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Disclaimer time once again! Forty-second verse same as 
the first . .everybody *sing*:

I don't own these characters, (chorus) Paramount does!
I don't own this venue, (chorus) Paramount does!
I am making no money off of this, (chorus) Paramount does 
not either!

This story does *not* involve sex between two men, yet. 
But, again, it will, later.  If that is *not* your cup of tea, sweet 
as it is, then don't read it!  (simple, ain't it??)  Feedback is 
*very* much appreciated, and always answered.  Flames will 
be passed around to friends and chuckled over.  :)

This is the sequel to 'Adversaries', 'Allies', 
'Acknowledgement', 'Argument', 'Advantage', 'Attrition', 
'Awakened', 'Assertiveness', 'Absolution', and 'Adored'. 
<whew>

Yes, a character dies.  Because I said so.  

MAJOR WARNING!!!  MAJOR WARNING!!!  MAJOR 
WARNING!!!


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Tom, Harry, and Chakotay were on the planet's surface 
investigating the most recent beacon they'd discovered. 
They'd found quite a number of them in Voyager's journey 
through this system, and each one had given them more 
navigational information than the last.  They seemed to be 
following them in the reverse order they had been left behind 
in; the first one had very little in the way of star charts, more 
along the lines of cultural background.

Each subsequent beacon had offered a deeper 
understanding of the system Voyager was about to pass 
through, and beyond.  The culture had warp technology, 
going from system to system to find a new home close to 
the one they'd left behind.  The Captain was convinced that 
if they could follow them, they'd have more data about their 
upcoming trip than they knew what to do with.  Janeway had 
taken Voyager to explore a nearby beacon on another planet 
in this system, figuring the three officers on this one could 
take care of themselves until the ship returned in a couple of 
hours. She should have known better.

Chakotay was silent for the most part, watching the byplay 
of Tom and Harry together.  He caught himself thinking of 
these two fondly many times, and knew his anger at himself 
was lessening.  He was still dealing with the jealousy that 
had doomed his relationship with the pilot from the start.  
But, the pain of losing Tom as a lover had greatly 
diminished, since he and the Lieutenant had maintained a 
strong friendship.  He and Harry had found themselves 
becoming closer in the wake of their shared affection for 
Tom and it was also turning into a friendship he cherished. 
He knew how good Harry was for Tom, and Tom for Harry, 
and felt relief that things had worked out between them.  

Now, he just listened to the two of them, catching the 
meaningful looks they were tossing one another, as they 
recorded the information from the beacon.  It was slow, but 
coming along.  The technologies weren't perfectly 
compatible, and there was a lot of data to download.  

Chakotay cocked his head, hearing a faint rumbling sound. 
Small bits of rocks bounced down from the cliffs overhead, 
gravel, really, but it was starting to make him nervous, for no 
apparent reason.  He was beginning to get a really bad 
feeling about it, and opened his mouth to say something, 
when the rumbling grew louder, catching Tom and Harry's 
attention.  They looked up, not seeing the problem until it 
was almost on top of them.  No longer was the debris simply 
gravel, what was heading for them now, was a piece of the 
cliff face. And there was no where to go.  

Chakotay yelled for Tom and Harry to get to the cliff, it 
meant heading directly for that hunk of rock, but their 
chances would be better at avoiding the other pieces the 
larger one was knocking loose.  They nearly made it, it was 
such a close thing, but one fair sized boulder came 
bouncing down, and headed right for Tom.

Tom heard Harry yell, and looked up to see a piece of the 
damned cliff coming at him. He dodged right, but the boulder 
bounced the same way and nailed him, knocking him off his 
feet and sending him partway down the hill before he came 
to rest against a tree.  

Tom wondered for a moment why he was still alive and 
looked down toward his feet.  He wished he hadn't.  The 
pain in his neck and back was incredible, but the rest of him 
hurt a hell of a lot worse.  He took shallow, agonizing 
breaths, trying to remain calm, before realizing that he *was* 
calm, and resigned.  He could do the math; Voyager was 
still over an hour away, unreachable, and he was pretty well 
smashed from chest to groin.  This was it, huh? Not too bad 
for him, actually.  But, oh, gods, *Harry*.

He heard shouting and saw the two of them heading for him. 
Harry's descent was a barely controlled fall, and he opened 
his mouth to tell his lover to be more careful, before he got 
himself killed.  He found the irony amusing, leaving 
Chakotay and Harry to wonder at the grin on his face, when 
they finally reached him. 

Harry got to him first, by a halfsecond, dropping to his 
knees.  The look on his face was panicked and horrified.

"Har, it's okay," Tom said, softly, as Chakotay knelt, whipped 
a medical tricorder out of the small medkit and began 
scanning him. Tom watched the man's dark skin pale, and 
met the pained eyes when they looked up.  He could see his 
death written there.  He'd never truly understood that 
phrase, but he understood it all too well, now.  "It's okay," he 
repeated, letting Chakotay know that he knew there was 
nothing to be done.

Chakotay saw the acceptance on Tom's face and part of him 
wanted to rail against it, even knowing it was pointless to do 
so.  He shot Tom with a painkiller, wishing he had 
something else to offer him. To help his breathing, they 
eased his body out along the ground, gently, but he was 
feeling nothing, thanks to the Commander.  He looked up at 
Harry, tears streaming down his lover's face, unnoticed.

"It's not so bad," Tom said quietly, contentedly.  Not the way 
he wanted to go, but he could think of worse.  There was 
nothing to be done about the internal injuries and people 
only survived them without medical attention in the vids and 
old movies he'd seen.  The reality was more . . permanent.
He sighed, grateful for the drugs in his system that allowed 
him to take a deep breath without pain from the broken ribs 
he could hear grinding against each other.  Drowsiness was 
sneaking up on him, but he fought it down.  Harry's hand 
was in his and he had no idea how long it had been there. 
Tom reached out for Chakotay's and one of those dark, 
always-gentle hands caught his own.  He laced his fingers 
through both and brought them to his chest.  Closing his 
eyes for a moment, he felt Harry's fingers tighten sharply on 
his and he forced his eyes open, again.

"Don't you leave me, not yet," Harry whispered, wanting 
Tom to fight it, but knowing there was no way the man would 
still be alive when Voyager finally returned.

"Not my choice, Love.  Never my choice," Tom replied softly. 
"Not how I intended to go, but it'll do," he said lightly, smiling 
slightly, seeing Harry grin reluctantly through tears.

He met Chakotay's eyes, cringing inwardly at the guilt 
written there.  "Why the hell are you looking like that, Cha?" 
he asked, unaware he'd used his old nickname for his 
former lover.  "This is *not* your fault, you know."

"I've had a rotten feeling about this place from the moment I 
heard the first rumble," he began, but Tom refused to let him 
wallow.

"I know you're practically perfect, but psychic, too?  You've 
been holding out on me, Big Guy.  Look, you had no way of 
knowing, so just knock it the hell off," he murmured firmly, 
but gently.  He was glad he was laying down, the dizziness 
would have had him off his feet, anyway.  "Harry, if he starts 
the guilt thing again, you have my permission to whack him. 
You've got a hand free," he finished, closing his eyes to rest 
for just a second, squeezing both hands in his, sighing when 
it was returned.  Opening his eyes, he saw Harry still 
grinning shakily at his words.  Tom could feel the light and 
life slipping away, knew he didn't have much time left.  So 
many things to say.

"My grandfather, the one I actually liked," he clarified, 
looking from Harry to Chakotay, "always said that St. Peter
. . would stop those entering heaven, until they'd answered 
two questions.  Who did you love? And, who loved you?  I 
have loved, and been loved by, two *wonderful* men. You 
two . . just might be enough . . to get me through the gates," 
he finished, seeing fresh tears make tracks down Harry's 
beautiful face. He sighed as Harry's other hand came up to 
ruffle his hair.  He'd always loved it when Harry did that 
when they were in bed and it usually put him out like a light. 
He knew it was Harry's way of telling him it was all right to 
go.

Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat and leaned 
forward to kiss Tom.  He put everything he had into that 
kiss, hoping Tom could take it with him, before backing off, 
still running his fingers through the red-gold hair. 

"Damn you, Harry, trying to send me to heaven with the 
mother of all hard-ons," Tom groused playfully, tiredly, as 
Harry laughed, while crying.

"Cha, would you . . kiss me goodbye?" Tom asked, voice 
nearly gone, now.

Chakotay looked at Harry, as if for permission, and saw 
nothing in his eyes to indicate it wasn't okay.  He leaned 
forward, wrapping his other hand around the top of Tom's 
head, before gently bringing his mouth down to grant the 
man's request.  Same taste, once he got past Harry's, he 
thought.  Interesting, the two together.  Tears went down his 
face, unchecked.  All of Tom's vitals were dropping, 
according to the tricorder, but the man wasn't quite ready, 
yet.  The spirits knew Chakotay wasn't ready to let him go.

Tom sighed, remembering his time with Chakotay.  He 
struggled to open his eyes, and it took almost all of his 
remaining strength to place Chakotay's hand on top of 
Harry's, on his chest, as he met his former lover's eyes.

"Take care of him . . for me," Tom requested, in a pale 
version of his voice.  

"I *can* take care of myself, you know," Harry complained, 
softly, smiling through tears.

"Been doing it . . since day one . . someone has to  . . take 
over for me," Tom said, knowing he was losing the battle to 
remain a while longer.  He met Chakotay's eyes, wearily. 
"You . . wouldn't believe . . the *trouble* he gets into."

Chakotay chuckled in spite of himself.  Always humor, to the 
end.  "I'll keep an eye on Harry, I promise," he said, quietly, 
as Tom nodded, slightly, eyes closing, again.

"I love you, Tom," Harry said, in a voice as broken as his 
lover's body.

"Oh, Har . . love you, too.  Always.  Always . . Harry . ."  Tom 
felt himself slipping away, and tightened his fingers around 
the hands in his, before warmth and darkness rose up to 
meet him, gently coming around him, and he let himself sink 
into them, peacefully.

Chakotay ran the tricorder over Tom's body, just to confirm 
what the two of them already knew; he was gone.  

Harry had caught everything Tom had put into saying his 
name, that last time.  I love you.  Remember me. Good-bye. 
He dissolved in tears, lowering his head to Tom's chest, and 
sobbed quietly, finding he couldn't let go of Tom's hand, yet, 
didn't want to.  It was still warm, as if Tom was moments 
from opening his eyes and waking, again.

Chakotay hadn't thought anything could feel worse than he 
had the night he realized that he and Tom were over.  Gods, 
to be so wrong.  His hand still rested on top of Harry's on 
Tom's still chest.  He squeezed it, gently, putting his other 
hand on Harry's head, saying nothing, just offering the 
comfort of his presence.  He ached, not only for Harry's loss, 
but for his own, as well.

Harry knew Chakotay had to be hurting, but he was so lost 
within his own pain and grief that he couldn't bring himself to 
acknowledge that Chakotay had also lost someone very 
important to him. He could feel the Commander's hand on 
his head and was grateful for the comfort it gave him. 

Harry couldn't force himself away from Tom.  Looking at the 
face of the man he loved so much, he spent several 
moments committing it to memory, every plane, curve, and 
angle.  He ran shaking fingers through the dusty, golden 
hair, caressed a cheekbone, touched the mouth that would 
never say his name again, but didn't take his other hand out 
of Chakotay's.  Finally, he rested his cheek over the quiet 
heart and broke apart completely, sobs racking him. 

Chakotay moved an arm around Harry's shoulders, feeling 
the younger man shuddering under it.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he spoke quietly.  "I am so sorry."

Harry turned his head to look at him and was slightly 
relieved when he realized that Chakotay was regretting his 
loss, not apologizing for Tom's death.  He couldn't have let 
the man get away with the guilt, either.  His eyes met 
Chakotay's and he saw the mirror of his own pain within 
them.  The Commander had never stopped loving Tom; it 
was obvious, now.  Leaving his hand in Chakotay's, he put 
the other on the man's shoulder, pulling him forward, to wrap 
it around him. Never letting go of Tom, they held each other, 
granting themselves the luxury of grief, now, while they had 
the time.  And so they remained, until Voyager returned.

Chakotay spoke in a low voice to the Captain, informing her 
of what had happened.  Harry simply sat with Chakotay's 
arm around him and stared at his lover, remembering 
everything.  He never even felt the transporter lock onto him, 
beaming them all to sickbay, before the Doctor gently 
removed Tom's body from his grasp.  He turned into 
Chakotay, unable to stop crying, feeling quiet sobs shake 
the other man's body, too, even though he didn't make a 
sound.  He didn't know what to do.  Harry knew he had to 
make a report to the Captain, but it was totally beyond him, 
at the moment. Dimly he heard the Holodoc ask if he wanted 
something to help him sleep, but sleep was the last thing he 
wanted, knowing he'd wake up alone for the first time in 
months, without Tom's arms around him. He shook his 
head, numbly, and looked up at the Commander.

"Come on, Harry.  I'll take you back to your quarters," 
Chakotay said, gently.

"I don't want to leave him," Harry choked out, fresh tears 
finding new paths down his face.

"The Doctor will take care of everything," Chakotay said, 
looking to the Doc for confirmation.

"Of course I will, Ensign," the Holodoc agreed quietly, as 
Chakotay helped Harry to his feet, steadying him. Harry 
nodded reluctantly and, casting one last look back at Tom's 
body, peacefully resting on a biobed, allowed himself to be 
led out the door.

Word had spread like plasma fire through the ship, but the 
corridors were empty and silent as Harry and Chakotay 
made their way to the Ensign's quarters.  The younger man 
wasn't aware of anything except the Commander's arm 
around his shoulders, steering him through the door and into 
the room.  Harry went over to the couch and sank down on 
it, bringing up his knees before wrapping his arms around 
them.  He didn't want to think, feel, hell, he didn't even want 
to *be*, at the moment. 

Chakotay sat next to Harry, pausing only an instant, before 
pulling the Ensign into his arms, again.  They remained 
there for some time, in silence.

Eventually, Harry exhausted himself crying and, next thing 
he knew, he was waking up in bed, with no memory of how 
he'd gotten there.  Chakotay wasn't in evidence, as he 
slowly got up and looked around.  The Commander had left 
the shorts and tank top on him; the rest of his uniform was 
nowhere in sight.  He threw on some clothes and headed 
out of his quarters, going quickly to Tom's, unseen.  

It was still more or less a mess, just as they'd left it, earlier 
that day.  He grabbed one of the pillows that had been 
knocked to the floor, wrapped his arms around it and inhaled 
the scent of his lover that still lingered, before he shed his 
outer clothes and got into the bed, hugging the pillow to him. 
Quieter tears slid out of his eyes and sleep reclaimed him, 
as gently as it could.

He woke, yet again, feeling a hand brushing the hair out of 
his eyes. Chakotay.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Chakotay whispered, removing 
his hand, before Harry's shot out to take it.

"It's okay.  I just *couldn't* sleep in my own bed, not without 
him," Harry whispered back, feeling almost out of tears, at 
least for now.

"Does it help?" Chakotay asked quietly, his voice quavering, 
wondering if anything could help him, right now.

Harry nodded.  "Yeah, it does.  Just being here makes it a 
little easier," he said quietly.

"Then, can I join you?" Chakotay asked hesitantly, sighing 
as Harry nodded again, moving backward, before he flipped 
the sheets open for him.  Chakotay tossed off most of his 
clothes, letting them drop into the pile of Harry's, still on the 
floor, and got into the bed, pulling the sheets up over the 
both of them.  He faced away from Harry, not wanting the 
other man to see the tears streaming down his face.

Harry scooted closer, letting Chakotay settle on his side, 
then moved behind him, not quite touching him, one hand 
resting lightly on the Commander's arm.  "You okay?" he 
asked, feeling the man shudder.

"No," Chakotay answered, honestly.  "But, I will be, Harry. 
We both will be."

"From your lips to the gods' ears," Harry sighed with sad 
exhaustion, as he relaxed into sleep, again, taking Chakotay 
with him. 

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