Title: This Is Goodbye
Author: Singing Violin
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine.
Summary: Tuvok's thoughts during the hug at the end of "Year of Hell."
Feedback: Please.
Archiving: Anywhere.
Author's note: This ficlet was based upon a request from a friend. It is now a goodbye gift.
Captain Janeway should know that, as a Vulcan, I am reluctant to engage in physical contact, and yet she often touches me, allowing me access – albeit brief – to her innermost thoughts and feelings. I know that, since I have become blind, she feels that the physical contact is essential to let me know that she is still there, but I have wondered whether she realizes how…intimate…her gestures truly are.
We are about to part, perhaps forever – she has acknowledged the odds against her – and she reaches forward and caresses my face, as if it were she without sight and in need of an alternative method of authentication.
As her hardened hands, scarred from the burns she suffered in Deflector Control, meet the stubble on my clumsily-shaven face, I am struck with the image before her eyes.
The ship is dark, dim lights flashing irregularly. And yet, in her vision, it glows with life, enveloping her in a positive energy I cannot quantify, but somehow understand.
She truly loves this ship. And, in a way, it loves her back. But…she loves her crew too. She loves me, and she will miss me.
Suddenly, I feel the need to comfort her, even though she is valiantly stoic during what is most probably the last few minutes of her life. I raise a hand to her back, and too late I realize my mistake.
Her view is immediately blurred with tears – tears she cannot let fall.
Tears she refuses to shed on me…she believes they will disgust me. She wants to cry, but she wants to do it in the arms of…I should have suspected.
The one nagging at the back of her thoughts, the one she wishes would hold her in my place, is still on the Krenim time-weapon ship. She has had only the watch at her belt to honor his memory, a watch she regrets refusing when it was offered to her as a gift. An image flashes inadvertently across her mind, shared with me through her touch.
The watch is in her hand, open so that she may observe the movement of the antique hands. She imagines his countenance – a photo perhaps – behind the numbers, smiling, reminding her of happier times. A small droplet falls onto the face, and then another. Hastily, she snaps it closed and wipes her eyes. She cannot afford to waste water on tears…
She pulls away from me before she loses her tenuous control completely. Even though I can no longer see, I sense she is hiding in the shadows while she regains her composure.
Seven is careful only to take hold of my clothing, so I do not know her thoughts. As we walk away, I muse on what I have learned.
Suddenly I realize there was something else in her mind, a somewhat irrational hope for a better future. She is – not for the first time – sacrificing her own life to save an alternate version of herself. There were more than instructions in that message from Lieutenant Paris. There was a note from Chakotay as well…not much, just his regards…but if it weren't for that small gesture, she might not have had the courage to, as she pointed out to Lieutenant Torres, "go down with the ship."
She is not, in fact, suicidal. She truly believes she will continue to exist in another timeline…a better timeline.
And this version of her will die with the image of Chakotay at the forefront of her mind.
The real Chakotay, however, plans to beam to my ship.
I make a decision. I shall disobey orders. In this timeline, I will not let her die alone when an easy alternative is available.
The sensor readings tell me, in quick audio and tactile signals, that Voyager is on a collision course with Annorax's vessel.
The captain has reached the end of her service to her ship. I execute the transport.
As she materializes, I hear a shuffling noise. I assume he has seen her and rushed to her side. I imagine her appearance, burned and broken, is a shock to him. I hear her whimper slightly, and I surmise that he has taken her into his arms.
Somehow I know they are shedding tears on each other as we all shimmer out of existence…