Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

~*~ 1 ~*~

“Oh Chakotay… What am I going to do?” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

His hands slowed their work on her shoulder muscles, then stopped. He had never heard her speak like this.

“What do you mean, Kathryn?” He rested his hands on her shoulders, letting their weight and warmth hold her down.

She reached up one hand to grip his, tightly. She paused for a long time, fighting to find the words.

“All this time, I…” She swallowed hard. “All this time, I’ve had one mission. One goal. Get this crew home. And I never allowed anything to get in the way of that. Nothing could ever be allowed compromise that mission. Every obstacle, ever set-back we encountered—every single time, the momentum carried me through. I could never, ever stop.”

Her voice trailed off, hoarse.

Chakotay dared not move.

He kept perfectly still, standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders, scared to interrupt this rare moment of vulnerable truth. He had never seen Kathryn like this before. She had never allowed him, or anyone for that matter, to see her like this. Afraid, unsure.

Lost.

“And now!” she laughed hoarsely. “And now, here I am, the great Captain Janeway! Utterly defeated by a virus no larger than a few microns. I was trying to figure it out, find a cure, but the storm…!” She threw her hands up in frustration and brought fists down hard on her thighs.

“And the longer we stay here, the further and further Voyager gets away from here, and there is nothing I can do…!” Her shoulders went rigid and her jaw worked as she swallowed a sob.

And then, he finally understood.

He understood her behaviour the last two weeks. Her bright, cheerful air. Her jokes, with a strange sharp edge to them. Her single-minded determination to set up the insect traps, to start the protein analysis. The undercurrent of resentment he had felt when he had made their small hut a little more liveable, or urged her to slow down and enjoy life a little.

He had felt it, but she had never expressed it directly.

Here was a woman with an arrow in her gut. Walking, talking, and working as if there wasn’t. As if she wasn’t bleeding out, as if she wasn’t in desperate pain.

Doing her best to keep going, to move forward, always forward.

To never, ever stop.

But now, the dam had finally broken. Her shoulders curled in as she shook with silent sobs.

“How, Chakotay?” she whispered between gasps. “How am I going to get them home now…?”

He walked beside her and knelt, placing his hand on her knee.

The arrow had to come out. It was the only way she could heal.

He took a quiet breath and steeled himself, ready to inflict the necessary agony.

Gently he said, “You can’t, Kathryn. You can’t get them home.”

~*~*~

She had cried and cried. Loud, wailing cries with heaving sobs, gasping for air, only to be submerged again under the next wave of grief.

He had sat with her, rubbing her back. Then finally, he’d been able to coax her to her bed, supporting her as she hobbled like a casualty of war, her body still shaking with each racking sob.

Once in her bed, he had gathered her into his lap and rocked her like a child. Murmured nonsense words and children’s songs in his language, stroking her hair as she was battered by each new onslaught.

Finally, at some point in the night, she had fallen into deep, exhausted sleep.

He had extricated himself then, and she had curled up into a tight ball around herself.

Outside, the night was cool with a faint breeze. The air smelled of grass and earth and trees. He felt a deep pang of guilt. How could this be so beautiful to him when it was hell on earth for her?

Why was he not as torn up as she was?

He looked around the still, dark forest around them and finally saw this beautiful place as she saw it: A threat. A temptation, to be avoided and conquered and overcome so that she could return to her duty.

Why didn’t he feel the same?

He loved his crew. He loved Voyager. How was it that he could give them up so easily? Trade in his duty for dirt and trees and a flowing river with a glad, joyful heart?

Am I really that heartless?

That selfish?

~*~*~

“Hey,” she said quietly.

He started out of his meditation and opened his eyes to see Kathryn slowly sit down opposite him in the dirt.

He hadn’t really been meditating. More like snoozing. His medicine bundle was still spread out before him, and his back and legs ached from the hours of sitting cross-legged. He must have drifted off at some point.

He couldn’t remember much of what his Spirit Guide had told him. He had asked Her what to do. How to help Kathryn. She had led him down a long, confused dream path that left him feeling exhausted but none the wiser

Thank you… cryptic as always.

Kathryn cleared her throat, awkwardly, and his attention snapped back to her. She looked exhausted, her eyes bruised and swollen. She moved with a fragility he’d never seen in her.

“I’m sorry for… last night,” she said, hesitantly. “I don’t know… I don’t know what came over me, I’m sorry.” She was staring at the ground, avoiding meeting his eyes. “You shouldn’t have had to see me like that.”

He shook his head to negate her apology. “Why, Kathryn?” he asked, gently. “Why not? I don’t think you did anything you should feel sorry for.”

He waited until she glanced up then met her eyes, letting her know that he meant it. “Grief is nothing to be ashamed of.”

She flinched slightly and looked away again. “Grief? Yes… I guess it is grief,” she said quietly. “But we don’t have time for grief. I don’t have time. I have to solve this before Tuvok and the others get too far ahead and—”

“No, Kathryn,” he interrupted her, gently but forcefully. “No. No more of that.” He held her eyes, unflinching and implacable. “You need to face the truth. That is no longer your ship, and they are no longer your crew. You cannot return to them and there is nothing more you can do for them.”

She stared at him for a long time, jaw clenched.

“I see,” she finally said, her voice cold as ice. She paused, staring away angrily at the trees. A cobra, gathering for a strike.

“I see now. I guessed before, and now this confirms it. You are Maquis after all, not Starfleet. The sooner you got away from us, the better!” she spat at him. “Yes, this must be paradise for you! No orders, no command structure, no more Captain you must obey or protocols you have to follow!”

Her voice rose louder and louder. “This is perfect for you, isn’t it Chakotay?! How wonderful! Congratulations! But if you think for one second that I am going to give up on my crew, on my ship, then you are very much mistaken!  With or without you, I’m going to find a cure and I am going to get back to my ship and I am going to get my people home!”

She screamed the last few words at him, fighting for control of her vocal cords against the angry tears that threatened to take them hostage. Then she turned and strode back to the hut, slamming the door behind her.

He sat, totally stunned.

As always, Kathryn had unerring aim. Her knife had hit the dead centre of his guilty heart. The guilt he had been trying to explore all night in his meditation.

Anger rose in him, trying to defend himself from the pain.

How dare she. After everything we’ve been through, after everything I’ve done for her?

I turned myself inside out to make us Maquis into good Starfleet officers for her! I worked so hard to meet her expectations, we all did!

He thumped the ground beside him in frustration. How could she accuse him of not caring? He had shown again and again how dedicated he was, how much serving as her First Officer meant to him.

And yet. And yet?

She is completely right. This is your paradise, Chakotay. You are glad to be here.

With her.

Chapter Text

~*~ 2 ~*~

The following week passed in icy formality. They were both unerringly polite with each other, as they had been in the first few weeks as her First Officer aboard Voyager. They studiously avoided all physical contact and any conversation that was not about immediate facts.

Chakotay thought he might burst with frustration. He had tried to initiate a conversation with her a couple of times, try to clear the air, to create a dialogue and a way forward. But she was as stubborn as ever, stonewalling all his attempts to reach her.

In the end, he had given up, tired and frustrated and hurting deeply.

He began spending more time outside the hut, going on long walks through the countryside to escape the oppressive atmosphere.

Before their argument, he had secretly begun construction of a boat he had designed for her. Even back then, he had hesitated to show her, afraid of the undercurrent of resentment any of his projects seemed to cause in her.

Except the bathtub.

She loved that.

And now… If he showed her now, she would just take it as more proof of what his priorities were, so his drive to finish the project had all but evaporated. When he looked at the half-built keel, all he felt was a deep pang of loss and loneliness.

He’d had secret dreams of taking her on a trip downriver, of warm nights spent camping on the riverbank, smoking fish over a fire, talking, laughing… But that was extremely unlikely to ever happen now.

Lately, he had seen her write in a paper journal, instead of using a padd or terminal to record personal logs. Every time she had noticed him, she had immediately closed it and put it away, a clear sign that she didn’t wish to discuss it.

He couldn’t help but wonder where she had procured paper and a pen from, here of all places? Probably replicated them. Even though they had agreed at the beginning that they would use it only for essential technology, spare parts and medicine.

I guess different rules have always applied for the Captain.

But he pushed that sour thought away because, in the back of his mind, a new idea was already forming.

Could I find some way to create paper?

He would need to look up traditional pulp making techniques, adapt them to work with the local wood. Build a basin and a frame, make glue. Find some way of creating a fine enough net that, when submerged, would catch an even enough surface of fibres…

~*~*~

SD 49701.1

Kathryn,

I noticed that you started writing in a journal by hand, so I made this for you.

The paper is made from the pulp of the local trees. It took me quite a few tries to get a fine enough grade to make it smooth, but I hope this result is acceptable.

The binding and cover are made from tanned fish skin, from those big green beasties in the river.

Kathryn, I don’t know what to say or do anymore.

I’m sorry.

You’re suffering so much and I don’t know how to help. I tried and ended up only making it worse.

I don’t know how to reach you.

I’m going to go on a trip inland for a few days. I think some time apart might do us both good.

I will have my communicator with me, should there be an emergency.

Be safe.

Chakotay

~*~*~

“Janeway to Chakotay,” her voice crackled into the cold dark night.

He started awake, heart pounding, hand immediately tapping his combadge. “Yes, Captain?”

There was a long pause. His mind raced frantically – what could be wrong? His voice became louder as his worry spiked. “Captain, are you hurt? Are you in danger?”

Her response finally came, voice even and steady. “No, Chakotay, I’m fine. I just… I didn’t realise that we were back to Captain.”

Oh. He could kick himself.

“Sorry, Kathryn,” he emphasised her name gently. “Old habits. I… you woke me up, I thought there might be an emergency. Are you… alright?”

Why are you breaking comms silence? his unspoken question trailed behind. They had agreed early to limit their communicator usage to emergencies only, to avoid advertising their presence to any casual passers-by scanning the planet as much as possible.

“Yes, Chakotay, I’m… I’m fine. Well. I mean...” She paused again. “Obviously, I haven’t been fine. But I’m not in danger. I just found your book, that’s all.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know what else do say.

“I just wanted to say… thank you.” After a while, she added quietly, “And I’m sorry, too.”

He was too stunned to speak.

“My behaviour recently has been unspeakably rude. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I have treated you with disdain and coldness. I’m deeply sorry.”

His mind was racing, his heart was pounding, but his tongue simply wouldn’t form any words.

The silence stretched on.

“When… If you come back, Chakotay, I…” she trailed off. Then her voice firmed up. “I’m sorry and I want to talk. I just wanted to tell you that.”

If?

Why would she assume that he wouldn’t come back? He frantically searched his memory for anything he might have done to give her that impression. No, he was sure he had been clear in his letter. A few days.

Then why?

He swallowed to clear his dried throat. “Alright, Kathryn,” he said. “Thank you. I’ll… I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay—” The line fell silent, her voice cut off abruptly. As if to silence a sob.

He sat there, staring into the darkness for a long time. The embers of his near extinguished fire glowed faintly, and the insects chirped their nightly song.

Then he forced himself to sleep. He’d need to be up and going by dawn if he wanted to make it back to the hut by nightfall.

~*~*~

He squinted into the darkness, gale and rain lashing him in the face mercilessly. He tried to keep his footing as best he could, but every few steps he would trip or stumble over some branch or rock. It was slow, torturous going in the dark.

He had lost track of time. He was sure he was only a few minutes away from the hut now, but he’d been sure of that for what felt like an hour. Had he gotten turned around, lost his way?

The computer had forecast clear skies for a week, he’d checked before he set off. Obviously, their plasma storm forecasting algorithm needed more work. He’d have to look at it again.

If you can find your way home!

He gritted his teeth and kept doggedly on, grip tightening on the shoulder straps of his pack to hold it in place against the ripping fingers of the wind.

“Chakotay!”

The call was faint under the howling wind, but definitely there.

“Here!” he yelled. “I’m here!”

A light emerged to his right, dancing through the trees as its holder obviously stumbled and fell several times in their haste to reach him.

Kathryn. She’d gone looking for him.

He suppressed a momentary spike of anger and fear. Why hadn’t she stayed safe in the hut? After the first terrible storm, they had invested a lot of time and resources into storm proofing it as best they could, reinforcing the structure and adding guy ropes to the roof to hold it steady.

“Chakotay! Oh thank goodness, you’re safe!” She called as she stumbled up to him, hair plastered to her face and clutching at her waterproof anorak with one hand to hold it down, torch in the other.

He held up a hand to shield his eyes from its blinding light. “I’m here, I’m fine!” he shouted over the wind to reassured her but couldn’t completely mask his peevish tone. “You didn’t have to come looking for me, why didn’t you stay inside?”

She glanced up at him, a little crestfallen, but then her face hardened into its familiar Captain’s lines. She shouted back, “I needed to know you were safe. Are you alright? Can you walk?”

He nodded. “Yes, yes! I’m fine! Just got a little turned about, is all. Which way back to the hut?”

“This way!” She pointed and grabbed his arm, pulling him along. It was supposed to be a helpful gesture, but it led to both of them stumbling and almost putting them on their knees as Chakotay’s heavy pack overbalanced him into her. She didn’t try again after that.

Finally, the lit-up windows of the hut became visible and a few more minutes’ trudging brought them into its welcome shelter.

He dumped the pack just inside the door and sank down to the ground beside it, water dripping from his soaked hair into his face and eyes. He brushed his hands over his face, exhausted, then forced himself to focused his attention on undoing the water-logged laces of his old-fashioned hiking boots.

A small white towel appeared in his peripheral vision. “Here,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said, glancing up at her. Then he grabbed it and buried his face in it. It was warm.

How did she do that?

He groaned his delight and rubbed his face dry, then went to work on his hair. As he worked, he could hear her busying herself in the kitchen, boiling water.

After he had extricated himself from his boots and his soaked outer layers, he sat quietly at the kitchen table and watched her.

“How did you know to come look for me?” he asked, after a while.

She didn’t look around. “I pinged your combadge. It stopped coming closer two hours hour ago, even though you had been making good progress up to that point. I thought something must be wrong.” She was trying to sound unconcerned and factual.

She pinged my badge. Of course.

Part of him was angry to be put under observation in such a way. It felt intrusive and disrespectful. But another part of him knew that she had been guarding him. Watching to see if he was safe, and ready to spring into action as soon as he needed help.

How very like her.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” he said, eventually. “I got turned around after fording the river, it carried me a bit further down than I realised.”

She did turn, then. Her eyes were wide in disbelief, her voice sharp with anger. “You forded the river? In this weather? Chakotay, that’s unbelievably dangerous! You could have drowned!”

But he didn’t take the offered chance to argue. They had had enough arguments. He simply held her eyes, steady. Unapologetic. “I know.”

She clenched her jaw and took a deep breath, visibly swallowed the angry words she had been marshalling. Then she turned around to finish brewing the tea.

“Are you hungry? Have you eaten?” she asked as she handed him a steaming mug.

He hadn’t. Not a meal, anyway. He had eaten a few ration bars while walking, picked edibles along the way and only stopped to refill his water bottle when the opportunity presented itself.

His stomach answered for him. He looked away, slightly embarrassed. She gave a slight smile. “I see. I’ll warm something up,” she said, then bustled away again.

He sat quietly, sipping his tea and glanced around the hut. It was exactly as he remembered it, although there were slightly more clothes and loose objects laying around than usual. Kathryn was usually impeccably tidy. Even this level of clutter showed how distracted she must have been the past few days.

Then he saw the book. The one he had made from his hand-made paper and bound in fish hides he had painstakingly skinned, cured, and tanned. It was lying open on the foot of her bed. He could see his own handwriting.

“Here you are,” she said with a faint smile. “Fish with miscellaneous greens, as usual. Sorry, the chef has already gone home so there is no à la carte menu tonight.”

He grinned back at her. “I’ll take anything I can get right now, even a bowl of Leola root stew!”

Her smile flickered and died.

Idiot!

Idiot, idiot, idiot!

He cursed himself for bringing up Voyager in such a flippant, thoughtless way.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled and took the plate. Then he focused all his attention on eating, mostly to stop himself from making any more dumb remarks.

After a while, she started hesitantly, “Chakotay…? I—”

He looked up from demolishing his meal and interrupted her gently before she could get too far into what was clearly a prepared speech.

“Kathryn, it’s alright. I know. But not tonight. I’m not fit for anything except sleep right now, and I think you could do with some as well.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiled back woodenly and nodded. “Of course. Get some rest.” Then she turned and to her sleeping alcove, drawing the dividing curtain closed behind her.

“Good night, Kathryn,” he said quietly.

“Good night, Chakotay.”

Chapter Text

~*~ 3 ~*~

She had made breakfast.

Or, tried to, at least.

The porridge was lumpy and a little burnt. Cooking on a wood-fired stove was not easy, and she had obviously struggled more than most.

But she had tried, and the gesture was more than enough compensation for the outcome.

She placed the bowl in front of him, then stood still beside the table, staring fixedly above his head.

“Chakotay, please let me apologise for my behaviour the past two weeks. I’ve been acting irrationally and in an unconstructive way. I’ve refused to talk to you and forced you to carry more than your fair share of our maintenance tasks.” She swallowed hard, then continued.

“Moreover. My behaviour has hurt you personally. You are my fellow officer, close colleague and … someone I consider to be my friend. You were trying to help, you were doing your best to comfort me and offer me a path forward, and I gave you nothing but hostility in return.

“I hope you can accept my sincerest apologies.” She finally met his gaze, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen.

He smiled at her gently. “Kathryn, I’m not an Admiral and this is not a dressing down. You don’t have to stand in front of me like a first year Cadet. Please, sit down.”

“No, it’s not…” she said weakly. “But that made it easier to say.” She hesitated, then sat down opposite him.

He watched her for a few moments, taking in her tired posture, her drawn face. She probably hadn’t slept much at all.

Say something.

He took a deep breath. “Thank you, Kathryn. I accept your apology, but I disagree with your assessment that your actions were irrational. They were entirely consistent with someone in severe emotional distress.”

He looked up at her again, but she wasn’t making eye contact.

“I… can’t say it was easy, and I want to be honest with you that this has left me feeling quite battered and bruised. But I’m willing to try to work this out and find a way forward, if you are.”

She looked at him then, eyes glistening, and nodded.

He cleared his throat and looked away, trying to give her a moment of grace to collect herself.

“I’ve consulted the medical database,” she said after a pause, her tone appearing once again calm and businesslike. “Based on the available diagnostic information and my behaviour, I’ve concluded that my symptoms match those of situational depression linked to grief and loss. Consequently, I’ve synthesised the recommended dosage of daily medication and commenced a self-guided counselling program.”

He stared at her.

She ran a system diagnostic, he thought. She was bleeding out with a metaphorical gut wound, and she still had the wits to diagnose and treat herself.

Then it hit him.

Why didn’t you think of that, you idiot?!

He stifled a groan of frustration. If only he’d thought! But he’d been too caught up in his own misery to think rationally. To preoccupied with avoiding her and retreating into himself.

Stupid, Chakotay! Careless! Selfish!

He clenched his jaw to silence the bitter self-recrimination and worked hard to set his face into a kind, compassionate expression. “That’s wonderful, Kathryn. I’m so glad to hear you’ve found something that helps.”

Unlike you.

Stop it!

She looked up and smiled at him tiredly. “I only wish it hadn’t taken me so long to figure out what was wrong with me. If I had been paying attention, I would have realised that my behaviour was similar to what I experienced back in my youth. Irritability, emotional outbursts, hyperfocus, lack of motivation, pushing people away…” She looked at him and shrugged ruefully. “All the classic symptoms.”

“You’ve had depression before? When?” This was news to him. He couldn’t quite picture it.

“Yes. After my father and J— well, after my father died, I fell into a terrible depression and spent months in bed.”

He waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t, only stared off into space for a while. He kept his mouth shut, unwilling to press her.

After a moment, she shook herself and said, “If Phoebe hadn’t…” She cut herself off again, then started again brightly. “Well, I guess now all that remains is to define the parameters of our relationship going forward.”

He blinked.

“What do you mean by ‘parameters’?” he asked.

“Agreements, boundaries. Planning for what comes next.”

He stared at her, still not quite grasping her meaning.

“For example,” she elaborated, her voice factual as if in a mission briefing, “I will no longer take out my emotions on you, Chakotay. I will treat you with respect and… as my friend. I will continue my counselling program, and I will do my fair share of the maintenance work to keep us housed and fed.”

“Oh,” he said after a moment.

That’s what she meant by ‘relationship’?

Chores?

He had so much to say. So much more than just this. He grasped desperately around for the right words.

“I'm not sure I can ‘define parameters’,” he said slowly.

Think Chakotay, think!

“But…” he said, as a brainwave finally hit him. “But I can tell you a story, an ancient legend among my people. It's about an angry warrior who lived his life in conflict with the rest of his tribe. A man who couldn't find peace, even with the help of his Spirit Guide.”

He found his words flowing again now that he was back on familiar ground.

“For years he struggled with his discontent. The only satisfaction he ever got came when he was in battle. This made him a hero among his tribe, but the warrior still longed for peace within himself.

“One day, he and his war party were captured by a neighbouring tribe led by a woman warrior. She called on him to join her because her tribe was too small and weak to defend itself from all its enemies. The woman warrior was brave, and beautiful. And very wise.” He glanced up at her sitting across the table and gave her a half-smile.

“The angry warrior swore to himself that he would stay by her side, doing whatever he could to make her burden lighter. From that point on, her needs would come first. And in that way, the warrior began to know the true meaning of peace.”

He held her eyes after he had finished, and she returned his gaze. Tears were glistening in her eyes and eventually rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away.

“Is that really an ancient legend?” she asked quietly, after a long moment.

He smiled sheepishly and looked away. “No… but that made it easier to say.”

She reached across the table, past the burnt and entirely forgotten porridge, and took his hand. He looked back at her and swallowed the lump in his throat.

~*~*~

A few days later, they sat at a small fire Chakotay had lit in the firepit he had built on their first day on the planet, before their hut was finished. It was late in the evening, the stars bright overhead.

They sat in companionable silence, letting the chorus of insects and amphibians sing them their monotone song.

She lay on a blanket with a shawl thrown over her shoulders, staring into the flames and writing every now and then in the journal he had made her. After an hour, she got up and returned with some steaming mugs of tea.

“What, no coffee?” he quipped as he accepted his mug, blowing on the liquid to cool it.

“That powered stuff is too awful to drink,” she shrugged, settling herself back in her spot across the flames from him. “The tea at least is potable.”

They lapsed into a companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

“You were right, you know,” he said quietly, after a while.

“I usually am,” she said, grinning. “But what about in particular?”

He smiled a little but didn’t rise to the bait. “What you said a few weeks ago. That this must be paradise for me.” He looked around to indicate what he meant.

She looked down at her hands cradling her mug, looking slightly ashamed.

“No, it’s true,” he said quickly to reassure her. “You were completely right. This…” he gestured to the fire, the trees around them, the starry sky. “In a way, this is all I ever dreamed of.”

She looked back up at him but stayed quiet, listening. Giving him time to find the words.

“I’ve loved serving on Voyager. It felt good to do my duty, to support the crew. To support you. But…” he trailed off, rubbed one hand over his face.

“But Commander, First Officer… that was only ever one part of me. A large one, I grant you, but… all the rest of me, I had to lock away. Because it wasn’t appropriate, because we had to observe protocol. Protocol was the only thing standing between us and anarchy. It was essential for us to keep order, otherwise we would have been lost.”

He took a deep breath, willing himself to go on. To admit what he had guarded so closely in his heart for fear of hurting her.

“In some ways… it has felt like a prison, Kathryn,” he said, looking at her across the fire. Willing her to understand his meaning.

“It wasn’t your fault, or anyone’s fault at all! That’s not what I’m saying. It just… that was the situation we were in, and we all had to make the best of it. I swore to myself that I would serve you. That we would make it home.

“So I threw myself into the work. I took your example and tried to set the same one to the crew. Especially the Maquis. I wanted to prove to you that we could integrate, that we could be valuable members of your crew.

“‘Unrelenting professionalism.’ Your mantra. And it became my mantra too.”

He stared into the fire for a while.

“Is that really how you see me?” she whispered.

He looked back up at her.

“I see a woman who was working desperately hard every single day to hold her ship together. Her crew. To lead us, inspire us, give us hope, give us an anchor after we were cast adrift. You worked night and day, and day and night. And I’ve wanted so desperately to help you.

“So I started doing the same. I locked away all the parts of me that needed to breathe; needed dirt and open sky and fire and stars. I started working more and meditating less. More meetings, less holodeck time. More reports, less conversations.

“I did the bare minimum to keep myself functional, but no more. Instead, I worked.

“And then, suddenly… we were here.” He gestured wryly. “Open sky. Trees. No more shift rosters. No more senior staff meetings, no more protocol. No more Commander. There was dirt under my fingernails! I could breathe again.”

He lapsed into silence once more.

After a while, she said quietly, “I understand, Chakotay. That makes sense.”

He shot her a grateful look. She wasn’t arguing or criticising or refuting. She was listening.

“We are stranded here, yes,” he continued, buoyed by her validation. “We are alone. It is a serious situation. But that doesn’t change the fact that here, I feel an overwhelming sense of freedom. Of possibility!” He gestured again broadly at all the world around them. “There is so much here to do! Build, see, explore!”

He paused and breathed deeply, willing his enthusiasm back under control.

“I feel so guilty. I feel completely heartless, to feel so much joy when you are in so much pain, Kathryn. Here I am brimming with excitement and wonder and joy, but you… you’re suffering.

“Where Voyager has been my prison, this is yours. Being here is preventing you from doing the things you needed to do, the things which are most at the core of you. Leading. Serving. Protecting your people.”

He glanced across at her and found her dark eyes staring at him across the flames, her full attention centred on him. He stared back at her a moment, then dropped his eyes again and forced himself to continue.

“After that night you broke down, I meditated the whole night, trying to find a way to help you. I thought maybe after expressing your grief, you might be ready for acceptance. That’s why I pushed you so hard. But I was wrong. I tried to help, but in doing so I hurt you even more deeply. And for that I’m so sorry.”

The silence stretched between them, as he stared into the fire, wondering how she would react. Waiting for her to lash out again. But she was silent for a while.

Then she got up walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

He hesitated, then put his arms around her and hugged her back.

“Thank you, Chakotay,” she said, finally, voice muffled against his shirt. “Thank you for telling me. And I’m sorry, too.”

After a long moment, she pulled back and sat down next to him, knees touching.

“I didn’t realise how much you were suffering on Voyager,” she said quietly, staring at the fire. “How much my own habits were affecting you. What a poor example I must have been setting for the crew. I should have realised…!” she said, frustration starting to show in her voice, but then she shook her head and took a deep breath. “But I didn’t.”

He started to reassure her, to say that he hadn’t meant to criticise her, but she cut him off.

“—It’s alright, Chakotay. It’s true and I accept responsibility.” She paused, staring into the flames. “My counsellor back at the Academy would have said it was a classic trauma response. Rigidity, over-reliance on rules and protocol. An attempt to impose control on to an out-of-control situation.” She smiled faintly.

“Yes, well… I think a Starfleet counsellor would have a field day with both of us, the state we’re in,” he said drily, grinning down at her.

She grinned back ruefully. Then, on impulse, she leant forward and kissed him.

Her hand lightly touched his cheek, her lips soft velvet on his own.

He was so stunned at first, he didn’t react. Then his instincts kicked in and he kissed her back. Slowly, savouring the sensations. Drinking in her soft lips, their warmth.

Stop this.

She broke the kiss and let out a small breath, looking into his eyes. Waiting for more.

Stop this.

NOW!

“Kathryn.” He said her name hoarsely, still tasting her lips.

He brought his hands up to grip her arms and clenched his eyes shut, willing himself to stop. To calm the desire that screamed at him to do it, give in, do it, have her, take her, be with her!

“I can’t do this.” He looked back at her, beseeching. “Please don’t do this.”

She frowned, taken aback.

“If we do this here, now…” He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. “There is a high probability that you will regret it in the morning.”

“But… Chakotay, isn’t this what you want?” She sounded hurt and confused. “Didn’t you want me to accept the situation? And doesn’t accepting the situation mean…” She gestured vaguely to him, then to herself.

He cut her off. “—No! No, that is not what I meant at all.”

Liar.

“I mean,” he corrected himself hastily, “This—,” he gestured between himself and her, as she had. “This is what I want. What I’ve wanted for a long time.

“But I don’t think it’s what you want. If you’re only doing it because you think it’s inevitable, then… then I don’t want that.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his hammering heart and desperately groped around for the right words.

“I don’t think you are doing this because of… well, me. I think you’re doing this because you’re hurting, you’re lonely, you’re grieving. You’re feeling lost and you miss Voyager, miss the crew. And it makes complete sense to seek comfort when you’re in pain. But…”

She stared at him. “You don’t trust my judgment. You don’t think I’m thinking clearly,” she said flatly.

He took another deep breath.

“If I’m right, and we do this now, for those reasons, then it’s very likely that you will regret it later. And even worse, you might resent me for taking advantage of you when you were so vulnerable. And I…” he swallowed, “I just couldn’t bear that, Kathryn.”

He got up and stepped away before she could say anything more. Before he could lean back down and envelop her in his arms, kiss her and kiss her again and—

“If you… if still feel this way in a few days,” he said as he looked down at her, willing her to understand. “When the sun is up and you’ve slept on it. Really, really thought it over. Then…” He shrugged and gestured wryly to their hut. “You know where to find me.”

Then he turned and marched himself into the hut before he could think better of it.

Chapter Text

~*~ 4 ~*~

She seemed more cheerful, the past few days.

After their kiss by the fire and his spectacularly awkward refusal, he had feared she might return to her icy coldness.

But instead, she had carried on as if nothing had happened. Granted, she was still very quiet, spending many hours by herself reading, working on the console, or writing in her journal. But he could sense a slow return to her cheerful self. She talked to him more, laughed at his jokes, made some herself.

It still wasn’t like having the old Kathryn back. But there were definitely glimpses of her.

One morning at breakfast, he said, “I think I’m going to check on the boat today.”

“The boat?” she exclaimed. “Since when is there a boat?”

Only then he remembered belatedly that he had never told her that he’d started building it.

He glanced away, embarrassed. “Oh. Yes, I’m sorry. I… I started building it as a secret for you, but then… You know.” He gestured vaguely to indicate the period of time they hadn’t been speaking.

She glanced down at her hands as well. “Oh. Yes, I see. You didn’t feel you could tell me?”

“You were so angry with me, Kathryn. I thought this would make it worse.”

She nodded quietly. “Yes… it probably would have. You were right to not tell me.”

The pause between them stretched until he gave himself a mental shove.

“I’d really like to show it to you today, if you’d like to see it? I think you’re really going to like the design. I added some modifications to make it more stable for river transport,” he said, giving her his best encouraging grin.

She smiled back. A small, grateful smile.

After breakfast, they walked down to the riverbank in companionable silence, only exchanging a few words every now and then to warn each other of treacherous footing or remark on some natural feature or other.

He breathed deeply, soaking in the fresh morning air. It was getting decidedly hotter throughout the day now, but the mornings were still cool and refreshing. Summer was on its way.

Perfect time for a boat.

“Oh, Chakotay! Look, you’ve built a whole shed! I had no idea,” Kathryn exclaimed beside him as they rounded the final corner and his makeshift workshop came into view.

He grinned at her, more than a little bit proud. It wasn’t much, a three-sided lean-to made of logs and rough wooden planks. But it was enough to keep the rain off after he’d lined the roof with waterproof tarpaulin, and he had braced it against the storms with ropes and sturdy poles on all sides.

She walked around it, eyes glittering and examining every detail. “This must have taken you weeks!”

“A week, certainly. The phaser and tools Voyager left us definitely helped. And…” He trailed off, unsure whether to finish the sentence, but then decided for full honesty, “and also I had a lot of frustrated energy to burn.” He smiled at her to take the sting out of his words, to show he held no resentment.

She smiled back ruefully. “I guess then my histrionics had some positive outcomes after all,” she quipped and returned to her examination of his construction skills.

For the next 20 minutes, she peppered him with technical questions about his design and choice of materials, and suggested several alterations and additions.

He took this in his stride, well used to this part of her. She never meant it personally, she just delighted in design and engineering. And even though her skills were more in the field of warp theory and molecular engineering than with hammer and saw, her suggestions were insightful and made sense.

To see her this animated, this engaged and focused again brought him an immeasurable sense of joy.

As she was examining the design schematics on a padd, he pulled back the tarp covering the skeleton keel of the boat and set out a few round logs in front of it. Then he pushed with all his might and rolled the ungainly thing out from under the roof a good metre on to the beach.

She looked up in surprise and strode over to examine the keel.

“You’ve already started construction?” she said, delightedly.

More interrogation followed. He showed her all his tools and spread them on a waterproof tarp on the sand, and then simply sat and watched her, smiling to himself as she circled around the keel several times, matching the wooden structure to the design schematics. Waiting for her verdict.

“This is good, Chakotay,” she said, still looking down at the pad. “Your design is a lot more complex than a simple hollow log canoe, but I think the increased time and effort required for construction will pay off with manoeuvrability and speed down the track. The outrigger is a good idea too. The survey Harry did for us indicated that the river has some rapids further downstream…”

She trailed off, and looked away sadly, no doubt thinking of Harry. Then she looked back at him and realised he was watching her. “What…?” she asked, with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“I’m glad the design meets with your approval, Captain,” he said with mock-formality.

The smile on her face flickered for a moment, sadness still in her eyes. Then she straightened and nodded with equal formality. “Yes. Very good, Commander. We should begin construction immediately. I’ll have B’Elanna send a team down to assist.”

He barked a laugh. “Then we’ll be waiting a long time!” He bent and picked up the hand plane, throwing it to her in one smooth movement. She caught it with a squawk of protest, then laughed. “There’s no way around this for you, Captain. You’re going to have to be hands-on with this one.”

Her spent the next two hours teaching her the basics of wood working, demonstrating each action, and guiding her movements until the results were acceptable. It was clear she had never done anything like this before, and though she had a good level of fitness, she lacked a lot of the arm strength required. But she learnt quickly and had an exceptional eye for detail.

They made steady progress, until the sun stood high in the sky and the heat was starting to get to them.

He suddenly realised how thirsty he was. Picking up the water canister he’d brought down with them, he chugged a good quantity of water and then brought it over to her. She took it gratefully but struggled with the wide opening, pouring a good amount of water down her front as she drank.

“I’m soaked!” she spluttered, laughing and patting at her shirt front ineffectually.

A split-second thought possessed him, and he acted before he could think better of it.

“Not yet, you’re not!” he yelled and threw her over his shoulder in one swoop.

“Wha— No! Chakotay! Stop it! No!” she screamed and pounded her fists against him in protest, but he was undeterred and marched them straight into the water.

Once it was up to his waist, he simply dropped to his knees, dumping them both underwater.

She fought free of him, kicking his torso none too gently a few times with her knees and feet as she did.

That’ll bruise tomorrow. But so worth it.

He surfaced and rubbed the water out of his eyes, grinning at her. She was pawing at her face, trying to push away the wild strands of hair plastered there.

“You—!!!” she growled with outrage as she fixed him with a murderous expression, then lunged forward so quickly that it caught him completely off-guard. Lucky for him, her forward momentum was hampered significantly by her soaked, heavy clothes, and she fell short of the leverage needed to push him under. She submerged again instead, and he laughed triumphantly.

Then he felt something grip his ankles and pull mightily, making over backwards inelegantly while rotoring his arms wildly. The river water gushed up his nose as he fell in.

Some frantic and inexpert underwater wrestling ensured, and finally he regained his footing enough to stand up. He came up spluttering, now just as outraged as she had been a minute earlier.

She emerged next to him, and when he had rubbed enough water out of his eyes to see her face, it was as serious and battle-ready as he had ever seen it on the bridge. She was watching him fiercely, strategising, predicting his next move, already thinking of countermoves.

He started laughing. He couldn’t help himself.

Somehow, in that moment, the entire ridiculousness of the situation hit him square in the face.

Here they were. In this place. After everything they’d been through. Tuvok, a sleeper agent in his crew. The Caretaker, getting stranded in the Delta quadrant. The virus. It had all somehow ended up here, with them wrestling fully clothed in a river, water stinging in his nose.

A great, cosmic joke.

He laughed and laughed. He couldn’t stop. She giggled, then laughed, too. Most probably at him, but he didn’t care.

They stood for long minutes, helpless in their laughter. Each time they tried to stop, one of them would set them off again and they would succumb for another round.

Finally, the tide of mirth ebbed and he tried to breathe. She was sloshing towards the shore and he followed. They fell on to the sand, exhausted and wrung out.

“Oh Gods…” he heaved, breathing deep into the stinging stitch in his side. “I haven’t laughed like that in… in years. I can’t even remember. Probably back home somewhere.”

He looked over to where she was laying flat on her back in the sand, eyes closed, breathing deeply into her belly. He smiled and let himself fall back into the sand next to her.

They lay there a while in silence, eyes closed, listening to the birds and the river quietly flowing by.

Then, he felt her take his hand.

He froze and held his breath for an instant, then forced himself to resume his deep breathing.

“Chakotay…” she murmured, quietly.

He didn’t open his eyes. He made no move at all. “Hmm?”

“I…” she hesitated. “I thought about what you said. The other night.”

He’d said a lot of things, all of them awkward. He felt his face flush and his stomach start to churn.

“About… You said that if I thought about it, and still wanted to… you know. That I would know where to find you.”

Ah.

“Hmm.” He didn’t trust himself to speak.

He felt her fingers squeeze his own. “Well, I’ve thought about it… and I really want to.”

He felt her move and opened his eyes to see her propped up on her hands, looking down at him.

He opened his mouth to speak, found it completely dry. Swallowed, tried again. “You want what, Kathryn?”

She smiled at him. “You, Chakotay. All of this.” She looked at him, then deliberately all around, taking in the sky, the river, the trees. “I want this. Not because I miss Voyager or the crew, or because I feel depressed and lost.”

She looked back at him, directly into his eyes. “I want this because I like it. It makes my heart glad. It feels… good. And I won’t regret it.”

He held her gaze, staring back into her eyes. Willing himself to hear the words.

Believe them. Convince himself it wasn’t a dream.

After a moment, she dropped his gaze, slightly embarrassed and confused by his silence. “Is that good enough?” she asked, quietly.

Fool. Say something!

“Yes, Kathryn. That is good enough.”

Her smile, when it came, was radiant.

Chapter Text

~*~ 5 ~*~

They were like awkward teenagers. Excited and eager, but shy and desperately wanting to appear relaxed and unconcerned. Hyper-aware of each other’s every movement, every accidental brushing touch.

He had let her shower first, to wash off the river water and sand. In the meantime, he stripped to his underwear and rinsed their clothes, then hung up them up to dry. Then he returned to the hut and stood staring at the partition separating their beds in the sleeping alcove.

Should he get rid of it now and push their beds together? Would that be too much, too soon? Would he be making some kind of statement? Would she resent him for moving too quickly?

He was still standing there in contemplation when she emerged, wrapped in a towel and rubbing her wet hair with a second.

“Report, Commander,” she said in her command voice, as he started and turned towards her.

He blinked, then realised what she was doing. Reverting into their old roles, making them feel more comfortable by repeating a well-known pattern.

He stood at attention and put on his most crisp bridge voice. “Forward scans indicate an obstruction on our current heading, Captain. We could use the tractor beam to move it out of the way, or plot an alternative course.”

She glanced up at him, then at the partitioned alcove. “Ah yes, I see the problem.” Did she smother a grin? “I’ll consider both options Commander, thank you. You are to report for decontamination protocol in the sonic showers. What is your estimated time for completion?”

“No more than 10 minutes, Captain,” he grinned.

She finally grinned back. “I want it done in five. Get to it!”

He nodded curtly and marched himself off to wash. In the shower, he stripped quickly and got to soaping up, fumbling with the soap and shampoo and knocking them over in his haste.

As he finished rinsing and turned off the water, he heard something scraping across the floorboards next door.

She’s done it.

The adrenaline rush from his gut up to his chest was a visceral, physical sensation. Blood thumped in his ears and his groin. He towelled off as fast as he could, then threw the towel around his waist. He was about to rush out of the bathroom when he came to his senses.

What are you doing, Chakotay?

Breathe.

Breathe!

He gripped the door frame, hard, and forced himself to inhale deeply. He closed his eyes and called upon his Spirit Guide. Or really, any Gods or Spirits within this forsaken quadrant of the galaxy that would hear his plea.

Please, don’t let me mess this up.

He took another deep, steadying breath, then stepped through the door back into their living space.

The partition was pushed up against the far wall, banished like some unwanted relative. She had pulled both beds together into a large one and spread their blankets to cover it. Arranged their pillows against the headboards he had made.

Definitely a statement.

She sat at the foot of their newly enlarged bed, watching him calmly, still wrapped in her towel. When he hesitated, she smiled at him.

He smiled back and walked over, sitting down next to her on the bed. Trying hard to shield his erection from obvious view, but sure that he was failing miserably.

“Reporting for duty, Captain,” he quipped to cover his nervousness.

She said nothing, instead covering his mouth with hers.

He caught her kiss, his hand automatically lifting to cup her face. Leaned into it and kissed her back with all the pent-up emotion of the past eight weeks.

Their tongues explored each other, darted in and out of each other’s mouths. His heart was hammering in his chest and his brain had gone completely blank from shock.

This is happening.

She is kissing me. I’m kissing her.

Kathryn.

He broke the kiss and breathed her name out loud. “Kathryn. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispered hoarsely.

She pulled back slightly and peered into his eyes with a sly smile. “Oh, you will find I do have some idea. Probably only slightly longer than I’ve wanted to, myself.”

He returned her smile, then dived back to meet her, searching out her mouth again. Her soft, velvety, warm, wondrous mouth.

He forced himself to slow down, to focus on the sensation and savour every second. He kissed her bottom lip, then her top, nibbled and brushed his tongue over each corner of her mouth. Exploring, tasting.

His hands roamed over her shoulders, tangled in her lustrous hair, traced down her neck and up her spine. She hummed her pleasure, a small sound which filled him such with fire. His erection was straining and pulsing under the towel, most surely visible in every detail now, but he didn’t give a damn anymore.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her hand brush against it lightly. He broke the kiss with a sharp expelled breath which almost was a moan. A mischievous grin spread on her face when she saw his reaction. Then she ran her nails slowly and deliberately upwards along the length of his shaft, scratching against the fabric of the towel.

This time, he did moan. He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head back, fighting for control. Everything in his was screaming to grab her, manhandle her into position, pin her and take her— now, now, right NOW!

But he didn’t give in. He had learnt from bitter, difficult experience as a young man that his passion, when unleashed and uncontrolled, could have very bad consequences. He had sworn to himself that he would never allow himself to ever hurt another woman with his lack of control.

He dragged in long, heavy breaths, head still thrown back and eyes still shut. Fighting hard to come back to his body, his breathing. Come back to the present moment.

“Chakotay…?” she whispered. “Are you… alright? What’s wrong?” She sounded so gentle.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her face, which was drawn into a small frown. He laughed, feeling suddenly sheepish. “Yes…! Yes, Kathryn, I am absolutely fine. More than fine. More fine than I have been in a long, long time.”

“So… what just happened there? Your breathing… and your body went all tense. Are you in pain?”

“No,” he laughed again, awkwardly, “I just… I’m trying to stay… calm, Kathryn. So that I don’t…” he trailed off and gave her body a meaningful look up and down.

She grinned and finished for him, “So that you don’t throw me down and ravage me immediately?”

“Yes, exactly that,” he laughed more freely now, feeling easier now she was sharing the joke.

“But… why don’t you?”

He blinked.

“What?” he asked, dumbly.

“Why don’t you just grab me and throw me down and have your wicked way with me?”

He stared at her for a moment, trying to process the words coming out of her mouth.

Finally, he spluttered, “So that I don’t hurt you? Because it’s wrong and not how things should be done?”

How could she not know this?

“Because making love to a woman, any woman—you! especially you— you deserve care and patience and all the time in the world to be explored and pleasured and…” He trailed off, realising that his face was feeling warm. He was blushing.

Oh Gods!

Oh, sweet merciful Gods, what on earth is happening?

Why am I explaining foreplay to this woman? This luscious, ravishing, gorgeous, beautiful woman?

This was not at all how he had pictured this going in his dreams.

She grinned at his chagrin and placed a hand on his bare chest, cool fingers on his hot, flushed skin.

“Chakotay,” she said gently. “I am more than certain that you are a fine lover, dedicated and patient and extremely skilled. But there will be time enough for that later. Right now, I don’t think either of us has the patience for it. I certainly don’t,” she said, her grin becoming wider and impish.

“So, I ask again. Why don’t you?”

He stared at her for a moment while her words sunk in.

Then he gripped both her wrists in his own hands and pushed her backwards on the bed, pinning them down above her head as he sank his teeth into the soft flesh where her neck met her shoulder.

Gods help him, he even growled.

His bite became sucking, licking, hungry kisses up and down the side of her neck, from her hairline down to her collarbones. She moaned beneath him and arched her back, craning her head aside to give him access.

Her response only made him bolder. He released his grip on her wrists and turned fully on her, his towel sliding forgotten down to the floor as he knelt, knees either side of her hips.

He paused for a moment to drink her in. She stared back at him, face flushed, breathing hard, the skin on the side of her neck red and starting to bruise.

“Chakotay,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please…” She held her hands out towards him.

Hearing her plea lit him on fire.

So many times, oh Spirits… So many times, he had dreamed, hoped, fantasised about her, about this.

She wants you.

She WANTS you.

She wants YOU.

He dove back down to meet her, her frantic hands tangling in his hair, and he kissed her mouth, her throat, cupped her breasts roughly with his hands and sucked her nipples with abandon. Her breath became gasps, alternating with louder and louder moans. Her legs wrapped around his torso, briefly squeezing the air out of his lungs in a huff.

An iron grip in his hair forced his head to her face, and she snarled into his ear, “Chakotay, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to—”

He cut her off by wrapping one hand around her throat, while the other found her folds and forced their way in. Her eyes opened wide, and her mouth fell open with a small, stifled cry.

She was soaking wet.

In one movement, he let go of her throat, grabbed her hips and pulled her into position, positioned himself at her entrance and pushed inside.

Her wordless cry overlay his own, and he had to clench his eyes shut to not be completely overcome.

Then, her hips started to move. They bucked and undulated, and he opened his eyes to see her head thrown back and eyes screwed tightly shut, white knuckled hands gripping the bedsheets while she fucked herself on him.

For a long moment, all he could do was breathe, completely stunned by the sight.

Her eyes flew open, deep violet blue, catching his gaze.

Her look seared his soul.

The fierceness in her eyes. The raw, daring, wanton lust. The power. She was commanding him to obey her. Bending him to her will.

As always.

He gave her a feral grin. Then he bent down to her and went to work.

~*~*~

They lasted less than five minutes.

Kathryn surrendered first, her voice raised into a continuous wail as she rode the waves of her orgasm while he pounded into her cervix again and again.

Chakotay could feel her muscles contact around him and finally let himself fall over the edge after her with an almighty groan.

They held completely still for a long moment, both with eyes closed and breathing hard, listening to the aftershocks. Her legs twitched involuntarily, and he could feel the muscles spasm deep inside her.

Eventually, he tried to slip out of her and disentangle himself, but she shuddered and used her legs to grip him in a vice. Captured and unable to move, he slowly lowered himself down until he was lying on top of her, forearms still holding some of his weight.

“All of you,” she mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“Lay down. Give me all of you.”

Her arms crept around his shoulders and pulled him down hard. With a slight ‘oof’, he let himself collapse all the way down, his face coming to rest above her right shoulder.

She turned her face into his hair and her arms and legs tightened around his body, holding him close.

“Perfect,” she sighed.

He smiled faintly. For a moment, he stopped worrying about crushing her with his whole weight and just let himself be held.

Eventually, he surfaced again when he felt himself slip out of her. There was a lot of liquid.

“Oh Gods,” he said, slightly dismayed and rolled off her.

“Mmmhno!” she mumbled sleepily, reaching for him with eyes closed.

Casting around, he located his towel where it has landed on the ground. He bundled it between her legs, mopping up the puddle of their fluids before all of it could soak into the sheets.

“I made a mess,” she giggled.

He smiled and kissed her forehead, then slid his arm under her head and gathered her into him.

“We both did,” he whispered.

She grinned lazily and kissed him slowly. He returned the kiss just as slowly.

For a time, they just lay there, lost in the timeless haze of delicious sexual exhaustion.

Outside, the sun began to set and the light faded from gold to pink to grey.

Kathryn shivered suddenly, and Chakotay realised that the cabin had become chilly.

Sunset already?

We must’ve slept for hours.

He looked down and saw her peacefully asleep. Her face looked as relaxed and happy as he had ever seen it. Probably more so. He smiled softly to himself and gently extracted his arm from under her head.

She mumbled something in her sleep and turned on to her side, and he pulled up a blanket to cover her naked form.

Then he found some clothes and went outside to light the fire.

He’d just gotten a merry little blaze started when he heard her emerge from the hut. He turned to see her still naked, wrapped only in a sheet from their bed.

“Hey,” she said in a low voice.

“Hey to you, too,” he smiled, unashamedly staring at her beauty.

“I’m hungry. Do you want anything?” She grinned back at him. “There’s fish and greens. Or we also have fish and greens.”

“Actually,” he said smugly, “I’ve just spitted two fish to grill over the fire, and I’m planning to roast some of the root vegetables Neelix left us. Maybe even replicate some butter to melt over them.”

“Mmmmh… Sounds perfect. You’re too good to me, Chakotay,” Kathryn sighed. “I’ll go shower and get dressed then.”

“Not too dressed!” he protested, grinning.

She threw him a wink over her naked shoulder as she disappeared back inside.

Dinner was delicious, if he did say so himself. They sat in front of the fire and feasted, eating with their hands and licking butter off their fingers.

Kathryn had come back wearing one of his shirts, held closed with only one button. The light linen fabric clung to her curves and the wide neckline fell off her shoulder almost immediately. She made no attempt to return it to its proper place. She had left her damp auburn hair loose and unbound, and it curled wildly as it dried by the warmth of the fire.

He had to pull himself away from staring at her more than once. She looked like a renaissance painting.

They said little as they ate, the silence between them as sated and contented as two well-fed cats.

When he made to clear away the remains of their dinner, she protested that he’d cooked dinner so it was only right she should do the dishes. He laughed and surrendered, then watched her as she walked in and out with the plates and platters. She finally returned with their customary two mugs of steaming tea.

He made space for her on the blanket and she sank down beside him, placing the tea off to one side to cool. “Too hot to drink,” she murmured, then let her head fall into his lap and closed her eyes contentedly.

He brushed his fingers through her hair, carding out each strand carefully and smiling to her repeated purrs of delight.

He grinned down at her as she opened her eyes, a dark violet blue in the firelight. Then she said, “So… that happened.”

Oh, had it ever. And his world would never be the same.

He was slightly surprised by how calm and relaxed he felt. “Yeah, it did. Do you regret it?”

“No,” she said, smiling broadly. “Not one bit. You?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life,” he said, smiling back down at her. Then he leant down and kissed her.

Their kisses were slow and lazy at first, content to savour each other’s tastes and textures. Her hands roamed over his arms, his shoulders, his neck.

Then she levered herself up out of his lap and stood up, grinning wickedly. “I believe I was promised a dedicated, patient and extremely skilled lover?”

He laughed. “Oh, I think those were your words, not mine! But I’m willing to see how my efforts measure up against your exacting standards,” he said, getting up. The tent in his loose linen slacks was incredibly obvious but he didn’t care.

Her grin widened and, grabbing hold of his wrist, she marched them into the hut.

That night, Chakotay thanked the Spirits a thousand times over that they were on a deserted planet with no company but the local wildlife, instead of back on Voyager with its un-soundproofed, nay positively resonant, bulkheads.

Because apparently his skills did pass muster.

As did hers.

Chapter Text

~*~ 6 ~*~

They sat on the riverbank one late afternoon, soaking up the sun. Kathryn occasionally wrote in her journal and Chakotay just lay in the grass, with his copy of Maya Archaeology and Ethnohistory covering his face as he dozed and listened to the wind in the trees.

He felt completely at peace.

Below them, the river rolled quietly onwards to its far-off ocean home.

After she put her pen down and sighed for the second time, he asked, eyes still closed, “How goes the magnum opus?”

“Difficult,” she groaned. She hesitated, clearly weighing up whether to share anything more.

He didn’t ask. It was her private process. If she wanted to share, he would listen. If she didn’t, he was content with that.

“I’ve been pondering the subject of identity,” she said finally.

“Oh? And how do you define identity?” he asked lazily.

Despite his nonchalant tone, he was very interested. He had done a lot of thinking about his identity himself as a young man, wrestling with his heritage and his ambitions to join Starfleet.

And more recently, too—after finding himself no longer a Maquis and instead joining a certain Captain’s crew.

“Identity is the sum of all characteristics determining who or what a person or thing is,” she said promptly, as if answering an exam question.

He smirked and raised the book off his head to look at her. “Very good, Lieutenant Tuvok. And what does Kathryn think?”

She grinned sheepishly and shook her head, conceding the point. Then she looked down at the pages of her notebook again, crammed tightly with her small, neat handwriting. Stared at them for long moments, lost in thought.

Chakotay sat up and looked at her, but said nothing. Let her find the words she obviously needed to say.

“Being here… being separated from Voyager, all this has forced me to ask the question, ‘Who am I?’

“If I’m no longer ‘Captain Janeway of the starship Voyager’,” she imitated herself grinning, “Then who am I?”

She gestured around them, to the river and the treeline. “Being here has stripped me of the one thing I’ve always been certain of. My career.”

She laughed, oddly embarrassed. “I built my whole life on Starfleet. When they recommended me to command track, it felt so… right. I thought, ‘Yes, this is who I am meant to be!’ I invested everything I had into being the best officer. Then the best Commander. Then the best Captain. Every posting I received, I threw myself into without hesitation or reservation. Always totally committed. This has been my identity for as long as I can remember.”

Chakotay watched her face, the far away look in her eyes as she gazed unseeingly at the water flowing past below them.

“And now?” he prompted gently.

“And now, I’ve been stripped of all that,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. But Chakotay could hear the brittleness in her tone. “I’ve had to confront that. Come to terms with how powerless I feel all of a sudden.  How… rudderless. Without purpose.”

She threw him a glance to see his reaction to her words, and he nodded. “That makes complete sense, Kathryn. Especially given what we’ve been through the past three years.”

She smiled sadly at him. “And now, I have to find who I am, without a command structure. Without all the certainty…” She gestured to the journal laying open in front of her. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out in my head all this time.”

“Ah, so you’re not writing me up for gross insubordination and recommending an immediate court martial when we get back…?” He grinned.

Kathryn snorted. “Don’t test me, I might yet!” She pushed him and he caught her wrists and let himself topple over into the grass, taking her with him. She squealed and tried to fight free, but he held on to her and kissed her thoroughly.

Eventually, they came up for air, panting and grinning like teenagers.

She pushed herself away from him, pushing the hair out of her face. “Chakotay, stop that!” she said in mock rage. “I’m trying to have a serious, thoughtful conversation here and your libido is ruining the moment!”

He laughed and sat up again, holding up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry! I thought the mood needed lightening. But please, go right ahead with your deep, dark revelations.”

She shot him a look through narrowed eyes, then huffed a sigh and tried to compose herself.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… what I’ve trying to say all this time is, you’re right.”

“Well, now I know you’re lying. Who are you and what have you done with Captain Janeway?!”

“Chakotay!”

He choked down his laughter and held up a hand again, pasting a serious expression on his face. “I know, I know. Sorry.”

She took a deep breath, then sighed. “Well, anyway. I thought about what you said, before… that the ‘Commander’ was only ever just one part of you. And so I’ve been looking for the other parts of myself. The parts of me that have been in the background for so long… Who am I? And, more importantly, who do I want to be?”

He nodded and waited, leaving space for her to continue. When she didn’t, he said “Both very valid questions. Any ideas?”

“Well…” Her hands picked at the grass absentmindedly. “I used to love art. Painting. Sculpture. Languages! Music, theatre. Ballet!”

Chakotay laughed. “Ballet? No, you can’t be serious.”

Kathryn threw him a haughty look. “I’ll have you know that I dance a very passable Dying Swan, thank you very much!”

He stared at her in disbelief for a moment, then shook his head. “I have to see that one day. Molecular biology, astrophysics and ballet… Who would’ve thought you’re such a Renaissance Woman?”

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Well, come to think of it, my last performance was almost 20 years ago now. Same with my last tennis match.”

She grew serious again.

“Once I got into command training, I was just always too busy to keep it up. Never enough time. So I just focused on work and let everything else die off. All my hobbies. All my friendships outside work.” She shook her head sadly. “The only thing left was Mollie. Mark and Mollie. A man and a dog, that was my entire social life!” She tried to make it a joke, but it rang hollow.

“Poor Mark… I’m not surprised he was worried for me. He often asked me to take time off, take a break. Spend time with him.” She shook her head sadly. “I promised him I would, just as soon as this mission in the Badlands was done...” She swallowed and looked up, eyes glistening with tears.

“And now, sitting here, all I can ask myself is Why? I had so much back then, why did I shut it all out?”

Chakotay silently took her hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back and tried to smile.

“All I can think of is, that it felt safe. My career has always been something I’ve felt confident in. Felt in charge of, in control. It was hard, yes – challenging, even! But I could always puzzle it out, with science and logic and reason. But it was quantifiable, classifiable, controllable…

So, I shut everything else away, all those other parts of me. And nobody ever asked me about them. Nobody ever asked me to be more than I was, because I made sure to be brilliant at everything I did. They just looked at me and said, ‘Wow! She’s so smart! So capable!’ They loved me for it. And nobody ever forced me to confront my fears, to be vulnerable, to feel anything!” She looked at him and this time, two tears did spill from her eyes.

“Until you.”

Chakotay held her eyes, doing his best to give her a sense of warmth and comfort. “Not even Mark?” he asked, quietly.

She pressed shut her eyes and shook her head, wiping away the tears.

“Oh, he tried. He tried to make me face it. But I always managed avoid him, to be away on another mission, have another important briefing, another project… And in the end, he gave up. Accepted things as they were. Bless him.” She shook her head again, then said bitterly, “I don’t think our relationship would have lasted, otherwise. I don’t like to be pushed.”

“I’ve noticed,” Chakotay said, wryly. She smiled back sadly, then let herself fall into his shoulder dejectedly. He threw his arm around her shoulders and hugged her close.

“You know… When you joined Voyager and became my First Officer, I… forced myself to only see one part of you. The Commander. Because seeing anything more felt too dangerous. Uncontrollable. Risky. Too tempting. Too much. I was afraid that if ever I let my guard down and kissed you, I’d never be able to stop kissing you. That I would lose control of myself. And worse, lose control of Voyager.

“And I couldn’t let that happen. Voyager and the crew have to be my first priority, always. I got them into this mess, it’s my responsibility to get them out again.” She caught herself, corrected, “—Was my responsibility. Was.”

“I know, Kathryn. Even though I don’t think it’s your fault that we ended up stranded in the Delta quadrant, I know that you’ve been carrying that burden all this time. I wish you would stop blaming yourself for what happened. But I understand. I understood back then, and I understand now.” He squeezed her shoulders and kissed the top of her head reassuringly. Then said quietly, “I’m just glad that I get to kiss you now.”

She didn’t say anything, just hugged him back.

They sat together silently, lost in their own thoughts, holding each other for a long time.

The sun began to dip beyond the trees and the temperature cooled. Kathryn shivered and he squeezed her shoulders once more, then said, “We should get back to the hut before it gets too dark. I didn’t bring a torch.”

He got up, then reached down a hand to help her up. She looked at it for a moment, then deliberately took it and let him pull her up.

As they walked back along the path to their cabin, Chakotay said quietly, “You know… I think there’s a lot more sides to you than just Captain Janeway. And I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Me too,” she said, softly.

Chapter Text

~*~ 7 ~*~

Message repeats:

Acting Captain Tuvok to Captain Janeway and Lieutenant Commander Chakotay.

I am sending this message via automated messenger beacon. We have obtained a cure for the virus from the Vidiians and are travelling back to your location at warp nine. I estimate it will take a further four weeks to reach you. We will rendezvous with you on stardate 49722.5.

Message repeats:

Acting Captain Tuvok to Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay —

~*~*~

She shut off the message before it could repeat again.

“Succinct as always, Tuvok,” she muttered. Then she turned and looked at him. “Chakotay? Are you alright?” she asked quietly.

When they had listened to the message the first time, he’d had to sit down.

After the second time, there was a roaring in his ears and he was feeling sick.

After the third time, he’d had to put his head with his hands to stop the world from spinning.

She walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. She didn’t offer any platitudes or reassurance.

No.

No no no no no no...!

The word rung over and over in his mind, repeating until it lost all meaning and became a noiseless wail of denial.

There had to be some mistake.

“This is a trap, Kathryn,” he said hoarsely. “It has to be!”

She shook her head sadly. “No Chakotay, I don’t think so. The security codes are correct, and the encryption is hardcoded into the beacon. Nobody could have sent it other than a member of the Voyager crew with access to our highest security clearances.”

He shook his head wildly. “Maybe it’s another agent, like Jonas! They could have sent the message to lure us into an ambush,” he said, voice rising with desperation.

He knew he was grasping at straws, but he didn’t care.

She shook her head again. “No, Chakotay,” she said, with a sad finality. “We went over every square inch of our communications logs, reviewed every personnel file, interviewed everyone involved. If there had been another spy, we would have found them after Tom’s stunt.”

He stood up abruptly. “This is stupid and dangerous, Kathryn!” he shouted at her angrily. I can’t believe you’re just going to fall for this!”

She just stood there, silently shaking her head, with endless compassion in her eyes.

He couldn’t bear it.

He turned and stormed out of the shuttle.

~*~*~

I’m going to kill him.

I’m going to kill Tuvok.

The thought spun madly around and around in his head.

I’m going to kill him.

I’m going to kill him.

Oh, how he hated that Vulcan. Smug, arrogant son-of-a-bitch, always watching, always judging him, always working to undermine him in the Captain’s eyes.

And now he had come back just in time to destroy the paradise they had built together.

While disobeying a direct order.

Gods, how I hate him!

He tore away the tarpaulin covering the almost completed hull of the boat. The sight stopped him in his tracks.

Our boat.

All those hours they’d worked together to shape the hull, attach the planks and waterproof them. Constructed and attached the outrigger. She was almost ready for her first test run.

Which won’t ever happen now.

With a scream, Chakotay pushed his arm along the work bench, scattering tools and materials everywhere. Kicked the debris and stomped on the tools, again and again, until they shattered into fragments.

Then his eyes fell on one of the phasers he’d used to cut the wood for the exterior of the shed.

A wild idea roared to life in his mind.

Fuck you, Tuvok. Fuck you all!

He grabbed the phaser and set it to a wide beam heat-emission setting, then pointed it at the boat and fired. Held the trigger down until the wood began to smoke, then discolour as small flames started to lick the sides of the prow.

Increasing the intensity of the setting, he turned and fired again.

~*~*~

“Chakotay!” He heard her scream but didn’t turn around.

Heard her footsteps pound the earth and skirts rustle as she ran down the path to the riverbank and threw herself into the grass next to him.

“Chakotay! Oh thank Heavens! Are you hurt?”

He said nothing, only continued to stare at the flames consuming the workshop.

“Chakotay, talk to me!” She gripped his shoulders and forced him to face her, but he would not meet her eyes. “Are you okay? What happened? Did one of the tools malfunction?”

“No,” he said flatly.

“Then why…?” Her eyes searched his face, then fell on the phaser still held loosely in his hand. “Oh, no…” she moaned quietly. “It was you? You did this…?”

He said nothing, only returned to watching the inferno.

“Chakotay… That’s insane…” she whispered, anguished. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because it doesn’t matter now,” he said tonelessly.

“But… our boat! We were so close to finishing it!”

“And what would have been the point?” He threw her a vicious look. She recoiled from it, her eyes glistening with tears.

“We could’ve gone for at least one trip! Voyager doesn’t get here for another four weeks!” Her voice shook as she fought for control.

“Yeah? And then what?!” he said savagely. “Just leave it here, abandoned? To rot away into nothing?”

She stared at him with wide eyes, gritting her teeth and obviously fighting back tears. “We could’ve taken it with us. Transported it aboard…” she whispered hoarsely.

“Ha!” He laughed bitterly and then stared at her, forcing her to acknowledge her lie. That no such thing would ever have happened. Voyager had no spare cargo space for sentimental knickknacks.

She dropped her eyes and blinked as tears finally spilled down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this, Chakotay? What is going on?”

Seeing her so hurt twisted the dagger in his gut. He felt overwhelmed with shame and self-loathing, but he clung to his anger to avoid being swept away.

“You’re doing this Kathryn, not me!” he said harshly. “You are the one that is abandoning everything.”

She just stared at him, appalled, and shook her head.

“Yes, you are!”

“You know that’s not true, Chakotay,” she said quietly. “They’re bringing us the antidote to the virus. That means we can go back! There’s nothing stopping us from going home.”

“I thought you’d have realised this by now, Kathryn! We ARE home!”

“No Chakotay… no! Voyager is home. The Alpha quadrant is home. Earth is home!” She scrambled to her feet away from him, horror etched into her face. “You know this! The crew knows it! They all stayed, even when the Briori would have let them stay on their homeworld.” She looked at him, beseechingly. “And you stayed, too!”

He laughed bitterly. “Maybe that was a mistake.”

She shook her head, denying his words. “No, Chakotay. Don’t say that! You believe in our mission!”

He turned his head to stare at the flames again. “Maybe I don’t, anymore.”

She stumbled backwards a few steps, as if he had struck her. Stood there for long minutes, just staring at him.

He pretended not to care.

“Chakotay,” she said finally, and her voice was as cold and commanding as ever he’d heard it. “You may no longer believe in our mission, but I do. I swore to myself that I would get this crew home. And I will allow nothing and nobody to stop me.” She paused, then said with finality, “Not even you.”

Then she turned and walked back up the riverbank.

After she was gone, he sunk his head into his hands and cried.

~*~*~

Their last month together took both an eternity and less than the blink of an eye.

On the final evening, he sat staring dumbly into the fire in front of their hut, plate of food uneaten beside him.

She moved about quietly, packing and stowing away their equipment into the cargo boxes, ready for transport.

Finally, he felt her hand on his shoulder and looked up to find her handing him cup of tea. He accepted it wordlessly.

She sat down next to him and leaned her head against his shoulder. They sat unmoving for a long time.

“So, have you decided yet if you’re coming with me tomorrow?” she asked quietly, breaking the silence.

He said nothing, not trusting himself to speak.

“You can stay here, Chakotay. I’m not going to make you to come with us.”

All alone here, on this planet? Lightyears away from any other member of his species. Lightyears away from her.

The thought was too awful to contemplate.

She gripped his hand in hers. “Please, Chakotay. Please come with me. I will do this alone if I have to, but…” Her voice cracked. She swallowed. “I would so much rather do it with you by my side.”

He continued to stare into the fire. A million words were raging in his chest, clawing to come out, but he couldn’t say a single one of them. There were too many.

Please don’t make me.

I love you.

I don’t want to go back to that prison.

Please don’t go. Stay here with me.

Please don’t make me do this.

I can’t do this!

Kathryn.

Please.

He swallowed hard and let the tears that had gathered in his eyes roll down his cheeks. He concentrated his blurry gaze on the flames, just as he had so many times in the past few weeks while trying to reach his Spirit Guide.

But She had evaded his every attempt to reach Her.

I’m so alone.

The thought ripped into him like a physical blow and he hunched his shoulders.

He felt her arms circle his torso as she hugged him fiercely. The pressure held him together and he could breathe again.

“I’ll come,” he croaked.

She lifted her head and looked at him from a few inches away. He met her eyes for the first time in days. Her eyes were red and swollen, their blue made violet by the warm firelight. Her smile was miserably, despairingly grateful.

He tried to smile back but couldn’t.

Finally, he found his voice. “Promise me that you won’t forget. That this wasn’t meaningless. That… when we get back to Voyager, you won’t just erase everything that happened here.” Tears continued to roll down his face, but he made no move to stop them.

She brushed one away with her thumb and kissed him softly.

“I promise.”

~*~*~

Chakotay stood staring at the small patch of earth where Kathryn’s Talaxian tomatoes were now thriving.

The fabric of his uniform felt stiff and coarse, his heavy leather boots suffocating his usually bare feet.

He felt her come up behind him and turned to meet her. Her hair and uniform were immaculate, as always. She smiled at him encouragingly.

“How do you feel?”

“Fine,” he lied. They had both injected themselves with the antidote to the virus an hour ago and had noticed no ill effects so far.

“I’m sure the Doctor will give us both a thorough once-over as soon as we are back in his grasp,” she said, attempting a light-hearted tone.

He tried to smile back. “There will be plenty for us to do. We should be able to avoid his tender mercies at least for a few hours.”

She held his eyes, gaze steady and resolute. “We can do this, Chakotay. I believe in us.”

He did his best to match her gaze and nodded. She gripped his hand for a moment, then let go and tapped her combadge.

“Janeway to Voyager. Two to beam up.”

Chapter Text

~*~ 8 ~*~

Tuvok stood at attention in the transporter room when she and Chakotay were beamed aboard.

“Welcome aboard, Captain,” he said formally.

“Thank you, Tuvok,” she beamed. “It’s good to see you!”

“How are you feeling?”

“Oh, just fine!” She strode towards him and gripped his arms in their friendly compromise of a hug. “The antidote seems to be working well.”

Behind her, Chakotay stood where he had appeared, unmoving. He looked dazed.

Tuvok’s glance flicked briefly towards him, but Janeway didn’t seem to notice as she strode towards the door.

Knowing his responsibility was to her, not Chakotay, he fell in beside his Captain and matched her stride. She peppered him with questions as they made their way to the bridge, and he responded with succinct, factual statements.

In moments like this, he was reminded how much he valued her professionalism. He had steeled himself for an emotional scene, for anger or sadness. And he knew that the time would come when she would ask him a rather pointed question about disobeying her orders.

But for now, she was simply interested in his situation report, just like at the end of any other away mission.

Once arrived on the bridge, she sat down in her Captain’s chair and took charge, firing off a string of orders to coordinate the clean-up of their campsite.

Commander Chakotay entered the bridge then, quietly taking his seat next to hers without looking around or saying a word.

After half an hour of busy activity, Mr Kim said, “Captain, the transporter teams have confirmed the return of all materiel from the planet’s surface. Everything is present and accounted for.”

“Very good, Mr Kim. And thank you all. Well, we’ve lost time with all this. Let’s see if we can make some of it up. Mr Paris, warp eight.

“Aye, Captain,” Mr Paris responded.

The image of the green and blue planet winked out of existence from the viewscreen as they jumped to lightspeed.

A couple of minutes later, the Captain turned towards Commander Chakotay— the first time she had acknowledge him since they came back on board. “Commander, we’ll need to review the ship’s systems. I’ll handle propulsion, environmental and communication. You’ll be responsible for sensors, weapons and transporters.”

“Aye, Captain,” he responded. Tuvok watched closely for any signs of emotion, but the impassivity of Chakotay’s face came close to Vulcan standards. “I’ll have a report to you by 1800 hours.”

Curious.

But obviously the Captain noticed nothing amiss. “And check with phaser maintenance. See if they solved that problem with the pre-fire chamber temperature.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll see to it,” Chakotay nodded and started tapping commands into his console.

“Good. I’ll be in my ready room. Tuvok, with me. We have some catching up to do.”

She marched past him, and he bowed and followed.

~*~*~

After the door hissed closed behind them, she threw a gesture towards the couch. “Grab a seat, Tuvok. Tea?”

“No thank you,” he declined as he seated himself.

“Coffee, black,” she ordered and waited as the replicator spun up the hot drink. She picked it up gingerly and took a small sip, eyes closed in evident pleasure. “Oh… Heavens, it’s good to be home.”

“Were the beverages on the planet not up to your standards, Captain?”

She grinned at him. “Oh, the powdered stuff you left us wasn’t bad, but it tasted nothing as good as this.” She took the two steps at a jog and fell into the seat beside him.

“It is good to have you back, Captain. You look refreshed. The time away seems to have energised you.”

She looked at him with a small, wistful smile. “I feel like I’ve just woken up from long, long dream. It was beautiful and I loved it so much. But it also feels good to wake up and come back to what’s real, so to speak. Does that make any sense?”

“Perfectly.”

She stared out the window sadly for a moment. Then she visibly shook herself and turned back to him. “Now, we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yes Captain. First, let me formally apologise for disobeying your direct order by contacting the Vidiians for assistance. It was my decision and mine alone. The crew should all be absolved of responsibility in the matter, and I will personally accept any consequences which you may choose to enforce.”

Janeway looked at him seriously for a long moment. “Thank you, Tuvok. Can you tell me what happened?”

He briefly recounted the Doctor’s contact with Denara Pel, the ambush and the brief skirmish that had resulted.

She nodded gravely. “I am glad you were prepared. Can you tell me why you did it, knowing very well that it could be a trap?”

Tuvok took a moment to compose his thoughts. “As you can imagine, the crew was greatly distraught by events. At the time, I believed that it would demonstrate faulty leadership to be guided by those emotions and take an action which would require me to disobey an order, as well as knowingly put this crew into a life-threatening situation.”

She nodded, indicating him to continue.

“I was not aware of what it meant to be in command of a ship, until you made me Acting Captain and that responsibility rested squarely on my shoulders. I did not take it lightly. However. It was also made clear to me by several key members of the crew that a Captain cannot afford to ignore the sensibilities of those whom they command.”

Janeway nodded and smiled thoughtfully. “I see.”

“I have documented the reasons for my decision in my report, for future review by Starfleet and possible court-martial.”

She laughed sadly. “Oh Tuvok, unless a miracle happens and we find some kind of wormhole hiding behind the nearest sun, I don’t think you will have to worry about a court-martial for a long, long time.”

She reached out and touched his hand, her eyes full of quiet emotion. “Besides, I would never allow it. To be honest, I’m immensely grateful that you came back for us.” Then she withdrew, respecting his uneasiness with physical touch.

Tuvok nodded, acknowledging her sincerity and the restraint she was showing for his benefit. Then, he cocked his head to one side and said, “If we had not, I fear that Mr Kim would have led a mutiny against me. Ably assisted, I must add, by Kes and Lieutenants Torres and Paris.”

“Harry Kim?!” She stared at him for moment, grinning. “Tuvok… If I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you just made a joke.”

His passive face never wavered. “Captain, you know that I do not possess a sense of humour. As such, I am incapable of making jokes.”

She stared at him a little longer, then nodded with a slight smile. “Yes… I thought so. Who would have thought that Mr Kim had such leadership potential.”

“It would be wise to keep an eye on him in future. And to assess his potential for the Command Training Program.”

“I’ll take it under advisement,” she laughed. “Thanks, old friend.”

“One more thing, Captain.”

“What is it?”

Tuvok hesitated, weighing the wisdom of his next comment. Finally, he said, “I feel obligated to mention that I have noticed that Commander Chakotay in particular seems to have been emotionally impacted by his return to Voyager.”

Janeway looked down at her hands and uncharacteristically said nothing.

Ah.

“I hesitate to speculate on the nature of the relationship you had on the planet, and what, if anything, transpired there. However, as Chief Tactical Officer, I am duty-bound to point out that, lacking a ship’s counsellor to help you resolve the issue, there is a risk that the emotional after-effects of your experience may negatively affect your relationship, and even your leadership.”

“Thank you, Tuvok. Your concern is noted,” the Captain said, the previous warmth in her voice now completely replaced by her iron tone of command. “Let me assure you that I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening, and I am certain that the Commander will do the same. I have every faith in his professionalism.”

“Understood.” Tuvok bowed. “If there is nothing further, Captain?”

“No, thank you, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”

Chapter Text

~*~ 9 ~*~

One whole month.

One whole month had passed since they’d resumed their duties.

One whole month of polite chit-chat. Of total professionalism. Of locking up his screaming heart every morning. Of sitting 30 centimetres away from her on the bridge for eight hours a day.

Time was starting to play tricks on him. Sometimes, an hour felt like a whole day. At other times, two days passed without him realising, so caught up was he in his performance.

His performance of being fine.

He hesitated before he pushed the door chime to Kathryn’s quarters, ten metres down the hallway from his own.

“Come in,” she called.

He stepped inside.

“Ah Commander, thank you for coming,” she said with a friendly smile, her tone polite and business-like. Her uniform was crisp even after an entire shift, her hair in a perfect chignon. “Please, have a seat. I just wanted to check in with you, to see how you are adjusting to being back on duty.”

As always when he’d seen her this past month, an intense sense of vertigo gripped him and memories assaulted his senses.

Her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open, as he explored her body.

Her hair, haloed around her face and shining auburn in the firelight.

“Commander?” The smile faded from her face as he stood there staring at her. When he still didn’t respond, she asked more softly, “Chakotay, are you feeling alright?”

No.

He blinked and forced himself to attention. “Thank you, I’m fine. You wanted to speak to me, Captain.”

She threw him an inquiring look, but then returned to her business-like tone. “Yes, as I said, I would like to check in with you. It’s been one month since we— since our return, and there have been some concerns raised about you.”

Her gaze, locked to his, as she bucked her hips under him.

Her brilliant smile when he told her it was enough.

“Concerns? Has there been a problem with my behaviour or my decisions?” His voice came out harsher than he’d intended.

She held up both her hands in a placating gesture. “No, not at all! Perhaps I didn’t phrase that very well. Please, sit down.” She gestured to the sofa and sat down herself.

Laughing with her, standing hip-deep in the river.

Her moaning his name as they moved together.

He stared at her, fighting to separate the memories from the living, breathing woman in front of him. Every instinct was telling him this was a bad idea.

Run.

Get out, get out, get out!

“Please, Chakotay. Sit. I think we should talk.” Her voice was warm. The compassion and concern in her eyes almost broke his composure.

Wordlessly, he walked to the couch and sat down on the furthest end away from her, staring at the air in front of him.

“You’ve been very quiet since we’ve got back.”

The weight of her head resting on his shoulder.

The smell of her hair as he kissed the top of her head.

He clenched his teeth hard and scrunched up his eyes to force way the memories.

Stop!

“Is that what’s wrong with my behaviour? I’ve not been happy enough?” He knew his tone was defensive and felt ashamed, but he didn’t have any strength left for this charade.

She stared at him for a long moment. “I’ve had several private expressions of concern for your well-being, Commander,” she said, quietly. “I see now what they meant.”

He still didn’t look at her, fighting with all his might for composure. “What are you going to do, order me to mandatory psychotherapy with our ship’s counsellor?”

“Chakotay… You know very well that I can’t do that, even if I wanted to. But… I was hoping that we could at least talk about it. Find some way forward.”

“Why? You’re a champion at not talking about it. You know exactly what’s wrong and you have no intention of doing anything about it. So why this pretence?”

“Chakotay, I—”

He cut her off harshly. “What did you mean when you said, ‘We’ve lost time with all this’? Is that all this was to you, lost time?”

“Chakotay… You know that’s not what I meant!”

He shook his head, calling her words a lie, but clenched his teeth on the words. “You promised you wouldn’t do this,” he grated instead.

“Do what?”

“This! Erase everything! Pretend it never happened.”

“Chakotay, that’s not what I am doing at all!” she said, her voice rising but still heartfelt. “I’m not erasing anything. The time we had together, it was… beautiful. Magical. A precious miracle that neither of us could ever have anticipated. But I can’t go on living in a dream. I have a responsibility to be here, now. I need to face reality, Chakotay.”

He felt her place her warm hand on his own. He felt that tiny patch of warmth, knowing that this was all she would ever give him. It was worse than nothing.

He pulled his hand away. “It’s only a dream because you don’t want it to be real. Because you don’t want it to be now.”

He got up off the couch and walked to the other side of the room, trying to put some distance between them.

“How can you do this to yourself? How can you just take entire parts of your being and just… put them away? How can you mutilate your spirit like this?” He stared at her with anguished horror.

She just sat quietly. Her face was a mixture of pain and compassion.

He threw up his hands in frustration, starting to pace the room. “Down by the river, you said that you wanted to find the other parts of yourself. Find out who you are, besides Captain Janeway. You said that nobody ever pushed you. Nobody ever asked you to be more. Except me.”

He glared at her. “Well, here I am, Kathryn! I’m asking you now! What are you afraid of? Because I don’t think this is really about your duty. I think you’re using your duty as a shield. A safety net, a wall to hide behind. Because really, deep down. You’re. Just. Scared!”

He shouted the last three words at her, finally losing control over his anger and hurt.

The change in her was instantaneous. The warmth in her face disappeared and her eyes went cold as steel. “Chakotay,” her voice was level, controlled. “Do not raise your voice at me.” She stared him down, utterly calm.

All his anger drained away in a sickly flash and his legs felt weak. He dropped back down on the couch and leant forward, resting his arms on his knees, cradling his head his hands. Defeated.

She let a moment pass, as if to drive home her point. Her power over him.

Then she said, quietly, “You mentioned our conversation down by the river. Well, I also remember a conversation. About an angry warrior who found peace following the strong woman who defeated him. That he was content to stay by her side. That her needs would come first. And another conversation in front of a fire where that man said he would do this with me. What happened to that man?”

He clenched his jaw with pain and frustration.

“Yes!” he rasped. “I used to feel at peace all these years, serving on Voyager. Serving you. Because I had accepted that nothing more would ever be possible. Because I didn’t know what more could be possible!”

He groped for the right words to convey the depth of his emotion. “But now! Being back on this prison of a ship, Kathryn… I just can’t go back to the old charade. I’ve seen what is possible. I feel like I’ve seen… I’ve seen… the face of the Great Spirit herself.” He looked at her, desperate for her to understand. “And I must pursue it, with all my heart.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, her blue eyes dark and unreadable.

“Those months with you are a memory I will treasure for the rest of my life,” she said finally, her voice full of emotion. “But now we’re back, and I can no longer indulge myself. This isn’t a prison, Chakotay. This is a life raft. And I have a duty to get these people home. I’ve told you this before. I will not allow anything or anyone to stand in my way. You know that.”

He shook his head in despair.

“Maybe you can do this to yourself, but I can’t—” His voice broke, and he didn’t even try to hide it. “I just can’t…” he moaned.

“Chakotay, are you telling me that you can no longer be my First Officer?”

Yes.

No!

No, no, no!

He sat, frozen in horror. Unable to force out any words. Unable to move.

All he could hear was the roaring in his ears, like a great abyss had opened at the bottom of the sea, creating a monstrous, churning maelstrom.

She waited for his response, but he couldn’t say anything.

Finally, she said, “I see. Then, I hereby relieve you of duty. Please return to your quarters.” The sadness and finality in her voice cut him to the bone.

He watched his body get up mechanically and walk to the door, a puppet pulled by strings. His perception floated somewhere above his left shoulder. His body stood there unmoving for a moment, until he pulled the string attached to its arm and made it gesture at the door sensor.

The door opened with a hiss.

“Chakotay… I’m sorry.” Her toneless voice was barely above a whisper.

He left before she could say anything else.

He floated a metre above and behind his body and watched it walk mechanically to his office.

Not his quarters.

Too close. To her.

After his body had walked into his office, he worked air through its throat to say, “Computer, engage door lock, authorisation Chakotay Kappa 520.” His voice sounded fake. The computer beeped acknowledgement.

He walked his body into the furthest corner of the room and let it sink to the ground with its back against the wall. Wrapped its arms tightly around its knees.

This isn’t happening.

None of this is real.

This can’t be real.

His body started heaving in great gulps of air, over and over.

I’m drowning.

Breathe.

I’m so alone.

Breathe!