A/N: As always, thanks to MissyHissy3 for the beta read! Thanks also to anyone reading and reviewing. Much love. x

Three

Kathryn dressed quickly in the uniform the Doctor had replicated for her. Its shoulders bore not command red, but the gentler shade of science teal. Pulling it on felt strange, less because of the difference in position that the colour implied and more because she could not remember the last time she had worn a piece of clean clothing. Besides which, it had taken two attempts for the computer to produce one that fitted her correctly: the malnutrition the Doctor had already begun to treat had been made manifest in the fact that her measurements deviated from those of her counterpart.

She wondered why she wasn't more shocked to find herself here, wherever 'here' was. Perhaps it had yet to kick in. On the other hand, perhaps she simply had trauma fatigue, this being the latest in a long, long line of events that, in any other circumstance, would have seen her signed off duty and under the care of a counsellor. Maybe her brain was no longer capable of shock.

Except that this was manifestly not true. If it were, Kathryn's hands would not be shaking as they were at this precise moment. She would not be having trouble stepping out of this cubicle to face the man she knew was waiting for her outside.

It's not him, she told herself, sternly, any more than she is you. Pull yourself together. You have work to do.

Taking a deep breath, she gave the hem of her jacket a hard yank down towards her hips – it was still slightly too large – and stepped out of the room she had used to change.

Chakotay was standing on the other side of sickbay, his hands clasped behind his back. As she emerged he smiled and drew his shoulders back, a slight gesture that implied a coming to attention, although in this context she held no rank at all. As Kathryn walked towards him she saw his attention drift to the colour at her shoulders and the smile became a fraction warmer still, touched with a hint of amusement. The expression twisted a knife in her gut, producing a pain that lanced up her through her chest and into her throat, thickening her tongue and threatening her speech. The look on her face as she tried to control her reaction must have seemed to him to be something other than it truly was, because when his eyes met hers he dropped the smile completely and the look in his eyes cooled. It was a change that only caused her pain to increase, and she saw what folly it had been to ask him to be the one to escort her to her new quarters: a moment of weakness she cursed herself for.

It's not him. It's not.

"Commander," she said, relieved at how level the rasp of her voice remained. "It was wrong of me to ask you to interrupt your duties. Please – I can wait here for my security detail. They can escort me to my quarters – you should return to the bridge, where you're needed."

He frowned slightly, his gaze flicking over her face as if attempting to read something there. "It's not an interruption," he assured her. "I would have suggested it if you hadn't. As first officer the crew's welfare is my responsibility, and you," he said, indicating her clean uniform, "are now part of this crew, Kathryn, even if only temporarily. We can talk as we walk."

After a moment's more hesitation she nodded. He smiled again and held out an arm towards the door. Together they headed out into the corridor and towards the 'lift.

"As the Captain said, you seem to be taking this remarkably well," he said, "but I want you to know that if you need anything – even if it's just someone with whom to talk over your experiences – you can talk to me."

She swallowed and grimaced a smile, looking down at her fingers, which had twined themselves together, hard. "Thank you, Commander, that's very kind of you. I'll be fine as soon as I know there's a way I can get back to my Voyager."

The turbolift arrived and he nodded as they stepped inside. "Deck three," he said to the air.

For a moment he stood with his face in profile to her, and she could not help tracing the lines of his tattoo with her eyes. A sharp, horrible grief clenched itself around her heart, and Kathryn had to reach out a hand to brace herself against wall of the 'lift. She turned away, sharply, not wanting him to see.

It's not him, it's not. It's NOT.

But of course it was too late.

"Kathryn?" he asked, reaching out a hand and laying it on her shoulder. Despite herself she reached up and grasped it for a moment before letting go and forcing herself upright. He dropped his hand and she felt its absence as if he'd removed one of her own limbs.

"I'm sorry," she said, dashing away the sudden tears. "It… This is proving harder than I thought."

He was watching her, she knew, though Kathryn could not bring herself to meet his eye. They reached deck three and the 'lift doors opened onto the familiar emptiness of this deck's corridor. She stepped out ahead of him, marvelling at the difference to distract herself from other thoughts. On her Voyager deck three had been uninhabitable for months. She'd long since moved to crew quarters elsewhere.

Chakotay walked behind her, and when he spoke his voice was as soft as that first time she'd come around in sickbay and seen the shocking, impossible reality of his face above her.

"I think I know what the problem is," he said. "You've already told us that you've lost a lot of people. Chakotay on your Voyager… he's dead. Isn't he?"

They reached the door of the guest quarters in silence because her throat was too tight to allow her to speak. Chakotay opened the door for her and she stepped into it before turning around.

"We lost Commander Chakotay six months ago," she said, her voice as brittle as her heart. "He died trying to evacuate deck six." She looked down at her hands, frowning a little. "He saved the crew but the section lost containment before he was able to escape himself. We recovered his body, but it was too late to save him."

She looked up to find Chakotay watching her with open sympathy. "I'm sorry," he said. "Seeing me alive and well must be bringing back difficult memories."

Kathryn gave a strangled half-laugh that had nothing to do with humour. Her eyes blurred again. "That's something of an understatement, Commander."

"You can call me Chakotay," he said. "I've noticed that apart from that first time you woke, when you were clearly disoriented, you've only called me by my rank. If it makes it easier for you to distinguish between us – if you always called him Commander – then call me Chakotay. Perhaps that would help?"

She stared at him for a moment and then stepped further into the dim light of her new quarters. Chakotay followed, the door hushing shut behind him. Kathryn turned away, looking out at the stars, still now, since the ship was at full stop. She turned back towards him again, adrift on a sea she had no idea how to navigate, her grief turning unexpectedly to a ferocious anger. She fumbled at the collar of her new uniform and he watched as she pulled out the thin gold chain she always wore, now, around her neck. She grasped the plain gold ring that was threaded onto it, pressing its perfect circle hard between her thumb and forefinger.

"This was his," she said, her voice rough with pain as well as anger. "So no, I didn't call him Commander. And I miss him. I miss him, and I know you're not him but you look like him and I can't-"

She ran out of energy mid-sentence, without even knowing what it was she had been about to say. Kathryn was suddenly filled with a void, dark and cold, hollow and terrible. She turned away, still holding her dead husband's ring in her fingers, and looked out at the great emptiness that held the stars, because she could not bear to see that face, and know it was not his.

[TBC]