Disclaimer: All characters belong to Paramount and Star Trek Voyager. They are being used only for entertainment and I am making no money from their use. The story belongs to me, Magik, the author.

    B'Elanna Torres' day had been a disaster. First the holo emitters in the first holodeck had gone awry. Then Nelix had dripped hot Caldian soup into the electric components of the food replicator. This meant the entire crew had to eat his cooking. B'Elanna could not prove he had done this on purpose but she had her suspicions.

    Now all she wanted to be was sit back and relax. Unfortunately, she thought as she sat down at her desk, I still have a stack of data pads to analyze. As she picked up a data pad from the stack, a sudden, intense pain shot through her head.

    With a sigh B'Elanna ignored it and began entering sequences into the pad. The pain just grew worse and the information she was feeding into the pad became more and more off. With a slight cry she laid the pad down and rubbed her throbbing temples.

    This can not be happening, she thought. Not now. I can't handle it now.

    There was a slight knock at the door. "B'Elanna? Nelix said you came storming off here after giving him the third degree on the proper serving of Caldian soup." It was Tom Paris. Tom, the one person she ought to be happy to see.

    "Go `way," she called weakly to him as she lay on the couch in a fetal position.

    "Didn't mean to tease, love. Sorry. Can't I come in?" his voice was warm, completely oblivious to the turmoil that was wreaking havoc in her mind.

    "Tom, this really isn't the best time," she complained. There was only the sound of a few muffled beeps as he typed in the override code and the door slid open.

    Tom Paris stood in the doorway, his features very nearly angelic, the lights from the hallway shinning off his blond hair. He directed those blue eyes at her, the ones that could see into her very soul, and she was lost in their cool depths. Until another wave of pain coursed through her head.

    B'Elanna stifled a cry and held her head. Tom was at her side in an instant. "What's wrong?" he asked as he knelt down beside the couch. He watched her, carefully, studying every detail of her face. With a slightly shaking hand he brushed the brownish red hair off her face.

    "B'Elanna, what's wrong?" he asked again.

    "Nothing," she replied. "Just a headache. That's all. It hasn't been the best day, Tom."

    Tom stared into her deep brown eyes, searching for something, the truth. For while B'Elanna wouldn't lie to him she would conceal how bad things were for his sake. To protect him. He traced the ridges on her forehead with a finger.

    "Tom," she started.

    "Shhh. You're sure you're okay, sweetheart?"

    "How many times have I asked you not to call me that?"

    "As many times as I've said it," he joked back.

    Another rush of pain enveloped her mind and she sharply drew in her breath. Images flickered behind her closed eyelids. Dark images of someone lingering in the distance. Someone who frightened her very much.

    When she opened her eyes again she saw Tom's face pulled into a mask of worry. She laid her palm on his cheek. "There's nothing wrong, Tom," she tried to comfort him, "it's just a headache.

    "It's more than that," he insisted.

    B'Elanna narrowed her eyes and looked around her quarters. The place was a mess. "What happened?"

    "You were out for nearly two hours. At first I thought you were just asleep but when you started convulsing...I didn't know what to do. I looked for something to calm you down, wake you up. I was about the call sickbay!" his voice rose hysterically.

    "I'm all right, Tom. Really I am. I feel much better now."

    "Something isn't right," he insisted.

    B'Elanna rose from the couch, shaking off the arm he offered her. "Nothing's wrong!" she snapped. "And I'm sick of you following at my heels all day like a puppy. I'm tired of being worried and fussed over!"

    "Are you saying you want me to leave?"    

    "Right now, yes!"

    "I'm more than happy to leave you alone, B'Elanna. More than happy to! Just don't be surprised if I never come back!" With that he spun around and stomped out the open door. He heard it close behind him. Tears fell from his eyes as he leaned against the door. Something was wrong with B'Elanna. Something bad had happened to the woman he loved...and he didn't know what to do about it.

    Inside the room B'Elanna Torres lay down on the bed and pulled the covers up under her chin. She huddled in the middle like a scared child. Something dark was after her and she whimpered as the darkness spread over her, then fell into a deep sleep

    The darkness was strong and almost peaceful, but it was also very, very cold. It was bone freezing, mind numbing cold. Even with the intense cold B'Elanna felt totally at peace. There was darkness and freezing temperatures but there was no fear, no hate. None of the ever present emotions that had consumed and overwhelmed her every day of her life. This was a place of peace. A place about to be broken.

    At first there was only a muffled sound, blocked out by the darkness and the icy winds. However the sound grew louder and it echoed through the darkness. It blew the cold winds away. It flooded the world of darkness with light.

    Slowly her eyes flickered open. "B'Elanna?" Tom was standing over her, worry like a death mask on his strong features. "Doctor, is she...?"

    "She's fine. Now," came the monotone voice of the Doctor. "It's a good thing you found her when you did. A later rescue would have been well...unsuccessful."

    "It's so cold," B'Elanna rasped. Her entire body felt numb and stiff.

    "How are you?" Tom asked, taking her hand. He frowned and turned to the Doctor. "She's still as cold as ice."

    "What do you expect from someone who's been clinically dead for five hours?" the Doctor asked sharply.

    B'Elanna's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "What do you mean by that Doctor?" she asked, trying to sit up. At the discovery that she couldn't, she began to panic.

    "Please, Lt. Torres, lie still. You'll only make it worse," the Doctor pleaded, grabbing a tricorder.

    "Make what worse?! I can't move!" she cried hysterically, large tears forming in her brown eyes.

    Tom was at her side in a flash, holding her hand and trying to comfort her. "It's alright, B'Elanna. The Doctor said that the paralysis is only temporary."

    "When will I be able to move again?"

    "In a couple of hours," the Doctor barged in. Tom shot him a hard look. "Well, it's true Mr. Paris."

    "I can't stand that. There's no way. I have to get out of here! I have to!" B'Elanna cried, struggling to sit up, fighting to move. After a few minutes she broke down in hysterical tears.

    "Shhh. It's okay, B'Elanna. It's okay," Tom whispered as he embraced her. She only sobbed more when she realized that she couldn't hug him back.

    After a few minutes she stopped crying. She stopped attempting to sit up or move. She just stopped. "What happened?" she finally asked, her voice weary. Tom stood off to the side helping the Doctor with some scans.

    "Mr. Paris here checked to see how you were and found you lying on the bed. You were dead. No respiration, no heartbeat. In a panic he brought you here. It took half an hour to resuscitate you and you had already been clinically dead for four and a half hours," the Doctor paused and checked a clock. "Your paralysis should begin wearing off any minutes now. I warn you, there will be some sufficient pain involved."

    "That's fine. I can handle pain. Long as I'll be able to move again. I can't stand lying so still."

    Hot pain flashed through her body. It drilled itself into every pour, every muscle. B'Elanna stifled a cry as the pain built itself up to excruciating.

    I will not cry out, she thought to herself. To cry out is weak. To show how the pain paralyzes you is weak. I am not weak! I am not weak.

    The protest in her mind fell silent as the pain built up. Higher. Deeper. Until it touched everything. Until it was in control. Then she screamed.

    Her screams are hollow and empty, filled with rage. Rage at the pain that threatened to drown out every sensation. Pain that reminded her of all that had come before. The eternal pain, the life long struggle, that has always torn her apart. It is for all that that she wishes to die.

    And someone in her ravaged mind whispered peace. The pain will die in blackness. Everything will die. Yield, weak one, cease you struggle and everything will float away. The troubles will disappear. Let go, weak one, there is nothing here for you. Remember, only the strong survive.

    B'Elanna felt the cool wind. She let the darkness wash over her because the voice is right. She is weak and only the strong deserve to survive.

    "B'Elanna!" Tom cried out and raced over to the biobed as she started screaming. He grabbed her hand, trying to calm her down. After a couple of minutes she stopped screaming and lay perfectly still. "B'Elanna," he whispered, squeezing her hand. "B'Elanna. Please," he pleaded, as a single tear rolled down his cheek.   

    The Doctor pushed him aside with a small snort of indignance and leaned over B'Elanna's still form. He checked her pulse and her breathing but a worried look was evident on his face. With a slight `hmmm' he walked away from the biobed and over to his consul.

    Tom watched him worriedly. "Doctor," he started then lost his nerve. "Doctor, what's wrong with her?"

    The Doctor turned to look at him and Tom didn't like what was etched in those holographic eyes. "I'm afraid that at the moment I'm not quite sure what Lt. Torres is afflicted with. Whatever it happens to be, it is very serious and possibly lethal. The scans show high fluctuation levels in her brain patterns. One minute they're hers and the next they're like nothing I've ever seen. Has she mentioned any problems?"

    "When I went to see her she complained of a headache," Tom remarked, trying desperately to close his mind to what was being said. Wanting to hope that this was a bad dream and tomorrow he would wake up and everything would be fine. B'Elanna would be alright. Then Tom would be happy again. Only then.

    "It seems unlikely that the headache is the root of the problem. However is it possible that it's an outward manifestation," the Doctor hypothesized as he typed information into the consul.

    "Will she be alright?" Tom inquired.

    "I don't know..."

    The Doctor was cut off by a high pitched whine as the biobed's sensors recorded B'Elanna going into respiratory arrest.

    "B'Elanna!" Tom yelled and started to run back to her side.

    The Doctor stopped him. "Please leave Sickbay, Mr. Paris."

    "But Doc..."

    "No. I have a patient and I can't have some lovesick fool getting in my way. Now, please, Mr. Paris, leave or I'll have to call security."

    "Fine, Doc. Just...just as long as you inform me of any change in her condition," Tom said as he walked over to the door. "Promise me, Doc. Promise me."

    "I promise, Mr. Paris. If there's any change in her condition, whether it be good or bad, you're the first person I'll call. Now out!" the Doctor commanded as he pushed Tom out the open door and closed it behind him.

    As the Doctor busied himself with hooking B'Elanna up to a respirator and conforming the biobed's sensors to keep an eye on certain parameters, Tom sat in the hall, his back to the door and his head in his hands. While his world was crashing down around him the life of his only true love was slipping away.

    In Sickbay, The Doctor clicked on his comm badge. "Captain, please turn to your Emergency Medical Hologram channel," he said into it.

    "Yes, Doctor?" the captain inquired. Captain Kathryn Janeway was visibly concerned. The Doctor never used this secure channel unless it was something big.

    "Lt. Torres has come down with a mysterious aliment," he reported.

    "What sort of aliment, Doctor?" Janeway asked as she brushed a lose hair off her face.

    "I'm not sure. At first the only symptom was a few headaches but about six hours ago Lt. Paris found her in her quarters...dead. I was able to resuscitate her but as a side-effect she was paralyzed for approximately an hour. Just a few minutes ago she lost consciousness and went into respiratory arrest. Currently she is in stable condition," he reported, glancing at a PADD to check her stats.

    "Do you have any clue what's wrong with her?"

    "Not really, Captain, but I'm positive it has something to do with the fluctuations I have recorded in her brain patterns."

    "Fluctuations?" Janeway inquired, surprise evident in her voice as she leaned forward. "Tell me more, Doctor."

    "Yes, sir. If you will direct your attention to the screen on your left you will see Lt. Torres' usual brain patterns. Now, these," he said as he pushed a button, "are the recent brain patterns I've recorded from her. Note the differences and the large fluctuations in the differences." He pointed at the large spikes on the screen.

    "That's odd," came the dry, monotone voice of the Head of Security, Tuvok.

    "What's odd about it, Tuvok?" Janeway asked, turning toward the Vulcan.

    "If you examine those spikes closely, Doctor, you will find that each one is caused by different Klingon/human brain pattern combinations. Almost as if her brain was splitting itself apart."

    The Doctor studied the screen for a moment then turned back around. "He's right, Captain.

    "Would you care to explain, Doctor," Captain Janeway said, concern etching her face.

    "It's quite complicated, Captain. It seems that her mind has splintered into two subconscious brain waved. One is human, the other Klingon and at present they are fighting for control," the Doctor said.

    "Shouldn't we have noticed something strange about Lt. Torres' behavior earlier?" Janeway asked.

    "Yes, but only after a careful inspection. As I said, this is in the subconscious and the differences would take time to catch. With the condition Voyager has been in, we haven't really had time to question Lt. Torres' every word or action. Because of this her condition has gone unnoticed to the point where it may prove fatal," the Doctor informed her.

    Janeway glanced at the helm. "Doctor, where's Lt. Paris?"

    "Outside Sickbay's doors."

    "Isn't he your assistant now?"

    "Yes, but under the recent circumstances I don't think it would be wise to have him in here," the Doctor added.

    "Understood. Is he on good enough condition to pilot Voyager?"

    "It would be best to place him on light duty. His mental stability is questionable at this time," the Doctor replied.

    "Understood. Janeway out." Janeway turned the switch off and rubbed her temples. She had a nagging feeling that the nightmare had just begun.

    In Sickbay, B'Elanna's eyes fluttered open. A savage smile played across her face. Yes, the world of the living was meant to be the playground of the strong and now she was one of the strong.

    The Doctor turned away from the comm and saw his patient struggling to get up. "Lt. Torres, please stay down."

    "Sorry, Doc," B'Elanna growled as she sat up, pushing the biobed's sensors away. "Lt. Torres isn't here anymore. It's all B'Elanna. All Klingon."

    The Doctor stared at her for a moment. The ridges on her forehead, which had always been slightly noticeable, were now prominent and her teeth were more pointed. "Please Lt. Torres...B'Elanna, think about what you're doing," he pleaded.

    "I've spent months thinking about it, Doc. Months. Doesn't it make you proud to know that I've been here, for months, and you never noticed my presence? I know it makes me proud," she laughed. "Very proud." With a haughty snort she walked over to the central comm station.

    "When did Lt. Torres' subconscious begin to splinter? When were you `born'?" he asked.

    "Oh, Doc. Doc, that's a laugh. I was `born' the instant those damn Vidiians split the dear Lt. in two."

    "I fixed that."

    "Yes, you did your best to. However, you didn't ever imagine the different psychological traumas your patient would undergo in the next few years. Between that Vulcan Vorick and the mind-invading Mari you should have seen this coming. Bye bye, Doc. Computer deactivate the holographic doctor and override his activation code. Authorization Lt. Torres Alpha Beta 253," B'Elanna said with a sly smile.

    "Acknowledged," the computer answered as the Doctor faded away.

    "Now, where' the warp drive? Oh, and I can't forget about my dear, sweet boyfriend. Oh, Tom. Tommyboy." Yes, she though to herself, only the strong can survive. Only the strong.

    Tom had fallen asleep in the hall, his head leaned up against the door and his knees pressed against his chest. A peaceful smile crossed his face, indicating that only pleasant dream were occupying his mind.

    Then a sharp metallic sound came from Sickbay and woke him up. He sat there dazed for a moment while sleep clung to his blue eyes. The first though that crossed his mind at the sound of another metallic clang was a single name, B'Elanna. He was up in a flash, desperately trying to get the door open.

    "Stupid lock. Stupid, stupid lock!" he muttered as his override code was rejected again and again. He backed away from the door, growling in frustration as he pushed a hand though his hair.

    The door slid open with a sharp hiss and B'Elanna stood in the doorway silhouetted by Sickbay's dimmed lights. "Hello Tom," she cooed.

    "Hey, `Lanna," he replied as he studied her. She looked different. More savage than he had ever seen her. Her eyes were bright with a primal fire. "Good to see you up and around. What did Doc say was the matter?"

    "He didn't know," she lied and he could tell. "He told me I could go to my quarters while he runs some tests."

    "That doesn't sound like Doc's protocol," Tom said shrewdly as he walked with B'Elanna down the hall. He noticed that she took bigger steps and kept her head higher than normal.

    "Well, he knows how much I like Sickbay," she murmured. Maybe this was a bad idea, she though. Lt. Paris is a better observer than I ever imagined. I might have to rethink my plan. If he suspects anything, I could be ruined.

    "I see," he commented. She's acting so strangely, he thought. Not like herself at all. In fact that way B'Elanna's behaving reminds me of the time when the Vidiians spilt her in two. She's acting a lot like her full Klingon half did.

    "Are you feeling okay, Tommy? You look like you could use a nap!" Before Tom could brace himself, B'Elanna had grabbed him by the throat and slammed him up against the wall.

    "B'Elanna, don't," he choked out, his face turning red. He locked eyes with her, blue orbs meeting brown, and searched for the woman he knew, the woman he loved. There was no trace of her. None at all.

    "Sorry, Tommyboy, but you're a risk to my plan," she hissed as the last trace of consciousness left his eyes. The turbolift door opened and she stalked dow the hall humming a Klingon war song under her breath. She left Tom slumped on the floor. It was a cry for help. It was the real B'Elanna Torres praying for help.

    Captain Janeway walked into Sickbay. The lights were dimmed to a quarter illumination and no one was there. "Computer, activate the Emergency Medical Hologram," she commanded.

    The Doctor slowly materialized. He looked flustered and worried. Glancing wearily around, he ran a hand through what was left of his holographic hair.

    "Hello, Doctor, I trust I'm not bothering you?" she said and glanced around the room. Sickbay looked as neat as ever but she noticed that a few things were out of order. Little things that only a few people would notice. Little things that the Doctor wouldn't have missed.

    "Doctor, where's Lt. Torres?" Janeway asked, her mouth drawing into a tight line of worry.

    "It seems that the Klingon side of her mind won the battle and is now in control," he answered as he began rearranging some PADDs that had been haphazardly strewn across the room.

    "Where is she now? What happened?"

    "She shut my program off and then must have exited Sickbay," he paused and though the situation over. "We have to find her. Her mind is highly unstable right now."

    "Don't..." Janeway started but was cut off as her comm badge beeped. "Janeway here," she said as she tapped it.

    "Tuvok here. Lt. Paris has been attacked in a turbolift and I'm having him beamed directly to Sickbay."

    "Good work, Tuvok. Janeway out." Janeway turned to the Doctor.

    "B'Elanna," the said at the same time

    Lt. Tom Paris sat on Biobed II in Sickbay, a red line around his neck and a throbbing in his head. Days like this he wished he had just called in sick and stayed in bed.

    "How are you doing, Mr. Paris?" the Doctor asked as he hovered around his injured assistant.

    "I'm fine, Doc," he said as he pushed the tricorder away. "Really. Now, what is being done about B'Elanna?"

    "Nothing at the moment, Mr. Paris, but the captain and Tuvok would like to talk to you. I think they have a plan," the Doctor commented. "Would you like me to call them?"

    "Yeah. Yeah, you do that, Doc," Tom muttered as he ran a hand through his hair.

    In a Jefferies tube long abandoned because it went too close to the plasma spills on deck four, B'Elanna Torres sat, making her plans. It was hot in the tube and the air was stifling but none of that bothered her. This B'Elanna Torres wasn't bothered by little discomforts.

    Now she got up and started crawling through the tube. She laughed in her head as she moved towards the warp core.

    Tom was staring blankly ahead of him as both the captain and Tuvok shot question after question at him.

    "Did she give you any clue as to what her plans were?" Tuvok inquired.

    With a sigh, Tom ran a hand through his hair. "I already told you. She didn't tell me anything. She was acting funny, though, not like herself at all. In fact, she reminded me of the time the Vidiians spilt her in two. Her behavior reminded me of her Klingon side."

    Captain Janeway shook her head and glanced at Tuvok. "I don't think there's anything more Lt. Paris could tell us that we don't already know," she said with exasperation.

    "Have you located her yet?" the Doctor questioned.

    "No. Lt. Torres must have rigged something up to block herself from our sensors. Right now she's as invisible from our sensors as a ghost," Tuvok commented.

    "I don't understand. How did all this happen?" Tom's voice drifted over to them.

    "I think we'll leave and let you handle this, Doctor," Janeway muttered as she and Tuvok headed towards Sickbays doors. "Goodbye Lt."

    "Bye Captain, Tuvok," Tom called after them and then turned to the Doctor. "Okay, Doc. Now, what happened?"

    In the darkest, furthest reaches of B'Elanna Torres' mind something stirred. It fought the chains of shadow and lifted its head up to the light. The light was harsh and its eyes blinked a couple of times with the effort of seeing.

    Then the light rolled away like a wave and the eyes saw and understood. They were brown eyes, deep and dark, and what they saw transmitted back to the mind. Slowly, as the mind began to understand it's peril, it became frightened.

    The world of light was overwhelming. It was just too much. So the thing crawled back into the dark, shut it's eyes and went to sleep, a single thought echoing in its ears, "Only the strong survive. Only the strong."

    Back in Sickbay, Tom's blue eyes were wide with shock. The Doctor stood in front of him, looking at the Lt. worriedly. "You're not going to faint are you, Mr. Paris?" he asked.

    "I don't think so. I am lightheaded, however," Tom admitted.

    "That's probably just some after effects of your near strangulation," the Doc commented.

    "I think I'll take a nap, now," Tom said.

    "Yes. That would probably be a good idea," the Doctor murmured as he picked up a medical PADD and started working on something.

    B'Elanna peered through the grate down at the glowing blue brilliance of the warp core. Soon she would take her first step of an intricate and well laid out plan. Soon the first day of her new life would be at her fingertips and there was no way she was going to let that little nagging voice in her head ruin it. No way in hell!