August 2012

Author's Note: Came to me one (very!) late night. I always thought Chakotay was secretly very haggard from his experiences with those dastardly Cardassians. Here's how I think he dealt with it. Oh and P.S. can't remember if this fits in with the timeline so I guess it's A.U. Lemme know what you think!

He thought the pain combined with silence was unbearable, that it couldn't get any worse. He was wrong. The sound that truly made him want to die were the raking sobs of his friends and comrades, the heart-wrenching weeping of those returning from the torture chambers. Chakotay slumped over on his side, squeezed his eyes tight shut. Please, spirits. Let me die. The crying began to escalate, rose into hysterical sobbing and then throaty, full-voiced screams-please, make it stop, kill me, kill me, just make the noise STOP!

Chakotay gasped as he woke up, eyes frantically darting all over the darkened room. It took him a moment to realize that he was not in a Cardassian torture camp but in his quarters on Voyager, safe. Safe to a point, he thought bleakly to himself. Even a powerful starship armed with photonic weapons and warp capabilities couldn't protect him from nightmares. Chakotay rolled onto his back waiting for his pounding heartbeat to slow. His shirtless body trembled a little under a cold sweat. Chakotay's frenetic heart rate eventually slowed but his racing mind did not. Shadows on the wall morphed into evil shapes, normal noises becoming unwelcome footsteps. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Chakotay pulled on his uniform and strode out of his quarters. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he sure as hell wasn't staying there.

Chakotay found himself in the mess hall after a few laps of the mostly deserted corridors. The lights were dimmed and he left them that way, eager to see the stars after hours of eerie florescent lighting. "Late night?" Came a wry, familiar voice from the corner. Chakotay started a little at the sudden interruption. "Did I scare you, Commander?" Captain Janeway stepped into the light, setting her coffee cup down on a nearby table. A pained smile ghosted across her executive officer's face. "No, I was just…lost in thought." He looked to the floor dejectedly.

Janeway picked up on the uncharacteristic seriousness in his tone and her eyebrows knitted with concern. She touched his elbow. "What's wrong, Chakotay?" Janeway asked gently. He looked away from her as he mumbled his answer. "Nightmare."

"Care to discuss it?" Janeway settled herself onto the chair by the table where her coffee was and took a sip. Chakotay raked his fingers through his hair, giving the night sky one last look before joining her at the table. He sighed heavily before beginning.

"It was ten years ago, just after I had officially joined the Maquis. On one of my very first missions, I was captured by the Cardassians along with the rest of the team." Chakotay closed his eyes for a moment. Shadows on his face threw into relief the lines on his handsome face, and suddenly, he looked much older, wearier, battle worn. He opened his eyes again and there was a harrowed looked that Janeway hadn't seen-or noticed-before. "Seven of us were taken to that torture camp. Three of us were beamed out." Janeway's eyes had widened in horror and her mouth hung slightly open. "I don't normally dream about it. But tonight-tonight I heard their screams, Kathryn. I didn't know what to do-I just had to get away from their screams…"

"Shhh," Janeway soothed. She pressed her palm to the side of his anguished face and wiped away tears he hadn't realized were there, although her eyes too were unusually bright in the semi-darkness. They stayed that way for a long time, him drawing strength from her warm touch, she shouldering some of his grief. Finally, Chakotay broke the silence with a question that had been bothering him.

"Why are you up so late, Kathryn?" He asked hoarsely.

"Oh," she sighed. "Just thinking about how things would have been different if I hadn't destroyed the array. Who would still be here…where we would all be…" "Stop it," Chakotay told her firmly. "This crew fully supports the decision. You made the right choice."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

Janeway closed her eyes and smiled a little, weary smile. She knew the issue wasn't fully laid to rest, that it would continue to dog her for (many) late nights to come, but Chakotay's assurances momentarily placated her. She gazed at her companion. "We're quite the pair, Chakotay. Both…haunted."

Chakotay held up his hand, fingers spread wide in a familiar gesture. "If you ever need me, you know where to find me," he told her softly without breaking her gaze. "I'll try to chase the ghosts away," she finished, promising what she only hoped she could deliver. Janeway's hand met his. Their palms clasped, fingers interlocking. It wasn't as though the past disappeared-suddenly, it just didn't seem so important anymore. For a moment, neither felt quite so haunted.

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