Disclaimer: I don't own any of them.
Author's Note: This is an additional scene to the episode Persistence of Vision, if you haven't seen it in a while you might want to re-watch it or read the episode summary on Memory Alpha. It's not a terribly original story idea, but hopefully it's at least somewhat enjoyable. Any and all critiques and commentary are welcome. Critiques are particularly encouraged. :)
And mad props and thanks to firstdown who is an amazing beta (seriously, really helpful and super nice).
Edit: So, I was a little too eager to post this fic and there were still quite a few errors in it. A huge thank you to Singing Violin (who, coincidentally writes amazing stories - and if you want good Voyager fic, look her up, for real) for pointing out some mistakes to me. As of this edit I believe I have caught them all, but you know, this is my first story in a while. Please continue to point things out to me if you guys notice them! (And I swear, in future I will try to make sure a fic is really ready to go before I post)
Chakotay's Persistence of Vision
Chakotay entered the turbolift intent on reaching engineering, before B'elanna fell prey to whatever was affecting the crew. Before he fell prey to whatever was happening…
"Engineering," he barked at the turbolift, feeling impatience dance through his veins as the doors started to slide shut.
"Hold that!" he heard a familiar voice call out. He caught the doors from shutting just in time and Kathryn jogged into the lift beside him.
"Lieutenant Paris has also fallen under whatever this spell is," she told him, her arms gesturing quickly while she spoke, accentuating her frustration. "I think our best bet at this point is to get to engineering and help B'Elanna try to create the symmetric warp field to block this ... whatever this is."
She paced back and forth in agitation as she spoke. Her hands going through the motions he was so familiar with. One hand would rest on a hip, the other coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose as she blew out a noisy breath of frustration.
"Perhaps if we stay together we can help each other stay focused and not get waylaid by this... whatever this is," she continued.
"Agreed," he said simply. He opened his mouth to add more but the ship shook violently. Thankfully he'd been leaning against one wall of the turbolift and was able to brace his arms to keep his balance. Kathryn, in the midst of pacing, was flung against a wall of the lift, ending sprawled across the floor, too still.
"Damn," Chakotay swore as he crawled over to where she lay. Her hair had been shaken loose from its bun and was splayed about her head like a halo.
"Kathryn, Kathryn." He shook her gently to no response.
Her head was turned, and some hair covered the side of her face, matted with blood.
He swore again loudly as he observed the large gash decorating part of her forehead.
"Come on, Kathryn," he whispered softly.
He stroked her cheeks, then laid her head back down on the floor and ran his hands gently over the rest of her body, searching for other injuries. Though he had imagined running his hands over her lithe body this particular scenario had never been one of his fantasies.
Finding no other injuries he tried tapping his combadge. "Chakotay to sickbay." A fizzle was his only response. He sighed heavily. "Of course." He stood slowly and made his way to the doors.
"Computer, open the turbolift doors."
He felt his frustration level rise at the lack of response. He placed his hands against the doors, breathing in deeply before pressing as hard as he could, trying to pull the doors apart to no avail. He glanced back down to where Kathryn still lay sprawled across the floor and decided to make taking care of her wound his first priority.
He resettled himself on the floor, lifting her head to cradle it in his lap. "You're going to be okay, Kathryn," he said, running a hand along her cheek. "You're going to be okay."
He began working to tear off part of his left sleeve. The fabric was well-made, but he used his teeth, gripping the material in his mouth and yanking hard until he had worked free a good-sized strip of fabric. He took a good deal of time wetting the fabric in his mouth.
He began to cleanse the gash on her head and found it wasn't actively bleeding anymore, which he took to be a good sign. He didn't bother attempting to clean her hair with his spit, instead he merely tried to get an idea of how large and deep the wound was.
It didn't seem too bad to him, but no head wound was a good thing. He sighed again, "Come on, Kathryn. I really need you here with me."
A moment later, as if responding to his plea, Kathryn let out a low moan, moving her body listlessly.
"Chakotay," she said, her voice small and unsteady, one of her hands moving up toward his face.
He grasped her hand in his. "Kathryn, I'm here. Don't move too much, you hit your head pretty bad."
"What happened? Where are we?"
"We're stuck in the turbolift. I'm not sure what happened. Our combadges aren't working, the computer isn't responding and I couldn't get the doors open."
"Damn. I don't think I'll be able to move just yet. You'll have to leave me here and get down to engineering. We need to find out what's going on in the ship."
"Kathryn, I don't feel comfortable leaving you here. You've got a nasty head wound."
"Commander," she said, infusing her voice with a hint of steel. She turned her head very slowly and carefully against his lap, so her eyes met his. "It's imperative that you get down to engineering. You have to find out what's going on and restore power, then you can beam me to sickbay."
"Damn your logic," Chakotay said as he moved Kathryn's head from his lap. He grasped her shoulders and helped to move her so she was resting against the wall of the turbolift. Kathryn winced and hissed, breathing in sharp breaths. "I'll contact you as soon as I get the combadges working again."
"Good, now go," she said.
Chakotay bent down and opened the access panel containing rungs to reach the top of the lift. As he slid his foot into the bottom rung, the lift shook viciously again, and they descended into darkness. Chakotay stumbled, his back slamming into the opposite wall. Kathryn cried out as her body was thrown forward.
Once Chakotay regained his balance he dropped down to his knees to find Kathryn. The turbolift was pitch black, but he didn't have a lot of space to cover. He ignored his bruised back as he carefully felt forward with his hands.
He grasped one of her legs in the dark. "Kathryn, are you all right? Kathryn, talk to me," he pleaded, using his hands to feel his way gently up her body. A pitiful moan was all he got in response. He felt along to her shoulders and settled his body cross-legged beside her.
He wished to hell that he could see, to evaluate how badly hurt she was. "Kathryn, talk to me. I need you to talk to me." He was worried she might have a concussion.
"I'm okay," Kathryn said. "Or at least, I'm no worse for the wear."
Hoping against hope, Chakotay tried tapping his combadge again. "Chakotay to sickbay." As expected he received the same static response as before. "Dammit."
"We've got to find a way to get you to sickbay," he said as he ran his hands over her head, trying to feel if the wound had grown. His hands came away sticky with fresh blood.
"Chakotay…" Her voice was small now. She sounded ... part of him refused to believe it, as it was so uncharacteristic, but she sounded almost... scared. His entire body stilled as he waited to hear what she would say next.
After a few minutes of silence passed he finally prompted her to continue, worried that perhaps she had fallen unconscious. "Kathryn?"
"Please don't leave me," were the barely whispered words. If it hadn't been for the utter silence of the turbolift he wouldn't have heard them. For a moment he felt as if perhaps his world was ending.
For Kathryn Janeway to ask for help, to admit to human frailty and to ask for him … he didn't even know how to process this. She had so many walls, so damn many walls that she had erected to keep her emotions at bay, to keep the Captain always firmly in place. She was always strong, always sure, brazen and bold.
With his next exhale of breath he had scooted closer to her, gently lifting her upper body and placing it in his lap. He kept his arms wrapped around her shoulders, unsure of what else he could do for her in the darkness with his lack of medical knowledge.
There was a tiny part of his rational brain that recognized this wasn't the correct action. It didn't matter if in a moment of weakness she had finally, really reached out to him for help, for comfort, for security. The correct action would be for him to leave her here, wounded, in the darkness of the unmoving turbolift and for him to get to engineering - not sickbay - and find out what was going on.
It didn't matter; the correct actions could go to hell for all he cared. This beautiful, intelligent woman had asked him to stay and that's exactly what he would do.
"I'm here Kathryn," he said softly, squeezing her shoulders as he cradled her in his lap. "I'm not going anywhere. Emergency teams will find us soon … you're going to be okay." The last words were said more for his own peace of mind than for Kathryn's.
"Thank you," was her whispered response and with it he felt tears glide silently down his face. Although he wasn't a man who was afraid of his emotions he was still thankful for the darkness that kept Kathryn from seeing.
"You're going to be okay."
Chakotay blinked rapidly, feeling disoriented. He glanced around himself; he was in the turbolift. He could clearly remember what had just occurred but... had it happened? It now felt wrong to him somehow. His eyes widened as his brain began placing the pieces together.
He'd been on the bridge and was headed to engineering to help B'Elanna. There was a hostile alien using some sort of psionic weapon, causing the crew to hallucinate. He sucked in a sharp breath as he realized everything he thought he'd just experienced in the turbolift had been a hallucination. He brushed a hand across his cheeks to find them completely dry.
The next day Chakotay sat across from Kathryn eating breakfast. He'd had to threaten to tell the doctor about her eating habits to get her to agree to breakfast. They were in his quarters, seated across each other at his small, standard Starfleet table.
He had replicated pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon for Kathryn, which she was digging into. He grinned happily, then scooped another spoonful of the simple porridge he'd replicated for himself into his mouth. After a night spent tossing and turning while he tried to process his hallucination, sharing this simple meal with her calmed his frayed nerves. In general being with her tended to have a calming affect on him.
"B'Elanna asked me yesterday, after the ordeal, if I thought the alien was really able to read our thoughts." She paused thoughtfully, folding her hands on the table in front of her as she looked earnestly over at him. "It was uncanny, don't you think? How the hallucinations we all saw seemed to fit so well with things we wanted … but then, they were slightly off too."
"Indeed, it was a very surreal experience."
"So, Commander, tell me, what did you see?"
Chakotay froze, his mind spinning wildly as he attempted to find a suitable answer in his brain. There was no way he could tell her truth. He had been halfway to spooning another bite of oatmeal into his mouth. Now, he slowly laid his spoon back into his bowl and looked up at her, his eyes wide.
Then, with a sheepish look she held up her hand, forestalling any attempt he might have given at a response.
"Forgive me, Commander," She smiled. "That was uncouth of me. I think our hallucinations or dreams or whatever they were are probably best left unspoken, as much as my curiosity wants to know, don't you think?"
"Yes, Captain," he said, smiling with relief. "I agree completely."
Fin.