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Chapter Four
--
La vie est un défi, fais-lui face
La vie est une tragédie, prends-la à bras le corps
La vie est la vie, défends-la
--Mother Teresa
L'amitié est un risque, prends-en soin
L'amitié est un honneur, reconnais-le
L'amitié est l'amitié, saisis-le
--Mylinae
B'Elanna was angry. All of her boiled, not just the Klingon side. Who in hell was dragging all this bad luck down on them? What was it about them that made them such likely targets for all the blights that the Universe came up with? Didn't Chakotay deserve a break? Didn't Seven?
She was not an avid fan of the former Astrometrics officer, but this was ridiculous. Fate had certainly crashed in on both of them numerous times. When was enough enough? She ground her teeth and held in those sentiments. Chakotay would not appreciate them right now.
Then again perhaps he would.
B'Elanna Torres wished for some of the almighty insight that Captain Janeway possessed. Not that the other woman said everything right either, but somehow she always got the mood right. Kathryn Janeway, that untouchable precedent.
Did Chakotay even know how high a pedestal he put that woman on? Obviously such realizations were intermittent, or he wouldn't be where he was. She wouldn't be where she was, would she? Seven was similarly placed far above such a mundane being as herself, but that was different.
"How are Tom and K'Athra?" he asked in a quiet voice as they walked together up the bare hall.
She was surprised at his choice of first subject, but accepted it gladly in favour of darker things. "Both fine. Tom was sorry he couldn't come, Chakotay. K'Ath's doing great. She's getting pretty active though. We have to watch her all the time."
He nodded, looking out the windows that faced the bright California day. It was at odds with the dire tone of the building, and the people contained therein. "That's good, B'Elanna. When is Tom going to stop hiding from his father?" he asked.
Chakotay knew why Tom wasn't around. She supposed it was her fault for expecting him to miss that little detail. She shrugged. "When the Admiral loses that bug up his ass. I don't know how that man ever ended up with a son like Tom. They're so dissimilar, and I only met Owen Paris once. We're happy where we are. You should come visit sometime. It'd be good for you."
He made a noncommittal noise. "Maybe. B'Elanna, what am I going to do?"
"About what?" she asked warily.
"About . . . everything," he said, letting out a defeated breath. "It's never going to be the same, is it? Nothing."
Why lie to him? "No, it won't, but that never stopped you. This is more than two people should honestly be asked to bear. I'm sorry, Chakotay, but I'm the last person who's going to know what to do. That's up to you . . . and Seven."
"I'm not going to leave her."
"Well, goddamn, Chakotay! If you even tried, we'd all kick your ass so hard our boots'd come out your mouth! I hope that was someone else's suggestion, because if you're saying that because you considered it, you're going to get it."
He didn't reply to that immediately. He paused, looking out the window at the city sprawled beyond. "Maybe I need a good kick regardless."
She was tempted to agree. He was digging himself quite a hole already. And damn if she was going to let him give up. She'd kill him first. "Don't go getting off into that. She went and froze up again, didn't she?"
He nodded.
Damn her metal-plated hide! B'Elanna had known Seven would leave Chakotay out in limbo! She'd certainly done it before, and it took a lot out of him to get her to come back, even with judicious help from the Captain and the Doctor. She wondered at the fact that Chakotay hadn't lost his resolve.
"Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Sorry, Chakotay. This has got to be tough on her. What're her recovery chances? What happened? Give me the list."
"She can't have children, her immune system is well-nigh gone, her right hand doesn't work, she had considerable stress on her heart for a while, and the Doctor thought that continued treatment with the drugs they put her on will give her aphasia after a while."
"What's that?"
"She won't be able to speak very well. Something about the vocal centres that doesn't work with some particular chemical."
"Damn. What're they going to do?"
"Make her regenerate for about four days at least."
"She won't like that."
"No, but it may repair a few things. She's hardly in any condition to put up a fight."
B'Elanna frowned, looking out the window as well. She sighed. Sighed again. "Well . . . damn! I'm sorry, Chakotay. Neither of you should have to deal with this. It's insane."
She'd never seen him so downcast, not even when they lost the first baby almost ten months before. At least then there had been more hope of recovery. Of course she would recover somewhat now, but she'd never be the same. A sad prospect in itself, even if B'Elanna had never really liked the ex-drone. That was beside the point. She had hardly wished any ill on Seven. Certainly not this. Not this.
What if she had lost K'Athra? Would she have done as well as even Seven? Hybrid pregnancies were always tricky, even under the best circumstances. She knew for a fact that her reproductive system was so convoluted that it was a wonder it worked at all. The Doctor had said as much, and marvelled at her comparatively uneventful pregnancy. The possibility of "event" had always loomed though, hanging over her head. She shuddered. "What if" had not happened . . . at least not to her.
B'Elanna had doubted the wisdom of Seven having children from the beginning. Of course she'd tried her hand with their foundlings, but they had been the most adult children ever -an unfortunate by-product of Borg tampering, once again. How would that woman ever cope with say, a two-year-old? Human two-year-old . . . that particular kind was said to be more troublesome than most. Of course, Chakotay would make a great father, but still. . . .
She was suddenly aware that she was crying. Yes, Chakotay would make a great father, but his chance had left before he could even question it. Why did things work out in these ways? The most deserving of people always getting the short end of the stick? Seven years away from home . . . fights, deaths, crashes, diseases, tears and then they'd finally made it back. And straight into a different version of the same thing. The fights were yet to come, she knew.
He would fight with the Captain. They fought with an intensity that boggled the mind sometimes, she'd seen it before. Somehow they invariably managed to come out of it friends, but somewhere along the way, one of them would say something hurtful, and everyone would walk on eggshells for a week until they made up.
He might fight with her, if the mood took him.
He'd never fight with Seven.
But it appeared to fight had gone out of him, which was appalling. Chakotay giving up? That was as ludicrous a thought as Janeway taking an argument sitting down. More so. Chakotay hadn't been the same since stepping off Voyager, and no one really knew why. She doubted even he knew why, but he was missing something important.
She had this dreadful feeling that it ran deeper than any of this . . . that Seven, while loved dearly, was only filling some invisible hole. A stopgap measure to stem some terrible wound that he had acquired somewhere. But what? Before all this, he had lost nothing, and this had started far before the first baby or Seven's failing health. Everything was here that had been on Voyager, in a basic sense. What was gone that he had had there?
"We should go back," he said, looking down the hall.
She didn't have to say anything, she just followed him when he started back the way they had come.
***
He stared at her like she was completely and utterly crazy. Perhaps she was. Wasn't there just so much tied up in it? Her feelings ran in a hundred directions at once . . . but the proverbial cat was out of the bag. She'd have to chance it now . . . provided of course she was allowed to.
It had elicited the first reaction from Seven in hours, which was something, and a positive reaction at that.
"Are you crazy, Captain?" the Doctor demanded, voicing his obvious thought. "I don't have to tell you how complicated such a thing would be. And the implications! It's- I just-"
She glared at him, not caring how he felt about it. His opinion didn't matter. He wasn't the only doctor in the Federation. "I know what you just! Do you have some aversion to helping them? Are you jealous, Doctor?"
She had hit a holographic nerve, she could tell. He ignored the pips on her collar and glared straight back. "That was uncalled for, and you know I wish no ill on anyone!" he hissed. She regretted her words immediately. "What I'm worried about is her health, his mental health, your health and the relationships involved here! I don't have to be Human to see the conflict in this!"
"Oh, what about my health? I'm absolutely fine. You said yourself-"
"This is entirely different."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"Seven's agreeable."
He rolled his eyes. "Of course she is! But we don't know if Chakotay is, and you came up with this what, five minutes ago?"
"Six months ago," she stated severely, matching him glare for glare. "I will do this with or without your help, though I'd prefer that. You're as much part of this family as any of us."
"Well, I'm touched, but surrogate motherhood -the real kind- is not something to undertake lightly. We're both outside of this, Captain, in the same way almost. How do you feel, exactly, about giving birth to another woman's children?"
She paused, collecting herself. "Fine."
"Who are you doing this for?" he demanded harshly, keeping his voice low. "Them or him?"
"Watch yourself, Doctor," she growled. Well? How did she feel? The Doctor was certainly covering all his bases, but his accompanying biases were well known. He wasn't going to agree to having any part in it unless she affirmed that Seven was also her driving factor. And wasn't she? Seven meant worlds to her. She never left a member of her crew, and Seven was alone, wasn't she? She never abandoned a member of her crew.
"Honestly? Who is better suited?" she asked. "I'm close to both of them, I love both of them . . . hell, I even live within five blocks of them! And I'm healthy enough to have babies well into my sixties and live for six decades after that, even though I'm hardly at either of those stages. I'm safe, so what are you worried about?"
"What do you think?" he asked, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "Besides, you don't even have the Commander's opinion, and I've got a feeling he won't like it any better than I do. It's confusing at best."
"Why?"
"Tell me you are not so obtuse, please."
"May I remind you whom you are speaking to?"
"Go ahead. It doesn't change anything."
He was right, it didn't. There were far to many emotions wrapped up in this, and emotional conflict was not her strong suit, as time had told. But one thing ringed quite clearly. She could do this for both of them. She could take their blasted fate and turn it on its ear. Didn't Seven deserve to see the manifestation of that hope? That hope that had burned in the invalid woman's eyes the moment the offer had left her Captain's mouth?
Like as not, Chakotay would turn out to be the contrary element. He was unpredictable at times, when it came to such "confusing" matters. Especially when it involved her even more unpredictable self. And didn't she owe him? He'd made it his work of seven years to stay glued to her side . . . wasn't it her turn to give him such consideration? The work of nine months was minuscule in comparison.
She would do this for him, if he would let her.
She experienced a small moment of surprise. Apparently "think of the devil" was a phrase that applied as well, for there he came around the corner, walking silently beside B'Elanna. It was good of her to come, but not a surprise given her almost fanatical loyalty to Chakotay. What would B'Elanna think? There was a question. The fifth piece of the puzzle, if the Doctor was fourth.
"What was that all about?" B'Elanna asked as they approached. "You were raising quite a racket for a while."
"Is something wrong?" Chakotay asked in the same breath.
"Yes."
"No," came two clipped replies.
"Which is it?"
Kathryn cleared her throat.
***
Harry still sat in the waiting area. He'd been mildly surprised when the Captain had come tearing in, practically dragging the startled Doctor into the hall beyond. She had shut the door, and he could not hear them argue. As it was, he'd been doing a judicious amount of visual eavesdropping through the glassed walls of the waiting area. Whatever it was, they were having a good row over it. Her glares were as black as they had ever been.
Now Chakotay and B'Elanna had returned. He'd been surprised to see her, when she had first arrived, but he should have expected her. B'Elanna's expression was incredulous as the Captain talked, the Doctor looked highly dissatisfied with some turn of events and Chakotay . . . well Chakotay looked like someone had pole-axed him.
Harry fought to contain his interest. It wasn't his business unless someone chose to tell him what was going on at some point . . . yet he didn't turn back to the room. Everyone else in there with him -Sam and Naomi, Tuvok- were watching as well.
All four were surprised when the Captain was suddenly lost in Chakotay's arms.
They both cried, the strongest people he had ever known.
To be continued
***