He held the cool hand in his, eyes closed, focused on the beep coming from the monitor beside him as the nurse finished checking his father's vitals. The rhythmic tone stopped when she packed up the portable device and left the room. She probably wouldn't be back before his father died.

Silence. Deafening. It made him feel numb. Floating, limbs tingling, as if he hadn't been in the same chair for hours.

He knew he shouldn't grieve for a man who was not yet lost to him. Deep down, he knew that his real grief was for the time lost to years of disagreement and the lost experiences between father and son.

Chakotay raised his head and opened his eyes. The scene before him had changed little in the last five days. Dutifully, he'd stayed rooted to this chair, cherishing the lucid waking moments with his father. His siblings spelled him, carrying heavy hearts. His mother focused on caring for her children during the day and holding her husband through the nights.

But he found he felt a certain sense of obligation towards himself and his progenitor, so here he sat, restless, hesitant to leave the old man's side.

The stubble, rough on his cheeks, rasped against his hands as he rubbed his face, encouraging blood flow so he could stay awake.

Gasps. Sighs.

The fading light of the day peeked through the curtains, slowly extinguishing beneath the horizon.

Chakotay's spirit longed for his father's release from pain and weakness in his ravaged body. He prayed for his father's passing into the sky to be with the spirits, finally at peace in a way he never could be here on Earth.

Sakina slipped into the room, carefully inching the door closed behind her.

She sat on the side of the bed, resting her hand on her husband's cheek. Beneath his eyelids, Kolopak's eyes fluttered at the touch. Lids opened, a sliver of warm honey appeared for only a moment. He slept again, secure in the embrace of his beloved, restful in the serene oblivion that soothed him in his last days.

Chakotay left to sleep on the couch and give privacy to his parents as they whispered to each other and his mother hummed softly throughout the night.

oOoOo

Before the sun came up, Chakotay woke to a disturbance in the house. Unsure, he sat up and listened for the sound again.

Nothing.

He rose a hurried to his parent's bedroom.

His mother lay awake, her head on Kolopak's chest. One of her hands smoothed over a chest that no longer moved with the rhythmic bursts of life. Her fingers traced nonsense on the cooling skin, pale and puckered. Her single lamenting wail had pieced the death in the air; it had woken him from his light sleep.

Chakotay tenderly held his mother's hand atop the man's chest until the body was as cool as the room.

Sakina got up from the bed well after morning daylight leaked into the room, peeling her fingers from her son's grip.

Without a word, she brushed her hands lightly over Kolopak's body, judiciously arranging his limbs and smoothing his hair.

Chakotay unfolded the fine red cloth from atop the dresser, handing it to his mother and helping her cover the figure on the bed. They paid meticulous attention to make sure the cloth remained unwrinkled covered the body in its entirety.

His mother dropped into the chair by the bed, her eyes on her husband, maintaining the quiet, constant waking vigil that tradition demanded.

The middle child only left to call his siblings, who called the cousins, who called the extended family as well.

He fell into his father's chair, staring at the ceiling, not seeing, breathing in short puffs of air. Chakotay's chest tightened and made it hard to breathe without feeling the million shards of his tattered heart tearing at his ribcage. His hands shook, no matter how hard he gripped his thighs. His muscles pulled taut, vibrating, cramping and angry with grief. He shut his eyes tight when he heard the soft sobs of his mother in the other room.

Though the lingering sadness would weigh heavy on his heart, Chakotay found happiness in the relationship he'd repaired with his parents in the last few months. He would remember his father…his dad, as a mulish man who held his ground, but was also infinitely wise if not always timely- he knew when he'd been wrong and had the strength to admit it.

The funeral would take place before sunset, but until then all family members would fast in their mourning and take turns keeping watch over Kolopak. The dead must always be watched over, no sleep, no rest, never left alone, lest the spirit lose its hold on the world too soon.

Tomorrow would be a celebration of remembrance and joy as they all came together to share stories about his late father and the makings of his great spirit as they released the memories of the great man into the heavens. The ceremonies offered cathartic liberation of grief and an offering of forgiveness both for and from the spirit.

Sekaya arrived at the house first, children and husband in tow. She walked to her brother, leaned into him, giving him strength and taking it just as much. She went to her mother.

Not five minutes later, Kiopak and his son came through the back door. Kio set his son about gathering the materials to prepare Kolopak.

When the boy came back with bowls of water, bottles of oils, and a basket of soft white cloths, the two brothers went to their father. Kaya took Sakina to be with her grandchildren while Kolopak's male children performed their duties.

The house filled, but remained somber in the dazzling day, warm and still. Even the young children knew the importance of the day and spoke in whispers, tiptoeing around the kitchen while their mothers made tea for everyone.

Kio and Chakotay meditated and prayed to the sky spirits asking them to ferry their father's soul safely to the skies beyond. They asked for their souls to be cleansed and left joyful as they sent their father from his physical trappings.

Moving the crimson sheet carefully and folding it at the foot of the bed, they removed the clothes from the body, taking care to fold them neatly. They started to clean the man's skin with the cool, fragrant water, paying special attention to every wrinkle and bend. Reverently, they dried the ashen limbs until they were finished with the task.

Both men picked up a bottle of spiced oil, fragrant with sandalwood and lavender. Starting again, they moved over every inch of Kolopak's skin with light, sure touches like feathers tumbling from the breath of a baby's cry.

Chakotay mirrored each sweep of Kio's hands and pulled back, wiping his hands on a clean cloth at the end of the charge.

From another pile of cloth his mother had prepared, Chakotay took a fresh set of clothes intricately woven with patters of reds, browns, and blacks. The pants and tunic were something Sakina had made over the last weeks, intended for this day in particular.

Once Kolopak was clothed and properly tucked beneath his scarlet shroud, their mother came back into the room with the rest of the family to continue the watch while the men went to prepare for the cremation.

oOoOo

As the fire burned, the tribe sang together, songs they knew and loved all their lives, in happiness or sorrow, in old age or as children.

Chakotay, arms around his mother and his niece balanced on his hip, lamented his loss and the loss of the people around him. The deep baritone of his voice shivered, breath clouding in the cool air of the early evening as the dark enveloped the world. The steam ballooned from his lips, a stark glimmer in the air lighted by the leaping of the flames on the pyre.

They stayed until the fire had died to mere embers. They covered the ashes in the fine topsoil, whispering their final goodbyes.

Close family met at Sakina's brother's house for a late meal, then left close to midnight.

Chakotay felt blessed by the spirits to see all his family in one place. He enjoyed lifting his little cousins in the air and feeling the arms of his uncles holding him tightly and offering words of strength and condolence. His favorite cousin, Elenia, had grown since he'd seen her. She'd blossomed into a beautiful young woman and spoke of dreams to go to medical school and treat pediatric oncology patients. She broke the mold as he did, aspiring beyond the traditions of the tribe and longing for the outside world. She excitedly told him that she'd applied to University of Kansas pre-med and she was happy she would have family within driving distance.

Sekaya and her husband left directly to get the young children and Kio's son home, but Kiopak stayed to help Chakotay get their mother home and settled. They unlocked the door in the dark early morning hours, settling in by one.

Chakotay fell to sleep on the lumpy couch, remembering that tomorrow would be his birthday. His flight back to Kansas left the day after.

oOoOo

Ankal drove Chakotay to the airport early Friday morning, avoiding the Black Friday traffic and taking the back roads to the travel center.

Heavy grey clouds hovered, obscuring the rising sun. The sky sputtered and spat fat drops intermittently along the road, streaming water trailing down the windshield.

Before Chakotay boarded the plane, his brother-in-law handed him a small wrapped package with a birthday card. They shook hands warmly, mumbling their goodbyes to each other and making half-hearted promises about visiting each other soon.

On the plane, Chakotay sighed in defeat as he adjusted himself in the cramped middle seat, the armrests digging into his sides, unrelenting in their determination to cause discomfort. A large man with greasy hair and questionable oral hygiene habits squeezed past and stuffed himself into the window seat, snuffling into a handkerchief as he coughed. To his right, a seven-year old girl looked at him, wide-eyed and bouncing as she sat on her own hands. Across the aisle, her mother dug into her bag, producing crayons and a coloring book and rearranging snacks to more convenient positions.

After take-off as the plane leveled out, the girl quieted and the large man snored loudly. Chakotay closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the pillow behind his neck. Hands folded loosely across his lap, Chakotay thought. He turned his brain back on for the first time in days. He processed what had happened over the last few weeks. Everything had moved so fast in November, some things moved too fast- like his father's death, and others, much sweeter, progressed perfectly- like his budding relationship with Kathryn.

oOoOo

Chakotay swung by the shop again at a quarter to five, indulging in a tea as Kathryn finished her shift and went to the back to change her shirt and hang her apron.

He'd called the theatre in Garden City and was surprised that quite a few movies were showing, including quite a few that he seemed interesting. On Tom's recommendation, he also planned to take Kathryn to a neat little restaurant next to the theatre for dinner. In truth, he didn't care about what he ate or what they watched. He only wanted to spend some quality time with the intriguing woman who took his hand and dragged him from the pie shop, excited for a night out with a guy who wasn't scared of her crazy baggage.

They debated over the movie. He supposed he should have known that nothing would be easy. She insisted that they see Last of the Mohicans, he insisted they see Mr. Saturday Night. She wanted him to be happy, the historical drama a perfect movie for his interests. He wanted her to cheer up, watching a campy comedy might help that. Chakotay insisted that he'd enjoy either movie, and that her pleasure during their night out made him happy enough. He bought tickets to the comedy and quibbled over how much popcorn to buy.

In the theatre, he held the popcorn as she dug her hand in repeatedly, putting away more popcorn than anyone that small ever should. At one point, their hands brushed each other in the carton and she pulled away, realizing she'd been mindlessly groping at popcorn. She smiled and wiped her hands on some napkins. She held her stomach when she realized how full she'd gotten, and apologized for hogging the snack.

She didn't laugh enough. Another thing he'd have to remedy, because she lit up, beautiful when she let herself giggle. She didn't smile enough, but she did more when she was with him. He knew, watching her relax, that he might not be able to fix the dark clouds that hovered over her, but despite their pasts, both of them could identify with each other on a higher level and bring out a happiness that might otherwise be lost.

After the movie they enjoyed a brief dinner before going back to Attleboro.

As they pulled into Kathryn's drive again, she invited him to stay for a little while.

"But not too late, I promise. We have work. Oh, and just coffee this time." She reddened, remembering the night before.

Chakotay couldn't resist the temptation to join her.

She left him on the porch swing in front and went to get the coffee started. When she came back to the porch she'd put on a sweater and lost her shoes.

"You really seem to hate shoes." He observed. She took any opportunity to walk around bare-footed, at least from what he'd seen.

"I should make you wear heels for a day." She smirked at the thought, plopping down next to him on the swing.

"Thank you for such a nice evening. I don't know how long it's been since I went to a movie. The last one I saw might have been, uh, Pretty Woman?"

"Well, I love seeing films, so I might have to drag you out a bit more often than once every couple years." He hadn't been sure if he'd gone too far, already implying that there'd be more dates, but she only smiled.

"I'd probably let you drag me out to almost anywhere." She blushed a bit and escaped back into the house to get their drinks.

"Mom left a note. She's at her bridge night tonight, so she won't be home to tease you or humiliate me tonight. Whatever will we do?"

She sat down again, offering him his coffee. He sat his mug on the porch railing, and after her first sip, he gently took her mug as well.

"If it isn't too presumptuous, I wouldn't be opposed to kissing you." He looked directly into her eyes to judge her reaction.

He was met with an unsure but playful look and just the slightest nod, her smile reappearing.

Chakotay rested one hand on her shoulder and brought the other up to tilt Kathryn's face towards his. He leaned in a few inches, slowly moving towards her, watching her intently in case she changed her mind.

She inhaled deeply, held her breath, then let it out painfully slow just before his lips met hers.

The kiss began tentatively, her lips tense for moments before softening and molding to his. She breathed in, sucking the air as her body tried to gasp at the sensation. Her warm breath brushed past his upper lip in controlled exhales. Her eyes closed and her lips parted, opening to his tongue. He tasted of the chocolate from their dessert. She was a whirl of chocolate, coffee, and popcorn. Her hands skimmed his waist and came to rest curled under his arms. He couldn't breath as he lost himself in her malleable, heated skin.

Too soon, he pulled back, dropping both hands to her forearms. She sighed and made the smallest sound of disappointment when the kiss ended, wanting more. He could see her pulse racing in her neck, her eyes somewhat unfocused and her pupils dilated more than the bright porch light required.

Chakotay returned her coffee mug from the railing and took up his own again, a grin breaking out on his face. They sipped in silence for a moment, eyes locked, as she rocked the bench gently with her foot.

"Can we do that again?" Quietly, muffled by the rim of her mug against her chin.

"As you wish."

He didn't even wait for her to put her coffee somewhere safe as he swooped in for another kiss.

Her hands stayed cemented to her mug, but his framed her face and drew her further towards him. He combed his fingers through her long, loose hair, tangling at her neck and holding her to him, supporting her neck as she leaned her head back to relax the angle of their joined mouths.

By the time they came up for air again she was pressed against him, their legs bruising against the wooden slats of the bench as they tried to occupy the same space.

"Oh, my." She touched her lips, warm and pink. Tendrils of muted red weaved their way up her neck, her eyes sparkled, glossy.

"Would you like to go inside, so we don't give the neighbors too much of a show?" She shifted a couple of inches to give him space on the bench.

He finished his cooling coffee.

"I should probably head home."

Her face fell. Before she could say anything, he took one of her hands in his.

"We both have school tomorrow, and I wouldn't dream of taking advantage of such a lovely woman on a first date."

"But…"

He got up and took her cup, heading inside to deposit them in the kitchen. She followed like a kicked puppy, small, soft and pouting.

At the entrance to the kitchen, she blocked him from leaving.

"Just one more?"

Chakotay sighed, playing that she was asking for an impossible feat, but took her up in his arms and kissed her nose lightly. She tilted her face up to him, waiting. His lips found her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. Silencing a whimper, she waited patiently. Pulling her with him, he backed towards the front door until he felt the handle dig into his hip.

"One more."

She raised herself onto the tips of her toes, stretching to meet him as their mouths melded together, tongues exploring and hands searching for purchase.

Turning from her then, he bid her good night and left with a wink, just to drive her mad.

oOoOo

They decided to take it slow. Over lunch on Monday they talked about what a relationship would really mean. Both agreed that they wanted to take their time (though it might be hard) and keep their relationship discreet for the moment. Admittedly, it wouldn't take long for the whole town to find out, especially when Gretchen was convinced they were destined for each other. It would be good to enjoy their time together without prying eyes for a few weeks.

On weekends, they were inseparable; on weekdays Chakotay found excuses to stay late so he could bother Kathryn in her room until she let him walk with her as both headed home. If he didn't count coffee, his favorite past time was holding Kathryn, lightly running his fingers along her arms until the dusting of fine hairs stood on end and her flesh rippled and raised in the path of his fingertips. She had made a habit of sitting between his knees in front of the couch and grading papers while he lounged and read, occasionally tipping her head back to meet his eyes, and often receiving a chaste kiss.

He found himself holding back, reluctant yet to fully consummate their relationship. Instead he wanted to focus on a solid foundation and deeper understanding from both of the other's emotions and flaws.

Mike had noticed that Chakotay rarely drove in to school and he knew why, but he would give them their privacy for a while.

Tom and Lanna gave them time too, though they were excited at the prospect of another couple to go out with.

It was a week before Thanksgiving break when Chakotay got the call from Kiopak, asking him to come to be with their father.

Tom drove Chakotay to the airport two nights later.

Though they talked about music and movies during the car ride, they also talked a bit about the women they were involved with. Tom advised Chakotay that Kathryn, like Lanna, could be stubborn to a fault (this he knew already!) and that she had a bad habit of taking all the blame whenever something went wrong. But with these short comings, he admitted that both women were also devoted and fiercely loyal. He warned Chakotay that he should be prepared for Kathryn to give of herself fully, and that if anything was ever done to hurt her, she had plenty of family to protect her and prevent anything from devastating her again.

Chakotay mentioned Justin and the accident, hoping that he might get a more objective side of the events Kathryn had mentioned. It confirmed her penchant for taking all of the responsibility on her shoulders. It also made him sad to learn that she'd spent months recovering physically and years to really come back to herself mentally. He agreed with Tom that it wasn't completely resolved, and that he'd communicate openly with Tom and Gretchen if he ever needed advice or help navigating the delicate balance she'd reestablished in her life. It might have been the only serious conversation he'd had with the man.

He could do this.

He never wanted to do something more in his life.

oOoOo

Turbulence shook the plane as they began to angle for descent.

The speakers above him toned softly before the flight attendant announced that they would be landing shortly and reminded them to stow their trays and check their seat belts.

It was comforting to him that he had a chance to tell his father about Kathryn and the happiness he had found in his new home. Now, he was back to continue his path to contentment.