Title: Free
Author: Singing Violin
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Rating: T
Summary: Mark's thoughts while composing the letter Kathryn reads in "Hunters."
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Author's Note: Sorry for the momentary delay on my continuing longfics. I will get back to them shortly. This one's for Hestia and anyone else who can never forgive Chakotay for C7, and thinks Janeway deserves better.

"Hey, you never bother me. Except the way I like to be bothered."

Those were the last words I heard from the love of my life before she disappeared.

I am about to prove her statement false.

Kathryn Janeway is a force to be reckoned with. It wasn't easy to win her love, and when I finally had her in my arms, I was the luckiest man in the galaxy. She is so brilliant, so beautiful, so compassionate. The way she took care of me and of her dog showed me that she would, one day, be a great mother. That is, if she wanted to. And I hoped very much she would want to one day! I couldn't imagine raising anyone's children but hers. And she deserves to have the family she desires. She's given so much: to me, and to Starfleet, and to so many others. She deserves the best.

When I heard that Voyager had disappeared, I held out hope for quite some time. I'd feel it if she were dead, wouldn't I? Everyone always says they know when someone they love has died. Kathryn would laugh at the idea, I'm sure…her scientific mind will accept no silly notions with no factual basis. But when I beheld her for the first time, I believed in magic, because I felt it in my soul.

It was when Molly gave birth that I lost it. I saw those newborn puppies, and thought of the children we would never have, and I cried…I don't know for how long. Days, I think. But somehow, I still didn't accept that she was dead. Just that I wasn't going to see her for a while. It was hard not to go to the comm and try to raise her signal as I had so many times before. It felt like she was still there with me, even though she wasn't. The magic of Kathryn Janeway, protecting me even in her absence…

I joined a support group for those of us who were left behind. I saw many of the others fall in love, leave, let go. I couldn't do it. Even if I wanted to move on, Kathryn Janeway is unique. There will never be another woman who can live up to the standards she set. And honestly, I'm not really interested in looking. My wife-to-be is not to be replaced, ever. Just because we can't be together doesn't mean she hasn't possessed my heart forever.

Every night she comes to me in my dreams. I kiss her on the neck, just the way she likes, and she moans in ecstasy as we make love. And every morning, I wake up and find her absent, and I imagine she's just left early for work.

If only she'd ever had a day job where she could come home for dinner…the truth is, even when I had her, it wasn't for very long at a time. She was always off on missions, gone for months at a stretch. This was just a…longer absence than usual.

She'd come back…wouldn't she?

Four years after that fateful day when she told me I never bothered her, I found out for certain what my heart had known all along. How could I have ever doubted it? She was alive. I rejoiced. But she was still so far from home.

I thought about her situation. How, as captain, she would not be able to get close to her crew, not even with a ship full of people stranded halfway across the galaxy. She never did, and I had no doubt she would remain professional. She had to. And I thought about how, halfway across the galaxy, with no other human beings to turn to, they must be facing horrible hardships. I heard many of them had died.

I was so worried about her. Not for her physical safety, of course…she is the most capable starship captain I have ever met. But for her emotional well-being. Voyager never had a counselor. They didn't even have a proper physician anymore, just some emergency medical hologram who probably knew nothing of psychology. My Kathryn is a rock when she needs to be, but she's human. I've seen her cry, and I've seen her in pain. She's not indestructible.

I wish so much that I could be there to hug her after her tougher missions, to kiss her and make her forget her troubles. But I can't.

Suddenly I know what I must do.

I write her a letter.

I tell her about Molly and the puppies, and how I found homes for all of them. I know that will make her smile. And then I tell her that I held out hope much longer than anyone else…this is also the truth. In fact, I am still holding out hope…but I can't let her know that. I can't have her waiting for me. If she needs a shoulder to lean on, I'm sure there are many available to her on that ship. But she won't let them help if she thinks she's being unfaithful to me.

I also tell her about a colleague of mine, with whom I've developed a friendship. She lost someone too. We are not in love. Neither of us wants another relationship, not now, and not for the future. But for the sake of the letter to Kathryn, we are married and planning a life together.

It breaks my heart to lie to the woman I love, and I don't even know if she'll get the letter, but I have to try.

I want her to be free. I want her to be free to fall in love with someone else. I want her to be happy. I love her too much to wish the pain of loneliness upon her. I will continue to hug her dog and dream of her every night. She is with me. But I have an easy life too; I am on Earth, surrounded by friends and family.

She is alone…except for her crew. She needs to let them help her. And she won't, as long as she thinks I'm waiting for her, expecting her to come home having been faithful for as long as it takes.

I can't let her torture herself like that. I want her to be touched, to be hugged, to be kissed. To be loved.

I know it will hurt her to read the letter, if she hasn't already moved on…and if I know my Kathryn, she hasn't. But hopefully, after she reads it, she will have a good cry on someone's shoulder, and maybe kiss him…or her…and realize that life can go on, that she can be a human being as well as a captain.

I hope to God I'm doing the right thing.

I press 'send.' And then I cry.