Disclaimer: ST: VOY isn't mine.
Author's Note: Stretching my angst muscles...
Lachrymose
By mistress amethyst une
Kathryn held his hand, held on tight. Every time he spoke, she winced. He sputtered and coughed but the words rang clear. On his deathbed, he begged for his wife, his deceased wife...Seven. It was almost more than she could bear. He'd forgotten that Seven was gone, killed on an away mission Kathryn had sent her on.
"I have to tell her something," he pleaded weakly.
"You can tell me," she reassured him. "I'll deliver the message for you."
He gripped her hand tighter as tremors sent shocks through his body, cries of pain tearing themselves from his throat.
"Can't tell you," he gasped. "You can't know."
"You can tell me anything. You know that. Please..."
"You'll...ARGH!"
He shook more violently, the pathogen attacking his nervous system with a vengeance. Out of breath, he gulped down as much air as he could. His time was coming soon.
"You'll hate me," he panted.
"I could never hate you," she gulped, trying to keep the lump in her throat down. It was a half-truth. She couldn't hate him now because she already hated him, hated him for doing this to her, hated him for asking for her to be at his deathbed just so she could hear him cry his dead wife's name.
"No...you don't understand. Seven...ARGH!"
The jolts of pain were intensifying. It wouldn't be long now.
"Seven needs to know," he continued lamely, each breath a chore. "Needs to know..."
"I'll let her know," she lied, wanting so desperately to ease her friend's burden. He was in agony, and what he wanted to tell Seven was only contributing to his anguish. She wanted him to at least die in peace.
"She accused me of..."
He found himself struggling to breathe again, unable to stop gasping, swallowing gulps of air to no avail.
"...not loving her. She wants to leave me but I..."
He screamed as yet another shock rocked his body.
"I don't want her to go! Desperate...want her to stay. Need her but-"
He found himself closing his mouth tight, biting his tongue, trying to control the tremors.
"...all the wrong reasons. She was right. I didn't take care of her, Kathryn!"
Tears streamed down his face, the pain now unbearable.
"Tell her she was right. Tell her she's free," he told her, squeezing her hand. "Tell her for me."
The next tremor seized his life. Kathryn finally let herself burst into tears.
Yeah, I do way too many of these deathbed confessions...