TITLE: THE HEALING TIME

AUTHOR: PEJA

FANDOM: STAR TREK VOYAGER

Pairing: Chakotay/Paris Dukat/Paris, implied

Rating: NC-17

Status: new WIP

Archive: WWOMB.

Feedback: If you want to see more.....

E-mail: daltonavon@yahoo.com

Series/Sequel: This story is the result of a story by Morticia, called "Double Jeopardy" and written with permission from that author to use her universe. Thankz to Morticia for the story that inspired and the permission to expand.
You can catch Morticia's story (best bet if you want to follow this with any chance of understanding) at:
http://www.stas.net/1/daltonavon/VOY/doublejeopardy.html

Other websites: PEJAs Ravings

Disclaimers: these characters are Gene Roddenbery's, but he doesn't need than anymore, does he. anyway, well I sure as heck do NOT own these guys. It's the first dip into this pond, even...so be nice

Summary: Chakotay's betrayal unhinges Paris. Paris is back in Cardassian hands with only Chakotay to dig him out.

Notes: BDSM WARNING/TORTURE WARNING/BE CAREFUL WARNING. Abuse and violence in abundance.

Warnings: hey, didn't we just do that...?

Acknowledgments: thankz to Morticia for letting me play with this little creation of hers

By PEJA

Tom Paris relished the pain that washed through him with each step. He'd opted to forego regenerating the damage his lover had done him in that last savage coupling. Wanting to keep that pain with him for as long as possible.

He'd had a tinge of worry when Chakotay had informed him that he was to go aboard the ship waiting to meet him and proceed to the Auckland Maximum Security. There, he was to hand deliver the message Chakotay gave him directly to the warden of the prison then return back here with any message the Warden cared to relay. The concerns had fled when Chakotay had taken him in his arms just before he’d gone aboard the waiting ship and ravished his mouth with a heated good-bye kiss.

Chakotay loved him. He might have been angry, but he really did love him.

That knowledge carried Paris on the wings of the future dancing in his head through the echoing halls and into the Warden's office.

"Warden James?"

The white haired man rose from behind his desk, nodding. "You have something for me?"

Paris handed over the data pad wordlessly.

James coded the pad and frowned. "You know what's on this, Mr Paris?"

"No, sir. My orders are to deliver the message and return with any answer you cared to give."

The warden consulted the message again. "That won't be necessary, Mr Paris." He leaned over and pressed a button on his desk.

An energy bubble enveloped the stunned pilot, "Wha..."

"Mr Paris, you are under arrest. The charges are undisclosed until a later date. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Paris stared at the older man for a moment before he began to laugh softly. His laughter grew, raising to fever pitch.

He was still laughing hysterically when the guards led him away.

CHAPTER ONE

Warden James looked exhausted. The bandage around his head proclaimed that he was making the report before seeking medical assistance. "That's the information we have, Commander Chakotay," he said, his voice shaking. "I've forwarded the vidtapes related to the attack. And some related to prisoner XX005-6X's condition."

"You said the prisoner suffered some sort of break-down when he was arrested?"

"A complete mental collapse, yes. He never spoke again after the initial shock wore off. His condition required we place him in a special ward where he could be looked after on a 24 hour a day basis."

Chakotay nibbled at his lower lip. "Could he have been faking. He's a renowned actor...."

"The prisoner was not faking his condition, no. Read the reports, commander. Then do what you can to get him back from the Cardassians. The staff that work with him are eager to have him come home."

"You sound like you like him?"

The warden nodded. "Since we couldn't risk his family finding out he was here, I spent shifts working with him, too." A draw out sigh sounded. "Commander, you need to understand something. The prisoner has totally withdrawn into himself. He's a virtual newborn in a man's body. He can't feed himself. In fact, he won't take anything by mouth. Solids are completely beyond him. He chokes on them. Liquids make his throat close up. He has to be fed intravenously. In his near lucid moments he has to be monitored. We caught him slashing his face and chest before we realized he had moments when he could move about."

"His...face...?"

"There was no scarring, Commander, but the lucid moments, the self-mutilations have been escalating over the last few months. His psychiatrist believes that since his body has not died through neglect, his mind has activated motor function to the point where he can die by his own hand." James met Chakotay's eyes over the monitor. "Whatever he's done, Tom Paris can no longer be held responsible."

Chakotay's smile was nothing more than a show of sharp teeth. "I'll keep that in mind, Warden. Chakotay out." He reached to disconnect the link.

"Wait, commander."

Chakotay's hand hovered over the breaker for a second before he leaned back. "Continue."

"There's something that's not in the reports. Something we felt should not be....documented. At least until we found out if we could reverse it."

Chakotay frowned. "You really think falsifying your reports...."

"Commander, I don't need or want a dressing down," the older man snapped. "I and the rest of the team that worked with Paris knew what we were doing. We felt it was best not to make this discovery part of an official record."

Chakotay sighed heavily, waving away the man's excuses. "What was so shocking that you concealed it?'

James hesitated a second, his eyes wavering. "While we were working up a case history we ascertained that there were several things done to the man dating back to infancy. Commander, Paris has been the subject of the worst case of abuse I've ever seen. There is evidence to the fact that he was abused sexually as young as six months. Internal scarring confirms this."

"My God...."

"There is also evidence of neural remapping." James met Chakotay's eyes then. "Commander, as far as we can determine, this man's brain interprets pain as a sexual stimulus. The more pain he feels, the more sexually excited he becomes. Being beaten to death, for him, would potentially be the most intense sexual experience he would ever hope to have."

Chakotay blanched, remembering that last episode. How he'd raped the willing. And knowing what he knew now, he knew it had been rape. Both of mind and body.

"Understood. Chakotay out." This time he slapped the connection into death.

Drawing a stabilizing breath he tapped his comm. "Report."

"We have visual contact with the Cardassian ship, Sir," came back. "Sir, they appear to be waiting for us."

**************

"You stupid whore, what have you been doing to yourself." Dukat ripped out the archaic medical assembly that fed and medicated Tom Paris. He leaned over the wasted young man and jerked his head around so he could met the prisoner's vacant gaze. "Paris?" he rasped harshly. "Paris, can you hear me?"

"Leave him alone," Warden James shouted, earning himself a pipe to his head.

The warden slumped to his knees. "Please, in the name of God..."

"God?" Dukat asked, dragging Paris up into a sitting position. "Cardassian's have no god."

James stared through the blood saturating his lashes. "Just leave him alone. He's of no use to you. You can't torture someone who doesn't know he's being hurt."

"I don't mean to torture our little spy, do I, Paris?" Dukat hissed. "Oh, no. I'm taking him back to Cardassia. He's to face trial for treason, followed by a slow and painful death." Dukat chuckled. "Who knows, he might even enjoy that part of it."

"No, you can't...." James stumbled to his feet, managing a couple wobbly steps before he was brought down with another brutal thud of the pipe against the back of his head. The warden slumped to his knees, reaching before his eyes rolled back in his head and he crashed face down on the floor.

"Oh, yes, I can." Dukat chuckled. A cruel hand wrenched Paris upright.

The human's head lolled on his neck, his eyes open, unrecognizing of the danger.

Dukat pressed a biting kiss on Paris' unresponsive lips, drawing back to touch the blood streaming down Paris' chin. Smiling, he shoved the sleep gown up over Paris' hips and long taloned fingers scored the comatose man's soft cock. "Don't worry, Paris," he said, his eyes glowing with malicious intent. "We'll have plenty of time to play before you die." He grasped Paris' balls and gave them a vicious twist that should have had the human screaming in agony.

Paris didn't even flicker an eyelash.

A dark frown creased Dukat's forehead. "How very curious." He drew his dagger and sliced a deep cut from Paris' elbow to his wrist.

Blood rushed down his hand to puddle on the floor.

Paris never even winced.

Grinning, Dukat grasped a handful of pale brown hair and jerked Paris's head back. "Thomas Paris," he said in a resounding voice. "You have been apprehended for high treason against the Cardassian Empire." His smile turned feral. "And for the mortal crime of being a runaway slave.. Both these charges carry a death sentence. To be carried out by slow torture."

With that, he heaved the unresponsive human over his shoulder. "Time to go home, slut." The Cardassian assault team vanished in a sparkle of transport.

*******************

"End transmission" Chakotay turned to address his bridge crew. "That is the condition Mr Paris was in when he was taken. I can only assume his mistreatment has continued since he was broken out of the facility."

"Perhaps it would be more merciful to let the Cardassian's execute him." Tuvok offered.

Chkotya swiveled around and pinned the Vulcan with a look of total loathing. "You were awake during the transmission, were you not?"

"Yes, sir."

"You witnessed his treatment?"

"Yes."

"What do you think Paris is going through while we waste time debating the pros and cons of his rescue?"

Tuvok straightened his spine, folding his hands behind his back. "Considering his mental state, I do not believe the man is experiencing any discomfort. It is illogical to risk four ships for the sake of a man who...."

"Tom Paris is one of our own."

"Tom Paris is a traitor you had imprisoned without benefit of trial."

Chakotay stared at the view screen where the unsuspecting Carassian ship, a small but heavily armed runabout, hung suspended against the backdrop of stars. "I'm going after him." He glanced toward the comm officer. "Have the other ships reported in?"

"Affirmative." the junior responded. "They are in position. Ready to move on your order."

Chakotay's eyes glowed with feral light. "Are you with me, Tuvok? Or do you want to stand off until the skirmish is complete?"

The arrogant Vulcan seemed to puff up before Chakotay's eyes as he tilted his chin. "At your command, sir."

Chakotay nodded, once. He turned back toward the view screen. "Open a channel to the Cardassian ship. Wide angel broadcast, filtered back to the other ships."

"Aye." the comm officer's hands moved swiftly.

Dukat Gull's reptilian form appeared on the main view. A battered and bloody body slumped at his feet.

It took a moment to realize that the battered form was Tom Paris.

"Ah, Chakotay," the man said, nudging the body over onto its back. "So you came."

Rearing back a foot he delivered a vicious kick to Paris ribs. Paris curled around the blow instinctively, soundlessly.

"For this human rubbish."

Chakotay tilted a slow smile. "Yes."

"How very gallant of you," Dukat jeered. "You claim him? By what right?"

"That man was a prisoner. You violated our laws by helping him escape."

"Oh, but we are simply extraditing a dangerous criminal for prosecution." Dukat hitched an awkward bow. "We thank you for apprehending this dangerous enemy of Cardassian."

Chakotay leaned back in his seat. "He doesn't look so very dangerous to me." His smile quirked. "Or is he pretending at your order again?"

Dukat bent, tangling a cruel hand in sandy brown hair. He straightened, dragging the lolling body up to its knees. "Does this look like a man faking his condition?"

Chakotay shrugged one well defined shoulder. "He's very good when he's in the role."

"Yes, isn't he?" Dukat released Paris with a rough shove. The battered body slumped in on itself. "Is it true, Chakotay? Did this fool lose his sanity over you?"

Chakotay suppressed the wince shuddering through him. "Me?" He forced a laugh. "A whore like him knows better than to fall in love, doesn't he? They're only interest in the payment, right? In and out with the cash. then back to the pimp who owns them." He shook his head. "You own that slut, don't you? He would no more lose his head over me than over anyone else."

Dukat's scathing glance ran over the bloody pile of meat at his feet. "You may be right. You may very well be right." He set his foot on the unmoving human's neck, digging into the soft tissue.

"If you kill him," Chakotay hissed. "My squad will destroy you."

Dukat met his enemies eyes over the screen. "Squad?"

"Commander, there are four....No, six heavily armed ships appearing."

Dukat whirled around toward the man who had spoken off screen. "What?"

Chakotay smiled cruelly. "Romulian cloaking devices are very handy in the Marquis."

Dukat straightened, his eyes blazing. "If you fire on us, you will kill Paris with the rest of us."

Smiling a cat's cream smile, Chakotay settled in his command chair and crossed his legs. "I don't see a problem with that." He waved a careless hand toward Tuvok. "Lock on phasers."

"Commander, all ships are locking weapons on us." someone said off screen.

Dukat raised his hands. "You would really destroy the ship with this scum on board."

Chakotay didn't answer. He didn't have to.

"Drop shields." Dukat snapped. "Take him." He smiled. "I would live to reclaim him later."

Chakotay leaned forward in his chair. "Beam him to sick bay, Mr Tuvok."

PART 3

Chakotay didn’t lose any time getting to sickbay. Only to find himself banished to a sitting room while the doctors took their time, so it seemed, in determining the patient’s injuries.