A/N: Disclaimer - Paramount owns all and all that jazz... This story contains a character death, (you have been warned) and I'd be very grateful if you could leave a review. Thanks VFF

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BLUE

What'll I do? When you are far away. And I am blue. What'll I do?

(Nat King Cole)

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Chapter One

"This sad news confirmed at 1900 hours last night comes just eighteen months after the couple confirmed their relationship and were married in a private ceremony, and just a little over three years since the USS Voyager made it back to Earth. Sources say there will be a memorial service at Starfleet Headquarters, although as yet no date has been officially released.

This is Laura Trevelyan reporting for CNN broadcast news."

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Tom Paris closed the monitor and moved his head to rest in his hands. A moment later, he heard footsteps and felt B'Elanna's firm touch on his shoulders, they said nothing, words were insufficient for the magnitude of the loss. Instead he turned around and pulled her into a tight embrace, her head resting against his shoulder. After a while, she pulled back to look at him with uncharacteristic tears in her eyes and firmly squeezed his hand.

"You've got a bag to pack Flyboy."

He opened his mouth, but she pressed her finger to his lips. "I know Tom, but we'll be fine. You need to do this, for him; for them."

He nodded in return, wordlessly rising from his chair and heading into their bedroom, she heard him shower and then the sound of drawers opening and closing.

"Don't forget the letter," she called and then smiled a little as just his hand appeared in the doorway waving a PADD.

The chiming of their console signalled an incoming call and demanded her attention, until he returned to the lounge, a navy blue holdall slung over one shoulder packed and ready to go, he looked at her uncertainly.

"Do you think it's too soon B'Elanna? What if the family are still there?"

She shook her head, indicating the console. "That was Gretchen. Since she left the hospital last night, no-one has seen her. She's dodging all calls and Comm messages and they haven't been able to gain access to the apartment or the house."

Tom sighed heavily. "Has Starfleet scanned the compound for her life-signs?"

B'Elanna shrugged. "If they have they won't tell the family; you know that. Gretchen and Phoebe are frantic with worry."

His resolve strengthened, he looked up at her and nodded, his eyes memorising his wife's face.

To Tom,

If you are reading this, then the inevitable has happened and for that I am sad. Sad to leave you, my friends and my family, but in the knowledge that for reasons the Universe has decided, it is my time. My people are a spiritual one, so think of this as so-long Tom and not goodbye. We spoke at length about the requests that I have made and I ask only that you do your best, it will be enough and is appreciated more than any words can ever say.

I know that I could not leave this, and her, in any safer hands.

In this PADD, you will find access and security codes for the apartment and the house, I have little doubt that you will need to use them and you may do so with my blessing. There is a legal memoranda allowing you access to both residences in case you run into any trouble with the law (my best attempt at a Captain Proton phrase!) There is also a letter for Kathryn that I ask that you give her when you feel the time is right.

Kathryn will push you away Tom, she'll resist the intrusion, but she'll need the good friend that you've always been - stick with her and she'll come out the other side, I promise. You have my greatest respect and it was an honour to serve alongside you.

Your friend, Chakotay

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tom was suddenly grateful that he was on a private transport. When their former Commander had first become ill, he had greatly surprised Tom by asking him for his help, especially given the somewhat turbulent nature of their friendship. Difficult as it was, they had spoken at length, his wishes had been logged with Starfleet and their lawyers; the only person who hadn't wanted to be involved was Kathryn, and her denial had come as a surprise to Tom. He had watched her skim read the documents and then sign a waiver agreeing to everything, citing pressure of work as as an excuse for her continued absence. Chakotay had never pressured her to get involved further, clearly understanding something that none of them did. Tom wondered if that would make his task easier, he didn't think it could get much harder and closed eyes heavy with grief, as the shuttle flew on.

He was dropped off in a side street adjacent to the Starfleet accommodation where Chakotay and Kathryn owned an apartment, they lived here on and off during the week for convenience, their main home being a beautiful house further North set on the shores of a vast lake. They always spent the week-ends and holidays there and B'Elanna and he had visited often, spending many happy hours watching Miral splash about in the shallow, clear waters. He had accompanied Chakotay on a few fishing trips too, although had never caught much, Chakotay having by far the greater amount of patience.

Now as he approached the dove grey apartment block, he reflected on the fact that he had only ever visited their San Francisco home briefly, usually to collect or drop off work. Once or twice, he had given Kathryn a ride back from theirs or an evening function. The building was subtly modern, nestled in one corner of the compound, flanked by rows of sycamore trees on either side and if memory served, their place was on the third floor. He vaguely recalled a pale blue door and a light spacious lounge with windows overlooking neatly manicured rear gardens. Heading purposefully down the main path, two uniformed Starfleet Security Officers were standing directly ahead of him, discretely moving on a crowd of around half a dozen people, his heart sank as they approached him.

"My apologies Lieutenant, but we are restricting access to this area for now."

The Officer who spoke was a sandy haired, tall man in his early thirties and he smiled at Tom a little cautiously.

Tom cleared his throat, "Actually, I'm here to visit a friend. Apartment 309?"

The Officer shot a quick sideways glance at his counterpart, a shorter, stocky dark haired man with wide set eyes and a more serious expression. "309?"

"Yes, is there a problem?"

"If you would walk with us Sir, we'd appreciate it."

The three of them started towards the entrance to the block, through the now rapidly thinning crowd. Just inside the main door, the tall Officer stopped and, looking first left and then right, spoke in low tones.

"We were actually called to 309 Sir, reports of a disturbance and breaking glass."

Tom felt slightly sick as he Officer continued. "We were just waiting for our CO to use his master code to gain entry, we've got a medical team on standby."

He shot a glance over Tom's shoulder. "As a matter of fact, that's him now."

A square shouldered, older man, with hair that was largely grey save for darker patches around the base of his neck, approached them quickly and introduced himself as Lieutenant Harris, deputy head of Starfleet Accommodation Security. He had a crushing handshake; Tom seized the opportunity and spoke quickly.

"Lieutenant, I'd appreciate your help actually. I'm a close friend of Admiral Janeway."

Lieutenant Harris' scanned his face and Tom saw the recognition in his eyes, most days he disliked being identified, but today it was going to serve to his advantage. Tom proceeded to steer the man away from the prying eyes and ears of his junior Officers and explained the situation carefully to him, leaving out as much of the detail as he possibly could.

"...I'm happy for your Officers to remain, but I'd like to go and check on the Admiral personally. I'm sure there's no cause for alarm."

Lieutenant Harris relaxed his facial muscles, Tom's fictitious account of events no doubt preferable to his Officers' version of what they suspected was occurring and in an Admiral's apartment to boot. He had no wish to force entry, deciding that Tom was welcome to manage whatever this was and despite his best efforts, a note of relief crept into his voice.

"Of course, Lieutenant, I'm sure we can accommodate that. I was...sorry to hear about Captain Chakotay." He looked slightly uneasy. "I don't suppose you have some sort of authorisation?"

Tom smiled broadly. "Absolutely." He passed over a PADD and Harris smiled. "My Officers will escort you and remain outside, just in case."

In less than a minute, the three of them stood outside their door, and wondering exactly what Kathryn would say if she was standing on the other side, Tom entered Chakotay's access code. As the door slid open obediently, he could feel two pairs of eyes upon him.

"I'll be right out gentlemen."

And with a slightly forced smile, he stepped inside. The apartment appeared empty and was eerily silent, but a quick glance revealed why there had been reports of a disturbance. The lounge was dim and warm; the curtains closed. Stepping forward he found his feet crunching on a dense carpet of broken glass and he looked down to see that the majority of the contents of their substantial glassware and kitchen cupboards appeared to have been smashed. Suddenly, he felt an urgent need to find out if Kathryn was home and, after calling her name, headed through the lounge into the dining room before walking back to check the guest suite and the bathrooms all of which were empty.

That only left the master bedroom, with some trepidation, he tapped on the door and hearing no reply, pressed the door release cautiously.

The first thing that assaulted his senses was a strong smell of stale alcohol. The bedroom was even darker than the rest of the place and his eyes adjusted slowly as his gaze swept around the room. His first step caused him to trip over a half empty bottle turning his ankle in the process and he cursed as he righted himself against a nearby set of drawers. Peering further through the gloom, Kathryn's diminutive figure came into view, in the far corner slumped on the floor, her head and shoulders half resting against the wardrobe.

Heart pounding in his ears, in three long strides he was beside her.

He touched her arm gently as he called her name, but there was no response. She had passed out and looked like hell. Her eyelids red and blotchy, pale cheeks streaked with tears that had smudged her mascara into dark bruise like fingerprints. Biting his lip, he brushed strands of wayward hair from her face as gently he laid her down and turned her onto one side. She was warm to the touch and had a steady pulse; her breathing regular, if deeper than usual. Satisfied that she appeared uninjured, he removed the empty glass still clasped in her hand before jogging back through the lounge and to the front door. Two curious faces greeted him as it opened.

"As I thought gentleman, the Admiral knocked over a whole pile of dishes in the kitchen which made the noise. She sends her sincere apologies for the trouble caused."

The dark haired Officer looked uneasy. "We really should hear that from her Sir."

Tom took a breath. "The Admiral is resting now and I'd rather not disturb her again, as you know, she's been through a great deal. Perhaps you could tell Lieutenant Harris that she will check in with him first thing tomorrow?"

The Officer hesitated briefly and his sandy haired counterpart cut in. "I'm sure we could Sir."

Grateful to have bought some time at least, Tom thanked them sincerely before allowing the door to close. He glanced around the room again. "Computer reset environmental controls and lighting."

And with that, he grabbed his Medkit from his duffle bag and headed back to the bedroom.

Kathryn was motionless. He ran his tricorder over her and sighed when he saw a blood alcohol reading of 0.30%. She was predictably very dehydrated and hadn't eaten in approximately twenty-two hours. He cleared a space on the master bed, arranging some of the throw pillows to keep her propped onto her side. Bending down, he carefully took her head in the crook of his arm, placing his other arm underneath her knees and lifted her into his arms, she seemed a few kilos too light, her face definitely a little gaunt he thought sadly. He had watched Chakotay's illness take its toll, they had tried - coaxing her to eat at first and then boldly ordering take-out to be delivered to the Hospital, but however much they had all pleaded that she take care of herself, it had fallen on deaf ears.

As he set her down, to his surprise she moaned slightly and her eyes flickered.

"Cha….ko...tay?" Her voice was barely a whisper, but he heard his friend's name. He swallowed hard and took her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers.

"No it's Tom. You're okay Kathryn, try and get some sleep."

She closed her eyes again, but not before he saw a solitary tear slide down her cheek.

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Tom sat on the soft floor, in the corner of the room, his back against a chest of drawers, hugging his knees; watching her sleep for a while. Totally lost in his own grief, for him as well as for her. Finally, a recurring noise caught his attention and he realised that it was the repeating chime of an incoming Comm message, getting up stiffly, he ran his hands through his hair and headed to the closest console. It was Gretchen and he pushed aside empty glasses and a Whiskey bottle from the table as he eased himself into a dining chair.

Kathryn's mother's pale face appeared on the screen, her voice full of obvious relief. "Tom, I'm just so glad to see you."

He winced. "I'm sorry Gretchen, I was about to call."

She waved his apology away with her hand in a gesture highly reminiscent of Kathryn's. "Oh Tom, don't apologise, I was just calling on the off chance, I've tried to call every hour since Chakotay died. Just to let her know that she's not alone."

She paused to dab at her bright eyes. "How is she Tom?"

He sighed and shook his head slightly. "I've not really had a chance to…." Tailing off unhappily, his voice faltered and Gretchen managed a brave smile. "It's okay Tom, you don't need to sugar coat anything for me. Janeway women are built to take the truth remember? Just how much has she had to drink?"

He winced at the bluntness of the question, embarrassed on Kathryn's behalf. "A lot, I'd say. She's out cold. It looks like she's been drinking Whiskey on an empty stomach, I'm going to give her something to counter the effects and help with the dehydration and then let her sleep it off."

Gretchen nodded. "Thanks doesn't really cover it Tom. I'm sorry she won't let us in, for what it's worth I think you were an excellent choice. Chakotay certainly knew my daughter."

He smiled. "There's no need Gretchen, Kathryn means a lot to all of us."

"I know Tom, can I call each day? You needn't answer if it's not convenient."

"You can call as often as you like, I'll keep in touch."

He ended the call with a heavy heart, sending a quick message to B'Elanna before trying to get some rest. Something told him that it was going to be a long night.