They rode the turbo lift to sickbay in silence. She stared straight ahead.

She thought back to the last few days. Of all the possible ramifications and scenarios she had postulated following the discovery of the Borg skeleton on the planet where they'd found the galacite, she had to concede that this was one eventuality she had definitely not foreseen.

That her first officer would be attacked by one faction of ex-Borg drones living on a lawless planet, and then brainwashed and manipulated by another? No, she hadn't seen this one coming.

She wondered what Chakotay would have to say. How the hell he would explain what he'd just done? It beggared belief. She hoped to God that the Doctor was really sure he'd permanently reversed whatever had been done to him, and that there could be an absolute guarantee that this could never recur. She needed desperately to hear that.

The Doctor had contacted her on the bridge to say that he had finished treating him and was ready to report back. She had intended to go down to sickbay alone, but Tuvok had followed her into the turbo lift. She didn't need to ask why.

In sickbay, the Doctor gave his report; they listened and he answered their questions.

He confirmed that Chakotay had been acting against his will. It had been possible due to a temporary heightening of his telepathic receptivity, as a residual effect from the healing link he'd been part of apparently, and it would not last.

Thank God.

Chakotay was sitting on the bio bed, legs dangling, in a strangely childlike posture.

She dismissed Tuvok and the Doctor. She could see what it was costing Chakotay to sit there with an audience, whilst it had been confirmed to them all that his mind hadn't been his own. He was a man who liked to stay in control; his ability to keep his cool in a crisis was one of his strengths as a leader. But this, this was the antithesis of all that he aspired to.

He could hardly bring himself to look her in the eyes. He looked absolutely wretched. Disgusted with himself.

As soon as they were alone, he offered her a subdued apology. She tried to reassure him, but she felt as if her words didn't really register with him.

When he started berating himself for repairing their communications array, she stopped him saying, "Helping others, Chakotay, that's part of who you are, given everything you believe in I don't see how you could've behaved differently," desperate for him to acknowledge that this didn't represent a weakness.

This didn't seem to get through to him either. He was inconsolable. She could see that it would take him time to get past all this. Probably a long time.

As they started towards the door, the Doctor came out of his office, Tuvok close behind. "Please get some rest now, Commander," the Doctor said.

Then he addressed her, "He should be fit to return to duty tomorrow morning, Captain, but I would like him to wear a cortical monitor, just until his duty shift starts at 07.00 tomorrow, so that I can ensure his neuropeptide levels remain stable."

"A wise precaution, Doctor," Tuvok stated, expressionless.

Chakotay looked straight ahead, focusing on a point somewhere on the other side of the room, and said nothing.

Kathryn replied, "Of course, Doctor, I'm sure the Commander will be happy to co-operate, if you believe it's really necessary," even as she said it, she cursed her choice of words.

Chakotay looked at her, nodded almost imperceptibly, then dropped his gaze to the floor. She was close enough to hear him inhale slowly. He tensed visibly as the Doctor attached the cortical monitor to the base of his skull.

They made their way out of sickbay together. Tuvok remained behind with the Doctor. Kathryn hoped Chakotay wasn't thinking about what that meant.

They entered the turbo lift in silence. Once inside, she turned to face him and said, "Chakotay, this really wasn't your fault."

He made eye contact finally. "Are you sure of that?"

"Yes. Yes I am."

"So you still trust me with your ship?" Resignation in his eyes to whatever reply was forthcoming.

"With our ship, yes. Yes, of course I do."

"Thank you," he said, holding her gaze.

She put her hand on his forearm. "Get some rest, I'll check in on you later."

"Yes, Captain."

As the turbo lift doors closed behind him, she let out a long sigh. She wished he hadn't used her title. She didn't intend to call on him later as his commanding officer, but as his friend. And he certainly needed a friend right now.


xxx xxx xxx


"Come on, Chakotay, remember what I said in sickbay, they saved us from that cube, they let you go, that's got to mean something, don't you think? Let me get you some tea, you stay there, I'll join you, how does that sound?"

"Like you're trying too hard," he replied quietly, looking up at her as she moved towards his replicator.

He was sitting facing towards the viewport, forearms resting on the table in front of him. He'd had several hours alone since being discharged from sickbay. He'd changed out of uniform, and she guessed from his creased t-shirt that he'd been lying down. She doubted he'd slept. He looked like hell.

She placed the tea in front of him and sat down opposite, cradling her coffee. "Chakotay, are you OK?"

"No, I'm not," he said bluntly.

She thought she could hazard a pretty accurate guess at some of the thoughts that had been tormenting him during the hours he'd been alone here in his quarters.

It'd happened again. He'd been manipulated, intimately manipulated she suspected; used by a woman with a specific agenda. His trusting nature had let him down again. Earlier in sickbay, she had been praying that Tuvok wouldn't decide to take it upon himself to point this out to him, again. Thank God she'd excused them before he'd had the chance.

Looking at Chakotay, she wondered whether he'd ever trust a woman again. If life dealt him any more blows like this, he was going to start equating intimacy with deception.

Her heart ached for him.

She suddenly felt a strong desire to get up, take both his hands in hers and pull him out of that chair, put her arms around him and crush him to her body in the fiercest embrace she was capable of. Let him take immediate, tangible, physical comfort from her. Then take his face in both her hands and force him to look her in the eyes; find a way to make him believe that he wasn't a fool. Make him see, feel, believe that he was a good man, an intelligent, capable, brave, sensitive man who had just been incredibly unlucky. Twice. Make him believe that not everyone who offered him intimacy had an ulterior motive or a sinister agenda.

Make him see that it wasn't him; he had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Twice.

Even as she rehearsed her argument, she knew it didn't sound convincing.

As she sat there watching him look down at the cup in his hands, she found herself considering again another possible explanation for some of this, an explanation that had been taking root in her mind in the last few hours.

Something she wasn't about to share with him in a hurry.

She had been wondering if it were possible that both the women who had manipulated him to serve their own agenda in recent years had actually decided on their specific course of action, precisely because of the man he was.

Kathryn tried to imagine what would've happened if Chell had been in command of that Maquis cell years ago. Would Seska have set her sights on him in the same way? Would her tactic still have been to worm her way into his affections, into his bed? Somehow Kathryn thought that unlikely.

Similarly, had it been Neelix piloting the shuttle that had answered the distress call, would Riley have decided to go about things in the same way?

Kathryn suspected that it was possible, probable even, that both these woman had chosen their very intimate, and hence all the more effective, methods of manipulation because the man was trusting, generous and lonely, and happened to be absolutely gorgeous as well. Bet they couldn't believe their luck.

Riley had seen inside his mind, heard his thoughts, felt his feelings, and seen a weakness she could exploit. Felt his loneliness no doubt, felt the full force of his unfulfilled needs.

As well as an opportunity for herself, perhaps she'd have seen him as an opportunity for her collective. During the link, she would have felt the love and passion he was capable of, and seen how his life on board Voyager afforded no channel of release for those powerful emotions. She must have seen his neediness as her surest route to getting further inside his head, for the purpose of reestablishing control more easily, after the direct link had been terminated.

Kathryn was under no illusions as to what Riley Fraser was capable of. She believed Riley had done all she could to keep the residual link active, so as to provide her collective with a back-up plan, in case Chakotay's captain didn't agree to their proposal. Having served Starfleet herself, Riley must have had a pretty accurate idea of how unlikely it was that a Starfleet captain would ever agree to re-activate a Borg generator.

Kathryn had sensed almost immediately that there was something more than friendly co-operation going down between him and Riley Fraser, when the woman had spent time on the ship, trying to make her case. More had gone on between them down on that planet than just healing; all her instincts had been telling her that.

He'd been stranded down there for three days; she'd had plenty of time to plan exactly how to use him. He had been at his most vulnerable. Riley had taken advantage of him at a point when he had absolutely no defenses, no choices left.

Just thinking about it again was making her furious.

She took a deep breath to get her emotions in check and said, "This wasn't something we could have predicted or prepared for, Chakotay. Surely you can see that?"

"So, you're telling me that this could've happened to anyone? That if Tuvok had answered their distress call, he would've ended up doing everything that I did?"

She was floored for a split second at how some aspects of his deepest fears mirrored hers of a moment ago. She tried to keep all of that out of her expression as she replied, "Yes, I am; it could have happened to any one of us."

"I'm not buying it. I even repaired the damn transmitter that made it possible for them to do this to me. I might as well have just told them to leave the transceiver where it was, embedded in my skull." As he said this, his hand went to his neck and he rubbed the skin there.

"I know you don't believe it right now, but I would've done the same; Tuvok would've done the same."

"Maybe." That was clearly as much as he would concede.

They sat in silence, both lost to their thoughts for several minutes. She needed to ask him something, but she wasn't sure how to begin. She looked across at him, and realised he'd been studying her face.

"Why don't you just ask?"

"Ask what?"

"You tell me. Whatever it is that you've been wanting to ask me since sickbay. I can see it in your eyes, Kathryn."

She held his gaze, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. She had no idea it'd been that obvious. It wasn't going to be easy, but she had to know. Either she could ask him outright, or she could order the Doctor to allow her access to his medical records and in doing so involve the Doctor in his misery too, as well as breach his doctor-patient confidentiality. She had to choose. She decided it'd be better to keep it between the two of them.

She licked her lips nervously, swallowed and then asked, "Are you up to date with your boosters?"

The colour rushed to his face. Whatever he'd thought she was going to ask, it sure as hell wasn't this. She could see he was rocked by the implications of her question. She realised that until that moment, he must have believed that no one had suspected anything had gone on between him and Riley, other than her having organised and been part of the communal link that had first healed, and then controlled him.

She could see that he was absolutely mortified by having to address this, with her of all people. Damn. Perhaps she should've left this to the Doctor after all? Guess this day had just gotten even worse for him. Bet he hadn't thought that were possible.

He took a deep breath and looked down. Slowly he raised his gaze to meet hers and nodded.

Thank God.

At least that was something. She just didn't know how either of them would've coped with another woman reappearing light years down the road home, pregnant, or trailing a small child she claimed was his. Another woman armed with a powerful means of fresh manipulation and conflict.

He hadn't objected to the question or demanded she explain this intrusion into his privacy. That was an answer in itself.

He leaned forward slightly and brought his hands up to his face and pressed his face into them, elbows still resting on the table. Now they both felt worse; but she'd had no option. Ship's security had to come first.

She didn't know how to take the conversation further from that point. She didn't actually want to know anything other than that, and hoped to God he wasn't about to volunteer any details. Knowing him as she did, she thought that was unlikely.

He rubbed his neck, at the base of his skull again. She'd noticed him do it already. The cortical monitor was on the other side of his neck.

"Is the monitor making you uncomfortable?" she asked.

He lifted his head, clasped the mug of tea again and looked up briefly as he answered, then let his gaze drop to the cup in his hands. "No."

As he didn't seem to be about to offer any further explanation she pressed on, "Well, what is it then?"

He sighed and finally looked up again to meet her eyes properly. "The neural transceiver. I can still feel it."

"Was it painful?"

"No, not really. The Doc says there's nothing there."

"But you can still feel it?"

"Yes."

"May I?" she asked as she gestured towards his neck.

He nodded permission and sat up slightly in the chair.

She stood up and moved around the small table to stand behind him. She looked down at the back of his head and his broad shoulders and thought how much she loved him.

Just like that.

She stood completely still for a second as the thought settled.

She still had the presence of mind to know she couldn't just stand there immobile for ever, so pretty much on automatic pilot, she moved her fingers across the side of his neck to the base of his skull, to search for the patch of skin that he had irritated with his scratching. She felt the muscles of his neck tense slightly beneath her fingers.

She wondered if her heart could've picked a worse time to reveal this to her? It'd be laughable if it weren't so cruel.

The other night on Lake George would've been a bit more convenient, thank you very much! If only she could've come to the full realisation of how her feelings for him had evolved that evening, during that wonderful moment of calm, before they'd entered this region of space and all this chaos had unleashed itself.

What on earth was she supposed to do with this revelation now?

He'd just been manipulated into intimacy that may well have led directly to brainwashing; he couldn't be more wary of anyone initiating anything with him right now, and here she was, wanting nothing more than to pull him into her arms. She wanted to drive any thoughts of this whole miserable situation out of his mind, blasting all that into insignificance with the force of the feelings she had for him right now.

She supposed at least she could be honest with herself now. Part of her discomfort around Riley Fraser had been the result of jealousy. That had been the undercurrent to her feelings about Riley that she hadn't wanted to examine too closely. Now she acknowledged it for what it was.

The woman had been fishing about inside his head. She probably knew more about how he felt about everything, about her, than she did. And whose fault was that?

No, she'd was damned if she was going to let herself make this into something she should feel guilty about too. Chakotay was clearly shouldering enough guilt for the two of them.

Riley had had access to his hopes and fears, to his heart. Kathryn would never know him that intimately, not unless their worst fears were realised and they were all assimilated of course - there was always that…

She was amazed at the working of her own heart. Why on earth had she just had that thought now? On the back of probably the most awkward conversation she'd ever had with him!

It made no sense.

Surely she should feel betrayed about what he'd done down there? But she didn't.

Jealous, hell yes, but betrayed? No. He wasn't beholden to her. She had asked for no promises from him. When he'd opened himself up to her on New Earth, she'd sat there and said nothing. Riley must have offered him what she had withheld, and he'd responded. That didn't make him anything other than human.

She shook herself mentally as she gently touched the irritated skin on one side of his neck where the transceiver had been. She circled it with her fingertips, hoping it would have a soothing effect. His skin was warm, very warm to the touch. She so desperately wanted to make him feel better. To somehow make him feel right now everything she felt for him but couldn't express, make him feel it through her hands, now when he needed it.

She rested her other hand on the other side of his neck below the cortical monitor, and continued to make slightly larger circles with her fingers, radiating out from the irritated skin, pressing into his neck muscles and up into his scalp in a firm, massaging movement.

As she increased the pressure of her touch, he let out a barely audible groan, and his head fell slowly back to rest against her body. As he did so, she moved the fingers of both hands up into his hair at the back of his head, to massage his scalp. Weaving her fingers into his thick hair, she applied enough pressure to firmly massage the contours of his skull. Eventually, she felt her way to his jaw muscles and worked her fingers rhythmically over the muscles with synchronous motions, on either side of his face.

She needed desperately to make him feel that she still trusted him. That she trusted him now, with herself. She couldn't bear to think that he believed he'd let her down again. She wanted him to know that she had faith in him; that he would get past this. Make him remember that intimacy didn't have to be inextricably linked to manipulation. That he could hold someone's interest and affections in his own right.

What her feelings for Mark and her engagement to him still meant to her she would need to reflect on later. Since the meditation Tuvok had guided her through, she had been feeling that the Alpha Quadrant was further away than ever, despite the fact they were now three years closer to home. The feelings she was developing for this man here, in front of her now were real, immediate and powerful. Were she ever to give free reign to them, she suspected they would be more real and more powerful than anything she had ever felt for anyone. This was her life now, here, and he was located squarely in the middle of it, significant to her in every way.

She was well aware life out here was having an impact on both of them. They had both moved on already from the people they'd been when they'd been stranded here and forced together.

The toll this crazy quadrant had exacted on him so far did seem disproportionally high, but his role meant he was always going to be first in the line of fire; it was unavoidable. The implications of that for her, now she had begun to acknowledge how much she felt and suspected she could feel for him, were not something she was ready to even try and think about yet either.

She knew that recently, she had been aware of some of these subtle changes in herself almost as they were taking place. She was questioning things she wouldn't have questioned before. Accepting other things she might have not have accepted.

She just hoped that life here didn't stretch their faith in each other to breaking point, as this connection she could feel with him was still in its infancy in many ways, and would need nourishment if it were to survive.

As she continued to massage his scalp, moving her fingers to his temples, and pressing firmly into the soft tissue, she felt him lean back more and relax into her touch a little more.

"You have healing hands, Kathryn," he said, his voice low.

"I hope so," she replied, and smiled.

She offered a silent prayer that they would find a way to feed this connection between them, despite all the obstacles in their lives here. And that one day it would be possible to allow these feelings the focus they deserved. That there would be a time for that.