ANGEL By Morticia 39/? ST: Voyager C/P Rating. SLASH, m/m NC-17 Archive: Anywhere, just let me know, please Disclaimer: Tom, Chak et al are Paramount's (lucky devils) Angel is mine (yippee!) Part 39   HARRY As the door closed behind him, Tom collapsed like a marionette that had abruptly had its strings cut. Wincing at the loud crack as his knees hit the floor; I rushed forward and dropped to his side, hugging him fiercely as he rocked in misery. "Why did you do it, Tom?" I asked him in bewilderment, having heard and honestly believed Chakotay's declaration of love. For a long time Tom didn't answer, he just leaned into the comfort of my arms as though he wanted to be absorbed right into the warmth of my body. "I can't take it anymore, Haz" he finally whispered "I can't survive being left again." "But why are you so sure that he will leave you?" I asked in confusion, conveniently forgetting that I had agreed with his reasoning earlier. "The tattoo" Tom replied quietly "I don't understand." "Chakotay told me Angel was living on Dorvan with his family. I know that Angel didn't have the tattoo when Chakotay last saw him so that means it was Chakotay's family that did it for him." "And that means?" I asked, bemused by Tom's line of thought "It means they have accepted Angel as being Chakotay's life partner." "But Chakotay is a grown man, he isn't bound by his family's wishes. Sure they might be upset if he returns with you instead of Angel, but that's his choice, not theirs." "Don't you think that Chakotay will have enough problems reconciling his choice without his whole family hating me?" Tom whispered. "I remember what it's like to be hated by everyone. I can't deal with it again. I won't cope and Chakotay will resent me and then he'll leave me again. He always leaves me when we have problems." I knew that Tom's logic was flawed, but I could also see it from his point of view. I doubted that Chakotay would leave him under the circumstances, but I could see that Tom wouldn't be able to deal with being ostracized. "You don't have to live on Dorvan, Tom. There's a whole galaxy of planets to choose from. You might even want to stay in Starfleet." "Sure, Haz, Starfleet always gives jobs to ex-criminals with a record of suicide attempts." Tom said bitterly. "They might offer Chakotay a job, but not me, not now." I feared Tom was correct. While his record on Voyager was excellent, not unblemished but then none of us had behaved perfectly for the last six and a half years, I doubted he would pass even the first stage of a Starfleet psyche evaluation. "Anyway, there's always the chance I'll have to go back to Auckland." Tom muttered sadly "No way, Tom." I spluttered angrily, "We have already received notification that the Maquis are going to be pardoned. They can hardly hold your old sentence against you and let the others go." Then I had a sudden thought. "What did your father's letter say?" I asked curiously, I knew that there had been a letter for Tom in the stack of messages from Angel's ship. "I don't know, I haven't read it" Tom confessed "Why the hell not, Tom?" "I was too scared" he whispered "I couldn't handle any more bad news today." I could understand that, although after his father's last transmission I was positive he had nothing to worry about. "How about I read it first Tom and check it's okay?" Tom looked up at me gratefully "Would you, Haz? And - and if it's bad, don't tell me, okay? Just wipe it and don't mention it again." He said sadly "Sure, Tom." I replied, "Why don't you go and lie down again while I do that?" His sad, exhausted eyes met mine for a moment and I knew that he understood what I was really saying, that I wasn't going to take my eyes off him unless I knew he was safely out of harms way. "Okay, Haz" he said in defeat and shuffled to the bedroom, his limp more pronounced because of his sheer exhaustion. Sadly I watched him go, more concerned by his immediate agreement than anything we had talked about, not relaxing until I saw him climb under the bedcovers, then I turned to the terminal and accessed his letter.     (Three weeks later) KATHRYN The ship was a veritable hive of activity. People were scurrying everywhere in their frenetic preparations for the journey home. There was a strange mixed atmosphere of excited happiness and dread. Enough rumors had flown in the last three weeks to make everyone sit back and take stock of their own situations. Since the successful installation of the new warp drive, the return home had become a real possibility and tangled inexorably with the excitement was a fair amount of worry. People had made new relationships over the years; a lot of people were going back to a similar scenario to that which had faced Chakotay. It had been vividly brought home to everyone that our triumphant return would bring as much unhappiness to our loved ones as relief. Even those people, like Sam, who had remained faithful, realised that they had grown and changed into new people who might no longer fit in with their previous lives. Our experiences in the Delta Quadrant had inevitably changed us all. We were no longer the same people who had set foot on Voyager's maiden voyage all those years previously. The Starfleet crew were unsure of their future. Despite my initial desire to keep the ship running under strict Starfleet rules and reg's, inevitably rules had been bent and broken in our effort to survive so many years alone in space.  The thought of being re- assigned onto other more-regulation ships, now we had forged this close-knit community, was more than a lot of people could face. Then there was Seven. She was dreading reaching Earth. All of B'Elanna's reassurances were of no avail. Seven was positive that the Starfleet scientists would insist on examining her Borg implants and that the Hansens would be appalled to discover that their only grandchild was a Borg drone. B'Elanna had told me that they would probably disembark at Deep Space 9 and go to the Klingon homeworld instead. My family was already breaking up and we hadn't even reached the Alpha Quadrant yet. At least Admiral Paris had the foresight to send us official notification of the intended pardon for the Maquis members of my crew. That, at least, was one worry that we could put aside. Harry had also informed me that Tom's sentence had been commuted into time served. He had apparently read Tom's personal letter from his father. The Admiral had used the letter in an attempt to build bridges with Tom, he was eager to take Tom back into the family. That, at least, was a crumb of comfort for the pilot. I still was unsure of why Tom had chosen to turn Chakotay away. I was uncertain whether his decision was right or wrong and I had decided that it was not my business to pry any further. Tuvok had kept me informed of the progress of his counseling sessions but had only told me the bare minimum necessary for me to know in my role as the Captain. What other secrets he discovered remained private between him and Tom. My actions in Tom and Chakotay's relationship had been unforgivable. This close to a way home, I could finally admit to myself that the pressure of being Voyager's captain and responsible for so many lives for so long had simply become too much to bear. Nobody should be expected to carry the burden I had for so long. No Starfleet Captain had ever had to face the terrible decisions that I had made without any support. Even the legendary five-year mission of the original Enterprise had been within communications range of Starfleet headquarters. It was not surprising that I had finally allowed my emotions to overcome my training. It wasn't an excuse, but it was an explanation. Besides, my actions had not turned out to be completely wrong. Admittedly, if I had never interfered Tom and Chakotay would have been married and Tom would not have had his breakdown. On the other hand, if I hadn't suggested the delay, Tom wouldn't have bought a wedding ring on Y'ndoria and so we would have never learnt about the V'rakn'hal. Admiral Paris's son would have been returned to him sounder in mind, but in a wheelchair. Like Tuvok said, things weren't black and white, they were various shades of grey. As for Chakotay, he was back on duty. Angel had moved into one of the guest quarters and was obviously biding his time, sure that Chakotay would eventually come back to him.  It was pathetic really. Although I was concerned for Tom's emotional state, his proud rejection of Chakotay was far more admirable in my opinion than the way Angel was obviously content to accept ultimately being Chakotay's second choice. In the meantime, though, Angel was being invaluable in the preparation of Voyager for the journey home. He had a brilliant scientific mind; quickly adapting his technology to fit in with the Borg adaptations that had been installed during our long voyage. He even had fitted in well with the crew. Despite the general antipathy towards Chakotay, which admittedly was lessening as people started to empathize with his position, Angel's stunning beauty quickly overcame almost all hostility. He was almost Borg-like in his ability to neutralize all resistance to his charm. And of course it helped that he had brought us a way home. The only real fly in the ointment was that I didn't have a good enough pilot for the journey through the wormhole. The only member of the crew with the necessary skill to successfully navigate it was Tom and there was no way I was going to let him do it. Quite apart from the immense pressure to perform that would be heaped on his fragile shoulders, I couldn't risk the lives of the crew on a pilot with a death wish. I knew that he would do his best, would never intentionally put our lives at risk, but then again Tuvok had confirmed to me that Tom's suicide attempt had been done in a fugue, it had been a virtually subconscious reaction to his grief. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't re-lapse under the stress of the moment. It seemed so unfair, that after his many daring exploits at Voyager's helm, he would be denied the honor of finally guiding her home. TBC