Chapter Seven
Time passed in a confused jumble of fractured thoughts and blurred images that slipped from her mind as soon as they came. Every now and then, sounds and physical sensations penetrated the haze: the tingle of a transporter; the vague familiarity of a soft, male voice, beyond her understanding but strangely reassuring in the midst of the chaos; something coarse and wet scrubbed around her fingers, her wrist; the soft humming and vibrating around her.
It seemed like years before her thoughts began to clarify, and she slowly intellectualized her way out of this waking dream. The images faded as the power of her conscious mind reasserted itself and told her to ignore them, and she was finally able to decipher the information from her senses. The vibration; she was in space. Beeps and chirps; someone was manning a console. She tried to open her eyes, but the lids wouldn't budge. She wanted call out to the person, but her tongue wouldn't form the words. She realized with a start that she could feel her body but she couldn't move it. She tried to force something-- anything to happen. She struggled against the leaden weight of her own body, but to no avail.
Kathryn fought down her rising panic. She tried to remember how this had happened, figure out where she was. She remembered the reception when Durant... Durant! He did this to her! The memories grew blurry. She couldn't... Oh God. Did he rape her? She focused her attention. No. She didn't feel like he had. She'd know, wouldn't she?
The shattered glass. The blood. Hers, his? The corridor, dark and constricted around her. A door. Chakotay's door? He was just down the corridor; she was sure she'd run farther than that. Then...? It was a blur. She had a vague impression of jumbled sounds, words she had not understood.
Now she was lying on her back... on a bed? No. It was too hard. She could feel warm leather under her hands, and she sensed that her body was not entirely flat. A reclining seat with... leather upholstery? Was she on the station or in Durant's ship? Did Durant's ship have leather upholstery?
She heard footsteps nearby, on the carpet next to her. A slight humming. A tricorder.
"Good," the voice. It was Chakotay's voice. She'd know that gentle voice anywhere. She was so relieved she could have wept.
She felt his breath on her ear as he said, "I know you can hear me, Kathryn... Listen. The sedative's dissipated in your blood stream, so I think it will be safe for me to give you a stimulant now. Just relax and let it kick in." And then he injected a hypo against her neck.
* * *
After two minutes, Chakotay questioned whether the stimulant had worked, and he was debating the safety of upping the dosage when he heard a small noise in her throat. He leaned closer, watching her intently, and he saw her eyelids flicker. They trembled for a few seconds, and then finally slipped open, revealing icy blue eyes that immediately flitted around the shuttle. Slowly, her body began to stir, and her mouth bobbed open and closed a few times before she managed to slur, "Ch'tay..."
"Just a little longer, Kathryn."
After a few seconds, her voice was slightly clearer when she asked, "How long?"
"You were out for about three hours," he replied softly.
A few seconds more passed, and she tried to pull her head up. Chakotay saved her some effort and adjusted her chair into a sitting position Her expression pinched as though she were in pain, and he watched her take a few deep breaths before forging, "What happened?"
He studied her unrevealing expression. "You found me, asked for me to hide you--"
"I don't remember that," she said with a frown.
Chakotay raised his eyebrows. "Well, I can tell you that I do. And right now, my memory might be slightly more reliable than yours."
Janeway inclined her head wearily at that. She closed her eyes again, her brow furrowed, and then raised a trembling hand up to rub her temple. He knew she was struggling to put the pieces together, and he continued, "You asked me to hide you, so I concealed you. A few minutes later, your husband and a big blonde fellow dropped by looking for you."
Her eyes snapped open and he watched as something unreadable flickered across her face. "I didn't know if you were hiding from them or from someone else, so I played it safe and told them I had no clue where you were. I was scheduled to depart in thirty minutes. I didn't have anywhere to conceal you on the station, so I took you with me."
A second passed, and her expression was frozen. Then, as though the pieces suddenly flew together, alarm and horror washed over her features. "We're off the station?" Her eyes found his frantically. "Chakotay-- take me back. You have to take me back now!"
"What's the hurry?" Chakotay asked. He scrutinized her closely, saw immediately when the Captain's Mask snapped into place.
"My husband doesn't know where I am. He'll be frantic," Janeway said in a controlled voice. A lie. "Chakotay, please. Just turn the ship around."
Chakotay inclined his head, his face deceptively neutral. "Of course I'll turn the ship around." Before she could look too relieved, he added, "As soon as you explain some things to me."
Her expression was suddenly guarded, and she had an unreadable look in her eyes. "What... things?" She sat up straight, attentive and suspicious.
He shrugged his large shoulders. "Oh, I don't know. Perhaps how, exactly, you ended up with massive amounts of an illegal sedative in your bloodstream." She looked away, and he continued, "Maybe you could explain whose blood was on your hands and uniform," She looked down at her dress uniform, stained with the telltale smear of blood. Her expression clouded over, and he continued mercilessly, "You could explain why you wanted me to hide you--"
"I was delirious," she cut in quickly, her eyes sharp. "It meant nothing."
"Fine," Chakotay said smoothly. "Even allowing for that, explain why your husband and his friend, so frantic to find you, were out looking for you themselves when the natural step would be to summon station security. Explain why they outright lied when they told me you were drunk. Tell me why you stabbed your own husband--"
"I didn't stab--" she began quickly.
"I saw him clutching his side, Kathryn," he cut in, his voice glacial, finally having caught her in a direct lie. "It was probably nothing more than a flesh wound, but you did it. You had blood on your hands and he was injured. Should I ask the computer for a DNA analysis of that stain on your tunic?" Unbeknownst to her, he already had analyzed the blood. It was Durant's.
She glared at him angrily, but didn't accept his offer. She pushed herself up to stand on now-steady legs, and he rose as well. She set her hands on her hips, and said coldly, "Any other charges you'd like to level, Commander?"
Chakotay felt a sudden surge of anger at her obstinacy. "Yes, there are! Why did you skip the reunion? Why haven't you talked to any of your friends in over a year? What the hell was that about, sleeping with me and then announcing your marriage to someone else? Why have you lost so much--"
She suddenly gave a short, harsh laugh, her eyes narrowed into tiny slits. "That's what this is about, isn't it?" she hissed with sudden malice. "You're still angry that I rejected you, and you're taking it out on me now!"
His expression darkened. She'd hit a vein, and he felt rage and hurt long suppressed threaten to overcome his reason; he fought it down. He knew her. She only resorted to vindictiveness when she couldn't have her way. She aimed to draw blood. He knew a tactic when he saw one. As much as it rankled him, he refused to take the bait.
"You can't goad me into returning you by making me angry, Kathryn."
Janeway stared at him incredulously, a debate clearly raging inside her. Then, suddenly subdued, "Chakotay, please," she implored, "Why can't you just trust me? I have to return. Please take me back."
"Kathryn, I will," he said just as softly, holding her eyes with his own. "I will take you back, I swear that-- just as soon as you answer my questions."
She closed her eyes, reigning in some impulse. In a torn voice, "Can't you just accept that there are some things I can't tell you?"
"No."
Her eyes opened again, flashing. The anger was rising again. "Then maybe you can accept that it's none of your goddamn business!"
"You made it my business the moment you showed up at my door!" he retorted sharply.
"I didn't mean--" her voice broke off abruptly, and her expression and voice hardened. "Take me back now, Commander. That's an order."
He laughed. "Kathryn, you can't order me. I resigned, remember?"
She glared at him. "This is ridiculous. I'm not answerable to you. You can't keep me here against my will."
"Really?" He said with calm logic, "No one knows you're here. Who's going to stop me?" That galvanized her into a sudden rage.
She ripped forward towards him and yelled, "Damn you, Chakotay! Take me back now or I swear I'll report you for kidnapping!"
He smiled sourly in return. "Report me for kidnapping and I'll report you for illegal drug use. Nerium, Kathryn? What would that do to your dear hubby's political career?"
She caught her breath. She clearly hadn't considered that possibility.
He took the opportunity to catch her eye. "Kathryn, thus far, you have begged, threatened and cajoled." She looked down, and he reached out to pull her chin up. "Why don't you just tell me the truth?"
She pulled away from him, her hands clenched into fists so tight her knuckles were white. Her voice was choked when she said, "Please, Chakotay. You have to take me back. Trust my judgment on this one."
"Trust your judgment?" he sputtered. He launched forward, grasped her by her thin shoulders, and hauled her over to a shiny console. He held the surprised woman in place, staring at the shadowy image of herself. "Look at yourself, for God's sake. You're emaciated! Did your judgment tell you to stop eating? And your husband-- did your judgment tell you to marry a man who clearly terrifies you? Your judgment hasn't done you any favors!"
She said a chilly voice, "The only time my judgment was wrong was when it told me to come to you." She jerked out of his grip.
"Well, you did come to me. And it's too late to take that back."
He watched her stalk around the shuttle like a caged lioness.
"Chakotay, at least let me send a transmission to my husband, let him know I'm all right," she finally tried.
"Once you tell me what's going on, you can make any transmission you like," he intoned flatly.
Janeway turned to him, and asked tiredly, "Why do you care, Chakotay? It's not your concern."
"I told you, it's been my concern ever since you sought my help," he replied stubbornly. "You may have been delirious, but something sent you to me, whether you can admit it to yourself or not. And I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't find out why."
"My, what a selective memory you have, Commander. We're not friends."
"Fine. I wouldn't be a good person if I didn't find out why."
She sank into her seat, her eyes shut tightly as if pained. He felt a flicker of concern, but when she looked up, he realized the pain was nothing physical he could heal.
"Chakotay..."
He braced himself for another argument.
"Do you have any coffee? I really need coffee."
He relaxed. "I'll go replicate some."
Chakotay walked away from the navigational pit up to the replicator. He replicated coffee, and after a bit of thought, some scrambled eggs.
He returned to find her gazing thoughtfully out the window.
"Coffee and some breakfast." He set them down next to the navigation console.
She smiled a half-hearted thanks, and quickly started on the coffee. He sat down in the chair next to her, watching as she gulped down the coffee but disregarded the eggs.
"You should eat something... regain your strength," he said after a while.
"I don't like eggs," she replied dismissively.
On Voyager, he'd seen her replicate them quite frequently. He didn't mention it. "I'll replicate something else."
"No, that's fine," she said a little defensively. "I truly am not hungry."
"Your stomach's growling," he pointed out. And it was. He'd noticed it rumbling while she was indisposed and it hadn't ceased.
She looked into the coffee, embarrassed. "I'm fine, really."
"You're not on a diet, are you?" She clearly did not like the scorn in his voice.
"If you must know, yes I am," she snapped angrily.
"That's ridiculous. You're thin. Skinny. Eat something." He shoved the plate towards her.
"Damn it, leave it be!" she snapped, and knocked the plate out of his hand and to the floor of the shuttle.
Her action seemed to surprise both of them, and they sat there, staring at the clumps of yellow egg now smeared across the carpet. When Chakotay drew his eyes back up to her, he could see tears streaking down her face. "You're crying," he told her.
"I have something in my eye," she replied defensively. She raised her coffee for a sip.
"Both of them?"
He could see Janeway attempting to school her features into neutrality. Her eyes were blank, her lips set in a flat line. The Captain's Mask. How he'd grown to hate that expression. Now, though, the tears trickling faster and faster down her cheeks ruined the effect.
"I'm just stressed. It's been a miserable week," she finally admitted softly. She batted her hand angrily at the tears.
"A miserable week?" he prodded, hoping to get more from her.
"A miserable year," she amended darkly. Her eyes flickered down to the controls. Quietly, "Chakotay, you have to turn this ship around. Lives depend upon it."
"Whose lives?"
"I can't tell you that," she said faintly, slumping back in her chair, physically and emotionally drained.
"Don't you trust me, Kathryn?" he asked her. She lolled her head over to meet his eyes.
"It's not an issue of trust."
"I trust you," he pointed out.
She gazed at him thoughtfully. "And I don't know why. I've been a monster to you."
He didn't debate that. "Kathryn, we've had problems. I realize that. But there are also things that I've noticed, that the crew has noticed, things that lead me to question my entire perception of the last two years; since we returned, really."
She looked at him warily.
"You don't love Durant."
Her eyes suddenly hardened into two little points, her cheeks flushed, and he realized now that he was on the right track.
"I do."
"No, you don't," Chakotay replied firmly. "I'd even go so far as to say you hate him."
She was breathing heavily now, an expression he could not decipher on her face.
"You hate him, and you fear him. You lash out, but never too far and never too hard because you're afraid of something. A price you'll pay?"
"You have it all wrong."
"Do I? Let's talk about his friend then. Tall, bleached hair. Big guy. He'd give a Hirogen a run for his money. Empet?"
"Empek. He's a charming and affable man," her voice was strained as she said this.
"He's in on this, too, whatever it is."
"I'll tell you what this is: a fabrication of your twisted imagination. Can you take me back now?"
He continued on, heedless, "They drugged you. I don't know why, but it was one or both of them. You were disoriented and you followed your instinct, which was to fight back. You stabbed Durant. You escaped and found me. That was a good thing."
"A good thing? Do you have any idea what you're talking about?" Janeway suddenly flared up, whirling on him with glittering, blue eyes. "I destroyed everything! You can't even imagine what he'll do to me!"
Chakotay stared at her, hearing with surprise what she'd blurted in the heat of emotion
She realized it, too, because she sat down, her eyes blazing, features hardened.
"Kathryn--"
"I'm not talking to you anymore," she snarled. "You either take me back, or..."
"Or what?"
She looked away sullenly, refusing to speak.
Chakotay shrugged, and went about cleaning the eggs from the floor. He could feel her resentful gaze on him the whole time.
* * *
At first, Janeway simply sat there stewing in her own rage. As more and more time passed, she began to grow increasingly agitated. Hours upon hours. She started pacing back and forth, her hands clenching in and out of tight fists. Durant and Empek loomed larger and more terrible in her awareness with each passing moment. She was utterly terrified for Chakotay, the goddamn fool for getting himself mixed up in this, angry at herself for destroying everything she'd labored to protect for the past two years. She never wanted him involved. Never! How could she have been so stupid?
I wonder how many people Durant's killed by now? She thought morbidly. The faces of her old crew and the numbers mounted increasingly in her mind as the minutes ticked by. How many would Durant kill in retaliation? How many would he kill for each hour she was gone?
Hours passed. Occasionally she engaged Chakotay in the pointless argument again, but more often she paced. She was constantly on the verge of tears, teetering towards the brink of collapse. The irrational woman in her wanted to throw herself into Chakotay's arms in gratitude for taking her away from those terrible men, and to hell with the crew. To hell with the Federation. But she also wanted to rip his throat out for doing this to her; this escape was false. They had her crew, everyone she knew and cared about utterly at their mercy. A snap of Durant's fingers and the Orion Syndicate would flex its muscles and obliterate them from existence. She was still their prisoner, no matter where Chakotay took her.
She was trapped. She couldn't tell Chakotay the truth. She started to say something every once in a while out of sheer desperation, but her throat clamped over her own words. Two years of conditioning, of fearful silence could not be cast aside in fifteen hours. They weren't here in this ship to stop her, yet she felt their presence like a chain around her neck. Durant. Empek the mobster, Tondra the political zealot. They would not hesitate. If she peeped a word to Chakotay, they would strike him down and leave her bereft.
And even deeper in her awareness was the irrational fear of Chakotay's reaction... After all this time, thinking about him, clinging to his memory, she couldn't bear to see the disgust on his face, the sheer disgust he'd feel at seeing her reduced to this. A woman who had stood up to the Borg Queen, faced down foes twice her size, utterly unable to overcome a situation concocted by one little man. A Starfleet Captain, reduced to decorative girlfriend, to trophy wife, and soon to brood mare and whore. A woman who'd gotten her own family and five of her crew killed. He'd feel disgust that he'd ever touched her, ever believed in her, ever trusted her with his well-being.
But her silence was deadly. Chakotay wouldn't return her without the truth, or a decent lie. The longer she was away from Durant, the worse the price would be for those she loved.
Kathryn cursed herself. She should have gone to the goddamn fertility clinic. If Durant had wanted her after that, she should have let him have her. Stupid woman, fighting the inevitable. There would have been no drug to cloud her judgment, and no price to pay now. No terrible price.
Her brooding ceased when the world abruptly blackened around her; her legs almost buckled. She barely stumbled back to her chair in time, and when Chakotay scanned her with a tricorder then pressed some water to her lips and a fork with scrambled eggs, she drank and ate dutifully until she felt sickeningly full.
"I told you that you needed to eat something," he noted quietly.
As the dizziness faded, she said dully, "I thought you threw those eggs away."
"I threw away the ones you knocked out of my hand. I replicated another plate."
"But I wasted your rations--" she stopped.
He stared at her, appalled. "I'd never feed you something off the floor."
She crossed her arms tightly across her chest and closed her eyes, disoriented. What had just happened? He'd wasted his rations. Twice. She'd knocked them away the first time, the second time she couldn't finish, yet he didn't level a word of blame at her. The realization touched her, and she felt a stab of pain in her chest at his compassion, his goodness. Her eyes stung with tears.
Durant and Empek. If she'd done that to Durant, he would have shoved her face down, or he'd have Empek do it. He would have made her eat them off the floor, lick the last traces away. Maybe Empek would have pissed on them first. A lesson. Always a lesson.
She hadn't realized she was crying until Chakotay pulled her up against his chest. And then she couldn't hold back the terrible, heart-wrenching sobs as the fear and dread overwhelmed her. It sent tremors, violent tremors through her whole body. He held her still against him and she tried to focus on him and not think of Durant just a few hours earlier holding her in the same way.
Durant, with his terrible contradictions. One minute a monster, the next almost human. After she poisoned him, he had everything she ate and drank poisoned. She avoided it until she was forced out of sheer thirst to drink the doctored water. Day after day for two weeks, each time forced by thirst to drink, each time falling ill. Doubled over in painful cramps, throwing up the small amount she'd managed to consume before the toxin kicked in, he pulled her hair back from her face, stroked her back, injected her with whatever nutrients she needed to survive. He smiled to see her sweet relief when she finished a glass without the horrible nausea striking her down, when she realized that her punishment was over.
His punishments, always a magnification of her offense, always with the terrible element of mercy that made her despise him even more. Had he been devoid of humanity, she could have understood him. But he clearly had compassion, he clearly had ethics, and he could still do this to her. He was destroying her. Every day he was killing her a bit more. He knew it, he seemed to feel some measure of remorse for it, yet he did it anyway.
And she'd never see her mother or her sister again because of him.
Kathryn felt a stab of despair. That had been the worst blow, the most horrible. If he'd started off any other way, she might have had a clear enough head to stop the situation before it escalated. She might have been able to wriggle her way out. But he had killed them both, and so brutally... so very brutally; it had blotted out her thought process. She could do nothing but comply, numb and shell-shocked. The sheer disbelief that this could happen, just months after reaching the sweet haven of Earth...
She still hadn't recovered from that blow; she never had a chance. It was always one demand after another with him, one more concession on her part, one more indignity. Always the public front, the plaster smile, the fabricated words. No one ever gave her a moment to mourn, or to simply breathe. Their faces, the faces of the only family she'd had left, were fading from her mind every day, disappearing before she'd even reconciled herself to the fact that they were gone.
She was bawling like a child now, wailing really, and she suddenly felt mortified. She would have died before she'd let Chakotay see her like this. On Voyager her grief was her own; she never burdened another with it. But now she couldn't stop. It had been so long, so very long, since she'd had a friend, a genuine friend.
Chakotay was stroking her back now, whispering soothing words into her hair. She relished the feel of his arms around her, while retaining the terrible knowledge that this would be the last time she'd ever feel them.
As time passed, and her tears began to die down, she asked, "Why are you doing this? You must hate me." Her voice was muffled against his chest.
There was a long moment of silence, then, "No. I don't hate you. I could never truly hate you, Kathryn, even when I tried."
Her heart swelled with warmth and affection for this man, this gentle soul. Chakotay. She loved him. God how she loved him. That night, that one night with him, had been her sustenance for over a year. This moment of tenderness, she knew, could help her through the dark days of the future. She clutched to him tighter, holding him fiercely, dreading that she'd soon have to let him go.
Her mind flashed back to the bridge before she sought assimilation, all those years ago. Fear and dread kept her glued to her seat, and for a long moment she felt her courage faltering. Chakotay, his eyes filled with love and support, his hand clutching hers, was only thing that propelled her from her seat and into the turbolift. And now, for the sake of this man who held her in his arms, and for the sake of the friends they both cherished, she had to walk into another certain calamity. She could do it. She was strong.
"Do you want to talk about it now?" His gentle voice brought her out of her reverie, bringing back the reality of the situation.
She pulled back out of his arms, and his dark eyes on her with concern. Kathryn managed a shaky smile, wiping the last of her tears away with unsteady fingers. "No. It's truly nothing. It's been a stressful week. I'm sorry to burden you, Commander."
His expression cooled at the use of his old rank. "Do you need anything?"
She'd been expecting that question. "Well, I could use another cup of coffee." As he rose, she put a hand on his arm to stop him. "I can get it, please sit."
He sat back down with a half smile. Janeway stood up, her expression guileless, her thoughts scheming. She walked around the bend to the replicator, discreetly taking note of the various storage compartments, picking out the weapon's locker. She activated the replicator command for coffee, and the humming of the replicator masked the sound of the weapons locker sliding open. Janeway grabbed the nearest hand phaser, and felt suddenly reassured by its solid weight in her hand.
"Can I get you anything, Chakotay?" she called as she approached the cockpit.
The oblivious Chakotay replied, "No, I'm fine." She could see his dark head turned away from her.
"Then maybe you could do something for me." Kathryn emerged into the navigational cockpit and leveled the phaser at him. He turned and she watched surprise flitter across his face. He looked her, then at the phaser, then back at her.
"What do you plan to do with that, Admiral?" he asked in an even tone.
Janeway stared him down, her eyes narrow. She spoke in the sharp voice of command. "You're going to turn this shuttle around and fly me back to Deep Space Seven immediately. Understood?"
"And why would I do that?" he asked calmly, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair in an infuriating show of calm.
"Because if you don't," Janeway said in a soft, threatening voice, "I will shoot you and fly the ship back myself."
He smiled knowingly, and she suddenly had a bad feeling about this.
"You'll find that rather difficult. The control padd responds to my DNA signature alone. You can't navigate the ship or even activate the communications equipment without my touch."
Janeway thought rapidly about that, then smirked at him with arrogant self-possession. "There's no reason you have to be conscious when I press your fingers to the controls," she said flippantly.
She felt a sudden sinking dismay when he only smiled wider. "The course is locked in and protected with a security code. Unless you have my security clearance, Kathryn, there's absolutely nothing you can do to alter it."
Janeway didn't believe him. It wasn't possible. He had to be lying. It was too goddamn convenient for him.
Keeping her phaser on him, she prowled over, grabbed his hand, manipulated his limp fingers across the console. He made no moves against her, simply smiled smugly. The computer screen requested her security code. She tried to tap into the communications array, only to receive another request for a security code.
In mounting frustration, Janeway let go of his wrist and whirled on him with a growl, "Tell me the security code!"
Chakotay shook his head briefly.
Infuriated, Janeway fired a warning shot at the wall behind him. Chakotay ducked reflexively as the beam hit, then looked back to stare at the white sparks still spraying from the charred bulkhead.
Janeway let him see that, then repeated in her most menacing tone, "Tell me the security code now, Chakotay!"
"What will you do? Stun me? That won't help. Kill me, Kathryn?" he asked, his expression unreadable.
"If I have to."
He shook his head. "I don't think you will."
"Don't test me," she said coldly.
He scrutinized her intently, seeming to gauge her intent. "No, you won't."
With a growl of frustration, Janeway fired again, over his head. He didn't even flinch.
"Shoot the wall up all you want, Kathryn. It's not going to work. You won't kill me."
"Oh won't I?" her voice was high, with an edge of desperation to it.
"No, you won't. We both know that killing me won't help you hack into that system. And besides," he added softly, "We both know you can't kill me."
"Oh? You're that sure of your worth to me, aren't you?" she meant it as a taunt, but her unsteady voice and faltering confidence ruined the effect.
He said nothing. She kept the phaser on him, even as he stood up and approached her. Kathryn was at a loss. What could she do?
"Kathryn, put the phaser down," he urged her, his dark eyes intent. "You're not going to get anywhere this way."
After a few moments in which they both knew she was defeated, she jerked the phaser back to her side, angrier than ever. Chakotay reached out to take the phaser from her, but she clutched it to her side in a compulsive grip, her glare challenging him to dare reach for it again. He shrugged and turned away, letting her keep the phaser if it made her feel better.
Janeway cradled the useless phaser in her arms, crushingly aware that she was out of options.
