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The Captain would admit to feeling the sting of having to deal with her chief engineer's ire, but all in all she thought it was worthwhile.
Janeway didn’t like the idea of breaching any member of her crew’s closely held convictions, but having to order B’Elanna’s life to be saved against her own wishes was something with which she had no doubts about being right.
As she walked away from section twelve of deck nine, she did ask herself how she would feel if her crew had decided to save her life against her own orders.
It was a relief to have the sight of Tom Paris walking in the other direction break her away from an ethical maze she didn't know she had the patience to navigate right now. She nodded in greeting as Tom stopped alongside her.
“Captain, how is she?” Tom began by asking. Janeway almost wanted to ask how Tom was but, she could see he was drawn and exhausted looking. This hadn’t been easy on him by any stretch of the imagination.
He glanced down the corridor towards section twelve as he continued. “I left her to cool off for an hour.”
Janeway nodded in response, before saying quietly to the helmsman, “I think you might want to leave it a little longer.”
Tom went to speak but the Captain continued.
“I’m afraid I may have stirred things up again but- the heat is probably off you.” Her voice was low, but her tone was warm and she cracked a trace of a smile.
After considering her warning, Tom responded “I should check on her.” She could hear the tenderness in his voice. Even though B’Elanna might be at odds with the both of them, it didn't mean that Tom was willing to be held at arms length.
“She’s not well.” He continued, excusing in his mind any behavior from B’Elanna he may find exceptionally difficult.
He paused a moment. Trying to bring forward the right words. “Thank you- for.” His voice was rough. She could hear the rawness in his throat.
Janeway nodded, “I’m the Captain, Tom. It’s part of the job.” She nodded her head. “Go-,” she ordered before adding “-and take care of her.”
“Yes Ma’am.” Tom nodded soberly before heading off.
****
B’Elanna didn’t look up as Tom entered her quarters. Her attention stayed firmly on her work and the Padd in her hand. The only indication she even acknowledged his presence was a slightly raised eyebrow. She stayed reclined on the couch, keying away as if he hadn’t entered the room.
The incense she’d lit an hour ago was still smoking away. It had a sulphury yet sweet fragrance, like Neelix's approximation of apple cake.
She’d had such raging energy. Furiously lighting incense and then ripping her uniform off and heading into the sonic shower.
From the outside Tom could see her shoulders were heaving as she stood, sonic pulses meeting her skin at maximum settings. He couldn't tell if she was crying or not. She may have just been that angry.
The relief of her coming around in sickbay, with painful yet treatable symptoms was quickly washed away when she realised what had happened.
An explosion would have been less impactful. She was on her feet despite the pain, a surgical tray was thrown across the room. Both Tom and the EMH were pleading with her, all Tom can hear himself say is over and over ‘Calm down, calm down, please calm down.’ Thinking about what this amount of stress was doing to her already traumatised nervous system.
The Doctor out of desperation used a tone he didn’t normally bring out for recovering patients. He loudly, and with absolute seriousness told her if she didn't lie back down out of her own volition, he would sedate and restrain her.
B’Elanna had looked right at Tom then- it was the last time they’d locked eyes. He saw the hurt, the rage. The sense of violation and breaking of trust.
All he could hear himself say was ‘Please-.’
And now- now she wouldn’t even look at him.
“Hi.” Tom said quietly as he stepped forward little by little. He tried to push his best bedside manner through and came out sounding overly cheerful. “Feeling any better?”
“Not particularly.” B’Elanna sounded annoyed more than anything. Like he was interrupting her vital work. She kept staring at her padd, keying away furiously.
“You look better.” He added hopefully. “Are you hungry?”
She shook her head. Still not looking up but, she looked weary. Tom could see how in need of rest she was. He knelt down in front of her, making it so much harder for her to not look at him.
He reached out and touched her arm gently, trying to keep everything on a calm and measured tone. “Maybe you should get some sleep.”
The moment his hand touched her bare arm she changed. She looked up with blazing eyes, seething and ready to boil over. “Stop it.” She spat. “ I don’t want to be coddled.”
Quickly realising his mistake, Tom withdrew, standing and folding his arms against his chest. Preparing himself for the onslaught that was about to happen.
Her voice raised, shades of hurt- betrayal- violation all bleeding through at once. “How could you let that- thing near me? You knew what my wishes were.” She was loud, but she stayed sat. That at least was a concession to how unwell she still was.
“It wasn't my choice.” Tom said quietly. He knew that was a weak point of defense but it had at least been true.
“You could have tried-.” She snarled.
Tom wondered if he should go and come back in another hour. That putting her through more stress was unthinkable but- but he couldn’t let that comment lie.
“No. I couldn’t.” He made his reply through almost gritted teeth. He was finding it hard to stay calm. He’d spent so much of today being professional and trying to be detached and he knew he couldn’t hold it back for much longer.
They both had emotional dams in danger of cracking and drenching- or drowning each other.
“Like hell was I going to stand between you and your life being saved.” He didn't shout, but his voice had an edge.
“I made my choice.” B’Elanna said slowly, but her rage barely contained.
“So did I.” Tom said much more calmly than a moment ago. He felt weary, and worse than that- he thought B’Elanna was starting to look worse. She looked paler. “No.” Tom shook his head as he decided that fighting right now had to be off limits, he stepped forward and knelt in front of her again, “B’Elanna- I’m not doing this now.”
“You can’t dictate that.” She hissed, her voice getting quieter, “You think I can just flip it on and off like a switch?”
“You’re not well.” He said softly. “You should take it easy.”
“Take it easy!” She shouted, exasperated. “How the hell am I supposed to take it easy Tom?” He wasn't sure if she was going to keep shouting or burst into tears. “I had that- things’ hands all over me- i had that Cardassian butcher on me. And you were supposed to stop that from happening.”
He understood her anger. She saw it as a betrayal, but she didn't seem to grasp that there really was no other way. There was no other acceptable outcome from this.
“What was I meant to do?” Tom heard himself getting louder. “Watch you die?”
“You know how I feel about having Cardassians anywhere near me-.”
To both their surprise, Tom lost his temper. He just couldn’t hold it down any more and found himself shouting, “And you think I don’t hate them? You think I looked at that hologram and didn’t feel hatred?”
It was a sobering moment. Tom had shattered the 24th century illusion of humanity with no prejudice. He took a few deep breaths.
“You think I just- fell into the Maquis by accident.” He managed, now quiet, barely above a whisper.
“My father was a Cardassian POW for six months. Six months of Starfleet officers at the door, never able to tell us if he was alive, or dead or ever coming home.” He spoke slowly, as if trying to digest the memory.
Recovering from his outburst, Tom gathered his thoughts together as he lowered onto the couch next to her. “I was raised to put aside my prejudices. And today I have had to fight all the way to hold onto that.” His voice was cracking, with emotion and exhaustion.
He turned to her, and could see her eyes were glistening with tears. “And I don’t have it in me to fight with you right now. I’m running on empty B’Elanna, and so are you.”
“You didn’t respect my choice.” She croaked, almost ready to relent- but wanting one final word on it. She rested her forehead on the heel of her hand, feeling overwhelming tiredness now.
His hand slid on to her arm and she didn't push back, she let him make contact. Tom had to resist gathering her in his arms with every fibre of his being.
He wanted her to know that this wasn’t about her being wrong. It was always going to be a losing situation. Only, this was the least worse outcome.
“No- I didn’t agree with it.” He said softly now. “That doesn't mean I don't understand your anger or think you should just get over it.”
Tom’s fingers caressed her arm, relieved that he was getting through to her enough to be able show her affection. He continued, “But right now, I don’t think us screaming at each other is going to help in any way.”
“So what do we do?” She was almost whispering, and sounded lost. Her anger had no direction to flow and was certainly not of any help to her.
“Sleep on it. You’re meant to be resting anyway.” He looked to B’Elanna, seeing her expression pulling to a grimace.
She faltered, and a gasping sob escaped uncontrollably.
Tom quickly steadied her, his arm quickly curving around her back, his other hand reaching for her face. “Hey, hey. It’s OK.” All the extreme of emotion had drained away into tenderness. At least now he could be of some use. His fingers smoothed at her hair.
“No,” she managed through her clenched jaw. “I’m really hurting.”
“OK.” Tom nodded soberly. “You want that hypospray now?”
“No.” She responded, her teeth gritted but still resisting.
Unwilling to argue the point, Tom pulled his arms around her frame, before standing and gently pulling her with him. “Come on, you need to lie down.”
They stepped a few paces and Tom felt B’Elanna unsteady on her feet. Her face was damp with sweat.
Dammit, Tom thought. He should have avoided an altercation. It had made her worse.
“Slowly,” Tom said, “I’ve got you.”
He went to help her gently to the bed but she held herself up while bent right over, pain running the full length of her spine. She felt Tom's hand stroking her shoulder. “B’Elanna, if the pain is that bad-.”
“I don’t want it.” She breathed.
He was sure now it was just stubbornness. Self punishment for being alive when so many Bajorans had died at Crell Moset’s hands.
“No, but you need it.” He added pragmatically. Gently he pulled at her and managed to get her to lie down.
He walked back to the couch, took the hypo from her sickbay discharge pack and walked back over to the bed.
Tom paused, holding the hypo where she could see it for a few moments.
She could have said no. Could have knocked the hypo out of his hand. Instead, after making no protest she let him press it to her neck.
“There.” He said as he started rubbing small, gentle circles on her back. “Give it thirty seconds.”
Her breathing started to slow, tension started to drop from her and then her eyes closed. “That’s it.” Tom said, pulling her hair from her eyes.
Moments later when she fell unconscious, he pulled a blanket over her.
Tom looked at her for a time. Watching her breath gently, seeing an eerie calm take over. He could have curled up on the couch but- he wanted to be next to her.
He wanted her to know that, even if they were going to disagree, to be at horrendous odds he wouldn’t be going anywhere.
And right now he wanted to have her close, to be some reassurance that nothing else was going to be allowed to befall her.
Tom kicked off his shoes, removed his tunic and turtleneck before settling into bed next to her.
“Computer- lights.”