Author's note: Hello again! So I was rewatching the Killing Game two-parter a while back and something the Doctor said, about the crew having been "prey" for three weeks by the time of the WWII scenario, got my muse going. What happened in those three weeks? What other scenarios might have the Hirogen put the crew through before the Klingon and Ste Claire simulations? And more to the point for this story: how would Chakotay and Janeway react if they started remembering their characters getting a little too close for comfort?

Hence this fic was born!

So I came up with two additional simulation scenarios to fill in that missing time, but since in the main story you'll only see excerpts of what happened in those simulations, I've decided to also post the "complete" scenarios as appendices. Which means you kind of get three stories for the price of one! ;-) Though I think it'll be more enjoyable if you read the full scenarios after the main story, I don't think it really matters whether you read them first, or not at all. I've tried to switch up the points of view to keep it interesting though, so if the event is told from, say, Kathryn's point of view in the main story, it'll be told from Chakotay's perspective in the appendix version. That way, you won't just be re-reading the same thing twice. I hope that makes sense and that you enjoy those little extras!

This story has 4 installments (+ the 2 simulation scenarios), and it is complete. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Prologue

Excerpt from the logs of Hirogen Alpha Karr: "No matter the characters that we imprint upon them, no matter the circumstances, Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay always seem to not only find each other, but also create an alliance that goes beyond one of mere strategy. This tendency toward collaboration is both baffling and a threat to the Hunt, as it makes the prey stronger and prove too much of a challenge for lesser hunters. It is to the benefit of the Hunt to separate them, until the hunters are ready for such worthier prey."

ooOoo

She's standing within the crumbling walls of a long abandoned brick building. The roof collapsed long ago and familiar stars are visible high above – bright but unattainable. The night air smells of moist earth, vegetation and wood fire, but there's something more acrid in the breeze flowing in from the river nearby. Something chemical. She's among a small crowd celebrating a victory – all around her familiar people are dancing, laughing, bantering. Faces she knows yet can't quite place in this dream space. And music – there's music too, familiar but old. Sounds from another era but oddly comforting.

There's someone with her, a man, and she draws comfort from his presence nearby in ways that are hard to comprehend. The male voice sounds so familiar… dear to her. Playful. Chakotay. No. Not Chakotay. Or is it? Whenever she turns to him the man's face is blurred and she can't see his features. All she understands is that she knows him; she trusts him implicitly, and she wants him there because he makes her feel alive and… not alone.

And then it happens: there's an alarm – a shrill, loud, unbearable sound that shatters this moment of peace. "Incoming! We've got incoming, from all directions!"

Gunfire erupts all around, forcing everyone to find shelter and get their hands on their own weapons. She, along with everyone else, scrambles to find cover behind the crumbling walls and into the part of the building that's still standing. The siren continues to blare, deafening, yet it doesn't compare to the cacophony of gunfire now coming from everywhere. She and the man-that-is-yet-isn't-Chakotay find cover on either side of the closest doorway, barking orders at their people even as they fire their own weapons at an all but invisible enemy behind the ruined walls of the base.

Rage and fear swell in her chest, because even though she's focused on the fight, she knows her people are going down – one by one – but she doesn't have time to watch or mourn or check to see if they're still alive. She orders everyone still fighting to retreat even deeper into the building and to get to the bunkers if they can. It seems to go well for a moment, until someone shouts something about their enemies now cutting access.

Still holding her position by the doorway, she pauses to reload and she tosses him a look while he does the same from where he stands on the other side of the opening between them. He's breathing heavily, raggedly, and sweat drenches his shirt and his dark hair. That's when she notices that he's bleeding from his side. No. NO. This can't be happening. She fights the impulse to go to him, because it would mean making a target of herself while she crosses.

"It's no use," he exclaims, panting, his face contorted in pain when he meets her eyes across the short distance. "We're surrounded, and cut off."

A gas grenade falls through the doorway between them. Holding her breath, she takes advantage of the smoke to go to him and, with an arm around his waist, helps him retreat a few steps.

An explosion from above sends the whole building shaking and sends them to the ground. Seconds later a section of the roof collapses a short distance away, blocking off the only path that had been left open to them. There's no way out. She can start to feel the gas in her lungs, constricting her breathing and making her eyes water.

A moment later they're sitting on either side of a broken window, with their backs against a wall. She meets his gaze, shaking her head, giving him a sad smile. "Looks like you were wrong, Commander. The world is about to end after all."

His voice and expression reflect the longing, sorrow and desperate resolve that she feels when he replies, his eyes boring into hers as he extends his hand to her. "Then let's end it together."

She takes his hand. Squeezes, hard. Savors the feel for one, long, second. After one last look and a weak smile of encouragement from him, she lets go.

Gunfire.

Fire and pain in her stomach.

As she lies on the ground she looks toward Chakotay – no, not Chakotay… Chase, but a hunter leans over her, blocking her view. "Take them to sickbay before the damage is permanent. Karr has another simulation he'd like to try."

Kathryn shot up in her bed, drenched in sweat, heart pounding and chest heaving, the taste of bile in her mouth. The smell of smoke and gas lingered in her nose and her trembling fingers flew to her stomach out of instinct, but the skin was smooth where she had felt the bullet wound. Her chest was still tight with fear, and her mind still full of the final images of the nightmare – Chakotay, bleeding, dying. His face, covered with a sheen of sweat and blood. His eyes, drifting close. Still not fully awake and some tight fist around her chest, she spoke out loud before she could rationalize the action, her voice hoarse, as if she'd screamed in her sleep. "Computer, locate Commander Chakotay."

"Commander Chakotay is in his quarters," the computer replied in its usual tone. Kathryn had never found it so soothing as she did now. The familiar voice grounded her, reminded her of where she was. Of who she was.

A dream, she told herself with relief, trying to get her heartbeat and breathing under control again. That was all: just one hell of a bad dream. Still shaking, Kathryn let out a relieved exhale and rubbed her face with both hands, then let herself fall back against her mattress. They were fine. She was fine, and so was Chakotay.

Just a dream.

oooOooo