Disclaimer: We don't own anything. But we're doing a better job.
Comment: I know you will HATE me for dropping Chakotay off like this in Kathryn's living room and then leaving. I promise I'll be back very soon with some of the heavy stuff we're all looking forward to. This week I've been staying with my father, who is addicted to solitaire and on-line bridge, and has only one computer...
Thank you to all the reviewers! Your enthusiasm, encouragement and good advice are writing this story as much as I am. Please keep telling me what you like, what you don't, where you would like this story to go...
This one is for Molly, the ideal reader... :-)
Chapter 6: Of constellations, cows and scrabble
It was very quiet in the kitchen during dinner. Gretchen and the doctor kept exchanging furtive glances, first surprised, then anxious, then (almost, though not quite daring to be) hopeful. Kathryn looked steadily down on her plate, and by the time the others had finished, hers was empty too.
Gretchen had never given up the habit of washing the dishes in the sink. Kathryn stood beside her mother and dried the dishes she was handed, while the doctor walked around the kitchen and stored everything neatly away in cupboards and drawers. He missed his sickbay, where everything had its place and its purpose, where he spent the hours happily lost in a tricky molecule combination or the fascinating strangeness of some recently met aliens' physiology... he missed his home. But there would be time to deal with his own lamentations further on. His first duty was as a doctor and to his crew, whether on or off Voyager. So he discreetly vanished upstairs (for some reason he felt reluctant to disconnect himself since they had arrived in the Alpha Quadrant, and he hadn't done so yet, although he knew it wasn't exactly "healthy" for him), hoping for a liberating, cleansing mother-daughter talk. He didn't fool himself that one conversation would make everything alright, dissipate all fears and restore the vibrant, resilient, laughing captain Janeway he had known (or thought he knew) for seven years. But it would be a start, it would be a start... And tonight her eyes had been unclouded for the first time. Still full of regret and sadness, yes, but the horrible veil of unnamed and numb despair that covered them was gone. Would it come back... ?
Next morning, the doctor found Gretchen sitting thoughtfully at the kitchen table, reading and sipping coffee. She greeted him with a radiant smile.
"I take it you slept well?"
"Great! Did you hear her?"
"Who, the captain? No... did you?"
"Not a peep, and isn't that wonderful? It's the first night she doesn't wake up screaming."
The doctor sat down across the table and grabbed a cookie, unaware of his own relieved sigh. It had taken Gretchen a while to get used to that sort of things, and it still made her smile every time: holograms were not supposed to sigh like that; but then holograms were not supposed to feel compassion or worry, either - or to eat cookies, for that matter.
"So, what did she say?"
"Say... ? Oh, you mean Kathryn? When?"
"Yesterday, after dinner. I thought you two would... well, talk."
"Yes, for a moment I thought so too, but - we didn't."
"Oh." The disappointment was so obvious on his face, how could a mere construction of light and shadow be so bad at hiding his emotions?, Gretchen wondered.
"We sat on the porch and looked a the stars for a while. She said some constellations in the Delta Quadrant looked so much like the ones here, that sometimes she woke up in the middle of night and looked out of the window, and for a second she would believe Voyager had miraculously found its way home... Then she said she was tired and went up to her room."
Gretchen was silent for a moment, then turned to the doctor again. "But she was - different, more like herself, like her *old* self. You... you saw it too, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did." He doubted Kathryn Janeway would ever be her *old* self again (would any of them? Well, except for him, of course, for him there was no change, only evolution...); but Gretchen was right, cautious joy was in order. As long as the captain found a self, what did it matter if it was old or new?
He looked around. "Where is she? Didn't she get up yet?"
"Oh yes, she left at seven. She went hiking."
"Hiking? What do you mean, hiking? For how long, how far?"
"Oh, she just took some sandwiches. From what she said, I guess she intended it to be more like a long walk."
"This is extremely irregular! She shouldn't be exerting herself, she hasn't been eating properly, and her physical condition is far from ideal... What is the use of taking along your own personal physician if you are not going to consult him? What am I, a glorified holographic butler?"
Gretchen suppressed a grin. "She told me you'd probably jump right through the ceiling. She said to tell you her legs were so wobbly they wouldn't take her far anyway, and she had no intention of crawling home. " I have damaged my dignity enough as it is, Kathryn had added, trying to produce a wry smile but not quite succeeding.
"Well... did she at least tell you where she was going?"
"Yes. Out there, she said."
"Oh great. Now I know exactly where to send the rescue teams."
At that, Gretchen flinched and her eyes hardened imperceptibly. "She may not be going through her best moment right now, doctor, but this is still captain Kathryn Janeway we're talking about, the woman who brought Voyager and all her crew back all the way from the Delta Quadrant, and now she's taking a stroll through the countryside she grew up in. I hardly think we will have to call in any rescue teams."
Well, if there was ever any doubt where the captain got her temper from...., the doctor thought.
"Tell me one thing, doctor."
"Yes?"
"What do you do with all those things you eat? Holographic digestion?"
For the first couple of hours, Kathryn walked steadily on, barely taking in her surroundings, concentrating on the movement of her lags, the regular in and out of her breath, the breeze on her face, the blood that rushed in her ears and made her fingertips tingle. Was this the same body that had lain, grey and dead, in the darkness and the cold, dirty water yesterday evening? Was this the same body that had seemed to her so unbearably heavy, so chockfull of something viscous, poisonous, sticky that could not be her own blood, her own life?
With the sun already high in the clear blue sky, she sat on a fence and ate her sandwiches, feet dangling. Looking around, she noticed that she was surrounded by green pastures that extended towards the horizon in every direction. She wondered what kind of vegetation this was, before remembering that she was on earth and that it most probably was nothing but ordinary grass. But if this was grass, shouldn't there be cows somewhere? It was always Phoebe who paid attention when their mother explained things about farms and farmers; Kathryn had always known that her future was far, far away from here, and relied unconsciously on her sister to keep alive the roots, the past... the past...
Half an hour later she reached a cluster of trees. Although she wasn't tired, the shadow, the sweet, melodious rustling of the leaves and the exquisitely soft grass were too tempting. What the hell, there's nowhere I should be, she thought as she sat down and leaned her back against a tree. After a moment, she took off her boots and socks.
Maybe it all boils down to this, she thought. Take a vacation, walk a little, eat some sandwiches, sit beneath a tree and think of nothing at all...
Out of nowhere, a vicious wave of nausea made her keel over, and all she could do was scramble to her knees and hide, rather absurdly, behind the tree, before throwing up.
"Well, so much for the sandwiches", she said when it was over, and her voice sounded thin, crushed somehow by all those big, fat, insultingly green and healthy leaves. It was getting chilly. Kathryn went home.
As soon as she closed the door behind her, her mother came out of the living room, a curious expression on her face.
"Hello, darling. How was the walk?"
"Short."
"Are you feeling alright? You look a little white around the nose..."
"I... I was a little faint for a moment, but please don't tell the doctor, ok mom? Provided he's not hiding around the corner, ready to scream I told you so!"
"He will anyway, you know that. But right now he's in the living room."
Kathryn began taking off her boots. "Oh, still addicted to scrabble, are we? Well, this time I'll join you and I'll show you how the game is really played."
"Well, actually, Kathryn, we have a... visitor."
"Oh." Kathryn hadn't meant to drop the boots quite so noisily.
Starfleet. That was why her mother had that strange look on her face; somehow Starfleet medical had found out where she was and *why* she was there, and now they were here to tell her she had nothing to worry about, they understood perfectly, only she would have to accompany them to one of their "facilities", where her "problem" would be treated in the most efficient manner... Maybe they had forced Tom to tell them; he was not exactly in a position to deny them anything they wanted: technically, he was still on probation, his wife was officially still part of the Maquis, and he had his daughter's future to think about.
No, she wouldn't blame him. He had saved her life, and she hadn't even thanked him for it. Now it was her turn not to let him down. No matter how much more time she had hoped for (time for what?), this was it. She would step into the living room, she would hold her head high, and she would tell those very friendly uniformed people exactly what-
"Kathryn!"
Not so long ago, this was the face she had seen beside her on the bridge every day. This was the face she turned to when there were decisions to make, and this was the face she thought of (privately, oh so very privately) when she was lonely, when she felt so cold she couldn't take one more step and the smile froze on her face, when she was so tired she felt sick at the mere thought of getting up in the morning... Then, it had turned into the face she didn't allow herself to think of anymore, and so the loneliness filled her up, and the cold, and she *did* feel sick most of the time, but what of that. She still had Voyager, yes, she still had Voyager... And now, standing not two steps away from her, he seemed as distant as someone else's dream.
Her first impulse was to bolt out and run all the way to Mars. The second, to throw herself at him and make him promise he would never leave. But she had come into the room with the firm decision to act like an adult woman, like *captain* Kathryn Janeway, goddamn it, and that's what she would do.
"Chakotay! Well, what a... pleasant surprise. Ah... do you play scrabble?"
Great. Just great.
Comment: I know you will HATE me for dropping Chakotay off like this in Kathryn's living room and then leaving. I promise I'll be back very soon with some of the heavy stuff we're all looking forward to. This week I've been staying with my father, who is addicted to solitaire and on-line bridge, and has only one computer...
Thank you to all the reviewers! Your enthusiasm, encouragement and good advice are writing this story as much as I am. Please keep telling me what you like, what you don't, where you would like this story to go...
This one is for Molly, the ideal reader... :-)
Chapter 6: Of constellations, cows and scrabble
It was very quiet in the kitchen during dinner. Gretchen and the doctor kept exchanging furtive glances, first surprised, then anxious, then (almost, though not quite daring to be) hopeful. Kathryn looked steadily down on her plate, and by the time the others had finished, hers was empty too.
Gretchen had never given up the habit of washing the dishes in the sink. Kathryn stood beside her mother and dried the dishes she was handed, while the doctor walked around the kitchen and stored everything neatly away in cupboards and drawers. He missed his sickbay, where everything had its place and its purpose, where he spent the hours happily lost in a tricky molecule combination or the fascinating strangeness of some recently met aliens' physiology... he missed his home. But there would be time to deal with his own lamentations further on. His first duty was as a doctor and to his crew, whether on or off Voyager. So he discreetly vanished upstairs (for some reason he felt reluctant to disconnect himself since they had arrived in the Alpha Quadrant, and he hadn't done so yet, although he knew it wasn't exactly "healthy" for him), hoping for a liberating, cleansing mother-daughter talk. He didn't fool himself that one conversation would make everything alright, dissipate all fears and restore the vibrant, resilient, laughing captain Janeway he had known (or thought he knew) for seven years. But it would be a start, it would be a start... And tonight her eyes had been unclouded for the first time. Still full of regret and sadness, yes, but the horrible veil of unnamed and numb despair that covered them was gone. Would it come back... ?
Next morning, the doctor found Gretchen sitting thoughtfully at the kitchen table, reading and sipping coffee. She greeted him with a radiant smile.
"I take it you slept well?"
"Great! Did you hear her?"
"Who, the captain? No... did you?"
"Not a peep, and isn't that wonderful? It's the first night she doesn't wake up screaming."
The doctor sat down across the table and grabbed a cookie, unaware of his own relieved sigh. It had taken Gretchen a while to get used to that sort of things, and it still made her smile every time: holograms were not supposed to sigh like that; but then holograms were not supposed to feel compassion or worry, either - or to eat cookies, for that matter.
"So, what did she say?"
"Say... ? Oh, you mean Kathryn? When?"
"Yesterday, after dinner. I thought you two would... well, talk."
"Yes, for a moment I thought so too, but - we didn't."
"Oh." The disappointment was so obvious on his face, how could a mere construction of light and shadow be so bad at hiding his emotions?, Gretchen wondered.
"We sat on the porch and looked a the stars for a while. She said some constellations in the Delta Quadrant looked so much like the ones here, that sometimes she woke up in the middle of night and looked out of the window, and for a second she would believe Voyager had miraculously found its way home... Then she said she was tired and went up to her room."
Gretchen was silent for a moment, then turned to the doctor again. "But she was - different, more like herself, like her *old* self. You... you saw it too, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did." He doubted Kathryn Janeway would ever be her *old* self again (would any of them? Well, except for him, of course, for him there was no change, only evolution...); but Gretchen was right, cautious joy was in order. As long as the captain found a self, what did it matter if it was old or new?
He looked around. "Where is she? Didn't she get up yet?"
"Oh yes, she left at seven. She went hiking."
"Hiking? What do you mean, hiking? For how long, how far?"
"Oh, she just took some sandwiches. From what she said, I guess she intended it to be more like a long walk."
"This is extremely irregular! She shouldn't be exerting herself, she hasn't been eating properly, and her physical condition is far from ideal... What is the use of taking along your own personal physician if you are not going to consult him? What am I, a glorified holographic butler?"
Gretchen suppressed a grin. "She told me you'd probably jump right through the ceiling. She said to tell you her legs were so wobbly they wouldn't take her far anyway, and she had no intention of crawling home. " I have damaged my dignity enough as it is, Kathryn had added, trying to produce a wry smile but not quite succeeding.
"Well... did she at least tell you where she was going?"
"Yes. Out there, she said."
"Oh great. Now I know exactly where to send the rescue teams."
At that, Gretchen flinched and her eyes hardened imperceptibly. "She may not be going through her best moment right now, doctor, but this is still captain Kathryn Janeway we're talking about, the woman who brought Voyager and all her crew back all the way from the Delta Quadrant, and now she's taking a stroll through the countryside she grew up in. I hardly think we will have to call in any rescue teams."
Well, if there was ever any doubt where the captain got her temper from...., the doctor thought.
"Tell me one thing, doctor."
"Yes?"
"What do you do with all those things you eat? Holographic digestion?"
For the first couple of hours, Kathryn walked steadily on, barely taking in her surroundings, concentrating on the movement of her lags, the regular in and out of her breath, the breeze on her face, the blood that rushed in her ears and made her fingertips tingle. Was this the same body that had lain, grey and dead, in the darkness and the cold, dirty water yesterday evening? Was this the same body that had seemed to her so unbearably heavy, so chockfull of something viscous, poisonous, sticky that could not be her own blood, her own life?
With the sun already high in the clear blue sky, she sat on a fence and ate her sandwiches, feet dangling. Looking around, she noticed that she was surrounded by green pastures that extended towards the horizon in every direction. She wondered what kind of vegetation this was, before remembering that she was on earth and that it most probably was nothing but ordinary grass. But if this was grass, shouldn't there be cows somewhere? It was always Phoebe who paid attention when their mother explained things about farms and farmers; Kathryn had always known that her future was far, far away from here, and relied unconsciously on her sister to keep alive the roots, the past... the past...
Half an hour later she reached a cluster of trees. Although she wasn't tired, the shadow, the sweet, melodious rustling of the leaves and the exquisitely soft grass were too tempting. What the hell, there's nowhere I should be, she thought as she sat down and leaned her back against a tree. After a moment, she took off her boots and socks.
Maybe it all boils down to this, she thought. Take a vacation, walk a little, eat some sandwiches, sit beneath a tree and think of nothing at all...
Out of nowhere, a vicious wave of nausea made her keel over, and all she could do was scramble to her knees and hide, rather absurdly, behind the tree, before throwing up.
"Well, so much for the sandwiches", she said when it was over, and her voice sounded thin, crushed somehow by all those big, fat, insultingly green and healthy leaves. It was getting chilly. Kathryn went home.
As soon as she closed the door behind her, her mother came out of the living room, a curious expression on her face.
"Hello, darling. How was the walk?"
"Short."
"Are you feeling alright? You look a little white around the nose..."
"I... I was a little faint for a moment, but please don't tell the doctor, ok mom? Provided he's not hiding around the corner, ready to scream I told you so!"
"He will anyway, you know that. But right now he's in the living room."
Kathryn began taking off her boots. "Oh, still addicted to scrabble, are we? Well, this time I'll join you and I'll show you how the game is really played."
"Well, actually, Kathryn, we have a... visitor."
"Oh." Kathryn hadn't meant to drop the boots quite so noisily.
Starfleet. That was why her mother had that strange look on her face; somehow Starfleet medical had found out where she was and *why* she was there, and now they were here to tell her she had nothing to worry about, they understood perfectly, only she would have to accompany them to one of their "facilities", where her "problem" would be treated in the most efficient manner... Maybe they had forced Tom to tell them; he was not exactly in a position to deny them anything they wanted: technically, he was still on probation, his wife was officially still part of the Maquis, and he had his daughter's future to think about.
No, she wouldn't blame him. He had saved her life, and she hadn't even thanked him for it. Now it was her turn not to let him down. No matter how much more time she had hoped for (time for what?), this was it. She would step into the living room, she would hold her head high, and she would tell those very friendly uniformed people exactly what-
"Kathryn!"
Not so long ago, this was the face she had seen beside her on the bridge every day. This was the face she turned to when there were decisions to make, and this was the face she thought of (privately, oh so very privately) when she was lonely, when she felt so cold she couldn't take one more step and the smile froze on her face, when she was so tired she felt sick at the mere thought of getting up in the morning... Then, it had turned into the face she didn't allow herself to think of anymore, and so the loneliness filled her up, and the cold, and she *did* feel sick most of the time, but what of that. She still had Voyager, yes, she still had Voyager... And now, standing not two steps away from her, he seemed as distant as someone else's dream.
Her first impulse was to bolt out and run all the way to Mars. The second, to throw herself at him and make him promise he would never leave. But she had come into the room with the firm decision to act like an adult woman, like *captain* Kathryn Janeway, goddamn it, and that's what she would do.
"Chakotay! Well, what a... pleasant surprise. Ah... do you play scrabble?"
Great. Just great.