Author's Note: Lately, my writing has been a little bit like the 7th season episode, "Shattered" – there are fractures all over the place. New ideas keep splintering off like eddies in time, shifting from one plotline to another. Although I plan to post this story a little bit each day, it is actually completed – a first for me these days! It's set about three years after Voyager has returned home – slightly in keeping with the relaunch novels. And yes, Chakotay does get roughed up – all the better to smooth him out!


He no longer struggled when the cold touch of the hypospray pressed against his neck. And yet, he tensed as the contents hissed into his skin, muscles tightening, arms and legs growing stiff. The familiar warmth spread through his body, along his ears, under his arms, into his chest, the pit of his stomach, his groin and buttocks, the backs of his knees, the soles of his feet. He stretched on the hard floor and trembled at the pleasurable sensation; it was almost sexual in its intensity, and he groaned as it washed over him, welcomed his release when it came.

The drug pulsed through his bloodstream and touched off a seizure in his brain. He jerked uncontrollably, growing hot, then cold, with each convulsion. Tears trailed from tightly closed eyes; beads of perspiration covered his naked body. He wet himself, warm urine puddling under his hips and thighs. And then, as the convulsions eased, he felt the cramping in his stomach, and he managed to twist onto his side and vomit, dry bile-producing heaves that seemed to last forever.

But they didn't.

And his clouded mind knew that they wouldn't.

He was cold, but he would be warm again. He shoved his hands, balled into tight fists, between his legs and curled into a fetal position. He would be still for now, and the dark haze in his mind would lighten. And he would be home - on Voyager.

He moaned as the image of Kathryn drifted through his mind. And then he was quiet, floating in a dazed semi-consciousness.

And even though he didn't sleep, he dreamed.

She sat beside him, nestled in his embrace, the candlelight glowing in the golden auburn strands of her hair. Her blue eyes glinted, and her voice was low. The words she spoke were only for him.

Gently, he ran his fingers through her hair, bending her head back slightly, lowering his lips to hers. The kiss was tender and soft, and she was warm in his arms.

And he was not alone.

He opened his eyes and whimpered. The dream was gone. She was gone. The warmth he'd felt in her presence, in the candlelight, was quickly fading.

He drew his legs closer to his chest and rocked on the filth-covered floor. The guard would come again soon, bringing the hypospray. And the warmth would return.

Until then, he waited, crying softly in the darkness.

~vVv~