Title: Marking Time

Author: Debb

Warnings: None. Are there ever?

Disclaimer: Please don' sue me. You'd make me cry.

Archive: PK elite only, peaze.

Marking Time

Tom lay still, trying not to move. Trying not to breathe any more than he had to. His leg hurt. He almost laughed aloud with that thought. If he was lucky, he'd escape with a major reconstruction job for the Doctor. If he wasn't... well, then it wouldn't matter, would it?

He reached out a hand, almost able to touch the wall of debris that had come down between him and Harry when the cave had collapsed. His fault. This was his away mission; he should have checked more carefully before entering the caves. Made sure... of what? The upper layers had been stable. As far down as Voyager had been able to scan, they'd detected no faults, no debris, nothing to indicate that there was any reason to be concerned. Something deep in the caverns must have given way, bringing down everything else with it.

Gee. No wonder they'd been abandoned. They'd all be lucky to escape the poisonous fumes that must have been floating around down there.

Tom listened to the silence for a while, wondering if the rest of his team had been caught as thoroughly as he had. They'd split into two groups; maybe the other group had escaped entirely. Maybe Harry was okay on the other side of that wall. Maybe Tom Paris would turn into a pig and fly away into the sunset.

He wished he had that famous Vulcan time sense. That would be great right now. He wished he had a tricorder. Or a match, to see how worried he should be about oxygen. While he was wishing, he wanted an emergency medical kit. A painkiller sounded great right about now. He'd had all those things a few hours ago, of course, but they seemed to have disappeared into the clouds of dust and falling rocks. It was a shame he couldn't get up to search for them.

Of course, if he could get up, the first thing he'd do was tear down that wall between him and Harry; medikit and tricorder be damned.

Tom sat, not really thinking any more, except to wish occasionally that rocks weren't always so pointy and uncomfortable. He dozed after awhile, hoping that didn't mean he was running out of air.

After an unmeasurable amount of time, he heard what were unmistakably rescue parties above him, and dirt and small rocks began to fall down on him.

Again.

Great. he'd go out the same way he'd come in. in a rock slide. He coughed up blood and phlegm and dirt, and realized belatedly that he should probably mention his proximity to the rescue team.

"Hey," he called out weakly.

"He's conscious, Captain," someone shouted excitedly.

Wonderful. He wondered what condition the rest of his team must be in, to prompt such enthusiasm.

"Can you assist us, Mr. Paris?" came the Doctor's unmistakable voice.

"No. I'm pinned," He replied wearily. There was no response, but after a moment, someone slithered down the man-sized hole in the roof of his prison to examine the rock holding him in place. He shook his head. "We'll never be able to move it, Captain. He'll have to be beamed out with the other one," the Doctor called.

"What other one?" Tom demanded. "What's going on?"

"Ensign Michaels is pinned under a rock even bigger than this," he explained. "Just relax, Paris. Lots of injuries, but no deaths," he added reassuringly, placing a hypo against the Tom's neck.

Thank the gods. Everyone was okay. Harry was okay. Relief overcame him as it hissed against his skin, and he slid gratefully down into the darkness.