DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters and the ship . . . they always have and they always will. But I own the story, even if I'm not making any money from it.
A coda to "Homestead." Neelix left - can life go back to normal?
For Espalia, who wanted closure.
Home Again
by Harley
B'Elanna Torres stared at the messhall replicator and furrowed her brow. She opened her mouth to order, but could not quite force the words from her lips.
It would be unjustified use of the replicator, a crime on this ship still swimming against the current towards a distant planet no one considered home. She opened her mouth again, still trying to speak, trying to justify her action with thoughts of the times Tom had ordered champagne for evening celebrations that extended through to morning or when Janeway would use up her rations on coffee and slink into the messhall to steal a cup before her early shift.
The words wouldn't come. She wanted to order - damn these midnight cravings, damn Tom's splurging their combined credits on dinner - but she could not for all her trying form the sentence she wanted to speak.
She continued to stare in consternation at the replicator. Tuvok would understand her lapse of protocol - he had children, had a wife who had probably woken in the middle night wanting strange, non-Vulcan edibles. She wouldn't be punished.
Still . . .
She glanced quickly around the messhall, waiting for someone to come in and smile in that condescending way she hated and tell her that they would cover the cost this time. She looked for Neelix to enter, tutting at her for being up this late but appreciating the company nonetheless.
He didn't arrive.
B'Elanna turned away from the replicator, putting her back to the offending piece of machinery. Her gaze encompassed the entire messhall now; she could see the galley, the couches and the tables with the chairs up for the evening. The light from the stars filtered in through the windows and shadows danced across the deck. B'Elanna took it all in and wondered why it felt so melancholy.
These stars had been her home for seven years, and never before had they seemed so haunting. They mocked her, telling her what she had told herself for years: this is no way to live. Alone, away, afraid. Was there something beyond space? They begged an answer, and she could not respond.
Never before had the stars seemed so hostile.
She turned away from the windows and confronted the galley.
It, too, was empty.
For years now, she had leaned over the galley counter and conned snacks out of the Talaxian who seemed to get pleasure out of everything he did - even giving overworked chief engineers leftover dessert and telling them to get on home to sleep. Somehow, he enjoyed that.
She had thought he would enjoy seeing her daughter's sleeping face the way he had watched over Naomi's, she expected he would enjoy giving her a few more winks and nudges as her family expanded.
She knew he enjoyed giving her advice over a bowl of illicit ice cream, telling her to trust herself a little more as he ordered the replicator to expend the ship's resources and give her something sweet.
B'Elanna turned back to the replicator. It hung silent on the wall, a piece of technology rather than a conversation piece. She rested her hand on her swollen belly and stared at the replicator's silence, wondering exactly when she would be able to summon the courage to order anything at all.
It could, she mused, be a while.
Oddly, she didn't want to return to her quarters to sleep her hunger away. She didn't want to wake Tom, either, for God knew how hard he was working on the bridge, in sickbay, at home. And if she did drag him out of bed, he would paste an understanding smile on his face and insist they come down to the messhall and get her whatever she wanted.
It was sweet when he did that, but it wasn't how she wanted to spend the early hours of the morning.
She wanted to get something for herself.
B'Elanna wandered away from the replicator, again turning her back on the offensive machine. She sank into one of the messhall's well-worn couches, curling up as best she could and leaning her head on her hand.
She watched the menacing stars streak by as the ship passed countless deserted solar systems on its way toward Janeway's Valhalla. It would come to an end some day, they would pull into port and cry, some in happiness, some in sadness, most with the knowledge that the most important chapter of their lives had come to a close.
She closed her eyes and remembered something Tom had culled from his years of research of the twentieth century. "You can never go home again," he'd quoted proudly before realizing the impact and honesty of his statement. She'd countered by asking if he really wanted to return to the life he'd left behind. He hadn't answered, not really.
But there were some on this ship for whom Earth was Eden, the idyllic place they longed for; there were some who could never truly go home, for their homes were far behind, forgotten. They looked for a piece of home and history wherever they went.
They found it sometimes.
B'Elanna felt herself slipping, and knew she could fall asleep here - and have Tom find her in the morning, demanding and deserving an explanation for her midnight disappearance.
She heard the door to the messhall slide open and for a moment she thought it was her husband, come to coerce her back to bed. She would go willingly, she was sure. But the footsteps were not of the familiar long gait, but dragging, short steps. B'Elanna opened her eyes and smiled.
Naomi Wildman stepped into the messhall. Her feet were bare below her red pyjamas, and her hands clutched at the doll Neelix and Harry had replicated for her. She looked young.
She was young, B'Elanna remembered.
Naomi followed the path B'Elanna had taken, crossing the room and stopping at the replicator. She, too, stared at it for a second before sighing in defeat. Naomi turned on her heels, performing an about-face that would have made Janeway proud. She started to walk towards the very couch B'Elanna was slouched on, and stopped shortly. "Lieutenant Torres!"
B'Elanna turned towards the girl.
"I didn't realize you were here," Naomi continued.
Shrugging her shoulders B'Elanna said, "I wanted something to eat."
Naomi's brow wrinkled. "But you're not eating."
B'Elanna sat up and shrugged again. "No," she said.
"Why?" Naomi hugged her doll to her chest, looking suspiciously at the chief engineer, trying to determine why someone else was up at this hour. Especially someone like B'Elanna.
"I think I had the same problem you did," B'Elanna said. "The replicator."
Naomi sighed and took a step towards B'Elanna. "It doesn't seem right."
B'Elanna shook her head. "No, it doesn't."
Feet shuffled, and Naomi continued to advance towards the couch. B'Elanna tried to sit up straighter and failed. She remained slouched, head still in her hand. Naomi inched towards her, and B'Elanna didn't move.
Naomi finally sat gingerly on the couch next to B'Elanna, pulling Flotter to her and resting her chin on the blue, fluffy head. "Does your mother know you're here?" B'Elanna asked, finally realizing that it was indeed past midnight, past time for Naomi to be asleep. Past time for her to be asleep.
Naomi shook her head and her hair swung about. "No. She's been doing diagnostics in stellar cartography all day and was tired. She didn't notice me leave." Naomi frowned. "She's usually tired."
B'Elanna looked then at the five year old girl - she was thirteen in all but actual number, B'Elanna corrected herself. "We do a lot to keep this ship running."
Naomi turned her head so her cheek rested on Flotter's blue mane. "I know." She looked past B'Elanna at the empty galley, saw the untouched fruit, resting like artifacts in their metal bowls. "Sometimes I wonder why we bother." Her eyes wandered past the fruit to the cabinet where Neelix kept the cookies, and she thought of times when she was little and stuffing her face until her mother showed up and said they weren't good for her. But Neelix always put them away for the next time.
B'Elanna looked back up at the stars. "We're going home," she said, staring at the light reflecting off the tables and forming patterns like jewels. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger.
"No, we're not," Naomi contradicted, watching B'Elanna twirl the gold band.
"The captain seems to think we are," B'Elanna said, thinking of the days when Naomi wanted nothing more than to be captain's assistant and experience for herself the workings of a starship.
Naomi buried her face in her doll, and her words were muffled. B'Elanna reached out a hand to Naomi's shoulder. "I didn't hear you."
Still muffled, but more audible, Naomi's voice seemed to personify Flotter, who said, "She's wrong."
B'Elanna looked down at the girl who had known life only on ship, who had never seen the planet her captain and her mother worked so hard towards. A child raised by a village, a child who never knew her father. B'Elanna stared at Naomi as the girl's spikes dug into the cloth of her toy. "You think so?"
Flotter's head bobbed as Naomi nodded.
"How come?" B'Elanna's hand remained on Naomi's shoulder. She knew the answer. Naomi could not possibly consider Earth home. To her, it had to be a mythic place, interesting in theory, terrifying in practice.
Naomi shrugged. "Neelix isn't going to Earth," she said softly and B'Elanna could barely hear her.
Ah. "No," B'Elanna said, looking again towards the replicator and then towards the galley. "He found somewhere he wanted to stay."
"Why?"
B'Elanna shifted in her seat so she could look more directly at her unexpected conversation partner and still keep her aching back comfortable. "I think he found something he'd always needed."
Naomi lifted her head. "What?" she asked.
"A family," B'Elanna responded, settling her hand back over her belly. Her daughter kicked and B'Elanna flinched.
Naomi frowned, and B'Elanna remembered that Neelix had felt Naomi didn't need him any longer. He wasn't useful for bedtime stories because she had grown out of them, grown up. She looked at the girl, and knew Neelix had been wrong. Naomi didn't need a babysitter; she needed a father and a friend.
"I was his family," she said softly.
B'Elanna considered, wondering at the parallels she found between her life and that of the girl beside her. "I think," she began, "that Neelix will always consider you family."
"But he left."
B'Elanna nodded, and for a fleeting second envisioned her future self on this very couch, conducting a conversation with another girl with an exotic forehead. She smiled to herself and hoped Naomi didn't notice. "I know." B'Elanna took a deep breath. "And you still have your mother."
"She's busy."
"Always?"
"Almost. There are diagnostics and drills and reports." Naomi would have been shocked to know she was pouting.
"What about Seven and Icheb? Don't you consider them family?" B'Elanna prodded lightly, not wanting to think of the time she put into diagnostics and drills and reports - more than Samantha Wildman, for certain.
"Yeah. Mostly Seven." Naomi paused, thinking of the times she and Seven had played Kadis-Kot. She compared them to the times she and Neelix had done the same. She wasn't sure it was a fair trade. She was keeping a friend, but losing a father.
B'Elanna thought she understood.
"But what if he forgets about me?," Naomi finally murmured. Her unasked questions hung in the air. What if he loves his new son more? What if we can't stay in touch? What am I going to do when I want a cookie at 0300 hours?
"He won't."
Naomi craned her neck to look up at B'Elanna. "How do you know?"
B'Elanna chewed on her lower lip, unsure how to answer the question. Naomi couldn't understand that simply being a parent left a lasting impression on one's mind - though B'Elanna wondered at that insight and when she had become a parent rather than merely expecting. "Because," she finally said, "you've been a part of his life for almost six years. I think he'd be hard pressed to forget six years." B'Elanna smiled, trying to reassure.
"You think?" Naomi sat up at the thought - she was unforgettable.
"I know."
And B'Elanna wondered exactly how she had fallen into this conversation, for it certainly seemed out of character for her to be offering advice - especially to a girl who claimed to be completely independent.
After a moment, Naomi looked back at B'Elanna. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
Naomi sat back against the couch, looking at the stars. "You have a family here."
"Yes."
"You really want to go to Earth?" Naomi almost spat the word, as if it were a horrible thing.
B'Elanna considered. "I think that home is wherever your family is, but I think I want to find somewhere I can comfortably raise a family," she said, echoing her earlier words. "And I think that Earth is a wonderful place to do that."
"But if we stopped somewhere else, you'd like that?" Naomi asked.
"No," B'Elanna said, surprised at her own words. "Earth."
"Why?"
B'Elanna took a deep breath. "Because we've been working so hard to get there, I think it would be a complete waste of our time if we didn't." And it was true, almost. She wanted to return to Earth, in a way. She wanted to meet her father, meet Tom's father. She wanted her daughter to see in person what the crew had only dreamed about for so long. She wasn't deluding herself - she didn't hold Earth in the same regard as Janeway or Harry, but it was a nice place - not quite home, but a nice place. And a nice place to raise a family.
Tom would laugh if he could hear her thoughts.
Naomi got up from her place at B'Elanna's side. "Neelix has been working hard to get to Earth, too," she pointed out, insightful yet indignant. She marched towards the window and watched the stars fly by.
"I know," B'Elanna said. And Naomi wouldn't understand why Neelix chose to leave, wouldn't understand until she was much older, with a chance to be someone's parent and someone's wife. A chance to have a life that wasn't dependent on next week's away mission or next month's rations.
B'Elanna herself had taken a long time to realize there was more to life than warp core diagnostics. It came with age, with experience, and with a lot of completely inexplicable things that she knew in her heart but not in her head.
Naomi wouldn't understand, because for all her ability, she was a still child. B'Elanna continued, "I can't explain it." She took a breath. "He did what he thought was best for him."
"Do you think it's best for him, Lieutenant?" Naomi asked, looking straight at B'Elanna.
B'Elanna had to smile as she felt her daughter kick again - hungry, probably. "I think that we should all do what we want," she said. "And that what we want to do is what's best for us."
Naomi's thoughts flitted across her face. B'Elanna could see as the girl considered her own independence, her mother, her home - Voyager. Finally, Naomi squared her shoulders. "I want an ice cream sundae."
Food. That was the whole purpose of this late-night messhall visit, B'Elanna recalled. She had been unable to order her snack from the replicator - because the messhall was so very lonely. Now . . . the stars no longer embodied demons set to terrorize anything that so much as glanced at them. Now, they were beacons, guiding her to wherever they were going - Earth, Eden, home - in a way. A place that, even if she could not, her daughter would call home.
"So do I."
*END*