I caught the writing bug this weekend, after a long, difficult week (until Friday. Friday was good!), and here is one of the products of that!

Tonight, a hull breach and a forcefield failure flung her out into the emptiness of space.

She had been hurrying along the corridor to Engineering when the bulkhead ahead had been blown outwards. She glanced at the rift cautiously as a forcefield had sizzled into place instantly. Interference, though, was causing it to shudder, and she held back.

"Captain, we need you now!" B'Elanna's voice was desperate and urgent over the comm link, and Kathryn set into a run again. But as she skirted past the tear in the wall, the forcefield shivered and ceased to exist.

The scream she held was ripped from her in the silence of the vacuum, hurling her outwards, spinning further and further from her ship. She knew, without a suit, transporters down, she would last barely 30 seconds. She caught glimpses of the wreck of her ship and struggled to find her last piece of comfort. But the words wouldn't come. Her surroundings could no longer carry sound and she felt the deep panic rise in her chest.

No poem.

No comfort.

Tonight she found out what it really meant to die alone.

Alone in space.

Where no-one would ever find her.

Kathryn had stopped breathing. That had never happened before.

She was screaming, thrashing as usual as Chakotay wrestled for control, whispering soft words to console and bring her back to him. He pushed the hair that was stuck to her cheek off her face, and wiped away the tears that gathered in its place. And then she had stilled; arms, legs, clutching fingers, even the rise and fall of her chest.

Chakotay's heart skipped a beat.

Frantically, he felt for her pulse and hovered his cheek above her mouth. He sensed the small, regular movement of her blood under his fingers and was satisfied, but he didn't feel the air disturb between his face and hers, couldn't hear it either, confirming what his eyes had refused to believe. With urgency, he grasped for his comm badge and slapped it hard.

"Chakotay to the Doctor; the Captain's not breathing!"

"Stay there, Commander. I'm already halfway there."

Instinct took over.

Picking Kathryn up in his arms, he laid her on the floor. With his fingers under her chin he tilted her head backwards, opening the airway, whispering constantly despite the lump in his throat. Then he pinched her nose, took a deep breath, and sealed his lips over hers.

He exhaled, forcing the air to move to her lungs. He felt her chest rise slightly and he pulled away. With another breath, he repeated the motion.

No response.

He sat up and linked his fingers together and started compressions to the centre of her chest, attempting to keep his rhythm as constant as he could. Once completed, still to no effect, he returned his mouth to hers, willing with every fibre of his being for her to reawaken. Chakotay hadn't noticed the entrance of the hologram, or his scanning, until he heard his voice halfway through his second compression cycle.

"She's gone into shock, Commander. This should help." The Doctor pressed a hypospray to Kathryn's neck. Chakotay paused, watching. Waiting.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kathryn's eyelids fluttered open, and she took a deep, shuddered breath. They locked eyes and the both of them burst into tears.

"Don't you do that to me," he cried, gathering her into his arms. She buried her head into his shoulder, whispering indistinguishably. Rocking the both of them, his mind still blurred, he brushed his lips fleetingly across her neck. "Don't you ever, ever do that to me. Never again, Kathryn. Never, please, oh Gods..."

"I was in a nightmare... I couldn't breathe." She explained once they had settled her back under the covers. Chakotay held her hand, running his thumb over the top of her fingers. She shot a brief look at him, unable to meet his eyes that were still red from his tears. "I couldn't use the poem."

"And somehow that translated into a physical process. There seems to be no other explanation, but I will run these tests when I return to sickbay." The Doctor sighed, folding his arms, "if this persists, Captain, I will have to keep you in sickbay every time you sleep." He noted the fear in her features as her head jerked towards him. He smiled in an attempt to comfort her, "but seeing as it's just this once, I'll let you remain in your Quarters."

"Thank you, Doctor." She relaxed back into the cushions and closed her eyes, her breathing, though still elevated, falling back into a steady rhythm. Quietly, Chakotay turned to the EMH, still holding her hand in his.

"Where were you, Doc? You said you were halfway here? Wouldn't this usually warrant a medical emergency transport?" Chakotay glanced up at the Doctor momentarily before returning his eyes to watch Kathryn. She was still tense, and his worry was written over his face.

"I had just left Tuvok's Quarters when you called me, and Mr Paris is on duty in sickbay. I thought it unwise to send the Captain to him, and potentially cause a ship wide panic, when I could have been here in the same amount of time that a transport would have taken." At the mention of Tuvok, Chakotay raised an eyebrow in question to the Doctor. Subtly, the hologram shook his head, telling him that now was not the time. Silently, Chakotay agreed. They couldn't worry Kathryn with the strain that surrounded her oldest friend just yet. He returned to stroking the back of her hand absently, brow furrowed. The Doctor took in the scene before him, before turning away. "If everything is ok here, I should return and relieve Mr Paris. Good night, Captain, Commander."

"Thanks, Doc." Chakotay called after him as the doors swished open for the hologram to exit. Once they had shut behind him, Chakotay closed the distance between Kathryn and himself, taking her face between his palms.

"Don't say that you can't tell me what it is." His voice was low, pleading to her for an explanation. When she refused to meet his eye and pulled away, he felt the anger he kept buried within rise to the surface, his own exhaustion from the past days adding to it.

"Damn it Kathryn, this has been going on for over a week! You've been suspended from duty until the end of the month! I have sat with you, I have dealt with your mood swings, and I have held you as you cry. I sleep in your bed for your comfort, but each night it just gets worse! You've been taking longer to wake, your screams," he closed his eyes, forcing the haunted sound out of his mind. He took a ragged breath, subduing his temper until all that remained was his concern for the woman before him. He felt his voice crack as his eyes threatened to spill tears again. "And now this? Kathryn, please. I don't want to lose you to this. Let me help you. "

"You do help me," she murmured quietly, placing a hand on his neck. Turning to face him, he saw the conflict inside her blue depths that she kept veiled from the Doctor, from anyone but him, as they began to water too. "You do all of those things and more. You make me feel safe. You see me at my worst and tell me everything's going to be ok."

"But these are only the symptoms, Kathryn. If we're to chase these dreams away, we have to fight it at its root." He placed his forehead against hers, breathing deeply to banish the tears. He felt the air between them mingle their breaths, further comfort that she was alive, and his voice returned, softer. "What are they, Kathryn? You can't move on until you acknowledge them."

"Not now," she whispered, her fingers tracing spirals on the back of his neck. It was a ploy to distract him, and he knew it. She was flipping to her flirtatious state, and he had learnt there was only one way to deal with that one. He sighed deeply, exasperated, taking hold of her hands and fixing his gaze onto hers. His voice was stern as he attempted to force the issue.

"Yes, now Kathryn." She shook her head.

"No. Holodeck, later. Gives me time to prepare." The look in her eye made him believe her. With a sigh, he let go of her hands and rolled to lie beside her. He watched as she ordered the lights out and as she settled back down. As he studied her, he saw how as she slowly calmed towards sleep her emotions settled, became more Janeway-typical.

"What is it?" Amidst his observations, he saw the smile that had caught the corner of her lips. She rolled onto her elbow, her eyes sparkling in the dim light as they would normally.

"You told me you wouldn't kiss me."

"It wasn't a kiss, it was mouth to mouth. You weren't breathing." He ran his hand over his forehead, pushing away the thoughts that were flitting through his mind. He barely recalled anything more than the strong desire to feel her breathing again.

"No, not that. When you took me into your arms... my neck..." He watched as she lifted her fingers to run over the soft, pale skin at the curve to her shoulder. He remembered then, in the heat of the moment...

"Kathryn, I was just relieved you were alive-" She smiled again, before turning, resting both her head and one of her hands on his chest. He felt her legs tangle with his as he tried to pull away. She hushed him softly, letting out a small, contented sigh.

"I know. You're exhausted, Chakotay, and it's my fault. Go to sleep. You have Bridge Duty in the morning."

Too tired to resist, Chakotay closed his eyes and drifted away, winding slowly down with the feeling of his arm around her waist, and her fingers dancing across his chest.