Sickbay was in chaos.

Chakotay stood near the biobeds, encased in the nightmare. He'd arrived only a moment before, but in his confused state, that moment seemed to last an hour. He was aware that the doctor and several crewmembers currently in medical training were busily working on the captain, but he was unable to place the extraneous people. The only things he could grasp was that Tom Paris was not among those assisting the doctor, and that Kathryn's vital signs had not improved since his arrival.

Tuvok appeared, his emotionless demeanor bringing a soothing calm to the situation. Commander, I came as fast I could, stated the Vulcan as he moved to stand beside Chakotay. What is the captain's condition?

Chakotay was able only to say, I... I don't know. I've just been here a few minutes myself. I didn't want to interrupt -

Understood, Tuvok said, saving the distraught commander from having to explain. I can see from here that the doctor appears to have the situation well under control.

Just then the doctor halted his ministrations long enough to glare at a hapless crewman. No, you maniac! I said prozamine, not thresamine! You inject her with that and we won't have to worry about her dropping blood pressure because she'll be dead! Now fill a new hypospray, and do it right this time! The hologram paused to tap his communicator. Doctor to Paris! I need your help yesterday! Get down here!

The door to Sickbay swished aside and Tom entered in a rush. He wore athletic shorts and a shirt that hung unbuttoned from his shoulders. I'm here! Sorry! My comm badge -

Nevermind! barked the doctor. Take over the instruments. I want prozamine, now!

Okay, okay, I got it. Tom pushed his way to the storage locker and correctly filled the hypospray handed to him. With an efficiency that contradicted his usually indolent attitude, he injected the medicine into Kathryn's system, then turned to monitor the computer. No effect. Wait, there's a slight rise, but not significant. Another injection?

No! This time the doctor didn't bother to look up from his own instruments. Too much prozamine too fast can -

Induce shock. I remember. Sorry. Half my brain's still at the helm.

I need all of it here, Lieutenant, or you'll have a dead captain!

Right. Tom seemed unruffled by the hologram's brusque manner. I recommend one minute intervals between injections.

Excellent, Mr. Paris. You are learning something after all.

Don't worry, I won't let it go to my head, Tom quipped. He turned to instruct one of the assistants to prepare more hyposprays. And bring a surgical table over here - walking to the locker takes time we don't need to waste.

The doctor grunted at the suggestion. That should have been taken care of fifteen minutes ago. Keep alert, you trainees. A holographic sigh was the only sound, then the doctor murmured, Oh, Kes, how I miss you at times like these.

Blood pressure rising steadily, Tom reported.

Good. Once it's stabilized, we'll begin surgery to repair her lungs. Start preparations now.

Yes, Sir, Tom said, already carrying out the order as if he'd anticipated it. He probably had. Portable dermal regenerator! he called, and the minute somebody passed the device to him, he went to work on the blisters covering the captain's hands. Tricorder! he called next.

You're holding one, an ensign pointed out on his way to completing an errand for the doctor.

Tom looked down at the tricorder in his other hand and grinned. Oh. Thanks! He continued his work, running the tricorder across her hands. It looks like these blisters are from some kind of reaction to... this is weird... Water?

Water! Of course! The doctor took a moment to stare at the tricorder in Tom's hand. The benzonyte would have caused massive irritation to anything covered in water the minute it came in contact with it. Finally something makes sense!

Benzonyte? Tom questioned, a furrow puckering his forehead. But that's for protecting dangerous chemicals. What's it doing all over the captain's hands?

Good question, Mr. Paris. An even better one is: What's it doing in the captain's lungs?

You're right - that's a better question. I'll keep up the pre-op. Blood pressure is still rising. Pulse, fifty-four.

The doctor nodded, coming to a decision. Good enough. Let's do it.

Chakotay watched, fascinated, horrified, unable to look away as the team continued preparations for surgery. Don't let her die, whispered silently through his haze. Please don't let her die.

Commander, Tuvok broke through the mental pleas. Perhaps we should talk outside the medical facility. I naturally have questions that you can help me with.

Naturally, Chakotay parroted, but I'm not leaving. He felt more in control and calmer now that something was being done for Kathryn, but the fear still gripped tightly. There was nothing worse than that helpless feeling of watching somebody suffer and not being able to do anything to help. Two such occasions in less than forty-eight hours was more than he ever anticipated the need to handle.

Chakotay's refusal to leave did not surprise the Vulcan. Then we should move aside to give the doctor room to work, was his next suggestion. Chakotay nodded, and they relocated to the far side of the room, away from the frenzied activity near the biobeds.

Tuvok's questions did not begin immediately. When they were safely out of hearing of the others in the room, Tuvok said, Commander, before I begin, I must confess that I was... surprised... to hear you refer to the captain by her given name over an open comm channel.

Startled, Chakotay tore his attention away from the doctor to look fully at the lieutenant commander. What?

A strangely shy expression crossed Tuvok's face. Though I myself feel it is necessary for the chain of command to be in place at all times, even during off-duty hours, and most particularly during a crisis, I know that the captain has chosen to endorse a more relaxed policy over the years. Your use of her name gave me cause to wonder if -

Chakotay was stunned. Tuvok, she's lying over there practically dead, and all you can think of to say is don't call her Kathryn?

Now Tuvok looked flustered. No, I believe you misunderstand me, Commander. I was merely inferring that your evening's activities must have been more relaxing than Captain Janeway has allowed herself to enjoy in recent months. I was... Tuvok hesitated, as if he was trying very hard not to offend Chakotay. I was only expressing my -

Chakotay had heard enough, and at this point he was beyond politeness. Tuvok, are you worried about gossip? he asked harshly. He didn't think his relationship with the captain was worthy of notice, let alone gossip, and it irritated him that the Vulcan was so oblivious as to think it was.

Tuvok's discomfort grew. No, I -

Chakotay interrupted again. In case you missed it, I lived with her alone for four months, and let me inform you that we didn't spend the entire time calling each other by our titles! Any gossip the crew might engage in has come and gone years ago. Now stop it! There's more important things happening right now!

Tuvok's chagrin was extreme. I apologize, Commander. You have completely misinterpreted my intentions for mentioning this subject. I was only attempting to distract you from your concerns for the captain by making... social small talk. I have made an error, I think.

Tuvok was making small talk? Now, when the captain was stretched out on a table in Sickbay, two heartbeats from death? The evening was proving to be full of surprises. Well, your timing is a little off, Chakotay admitted more calmly, embarrassed at his overreaction to Tuvok's words. He wasn't sure what more to say. Part of him wanted to laugh, but he was also touched by the security chief's obvious solicitude. I'm sorry, Tuvok. You're right: I misunderstood.

Apology accepted. I will endeavor to perfect my 'timing' for use in future conversations, Commander.

I think that would be a good idea.

Tuvok's stance relaxed, and he went on to say, However, I do think you are mistaken about not being the possible subject of, if not gossip, then the crew's general interest. At the time of your call, I was within easy hearing of several junior officers. I could not fail to notice the expressions on their faces, and hence what thoughts were going through their minds.

This was another surprise to Chakotay. Maybe the crew knew something about the captain that he didn't know. He wished they could inform him of whatever it might be.

Before Chakotay could comment, Tuvok contritely continued, However, you can consider this subject closed. I will not mention it again.

Good. Chakotay ran his fingers through his hair, noticing in a detached way that his hand was shaking. He balled it into a fist. What were you doing that you were surrounded by junior officers? he asked, feeling suddenly tired.

I was on the Bridge, reviewing strategic maneuvers.

The Bridge? Aren't you off-duty, Tuvok?

I am.

Chakotay laughed mirthlessly. Don't you two ever stop working? he asked in amazement. He'd never realized until now how alike his fellow commanding officers were. No wonder they thought him something of an oddity; he occasionally allowed himself time to loosen up. But then, he wasn't running from anything - not any more.

Suddenly his curt laughter turned into a hard, racking cough. He doubled over, pain growing in his chest with each attempted breath. Arrested by the noise, Tom took a moment to cross to the commander and pass his tricorder over him in a quick scan.

You got a dose of that gas, too, Commander. It looks like you're in the first stages of shock. Here, this'll help. The lieutenant pressed a hypospray into Chakotay's neck, and a minute later his breathing eased. That should do it. Tom paused, then in a reassuring voice quietly said, Don't worry, Chakotay, she'll be fine. After a comforting pat on his superior's shoulder, he returned to his medical duties.

Tuvok glanced at Chakotay as if to say that his recent observations were proving valid already, but he chose not to comment. Perhaps it would help if you told me what happened, Commander.

Chakotay took a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand against his ribs. A glance towards the biobed informed him that the captain was still not out of danger, and he felt relieved to have a distraction. He nodded. Then he did his best to describe the scene in the captain's quarters exactly as he remembered it. Despite the medication, his hands continued to shake.

I don't know why the room was filled with gas. One minute everything was fine, the next.... His voice trailed away.

Did anything happen to alert you to possible danger? Tuvok asked, his head cocked thoughtfully to one side, his hands clasped behind his back.

No. Chakotay shook his head. It was just a feeling.

A feeling? Tuvok's brow rose in interest. Such as an alien scan or other outside influences?

Chakotay could tell where Tuvok was heading with this line of questioning. No, Tuvok, it was instinct, a gut feeling. Tuvok appeared confused. Chakotay sighed and admitted, The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

Tuvok's second brow rose to match the first. Very well. What did this... feeling tell you?

That something was definitely wrong. I made a remark about her needing a hobby, and she didn't answer.

I fail to see why that is unusual. The captain has no interest in hobbies that I know of.

That's not the point, Chakotay struggled to explain. The fact that she didn't answer at all is the point. I called out a couple more times, but I didn't actually do anything until I heard something hit the other side of the door. You know the rest.

Do you have any explanation for the presence of the gas in her quarters?

The commander shook his head. Something must have happened to the ventilation system, a mixup with the computer - I didn't take the time to find out.

Then that is where I will start my investigation. Thank you for your patience, Commander. Tuvok turned to leave, but hesitated just before the door. He returned his gaze to Chakotay, who was leaning tiredly against the bulkhead. Commander Chakotay, I suggest you get some rest. Surgery often takes several hours. But... if you plan to stay, I would appreciate it if you could keep me apprised of the captain's condition.

I will, Tuvok, Chakotay promised. He knew that the Vulcan felt as strongly for Captain Janeway as he did. He simply chose to show his feelings differently.

Thank you. Tuvok left.

Chakotay found a vacant chair and slid into it, making himself as comfortable as he could. The waiting began.

An hour later, he realized that Tom must have put a sedative in the hypospray he had given him. It was getting harder to retain his grasp on the events in Sickbay. The medical technicians continuously merged into one being, then separated again into the five individuals conducting the surgery. The activity around the captain's biobed had taken on a distanced, surreal quality, like he was watching the entire scene under water. He tried to keep track of what was happening, what they were saying, but he was unfamiliar with the medical terms being used. Eventually he had to admit defeat and surrender to the seduction of sleep. He just hoped the doctor knew what he was doing, and that he wouldn't let anything happen to Kathryn.

Voices. She heard voices, sounds, disjointed pieces coming from everywhere. Though overwhelming at first, she found their presence soothing nonetheless. Then the sounds engulfed her, filling her mind, invading her with noise from every direction. So many voices all at once frightened her. Just as suddenly, it all stopped. The sense of abandonment was so strong that she wished the voices would come back, even though they were frightening. But there was nothing.

Finally it ended. She was floating on a sea of black, waves undulating back and forth in a serene rocking motion. The waves congregated into a single image: that of a hand, laid gently on her forehead, the touch lending strength and bringing to her a deep contentment. At last she slept, not knowing if the hand was taken away or if it remained with her through the darkness.

When she woke later, the hand was gone. She experienced that same intense abandonment as before. She wanted to search for the hand, to feel that smooth, gentle touch again, but there was nothing to find. As she fell once more into unconsciousness, she knew that she was crying.

Tom issued a tired sigh, and the sound echoed in the quiet Sickbay. Surgery always wore him out. Though this particular stint as a medic hadn't taken as much time as previous ones, the amount of concentration needed had left him feeling drained. Even a thirty minute rest hadn't helped much. What he wanted more than anything was food and a shower, followed by an entire night of undisturbed sleep....

*Torres to Paris. Tom, where the hell are you?*

B'Elanna! Damn, Tom muttered. He'd forgotten all about his promise to meet B'Elanna for some time on the holodeck. He tapped his combadge. Paris here. B'Elanna, I'm so sorry! he apologized immediately. I was called to Sickbay; the doctor needed help with... you see.... Oh, hell, it's a long story, he finished on another extended sigh.

*You sound exhausted!* she exclaimed. *Don't apologize, Tom, it's okay. I didn't really want to play squash anyway... well, I did three hours ago, but -*

Tom laughed. He never would have expected the ship's half Klingon engineer to be so understanding, but since he'd managed to get to know her better, she frequently surprised him. I know - I was all dressed for a great game when the doctor called me. You should have seen his expression when I reported to Sickbay dressed in shorts. I never did have time to button my shirt!

*Oh,* she said, sounding flirtatiously disappointed. *Wish I'd been there. What happened?* she inquired.

Surgery, he explained. Look, it's a long story. I'll tell you everything, but I need something to eat. Care to meet me in the mess hall?

*Sounds good. I could use a snack right about now anyway, and I think you could use some company.*

Tom smiled in gratitude. Somehow she'd known her company was exactly what he needed. Thanks. Then he added, You know, I really like you, Torres.

*I like you too, Tom. I'll see you in ten minutes.* He could hear the smile in her voice.

Right. Paris out.

Nine minutes later he was sitting across from B'Elanna in the mess hall, happily spooning leftovers into his mouth while she watched him in amusement.

You better slow down before you need to go back to Sickbay, this time for indigestion.

No way! I'll live through the pain first. I've seen enough of Sickbay to last me the rest of the month!

What happened? she inquired, settling comfortably into her chair, a cup of tea in her hand.

Tom shook his head. The captain, he said around a mouthful of food.

Another allergic reaction? she asked, incredulous.

He shook his head again and swallowed. No. Nothing that easy. Somehow benzonyte gas flooded the lavatory in her quarters. With her in it.

Oh god, B'Elanna muttered, stunned. She was well aware of the effects benzonyte could have on Human physiology. Is she all right?

He nodded and continued eating. Chakotay was with her at the time. It's a good thing, too. She must have gone in to wash her hands or something, because -

She did what? Now B'Elanna was angry as much as incredulous. Benzonyte mixed with water... she might as well have put her hands in a bucket of acid!

Tom paused his meal to point out, I don't think she did it on purpose, B'Elanna.

Torres sat back, allowing herself time to regain her composure. You're right, of course. I'm sorry. It's just that... it sounds horrible.

It probably was. Her hands were covered in blisters. There's no way she could have triggered the door with blisters like that. Chakotay must have figured out that something was wrong and opened the door. He'd breathed some of the gas too.... He sat back as well, remembering, suddenly much too tired to eat. Wow, what a night!

B'Elanna shook her head in amazement. It's a wonder either of them survived. They were silent for a moment, both lost in thought. Then B'Elanna's brow furrowed. But this is really weird.

That's exactly what I said to the doctor. In fact, that's what he said, too. I think Chakotay was too dazed to appreciate the weirdness of the situation.

No, that's not what I mean. B'Elanna sat up, still thinking. Benzonyte isn't exactly a common gas. We don't have very much on board. The only thing we use it for is to store the extra dilithium in Engineering.

Tom perked, suddenly interested. We have extra dilithium? I didn't know that.

She shook her head, still distracted. Not many do. I've been keeping it in reserve, just in case we suddenly run out of our supply and can't find any to replace it.

Just think what extra dilithium could do, though, B'Elanna, he argued. We could have more replicator rations!

She eyed him disdainfully. I think it's a little more important to keep the ship running than to give everybody a few more ration credits, Tom!

He shrugged. Okay, okay. I suppose. It was just a nice thought.

She refused to be lulled by his ponderings. But how did benzonyte gas get in the captain's quarters? she asked persistently.

Tom shrugged again, then yawned. I don't know. A fluke with the computer maybe. Mistaking benzonyte for oxygen - isn't that possible? He propped his elbow on the table to cradle his head in his palm. Man, I'm tired! Surgery really takes it out of me.

She reached over to affectionately rub his arm. How's the captain now?

Oh, fine. You know the Voyager medical staff - we can save anybody. Miracle cures are our specialty. He grinned at her, and she grinned back, fully aware of his joke. The doctor could save anybody, perhaps, but the rest of the crew needed years of further training before they could be classed as miracle workers. The captain's just another example, you know, he went on. It'll take a day or so, but she'll be good as new. Chakotay too. He's in Sickbay now, being the vigilant first officer. He was out for awhile - I slipped him a sedative - but now he's awake and... hovering. His grin widened at the allusion, but a large yawn destroyed the effect.

It looks like you took the sedative, Tom, she observed. He still held his head with his hand, and even though he was grinning, his eyes were beginning to droop. You need some sleep before duty tomorrow. Come on, I'll walk you home.

Good idea. They rose and Tom recycled his leftovers. Once in the corridor, he reached for her hand.

B'Elanna smiled and gave his hand a comforting squeeze. I'm glad everything worked out and the captain's okay.

Yeah. Me too. But you know how things are. Nothing can happen to the captain, not with Chakotay around, Tom said sincerely, as if he was pointing out the obvious. I'm just glad I was able to help.

B'Elanna patted him on the back. At his surprised look, she said, You earned that, I think.

Thanks! Torres wasn't known for giving compliments, but when she did offer one, it meant a lot to him. Or it would tomorrow, after he'd had a nice long nap. Now for some sleep. Tom yawned again.

B'Elanna absently stroked the back of his hand with her thumb, but she wasn't really paying him much attention. She still had the oddest feeling, as if something just didn't add up. I wonder how benzonyte got in the captain's quarters, she said again, thinking aloud.

Kathryn pretended to be asleep long after she woke up the third time. She didn't want to disturb the warmth and comfort she gained from the quiet of the medical bay. She preferred to stay asleep where she could savor the fact that she was alive. Being alive was completely unexpected. During those moments when the tiny wash room was filling with gas and she had to gasp for breath, when she couldn't open the door because her hands simply wouldn't work, she knew with certainty that she was going to die. It was only a matter of time.

It was the amount of time that mattered in the end. The event had run its course before the allotted time was used. So she had lived, and it was a wonderful thing. And yet.... She thought that being alive would be even better if the hand would come back to touch her gently on the forehead, just one more time.

Chakotay stood quietly beside the captain's bed, watching her sleep. He'd been there for an hour already, and intended to stay awhile longer. He was still fighting the effects of the sedative Tom had given him, but he wasn't ready to retreat to his quarters to sleep it off just yet. More than anything he wanted to stay there beside her, to be available when she woke, to be her anchor if the disorientation of leaving such a deep sleep frightened her, but he couldn't ignore the messages from his own body for much longer. Catnaps were not enough to ward off the power of a sedative; he would be no use to her or anybody if he didn't stop soon. But for now he simply stood and waited, content in the waiting.

Once more he repeated the only thing he could do for her at this point. Chakotay gently touched his fingers to her forehead, smoothing her dark hair back from her face as he'd done several times since her surgery. Then he lay his palm flat against her cool skin, letting her know by his touch that she wasn't alone.

Kathryn continued to sleep, apparently oblivious of his presence and his touch. Her breathing was even, and she gave no signs of waking any time soon.

Chakotay's vision blurred suddenly, and he vigorously shook his head to clear it. This method had worked several times over the last hour when his fatigue began to overcome him. Still, a moment passed before he could see clearly again, and then he was forced to continually blink his drying eyes. Chakotay sighed heavily, feeling haggard and disappointed. It was no use - he couldn't wait any longer. His body was informing him more and more insistently that he needed sleep. He would have to leave her alone to take care of himself. He could hardly keep his eyes open as it was.

He took a last comforting look at Kathryn before he left. She was still sleeping. Chakotay gently smoothed her hair back once more, rubbed his thumb across her forehead just in case she might be aware enough to feel his touch, then turned to leave.

The doctor blocked his way.

Chakotay was so startled that he jumped involuntarily. He caught his breath, and when he had enough control of himself to speak, he said, I know what you're going to say, Doctor, so don't bother - I'm going.

Excellent, the hologram stated emphatically. I was beginning to wonder if I would have to drag you away for your own good. As of now, I'm ordering you off duty until you've had at least eight hours of sleep. Is that understood?

Chakotay nodded, and passed a hand tiredly over his face. The contact of skin on skin helped; for a second he felt practically invigorated. The feeling disappeared just as quickly. I hope I make it to my quarters, he joked lightly. The thought of laying down on his bed was suddenly very inviting.

Would you like me to call Mr. Paris to assist you? the doctor asked, taking his joke seriously.

Chakotay shook his head, unable to control his short laugh. The thought of the lieutenant doing everything but carrying the larger first officer through the ship's corridors was not inviting! No! That won't be necessary. I was just joking.

Hmm, the doctor hummed under his breath. A little bedside humor there, Commander?

Something like that. Chakotay sighed again. The sighs were the only thing keeping him awake. He nodded to the doctor and stepped towards the door.

The doctor stopped him with a hand placed gingerly on his arm. She'll be fine, Commander. The surgery was successful. Even I was impressed.

I know - Tom told me. And I thank you for.... He stopped, unable to go on. He had to breath deeply and shake his head again, but this time to clear the images from his mind, images of a dead captain.

The doctor's hand tightened into a reassuring grip. I believe this was a team effort, Commander. Without your quick thinking, or Tom Paris' unexpected expertise, I never could have saved her. The captain is very lucky to have so many people who care about her so much, he ended, purposefully casual.

Chakotay's piercing gaze fixed on the doctor. He was suddenly alert as one thought entered his mind: the doctor knew.

I have eyes, Commander Chakotay, the doctor explained sympathetically, as if he could read Chakotay's mind. I can't begin to understand the complexities of yours and the captain's relationship... my own expertise is limited in that area. I can only draw on my experiences, which as you know, have been... few. He quirked an eyebrow in a mixture of irritation and regret. Then he returned his attention to the commander, seemingly determined to press this subject to its conclusion. But surely the two of you have sufficient knowledge in this... I mean - The doctor stopped himself, feeling that he was quickly approaching delicate territory. He looked at Chakotay in consternation, then indelicately blurted, Surely you've told her how you feel!

Chakotay sighed, too tired to be having this conversation, though he had to smile just a little in appreciation of the absurdity of the situation. It really was amusing how the doctor was able to open this subject when every other person on the ship studiously avoided it. Perhaps there were advantages to being a hologram after all, he ruminated. Just as suddenly, he was too tired to put the doctor off. Yes and no, he answered with another deep sigh. I'll just say that my words weren't exactly straightforward, but she knows... more or less.

The doctor's brows lifted. Then why...? I don't understand.

Chakotay lifted his own hand to pat the doctor on his shoulder. Neither do I, Doctor. At least, not all the time.

Now the doctor's brows lowered in a frustrated scowl. Humans make no sense. Kes never confessed to having these problems with Mr. Neelix. Though she expressed other problems -

His smile came back. It's not that simple, Chakotay explained. He wished it were.

The frown deepened. Though displeased, the doctor knew he wouldn't get any further information out of the exhausted officer. He would have preferred to continue the conversation until he fully understood this couple's strange behavior, but he relented. Whatever you say, Commander.

Chakotay nodded. Please don't say anything about this to the captain. I think she has enough on her mind already.

Of course, agreed the doctor. He thoughtfully rested his chin in his hand, still uncomprehending. I'll let you know when the captain is awake and ready to see you.

Thank you. Chakotay turned, then stumbled tiredly over his own feet before heading for the door.

Are you certain you don't require help? the doctor said, but the commander waved a hand at him and disappeared out the door. The doctor pondered for a moment longer before heading off to his own pursuits.

Behind them, forgotten, Kathryn quietly shifted against the surface of the biobed. She blinked and stared fixedly at the ceiling of Sickbay, her thoughts filled with the conversation she had just overheard and the knowledge that went with it. If she had spent the last years wondering about Chakotay's feelings towards her, she had no excuse to pretend ignorance now. Just like the doctor had said, she too had eyes. Yet unlike the doctor, she refused to see.

Coward, she accused, bitterly disappointed in herself.

Chapter 3 || Contents || Chapter 5