Author: Polly Bywater

Pairing: C/P, and sorta P/K but not exactly

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Paramount owns 'em, we all know it, no money made here.

Archive: ASCEM, Cha_Club

Summary: Something unexpected happens to Chakotay when he meditates.

Notes: Halloween has always been my favorite holiday, and what's a proper Halloween without a ghost story? Although there are some similarities in the basic concept, no plagiarism of Amirin's story 'Haunting' or Stormravens's story 'Solstice Sorrows and Spirits' is intended. The actual inspiration came from a Sentinel story, 'Redemption' by Dolimir (yes, I read Senfic, it's kinda like the Dark Side of the Force, ya know, just irresistible sometimes in its magnitude). Thanks Maxi for encouraging me to go back to my C/P 'roots' to get over my writer's block. Good idea. You helped.

One more note and a warning: It's canon, folks. The Harry Kim whom Tom Paris befriended on DS9, the same Harry Kim that B'Elanna Torres had to practically carry out of the Ocampan underground, well, *that* Harry Kim is dead, ['Deadlock', season 2] and it doesn't really matter that his AU counterpart showed up and took over his life, he's still dead. And maybe he deserves to be heard from. Since I wasn't too kind to poor Harry in 'Green Ruins', I wanted to let him have his say. This work is not intended to stomp on anyone's particular spiritual beliefs.

The last note: Not my usual style. No sex. Use your imagination.

From 'Remorse for Any Death' by

Jorge Luis Borges

For Chakotay of Dorvan 5, meditation was as essential as breathing. Even though his schedule seldom permitted a daily session, he made time for it as often as possible, and the end of today's tiring bridge shift had spurred him into changing out of his uniform and sitting with his akoonah on the deck of his quarters.

No two meditative states were ever identical, but they were frequently similar, given Chakotay's favorite focal point. A safe place, *his* safe place, a remembered location from the world of his birth. Warm and wooded, almost always sunlit and fair; he usually wrapped the sounds and sights and scents around himself with each trip to the spiritual plane, renewing his soul and centering his thoughts.

Where he was now, however, was no place he'd ever been.

He knew it was Earth, but the scenery was completely foreign. Rocky hills rose around him, impervious and spare, while the air held a saline clarity that implied a nearby ocean. Light silvered wantonly over grass and stone, making everything vivid and pure. His mind's eye was drawn to the sky, where familiar/unfamiliar constellations turned in glorious splendor around a full and lavish moon. Altogether beautiful, but surprising... which was an emotion that intensified when Chakotay 'looked' down and found Harry Kim sitting across from him, mirroring his own cross-legged position and favoring him with a beautiful, wide smile.

"Harry?"

"Commander Chakotay. I was hoping you'd meditate today," and Harry sounded so genuinely pleased that Chakotay couldn't help but return that smile, although part of his mind wondered what Harry was doing *here*.

"Do you know what today is?" Harry asked seriously, apparently aware of Chakotay's confusion.

"It's Stardate-"

"No, no. On Earth, Commander. Do you know what the Standard date is on Earth?"

Chakotay gave Harry a rather self-conscious shrug. To tell the truth, he *didn't* know. Too long reckoning by stardates, too long in the Delta quadrant.

Dorvan 5 didn't exactly follow Earth's calendar, anyway.

"It's October 31st, All Hallow's Eve. Samhain, or the Day of the Dead, if you prefer that term."

Chakotay looked then, really *looked* at the Harry Kim seated so close to him, and realized this was not the same man with whom he'd left the bridge at the end of their duty shift. This Harry was fresh-faced and bright-eyed, dressed in a loose fitting tunic and slacks made out of what looked like yellow silk. This Harry's expression reflected no hard-won maturity; no frown lines nor unhappy shadows. Instead, it reflected anticipation. Excitement.

Youth.

Chakotay gasped.

"You're- you're *our* Harry, our Harry who-"

He couldn't go on, but the spirit before him merely grinned.

"Who died when the hull was breached. Yes, Commander, that's me."

"You sound pretty cheerful about it," Chakotay remarked a bit inanely out of shock. He knew intellectually that Harry had died, of course he remembered, but somehow it had never seemed real. The duplicate Harry Kim from the AU Voyager had taken the place of their original almost immediately, and to deny *that* Harry was real would have meant denying Naomi Wildman's reality, as well.

No one among them had been willing to do that.

Years had gone by since then, years of watching Naomi grow and watching the duplicate Harry settle into Ops as a valued member of the senior staff. Chakotay doubted there was anybody on Voyager who gave much thought to the original Harry's death, including himself.

Except, perhaps, Tom Paris.

He sighed, feeling more than a little ashamed. The Harry Kim in front of him gave him a kind smile.

"Commander, you of all people should know that death is not an ending."

"You're right. I *do* know that," Chakotay murmured. He'd been taught since he was a child that physical life was ephemeral and transitory, but the soul endured forever. It was a lesson reinforced with every meditative journey. "Why are you here now?"

"On this day, the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead are at their thinnest. I'm *here* because I need your help."

Chakotay felt himself frown.

"How can I help you?"

"I believe the classic response is, I have unfinished business, Commander," Harry replied, and Chakotay had to grin at both the cliche and Harry's amused courtesy. The ghostly Harry was a lot more relaxed than the live version, which only made sense, Chakotay supposed. After all, what did Harry have to be afraid of, now?

"Under the circumstances, I think you can call me by my name, Harry."

"Thank you, Chakotay. Will you come with me, and let me show you what I'm here to finish? I've been watching Tom, and there's something you need to understand."

Chakotay wondered if he should be afraid, but he just couldn't seem to manage it. He was curious, yes, but not frightened. He looked into the shining face of Harry's spirit, and nodded his head.

Harry seemed relieved, holding out one hand that Chakotay accepted without reluctance, and their surroundings altered immediately. The moonglow morphed into the dim artificial light of his quarters, yet Chakotay knew he was still on the spirit plane, feeling an odd tugging sensation before his location changed once again.

And now he was really surprised, because he and Harry were standing in Tom Paris's quarters, apparently invisible. Tom and B'Elanna were sitting on Tom's sofa, and Chakotay tried to push aside the discomforting knowledge that he was spying on something private.

"Harry-"

"Just watch, Chakotay, and listen," Harry ordered in the kind of tone he had never used on his senior officer.

Considering the circumstances, Chakotay decided not to disobey.

"I'm sorry, Tom," B'Elanna was saying, her eyes unexpectedly moist, and Tom gently patted her hand.

"It's okay, B'Elanna. I understand, really."

"Do you, Tom? It's not you, it's-"

"Don't say it. You don't have to say anything," Tom interrupted her, his voice low and calm. "Sometimes things just don't work out the way we want them to."

Tom Paris smiled at B'Elanna Torres, and Chakotay wondered if she could tell that Tom's smile never touched those blue eyes.

"Tom, we were friends first-" She started to say, and Tom interrupted her again, his manner so casual and easygoing Chakotay could almost assume he didn't care at all... if it weren't for the sympathetic pain so obvious on Harry's face.

"And we're still friends, B'Elanna."

She looked at him searchingly, and Tom squeezed her hand.

"We're okay, then?" She asked uncertainly.

"We're fine, B'El. I'll see you tomorrow, all right?" Tom was up and off the sofa and escorting B'Elanna to the door before she had time to frame a response. "Good night, B'Elanna."

"N-Night, Tom."

She left, and as soon as the door hissed shut behind her, Tom ordered a privacy lock then leaned his forehead against the unyielding metal. The slump of his shoulders hit Chakotay like a blow to the gut.

"Shit. Shoulda known that was coming, Tommy boy."

Tom lifted his head and turned around, walking over to a shelf where several holopics were sitting. He retrieved one and sank back down on the sofa, his lips twisting wryly as he looked at his father's portrait.

"Well, Dad, when you're right, you're right. I *do* always screw it up somehow. Why the hell do women say 'it's not you, it's me' anyway, huh? What kind of bullshit line is that? It's nobody *but* me. I just didn't love her the way she wanted me to, and she just *couldn't* love me." Tom set the holopic down on the small table in front of the sofa, then rubbed his hands over his face.

"You ruined me, you know," he said to his father's image, his manner as conversational as if the Admiral was actually sitting there. "I'll never believe in real love because I've never seen it. I doubt that I'm capable of it. After all, I'm a Paris, right? Can't love, can't be loved, unlovable. The closest I ever came..."

Tom got up and replaced the holopic on the shelf, picking up another one, instead, himself with Harry Kim. The image had been captured sometime during Voyager's visit to Sikaris, if Chakotay recognized the background correctly, just a few months after coming to the Delta.

"The closest I ever came," Tom repeated in a low whisper, his fingertips tracing lightly over Harry's features. "Still miss you, Har."

"Aw, Tom," Harry muttered, and Chakotay abruptly found himself returned to his quarters, staring at his akoonah and wondering what in the hell he'd just witnessed and had Tom meant what it sounded like he meant and if that was true- if that was-

Chakotay looked up, and there was Harry, sitting across from him, just as he'd appeared on the spirit plane... save the fact that he was rather translucent, now, and glowing just a bit. Chakotay decided that would probably bother him if he thought about it too much, so he let that go in favor of what was currently occupying his mind.

"Harry? Were you and Tom lovers?"

"We were friends, but we might have become lovers, except for two things," Harry admitted, sadness a vague shadow in his bright eyes. "We ran out of time. *I* ran out of time. I wasted too much of it, thinking about what I'd left behind, my fiancée and my life on Earth. By the time I was ready to move on, it was too late for me."

"But the other Harry-"

"Didn't, doesn't feel that way about Tom. We aren't the same person, Chakotay, and Tom knew that. Tom's always known that. You *do* know he's wrong, don't you? About being incapable of love?"

Chakotay rubbed his forehead and sighed. Yeah, he knew Tom was wrong. Tom Paris was one of the most caring people Chakotay had ever met, although it had taken a while to recognize that, given the way Tom hid that aspect of his personality.

His heart was sore for all three of them; Tom, Harry, and himself, as well, although he wasn't exactly clear on why *he* felt so hurt. It was more than the undeniable tragedy of the whole situation. There was something more personal in his pain, some part of this he hadn't quite wrapped his mind around...

"You said 'two' things. What's the other reason?" He asked in an effort to distract himself, gazing at the spectral presence of the late Harry Kim.

"I wasn't the only one who had feelings for someone else. Tom was trying to accept that he would never have a relationship with the person he wanted." Harry gave him a lopsided grin and rested one hand on Chakotay's forearm. It felt like a fine, cool mist had touched his flesh. "Tom still needs you, Chakotay."

The implications exploded in Chakotay's mind, staggering him; a blast radius that expanded through heart and soul. In that instant, everything Chakotay thought he understood about himself and Tom Paris disintegrated. Matter reduced to its component molecules, only to slowly reform into something he'd never seen. Never acknowledged.

Never dared to admit.

The way Tom used to watch him- hell, *still* watched him, when he caught it in his peripheral vision. Tom's antagonism during the long months after Voyager had initially landed in the Delta. The sorrow behind Tom's eyes whenever he and Chakotay spoke now, even during a friendly conversation. The way the younger man's entire personality had changed over the last few years. Failed relationship after failed relationship, with B'Elanna being only the latest attempt, scarcely less superficial than the others.

Chakotay could see it all, laid out for him in the gentle smile of a dead man. Step-by-step coordinates on an emotional starchart.

Tom Paris had been attracted to *him*. Tom had hidden the truth from everyone besides Harry Kim and strangled the attraction. Given it up as a lost cause, punished himself –as well as everybody around him- through the resultant pain, then found himself on the verge of making something real with his best friend... before suffering through the loss of that friend. After that, Tom Paris stopped *trying* and had resigned himself to settling.

Now Tom was alone. And what echoed inside Chakotay wasn't merely a sympathetic ache for the hurt Tom was feeling. It wasn't the indulgent affection of an older, wiser officer. It wasn't the detached regret of the acting ship's counselor.

Chakotay found he couldn't admit what it was.

"Harry," he whispered, caught in the liquid dark eyes that met his so steadily. "I don't- I didn't- I can't just-"

"I don't have *time* for this," Chakotay half heard and half felt. The words dropped into his mind like freezing drops of liquid mercury, skittering and bouncing around in his head. Then the chill was moving through his entire body, sinking into him, bone deep and sure.

He shuddered once, hard, and the cold feeling faded. It took Chakotay a moment to notice he could no longer see Harry's ghost, and a few moments after that before he realized Harry wasn't gone.

Harry was inside him.

He watched, speechless, as he stood and smoothed his hands down the simple brown off-duty shirt he was wearing... all of it done without any input from him. He could *feel* what he was doing, and *see* what he was doing, but he was powerless to control his own actions.

Totally powerless.

Along for the ride as Harry walked his body out of his quarters and down the corridor to the turbolift. Unable to prevent the calm "Deck four" that fell out of his mouth. Not surprised, either, to be ambulated off the lift and taken towards Tom Paris's door.

His hand was moving, his fingers about to override Tom's privacy lock with a code that Harry Kim undoubtedly remembered. Chakotay fought for a shred of control and stalled his fingers midway.

//I can't do this, Harry!//

//Oh, you can, Chakotay. Because I've been watching *you*, too.//

And the shock of that matter-of-fact declaration rushed over Chakotay's mind, setting off another internal bomb.

That subliminal charge that ran under his own skin any time he was near Tom. The way he always *knew* where Tom was, whether they were in a crowd at Sandrine's or off the ship doing survey duty on the planet of the week... his eyes subconsciously drawn by that familiar lean-hipped walk or a flash of blond hair. Then there was his relief when the holodoc would sign off on the chief pilot's health, and the pleasure he took on those rare occasions when he'd overhear Tom's laughter.

All parts to a whole. A truth Chakotay had buried deep and practically salted the ground over in an effort to hide from himself.

He was so stunned he didn't even notice his hand keying in the override, but he definitely noticed when he marched into Tom's quarters and plunked himself down on the sofa beside his host, who was regarding him with a rather stupefied expression in those beautiful blue eyes.

And they were beautiful. Chakotay had to admit, he'd always thought so.

"Uh, Commander? No offense, but I'm really not in the mood for company."

//Harry? Is he going to ignore the fact that I walked into his quarters uninvited and unannounced?//

//Yeah, he is, and why do you think he's doing that? Because he doesn't *care* why you're here. Part of him is just happy to see you.//

//But he said he's not- //

//Hello! You're supposed to listen to the spirits, Chakotay, so start listening! Just let me handle this. I didn't spend almost two years with Tom Paris without learning a few things.//

Chakotay had time for the quick thought that Harry was a lot more forceful now that he was dead; then Harry was moving his body again, sinking him backwards into the corner of the sofa and half-turning him towards Tom... opening his hands to rest palm-out in a nonverbal appeal.

Tom was staring at him, his face an odd mixture of resignation and something that looked faintly like reluctant hope.

"I'm sorry, Tom, but when I checked the computer for your location and found out you were alone, I had to come," Chakotay heard himself say, or more precisely, heard Harry say.

"Why?" Tom asked doubtfully.

"Look, we're friends, aren't we?"

Tom winced. Remembering the scene he'd witnessed between Tom and B'Elanna, Chakotay wanted to kick Harry Kim's metaphysical butt all over the spirit plane, but Tom startled him by snickering. For the first time, Chakotay admitted Harry knew Tom better than he did, at least, right now. Chakotay made himself a little resolution to change that as soon as possible.

"Oh, yeah, Chakotay. We're like this," Tom said, holding up two fingers pressed closely together, his smile genuinely amused even though his tone was pure sarcasm.

"Hey, didn't we play pool in Sandrine's the other night? And dabo in the resort last week?"

Chakotay sighed internally, recognizing another truth in Harry's earlier assertions. Harry *had* been watching. Both of them.

"Okay. Point taken. So, what. You're here to comfort me or something?"

//Harry, you aren't going to let him think- //

//Shit, no! If Tom thinks you're here to offer him a pity fuck, he'll go nuts.//

//A pity fuck! Just how far do you expect to go with this?//

//Far enough.// Thought rather grimly.

And that was all the answer Chakotay got out of Harry before he heard the next words falling out of his own mouth.

"Comfort you, Tom? I was hoping you could comfort *me*."

Tom cocked his head sideways and inspected Chakotay curiously, his eyes bright and clear. Chakotay realized with some surprise that Tom already looked happier than he'd looked a few minutes ago... and with that simple observation, Chakotay understood everything Harry had been trying to tell him in the last hour.

Tom loved him, and he- he loved Tom. It was a truth as basic as the atomic weight of a hydrogen atom. It was also as complex as Spock's Formulae for Temporal-Stellar Relativism.

Amazing.

//All right, *now* you're getting it. Finally.//

The relief Chakotay felt from Harry made him shiver. He almost missed hearing what Tom asked next.

"Why do *you* need comforting, Chakotay?"

Harry lowered Chakotay's head then rubbed one hand at the nape of his neck, peering at Tom from underneath his eyelashes. Tom's face went slightly pink, and if Chakotay had been in control of himself, he would have been hard-pressed not to smile. Now that he fully recognized what was going on, this was almost fun, in a surreal kind of way.

//I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, Commander.//

"I was meditating a while ago, Tom, and I got a message from the spirits. Do you know what today is?"

//What are you doing, Harry?//

//Shh!//

"Oh, yeah, it's Halloween," Tom, son of Earth, answered. "Trick or treat, jack-o-lanterns, costume parties, candy."

"Right. In some cultures, it's more than that. I was reminded, it's a day to honor the dead, reflect on our own mortality. Confront our fears of dying," Chakotay heard himself say, and had to hand it to Harry for sticking so close to the truth while simultaneously dodging it so neatly.

"So the spirits told you to override my security lockout and bust into my quarters so we could spend Halloween together?" Tom concluded, one eyebrow on the fly.

"Actually, that's exactly what happened."

Chakotay felt his eyelashes flutter as Harry made him look squarely at Tom and smile... and Tom astonished him by smiling back. A beautiful open smile, the kind Chakotay seldom got to see, full of sweet good humor and genuine pleasure.

"Chakotay. What's really going on?"

Chakotay watched with some awe as his hands reached out and took hold of Tom's, his thumbs stroking over the long, slender fingers in a rhythm that only Harry Kim could hear. Maybe he should have guessed that touching Tom Paris would feel good, but how could he have known it would be so easy? Like sinking into a heated pool, enveloping and warm. He wondered if making love to Tom would give him that same welcome-home feeling, and found himself turning Tom's hands over to brush his thumbs over Tom's palms.

And he wasn't sure if *he'd* done that, or if Harry had.

"I was thinking about lost opportunities, and how fragile life is, and how we should never take for granted that we have time to do everything we want," Harry murmured for Chakotay, eyes glued to Tom's. Chakotay felt Tom's fingers tighten around his hands almost convulsively then realized he was scooting even closer. Close enough to smell the soap and clean sweat and spice of pure Tomscent.

Wonderful scent.

"And I realized, Tom, that I've been taking your presence in my life for granted. I've wasted time that I can't get back, and I don't want to waste any more."

The words kept coming, and Chakotay wanted to close his eyes, but Harry kept them open, and Chakotay decided he was glad, so glad. Especially when he saw the effect those words were having on Tom, darkening those marvelous eyes, parting those perfect lips.

"It's October 31st. It's the New Year for some. It's a time to mark the turning of chaos into order, a time to acknowledge endings and plan for rebirth. Renewal. I want to make something new, too, Tom. Something good."

Chakotay hadn't known his own voice could sink quite that low, watching with fascination as Tom paled then blushed. He couldn't even be surprised any more that everything Harry said for him was the absolute truth. The only surprise lay in wondering why he hadn't said it for himself long before now, because he wanted this. Wanted Tom.

His hands reached out to cradle that precious face, and this time Chakotay was very sure Harry Kim had nothing to do with motivating his actions. It wasn't Harry Kim who spoke next, either.

"Make something new with me, Tom. Please."

"Something good," Tom agreed in a whisper, just before their mouths met in a surge of pure power.

(^^) (^^) (^^) (^^)

//Harry, thank you.//

Chakotay lay sprawled on the deck, flat on his back, Tom's sleeping weight a solid warmth on his chest. Pants shoved to knee level and shirts half off and the two of them glued to each other in a way that would undoubtedly result in hair loss upon separation... and Chakotay couldn't remember ever being quite this deliriously happy.

Home and heart, right here. Finally.

//Thank *you*, Chakotay. I can go on now. I couldn't leave him, before.//

That odd chill again, and a pulling sensation, then Harry Kim was sitting on the deck beside Chakotay, looking at them with a wistful smile.

Looking at Tom.

"I'll take care of him, Harry. I promise."

"It won't be easy to convince him that you really love him," Harry warned, one hand stroking lightly over Tom's hair. Tom sighed and nuzzled the side of Chakotay's neck, which led Chakotay to reflexively tighten his embrace.

"I know. He'll get it after he hears it every day for the next twenty or thirty years," Chakotay said, pleased when Harry's smile broadened.

"That should work."

The ghost of Harry Kim stood, a bright glow surrounding his translucent form.

"See you on the other side, Chakotay."

"Happy Halloween, Harry," Chakotay whispered, as the glow faded away.

He cradled the man in his arms and grinned up at the ceiling, thinking he really should pay more attention to the Standard calendar and Earth holidays. What was next? Thanksgiving?

Yeah, he'd be celebrating that one all year long.

The End

30 October 2002

Blessed Be to all this Samhain!

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