Notes: I started rewatching the series last fall and penned this down after watching Resolutions all the way to the end again. MiaCooper did a wonderful story (Open Hand) that works off of the same scene and is monumentally better. However, this is probably my most publishable item right now, so I felt like I should go ahead and publish it.
The dialogue on the bridge is taken directly from the episode, so it and the characters are Paramount's. All other disclaimers apply. And thanks to Kate Mulgrew and Robert Beltran for giving us enough subtle actions and glances to make the basis for a fanfic.
She said it would be like this. I shouldn't be surprised. We spent much of last night talking about what returning to Voyager meant to us, individually and as a couple. She told me that she wouldn't be able to look at me for the first few days. She said it would hurt too much and knew that she would break down in front of the crew. I agreed to it because she needed it, and really, what could I do? But I didn't think it would be this hard. To go from day in and day out of being with her, drinking in the light of her eyes, and watching what I saw there change so that I began to think that maybe I could make her know peace and love too. But now, to be shut out and looked through? In some ways, it makes the loss double, and I feel so alone.
Before we beamed off planet, we had shared one final look at each other. I tried to smile to show her that it would be alright, but her expression registered nothing but longing and pain. Before either of us could cave in to the feelings churning within us, she turned and ordered our transport out. We emerged on the transporter pad to the happy faces of the technicians. With a brief greeting and thanks, the Captain immediately headed to the door and the Bridge. I fell in step behind her and we walked in silence. Every crewmember that saw us pass smiled and welcomed us back. We smiled and nodded in response, but words seemed to stick in both of our throats.
I searched her face as I entered the turbo lift to see how she was faring. She looked straight ahead with unseeing eyes, so I took my regular spot behind her as she called for the Bridge. As the turbo lift reached its destination, I heard a small sigh escape her lips. Fortification? Anticipation? But not the happy contentment that would have been there if this had happened two months ago.
We moved on to the bridge. I took my chair as Kathryn enjoyed accusing Tuvok of being emotional in front of the bridge crew. With warmth, she thanked the crew and ordered warp eight.
"Commander, we'll need to review the ship's systems. I'll handle propulsion, environmental, and communication. " As she took her seat, my peripheral vision picked up the crossing of her legs and the resting of her hands on the ends of the arm rests – her captain's pose, strength and lightness balanced. She had been right. Looking at her was too painful, so I focused on pulling up readouts and reports on the center console.
"You'll be responsible for sensors, weapons, and transporters," she continued.
Was that some hesitancy in her voice? The slightest quiver? As much as I felt it too, I knew that she needed me to be strong. So, with great effort, I replied unaffectedly, "Aye, Captain. I'll have a report to you by 1800 hours."
"Check with phaser maintenance. See if they solved that problem with the prefire chamber temperature."
"Yes, ma'am. I'll see to it."
As we settled into silence, a movement caught my eye, and I realized that she had pulled her left hand back from the front of the armrest. Maybe I imagined it, but it looked like she curled it into a loose fist and was moving her thumb up and down gently, as if she was caressing something. Stopping what I was doing at the console, I brought my right hand back to my armrest and formed a soft fist to match hers, hoping she caught my action and that she understood I would be here for her and be true to my promise. I sat back in my chair, staring ahead at the view screen and the long journey that lay ahead through those stars. She said it would be like this, but somehow, I don't feel quite so alone now.