No. A single word, yet so much meaning. Or so much indescript non sense. A word to hold his entire destiny. A word to end his life. A word to mend a heart, or shatter it. Just a word.
Kathryn, will you marry me?
No.
Chakotay ran his forearm across his brow to clear the sweat running into his eyes. His arms ached from the hard labor he had been doing all morning. The skin of his back was burning under the hot sun overhead. Sitting back on his heels, he rested for a moment and surveyed his work.
The sweat lodge was nearly repaired. He had been hammering slats onto the roofline for hours. The outside of the lodge hung heavy with animal pelts keeping the bright sunlight from entering the structure. With the last slats in place, all that was left was reattaching the skins for the roof. Once completed, he could enter the lodge and begin his ritual.
Chakotay stretched his legs out in front of him for a moment and leaned back to feel the warmth of the sun on his chest. Closing his eyes, he let his mind drift again. Hard work was always something he enjoyed. Seeing the progress created by his own two hands added a sense of fulfillment to his life. To see the finished product of his own endurance, brought him pleasure, what little of it he could find now.
He sighed as he thought back on his current surroundings. Dorvan was still no prize vista to live in, but it was good enough. After returning from Voyager's odyssey he was lucky to have the freedom to choose where he wanted to live. Starfleet had thanked him for his time and efforts on board ship, slapped him on the back, and sent him out the door as a civilian. Kathryn had managed to negotiate severance pay for him. He got most of what he should have for seven years as a Commander. It was enough to book passage to Dorvan and purchase materials to build a home. The people of Dorvan still believed in the old motto of his tribe; men don't own land. That left him a nice nest egg to travel and provide for a family one day.
He sighed. There's another meaningful single word. Family. He would be a family man before long. Of course it wouldn't be the family he had pictured. No red haired little girls running around his home. No big blue eyes asking him to lift the child onto his shoulders. No. Just…. No.
He shuffled back to his feet and gathered his tools. Carefully, he lifted the large pelts over the roof of the lodge to seal the top. He settled the coverings into their positions and strapped them down. The lodge was finally finished. Not a moment too soon either. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes as he judged the time left until sun down. He had maybe another two hours. Just enough time. He deposited his bag of tools outside the door of the lodge and went inside.
Chakotay surveyed the small sweat lodge. It looked little different from the last time he had been in one. A burn pit in the center with a bucket of river water for creating steam. Back then, he was just a teeenager struggling with his heritage during a ritual forced upon him by his father. Now, he was here willingly, hoping the exercise would purge the sadness and anger in his heart.
He crawled to the center of the lodge, barely a meter and a half tall, and lit the single burner of incense in the crater of the floor. He placed the rocks on top of the burner and splashed water from the bucket on top of the heating rocks. As he waited for the steam to begin filling the lodge, he stripped off his clothing and piled it neatly beside the doorway. The temperature in the wooden hut began to rise and sweat beaded on his skin. He sat cross legged next to the crater and added more water onto the now glowing rocks. Large clouds of fragrant mist rose from the burner and filled the lodge with oppressive heat. He rested his hands on his knees and closed his eyes.
Voices and faces filled his mind as he tried to focus inward. Attaining a vision quest this way was difficult, but not impossible. It was how his ancestors used to accomplish it. He focused on slowing down his thumping heartbeat and breathing deeply of the humid air. One voice refused to leave him. A single voice, burning like whiskey through his belly. It was their last conversation repeating over and over in his mind. His question and her answer. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
His eyes flew open and he was no longer in the lodge, but in a wooded forest kneeling on a platform above a bonfire. There were dozens of hooded figures all around him. He was unable to move and his heart began to race as he took in his surroundings. Flames licked at his platform and the heat from the fire below had him trembling in fear. He was kneeling with his hands bound behind him. Unable to stand, he had no choice but to beg the hooded figures to help him.
"Please! I don't want this!" he cried.
"Your questions. Your answers," they responded in monotone.
"I don't understand! Please! Help me!"
The flames rose around him. He could smell the wood on the underside of his platform starting to catch. The heat from below felt like it was melting his skin.
"I just want to be safe again! I don't want to hurt anymore!" he yelled again, watching the flames glow a little brighter.
The hooded figure directly in front of him stepped forward, her voice echoing above the roar of the fire.
"Always your needs!" she cried, ripping the hood from her head.
He stared in shock at Kathryn Janeway. No living person had ever appeared in his visions. Especially not her.
"You hurt me! I just want to forget you!" he yelled.
Another Kathryn pulled her hood back and stood next to the first.
"You hurt yourself!" she yelled back. "All we ever wanted was you!"
"No! I asked you! I begged you! You said no!"
The edges of his platform were now black and embers of the fire below began floating through the air around him. Powerless to move, he watched two more Kathryns emerge from their hoods.
"You hurt us! You asked and begged after you crushed us!" they replied together.
"I love you!" he cried.
The flames grew and he watched in horror as the edges of his platform caught fire. The embers flying through the air now landed on his bare skin and burned marks into his arms and shoulders. Each of the hooded figures pulled back their hoods and revealed dozens of Kathryn Janeways, surrounding him.
"Kathryn! Please, help me! I don't understand!"
The first Kathryn stepped forward through the flames and knelt in front of him. She was unaffected by the fire as she passed through it. His eyes filled with tears as he silently begged for her help. His mouth formed her name over and over, with no sound emerging. She leaned close and touched his cheek with her palm.
"It's too late. You decided this fate. You made this hell. These choices are yours and yours alone. You can't hurt me again," she replied, softly.
"Save me, Kathryn. Please! I need you. I love you. Only you!"
Fire burned his hands and legs as the platform fully engulfed in flames. He bit his lip until he drew blood to keep from crying out at the searing pain of the flames eating his skin. He kept his eyes locked on hers until finally, she leaned her head back and the fire raced up her cloak and hood, engulfing her as well.
"Together we burn…" she whispered.