Story Notes: Episode addition to "Shattered."
With thanks to m.c. moose for beta-ing.
BEGINNINGS
Halfway through the second bottle of cider, silence fell.
Up until that point, the conversation had been flowing smoothly. The mood was light, even a bit playful. She'd asked him what would have happened if the deflector dish hadn't been burned out, what disaster had been averted. He said he couldn't tell her because of the temporal prime directive. God, how she hated hearing that! She always said time travel gave her a headache. But she'd gotten back at him, with his own words, when he'd asked how she knew about his hidden stash of cider.
He refilled his glass, concentrating on not spilling. He looked over to her questioningly. She started to shake her head, and then held out her glass for some more.
She watched as he studied the amber liquid, rotating his glass slowly from side to side. His brow furrowed slightly and his eyes took on a faraway look, what she called his "thinking expression." She hesitated, unsure of whether to break the silence. Then he sighed and put the glass down.
"Do you ever think about the beginning, Kathryn? How it all got started?"
"How what got started?"
"This ship, your mission…"
The corners of her mouth turned down. "How we all got stranded in the Delta Quadrant, you mean."
"Not just that." He waved his hand impatiently. "I'm talking about the crew, the paths we've all traveled to get where we are today."
She caught his gaze in her own, curious. On the surface, his statement seemed to be a non sequitor, particularly considering the previous tone of their conversation. But she knew it was in some way connected with the adventure he refused to tell her about. Suddenly she wondered if his use of the phrase "temporal prime directive" had been more purposeful than to tease her.
"I think about those days on occasion, but only very rarely. I try to concentrate on the here and now. If anything, I think it's more important to focus on the future than on the past."
"But you do look back," he persisted.
"Only when I can't help myself," she said ruefully.
"And when you do, what do you see?"
The conversation was rapidly heading into areas where she felt she was on shaky ground. "Why are you asking me this, Chakotay?"
His voice was softly insistent. "Because I want to know. Tell me, Kathryn."
A bit reluctantly, she said, "Missed chances. Things I could have done better, decisions that should have been made or left unmade. Crewmen who would still be alive if I had done things differently."
His face, which had brightened at the beginning of her answer, became downcast. "Command decisions. That's what you think about." He rose from his seat and took a few steps toward the viewport, as if seeking to distance himself from her.
"Of course. What else would I---" She suddenly caught the meaning of his words, and his disappointment. "You mean regrets of a more personal nature."
He nodded, as if he didn't quite trust himself to speak.
She sighed. "Why bring this up, now?" Realization hit her. "Chakotay, what happened today? Tell me. I'm not going to take any more excuses."
"I went back there," he said slowly. "To the beginning."
"When we first met at the Caretaker's array?" she asked incredulously.
"No. It was before Voyager had even reached the Badlands. You didn't know who I was, except as the Maquis commander you'd been ordered to capture." He gave a wry smile. "You accused me of trying to sabotage your ship."
She joined him at the port and they stood side by side, looking out at the stars. "And then what happened?"
"I had to persuade you to work together with me, to save the ship from an anomaly that was threatening to destroy us all, and had already fractured the ship into different temporal zones."
"And did I?"
"Oh, yes." He turned slightly, so he was once more facing her. "Somehow, once you heard my story, you trusted me. Just like---"
"Just like I did before," she finished softly.
He gave a quick nod. "We ended up going through the ship, encountering different slices of my past--your future--in an attempt to save the ship."
"Obviously we were successful." She glanced at him sharply.
"Yes, we were." He grinned unexpectedly. "We always did make a good team, even when we barely knew each other."
She thought back to the time his words had invoked, to when she first assumed command of Voyager. Already an experienced captain, she was at once more and less sure of herself in those days than she was now. None of her previous commands in the Alpha Quadrant had prepared her for what she was about to face, or to visualize herself being pushed to the breaking point, on more than one occasion. With a pang, she realized it was hard to remember a time when her burdens hadn't weighed on her so heavily. She crushed those unwelcome thoughts with speech. "How was it, revisiting the past?"
He smiled, almost as if he were nostalgic for the old days. "It was…interesting."
Her laugh was somewhat forced. "All those crises and other problems. Most of the time, it just seemed like one disaster after another."
"No, it wasn't like that," he was quick to disagree. "I mean, I know it seemed that way at times, but there was also a lot of good back then, a lot that went right."
"Such as?" she said, still thinking of the losses and deaths among the crew.
"Well, look at us!"
She drew in a sharp intake of breath. Surely he wasn't referring to them, their failed relationship or however one could classify what had gone on between her and her first officer for all these years. At times she wasn't too sure herself what it was--something more than friendship, or perhaps much less. She said with studied casualness, "Us?"
"The crew."
She felt a curious mixture of relief and disappointment. "Yes, of course, the crew. All of our 'rescues'…"
"That's right," he said, a little too quickly. "How many former drones did you liberate from the Collective? Or the fact that the Maquis, not to mention the Equinox crew, would have been stranded here in the Delta Quadrant without Voyager, and with much lower chances of survival, let alone getting back home."
She nodded. "I suppose so."
He went on, "And look at all the friendships that have grown up and blossomed; Tom and B'Elanna's marriage, how far everyone has come and developed over the past seven years. And none of it would have been possible without you."
"Well, I'm glad to know I've done something right." She attempted a light tone, but her voice betrayed her. "There are times I wonder about that."
"Oh, Kathryn," he said sadly. "Considering everything you've faced, I don't think any self-blame is justified. You shouldn't doubt yourself." She suddenly became aware that they were standing very close together, his hands holding hers. "I never have."
"I'm not the same person I was seven years ago," she whispered.
"None of us are."
"I don't know if all the changes were positive. Sometimes it's hard to remember who I used to be."
"I remember," he said softly. "And there are times, like now, that she doesn't seem so far away."
Their faces were only inches apart. Their eyes met for a long moment. A moment suspended in time, both of them holding their breath, as if reality itself would shatter if they said the words out loud.
Softly, as if afraid of breaking the spell, she said, "I've never believed in looking back at the past, but ahead to the future."
"The future, Kathryn? And what do you see there?"
She smiled. "It's hard to say with any certainty, but perhaps one day there will be a chance for a new beginning."
He returned her smile. "I'll be waiting."
FINIS
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