Title: A Quiet Mind

Author: Megara79

Series: Star Trek: Voyager

Rating: K

Summary: In the aftermath of Unimatrix Zero, Kathryn Janeway struggles to recover for reasons that may not be as clear cut as one would think.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Thanks to: Ewigestudentin, beta extraordinaire!

A/N: Written for VAMBs Secret Drabble 2015 and EydieMunroe who supplied the opening line.

"Another long night?"

She rubbed her temples, looking up at his words. "Is it that obvious?"

"Maybe not to an untrained eye," he offered diplomatically and she smiled at the gesture. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"When have I ever wanted to talk about it?" She looked at him, eyebrows raised in self-deprecation and he chuckled.

Taking a seat in front of her desk he tried a different approach. "At least tell me how you're feeling."

"That's a lot like talking about it."

He shrugged and after a beat she relented, shoulders slumping as she sighed. "I feel like I've been run over by a star ship," she winced. "Or more accurately, a Borg cube."

A tidal wave of nausea hit Chakotay when she mentioned the cube and he could practically taste the bile in his throat, much as he had when he'd entered sickbay a mere week ago.

At the time the Doctor had brusquely informed him that everyone was accounted for. They were stable but critical, and further updates would have to wait until the away team stopped sprouting cybernetic implants.

Chakotay shuddered at the thought and valiantly fought to banish unwanted memories of Kathryn's body distorted and violated by shrapnel, wiring and nanoprobes from his mind.

"At least your colouring's improved," he said, attempting to keep their conversation from descending into darkness."Pasty grey isn't for everyone."

She grinned. "I thought it was the bald head that made you balk when you saw me?"

"I did not balk," he protested.

"Yes you did!" she argued, peals of laughter following her accusation.

The words were out before he could even think to stop them. "In my defence, I thought I'd lost you."

Her laughter died away immediately and Chakotay swore at himself. He was supposed to lighten the mood, not kill it completely.

She swallowed, eyes suspiciously bright. "Next time we find ourselves in a similar situation, remind me that turning into a drone is an experience I don't particularly want to repeat."

"Next time, I'll tie you down and go myself."

He hadn't meant to say it with such force. Frustration tinged each syllable and he looked at her in near desperation. He wanted to explain. To tell her that his anger wasn't with her. Closing his eyes, he reigned in his emotions.

"I'm sorry," he offered when he looked at her again.

She shook her head a little, brushing off his apology. Stretching forward she reached for his hand. He gave it to her and tried to ignore how cold she was. "Let's agree to try and avoid the Borg all together from now on," she said, giving him a little squeeze and he nodded his agreement.

Her eyes drifted to look at their clasped hands, his golden skin creating a soft contrast to her paleness. He stroked his thumb over hers and when her admission came it was barely audible.

"I can't sleep. My mind's too quiet."

He kept stroking her thumb, afraid that if he didn't she'd stop talking.

"Even with the Doctor's inoculation, I could still hear the Collective whispering in my head and it was..." she paused, searching for the right words. She almost looked ashamed when she found them. "It was comforting. All those voices kept my own thoughts at bay."

Thoughts that kept her up at night.

She didn't have to say anymore than that. He understood. Guilt, founded or not, was easier to fend off when your mind was occupied elsewhere and Kathryn had been battling hers for six years now. What a reprieve the Collective must have offered, if only for a short time.

"We'll get through this," he told her, wondering if his promise sounded as hollow as he felt.

"I know," she nodded, letting go of his hand.

But she didn't look convinced.

Chakotay looked at the chronometer and growled in annoyance. It was futile, he decided. Kathryn's insomnia was catching. Throwing his blanket to the side, he got out of bed. Pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats he grabbed the nearest book he could find and entered the living room. He made his way over to the replicator and asked for tea. Eyeing the piece of literature he'd randomly picked up, a sudden impulse struck him.

"Computer, locate Captain Janeway,"

"Captain Janeway is in her quarters," the computer answered.

"Specify."

"Captain Janeway is in her living room."

Forgetting his tea Chakotay headed for the door, book in hand.

He stopped outside her quarters and hesitated. Maybe she'd fallen asleep on the sofa? 'Sure', he immediately thought. 'And maybe Targs can be kept as pets.' He rang the chime and it didn't take long before the door opened.

"What are you doing here?" Kathryn said in surprise when she saw him. "It's two o'clock in the morning." She was in her robe, naked toes curling into the carpet.

"I couldn't sleep, believe it or not."

"Hah," she snorted. "Maybe it's catching." He ducked his head, smiling at having his own thoughts mirrored back at him.

"Maybe," he said as she stepped aside to allow him access to her quarters. "Let's see if we can fix it."

"Fix it?"

Taking her hand in his he headed towards the bedroom. "I'm taking you to bed."

She snorted again. "I beg your pardon?"

He smiled at her and tugged her forward. "Come on."

Entering the darkened bedroom, Chakotay asked for lights on low. Letting go of her hand he walked to the side of the bed that was furthest away and got in. Settling himself on top of her covers he looked back at her expectantly, the book resting in his lap.

Kathryn remained where she was, any sense of levity gone from her features. Silence engulfed the room and Chakoty started to wonder if he'd made a mistake.

"You say it's too quiet," he offered, sotto voce. "Let me be your Collective."

Even though she stood partially clouded in shadows he could see her intake of breath at his offer. Biting her lip she twisted away from him and after a beat her hand came up to quickly wipe across her cheek.

Giving her a moment of privacy he opened the book and started to read. "In the middle of the journey of our life I found myself astray in a dark wood where the straight road had been lost."

"You hate Dante's Inferno," her voice was surprisingly even.

"But you don't."

Her hesitation only lasted another second, and Chakotay sighed in relief as she approached the bed. She took of her robe, leaving her in a plain grey tank and pyjama bottoms. Pushing the covers aside, she climbed in before turning on her side to regard him. "Are you planing on reading all night?"

"For as long as it takes you to fall asleep," he promised.

She smiled and her entire posture seemed to relax.

"We'll get through this," she whispered his words from that morning.

"I know," he replied with utter conviction.

And continued to read.