Author's Note: This was initially going to be a stand alone, but then Chakotay's pain made itself known...

Song lyrics are from "The Green Fields of France" and "Red Is The Rose"

CHAPTER 2

The next morning, Kes entered the holodeck just as Neelix and Tom were leaving.

"Oh, hi, sweetie," Neelix greeted her. "We'll be back soon, Tom's going to help me with some of the food for Hogan's memorial. But feel free to look around at what we've done and let us know what you think."

Kes took a quick glance inside at a deep green hillside, covered in a wispy, feathery, fog. She could smell the sea in the air, and a slight, sad tune haunted her ears. She was able to catch a few words—did they sound the death march as they lowered you down?—she supposed that might be a traditional human burial tune. She was not overly familiar with those customs.

She hoped she wouldn't ever have to be.

She gave the two men a smile, and murmured, "It's lovely," as they scurried off.

She stepped deeper into the holodeck. She knew that the holodeck was being made to be a place on Earth called "Ireland". Hogan's ancestors had apparently come from there, though he himself had never lived there. He had apparently once expressed a wish to be buried there, all the same….but that wouldn't be possible, now. And Neelix, feeling responsible for Hogan's death, had taken it upon himself to do the next best thing—hold a memorial for Hogan in a holodeck recreation of Ireland. He'd been up most of the night reading up on the nation-state, quizzing other human crewmembers about it. "The funny thing sweetie—" he'd said to her, "—is that a lot of Voyager's human crew are of Irish descent—Hogan, Carey, the Delaney twins, even Captain Janeway—but not one crewmember is actually from there. But they all talk about it as if they miss it dearly. It's quite interesting."

Walking through the illusion, Kes felt drawn to the haunting and hushed landscape. If the real Ireland was anything like this, then she could well understand the tug on the hearts of the aforementioned crewmembers for this place. It seemed almost unreal, as if one could step into the mist and become one with it.

She heard the holodeck doors open behind her, and she turned to see Commander Chakotay come in, stepping on the vibrantly green grass. He gave her a polite smile. "Hello, Kes." He looked around at the rolling hillside, nodding quietly. "Tom and Neelix did a great job here. I think Hogan would be pleased with this."

Kes' face twitched sadly. "Neelix has been working round the clock on this," she admitted. "He feels so guilty about what happened to Hogan…"

Chakotay looked down at the ground, and sighed. "Neelix has nothing to feel guilty about," he said. "If anything…what happened to Hogan is all my fault. All because I dragged this crew after a child that wasn't mine…." He hesitated for moment, "…and to be honest, I didn't really want even when I thought he was."

Kes' heart ached for him. "Commander…" she started, but trailed off when he shook his head.

"I'm….not proud of it, Kes," he admitted. "It's not that I didn't want to be a father, but I just always imagined it would be with a woman I loved and respected, someone like—" he stopped himself short from saying a name, but Kes heard Kathryn in her head, just as clearly as if he'd spoken it out loud. Guilt stabbed at her, and she dropped her own face to the floor, fearful that he'd read her expressions and ask questions she couldn't answer. She heard him draw a shaky breath before he continued. "Instead….all these people, hurt or dead, because I let Seska play me again."

Kes looked up at him—and was struck to see how defeated he looked. Impulsively, she walked over to him, placing her hands gently on his arms. "Commander," she began, then amended to, "Chakotay…this isn't your fault at all. Even if you didn't want the child, you did what you thought was the right thing for him, and everybody on this crew was behind you. Ensign Wildman was one of the first to insist we had to save the child. I don't exaggerate when I say that. Everybody was outraged at how Seska violated you—" she saw Chakotay wince at violated, felt shame emanate from him, "—everybody puts the blame on her, where it belongs."

Chakotay closed his eyes and whispered, "I wonder if Samantha Wildman would have felt the same way if Naomi had died." He opened his eyes to look at Kes, misery overtaking his face. "I almost traded one child for another, Kes. How do I live with that?"

Kes's own eyes welled up, realizing in that moment, Captain Janeway was right to keep her miscarriage from Chakotay. She blinked back tears, hard. So much pain…..

….there was nothing she could say that would relieve his guilt, any more than there had been anything she could do to convince the captain that the loss of the baby wasn't her fault somehow.

She pulled Chakotay into a hug, squeezing him tightly, as if to fill him with all the love and sympathy and healing she could offer. After a startled second, he hugged her back, accepting her comfort. "Thank you, Kes," he whispered against her hair. "You're a good friend."

They stood there, enfolding each other, as the mist washed over them, and a faint tune sang, "…it's all for the loss of my bonny Irish lass, that my heart is breaking forever…" She felt Chakotay give a small chuff at that, before murmuring, "The Irish always did have a gift for putting into words what's in your heart." He didn't elaborate on that, and she didn't ask him to. She knew what he meant…or rather, who he meant. He sighed, and pulled back slowly.

"I'll see you later at the memorial, Kes," he said, then quietly added, "Thank you, again," before turning away and exiting the holodeck.

Kes stood sadly, in the mist, sorrowing for captain and commander both.