Energy

Energy crackled off of him like tiny lightning bolts, crawling across the deck where he crouched, half mad and very, very angry.

Apparently the scientists had given him a little too much of the treatment. Every one of his cells had been infused with the super-strong metal alloy, and Harry's fingernails glittered silver where they dug furrows in the metal deck plating. Once liquid brown eyes were now sightless; a matching color.

Harry jerked as Tom moved reflexively toward him, a soft schwinging noise indicating that the ebony hair, now grown fantastically long, was also metallic in nature. He scrabbled backward, still crouched, and a visible wave of energy rolled across the deck, slamming into the rescue party with incredible force.

Tom's last thought before blessed unconsciousness dulled the pain was that he should have identified himself as soon as he'd realized his friend was blind.

Harry sent a tendril of energy to explore his surroundings, struggling to interpret the information from this new sense.

Metal scent; organic? Familiar...

A memory slowly surfaced in the emotional quicksand that had become his mind.

Blood.

He examined shape and size, letting the energy sear closed the open wounds that allowed the life energy to leak from those he had injured.

The energy softened, sliding across the floor and through tiny spaces like water, cocooning one injured man and pulling him across the floor to Harry's side.

He slowly ran clumsy hands over the face and body, careful not to cause more injury with his nails.

The scent was familiar; his hands remembered the body, but his mind was lost.

Who?

Harry wrapped his arms around his prize and concentrated, energy flowing around them both until it solidified, lifting them up and carrying them through the narrow passageway. He sent out others, little sparks to confuse the station's watching computers as he floated closer to his hidden place. He shouldn't risk the energy signature he left when he traveled this way, but the other was heavy and cumbersome.

He navigated the now-familiar twists and turns without thinking, slowing at last before a tight upward spiralling corridor that was difficult, even without a burden. He slowly unravelled the energy wall, sealing it up around his burden and directing it ahead. He climbed up himself when he was sure it was safe, no-one had seen him, no-one could find him. He was safe. The computers knew everything, and the computers obeyed him.

Harry emerged in a small, circular chamber created by the intersection of 7 or 8 maintenance crawlways. It wasn't big enough for him to stand in, but he could sit up, so he'd piled together blankets, pillows, clothing; anything soft that he could pilfer. The result was a comforting, warm nest.

Harry settled his burden in the center, rearranging the long limbs until he thought comfort would be achieved. Some distant memory prompted him to snuggle up next to the man, and he fell asleep, energy crackling around him, waiting.

Tom woke slowly, opening sleep encrusted eyes to a colorless grey ceiling about 3 feet away. He itched all over, his left arm was asleep, and there was the horrible sensation of tight, sore skin across his abdomen, as though he'd been burned.

He tried to rise, and was hit with multiple electric shocks as soon as he tried to unravel the blankets he was tangled in, his hair rose to stand on end, and he lay back, startled. Tom turned his head, ignoring the crackling of static electricity and noted that his arm was asleep because Harry was lying on it, little sparks flying off of him to ground themselves in the surrounding cloth.

Harry protested sleepily, snuggling closer, and Tom was overcome by a wave of intense relief. Harry was still himself enough to recognize Tom. Unless he responded this way to everybody, which seemed unlikely given his initial reaction to the rescue party.

The rescue party! Tom wondered what had happened to them, and hoped he hadn't been the only one to survive.

"Harry," he said softly.

His lover's eyes snapped open, staring sightlessly into space as invisible energy currents swirled around the room, picking up objects and examining everything before settling into a snapping, boiling cloud of visible energy, hovering just above Tom.

"Can't remember..." Harry whispered unhappily.

"It's all right, Harry," Tom replied, softly. Even talking sent sparks along his jaw, and he twitched in response.

"Hurt," Harry said, still whispering. He held one finger towards Tom's face, just close enough to brush at the soft, fine hairs that stood on end. Tom gasped as energy flowed away from him.

He sent off sparks for a moment until Harry grasped a small ball of angry yellow light. He sat up and held it to the cushions, and it grew as it absorbed more energy until it was roughly the size of Tom's head.

Harry lifted it to his mouth and blew softly, smiling as it floated down one of the maintenance tubes.

"Better?" he asked shyly. His hair made soft metallic rustling noises as he moved, and Tom reached out cautiously to touch it, fascinated. It was soft and flexible, but he could feel each individual strand as it slid across his palm.

Tom sat up and rubbed his head, still expecting to be shocked. His hair hurt from standing up for so long. Or maybe his head hurt. "Yes," he replied, reaching out when Harry flinched. "I'm sorry," he whispered anxiously. "Did I hurt you?"

Harry shook his head. "Loud," he muttered. "Can't remember," He added, urgently plucking at Tom's sleeve.

Harry frowned, distracted. He rubbed a hand against the rough material, then pulled it away, stroking one of the soft pillows as though he were trying to erase the sensation. He started tugging the tunic off, making an unhappy noise as the material rubbed against his skin. He pulled away, sulking.

Tom pulled the uniform shirt off, leaving only his softer turtleneck in it's place. For good measure, he removed the pants as well, tossing both to the far corners of the tiny area. He shivered, realizing how cold it was without his clothes.

Harry pounced on him, wrapping him with blankets and snuggling in close again. Tom laughed, trying hard not to vocalize it. He wondered how Harry knew what he was doing.

A spark rolled across his sore stomach, and he winced. Harry frowned, gathering up the errant energy and sending a much smaller ball of light after the first. He slowly reached up and ran his fingers through Tom's hair, breathing in his scent and concentrating on the feel of soft skin.

"Remember..." he whispered, forehead wrinkling in concentration.

Tom leaned forward, kissing him softly, and Harry swayed closer, silver eyes closing.

He jerked back, silver eyes wide. "Tom!" He said sharply, wincing at his own voice.

"You remember now?" Tom asked.

"I remember you," Harry replied. "I love you," he added seductively, voice barely audible as he leaned closer to Tom.

Tom strangled his almost overwhelming joy and asked breathlessly, "Anything else?"

Harry's forehead wrinkled again; a sign of concentration. "Anything else," he muttered "I remember... no! Hurts, hurts, hurts, can't, no..."

He started crying, and Tom wrapped his arms around his lover.

"It's okay, Harry," he whispered, "you don't have to. It's all right. I love you. I will always love you."

Harry hiccuped, burying his face in Tom's neck.

"I love you," Tom repeated, holding his lover close, and rocking him gently back and forth.

Tom rubbed a hand over Harry's belly, waking him. "Harry?"

"Mmm?" Harry replied sleepily.

"Harry, do you remember the people I came with?" Tom asked carefully.

"Hurts," Harry replied sulkily, still partly asleep.

"I know, baby, but I need to know what happened to them. Harry, wake up," he added more firmly. Harry's child like behavior was beginning to worry him more than a little.

Harry snapped fully awake suddenly, and Tom was treated to a replay of his earlier awakening, complete to the glowing cloud of energy hovering over him. "Fixed," he said quietly, sitting up as the cloud dissipated.

Tom had the unnerving feeling that it was a defense mechanism Harry had stopped just short of deploying.

"I don't understand," he said, confused.

~~~~~~~

Harry reached over and pulled Tom's shirt up to expose the shiny, blistered skin on his stomach.

"Fixed them," Harry repeated, staring anxiously at Tom.

"You did this?" Tom asked.

"Hurt," Harry repeated. He twitched, looking over Tom's shoulder.

Tom followed his gaze reflexively, seeing nothing. "What is it?" he demanded.

Harry shook his head. "Bad," He said softly. He shook his head harder, as if ridding himself of a restraint. "They're looking for me," he added carefully. He grinned ruefully at Tom's suddenly intent look. "I can talk. Only it takes so much effort to be coherent. So many other things to concentrate on. I can't see properly when I'm thinking."

"How do you see? I thought you were blind, when I first saw you," Tom said softly, reaching out to touch Harry's face.

"I am," he replied soberly. "My eyes don't work. But computers use energy to send information, and I can see energy, now. In my head, anyway. So I look through the camera's eyes, and I see the room outside myself." Harry reached out, almost touching Tom's face. "I know where you are because I can see myself about to touch you." His hand dropped, and he sighed. "But if... if I have to talk to people, if I have to think too hard, I don't have enough focus left to do it, so I really am blind."

"How do you survive, then?" Tom asked intently.

Harry shrugged. "I don't think. I just react.

Usually I know what's going on all over the station. They haven't found me yet because the computers don't know anything I don't want them to know."

"You can control them without being in contact with them?"

"No. I have to find a terminal. But I know what they're doing a few minutes before anyone else does, which usually gives me enough time to circumvent anything that might jeopardize me. We have to move. I think they've found this hidey." He scrambled up, crouching motionless while Tom followed his example.

Harry turned slightly and picked a passageway, sliding through it on his back. They crawled for a good twenty minutes, stopping every once in a while to let Harry "look around". They finally emerged into a space similar to the other, although this one was even smaller; the two of them were a tight fit.

"Harry," Tom began as soon as Harry looked settled at his side, "Do you know where the rest of the landing party is?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "They're in the same area I was quartered in when I first came to assist these... people... in their repairs. They killed Doherman and Yard, you know. Didn't survive the initial treatments."

"Samsung? Is he dead, too?" Tom requested.

"Oh, god, I hope so," Harry replied fervently, not bothering to clarify. Tom wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Maybe someone should have been more specific when they offered crew and materials," Harry added thoughtfully. "The Parinians seem to have taken that rather literally.

In fact, they seem to think we ARE materials." Harry giggled suddenly, funnybone tickled by whatever image he had conjured up. "I can't get into that area without being caught. I'm not willing to do that." He added, rolling away from Tom.

"Just tell me what I need to know, Harry," Tom replied softly. "If I can get in to see them, they'll have us al beamed out. Surely you can't be that difficult to locate," he added, amused. "You must have an energy signature as strong as Voyager."

Harry grinned. "Maybe. Only.."

"Only what?"

"Where do I sent the extra energy? We've already established that you aren't quite as accustomed to it as I am, I have to get rid of it somehow. On Voyager, there's nothing I can blow up without having to worry about who's there."

"You blow things up with it?" Tom demanded incredulously.

"Yeah," Harry grinned. Static electricity can be pretty powerful if you have enough of it directed at one target."

"We'll worry about that later," Tom said finally. "Just get me to my team, Harry."

"I can do that," Harry said quietly. Tom was worried about the slight tremor in his voice. He needed to get Harry out of here. Anything else could be resolved on Voyager, where they were surrounded by their surrogate family and Harry was as safe as he could be.

~~~~~~

The Doctor looked up as captain Janeway and her first officer entered his office.

"And how is our patient, Doctor?" she asked.

"Ensign Kim is..." he paused, at a loss for words. "Is as good as he's ever likely to get. There are a few things I couldn't repair, and, although they shouldn't impair him in the performance of his duty, they are going to make a noticeable difference in his every day life. Not to mention his appearance. For example," he continued, overriding her questions, "I've managed to reduce the hyper-sensitivity of his skin, but not eradicate it completely. The residual effects of all that electricity is not something I can completely heal.

"His retinal cells were too delicate to survive the infusion of metals that the rest of his cells went through. They're irreparably damaged. I could put in prosthetics, but the metal alloy infuses every new cell his body creates. I attempted to inject some of Seven's nanoprobes to help fight off what might be considered an infection, and now he has metal-alloy infected nanoprobes. I doubt that he'll become ill very often. I don't think something as delicate as an optic sensor would function long under those circumstances. As it stands now, he uses artificial scanning devices to "see" his environment. Quite effectively, at that."

"But none of this will affect his performance?" Janeway clarified.

"Well, yes. Of course it will. I just don''t think the affects will be detrimental. If the ship loses power, he wont be able to see his monitors, but then, they won't be functioning because the power is out.

"Any other problems?" Chakotay asked.

"Aside from the initial problems I encountered, and continue to encounter when I attempt to examine him?" the Doctor replied irascibly. "Several. He is not going to enjoy wearing a uniform. As I believe I mentioned, his skin is rather more sensitive than the norm, and he'll need special cloth to counteract that. I also attempted to cut his hair, to no avail. It might be accomplished with a welding torch, but that would more than likely damage the rest of Ensign Kim.

"The silver tint to his fingernails and his eyes may fade as time passes, although that seems unlikely. I did managed to reduce the "echo effect" that loud noises induced, with a rather brilliant operation on my part. He's also sterile. His body still functions according to nature, but any DNA is killed before it has time to...ah... complete it's journey."

"Is that the complete list?" asked Janeway quietly.

"As things stand right now, yes. I mentioned that it is difficult to examine him in person, but I believe ensign Paris' diagnoses were accurate. To the best of his ability, at any rate."

"What about the energy discharges he was prone to?" Chakotay asked, frowning.

"Those seem to be more a result of the environment on that space station than anything normally occurring to Ensign Kim. He does give off a high amount of electrical energy, high enough to disrupt my program, at any rate, but he seems to be able to contain it with a minimum of fuss. I'm sure he can confine the lightning shows to his planetary excursions."

"So he can still function in his capacity as OPS officer?"

"Yes. Quite effectively, if I'm any judge," replied the Doctor. "I sent him back to his quarters. He's still not fit for duty, but when he is, he should perform to his usual high standards.

"Good," Janeway smiled. "Do you think he'd mind a few visitors?"

"Probably not," was the response, "He's been asking about everyone lately. I'd ask the computer to verify his location, if I were you, since he's rarely in his own quarters these days."

"We'll do that," Chakotay responded, grinning.

"Thank you, Doctor," Janeway added as they turned to leave.

"Remind ensigns Kim and Paris that one of them is supposed to be recovering," The Doctor suggested as the doors swished shut behind them.

~~~~~~~~~

Harry watched Tom's progress through the station's computers, unable to escape the image of his lover walking into danger, and yet too frightened to aid him."

He did nothing, terrified to the point that he couldn't move, couldn't speak; could only watch as Tom narrowly avoided detection over and over again. He should have led Tom to a point closer to the target, should have helped him, gone with him, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

He watched as Tom's pursuers got closer and closer, heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst. His head hurt, he was concentrating too much, and he was getting dizzy. The room was spinning and he couldn't see Tom any more, but he could hear him shouting, louder and louder...

"Harry!" Tom shouted again, finally waking his lover.

Harry bolted upright, silver eyes wide, sweat drenched and trembling all over. "Tom?" he asked unhappily.

"I'm right here, Harry. It's ok. It's over. Nothing is going to hurt you," Tom replied soothingly.

"I didn't help you," Harry whispered brokenly.

"It's all right. You did as much as you could; that's enough. You don't ever have to go back there." Tom gently tugged Harry back down onto the bed, arms wrapped around his shivering form. "It's okay. I love you. Sleep, Harry. I'm not going anywhere."

Harry stopped shaking as warmth crept back into his body. He just lay there absorbing Tom's comforting presence for a long time before slowly drifting off to sleep again.

If he could just have one night without bad dreams...

Harry meandered around Tom's quarters, looking for something he could wear. He had plenty of clothing here, but he'd lost so much weight in the last few weeks that none of the trousers fit. He couldn't very well run around naked the way he had been for a few days. The Captain was on her way. Somehow, he didn't think she'd appreciate it as much as Tom seemed to.

Tom had some clothing stashed in the back of his closet, from when he'd first boarded Voyager. He'd been much thinner, then. There were no cameras in the closet, so Harry settled himself cross legged in front of it, rooting through the junk by touch. A few objects he recognized by feel, most he didn't. Some were interesting enough that he rolled them out into the middle of the room where he could look at them later. Eventually he came to a box full of clothing, and dragged it out into the center of the room as well.

Muttering about his lover's taste in clothing, he finally pulled out a pair of shorts that he thought would fit and slithered into them.

He was sitting on the floor, barefoot and bare chested, examining the few objects from Tom's closet that had interested him when the door chimed at him.

He was late. Oh, well. "Come," he called, casting around for a shirt and puling it on over his head.

"Harry?" Janeway called cheerfully as she entered the room. Harry directed the camera at her voice, tracking her progress into the room.

"I'm in the sleeping area," He replied. "Could we visit in here? It's easier for me to see both of us."

"Certainly. I'd have thought the living area would have been easier. It has the surveillance camera in it, after all," the captain replied, peeking around the privacy divider.

"Tom's installed three cameras in here..." Harry replied noncommitally. He didn't know what he was going to say if she asked him why Tom had installed them in the bedroom rather than the living area. He was pretty sure it hadn't been an entirely altruistic move on Tom's part.

Janeway paused, then apparently decided not to comment. "How are you feeling?"

"Fairly well. I still have little spells of weakness, but the doc says that's because I keep forgetting to eat. Low blood sugar, you know?"

"That's understandable. You have a lot on your mind these days. Harry..." Janeway began.

"Don't do that, Captain," Harry sighed.

"Do what?" she asked, startled.

"Don't... hesitate like that. If you're gonna say something, come right out and say it. I don't see facial expressions that well, it's hard to focus the camera that closely on any one face, and beating around the bush just makes it harder for me to understand what's going on." Harry seriously considered just asking her what she wanted, but thought that might be pushing his luck.

"All right. I need to know what happened to you down there."

Harry bit his lip and tried to focus the camera on her face, despite what he'd just said to her. These were meant for surveying an entire room, they didn't have much in the way of a zoom option. He really needed to get a better model installed. Particularly on the bridge and in his quarters. Maybe in the holodeck. Although Tom was being really good about letting Harry hang on his arm and be led around. That probably wasn't motivated by purity, either.

He gave up on the camera after a moment, and just shut them all off completely. It was easier to talk without seeing anyway. He could do both, now, because he didn't have to concentrate on every camera on the damned ship all at the same time, but it still gave him a headache.

Harry took a deep breath, and began talking.

"The Parinian race is suffering from an illness which renders individual cells incapable of reproducing themselves. To combat this, they developed a form of living metal that reproduces in the same way that cells do. The idea was to inject their entire race with this metal alloy, which would take over the damaged cells. When it reproduced itself, the damaged cell structure would also be reproduced, creating new cells. Most Parinians aren't strong enough to withstand the treatments, so they went looking for stronger races to experiment on. When we offered to help them repair their so-called system wide malfunction, we seemed like the perfect specimens. We had strength, adaptability, and there were several different races to choose from. The side effects when Humans were introduced to the treatments were rather unexpected and they couldn't contain the end result. The four of us escaped." Harry stopped, memories surfacing. Horrible headaches, cramping everywhere, feeling as though something were eating him from the inside out. And Voices, ones he couldn't escape hammering away at his sanity.

"You said the other crew members were killed by the initial treatments," Janeway's voice filtered through to his consciousness, and he shook himself.

"They were," He replied. "I mean, the treatment didn't kill them, but the side effects did. They couldn't stand the voices, and they went insane."

"Voices?" she asked gently.

"Electronic voices," he said, "Computers talking, heat signatures, anything that puts out energy leaves a trail that I can follow. There are so many things that make noises you can't see, and being bombarded by all of them at once is... disorienting."

"You "see" the noises?"

"See/feel/hear/taste.... it's a whole new sense, I don't know how to compare it to the others," He replied, frustrated. "How do you explain music to a deaf person?"

"Why didn't it drive you insane?"

"I don't know. I got the most experimental version of the treatment, maybe that's why. Maybe it's because I was the last one injected, and after the others went mad, they blew up a hefty portion of the noise generators. Maybe it's because I'm more attuned to languages. It didn't take me long to sort out the difference between computer language, image language, heat language. There are hundreds of them. Being around Seven of Nine drives me half insane. Every single one of those damned nanoprobes has its own tiny little voice with its own tiny little language. It's a wonder she functions at all!"

Janeway laughed, and he grinned back at her. Or at least, in her general direction.

"You're not looking at me right now, are you," she said; more of a statement than a question.

"No. It seemed silly to stare at the top of your head, and these cameras weren't really made for close ups. I need to talk to Tuvok about installing some better ones around the bridge before I go back on active duty. Besides, I don't think he'd take too kindly to me monopolizing all the security cameras."

"How did the others die?" she asked, bringing them abruptly back to the subject.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "Blew themselves up. Or bled to death, trying to tear the voices out of their heads," he finished in a whisper. Please don't ask me who, I can't say the names. If I don't say the names I won't have to see it again in my dreams tonight.

"If you concentrate hard enough, you can make out individual voices in the noise. If you don't concentrate at all, the voices just become "white noise". But if you try and hear all the voices at once, and you try and pay attention to the outside world at the same time.... you just... overload. Too much stimulus; your senses cant handle it so your rational mind shuts down and instinct takes over. An injured animal will gnaw off its own leg to escape from a trap, even though it's doomed as soon as it does."

Harry's voice was shaking, and he was starting to sweat. "Can we be finished? Please?" he whispered.

"Of course," Janeway replied. "I forget sometimes how much you've been through. You seem so poised all the time," she added regretfully.

"M-most of the time," Harry gasped, shaking violently. Images flashed through his mind; faces caked with blood, scars where they'd clawed their eyes out and torn at themselves with hands they didn't know how to control. Screams and the stench of unwashed bodies.

He curled into a fetal position, dimly hearing Janeway's voice, but not caring what she was saying enough to listen. His skin tingled, and then everything went black.

Harry woke slowly. "Wha--?" He muttered groggily.

"You're in sickbay, love. You flipped out on the captain and she had you beamed in," Tom said softly.

"Mmmf. 'Member tha'..." Harry trailed off again, too exhausted to speak. What the hell was wrong with him? He'd had more energy than this right after Akritiria.

"There's something wrong, doc," Tom said distantly. "He's not really waking up, just sort of fading in and out."

"He seems to be missing something in his blood chemistry," the doctor replied, "This chemical was there in abundant quantities when we first beamed him aboard, but it's almost all gone, now. Perhaps it's some kind of nutrient."

"He'll have to be supplied with doses from here, then. Whatever it is, he's not going to get it in any of the food Neelix serves," Tom replied.

Harry faded out again, tumbling slowly down a soft, warm tunnel into blackness.

"Harry?" Tom asked quietly. Sickbay was dark, or as dark as it ever got, and Tom was pressed up against his side, stretched out on the bed beside him.

"Don't think you're supposed to be up here," Harry said sleepily, stretching himself as completely as possible. "What happened?"

"You flipped out o--" Tom began.

"I remember that," Harry interrupted. "Something about nutrients...?"

"You're missing a chemical that the metal part of your cells needs to keep going. Food, as it were. It's not something that occurs in nature, not that we've ever discovered, anyway, so you'll have to take it in pill form, once a day."

"Mmm," he replied, not really caring. Tom felt so good next to him, and he wiggled a little closer, revelling in his warmth.

"Harry," Tom chided, "And in public, too!"

" 'S go someplace else, then," Harry suggested, nuzzling him.

"You're not allowed to leave, yet," Tom replied with regret.

Harry made a frustrated noise. "You'd better have something really nice planned for me when i get out of here," he complained.

"Oh, i do, lover," Tom breathed into his ear. "I most certainly do."

"Oh, good,' Harry replied. He wrapped his arms around Tom and snuggled in close, falling asleep in just a few moments.

Tom reflected that he really wasn't "allowed up here", and that the doc was going to want a few words with him about sleeping with the patients in the morning.

The next evening, Harry sat on the bed, recording his log for the day. Required reading for most of the command crew these days. Well, all right, that was an exaggeration. Just the captain, first officer, security chief and the doc. And Tom, because Tom read his daily logs all the time anyway. Ok, it wasn't an exaggeration. Maybe he should let B'Elanna read them so she didn't feel left out.

"...The meditation sessions with Tuvok and Chakotay help me get through the therapy session with the Doctor. Most of the time.

I'm back on active duty, albeit for limited time slots, and not every day, but that's fine by me, at least until i get the new cameras working to my specifications. I'm not entirely fluent in their language yet.

Tom... Tom likes me the way i am. He enjoys being clung to when i can't find a camera to look through, and he's hinting around about putting a record feature on the new camera i made him put up in the bedroom. He says my eyes are beautiful and my hair is sexy, and he always did like being scratched. He really does like my hair, all 20 kilos of it. If i run it along his body while we're making love, he-- well. If you want to know, you can look at the recordings.

End log."

Harry grinned, thinking of what Tom was going to do to him when he read what Harry had put in the log today. He wondered what his superior officers thought about the more.... personal details he put in there. Oh, well. He found that he was much less inhibited than he had been... before. There just didn't seem to be a reason for inhibitions anymore. Life was short. He'd make the best of it.