Chapter Text
Tom took a step back; Harry — the living Harry — grabbed his arm and moved in front of him, as if to protect him.
"That's not what he means," Kes said. "It's not a threat." She paused, listening to something only she could hear. "He's remembering his death," she explained. "After he fell out of the hull breach, it took him two or three minutes to die."
"I'm sorry," Tom cried. He knew that. Had thought about it. People did not die instantly if exposed to the vaccuum of space. "B'Elanna tried to save you, but the transporter wasn't working. There was so much damage…"
"He's not angry," Kes said. "He wants you to know that while he was dying, his main regret was that he didn't tell you how he felt about you."
"How he felt about me?"
The living Harry grew very still, and didn't meet Tom's eyes when he glanced at him.
"He says ask Harry. He knows," Kes said. "He has to go now."
A bright light appeared behind the ghostly Harry. He turned and went toward it. Someone was waiting for him. Someone who looked like Tom. Who seemed to be holding a baby. Then they were gone.
"Oh, they took Naomi with them," Kes said. "I'll miss her, but she's better off there."
"Is he…gone for good?" Tom asked. "The ghost Harry, I mean."
"He could come back from time to time," Kes said. "He has a connection to this timeline, since it's the one he's from. But he came here for a purpose, not to haunt you or Voyager. Now that his message is delivered, I doubt we'll see him much."
"He just wanted to tell me he thought of me as he was dying?"
"He doesn't want you to be alone," Kes said. "And he doesn't want Harry to be alone, either. That's why he came back."
Harry looked like he wished the deck would open up and swallow him. He must feel that Tom had rejected him. Tom ran a hand through his hair. They had been getting so close. Harry had every reason to think something would come of it. Until…
"You two need to talk," Kes said.
They went to the holodeck. Sandrine's.
Sandrine set glasses of wine down on their table, then went back to the bar. They were the only non-holographic patrons tonight; Tom had set the privacy lock.
Harry fingered the stem of his glass, staring at it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "It's okay," he said. "I understand."
"Understand what?"
"It's him you love. The Harry who died. Not me."
Was that what Harry thought? Damn. "No, Harry, that's not it at all. You're still Harry." Still my Harry, he thought, but didn't say it. There were only a few hours difference between the two timelines. Not enough time to change who Harry was.
"Then, why…?"
Their relationship had been edging toward intimacy. Harry had to be confused at Tom's sudden distance. And Tom hadn't really understood it himself…until now.
"You…he wasn't the only one who had regrets when you…he fell out that rupture."
"We got a second chance."
"And I was too afraid to take it."
"What?"
"Harry, I don't know what I would have done if…"
"If what?" Harry prompted, when Tom didn't continue.
"I hardly had time to mourn you, and then you were back. I was overjoyed. And also terrified."
"You're afraid of me?" Harry seemed completely baffled.
"Afraid of how I feel about you. And what it's going to do to me if you die again. Harry…I just couldn't take losing you. I'm not strong enough."
Harry reached out, his natural inclination to touch Tom, offer comfort. Then he pulled his hand back, and it about broke Tom's heart. "I understand," Harry said. "There's a saying… 'Every love story is a tragedy.' It's going to end, eventually. One way or another."
"Maybe not," Tom said, thinking about the ghosts they'd seen tonight. "Maybe some love, at least, is eternal."
Harry smiled softly. He looked…hopeful? "What's the worst that could happen, Tom? If I die, you'd mourn me, but you'd get over it, and find someone else."
"What if I don't?"
"Then I'll come back and haunt you until you do."
Tom gave a surprised laugh. "That sounds like you." It was, in fact, what the other Harry had done, wasn't it?
It was nice to think that love survived death. But even if it didn't…fear of loss was a cowardly reason to avoid love. And Tom liked to think he was not a coward. He was considering asking Harry back to his quarters to spend the night, but Harry made the first move.
"How about dinner tomorrow night?" Harry asked, sweetly tentative.
So. Harry wanted to go slowly. Probably not a bad idea. "Is this a date, Mr. Kim?"
"If you want it to be?"
"Oh, I want it to be," Tom said, as Harry broke into a delighted grin.