Author's notes:
Tis I, back once more from the dusty realms. I apologise once again for the gap between posting stories and getting everything back online that was lost, not only do I take a spectacularly long-time agonising over details and half-hearted attempts at research, I spend a lot of my personal time incredibly unwell. This means that weeks can pass between me writing and it slows down my attempts to continue writing as a distraction from the often painful and frustrating real world.
I wanted to do another Chakotay POV story as the last was well received, as before I've kept him as sarcastic and darkly dry as I found his character and this is still my attempt to present a Chakotay that they didn't spend enough time exploring, same can be said for a lot of the characters. Once more I've used the chaotic and often non-sequitur thought process heavily in the writing, so it flows in many directions and I hope the path is not too hard to follow.
The story originally came from a conversation I had about the quick nature of resolution in some plot points of television shows that were simply possibly because it isn't real and how they can go from being falling apart at the seams to all neatly resolved in a matter of seconds. If only life was really as forgiving…
It's a bit of a slow starter so I appreciate anyone powering through this one and as always, I encourage and welcome feedback, I will respond, but as with writing fanfic, it can be a while between me checking in due to personal life but I will get back to you! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read my previous and hopefully those that attempt this mess of a story!
Set in the final season, Neelix is still aboard, Torres is pregnant, none of the C/7 has taken place, obviously A/U with references to episodes "Waking Moments", "Tinker, Tenor, Doctor, Spy", "The Q and the Grey", "Resolutions" and a ton of others really, I can't be bothered to type them all out… oooh and also Janeway's backstory in the Jeri Taylor novel "Mosaic". Spoilers throughout for the whole series but why you'd be reading this rather than finishing watching the series is beyond me.
Contains adult themes, some profane and wonderful language, terrible plot points, horrendous grammar and terrible formatting. There are also so heavy descriptions of depression so I suppose a trigger warning in places could be necessary, let me know if you feel one is needed.
Peace and love to you all.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, never will be. Please don't sue me because I'm seriously poor to the point I'd have to pay you in jammy dodgers and good intentions. Go watch the show and enjoy it and be grateful to the powers that be that are indeed Voyager's keepers.
The Warning
The thing about life and death situations is that there is usually very little warning given to the impending doom. One day you're just going about your daily business, the mundanity that exists between the adrenaline fuelled drama that is our lives here in this floating metal husk, when suddenly without any reasonable warning beyond a red alert if you're lucky, the proverbial rug is pulled from under your feet, sending all unfortunate enough to be stood on it at the time, tumbling unwillingly to the floor.
Such is life apparently, that seems to be the general consensus around these parts, the words usually uttered depressingly more than once a day by some unfortunate soul stuck in this shitty situation along with the rest of us. We've all experienced enough life and death out here in the void of space that we've become somewhat numb to impending doom, it's the shadows of our every step every day here in the Delta Quadrant, not always obvious but there, but so easy to ignore or forget or not notice.
Without life there is no death and vice versa, how can you experience one without the other? You can't, they both are there to appreciate the opposite. Whether to take an important lesson in the fleeting nature of time, of the fragile nature of existence, to the all-out head fuck of what the meaning of it all is, life and death are there to remind us of the fact we're here and we've got no fucking idea why.
I swear the universe hates me.
Somehow, no matter what I do, I seem to be some sort of slow moving target for all the weird and insane shit the universe has to offer. Any time we run into something strange on this gentle meander back home, it's destined to somehow fuck up my day.
Doesn't matter what I do, it happens, to me, frequently.
And today is no exception. I spent over half of my day in sickbay with the Doctor after some sort of prehensile vine decided to re-enact Jack and the Beanstalk starring me, after being hung upside down by my ankles by what can only be described as the plant equivalent of an octopus for the better part of an hour, during which I was barely conscious due to not only the fact that all my blood was then residing in my head, but because of how many times Kathryn attempted to free me by bashing the thing with a rifle butt and missing, repeatedly. She packs one hell of a wallop does that woman.
All we had to do was collect a few samples, we didn't even really have to do that, it was only because Kathryn was starting to exhibit signs of cabin fever and the convenient appearance of an M-Class planet offered a brief respite from the permanent night of our journey. A few plants samples, a bit of alien sun, some fresh alien air and all was supposed to be well, but there never is the case where we're concerned.
Five minutes we lasted before a bush all but rugby tackled me to the ground, wrapped thick vines around my ankles and hoisted me skywards. Had Kathryn mounted a rescue attempt slightly quicker than she did, rather than spending 15 minutes cackling, I probably would have been free long before she had a chance to give me a concussion while using me as a piñata in her effort to rescue me.
Just to top it off, there was some sort of thorn on the vine stems that I'm apparently allergic too, as my ankles looked like they belonged to an elephant and required five rounds of antihistamine hypos before going down.
Have made a mental note to not help Kathryn next time she's stuck, I once rescued her from a prehensile plant, sure cutting off her hair was a bit of an extreme rescue method but it worked and the bangs suited her. Maybe that was her ice-cold revenge after all this time, to leave me dangling like some sort of shit modern art installation while she got her chuckles on.
Thankfully I'm now back in the safety of my quarters and my ears couldn't be happier, the Doctor was practising some new aria that quite frankly sounded like a banshee being strangled by a pissed off cat. Six hours is six hours too many in the Doctors company on days like this. On the upside, I've been given tomorrow off duty just to be sure I'm all good and I intend to take full advantage of the situation, starting with a long lie in, swiftly followed by a day full of nothing. I'm going to do as little as humanly possible and thoroughly enjoy it.
Part of me thinks I should be productive with my time, the rest of me can't be bothered with that shit and believes I have earned the right to a lazy day. We probably all have really by this point, after over six years of this madness it's a miracle no one's nursing a serious breakdown really. There's certainly been times the crew and their Captain have come close but we all seem to continue to pull ourselves up and fight once more even though our brain abandoned ship long ago for calmer shores.
There is something so relaxing about knowing all I must do tomorrow is breathe, the rest I'll make up as I go along. To not have rules and regulations to worry about, even just for one day, it was almost worth the concussion. Almost. I have one of those burrowing headaches that makes your entire face feel like pressurised cooker, I don't know how Kathryn handles the headaches and migraines she puts up with, I feel like my eyes are bulging and my skull is the only thing stopping my brain from exploding out of my skull like a volcano.
Time to disable the programmed wakeup call from the computer and bed, fingers crossed I wake up in the morning.
Even since I began to connect to the realm of spirits, my dreams have been anything but forgetful.
I can still recall now dreams I had as a child and can easily recall the fear and anxiety that my night visions caused.
Sometimes the dreams were surreal and ridiculous as dreams can be, sometimes a dream could hang on for months, returning to my sleeping form over and over.
These dreams are the ones that I usually find are for a specific reason, something I was missing that my subconscious was trying to alert me to, a sign of warning or of opportunity, of solving puzzles my waking mind was too fried to understand. Some have been all out incredibly eerie in their ability to show me a path I couldn't see myself. Dreams for my people, for me, are another spirit communication and to ignore them would not be wise, it took a lot of time and a lot of faith to understand that fully.
This night, my tired and battered brain is residing somewhere I am unsure of.
There is tree, tall and thick with age, it's bark weathered and dark. Around it's tangled roots is the mulch of its life, sodden and mossy, slowly absorbing into the base of the tree. The tree is a remarkable green colour, vibrant and shouting life from the veins of each leaf, standing sturdy and foreboding against a clear blue empty sky.
As I stand and consider the tree, I see high in the branches a bird's nest swaying gently in the light breeze. A small red bird sits on the rim of the nest, a worm wriggling in its beak as it prepares to end its life to fuel another. The bird seems to notice me the very second I notice it, small beady eyes lock onto mine and its feathers ruffle somewhat.
Unsure if I've disturbed this bird and its nest of no doubt small offspring (I cannot see or hear them but what else are nests ultimately for than to support life) waiting for the worm patiently to become their next meal. A small amount of guilt flushes through me as I watch the small bird nervously twitching along the branch to get a closer look at me, as though it's sizing me up from a distance and ready to take flight if it turns out I'm an asshole.
The bird having made its judgement then slowly and gently takes flight from its branch and glides lightly down towards me. It beats its wings and flaps as it seems to suspend itself in the air before me, the red of its feathers flashing in swift movements.
I can feel my hand reaching out towards the bird despite not making a decision to do so and before I can make contact, the bird's beak opens and from where I would expect to hear the warble of a birdsong, instead produces a guttural and human scream. The likes of which I have never heard before in my life. As though all the horrors of the worlds were contained in it's very soul.
The gentle breeze has now picked up into a forceful gust, the leaves of the tree scattering and the nest begins to sway in its branch.
I can smell smoke and within moments it begins to roll towards me within each gust of wind, thick and overwhelming, smothering and reaching.
The bird still screaming extends its wings as though reaching for the heavens and the skies begin to redden and scorch.
And then a buzzer begins to flare loudly.
"Doctor to Chakotay."
As the waking world demands my presence, the dream begins to dissolve and dissipate like a passing rain cloud.
"Doctor to Chakotay, please respond."
With a groan and more than a little tired frustration, I slap my comm badge sitting on the nightstand.
"What is it Doctor?"
"I just wanted to check you were conscious."
Lovely.
"I wasn't and would quite like to go back to not being conscious."
"I'm sorry Commander, it's standard procedure following head injuries, even my skilled medical knowledge can't prevent the odd coma."
It's good to know his ego is intact at all hours.
"Goodnight Doctor."
"Please make sure you contact me if you start experiencing any visual disturbance, nausea or dizziness."
"What if I've fallen into a coma?"
"Then rest assured someone will find you… eventually."
"Thanks… I think... Chakotay out."
Sleep does not return easily to me.
When it finally does, dreams of smoke and screams fill my head.