Title: Kes is Dead (Part 37)
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Author: Singing Violin
Rating: T
Disclaimer: TPTB own them, but they didn't do what I wanted with them, so I'm borrowing them for a bit. I'll give them back when I'm done.
Feedback: Yes please.
Archiving: Anywhere.

As Kathryn materialized, she saw the form of a Starfleet-uniformed man with his hands in the air. "Hey, don't shoot," she heard, and the voice was lighthearted and familiar.

Tom Paris.

At once she knew she was safe, and at that moment, she felt herself collapse, losing consciousness in a heap on top of her former first officer.

Tom raced towards her and lifted her up off the floor, noticing immediately the bloodstain on her pants. "Doctor," he called, "we have an emergency here. She's bleeding."

When Kathryn came to, she was on a cot, and the holographic doctor was looming over her. She blinked, gathering in her surroundings.

"At last, my favorite patient is awake," the doctor stated, and Kathryn couldn't tell whether he was happy about it, annoyed, or joking. Cautiously, she sat up, stilling an ancient reflex to immediately order a report.

The doctor handed her a glass. "Drink this," he ordered. She gulped. The liquid was slightly sweet, and she imagined it was loaded with essential nutrients, of which she was undoubtedly not getting enough. She found herself slightly annoyed at the coddling, but it did feel good to drink, and she marveled at the fact that, for the first time in weeks, she wasn't remotely nauseous. This revelation led to the fear that perhaps the doctor had given her some medication that might be a risk to the baby. Oh god, the baby. The doctor would have scanned her and figured out she was pregnant, and wouldn't give her anything harmful to her unborn child…right?

Filled with fear that she wouldn't get an answer she liked, she resorted to asking about something else first. "Chakotay," she stated, "is he…?"

The doctor placed a hand on her shoulder. "He's fine," he reassured her. "The weapon that hit him was only on stun. My guess is the Breen wanted you two alive. He's resting now, but I'll go wake him. He asked me to get him as soon as you woke up."

Kathryn reached out and grabbed his uniform, stopping his retreat. "Wait…doctor…what about the baby?"

The hologram pursed his photonic lips, obviously unsure as to what to tell her, and his hesitation fed her anxiety. As he saw her tense, he tried to prevent her panic. "Don't worry," he ordered, "the baby is well, but I'd like to put off further discussion on the matter until the father is present."

Kathryn nodded, only slightly calmed by the doctor's words.

The doctor returned a few moments later with Chakotay at his side. The tattooed human immediately rushed to her side and took her hand in his, and with his other hand, he brushed the hair out of her face.

"Kathryn," he cooed, "how do you feel?"

Something about his particularly caring tone brought back her worry full-force, and she neglected to answer his question, instead cutting straight to the heart of her fears. "Something's wrong with our baby, isn't it?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

He held her shoulders and peered into her eyes. "Please, calm down. How do you feel?" he asked her again.

She was annoyed now, and frustrated that nobody would tell her anything of consequence. "Just tell me what's going on. Now." The tone was distinctly an order, despite the fact that she hadn't had the authority to give orders in months.

He sighed, still holding onto her. "Listen to me, Kathryn, the baby is alive."

"The doctor told me that much," she responded. "But there's something else you're not telling me."

He gulped. "The baby was in distress," he admitted. "You were bleeding…"

Her hands went to her mouth. "Oh god," she whispered.

"You were going to lose it, there was nothing the doctor could do about it. We think it was because of the trauma of falling from the tree."

Now tears coursed down her face but she managed to choke out a few words. "Go on," she begged, "I need to know."

He nodded, and offered her his hand. "I think it's better if I show you."

She looked askance at him, but, after a moment, took the offered limb.

"Do you think this is wise?" interjected the doctor. "She's still quite weak."

Chakotay defended her. "She has a right to know, doctor."

Hesitantly, the doctor nodded. "Very well." Then he began to explain, as they led her into the next room. Kathryn barely paid attention to his ramblings, focusing on preparing herself for whatever it was they were going to show her. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like it.

She vaguely heard the doctor's voice. "It was Seven's solution, actually…quite ingenious I think…could have future implementations…we'll write a paper on it, I think, Seven and I…"

As they entered the room, she felt Chakotay squeeze her hand, and she squeezed back, torn between her desire to race forward and satisfy her curiosity and her instinct to run and hide from something so fearful it was obviously going to cause her considerable distress.

In the center of the room was the unmistakable shape of a Borg maturation chamber.

Oh god, she thought. My child…assimilated before it should have even been born…

She felt the room spin around her, and her hand slipped out of Chakotay's as she instinctively wrapped her arms around her torso. Before she lost consciousness again, she was vaguely aware of the taste of the doctor's vitamin concoction as it reversed its course and spilled out onto the floor.

Chakotay caught her in his arms before she could hit the floor, and as he knelt, holding her limp form, Tom Paris appeared in the doorway. "It looks like that went well," the pilot stated sarcastically, and Chakotay glared back at him before looking towards the doctor, whose own gaze was concerned, but held the obvious message: I told you so.

"Give her time," said Chakotay. "Obviously, it was a shock, but I think she'll come around." His voice dripped with guilt and he felt a desperate urge to cry.

The doctor put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure she will," he conceded. "I just want to make sure you understand that it was the only way to save the child."

"I know," answered the kneeling human. "It's just…" His voice trailed off.

Suddenly Paris was contrite, and moved forward to pat Chakotay's other shoulder. "It'll be all right, old man, you'll see."

I hope they're right, the thought to himself as he lifted Kathryn's fragile form off the ground and carried her back to the cot, where he sat with her, waiting for her to reawaken, hopefully having calmed. I don't know how much more of this I can take…

Immediately, he chastised himself for the thought. How dare he think of himself when it was she who had to endure so much? Sitting beside her, he laid his head in the crook of her arm and wept.