Title: Coping
Rating: T
Author: Singing Violin
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Summary: Chakotay suspects something terrible has happened to the captain, and he wants to help, but when he tries, he only makes things worse. Very dark, but not graphic.
Disclaimer: The Star Trek characters and universe are not mine.
Author's Note (Chapter 11): So sorry for the delay on this. Real life. And missing my beta. Thank you to Lia Harkness for at least chatting with me vaguely about this, but she's got more important things to do now than beta for me, so this chapter, as the previous one, is self-beta'ed. Any errors are my fault, and please point them out if they're easily fixable!

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As the lady version of the emergency medical hologram worked around her patient, laying various pieces of equipment on and around her, Chakotay found himself once again clenching his fists against the overwhelming urge to touch the captain in an effort to convey some comfort to her. Or would contact serve more to comfort him? He became aware of his heart pounding in his chest, so forcefully he wondered if either of the other occupants of the room could hear it. He could also feel the stickiness of sweat beading inside his palms, and considered whether the captain was as nervous as he. She must be...her very brain was about to be manipulated...again.

He shuddered to think that the last time she'd undergone something like this, it had been voluntary, even her idea. This realization renewed his instinct to reach out and offer solace in the way to which he was accustomed. He remembered the very first time he'd touched Janeway: they'd just discovered the 37's, and been shown their impressive accomplishments and beautiful cities. After allowing all aboard to make their own choices, they were afraid that too many of the crew would want to join the residents of the planet, and the rest would be forced to stay because not enough crewmembers would remain to man the ship. Without consciously thinking about it, seeing her distress at the notion that she could be momentarily forced to abandon her primary mission, he'd reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder. She'd turned to him and given him a warm smile and nod, and again without consciously meaning to, he'd let out a sigh of relief because after all, he'd just touched his captain without permission, and she wasn't angry: in fact, she seemed to appreciate it.

He wondered if the reason he felt so comfortable reaching out to her was because she had already been so tactile with him, and with other members of the crew. He wasn't as eager to touch other members of the crew: he distinctly recalled leaving B'Elanna...or half of her?...crying in Voyager's Sickbay, waiting for her Klingon part to reassert itself; he'd departed without a word, let alone a comforting caress. He'd known he should do something, but had no idea what, so he'd walked out. He'd let Seska touch him, of course, but that was different, since they were involved...and the romantic entanglement ended badly. One might think he'd have been more cautious ever since, but with the captain, touch seemed an acceptable form of communication, and became part of the automatic lexicon...until recently. Because someone else touched her without permission, and that person's touch was clearly so unwelcome that she wanted to force herself to forget it. Only it hadn't quite worked.

He then found himself contemplating why it wouldn't have worked. He wasn't a neuroscience expert by any stretch of the imagination, but he knew that one of the tricks of remembering difficult facts was to connect them to what one already knew. So it made sense that, if blocking one memory hadn't eradicated its effect, that the memory might be intricately intertwined with others that hadn't been so easily found and compartmentalized. Has she been assaulted before? came the frightening and logical question. He bit his lip, hoping against hope that his rudimentary understanding of the intricate workings of the human mind was incomplete enough so that there was another explanation...any other explanation. To think of what had happened to her once, that perhaps he was about to find out more about, was torture enough, but to imagine that it was only one of many similar experiences was a thought he couldn't bear.

He consciously blocked his mind from further contemplation as he turned his attention back to the scene before him. The female doctor was removing the very equipment it seemed she'd just been maneuvering into position.

"Done already?" he found himself asking, his voice breaking and not-quite steady.

"It wasn't a complicated procedure," the hologram confirmed huffily, and the commander realized he must have betrayed his displeasure at the response with his facial expression when she shot him a dirty look and continued, "So to answer your question, yes. However, I have no idea how she'll react when she wakes up, which she will, momentarily, so you'd best keep your distance until she asks you to do otherwise."

Chakotay nodded. "I understand." His mind did, anyway. His heart wasn't so sure. But he exerted the last bit of control he had over himself to obey the feminine doctor's command to the best of his ability. Meanwhile, his mind raced away again, let free by the bonds now needed to restrain, once again, the rest of his body, which ached to get closer to rather than further away from his suffering friend.

He imagined all sorts of reactions, and his gaze darted around the room for potentially-needed supplies. Tissues in case she cried. A basin in case she were sick. The exit in case she immediately asked him to leave. Before he could find any of them, however, he caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye and immediately turned back to regard the patient herself as she awoke.

Her reaction stunned him more than anything he could have imagined. Or rather, it was the captain's lack of reaction that blindsided the commander. She sat stoically, steadily eyeing the holographic doctor, and Chakotay couldn't read her expression at all.

"Kathryn?" he found himself uttering softly, hoping that calling to her would elicit some sort of response.

She ignored him, but addressed her physician. "I would like to go back to my quarters now," she insisted plainly. "And I believe you promised to relieve me of duty after the procedure."

"No!" he exclaimed before he could censor the word.

Again, the lady doctor shot him a disapproving look before addressing her patient. "Chakotay's correct. I only agreed to evaluate your fitness for duty after the procedure, and I was confident we could fix your little problem once you had your memories back. Do you, in fact, remember something you didn't before?"

At that, Janeway sat up, swinging her legs over the biobed and wringing her hands in her lap. "Yes. The procedure worked, if that's what you're asking. But no, I'm not going to talk about it. Not with you or anyone else." Her voice cracked as she continued, "I just want to go home."

The EMH 1.1 sighed. "I'm sure you realize, Captain, that I cannot release you until I am sure you are well. You're my guest until this is resolved, regardless of what you want to do. And, if you were to walk out without a medical release, I could send security after you, and forcibly restrain you once you were returned safely, so I suggest you not attempt to 'give me the slip.'"

Chakotay was astonished at the female doctor's brazen remarks, but even more surprised at Janeway's response, which was to nod her head and solidly answer, "I understand. Fine, what do you need in order to release me?"

The hologram eyed her steadily for a moment before replying. "I need you to explain to me why you wish to be relieved of duty. In my experience, even when you are suffering, you are happiest while running this ship. You insisted upon returning to work immediately despite the official medical recommendation to 'take it easy' after you almost died in that shuttle crash with Commander Chakotay. So obviously, asking to be relieved of duty is a red flag. I can't just relieve any crew member who asks: you wouldn't allow it. You'd have a talk with whichever crewmember wanted out, and only let them go if they were an active threat to the ship for no reason of their own making, and in a way that couldn't be rectified: Kes, for example. And as I recall, you still agonized over the decision to send her away."

She's trapped, thought Chakotay, wondering if the captain would begin to panic again. I might, if I were in a similar position. Hell, I'm pretty sure I have. However, the captain appeared to be calmly contemplating her response, and eventually spoke.

"It's very simple, Doctor. I am an active threat to this ship, as long as I am her captain."

A holographic eyebrow went up slightly to indicate curiosity, or perhaps a simulation thereof. "You're going to have to explain that to me, Captain, because all I've ever seen is your saving the ship, saving the crew, making the best of bad situations. Furthermore, other members of this crew have knowingly put this ship in danger, through action or inaction, and other than Kes, those who are still alive are still on duty, as per your orders. To quote this ship's wise leader, we need every person aboard if we're going to make it home. And that includes you, Captain."

Janeway looked down and frowned at her hands in her lap. "I've put this ship in danger from day one, when I stranded us here in the Delta Quadrant to save the Ocampa. I flew us into a pair of binary pulsars, an action Tuvok called 'reckless.' I've been lucky, but it's time to stop giving me the opportunity, because luck eventually runs out. Chakotay will be a much better captain than I."

At that, Chakotay shook his head. "Why, because I'm a man? Or a former Maquis? I am one of those members of the crew who has put the ship in danger — most notably when I disobeyed your orders while you were incapacitated while working with the Borg against Species 8472 — and not only am I still on duty, but you're asking me to take over the ship."

Janeway startled slightly at his speech, turning to face him with an expression that indicated she'd forgotten he was still there. Of course she has, he thought. She's used to having me so near she can feel me, and I'm keeping my distance now.

"Yes," she whispered. Then, raising her voice only slightly, she continued, "Because you don't have the same vulnerabilities that I do. Vulnerabilities that could have gotten me — and other members of this crew — killed. It's time for me to step down so that we can make it home alive."

Chakotay resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You're the strongest person I know," he insisted. "And I'm pretty sure every member of this crew agrees. You're brave, gutsy, resilient, and brilliant. I can't imagine a better captain for this crew, and I dread the possibility that one day you might be killed and I'll have to take over, because I know I can't be to this crew what you are. Nobody can."

"You have no idea what I've done," she retorted angrily, once again lowering her gaze into her lap. "If you knew, you'd change your mind."

"Then tell me," Chakotay insisted. "Let me make up my mind for myself."

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