DISCLAIMER; STAR TREK AND THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO PARAMOUNT.
Leaning back into the sofa he rested his head on his hands. He so wanted to forget, but that was impossible. He needed to move forward but the events of the last few months ha a strong hold on to him.
When had things got so bad, or had they? Was it his perception of the events, or the events themselves that were the problem? Was he seeing problems where there were none?
He sat up his body hunched forward his head almost touching his knees. He needed to clear his mind. Rubbing the back of his neck he rose and moved toward the replicator.
"Coffee hot, black" he spoke knowing how amused Kathryn would be at his lapse as she would see it towards her main vice. The thought of her struggling to comprehend his choice of drink made him smile. He had never been able to bring himself to admit he liked black coffee. The distraction they both gained from his half hearted attempts to convert her from the "evils of caffeine" was a game they both enjoyed.
They had many "games" they played they had had built up quite a repertoire over the years. Both knew the ground rules and played accordingly. Although at times Kathryn would push the boundaries. At those times he was the one who brought them back within the playing field. Knowing when she did push it was almost as if it were a test, to see how safe it was, how much she could let him see of Kathryn and still feel "safe" with their relationship. He knew she could never commit to anything unless she had tested the theory first. It pleased him to see her enjoyment at the discomfort her theory testing sometimes pushed him to. She flirted with him on the bridge and in front of the crew, he knew she was pushing him for a reaction, but he also knew that a reaction was in fact the last thing she wanted. He was "safe" territory for her, a straight man who she used as the butt for her humour when defusing situations. Sometimes to keep her on her toes he would give her a look saying "careful Kathryn or you may get what you ask for" at those times he saw her eyes dance at those moments she always touched his arm or put a hand on his chest, as if to appease him. He never touched her in front of the crew; in fact he never spoke her name out loud in company. That too was part of their game.
He stood drinking his coffee, trying to recall when they had become so comfortable with each other, New Earth, The 37's Coda, Seeska.
When had they become more than best friends,
He slumped back on the chair he recalled other words
"Unless I can repair the damage she may never regain consciousness" "ENSIGN WILDMANS BABY HAD DIED" "It will be your undoing" "THE MOMENT WE TURNED AWAY FROM EACH OTHER" "I'm sorry she's dead" "WE'VE LOST HARRY" "do I think Seeska could manipulate you and me with this yes" "GOING TO BE A FATHER " "trapped" "IF WE DON'T DO SOMETHING B'ELLANA WILL DIE" "it's the borg" "DON'T YOU DIE ON ME KATHRYN BREATHE DAMN IT BREATHE" To many thoughts in his head to many voices.
He held his head the words hammering in his brain "At what point is the risk too great, at what point do we come about and retreat to friendly territory, could the crew accept living out the rest of their lives in the delta quadrant. I keep looking to all these Captains my comrades in arms but the truth is I'm alone." he breathed "If that moment ever comes we'll face it together and we'll make the right decision your not alone Kathryn." His eyes hurt but he could not cry "A few years ago, I didn't even know your name now I couldn't imagine a day without you"
His self control was something Chakotay valued highly and the thought of loosing that control terrified him. His grandfather had lost his mind and Chakotay as a boy had been disgusted by the old man's behaviour "crazy old man" he had though. As time passed he realised he dreaded the thought it could happen to him, that he would not know reality from fantasy. But that was what the Vori had done. In their attempt to brain wash him they had altered his perception of reality. Doing so they had rekindled in him what he tried to keep suppressed even from himself.
The hatred they had uncovered was something he had managed to keep under a tight reign on his time on Voyager. Soon after he had come aboard he had started to feel an inner peace he had never before experienced. Over the years he had come to believe it was a part of him that had gone forever. The Marquis had been his family. But that was always tempered by the fact that in the fight to keep them alive he had lost a little more of himself every day. The violence and hatred he could unleash in himself to fight the Cardassian's almost a distant memory now. Some times it was as if he was recalling someone else's memories of that time. So different was he now. Travelling by her side, trying to lessen her burden. He had he become a man of peace? He had seen enough pain and suffering to last anyone more than a lifetime.
Once he had tried to explain his past and his present to her. By way of an ancient legend he had hoped she had understood. He liked to believe she had and they had moved forward from that. He did know their friendship had grown they had almost become intertwined so that each knew the other's thoughts. Their command relationship and their friendship had blossomed over the years, and the ship and crew had flourished.
But now the command relationship was workable but;
Kathryn and Chakotay were floundering, both afraid of the next step not for the step but because of what they stood to loose by taking it. But why is all he needed to know. Why?
"That's a luxury I do not have" her voice as clear as a bell so much so he opened his eyes and searched the room for her. Knowing she was not there only in his head.
He knew of course she was the Captain and she lived by the rules of Starfleet; All Captains were in the same position, but most of them had the safety blanket of a hierarchy above them, ever present, Ambassadors and Starfleet committees, Admirals and review boards. But she had only herself her crew and him. Sometimes she could not afford he knew to listen to the latter. Sometimes she could not afford not to. Too much pressure at times he wondered how he would cope. But he knew they were both driven by the same desire although for different reasons to get the crew home. Her reason because her decision had stranded them, his reason because she needed too.
But the cost they were paying to get them home was high;
His to forsake Kathryn until she got them home.
Hers to forsake Kathryn until she got them home.
It was the chicken and the egg, which was the higher sacrifice.
But they both had the same end result.
Sadness and anger.
He had told her the other day "he wished it was as easy to stop hating as it was to start" when he had looked at Kathryn he saw her distress at the hate in his eye's; he regretted it now had she thought he meant it for her. He had turned and walked away. Unable to speak for the anger building, not even able to trust him self.
Now he was angry at the whole damned mess.
He did not need these feelings to survive now. At one time they were a necessity for his survival he had carried hate and anger with him daily. But now they were dragging him down into the darkness and he craved the light.
Once again he lowered his head but the tears would not come.
I COULD CONTINUE I HAVE AN END IN MIND? .
Leaning back into the sofa he rested his head on his hands. He so wanted to forget, but that was impossible. He needed to move forward but the events of the last few months ha a strong hold on to him.
When had things got so bad, or had they? Was it his perception of the events, or the events themselves that were the problem? Was he seeing problems where there were none?
He sat up his body hunched forward his head almost touching his knees. He needed to clear his mind. Rubbing the back of his neck he rose and moved toward the replicator.
"Coffee hot, black" he spoke knowing how amused Kathryn would be at his lapse as she would see it towards her main vice. The thought of her struggling to comprehend his choice of drink made him smile. He had never been able to bring himself to admit he liked black coffee. The distraction they both gained from his half hearted attempts to convert her from the "evils of caffeine" was a game they both enjoyed.
They had many "games" they played they had had built up quite a repertoire over the years. Both knew the ground rules and played accordingly. Although at times Kathryn would push the boundaries. At those times he was the one who brought them back within the playing field. Knowing when she did push it was almost as if it were a test, to see how safe it was, how much she could let him see of Kathryn and still feel "safe" with their relationship. He knew she could never commit to anything unless she had tested the theory first. It pleased him to see her enjoyment at the discomfort her theory testing sometimes pushed him to. She flirted with him on the bridge and in front of the crew, he knew she was pushing him for a reaction, but he also knew that a reaction was in fact the last thing she wanted. He was "safe" territory for her, a straight man who she used as the butt for her humour when defusing situations. Sometimes to keep her on her toes he would give her a look saying "careful Kathryn or you may get what you ask for" at those times he saw her eyes dance at those moments she always touched his arm or put a hand on his chest, as if to appease him. He never touched her in front of the crew; in fact he never spoke her name out loud in company. That too was part of their game.
He stood drinking his coffee, trying to recall when they had become so comfortable with each other, New Earth, The 37's Coda, Seeska.
When had they become more than best friends,
He slumped back on the chair he recalled other words
"Unless I can repair the damage she may never regain consciousness" "ENSIGN WILDMANS BABY HAD DIED" "It will be your undoing" "THE MOMENT WE TURNED AWAY FROM EACH OTHER" "I'm sorry she's dead" "WE'VE LOST HARRY" "do I think Seeska could manipulate you and me with this yes" "GOING TO BE A FATHER " "trapped" "IF WE DON'T DO SOMETHING B'ELLANA WILL DIE" "it's the borg" "DON'T YOU DIE ON ME KATHRYN BREATHE DAMN IT BREATHE" To many thoughts in his head to many voices.
He held his head the words hammering in his brain "At what point is the risk too great, at what point do we come about and retreat to friendly territory, could the crew accept living out the rest of their lives in the delta quadrant. I keep looking to all these Captains my comrades in arms but the truth is I'm alone." he breathed "If that moment ever comes we'll face it together and we'll make the right decision your not alone Kathryn." His eyes hurt but he could not cry "A few years ago, I didn't even know your name now I couldn't imagine a day without you"
His self control was something Chakotay valued highly and the thought of loosing that control terrified him. His grandfather had lost his mind and Chakotay as a boy had been disgusted by the old man's behaviour "crazy old man" he had though. As time passed he realised he dreaded the thought it could happen to him, that he would not know reality from fantasy. But that was what the Vori had done. In their attempt to brain wash him they had altered his perception of reality. Doing so they had rekindled in him what he tried to keep suppressed even from himself.
The hatred they had uncovered was something he had managed to keep under a tight reign on his time on Voyager. Soon after he had come aboard he had started to feel an inner peace he had never before experienced. Over the years he had come to believe it was a part of him that had gone forever. The Marquis had been his family. But that was always tempered by the fact that in the fight to keep them alive he had lost a little more of himself every day. The violence and hatred he could unleash in himself to fight the Cardassian's almost a distant memory now. Some times it was as if he was recalling someone else's memories of that time. So different was he now. Travelling by her side, trying to lessen her burden. He had he become a man of peace? He had seen enough pain and suffering to last anyone more than a lifetime.
Once he had tried to explain his past and his present to her. By way of an ancient legend he had hoped she had understood. He liked to believe she had and they had moved forward from that. He did know their friendship had grown they had almost become intertwined so that each knew the other's thoughts. Their command relationship and their friendship had blossomed over the years, and the ship and crew had flourished.
But now the command relationship was workable but;
Kathryn and Chakotay were floundering, both afraid of the next step not for the step but because of what they stood to loose by taking it. But why is all he needed to know. Why?
"That's a luxury I do not have" her voice as clear as a bell so much so he opened his eyes and searched the room for her. Knowing she was not there only in his head.
He knew of course she was the Captain and she lived by the rules of Starfleet; All Captains were in the same position, but most of them had the safety blanket of a hierarchy above them, ever present, Ambassadors and Starfleet committees, Admirals and review boards. But she had only herself her crew and him. Sometimes she could not afford he knew to listen to the latter. Sometimes she could not afford not to. Too much pressure at times he wondered how he would cope. But he knew they were both driven by the same desire although for different reasons to get the crew home. Her reason because her decision had stranded them, his reason because she needed too.
But the cost they were paying to get them home was high;
His to forsake Kathryn until she got them home.
Hers to forsake Kathryn until she got them home.
It was the chicken and the egg, which was the higher sacrifice.
But they both had the same end result.
Sadness and anger.
He had told her the other day "he wished it was as easy to stop hating as it was to start" when he had looked at Kathryn he saw her distress at the hate in his eye's; he regretted it now had she thought he meant it for her. He had turned and walked away. Unable to speak for the anger building, not even able to trust him self.
Now he was angry at the whole damned mess.
He did not need these feelings to survive now. At one time they were a necessity for his survival he had carried hate and anger with him daily. But now they were dragging him down into the darkness and he craved the light.
Once again he lowered his head but the tears would not come.
I COULD CONTINUE I HAVE AN END IN MIND? .