's gaze flashes to her, wide-eyed and indignant.
"You had no right-"

"She's the Captain," B'Elann says patiently, squeezing his hand. "She
deserves to know." They sit silently for a minute and I finally rise
to my feet to pull on my robe.

"I'm not crazy," Tom insists finally, turning his eyes to me,
practically pleading for help.

"We didn't say you were," I answer. "But you're sick. You need help."

Tom's shaking his head, but B'Elanna pulls him to his feet. "Come on,"
she says softly, and leads him towards the door. I don't even try to
follow. If Kathryn knows, I'm going to be in enough trouble as it is,
without showing up in Sickbay in my bathrobe.

As they leave, Ken Dalby walks past on the way to his cabin, and I
swear I see a faint black shadow over his head. But then I blink, and
it's gone.

---

Tests. I hate them. Invasive, intrusive, demeaning. "I just need a
small amount of blood, Lieutenant." "Mr. Paris, please lie still while
I run this scan." "Let's talk, Tom. We can start with the accident . .
. "

It takes a week.

I'm going stir-crazy by the end of it, and I'm bored. These
evaluations haven't changed much in the past ten years. The only
difference is, I've only got one doctor here instead of five, so it's
taking five times as long. The rest of it is the same though. Test
after test after test.

They won't let me see Chakotay.

The Captain is angry with him. She doesn't understand; she thinks he
was taking advantage of me in my 'confused mental state'. She's so
wrong -- if anyone was taking advantage, it was me. Taking advantage
of his kindness, his strength, his serenity . . . taking advantage of
his willingness to help me at all hours of the day or night, no matter
what he was doing or who he was doing it with . . . taking advantage
of his easy acceptance of my demands, and his ability to help me
remove the taint from an act that I'd thought permanently defiled . .
. taking advantage of his beauty and his joy to banish the demons who
thrive on pain and suffering.

I try to tell her that, but she looks at me like I'm nuts and goes to
talk to the Doc again.

Shit. They all think I'm crazy. Maybe I am. I don't know, anymore.

Harry comes to see me, but I can't talk to him. He brings the demons
into Sickbay with him. They hover over him like a large black cloud,
swirling around him like some sort of localized tornado. Every once in
a while, one slips into his body, forcing another one out. There are
too many, I guess, for the men on board, so they have to take turns.
There are a lot of them around Harry; I don't know if they're
attracted to him because he's my best friend, or in spite of it. He
doesn't even notice them, doesn't know that they're living in his
body, but they're affecting him. The way he's looking at me . . .
there's something in his eyes, something more and less than
friendship.

Seeing that look makes me nauseous, but I'm not as afraid now. If they
wanted to attack me, they would have done it already. They don't.
Instead, they just take the men, one by one, like they're on some sort
of rotation. Unfortunately, when Harry leaves, some of the demons stay
behind.

Thank god the Doc is a hologram.

It's been eight days since I've seen Chakotay, since I was able to do
what I needed so badly to do. I've got a little of my control back.
Enough so I'm not shaking, enough so I can eat, enough so I can sleep
again at night without the drugs. Actually, the nights are kind of
peaceful now. The demons are out here. They don't need to come for me
in my dreams.

I realize Chakotay's approaching long before he enters Sickbay. The
demons Harry left behind are very agitated. If I listen closely
enough, I can almost hear them talking, planning their attack . . .

Chakotay comes in through the door. Immediately, he's surrounded by a
black cloud. Just as quickly, the demons start to die. One after
another after another. I'm entranced by the sight, and don't even see
the Captain walk in close on Chakotay's heels. I only realize she's
there when she taps on my shoulder and calls my name.

"Captain," I answer, startled.

The Doctor approaches, padd in hand. "Good," he says perfunctorily,
taking in all of us with one quick glance. "You're here. I've
completed my examinations." He stresses the plural, so they know he
was thorough, that he didn't miss a trick.

"What's the prognosis, Doctor?" Janeway asks, with a quick worried
glance at me.

He's quiet for a minute and I swear he's confused, staring at the padd
like it's written in Kazon script or something. "I've run an
exhaustive battery of physical and psychological exams."

I have to stifle a chuckle. Exhaustive? Exhausting? Same difference.

The Doc's continues. "All the signs point to a classic schizophrenic
break: Mr. Paris's paranoia, his visions of monsters, his unreasonable
obsession with someone he believes has the power to save him."

We all hear the 'but' coming.

"But-" He frowns. "I can't find any neurological evidence of
schizophrenia. Nor of any other mental illness."

I sigh. I knew it. I've been through this before. "I told you I wasn't
crazy," I say petulantly.

"Yet you're seeing ghosts," he reminds me.

Before I can open my mouth, Chakotay interjects, "Demons," and I flash
him a grateful smile. The smile he sends back my way is strained.

The Captain isn't too pleased with the Doc's announcement. "What's
your explanation then, Doctor? Stress-induced hallucinations?"

The Doctor shakes his head. "Possibly. To be completely honest . . . "
He takes a deep holographic breath. "I have no other explanation. I'd
like to run a few more tests . . ."

I hear the words 'more tests' and tune out. Good god, haven't we run
out of them yet? Before, when the ghosts came, they ran tests for two
weeks straight before giving up. I never did find out what they wrote
in my file. I wonder what the Doc will write there now.

The Captain pulls the Doctor to the side and they disappear into his
office. Chakotay stays out here with me. I'm relieved. Just being near
him makes me stronger, somehow. The demons stay away from him. They're
huddled into a dark straining mass hovering over the biobed next to
mine. With Chakotay near me, I can ignore them. He keeps me safe.

---

Tom's watching me. I try to flash him a grin, but it doesn't make it
to my eyes, and he picks up on it instantly.

"What's wrong? Is the Captain giving you trouble?"

I shrug. "She's not too happy with me, but she's more concerned with
you." I pace a bit. I've been so worried about him, I haven't been
able to sleep. Seeing him here, for all appearances sane and healthy,
is doing wonders for my shattered nerves. "I think I'm on probation
until she hears what the Doctor comes up with."

He snorts. "He's not going to come up with anything. They didn't the
last time."

He's dropped references like that before. "The last time you saw the
demons?"

"Ghosts," he says flatly.

"I thought you said they were demons?"

"*This* time they're demons. *Last* time they were ghosts."

I nod as if I understand, and study the floor. Out of the corner of my
eye, I see a shadow pass over the neighboring biobed, and I turn
reflexively to see what's casting it. Of course, there's nothing
there. We're alone in the room. When I turn back to Tom, he's staring
at me, eyes wide.

"What . . . " he starts, darting a glance back at the empty biobed.
"What were you looking at just now?"

"Nothing," I say. "It wasn't anything."

He's waiting, expectantly, so I sigh and explain, "It was just a
shadow, Tom."

His whole body stiffens. "What kind of shadow?"

"A non-existent one. It's gone now."

He hesitates, and I can see him trying to pick the best words. "You
can't focus on it? You try to look straight at it and it disappears?"

I frown. "Yes."

He swallows. "Dark gray? A few meters in the air?"

"I suppose. Why?"

He ignores my question. "Have you seen any before?
Shadows that weren't really there, I mean."

I humor him. "Once or twice."

"When?"

"I don't know." I try to think. Honestly, I haven't been paying a lot
of attention to them. I've been too distracted thinking about him to
worry about shadows that appear and disappear in the space of one
breath. "In the hallway sometimes. Once when I was talking to Harry
and Tuvok. Not very often. It's probably just my eyes playing tricks
on me."

He shakes his head slowly, and when he looks at me, there's a curious
relief in his eyes. "Shadows that shouldn't be there? That's *them*."

It takes a second before his words sink in, but when they do, I feel a
chill run through me that has nothing to do with the room temperature.

Tom's voice drops to a whisper. "It's the demons, Chakotay. You're
seeing them too."

---

The End