Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Chapter 10: Kathryn
I walk the deserted corridors of the station. Being back in space has brought back some old habits from Voyager, including my insomnia. Taking a walk through the decks is comforting, much like my midnight strolls through my ship. It gives me time to think, to clarify my mind, and make decisions.
There is hardly anyone about. I kind of like it this way. There is no one to stop and gawp at a celebrity admiral. To interrupt and ask me questions. To distract me from my thoughts. It is just me, the platform beneath my feet, and space.
I am here for the federation conference which begins tomorrow. It is a weeklong event, but I will only stay for the first couple of days before I head home to Earth. Tomorrow I spend the day pushing the development of trans warp technology, and in the evening I will be a special guest at the federation ball. After my presentation the following day, I will make my departure, and leave on a private shuttle.
I notice the time from a large clock in the central atrium: well after midnight, and decide that I should return to my room at least in an attempt to get some sleep before tomorrow. I consider calling Nicholas, there is a chance that he will still be awake, sat in his office working through the night. He would answer the comm., and smile, and ask why I am still up. And if he has gone to bed, he is a heavy enough sleeper to be undisturbed by the comm. noise, he would get up in the morning and see a missed call, and return it to wish me a good morning.
We married a couple of months ago after dating for only six. I think we surprised quite a few people with our haste, but to the both of us there seemed little point in waiting. We get on well, our life styles are very similar, and we were both ready to settle down. When we started discussing the possibility of children, Nicholas proposed, and I accepted. It seemed like the obvious next step.
He has issues though. I have only started to notice, and he assures me that it is fine, but I worry that it is only the tip of the iceberg. He has nightmares. He wakes up in a panic, drenched in sweat and disorientated. I will wrap my arms around him, and the comfort eventually settles him and allows him to fall back asleep. He will not tell me what he dreams about, but having been a Captain also, it is not difficult to imagine. Like me, he will have dark dreams, of regrets, of bad decisions, of enemies, of death. We are both haunted by our past, and in that commonality we find solace in each other.
What worries me most though is his use of medication. I was aware from the beginning of our relationship that he took drugs to aid his sleeping, but over time I have become concerned about his dependence on them. A few days ago I discovered pain medication he had obtained without a prescription and has no medical need for. I confronted him, and accused him of drug abuse.
We haven't rowed like that before. The fact that we did only further confirmed my suspicions. Nicolas had calmed by the time I left for deep space, and apologised for his reaction, promising me that I have nothing to worry about.
But I do worry. I worry about him, and about if we made the right decision to marry. And then selfishly I worry that I am not strong enough to carry both his burdens and my own. It is this thought which has been keeping me up tonight, which carries me through the decks of the space station, and back to my room.
As I reach the floor where I am staying, I notice a man wearing a Starfleet uniform stood outside the door to my hotel suite. I come to an instant standstill. My breath catches at the sight of this man, and I find myself frozen in place. I watch his profile as he raises a hand to knock, and then reconsiders, drops his hand and then stares at the door for a moment. Eventually, he shakes his head, and steps away completely, having made a decision not to disturb the guest: me. He turns away and begins to walk off in the opposite direction to where I am standing.
I consider calling out to him, to make my presence known, but my voice is caught in my throat.
However, he only takes a few steps before he pauses, again hesitating, as if wrestling with a decision. And then he turns to head back to the door and request entrance.
As he looks back round though, he must notice a figure standing staring at him, and his gaze instantly drifts up. Our eyes meet and lock onto one another, mine must hold confusion, his hold shock in one moment, and then something else I do not recognise for a while, but finally I do: longing.
"Kathryn?" Chakotay barely whispers my name, and his voice is a welcome sound that I think I had almost forgotten. I realise I miss the way his tongue curls around my name, how he articulates it, and varies his tone depending on his mood. He speaks it this time with something close to despair.
I find myself taking a few steps towards him. "What are you doing here?"
He blushes slightly, possibly wondering how long I had been standing there watching him. I wonder how long he was standing there hesitating outside the door to my hotel room.
"I heard you were here," the words slip out as if an honest confession he did not mean to make. He realises himself, and straightens somewhat. "On the station I mean," he elaborates, then shoots me that cheeky grin I know all too well, "I was passing through the area."
I raise an eyebrow. We have not seen each other in months. He left to become the first officer aboard the Pioneer, and we have hardly spoken since. I remember he called me shortly after my wedding to Nicholas, apologising for being unable to attend, but the conversation had been short, and stiff, and his apology obviously shallow. To be honest our friendship has been on the rocks for a long while, so I have made few, if any, attempts to keep in touch with him.
As we stand only feet apart from each other, all that has happened slips away. The distance that we created between us over the years closes, and every barrier we imagined is no longer there. Seeing him, I realise I have missed him incredibly, and I am unable to remember how we came to drift apart.
He closes the final gap between us, but hesitates before pulling me into an embrace. If we just hugged then it would mean that everything is okay, that our friendship is just as it had once been, that all is forgotten and forgiven. But he stops himself short, we are now only a whisper away, and this is suddenly more awkward that if we had simply embraced.
I end up making it worse in my attempt to make it better. I close the final gap and wrap my arms around his neck, leaning the side of my face against his shoulder. His arms come up stiffly around me, as if unsure what to do. This moment is possibly the most uncomfortable and painful that we have ever shared. For the first time in years we are ill defined and in flux. We have not yet established the rules of our relationship outside of the command structure, I don't think either of us ever realised that we would have to.
We pull back, and I am actually grateful for it. "Where's the Pioneer?" I ask, where's Seven?
"We lost inertia during our last warp flight. Every time we tried to move the ship it felt like my insides were being thrown against the bulkhead." He grimaces slightly. Usually I would laugh at his dry summary, but I don't, and I think he notices. "So we dropped to propulsion and found a moon to orbit. I took a shuttle here to pick up some supplies for repairs."
"Alone?" I ask.
He tips his head, but does not answer. "I've missed you," he confesses, and for the first time I notice his sadness.
I frown. "You could have called," I point out.
He glances away, "it's not the same," he points out, "besides, I wasn't sure why you..." he stops himself and takes a breath. "It doesn't matter, I shouldn't have come."
"No." I reach out and instinctively take his hand, he looks down at my grasp and then back up at me. There is something dark in his eyes that makes me feel ill at ease. I drop his hand. Suddenly I wish we had defined some more barriers before we embarked on this next stage of our lives... perhaps this chance meeting would have been easier. "I'm glad to see you," I reassure him.
Chakotay looks at me with a fraction of hope held in his eyes. I realise I have to do something to quell that hope, to establish a boundary that we should not cross. "How is Seven?" I ask, and instantly wish that I hadn't, as the light fades from his eyes.
"Fine," he says quickly, then seems to reconsider himself, and his face drops slightly. Finally my friend lets out a long sigh, "to be honest I can tell she hates being onboard the Pioneer. The crew irritate her, she finds her job mundane and unchallenging... and as a result, we are struggling."
For a moment I really feel for him, he is obviously having some difficulty in his marriage. With anyone else I suppose I would be offering an ear to bend, and some gentle guidance, however I find his relationship with Seven difficult to accept. When they first announced their association soon after Voyager returned, to be honest I could not have cared less. I was too busy with arranging our return to Earth, too caught up with guaranteeing the freedom of my Maquis and Equinox crew, distracted by reuniting with my family and friends and worn out by the debriefings which went on for ten weeks, that I hardly noticed the two of them as they grew closer.
I remember when Chakotay first told me they had begun dating. It had been briefly before we had disembarked Voyager, and I had not slept for thirty six hours. I am not sure what he was expecting, perhaps a jealous outrage, some tears, or bittersweet disappointment, instead all he got was a stiff nod followed by a tired smile as I wished them both well. It was he who had almost looked disappointed by my response.
It was only after the rush of our return was over that I really started to consider what we had missed out on. Earlier on in our journey there had been a spark between us, a promise of something more, if only the circumstances would allow it. On New Earth we had come dangerously close to losing those last remaining barriers, but Voyager had come to rescue us perhaps only days before we had taken that last step. Eventually though, that spark had fizzled into an intimate friendship which I had been grateful for and cherished.
The years however took their toll on us, and I realise now that I had started to take his loyalty and friendship for granted. I had abused his feelings for me on a few occasions for my own ends, and damaged our relationship as a result. Chakotay and I had drifted apart in those last couple of years, and undoubtedly he had seen Seven as an opportunity to develop the intimacy that he so desperately craved. The intimacy that I had spent too many years denying him.
I feel sorry for him for only fractions of a second, before a rush of anger flows through me. He made a choice to marry Seven, to leave with her the first chance he got. He chose to give up on us, on our friendship, and any lingering potential that there had been. And now that his marriage is not working out as he had expected, he has come to find me, for what? To wallow? To apologise? To get my advice, and help fix his relationship for him?
My tone is harsh when I finally ask him the question, "what are you doing here Chakotay?"
He is taken aback for a moment, unsure how I have switched in temperament so suddenly. He takes it in his stride however, as if he has almost prepared himself for this reaction from me, considered it a possibility, and has already come to accept that I would reject him. He shrugs, "I'm not sure... I guess I just wanted to see you."
"And now you have?"
His shoulders sag, "I suppose now I know."
"Know what?"
"That our friendship really is over."
His words are heartbreaking, gut wrenching... truthful? Is our friendship really over? Did we lose so much on Voyager that there is nothing left to salvage? When I return to study his face again, I see such pain and hurt there, that I feel myself mirroring it, and suddenly I want nothing more than to comfort him, and make everything right again.
I reach up a hand to hold the side of his face, my fingers trace his tattoo, my thumb caresses his chin, his cheek, his lips. When he leans forwards to kiss me, it is the first moment that this encounter does not feel awkward. When he takes his strong arms around me it feels perfect, and natural. When I release the access codes to the hotel room it doesn't feel wrong, like I know it should.
Our kiss deepens, and the doors close behind us. He has me against the bulkhead, one hand on the wall to support himself, another on my hip both to support and caress me. He presses himself more firmly against me, and I recognise the desire in him as a accept my own for him.
Chakotay places a trail of kisses down my neck, as I take down the zip of his uniform jacket. His hands are everywhere on me at once, brushing my arse, cupping my breast, sliding up my inner thigh. We end up on my bed before I have really acknowledged what is happening, tearing off clothes between chaste kisses, wondering hands discovering new things about each other.
It is not quite as I imagined it would be. And I had plenty of time on Voyager to imagine. I thought that he would be either gentle or passionate depending on his mood, that he would be considerate regardless, and from time to time demanding. And although he is all of those things, there is another element that I had never envisaged: that he would be loving.
His caresses are not of a man seeking pleasure, but of tentative worship. His moves are not to achieve release, but in relish of each moment. His kisses are not hungry but searching and reassuring. And when he looks at me, and our eyes meet, it is as if he can will himself to read my mind, and share his own thoughts in return. We are in complete synchrony, and for the first time that we have ever been together, nothing else matters but the two of us.
Later that night, as he settles against me, his body curved up against mine, and an arm draped lazily across my body as sleep claims him, I consider what has just happened. I think deep down we both knew this would be inevitable the moment we returned to Earth. However, we had gotten so used to ignoring it on Voyager, by habit we continued to deny it on our return. He had been determined to give his relationship with Seven a fair chance, and by the time I realised what the two of them had become, it was too late for me to intervene. So by an unspoken agreement, we kept our distance, hoping that in doing so, whatever spark had been between us would eventually die out.
I realise now we had only ever left it smouldering. Waiting for an opportunity to reignite. Our chance meeting has created a flame, and I am worried that it could spread to a fire.
In Chakotay's arms I feel safe and loved, and I come to accept for the first time that I love him also. That it has always been him. That no one else is likely to compare. As I come to this conclusion a feeling of dread washes over me. How can I continue to love my husband when this other man has already taken my heart? How can I return to Nicholas knowing that he is not my first choice, that he is a safe and reliable second?
For a while I consider the alternative, of admitting my feelings to Chakotay. Perhaps he would decide to leave Seven, and we would make a go of it together. But I already know that the hurt we would leave in our wake would haunt us both, would keep us up at night, and drive a wedge between us. We would be unable to look at each other without being reminded of our mutual guilt. We would be judged not just by our friends and family, but also by the media and the public. It might last a few months, perhaps a year, but eventually the pressure would become too much. We would admit defeat, and part ways, promising to remain friends, but never doing so.
Our actions tonight however will have ripple effects. I was so close to loving Nicholas, but now I know it will never been the same as the way I feel for my best friend. My marriage will now be tainted by my indiscretion, and I will be forced to live a lie. But we have no alternative but to return to our lives, because it is too late to do a damn thing about it.
And in that moment I hate Chakotay.