Disclaimer: I don't own ST: Voyager, nor will I ever. Don't come knocking for money that I don't have.
Summary: Kathryn Janeway says goodbye to the one she once loved.
Author's Note: This story talks about strong emotions, and of death. Definitely character death. It's heavily implied that suicide is the cause of said death. Don't like that type of thing? Then move on, please. Thanks.
Pairs: Chakotay/Seven, but not by choice.
Goodbye
By
peacejaw
Hate. Despise. Or is it both? I don't know, and to be honest, I don't give a damn. At one time, I respected you, trusted you. Not anymore. You stole my daughter away from me, and I'll never forgive you for that. I thought that we'd had something once upon a time. But you have clearly moved on… even though you'd promised that you'd always stick by my side. So what am I supposed to do now?
Hate and despise, I guess. We are still not home, and it's been nearly twenty-three years since we landed in the Delta Quadrant. Why did you give up on us? I was willing to wait. You'd promised to do the same thing. We'd agreed that it wouldn't take the full seventy-five years to get home. Why couldn't you have waited like you'd promised?
I hate and despise you, did you know that? That's all I do now, hate and despise you. I am reckless beyond belief; I know this, yet I can't seem to stop this. I'm not sure that I want to. I have also been cold and calculating, or so I've been told.
Yes, I hate and despise you. What do I care? It doesn't matter anymore, I suppose. You tell me that I value getting our crew home more than anything else –even the crew itself. So what? At least I'm trying to get this crew home no matter what happens to us.
I hate and despise you because you constantly tell me that I do not listen to reason, even if it means ignoring other options of getting us home quicker. It doesn't seem like you want to get this crew home, so I don't really give a damn what you think of me. This crew deserves to be able to return to home. So do I. I'm tired of being alone, of always being in command mode. It is too much, too lonely.
Hate. Despise. Anger. Bitter. Yes, I am all those things. But it doesn't really matter, now does it? You are no longer available to me, and never will be. What am I supposed to do now that you've moved on? Find someone else to love? I don't think so. You are my one and only, even though you are with another.
Anger and bitterness. Of course I'm angry. Of course I'm bitter. Wouldn't you be if you were in my shoes? You choose her over me. She's way too young for you, Chakotay. You don't seem to care though. Annika Hansen is not for you. Why did you have to choose her? Why did you have to choose her over me?
You left me. I may still love you, but I also hate you. I despise you. I am angry with you, at you. And yes, I am damn bitter with you. Even if you'd leave Annika at this point, I don't think that I could ever be with you ever again. There is just too much bad history between us.
Now, if you'll be so kind as to take over the command of Voyager, I'd be ever so grateful. My life is now over. I'm dying, and there isn't much time to say goodbye. The poison in my system is so close to taking my life, and I am ready for things to be over once and for all. By the time you see this, it will be too late. And the Doctor will not be able to do anything for me, so don't even bother trying to save me.
It's just too much, living without you. Good luck with getting the crew home, Chakotay. You'll need it.
K. Janeway