Long Way Home
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Author's Note. Major Angst. Not for the faint hearted. I originally started watching Voyager as a child over ten years ago and have read fanfiction since 2002, although I have never written Voyager fanfiction for publication before. I recognized Janeway and Chakotay as a couple before I fully understood what romance is (I come from a culture where romance is not the norm). Back in 2002 or so, most people who wrote fanfiction supported Janeway and Chakotay as a couple. I have noticed recently that these days most people are writing Seven/Chakotay or female slash relationships. While I understand that this is a matter of personal taste, I guess I miss the J/C movement. I was going to write an unusual pairing into this, but now I am considering bringing back J/C I am not promising anything either way yet, but even if this story ends up being non-J/C that is my favorite couple.
I am a law student with very little time. Reviews will keep me motivated. I realize that this is extreme angst. I do not think this is canon. I am just playing around. I have never watched Next Generation and all I know about Beverly Crusher and Deanna Troi is what I have heard in Voyager. Please review and let me know what you think.
Nearly as long as they had been in the Delta Quadrant. That's how long she had been trapped in this hellhole. But then again, she no longer knew the difference. She was naked. She was aware that others wore clothes, but she couldn't remember ever having clothes. She had felt them once when one of her captors had leaned over her. Her crushed hand had come into contact with the soft warm cloth and she had longed to grab it. It was nice. She didn't get the chance. Although she would never have been bold enough to voluntarily touch the cloth, it was decided she must be punished. The beating her poor body had received warned her away from the tempting cloth.
Other were warm too. She was always cold. She didn't remember being warm, but sometimes when one of them was on her, it was a little warmer. Perhaps not warmer, but rather, a little less cold then the usual bone chilling temperature had settled in her body. Clothes, warmth, food, water and kindness, all things the others shared with one another, perhaps not kindness, but at least no one was cruel to them as they were cruel to her. On rare occasions, her mind would gather itself sufficiently to notice these things, but even when she did, it never occurred to her to hope for any such goodness for herself. She knew no state of living other than that which she experienced now and had no reason to think it would ever end.
She had no way to know that today was different. She hadn't known that one day this could end. But five years had passed. One of the men entered the cell. It was a chilly concrete, basement like cell with no light. She had no bed or pallet and lay on the bare floor. She saw the hose and trembled. She had to be cleaned she knew this, but it was so cold. She bit back a whimper. She knew what would happen if she did not. The icy jets hit her and she forced her self to keep from squirming, not that she had anything left in her to squirm with. No one would have thought that this same woman once loved water and bathing.
All days were the same. She was cleaned, and men came. The sticks came and most of her day was passed with their attentions. Her battered body was beaten, daily, her bones crushed, hours and hours passed relentlessly. Occasionally someone fiddled with a hypospray. She did not know that her captures had found a drug to enhance her pain even more than repeated blows to already bones would. She did not know that the near constant fits of epilepsy were a result of her body trying to shut down from the sheer pain, that her body had long ago reached the point where the unending abuse should have killed her and nothing more than the drugs coursing through her body, forcing her heart to beat and lungs to breathe were keeping her alive. This way, there was no limit to what she could be made to endure.
As time passed, she shook more. She tried not too. It upset them, but then again, the more she shook, the angrier they got. She couldn't help it. Just like she couldn't help the way her mouth fell open to scream silent screams. It made them angry, but how could someone forced to endure pain beyond what a person should be able to endure and still stay alive not scream. She had screamed so much for so long, she had lost her voice completely. It was so long ago that she did not remember her own voice. Had the pain not been all consuming, she might have wondered if she had one. After hours of beatings intertwined with one or more of the men mounting her to perform acts she did not understand, her bones, if they were too shattered to allow her skeleton even minor intactness, would be minimally mended, or bound, whatever they felt would cause the most pain. She might be given a little water, or a small amount of hard bread which her broken jaw could not move enough to let into her mouth and bite. Instead she sucked at it as best she could until it slowly dissolved in her mouth. She had no strength to finish the bread and struggled to force herself to endure the pain it would cause to bite down on it. Instead she saved half or more, which was just as well, because she was not always fed. It was the lack of water that got to her. Often it would be left far away from her. She could not reach. Sometimes in her desperate attempts to reach it she would knock it over and she would hear laughter. Then her poor body would dose as much as the pain would let it, sometimes seconds, sometimes moments of sleep before the agony wretched her awake. Sleep another thing she lacked that her body was half death in need of. Again, only the strong hypo sprays allowed her body to live through such deprivation.
If she had the strength then, she would have been shocked when she was lifted forcibly and carried from the room. She had never left the room before. Oh the agony of his arms holding her so tightly. Her body jerked in a desperate but futile attempt to lose consciousness. She was dumped on the cool metal floor. Unlike her cell, it was light inside. She squinted. She did not remember more than a candle's worth of light. There were chairs ahead and she was shocked to be ignored while the others took the seats. She felt shaking as the room lifted up and entered the night sky. In her old life she would have immediately known that she was in a shuttle. Here, she could only shake in fear at the terrible unknown. She had no way of knowing how much time had passed, and she was no longer in the habit of dwelling on it. As usual, one or the other was always with her. The littler one of the group stood at 7 feet tall. He had a thick stick and went for her ribs. Her poor body whimpered plaintively. Against the agony of her crushed skeleton, she pulled her legs up to try to protect her ribs, but she knew that his target would change to her hips and back, her two most painful regions. Save for the lighting and the movement of the shuttle, there was nothing different between here and where she came from. If anything it was worse. Her captors were in a frenzy.
After days had passed the shuttle stopped, shaking heavily at the descent. She whimpered when her hurting body was thrown against the wall but then bit her lip the keep the men from hearing her. They seemed not to for once. A small mercy, but as the shuttle came to a final stop, one of them picked up her naked form so roughly that in that moment she thought the worst hell was yet to come. She was being carried somewhere. They exited the shuttle and she felt the bright light of the sun and the warm air of San Francisco for the first time. She squinted deeply, trying to keep the sun out of her eyes. But the warmth felt nice she thought, it eased her pain just the slightest bit. Her body relaxed a bit and her captor tightened his grip to ensure her continued suffering. She had no way of knowing that all around people were staring at her naked body. She failed to recognize the uniform she had spent the majority of her life. The man carrying her came to a stop and suddenly dropped her. She waited for the blows to begin as she grunted silently at the contact with the concrete. For the first time in her memory, they did not come. Instead they walked away, leaving her in front of Star Fleet Head Quarters.
Inside headquarters, the admirals looked on with horror. Five years ago, when they had sent Kathryn Janeway to a Cardassian prison, they never though they would have to see her again. Those who had any sympathy for her were muzzled or looked past their own consciences. Someone had to pay for the breach of protocol and she was such an easy target. Truth be told, there was no one in that room who though she was guilty of an unforgivable breach of the Prime Directive. But there were many in that room who feared her power in Star Fleet and in the Federation. There was even talk of making her president. People and Star Fleet officers alike saw her as a true leader who put the welfare of her crew above everything else.
Star Fleet was even pleased to see how loyal her Maquis and Equinox crew members were to her and how ready she was to protect them. It was so easy to tell her unless she cooperated they were all going to jail or worse. By day's end she had made her the carefully worded speech she had been given and walked away forever. No one outside that group of Admirals knew what happened to her. Today there was no one to care for her. Her crew resented her for leaving them and that resentment grew to indifference or hatred, who knew what was worse. They had all moved on. They didn't need her. Her sister had always hated her and had her mother at their beck and call. After all Phoebe said, she was married and a mother now, she should be the more important sister and Kathryn was irrelevant. Gretchen and Kathryn had never been close. Phoebe was a mother and needed her help. She was pleased to give her full attention to her younger daughter. Kathryn could take care of herself.
The admirals looked at that broken body. What to do with her? More jail? No, then people would know then. Couldn't dump her on the street, someone could find her. Then it came to Admiral Necheyev, the cruel woman looked at the skeletal frame turned in on itself to protect itself from any forth coming blows, still whimpering silently from her contact with the hard cement. "The Ward."
The ward was perfect. It was an empty wing of the medical center. The old insane asylum. It would be so easy to hide. No one else went there. She needed only a single guard. By hour's end her fragile body had been moved once again.
Dr. Beverly Crusher and Counselor Deanna Troi were walking of Star Fleet Medical for lunch. The counselor didn't notice her friend stop in front of the empty ward immediately, until she hummed. Deanna turned and followed her friend to a stop.
"What is it?"
"Him?"
"Who?"
"The guard. He has been there for over a month. Everyday in that old insane asylum, the one that is supposed to be empty."
"Maybe he is just making his rounds."
"No, its supposed to be close. He shouldn't be there."
Deanna started towards the ward. Beverly hesitated then followed. As they stepped through the door to the ward, the guard raised his weapon. Beverly immediately raised security and before the man could protest, he was taken down by the guards to the medical building.
"Who are you?"
The man remained silent. It was a matter of seconds to fingerprint him and pull up his file. A murderer, a violent abusive man, who had a record of violence in prison had been released in exchange for guarding a prison for a group of Star Fleet Admirals.
"Who are you guarding?" Beverly demanded. The man remained silent and her patience ran out. She began searching every room and Deanna started the other way. Guards not holding the man down began looking in other rooms. Suddenly she heard Deanna's soft "Oh Sweet God." Beverly ran towards the room. At the door they all stopped. The cement walls were punctured only by the cement door with a tiny window through which Deanna had first peered. She slowly opened the door. Inside the room was gray and a mere 7 feet by 6 feet. There was a small cot in miserable condition with the thinnest mattress and blanket Beverly had ever seen. A small door led to a bathroom barely large enough to stand in. There were two hooks on the wall and a single cotton robe hung from one of the hooks. A small window let in the smallest amount of light. On the bed lay a small body. Only the person's head stuck out. She had long auburn hair and classic features, pale skin and she imagined blue eyes. It was hard to see, they were swollen and red. She was so thin that her bones poked out through her thin robe and blanket and Beverly could see a break in her jaw. Her hands rested on top of her chest and Beverly could see there was swelling in her hands around her broken fingers and knuckles. Beverly gently walked towards the woman and the poor thing shrank away. Her little fingers tried to clutch the blanket to her body. She had never had a blanket before. She desperately didn't want to lose it.
Deanna Troi walked in hesitantly. Although only half Betazed, she was able to gently touch the woman's mind. Beverly was now kneeling before the small form and was running a tricorder up and down her body. She seemed not to recognize the technology and Beverly moved slowly to avoid frightening her any more than necessary. The two of them studied her hard and then together turned to one another and whispered.
"Captain Janeway."
They turned back to the woman who looked at them unrecognizing. Everyone knew that she had disappeared after Voyager's return. No one knew why. Beverly felt tears come to her eyes as she read the poor woman's scan's
" Her bones, they are crushed or broken from constant beatings. Some of them have been bound or healed crudely to keep her together. Her organs are damages from the beatings and she is cut up from whippings that have shredded her back and legs and even some of her stomach and chest. She has been stabbed, stretched, shot, raped, burned, suffocated, thrown from heights, for the last five years. There is some drug in her system keeping her alive, it also enhances the pain as if it wasn't bad enough. There is some evidence that her bones have been occasionally bound and bleeding has been stopped, but that is it."
"She has no memory beyond being in the cell, she is very confused as to how she got to be here and why. She thinks it is nice here." Deanna said, at Beverly's glance she added, "she's projecting. She is terribly afraid of us. Speak softer and don't move so fast."
Beverly turned back to the poor woman, she was trembling and clearly terrified. She shrank back as much as she could and curled up in on herself in an obvious attempt to protect herself. Her lips formed a moan, but no sound came out. Beverly scanned her vocal cords. " Her vocal cords are strained beyond repair, probably from screaming for a long period of time, she had lost her voice entirely."
"We have to do something. Let's move her to the medical ward."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A voice came from the back. Her guard was standing in the door flasked by Medical Lab guards. "The order to keep her here comes from very high up." The man smirked.
The guards peered inside and for the first time saw the state of the poor woman lying before them. They quickly restrained the man and took him to the brig. A few stayed behind looking helplessly. One of them started, " we should get help." And started to run to get more medical personnel.
"No Ensign." Beverly said. The man stopped. "She is too frightened. We have to be gentle with her." Beverly looked over her shoulder. Deanna was kneeling next to Janeway. She looked like she might stroke the Captain's hair but at her terror merely pulled the blanket tighter around the woman and then with infinite tenderness patted the swollen, broken hand that clung to it.
Beverly started again. "I need an anti-grav and a clear path to intensive care ready room in the VIP wing. It's empty isn't it?" the man nodded. Beverly returned and monitored the Captain's heart rate. It was erratic, racing higher and higher. Just as she thought the woman would crash, her heart rate dropped to 130 beats, still to high, but the rapid drop triggered a violent seizure. Beverly scanned her realizing that the seizure was her body fighting to lose the battle and slip into unconsciousness or worse and the drug forcing her to remain conscious and alive. Deanna backed off. After a good sixty seconds, her worn body slacked. Her eyes shut momentarily. Her breathing had been raspy the whole time but after the seizure, her breath was nearly gone. How hard she was laboring to pull in a single breath of air. The guard was back with the anti-grav and a first aid kit. He waited at the door, unwilling to enter without permission. Beverly motioned to Deanna to get the kit. When she returned Beverly pulled out the old fashioned oxygen mask and placed it gently over the poor woman's face. Beverly watched the relief on her face as it became a little less difficult to breath.
She motioned the guard over with the anti-grav. Deanna suddenly started sobbing. Beverly turned to her , " I can hear her thoughts. Or feel them anyway. She doesn't understand why we aren't hurting her. She thinks this is the kindest place she has ever been. She thinks this thin mattress and thread bare blanket are the greatest kindnesses she has ever had. She thinks that that guard is kind because he only hits her and rapes her a few times a day, not all day long and he gives her at least two glasses of water a day. She doesn't understand what we are doing, but she is scared of us, even though she thinks we are the kindest people she has ever met."
"We haven't done anything for her yet."
"We haven't hurt her." The guard brought the anti grav over. "We have to move her onto this as gently as humanly possible." Beverly positioned the guard at her feet, Deanna at her head and she herself put her hands gently at her middle. She looked horrified at the touch. With infinite gentleness, the three horrified people lifted her and placed her as softly as they could on the anti-grav. She just whimpered quietly. It broke their hearts to see the woman use her thin arms and legs, abused as they were to try to protect her shattered ribs, back and hip area. She could not bear even the slightest touch and clearly feared worse to come. "She is hurting more. She thinks we will hurt her worse."
"We will just have to show her that we are trying to help." The placed her down and Deanna spread the thick, warm blanket the guard had brought. The started slowly guiding the anti-grav to the main ward. It was empty the entire way to Beverly's relief. The lights were too bright Beverly realized. She would have turned them off, but she was afraid of tripping and hurting the woman. She would have pulled the blanket over her face, but she could hardly breath as it was. She needed to stay with the battered woman. If she crashed, there was no one but her who could do anything for her. To be honest Beverly didn't know what she could do for her either. It was a long walk to her room. Deanna wanted to hold her hand but knew it would be too much for her. It was so hard for them to reconcile the confident, intelligent and capable leader, probably the best captain in the fleet to the woman before them.
Fifteen minutes later, they slowly brought the woman into the comfortable room and lifted her onto the bed. It was big, soft and with a thick mattress and pillows, a far cry from the inch thick pallet she had been sleeping on and from the concrete floors in the Cardassian prison. Beverly knew she would never forget the look of relief that came over the poor woman's face as the mattress gently supported her broken bones. Beverly realized sadly that this was probably the first time in the woman's memory that someone had tried to make her comfortable. She knew that the comfort they had provided was akin to giving someone who is shot in the gut a pillow to put under his head while lying on the floor, but it was more than she had ever had. She was trembling still and her skin was ashen from the pain caused by moving her. They covered her up and Beverly moved over to the computer to read the scans. In addition to her treatment, she had lost her memory due to the pain or a blow to the head. Either way, all the woman knew of her existence was her time with the Cardassians and then her time in the psych ward with an abusive guard. The drug concerned Beverly greatly, in addition to keeping her alive, it was enhancing her already dangerously high pain levels. Due to this, she could receive no pain medication. The drug was in such high quantities in her system that it would take months to flush out. If she survived that long, then they would have to be vary. When the drugs were flushed out of her system, if she was not well enough at that time, her systems could crash without the drug to keep her alive.
Author's Note: I know this is an extreme non-canon. I am trying something different. I am not sure if there will be a relationship in this story or if so who. Please review. I was wondering if anyone is familiar with a J/C story that used to be posted on a private page. In it, Janeway and Chakotay are married when Chakotay divorces her when he learns she cannot have children. However, she is pregnant with twins (without his knowledge) at the time of their divorce. Chakotay wants to be the father, but Janeway can't get over his betrayal. In it, Chakotay also becomes Christian. If anyone is familiar with this story or where to find it online please let me know. Again, please review this story, whether you like it, hate it or have ideas to improve it.