(Author's Note: TW for suicide mention, and references to death and depression)


The stars glittered brightly above Kathryn as she lay in the grass outside the shelter. She raised a hand and began to trace lines connecting the points of light. The stars had become familiar to her by now, with invisible lines of constellations she and Chakotay had named together. Stars she would never see again after tonight.

"There you are," Chakotay said as he sat down beside her. "I've tried to give you space since Tuvok called, but we need to talk."

He was met with silence.

"Talk to me, please. At least tell me what you're doing out here."

"Contemplating," she replied.

"Oh?"

"Voyager's probably up there somewhere by now."

"Probably."

"We're going to have to go back to our old lives."

"Yes."

She continued tracing constellations silently. "I've finally come to like living here," she said eventually. "I like living with you. I want to have a chance to explore what our relationship could be."

"We still have a chance to do that," he said.

"I can't balance work and a relationship like that, especially when we'll be working so closely together."

"My people have a saying…"

"Another 'ancient legend'?"

"'You won't know until you try it'."

Kathryn laughed. "Now, I know I've heard that one before."

"My point," he said, "is that you won't know whether you can balance work and romance until you try it. Until you give us a chance. Maybe we could work."

"Or maybe we couldn't."

"Kathryn," he tilted her chin to look up at him, "what's this really about? Are you so afraid of having a relationship that you're making up excuses?"

Kathryn sighed and sat up. "I've lost a lot of people I loved, Chakotay," she said. "In this lifetime alone, I've lost friends and family and even two lovers. My first fiancé died in a shuttle crash, did you know that? And I was so devastated then that I swore I would never love another Starfleet man again. It's too dangerous. Any day could be your last."

"So you should live every day to the fullest, rather than hiding from it. That doesn't sound like you."

"You don't understand." Kathryn reached out and grasped his hand.

Suddenly, his mind was filled with images and emotions. A laughing young man with his arm around Kathryn's shoulders. The joy as she opened a box with an engagement ring. The heartache as she watched his shuttle sink into the icy lake, powerless to help him. The despair and despondency as she found herself alone and lost without him by her side. The complete and utter hopelessness she had felt for months after the fact and the times she had come close to taking her own life.

He gasped as she broke the connection and the images vanished.

"I can't go through that again," she said. "Not when I love you so much."

He studied her face under the light of the stars. "I love you too," he said softly. "That's why I don't want to let you go. Besides," he shifted closer to her, "what do you regret more about your time with him – the time you shared with him, or not having long enough together?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I wish we had had longer together."

"Then how would you feel if I were to die next week? Wouldn't you regret the time you had spent pushing me away? Wouldn't you wish we had had longer together?" She was silent, contemplating his words. "You said you were interested in the human experience. Well, this is about as human as it gets. Love and loss are part of our existence whether you like it or not. And at the end of the day, if you keep hiding your heart away you're going to lose it altogether. You need to strengthen those muscles by loving deeply and unashamedly."

"You almost sound like a philosopher," Kathryn said. "Or Shakespeare, waxing poetic about love."

"I'm honoured by the comparison," Chakotay said. "Just think about it, okay? Don't make any decisions tonight. Just enjoy the stars and think about my words. I'll still be here for you in the morning."

Kathryn turned to study his face. Even in the dim light, she could see the love in his eyes. On impulse, she placed a hand on his cheek and quickly pressed her lips against his. The kiss only lasted a second, but it sent tingles through her lips and down her spine.

"Thank you," she said, "for being there for me."

"Always," he replied. He slid his hand around the back of her head and pulled her in for a second kiss, deeper, longer this time.

After they broke apart, she asked, "Do you really think we can make this work?"

"I know we'll try," Chakotay said, "and that's good enough for me."