A short J/C fic I wrote immediately after watching the Series Finale. I was gutted.
First time posting this (I think!). I thought I'd put up here after a discussion I had with Dozi199 regarding a review she left on my SG-1 story and rewatching some key episodes in the J/C ship (S4 Hunters). Here's the quote that struck me as being parallel to that of Sam/Jack on SG-1 (S7 Grace):
JANEWAY: It's all right. You can say it. On top of all that, I got a Dear John letter. It wasn't really a surprise. I guess I didn't really expect him to wait for me considering the circumstances. It made me realise that I was using him as a safety net, you know, as a way to avoid becoming involved with someone else.
CHAKOTAY: You don't have that safety net any more.
WHAT HURTS MOST
Once upon a time I used to love the very air she breathed.
While Tom and B'Elanna cracked jokes about her inability to fit in I made excuses for her.
I told them they didn't know her and to give her a chance. If they'd spent enough time with her they would see what I saw. I made her part of the team, a part of the family.
I should have known Seven would never play fair. She wasn't team material. Like the damned collective she used to belong to, she assimilated those around her and left devastation in her wake.
I know. I sound bitter. But not for the reasons you might think.
I'm not a scorned or jealous lover smarting from her brand of rejection.
I'm not even infatuated with her any more. Like a good boy I listened to my best friend and didn't get involved; kept my heart in my chest. I just wished that Tom had given that advice to Chakotay, Mr. Part-of-the-team himself.
But Tom can't take all the blame. Who would have thought Chakotay's heart would someday be owned by Seven? Who would have thought that Chakotay, who was so in love with the Captain, would turn around and get involved with the Captain's protegée?
None of us did. Which was probably why, when I found out, it felt like someone had rammed a spanner down my throat. My pain was only superseded by the look on Captain Janeway's face.
She didn't display the typical reaction of a woman who just had her heart ripped out. She wasn't bleeding tears or looking devastated. She didn't walk out, which she had every right to, and sulk in her ready room. Kathryn Janeway was too much of a professional for that.
What she did hurt more.
She smiled graciously, spoke to Seven at length about the mundane things, patted Chakotay on the shoulder as if his very presence wasn't slowly eviscerating her.
I don't know how she did it, mingling with the crew and smiling at Chakotay and Seven looking like all the world like a neutral bystander.
At some point I knew that she was flagging when her carefully guarded expression slipped for a moment and I saw the anguish on her face.
She'd been literally staring out into space while the Doctor regaled the bored crowd with holo-images of the past seven years. The Captain had wandered away from the crowd, a feat in such a confined place. My eyes had followed her surreptitiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of her reaction to this madness. She didn't disappoint.
In that brief moment while she stared out into space, I saw Kathryn Janeway exposed for the woman she is. Gone was the veneer of command and here was this woman who had feelings like the rest of us.
I tended to forget that she was flesh and blood. In my myopic view of the universe that was Voyager, I rarely saw her as a woman, but as our stalwart leader who would do her damnedest to get us home. She wore authority so well that it had become second nature to see that rather than the person beneath.
We all knew it existed. Captain Janeway wasn't as rigid as she sounded or wanted to be. She was actually a warm person; funny with a wicked sense of humour. She was far from perfect, but she'd learned to acknowledge this. She kept close to the crew, but at the same time held a distinction from the rest of us that couldn't be denied.
Her warmth was more evident in Chakotay's presence and, to some extent, Seven's. They were the two people with whom the Captain really bonded on this ship, the only people who she allowed to and frequently challenged her. It was ironic that those she considered closest to her would be the ones to plunge the knife, so thoroughly and deeply, where it would wreck the most damage.
Chakotay had walked in with Seven on his arm. It didn't take a Betazoid to figure that something was up with those two. Seven looked different and Chakotay had that smile on his face.
The moment I spotted them from across the room, my gaze had shot from the happy couple straight to the Captain - and what I saw there would literally change my life.
The grim acceptance that had suffused her face. I'll never forget it. The resolution in her eyes as she prepared herself for the biggest act of her life was simply heartbreaking.
I don't know how to describe it better. I've never been eloquent, and I regret that because I sorely wanted to say something to Chakotay.
I wanted to yell and hurl profanities at him. Demand to know how he could do this to the Captain who had done so much for us. I wanted to kill him for hurting her so badly. For taking away the only thing she thought she had to fall back on in this godforsaken quadrant. For taking away the light in her eyes and replacing it with a mask of serenity which really was synonymous with the death of her hopes and dreams. I wanted to kill him for killing the light in her eyes.
Once upon a time I used to love Seven, used to worship the decks and the planets she walked on. More than once and plenty of times after that, she'd broken my heart only for it to be revived again.
This time, there's no fixing it.
It's been a while with J/C. But it still hurts =(
