A/N This came to me when I was listening to the song 'Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You' by Colin Hay. It just seemed perfect for the Endgame J/C situation that the Admiral wanted to stop. The lyrics are from that song. It's awesome. Look it up.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek and I don't own anything by Colin Hay. This is just me borrowing the toys and then giving them back relatively unharmed or maimed...
***
I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
When I'm done I don't feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
Admiral Kathryn Janeway was making her weekly pilgrimage to the graveyard high on a hill above San Francisco. It was three months since he died and she still couldn't quite believe it, even after she had sat at his graveside through rain, storms and burning hot sun. The graveyard was always quiet and she had never met anyone she knew. It was comforting in a way; visiting Chakotay was her personal thing, but at the same time it was devastating. He had shut himself off so much from the people who cared about him in the last years of his life, so much so that even B'Elanna and Michael Ayala had virtually given up on him. When the news came that he was gone, it had been a good four months since Kathryn had spoken to him and even that had been brief and formal. After his relationship with Seven had been discovered, he and Kathryn never really spoken as friends again, not properly. Not like they used to.
A gentle breeze was blowing as Kathryn settled herself down, somewhat awkwardly, next to the simple plaque that marked his final resting place. She put one freezing cold hand into her coat pocket and withdrew the single, slightly crushed, white rose. This was a ritual to her now; she placed the rose carefully on the stone, touched his name and murmured,
"I'm here, Chakotay. You're not alone anymore."
Don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
Is that if I lived till I was a hundred and two
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
Because he was alone, and had been for so long. It had hurt everyone to see such a powerful man crumble before them and be unable to stop his pain. He had done his job almost as well as before, yes, but there was nothing else to him. Above anyone else, Kathryn felt guilty. B'Elanna had once blurted out, in the heat of an argument about Chakotay, that she, Kathryn, had more power to pull him out of himself than anyone else. Although the younger woman had apologised later, she had a very real point. Kathryn had no right to abandon him as she did. He had really hurt her when he linked up with Seven but after seven years of pushing him away, Chakotay didn't belong to her anymore. There was no reason for him to wait for her when all he wanted was laid before him.
When Kathryn tried to tell B'Elanna that, she had scoffed.
"Don't you see that Seven was never what he wanted? It was you! It was always you! And now he's dying because he thinks that he blew his chance with you. Please, Kathryn. You have to talk to him."
"What makes you think that I have anything to say that he wants to hear?"
"Because I know that you do. He needs you and I know you need him. Just do it, for both your sakes!"
And, of course, B'Elanna was right. Kathryn had let him down and now it was too late to do anything.
Your face it dances and it haunts me
Laughter still ringing in my ears
Still find pieces for your presence here
Even after all these years
Because whilst Chakotay had been slowly destroying himself, she too was suffering. In all the years that they had been traveling home, Kathryn was alone too. She went on a few dates and had a few brief affairs along the way but they never came to anything and, if she was perfectly honest, she preferred to be alone anyway. It gave her a chance to think and imagine what life would be like if she had said yes when she instead said no. The acute, stabbing pain had dulled to an ache now she was older but it was still there. B'Elanna had said that she was always Chakotay's 'one'. He was certainly hers. No other man ever came close.
She sat for an hour or so, telling him everything that was going on with their old crew and asking his advice. It was a grave regret that it was only when he died that she felt able to talk to him again. When it was time to go, she finished off her weekly ritual; she bent down and lightly kissed the plaque, running a finger one more time over his name.
"I'm so sorry Chakotay. I love you. Be happy, wherever you are."
Stumbling as she stood, Kathryn wiped the single tear of frustrated anger from her eye. Chakotay deserved so much more from the golden years of his life than he ever got and, she mused, so did she. Stubbornness had claimed everything the two of them shared and then taken more. Just after he died, Kathryn envied Chakotay and his freedom from everything that plagued the two of them. That was when she decided to perform her weekly ritual. It might be too late in life to save him from himself but in death, she could love him as though he was hers to love.
If I lived till I was a hundred and two
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
