Trigger Warning; This story touches upon body image issues/ eating disorders / PTSD
Observing her eating habits had become a ritual since returning to earth.
Finishing half a plate of food was a struggle for her and some days he was sure she skipped meals entirely. At first he determined it was due to her dietary restrictions while on Voyager, she lived on mostly coffee and replicated food. Chakotay knew at least she'd have a proper meal when they had their nightly dinners, but now living with her the extent of her lack of food intake was blatant. What worried him was that she was doing it on purpose now whereas in the Delta Quadrant it was mostly because he mind was constantly occupied with her duties as Captain.
Whenever they ate together she was becoming an expert at covering her tracks. Food would constantly be moved around her plate, or would be cut up into tiny pieces that she would pick up with her fork and then discreetly place back down. She would speak idly about things and distract him or whoever was there away from the food she wasn't eating. What was strange was that she'd never spoken about any issues with her body to him, nor was she particularly vain. In fact when it came to her physical appearance she showed confidence in the way she carried herself both in public and in their private life.
It was after they'd made love one night and he'd moved to spoon her from behind that her actual size has spiked concern within him. She felt frail in his arms and he was almost frightened he would break her bones if he held her to tightly. Kathryn had always been small but never what he'd consider under weight; until now. After she'd fallen asleep that night he'd pulled himself away so she was lying flat on her back next to him and studied her appearance properly. The sheet was covering up to her collar bone which he noticed was pultruding out much more than was normal. Her cheeks were hollow and there were dark circles under her eyes; she looked ill.
"Chakotay?" Her raspy voice broke through his thoughts, "have I got something on my face?"
Snapping his attention back into reality he shook his head. They were sat in their small dining room on opposite sides of the table, same as always. She smiles tentivly at him and even though he's worried he cant help but return it.
"Sorry, I was just thinking, I didn't realise I was staring," he replies glancing down at her mostly untouched bowl of soup and bread, then comparing it to his own finished one. "Would you like something else to eat?" He asks and motions down to her bowl.
Kathryn looks down at her bowl and plays with her spoon for a second before plopping it down making a small splash, "It's ok I think I'm just to tired to eat anymore tonight."
"Anymore? You've barely had three spoonfulls," he says incredulously.
"I had quite a large meal at head quarters," she replies quickly "I swear my new aid is trying to bribe me with food," she laughs and shakes her head but he can see through the lie.
"I highly doubt that," he mutters under his breath but is clear from her hurt expression that she's heard him. He hopes she calls him out on it and they can finally discuss the issue, instead she moves to stand up. He watches and takes in how her clothes hang from her tiny frame.
"I think Tom and B'elanna want us to baby sit Miral again in a week," She says in an obvious attempt to change the subject while collecting their bowls.
"Kathryn please eat something," he says and looks up at her from his seat, his eyes pleading with her to listen. She frowns but dips her head down as if she's embarrassed.
"I'm not hungry," she mumbles in a low octave tone.
"Tell me what's wrong," he pleads and moves to stand in front of her. She'd taken her shoes off after returning home and without the slight heel he was considerably taller than her.
"I'm fine," she answers quietly still refusing to look up, so he takes the bowl from her and places it back on the table so he can hold her hands gently.
"I hate that word," he says and she looks up at him with tears in her grey eyes.
"I don't know what's wrong with me, Chakotay," finally he feels the wall around her being torn down, " I'm not trying to loose weight, I don't hate the way I look, it's just..." She falters and finally when she blinks the tears fall freely. He lets go of her hands so he can wipe them away and she blushes.
"Being stuck in the Delta Quadrant I felt as if I lost a part of myself." She sniffs but he remains silent, wanting her to get out whatever she'd been holding in. "I had all these rules I had to follow and I had to act like I was in control but in reality everything was chaos."
Kathryn shifts and he takes the opportunity to pull her into his embrace. He's scared for a second he's hurting her tiny frame but she grips onto him with determination.
"Then we got back and I thought my life was finally back in my hands but," she grimaces as she continues and it's clear she'd having an internal debate whether to reveal something to him, but ultimately they are always honest with each other, "You'd moved on with Seven before I could tell you how I felt , my crew were scattering everywhere and I just felt out of control all over again, I needed something to focus on, something to-
"Control," he finishes for her and she nods into his chest.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks gently, his chin resting on a bony shoulder. He's angry with himself for not realising anything was wrong sooner. The Doctor had mentioned once that Kathryn suffered from PTSD, but when he's asked her she'd brushed it off as nothing.
"Because it's humiliating and I don't understand it myself," she admits.
He wants to tell her it's not humiliating, that she's human and they all have flaws. He wants to take all the pain away and make her see what a wonderful person she is, that she is in control of her own life. But he knows right now words like that will sound empty and patronising.
"We'll get through this," he tells her simply and he means it.