"Please..." he cried, reaching up, pulling his fingers loosely through the strands of her hair. "Please..."

Kathryn pulled him closer. "I can't, Chakotay," she soothed, her hands rubbing over his sweat-drenched back. "Not yet. Just hold on a little longer." The Doctor had instructed her to increase the time interval between injections of the drug.

"Hurts..." he whimpered, rocking his body in rhythm with the pain.

"I know." She tried to hold him tighter.

He'd been on the floor beside his bed for over an hour, fighting the withdrawal symptoms. His pajamas were soaked with urine and perspiration, and still she wouldn't let him go.

"I'm right here, Chakotay. You're going to be all right." She began to rock her body in tandem with his.

He drew in a ragged breath and buried his head against her chest, his hands kneading his stomach and groin. That's where the pain was, where it hurt, where he wanted the warmth.

Didn't she understand?

He reached up with one hand, fingers touching her face and lips, tangling in her hair again. His eyes burned with tears, and his throat was raw.

Long minutes passed - an eternity.

And then she spoke. "Bring me the hypospray."

He heard the words, but he didn't know who was there. He didn't care. He wanted it - the warmth. Nothing else mattered.

And then there was someone else beside them, kneeling down, another hand on his back.

Another voice.

"I've got him, Kathryn." Strong, large hands held his shoulders, stopped his rocking.

And then the cold touch of the hypospray on his neck, the tightening of muscles, the stiffening of arms and legs.

But there was no warmth.

At least not the way he remembered.

It was there, but the intensity was dulled. It passed through his body with little relief, and left him trembling helplessly in Hugh Cambridge's arms.

"Kathryn?"

"Hold him while I get something to clean him up with."

He wasn't asleep, but he was drifting, his eyes closed. He was aware of the two people with him, knew who they were. And he was also aware of the pain that still lingered, tracing along his nervous system. He didn't understand. The hypospray had always taken it away before.

Hugh shifted Chakotay in his embrace, held him closer to his chest. He had never seen his friend in such pain, even after the Borg when he was fighting his inner demons and dependency on alcohol. And he wanted to be able to take it away, but all he could do was rock the man in his arms. Minutes later, Kathryn returned with a warm damp cloth. They managed to remove Chakotay's soiled pajamas, and then Kathryn bathed him as best she could.

The cloth felt good on his skin. It didn't take the pain away, but it helped. They talked to him while they cleaned him, and that helped, too. He was still with them even if he wasn't sure he wanted to be.

When they were through, Hugh picked up Chakotay in his arms and gently tucked him into bed, pulling the covers warmly over him. Kathryn sat beside him, her hand smoothing over his head, massaging his neck.

"Sleep, Chakotay," she whispered, knowing that he would need rest before the next time.

~vVv~