A/n: I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.
Chakotay blinked, his eyes, already gritty with exhaustion, irritated by the sweat dripping from his brow. Even with the sun still relatively low in the sky, the day was already heating up. Last night's plasma storm must've cleared the atmosphere enough to allow the sun's rays to really beat down. Annika's decision to march them through the forest before the crack of dawn now struck him as less of a fit of pique than grim common sense, he almost missed the damp chilly mist blanketing him as well as those indomitable trees. With a grunt, he braced his muscles once more as he picked up his pace, lifting rather than dragging his burden. To the surprise of them all, perhaps even himself, Magnus Hansen had been extremely obliging in providing research into New Earth's pathogen for Kathryn to pour over, he'd even pressganged Annika into staying with them to provide assistance and translation. This was such a turn around that it had dented Kathryn's eagerness, made her wary, but Magnus' charming, if harried, insistence had led her to submit to it, and the three of them had been loaded down with bags filled with notes and samples before setting off. It was as if Annika and her father's attitudes had switched in terms of being accommodating, he strongly suspected she would've refused to spend another second beyond what was necessary, to their faces, if her father's sudden blast of warmth hadn't wrong-footed her as much as himself and Kathryn. Even then, he knew that it was the promise of medicine for her mother from the replicator than had clinched an extension to Annika's services. Could he blame her for any of that? No, not really.
He kept one careful eye on Annika and Kathryn walking steadily ahead of him, slowing his own pace once more to maintain the gap between them as the two women picked their way awkwardly over the debris strewn ground. The forest was far behind them now, they were almost back 'home', but the more familiar, friendly meadows had actually suffered more heavily from the plasma storm. Without the safety in numbers of the denser forest, much of the foliage he'd wandered through and admired the day before was stripped almost bare, and the uneven ground was littered. It was a scene of destruction that felt all the more incongruous under the serene blue skies and almost eerie calm. Through the two women were speaking quietly, most of their words reached his ears, the tone sticking in his throat. Apparently Kathryn's earlier advice hadn't merited the cold shoulder like being the target of said advice had. If anything they were more amiable than before, though the conversation hadn't delved beyond the small talk of weather patterns and geography. That's where he'd gone wrong, trying to talk about something meaningful, trying to get to know the only people on this godforsaken planet! He sighed, wetting his dry throat with a resigned gulp as he pushed down the impotent but gnawing frustration that had become his constant companion here.
You know she was right, a persistent, taunting, rational voice that sounded oddly like Tuvok, whispered through his brain. You were getting too involved too quickly, that's why you're backing off now. Chakotay bit his lip as his eye caught the sun glinting off Annika's golden hair, self-consciously lowering his gaze. What was he, a magpie? He was proving Kathryn's point by thinking on it too much, he had enough to worry about, they all did. Giving Annika space after such an intense 24 hours was only reasonable, particularly after Kathryn having made her opinion known. Well-intentioned it had been, but couldn't she have 'warned' him in private instead of within Annika's earshot as she nursed her dying mother? Would you have listened to her if Annika hadn't overhead, reacted, and proved it true on some level? The logical inner voice asked. He frowned darkly, clearly able to imagine himself shrugging her off or becoming overly defensive. Okay, he had gotten in too deep yesterday, his joy and relief at finding other people on this planet, something that lifted the constant anxiety for everyone he knew and had cared for, the depressing, certain, monotonous future for himself and Kathryn, that sudden influx of positive emotion had propelled him along faster than was wise, he knew that. Perhaps he'd been incautious in his head and his heart in those first few heady, surreal hours, but he wasn't going to apologise for showing Annika, whether she was a stranger or not, kindness and empathy. They might not be on Earth, with no prospect now of returning to it, but that didn't mean he was going to be inhumane. Kathryn seemed to believe that he was going to act like a caveman, fulfilling every First Officer stereotype in regards to beautiful and exotic women, thrown together in dramatic circumstances… He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head dismissively at Kathryn when she glanced back at him curiously, Annika didn't even bother. His heart twisted and suddenly he felt more tired than ever, emotionally weary. He supposed he should've accepted by now that Kathryn didn't trust his judgement, not with women anyway, memories of his tortured entanglements with Seska ran too deep and were too fresh, her deception with Tom just weeks ago had revealed that mistrust once more. Perhaps it was justified, maybe on Voyager it had been fair enough, but to cast that up here? Damn it, he couldn't trust himself with Seska, but did that mean that that…relationship would poison everything else he touched? Affect his judgement so drastically? Give him ulterior motives in the eyes of others…and in his own?
"It looked from your father's map that you've travelled several square miles around where your ship crashed, and not just in this direction." Kathryn remarked to Annika as they walked. Her feet were killing her. Obviously her games of Velocity on the holodeck hadn't been enough to keep her fit.
"Absolutely." Annika confirmed, "Of course, my parents were constrained somewhat at first because I was so young, and now their health isn't up to…" She trailed off, lips whitening. "But we did get a few years of roaming quite far, of exploring."
Kathryn looked at her keenly, "It must've been an experience." Annika's nod was almost reluctant, but once she'd committed her eyes were sincere, even as they pinched a little at some memory. "You must've found new supplies, made new discoveries." Kathryn pressed on.
Annika flashed her a wry, already knowing, smile. "Don't worry, Papa has supplied you with almost every sample from those excursions. You're not missing anything." She grimaced slightly, regretting her choice of words, but was quickly able to disassociate the expression with her words by gesturing down at the rocks underfoot. The Starfleet Captain had already stubbed her toes painfully several times.
"I would hope not." She replied, careful to keep her tone neutral, but her hands twisted together apprehensively all the same. "You and your family have certainly been able to utilise everything, plants, wildlife, technology…" They practically have a siege mentality, she thought to herself suspiciously as she thought of the compound in the woods, the mysterious shield. "That technology, it could feasibly be retrofitted for communication couldn't it?" she blurted out, "At least subspace communication?"
Annika glanced at her sharply, stopping in her tracks. "You want to contact Voyager?"
"I…" Words failed Kathryn for a moment as emotion and rationale battled within her. Was that what she was asking? She herself had ensured that there was little point, she'd made the call on Voyager leaving them behind. Her last order as Captain was for the crew to continue on the journey home without delay. She knew most of her crew believed they'd given up too soon, but she'd been firm. The thought of stranding the crew a second time around had been too much. By calling them back, what would she be doing? Prolonging the inevitable? Undermining Tuvok? Suddenly, she recognised why Chakotay had been so aggravated by her attempts to find a cure. She'd surrendered to fate enough to send their crew away for good, but not enough to settle down on this planet and accept things. Maybe she was really hoping that her crew would disobey her in her absence? That wasn't exactly a redeeming thought, expecting, wanting, her crew to be lost without her. Well, sometimes the emotions and reasoning behind actions couldn't be fitted into neat little boxes, they were messy and tangled. "I don't know." She finally admitted softly, "There would be no logic to it, as an old friend of mine would say." She tried to smile at that, but found herself having to gulp back a lump in her throat. "I ordered them to leave us behind for a reason." She reminded Annika, and herself, forcefully, "Maybe if I'd found that miraculous cure but…" She stopped herself, still not quite ready to give up on that despite her inner reprimands, "At least they'd know Chakotay and I aren't alone here, that might comfort them." She couldn't quite restrain her pained sigh.
"Yes, I'm sure that it would comfort them." Annika agreed quietly, guilt and sorrow swirling in her gut. Her father had told her to expect the question on communication capability, and she herself had been anticipating it even before she'd known their story, but now that she was faced with the scenario, she found it harder to deflect than she'd imagined. The raw grief etched into the older woman's strong features, the sincere anguish in her voice, was just too powerful to ignore. Annika was acutely aware of who she needed to protect, but she wasn't heartless and could see that Kathryn too, needed some sort of protection from their situation. Maybe it would all work out happily, for all of them. "Honestly, I'm unsure." She replied awkwardly, able with that unrevealing truth to at least look her in the eye. "We've never had anyone to contact, but…" She hesitated, then said carefully, "Perhaps it is possible, it may well be, with a little work and time."
Kathryn smiled at her gratefully, giving her unscarred arm a small squeeze. "That's a good philosophy, time used properly and a lot of work can achieve miracles." Her voice became husky, even as her eyes brightened with hope, "Like getting one ship across the galaxy."
"I hope so." Annika murmured sincerely, "Truly."
Kathryn smiled at her again in acknowledgement but was ready to change the subject. She stopped to glance back at Chakotay, paradoxically feeling both relieved that he was wise enough to keep his distance and disappointed in him that he could be discouraged so easily. "I'd better wait and see how Chakotay's doing, you can lead on." She suggested. Annika's only response to nod and keep walking. "Do you want me to take some of those off your hands for a while?" she asked, indicating the bags Annika was lugging.
Annika continued to look straight ahead, "No." she answered stiffly, only belatedly adding, "Thank you."
"Alright." Kathryn agreed simply, guilt beginning to stir inside her. Annika had refused from the start to take Chakotay up on the offer to carry part of her share of the load, as for herself, she'd accepted the offer at once, although it was Annika who was the worst for wear from the evening before, chalk faced, eyes subtly red rimmed and hooded with shadow. With a sigh, she let the stubborn young girl go ahead and waited for Chakotay. She didn't regret what she'd said to Chakotay, she stood by it, in fact it was preferable too that Annika had caught a glimpse of what the two of them were acting like from someone outside their bubble, they were both self-aware now, but she did wish she'd been more tactful in the telling. Maybe not for Chakotay's sake, he expected her to just speak her mind, but she doubted Annika understood that it hadn't really been a reflection on her. She certainly hadn't set out to hurt the girl, and now she couldn't help but berate herself for probably burning bridges where there were already too few. Chakotay's connection with Annika had been useful, even if it did concern her…
Chakotay prodded her out of her thoughts succinctly, "Communications Kathryn?"
She instantly bristled, "Don't even say anything. I know that…"
"I was going to say that it would be a good thing if it were possible." Chakotay cut her off levelly, "Certainly we shouldn't ignore it if the possibility is there. Voyager isn't out of reach yet, and I doubt they've given up yet either."
She shot him a fleeting look of accusation. "You've never given me the impression of believing any of that up until now." She reminded him incredulously.
Chakotay rolled his broad, tense shoulders, the closest the self-contained man could get to an expression of stress when his guard was up, though Kathryn knew that, had one of his hands been free, he would've run it briefly through his hair. "Of course I wanted to believe in all that, and more." He retorted in a low voice, "But clinging to that hope for dear life would've made me even more miserable, I was trying to move forward and be practical."
She could've said so much to that, but held her tongue in favour of keeping the peace. "Fair enough." She answered eventually. They walked together in silence for a few minutes before Kathryn, who'd been watching Annika plough on ahead of them, asked abruptly, "Did you ask Annika how she was burned?"
Chakotay turned dark, narrowed eyes on her. "Did you ask her?" he countered pointedly.
"No." She replied at once, "No, of course not." She shook her head sheepishly, it only occurred to her then, shamefully that earlier accusing Chakotay of 'playing with fire' in regards to Annika, a burns victim, had been cruelly thoughtless. "Sorry."
Chakotay sighed heavily, regarding her dubiously. "Why do you ask?" he muttered reluctantly, already aware he wouldn't like the answer.
"Because, well…" Kathryn bit her lip, "Her injuries were obviously serious, probably even life-threatening at the time, but now they're relatively well healed…"
"And that's a good thing." Chakotay reminded her impatiently.
"Of course it is." Kathryn replied irritably, "But how did they treat her? We know that neither of her parents are medical doctors, and we've seen how limited their supplies are. Erin Hansen is dying of a treatable condition!" Chakotay flinched but she continued, "Wouldn't burns like the require specialist treatment? Specially designed dermal regenerators? Repeated skin grafts as she grew? The fire was obviously close to one eye, but something saved her vision…"
Chakotay spoke through a clenched jaw. "Maybe they had more supplies back then that have gotten depleted over the years…" He started to suggest, his agitation building as he realised he didn't sound convincing. "Maybe she was just lucky!" He finished heatedly, glaring at Kathryn in exasperation, "Does it matter? In the grand scheme of things?" he demanded.
Kathryn considered him before deciding to back off. "No, probably not." She conceded.
Annika meanwhile, had moved further ahead. Far enough in fact, that she was on the limits of the range of their Universal Translators, their lowered voices reaching her ears as muffled English. She neither moved closer, nor strained to understand, she'd decided she hardly cared what they said. Of course, Captain Janeway's words had stung, but she'd drawn almost as much relief as pain and offence from the sentiment. Her mother's irrational hopes in that direction, the pressure of them, could be dismissed without her sticking her neck out. She grit her teeth as she tried to mould her emotions to follow that line of thought, marching over the rough ground to try to expel her frustration. Yes, Janeway had done her a favour! She wasn't desperate. If Janeway, who knew her First Officer much better than she did, felt the need to rein in his apparently rampant and undiscerning libido, she was better off without such a man!
She funnelled her feelings of rejection into the old, deep channel of being dismissed from her own home. Her father had sent her away with these people without even asking her, while her mother was ill and needed her! Was she supposed to roam the planet like a lone wolf whenever her parents got overwhelmed? Of course, rationally she realised that her father was likely meeting with Zuslan and the others while she kept the Starfleet officers at a distance, but she also knew her father would tell her little of what was discussed and debated. Nariella, the gossip of the group, would tell her everything anyway, but that was hardly the point. Her resentment was fuelled by exhaustion, her legs felt like lead and her head was pounding. She wanted to go home! Now that every moment with her mother was precious, she hardly had a right to leave… Her eyes began to burn threateningly as her mind tried and failed to recoil from the precipice, the chilling numbness of certain loss… Instinctively, she sped up, began to run…
Her body slammed against the ground as her foot caught something, her hands sprawling frantically over the dirt. "Sjutten också!" she exclaimed angrily, cursing more strongly as pain shot up her leg when she struggled upright.
"What happened?" Chakotay and Kathryn demanded as one, both having broken into a jog to reach her as they'd watched her fall.
Annika glanced down at the offending obstruction as she stood, ignoring their extended hands even as she wobbled. "I tripped on a molehill." She muttered.
"A molehill?" Kathryn echoed dubiously even as she saw that the solid mound of earth by Annika's foot did look like a molehill.
"They're like mole-weasel hybrids, their burrows can run underground for several kilometres." Annika explained.
"A cross between a mole and a weasel? Will we see one?" Chakotay asked dubiously.
"You don't want to, they eat anything growing." Annika muttered darkly while grimacing in pain.
Chakotay could see why, not only was her ankle probably twisted, given the awkward way she was standing, but something sharp on the ground had opened a gaping gash up her shin from the base of her knee to the top of her ankle. "You shouldn't be standing on that leg." He told her worriedly.
"No." Kathryn agreed, somewhat squeamishly. "We haven't got more than half a kilometre to go, Chakotay and I know where we are now. You stay here and we'll go to our camp and then bring back a medical kit…"
"No." Annika cut her off shortly, "I'm fine."
"You want to keep going?" Chakotay asked incredulously, eyeing her leg wound, it was already bleeding copiously.
Annika arched her mismatched brows, a sardonic glint in her pained eyes. "I'll walk slowly." She assured him drily.
"Yes, you will…" Chakotay replied with a sigh, bending to rifle through the boxes. "Maybe there's something in here…"
"There isn't, it's all research." Kathryn informed him, "Aren't there any…natural supplies you can find to help? On Earth willow bark can be used as a painkiller, right? There have to be certain natural substances here with are antiseptic…" To Chakotay's wry amusement, she looked to him as well as Annika for an answer, as if she expected him to pull some magical Indian medicine out of his ass. He'd need to gently remind her again that while his upbringing had been colonial and traditional, it hadn't been backward, he was as much a child of the 24th Century Federation as she was. Even if he had been some sort of medicine man, this planet had its own unique ecosystem!
Annika was equally sceptical, perhaps even more so. "Yes, there will be, but I think I'd rather keep walking than have to search through all this botanical research then head back to the forest on a foraging expedition."
Kathryn flushed, then managed a tired but self-deprecating laugh that redeemed her. "Of course you would." She conceded, "I can get a little carried away." She shook her head, "I do remember, at your camp, that your father was crushing some kind of flower as a painkiller and sedative for your mother though."
Chakotay saw Annika's eyes widen, her complexion draining further until her face was almost grey. She looked as if Kathryn had just punched her in the gut. She gulped repeatedly, then tensed as she regained control of herself. "Yes…" She confirmed stiltedly, "The opiate isn't actually in the flower, but the root." Her eyes hardened, mouth tight as her tone became vehement, "The high takes away the pain, but the downer isn't worth that. It brings things back…vividly." She set her jaw firmly, her face shutting down further. "So don't take it unless you're desperate, it's too easy to become addicted."
Chakotay was disturbed, the violent revulsion in her reaction reminded him of his maternal grandparents, first generation immigrants to Dorvan V from Guatemala, and their attitude to drugs. The bloodshed and tragedy that the illegal drugs industry of the 20th and 21st Centuries had wreaked on their recent ancestors was embedded in the collective memories of their communities. Though they'd respected the practice of using stimulants for ceremonies such as vision quests, he knew his grandmother in particular had been wary of even that. However, Annika's reaction had been more personal. Was it possible she'd once been drugged? Had Annika's burns been so bad that she'd had to endure doses of hallucinogens to ease the physical pain? As a child? He didn't want to imagine that. He could see that the cogs in Kathryn's brain were turning and that she was opening her mouth to question, but stepped in before she could do so. "Then we're just going to have to go back to absolute basics." He said quietly, removing the light cotton shirt he wore over his Starfleet issue vest and briskly tearing off a few strips that weren't already damp with his sweat. "Bandages." He murmured as Annika stared at him, kneeling down to start wrapping her legs before she could refuse out of stubborn pride.
"Oh…" Annika winced as he applied pressure, pitching forward until she had to grasp his shoulders to keep herself upright. Traitorously, she felt herself blush even with the pain in her leg to distract her. "Thank you." She told him in a heartfelt whisper, aware that he'd purposefully changed the subject, she'd seen it in his face, his concerned eyes. She swallowed with difficulty, "Can we please keep going now?" She hated the plea she could hear in her own voice.
"I think so." Kathryn replied kindly, exchanging a glance with Chakotay before she touched Annika's shoulder. "You've had to spin out the medicine you have, anyone would understand that." She assured her quietly, "You can replicate every medicine in our replicator when we get back to camp if you wish, but we'll treat that leg first, okay?"
"Okay." Annika submitted, easily now. She didn't make any objection when Chakotay stood up and began to help her walk.
The images filled her mind, each fighting for dominance. The voices were so loud, drowning out her own thoughts in their desperate racket. She was being pushed out, yes, but neither would they let her go. She disappeared under the waves, then resurfaced, screaming for the others as well as herself… Pain sparked at the base of her skull, buried itself deep, and then spread. Inescapable. Feeling returned to her deadened skin as thousands of knives gouging at her… Unbearable. Irresistible. No, no, no!
"Annika! Annika, wake up!" Chakotay said urgently, shaking her shoulders hard until the blanket Kathryn had covered her with earlier fell off.
Annika's eyes shot open, but they were glazed, staring at him without recognition as her chest heaved for air. Her skin was deadly white, gleaming with cold sweat. "What happened?" she asked weakly as she blinked dazedly. "Where are we?"
Chakotay started to reach out to steady her, but thought better of it. "You're in Kathryn and I's shelter." He reminded her carefully, "You'd fallen asleep, but just now you were having a nightmare." He took a deep breath to steady his own nerves. He'd come back in having spent the afternoon repairing mild storm damage to the shelter to find Annika in the grip of terror. Her leg had been treated as soon as they'd got back, and after being plied with iron pills by Kathryn, who'd realised with the help of a medical tricorder that the girl was seriously anaemic, she'd sat down to wait while Erin's medicine was replicated, and had fallen asleep almost at once. Her peace had apparently been short lived.
"Yes." Annika whispered, a little hoarsely in agreement. She had to blink several more times before the lurid green tinge left her vision, leaving her able to focus on Chakotay's handsome, anxious face. Still muddled, she slipped into staring at him, finding his eyes oddly soothing, absorbing. He was level with her, kneeling beside her, she was sitting on the floor.
Chakotay studied her worriedly, something wasn't right. She still seemed…absent somehow. Unconsciously, she clawed agitatedly at the base of her skull, wincing as she did so. Of course, it could just be a crick in her neck, but… "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked cautiously.
"No." Annika assured him, a little colour returning to her face, "It is…irrelevant." She cringed at the slip and hurriedly tried to stand, though she was shaking like a leaf. Once again, Chakotay had to steady and stand with her. "Is everything ready for me to leave?" she questioned abruptly.
"The last few items on your list of medicines are still being replicated." Chakotay told her, "And anyway, I think you should rest a little more before making the walk back."
To his surprise, Annika didn't completely deny that. "Maybe." She admitted, but continually to glance around skittishly, unable to settle. "But isn't there anything I can do?"
Chakotay recognised the pattern right away, he'd distracted himself with mindless activity often enough. Part of him didn't want to offer her that excuse, but empathy won out. "Well, you could help me dismantle that bath…"
Annika was overtaken with a fit of nervous, near hysterical laughter, still breathless even as she pushed it back and met his eyes bravely. "Are you sure about that Commander? It does seem to be your only joke after all…"
Chakotay laughed, her wit finding its mark. "Okay then, in that case maybe we should just clean all the storm debris out…"
Magnus stumbled wearily into his bedroom, wincing at the sound of Erin's laboured breathing, the sight of her withered figure on the bed. Even the arrival of Zuslan and the others, their concern, their anxieties, their opinions all ringing throughout the whole house, hadn't roused her. He supposed he should feel grateful for that, but he couldn't summon up the will to feel anything. He was listless, bleak, he couldn't focus enough to think of Annika…
Erin moaned restlessly. Automatically, he moved to her bedside, taking a prepared vial of the root's extract and putting a few drops on her tongue. She instinctively recoiled and he grimaced. "I'm so sorry…" He whispered miserably, hardly hesitating before he titled the rest of the vial down his own throat, welcoming the painful burn…
A/n: Please review.
'Sjutten också!' translates as a Swedish equivalent to 'Damn it!' but maybe a little milder.