Aftermath written by Maddie Mumford

Note :
This story was originally printed in the 'We'll Always Have Paris', Vol. 1 fanzine available through Unicorn Press

"There appears to be considerable neural pathway involvement. Secondary synaptic shunts are making it difficult to remove the implant"

"Is synaptic involvement of this nature common in such procedures?"

"I really cannot answer that, Doctor."

"Is the primary cause of difficulty his human physiology?"

"Partially. There were also unprecedented actions taken at the time of implant."

"Unprecedented in what way?"

"Let us just say, this was not a normal procedure, Doctor...I seemed to have missed your name."

"No, you did not."

Voices. He was so damned sick of the voices. Echoing and re-echoing through his mind, in his sleep, invading his conscious hours. The incessant voices of strangers. He wanted them out. With a sudden violent effort he reached out to push them away, but instead of pushing, he found himself falling against the empty blackness. Out of control.

******

In the corridor, shaded in dusky shadows of the ships night, the tall figure leaned against the bulkhead, arms crossed, staring, unseeing into the blackness. She approached cautiously, not certain how she would be accepted, nor if her presence would be rejected. Without speaking, she stopped next to him, her hands folded behind her back, there if he should decide to talk. For several minutes they stood together in silence, absorbed in the dance of light, as stars slipped by in streamers of warp driven color.

"Tom" she said quietly, hoping not to startle him.

He did not respond.

"Tom," she said again, stepping closer, and reaching out to touch his shoulder. He jumped, caught by surprise, then turned toward her. His face was obscured by shadows, yet she sensed a startling emptiness for the briefest moment, as though he had been in a meditative trance.

"It's lovely." Kes nodded toward the viewport. "I thought I would never find anything as beautiful as endless blue sky. But I have."

Tom Paris stared at her, his eyes slowly focusing. "So have I," he murmured, in a voice so soft Kes was not sure he had actually said anything. Then he turned to stare once more at the stars.

Kes could imagine the smile that would normally accompanied his words, and was embarrassed by the implication.

"I should apologize for startling you," she said to fill the oppressive and uncomfortable pause.

There was no response.

"The doctor didn't plan on releasing you for at least another 24 hours."

She heard Paris' soft laugh. "He didn't officially release me. I was tired of looking at the inside of sickbay, so I sorta released myself."

"You turned the doctor off?"

Kes did not know whether to be surprised or angry and decided in the end that she was neither. Kes hesitated. It was not her custom to eavesdrop in the emotional field of her friends on board Voyager, but she was concerned about Tom. He had been unusually silent since the removal of the Benean engrams almost a week ago. Too silent. Cautiously, she dropped her mental barriers and reached out to him. The initial rush of emotion was shocking, and she barely contained her gasp of surprise. He jerked toward her as though aware of the intrusion.

"Oh, Tom, I'm sorry." She felt her own eyes widen. "They haven't gone."

Paris looked quickly from her, to the floor, to the port. She could see the muscles of his jaw tighten, could almost feel his teeth clench. His entire body stiffened as though withstanding a physical assault, breath hissed through clenched teeth and he nodded once. Kes reached out to lay a hand on his arm, aware of the taut muscles beneath the thin sleeve of his shirt.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"What was I supposed to say?"

"None of our evaluations indicated anything was wrong. We had no way of knowing."

Paris was silent for a moment. His blue eyes darkened to shadows. Kes realized how pale he was, his skin grey from the starlight outside, darkening to hollows beneath his cheeks.

"I figured it would pass."

"But it hasn't. You're still experiencing the memories from the engrams even though they've been removed."

"Yeah." The admission was drawn from him with painful slowness. "I thought they'd be gone when the engrams were gone, but they're still there. The voices in my head."

Paris raised a hand to massage his temple. When he looked at her again, the corner of his mouth twitched into a crooked half smile. Reaching out, he gently traced a finger across her brow, as though erasing the worry lines.

"Hey, don't look so serious. It's not that bad really. More like a memory. A dream you can't quite remember. Not the same as they were." Paris took a deep breath, then rushed to amend his statement. "And they're fading."

Kes studied Paris, disturbed by the troubled look she had seen on his face before he had carefully masked the expression. "You should have told the Doctor."

Paris smiled again. "No, Kes, there are some things you just have to deal with alone."

"Demons" Kes responded softly.

"Yeah, you could call them that."

Paris turned to look once more at the swirl of stars and Kes wondered, how many other demons Paris had been forced to deal with. She had heard the stories circulating through the rumor mill, of his involvement at Caldik Prime and with the Maquis. None of that had seemed important to her. She realized, with an overwhelming rush of sympathy, that the thread of anger directed at the young human was far more tangible than she had expected. He must be painfully aware of his tenuous position on board Voyager, that he stood alone, a misfit among both crews. Even with Janeway's support, few let him forget, his past mistakes. Reaching out, Kes took him firmly by the shoulders, turning him to face her.

"Not alone, Tom. You have friends here now."

"I wish," he said with a deep sigh. Again he grinned, and Kes realized how easily he could bewitch an unsuspecting young woman.

"I walked into this one, Kes, with my eyes wide open, even after I was warned." Paris reached up and took her hands in his. "I knew what I was doing. I knew it was wrong. I did it anyway. I guess I got what I deserved this time."

Kes couldn't ignore the emphasis on the last two words he spoke. Was about to speak when they were interrupted by another voice.

"Kes?"

Slowly the Ocampa turned toward the intrusion, a deep sense of anger filtering through her complete absorption with Tom Paris.

"Neelix," she said, brightening as her companion approached. She freed her hands from Tom's as Neelix drew near, reaching out to embrace him and place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Kes, dearest," Neelix began, his arm encircling her possesively. "I needed to know if you had any fresh tenga to season today's soup."

Kes could feel the angry pulse of jealousy shiver through the Talaxian. "There is a whole bowl of tenga in the pantry, Neelix. I put it there last evening."

"Oh," Neelix seemed flustered, his reason for intruding on their conversation vanished. "Will you be along soon?" he asked. "I could use some help with breakfast."

Kes nodded, knowing full well he did not, actually preferring to have his kitchen to himself.

"Yes, I will be along."

"Well," Neelix, blustered, "I guess I will be going. Mr. Paris." Neelix nodded curtly to the human, then huffed away down the corridor, stalking as well as his short figure would allow.

Kes watched until he turned the corner, then looked at Tom, just as he stifled a chuckle.

"I apologize." she said quickly.

"Don't."

"He's jealous."

"I know," Paris said quickly, trying to brush aside the obvious tension.

"He really doesn't need to be."

"Don't be so sure." Paris said quietly. He reached out, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers. His hand dropped to his side and he quickly stepped away from the sheltered corner of the observation port. He stood in the center of the corridor, inclined his head toward her.

"Thank you, but I think you'd better go."

Kes hesitated, uncertain whether she wanted to leave him alone. He looked so vulnerable now, his defenses at a minimum, she was startled by his blatantly open honesty. Then she turned and walked after Neelix, looking only once over her shoulder to where he stood, motionless in the soft light. It would soon be morning, ship's time. She would check on him again later. In the meantime, she needed to find Neelix. And she needed time, to think, about Paris' simple admission.

THE END