a/n: This is my entry into the first round of the JC Cutthroat Competition as part of the Alpha Group. We had to write to a prompt. I chose the quote below by Bette Davis. Judging commences September 30th.

Set in the unaltered timeline we see in the Admiral's 'Endgame'. General warning for angst and all things sad. (Because that's how I roll). Thank you to the wonderful Helen8462 for the numerous beta reads, and for encouraging me when I was ready to give up on this and return to my day job.

Right This Ship

Written to the prompt: 'Pleasure of love lasts but a moment. Pain of love lasts a lifetime.' – Bette Davis.

Chapter One: You Took a Piece of Me

"Chakotay!" she yells. "You have to try!"

I am breathing deep and trying to stay still. I am so desperately working to keep my eyes open and looking at her but all I can think is this hurts.

It's late, it's dark, and we are stuck on some damn planet thousands of light years from home. I have no idea how or why she ends up in front of me, small hands pressing insistently into my chest to stem the rapid flow of blood.

All I know is whatever it is she is doing hurts.

And, it's her damn fault we are here in the first place.

She's trying to move me, dragging me across a dirt floor as my unfocused eyes stare at a sky filled with flashing clouds. I can hear her gasping sobs in between each forced breath. She can't move me; I'm too heavy. I know I need to stand, to help her and move my own weight but I'm far too tired to try.

"I need you to do this!" she cries, tugging with painful force on what's left of my tattered uniform. She tries unsuccessfully to haul me up, as if she is trying to pull me away from the darkness that's threatening to claim me in this instant.

And it's so easy to let it.

I can see it though, the black spots appearing on the edges of my vision as my eyelids grow exponentially heavy. I've been here before - floating to an unknown destination. This time, I know I won't walk away like I have before.

I can't bring myself to say goodbye to her because I'd never wanted to find out what lay on the other side of that darkness. Over the years, I'd had so many chances, so many close calls that I've lost count. In the last seven years I'd never needed to follow that darkness, because living had somehow become important to me. I'd made a promise to her, to be by her side

Only now… it's different.

Because the years that passed us by since I made that promise have not been kind. I had a wife that needed me by her side and a Captain that was so far gone that she doesn't need anyone anymore.

"Chakotay!" she calls, and my fading vision tries to focus on her face. "I can't do this without you," she implores and I think I have never heard her sound so desperate.

Except perhaps once, a long time ago when I caught a glimpse of a vulnerable woman who needed something from me. I remember now, suddenly, just how intrigued I had become by her in those early years of our journey, and how quickly she had worked her way under my skin.

"God! Why won't you just work?"

I heard the scream, followed by the sound of something heavy impacting the shared wall between our quarters.

I'm breathing harder now, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to focus on the memory rather than the pain washing over me. It's been so long since I've dared to relive those early days, those early memories where my hopes and dreams had not been so far away.

Where, in the beginning of our journey, it had never been too much to push forward, telling myself that one day the Captain would one day come to me and leave her principles behind. I'd forgotten now, what it was like in those early years to look forward to those moments on the bridge where she'd turn, look at me and whisper something meant solely for my ears.

The silent electricity that had sparked between us, even then, had been hard to ignore.

I remember that day so well now. It was the day I realised that whatever had begun between us, no matter how unexpected, was never going to stop.

I have known many strong women in my life, but Kathryn Janeway was something else entirely. Despite the ranks, beliefs and institutions that separated us, I never hesitated that evening to go to her, curiosity mixed with hesitation burning in my chest as I'd heard a second thump hit our shared wall. I did not even think to comm her first, or inquire with the computer as to her whereabouts.

My small supper lay forgotten on the table as I almost ran out of my quarters, rounding the small curve in the hall before coming to stand outside her door.

It was only later, much later, when I lay in my darkened quarters unable to sleep that I realised it wasn't the sound of the thudding against the wall, nor the curiosity that compelled me to run to her door. It was the sheer desperation in her voice, muffled but hoarse with frustration and tears.

It was a sound so unlike anything I came to expect from her.

"Captain?" I called, pressing the chime with my thumb and giving it all of two seconds before entering my override and stepping into her darkened quarters.

It had taken a moment to adjust to the dim light, and I squinted my eyes. I looked down, automatically focusing on the mess of what looked like replicator parts scattered about the regulation grey of the Starfleet carpet.

"Captain?"

She appeared then, obviously startled by my voice in her otherwise silent quarters at this time of the night. She stood in the doorway to her bedroom, the faint glow of the stars casting a small silhouette onto the floor.

I hardly recognised her, hair flowing freely over bare shoulders. It was such a contrast to the tight bun she wore on duty that for a moment she looked entirely like a different person. It was the first time I saw her in anything other than a red and black uniform, and the image of her standing there, in nothing more than a pink nightgown and a mess of auburn hair stayed with me for years.

She stared at me, disbelief on her features. The starlight reflected off the tear tracks that streaked her pale cheeks.

"Commander?"

Her voice was small and fragile in the silence of her quarters.

"Commander, I am sorry if I have disturbed you," she said after a moment. Her bare arm waved in the general direction toward the mess at my feet.

"It's not a problem, Captain," I said, clearing my throat. "Is everything alright?"

She took a deep breath, shrugging her shoulders as she glanced up at the ceiling. I was so taken the with expanse of her pale throat, hypnotised by the way her muscles moved as she swallowed.

"Everything is fine, thank you Commander," she said, levelling her gaze to look at me again.

"Chakotay," I corrected automatically and the confusion had registered in her eyes. I moved then, bending down to pick up a piece of what I now recognised as her replicator, holding it out with a laugh. "What happened?"

She looked away, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I called it a glorified toaster and it now hates me."

I laughed for real then, and she looked at me with feigned anger. For here, in front of me, stood the almighty Captain Janeway dressed in little more than a scrap of silk with bare feet and tear-streaked cheeks, defeated by a replicator which now lay in pieces on her floor.

I thought for a second that she was going to tell me to get out, to leave and never speak of it again. She spun on her heel and vanished into the room behind her and I was left standing amongst the bits and pieces littering the floor.

I dropped the piece I'd been holding, the sound echoing throughout the room. I sighed kneeling down to start sorting the pieces with the intent to piece them back together. I was so focused on the job that her small hand on my shoulder startled me, and she jumped back in surprise.

"Sorry," she said, opening her mouth to add what I knew was 'Commander', only she paused and thought it over before adding a shy: "Chakotay."

I smiled, the feeling of my name coming from her lips becoming something I could get used to. "What were you trying to do?"

She drew herself up, preparing to justify her actions and it was then that I noticed she had gone to put on a matching robe. "I wanted a coffee. Damn thing never does what I want it to do."

"At this time of night?" I questioned, getting the sinking feeling that this was going to be something of a battle between us for the next seventy-five years. "Maybe the replicator was trying to tell you something."

"I like it."

Sighing, I met her blue eyes, crystal clear and shining bright from my place kneeling on her floor. "Should I get you one from my replicator? And then we can put this one back together."

"Yes," she all but cried.

I nodded, smothering a grin and standing up straight. I stumbled a little bit, my bad knee protesting from staying on the floor a little bit too long and I nearly crashed into her. She smiled, a small but genuine smile, and reached out to steady me with a petite hand on my arm.

The warmth of her fingers shocked me, causing small shivers and she dropped her hand with surprise. I stepped back, the feeling of needing to leave growing with each passing second.

I often wondered over the passing months if she had realised just how close I had come to pulling her closer rather than stepping back.

She must have, because she muttered a small goodnight and I never returned with her coffee.

But I could never forget the desperation in her voice, the sheer frustration as she'd shouted. She'd really needed someone in that moment, and I am forever grateful that it had been me who chose to stand at her door.

Over the years, I'd heard that desperation only a few more times. Eventually, she had stopped showing me her weaknesses, choosing to hide them once more behind the closed doors of her quarters or ready room. Only now she sits before me, fiercely begging me to fight as I lay dying right in front of her. The feel of the memory is shattered by her frantic sob, the raw emotion on her agonised face taking me by surprise.

She'd older now, her hair shorter and a little less auburn. But, she's still as beautiful as ever. There's a small, private need behind the anguish in her eyes and I can't place it. Maybe it's because I don't want to.

"I need you to try to hang on, Chakotay," she shouts, looking away for a moment in a vain attempt to prevent me from seeing the tears starting to tumble down her flushed cheeks.

I croak out her name, trying as much as I can muster to voice a promise to her I know I will not be able to keep. A promise that says I'll keep trying, only for her.

Because even now, in my final moments, it's the truth.

a/n: For those of you who are wondering what this competition is all about, pop over to tumblr. It's a fantastic incentive by one of our fellow JC Lovers to win a hand-made Chakotay Bear. You also don't have to be writing for the opportunity to win - simply just comment on JC fanfic of the authors who are participating and we will nominate your review for the chance town a Bear. (Just make sure we can contact you, we can't nominate guest reviews).

Feel free to flick me a PM if you want more info! :)