Disclaimer: I didn't invent them. Don't sue, I just work here, ok?
Comment: What can I say? I hope those who thought Janeway was getting well too soon will get a different perspective. She still has a long way to go, but, as they say, every journey begins with one small step. And no, she doesn't do any swooning in this one.
Neither does Chakotay do any rescuing. Some of you may think Ckakotay is too weak here. Well, Kathryn's not the only one who needs to sort out a few things. When he goes to see her, he's in shock about what B'Elanna told him; he just wants to make sure she's all right, see her with his own eyes. After that, he has no plans, and now he finds himself paralyzed by guilt and confusion. Too bad...
One little thought: what do you think *she* was sorry for? And could that be the beginning of her way out of this "black hole"?
AND... there's a tiny little crossover with another sci-fi TV-show here... can you find it? ;-)
Review: I read and seriously consider *every* review I get, either on ff.net or via e-mail. If you don't want to have a conversation, just share your point of view, you can do it anonymously, that's fine with me. Your loss though, I'm a great conversationalist!! :-)
Maja, here's one with a little more of that introspection you like! :-)
Chapter 7: A walk in the garden
After two games, Kathryn had to excuse herself. In the bathroom, she threw up all the cookies she had eaten. All she wanted was to shut the door to her room, draw the blinds, crawl into bed and sleep, sleep, sleep. She could feel that dark, sticky poison cursing through her veins again. clotting them, seeping into her bones... But Gretchen had asked her to show Chakotay around the garden while there was still some daylight left, while the doctor helped her fix dinner. Obviously, her mother thought she and her former first officer needed to talk. And, judging by his very enthusiastic nod, so did the doctor.
And so they walked around the garden. Once. Twice. Three times. Not that there was very much to see. Gretchen's roses, which grew amazingly well and healthy, although she only tended to them when she remembered to (she used to jump up and rush out during lunch, or even in the middle of the night, screaming "oh no, my poor roses!"); a swing hanging from an old oak tree; a few unnamed, sturdy-looking, somewhat dusty shrubs; and a great deal of rather long grass.
When they were passing the swing for the third time, Chakotay stopped. A soft, grey dusk was settling around them. They had not spoken a single word.
It was not unusual for Kathryn and Chakotay to spend an evening in companionable silence. On Voyager, they would have dinner, listen to some music, sometimes even read or work on reports and duty rosters, looking up from time to time and smiling at each other. When they separated for the night, they knew what they had shared could not be shaped into words, and they didn't need to. They knew. And even though they didn't know it themselves, they believed, they believed in each other and in the possibility of something so fragile a mere thought could shatter it.
Only those quiet dinners and become rarer with the passing of time, especially in the last two years. When they did get together, it was usually after each had had dinner alone in their quarters, and Kathryn brought up personnel problems or other matters she considered too delicate to discuss in an ordinary meeting with the rest of the crew. More often than not, they would argue about command decisions; they always were able to stop the discussion before it became nasty, and Chakotay always assured the captain of his unfailing loyalty, but the ghost of a doubt had crept between them and into their hearts, it seemed. When they didn't talk, the silence was strained, and Chakotay had the feeling that she wasn't really in the same room with him. Too shy, too tired, too cowardly maybe, he felt incapable of reaching out to her. They were alone again. The belief was gone. Or was it?
Now they stood on either side of the swing, facing each other. In the closing darkness, their bodies were a vague outline, their faces a blur.
They spoke at the same time.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry."
Surprised, they were quiet for a second. Then they spoke again:
"Listen, I'm so..."
"You know, I'm really..."
They laughed awkwardly. After another pause, Kathryn said, "Ok, you first."
"All right. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for-"
Chakotay hesitated. For what? He *was* sorry, that much he knew, he was terribly sorry they had ended up this way, sitting speechless under a tree in the darkness, sorry for Kathryn, sorry for himself - but he found he had no words to describe his sadness. How had it happened? When had it started? *What* was he sorry for? I'm sorry for giving up? I'm sorry for leaving you alone? I'm sorry for being with Seven? I'm sorry you had to slash your wrists open for me to notice how sick you were, how desperately you needed my help? How do you say sorry for letting your best friend die? Suddenly, everything he could think of seemed poor, inadequate and pitiful. But there had to be something he could say, there had to be...
"Let's not do this, Kathryn."
"Do what?"
"Tell each other what we're sorry for. Not now. There will be time for that. I... I just came here to see you, and I'm happy..."
"Yes, you came to see if I was still trying to kill myself, and you're happy I'm not."
That had come out harsher than she intended, but she didn't take it back. Instinctively, she placed her hands on her hips. Since she had first seen Chakotay, she had felt increasingly sick, as if different parts of her body were slipping away in different directions. Being angry made her feel better. More in control.
Chakotay sat down on the swing and bent his head. For a second, his hand floated beside his body, as if he wanted to touch her. But she didn't see it. "Kathryn...", he said softly. She could barely hear him. His hands lay useless in his lap again. He raised his head. "Yes, I'm happy. I'm very happy."
"I'm not going to do it again, so don't worry. It was a stupid thing to do. You can tell the others I said so", she said, flatly now. If he hadn't known it was her, Chakotay would not have recognized her voice.
"The others?"
"Well, who told you? Tom, I guess? He will have told B'Elanna, and Harry, you will have told Seven, and I'm sure *someone* has told Tuvok, so... These things get around pretty fast, don't they? Anyway, I'll tell them myself soon."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm going back to San Francisco. Starfleet headquarters. See what they have to offer."
"Kathryn... shouldn't you... uhm, take it easy for a while? I don't know, stay here with your mother, try to relax..." He hated the way his voice sounded, weak and pleading, but he didn't seem to be able to stop it.
"I went for a walk today, Chakotay. I leaned against a tree and *tried* to take it easy. You know what happened?"
"What?"
"I threw up."
"Well... maybe it was something you'd eaten."
"My mother made those sandwiches, Chakotay."
"Oh."
"Yes." After a pause, she continued, but her voice was friendly now, almost sympathetic, as if it was she who had come to help Chakotay.
"You know me, Chakotay, I can't sit still and just *relax* for more than two minutes. I know I will have to think about this, but right now what I need is something to do. My sister is coming tomorrow, and she'll stay a couple of days, but after that, I'm going to start moving. And the first thing I'll do is supervise Voyager's overhaul. From what I saw there, they were chopping it up into a jigsaw puzzle."
Thankful for the now complete darkness, Kathryn leaned against the oak as another wave of nausea washed over her. But she was getting used to fighting them off, and after a few moments she was standing on her feet again.
All this felt terribly wrong for Chakotay. She didn't need to forget herself in work; that was what she had been doing for the last seven years. What she needed was to face her fear, until she knew it, and it knew her, and they were friends, she and her fear, or could at least work together. That was how the Kathryn Janeway he knew handled fear. *His* Kathryn never ran away.
But who was he to talk about fear, about cowardice, about running away. Lately, he had been doing nothing else... He wanted to tell her that, whatever she did, he still believed in her, and that he'd be with her, that he had always been with her-
"I guess by now my mother will be ready with dinner, and the doctor will have completely ruined it, so we can all order pizza", Kathryn said. "Anyway, there's not much to see anymore." She rubbed her arms, suggesting it was getting chilly, too.
Chakotay got up from the swing. As he passed her to walk back to the house, Kathryn lifted her hand as if to touch him... But he didn't see it.
He left after dinner. That night, Kathryn dreamt of standing alone in a huge borg cube, and the dead, multiple voice of the collective was speaking to her. It was asking a question:
"Who are you? What do you want?"
Comment: What can I say? I hope those who thought Janeway was getting well too soon will get a different perspective. She still has a long way to go, but, as they say, every journey begins with one small step. And no, she doesn't do any swooning in this one.
Neither does Chakotay do any rescuing. Some of you may think Ckakotay is too weak here. Well, Kathryn's not the only one who needs to sort out a few things. When he goes to see her, he's in shock about what B'Elanna told him; he just wants to make sure she's all right, see her with his own eyes. After that, he has no plans, and now he finds himself paralyzed by guilt and confusion. Too bad...
One little thought: what do you think *she* was sorry for? And could that be the beginning of her way out of this "black hole"?
AND... there's a tiny little crossover with another sci-fi TV-show here... can you find it? ;-)
Review: I read and seriously consider *every* review I get, either on ff.net or via e-mail. If you don't want to have a conversation, just share your point of view, you can do it anonymously, that's fine with me. Your loss though, I'm a great conversationalist!! :-)
Maja, here's one with a little more of that introspection you like! :-)
Chapter 7: A walk in the garden
After two games, Kathryn had to excuse herself. In the bathroom, she threw up all the cookies she had eaten. All she wanted was to shut the door to her room, draw the blinds, crawl into bed and sleep, sleep, sleep. She could feel that dark, sticky poison cursing through her veins again. clotting them, seeping into her bones... But Gretchen had asked her to show Chakotay around the garden while there was still some daylight left, while the doctor helped her fix dinner. Obviously, her mother thought she and her former first officer needed to talk. And, judging by his very enthusiastic nod, so did the doctor.
And so they walked around the garden. Once. Twice. Three times. Not that there was very much to see. Gretchen's roses, which grew amazingly well and healthy, although she only tended to them when she remembered to (she used to jump up and rush out during lunch, or even in the middle of the night, screaming "oh no, my poor roses!"); a swing hanging from an old oak tree; a few unnamed, sturdy-looking, somewhat dusty shrubs; and a great deal of rather long grass.
When they were passing the swing for the third time, Chakotay stopped. A soft, grey dusk was settling around them. They had not spoken a single word.
It was not unusual for Kathryn and Chakotay to spend an evening in companionable silence. On Voyager, they would have dinner, listen to some music, sometimes even read or work on reports and duty rosters, looking up from time to time and smiling at each other. When they separated for the night, they knew what they had shared could not be shaped into words, and they didn't need to. They knew. And even though they didn't know it themselves, they believed, they believed in each other and in the possibility of something so fragile a mere thought could shatter it.
Only those quiet dinners and become rarer with the passing of time, especially in the last two years. When they did get together, it was usually after each had had dinner alone in their quarters, and Kathryn brought up personnel problems or other matters she considered too delicate to discuss in an ordinary meeting with the rest of the crew. More often than not, they would argue about command decisions; they always were able to stop the discussion before it became nasty, and Chakotay always assured the captain of his unfailing loyalty, but the ghost of a doubt had crept between them and into their hearts, it seemed. When they didn't talk, the silence was strained, and Chakotay had the feeling that she wasn't really in the same room with him. Too shy, too tired, too cowardly maybe, he felt incapable of reaching out to her. They were alone again. The belief was gone. Or was it?
Now they stood on either side of the swing, facing each other. In the closing darkness, their bodies were a vague outline, their faces a blur.
They spoke at the same time.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry."
Surprised, they were quiet for a second. Then they spoke again:
"Listen, I'm so..."
"You know, I'm really..."
They laughed awkwardly. After another pause, Kathryn said, "Ok, you first."
"All right. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for-"
Chakotay hesitated. For what? He *was* sorry, that much he knew, he was terribly sorry they had ended up this way, sitting speechless under a tree in the darkness, sorry for Kathryn, sorry for himself - but he found he had no words to describe his sadness. How had it happened? When had it started? *What* was he sorry for? I'm sorry for giving up? I'm sorry for leaving you alone? I'm sorry for being with Seven? I'm sorry you had to slash your wrists open for me to notice how sick you were, how desperately you needed my help? How do you say sorry for letting your best friend die? Suddenly, everything he could think of seemed poor, inadequate and pitiful. But there had to be something he could say, there had to be...
"Let's not do this, Kathryn."
"Do what?"
"Tell each other what we're sorry for. Not now. There will be time for that. I... I just came here to see you, and I'm happy..."
"Yes, you came to see if I was still trying to kill myself, and you're happy I'm not."
That had come out harsher than she intended, but she didn't take it back. Instinctively, she placed her hands on her hips. Since she had first seen Chakotay, she had felt increasingly sick, as if different parts of her body were slipping away in different directions. Being angry made her feel better. More in control.
Chakotay sat down on the swing and bent his head. For a second, his hand floated beside his body, as if he wanted to touch her. But she didn't see it. "Kathryn...", he said softly. She could barely hear him. His hands lay useless in his lap again. He raised his head. "Yes, I'm happy. I'm very happy."
"I'm not going to do it again, so don't worry. It was a stupid thing to do. You can tell the others I said so", she said, flatly now. If he hadn't known it was her, Chakotay would not have recognized her voice.
"The others?"
"Well, who told you? Tom, I guess? He will have told B'Elanna, and Harry, you will have told Seven, and I'm sure *someone* has told Tuvok, so... These things get around pretty fast, don't they? Anyway, I'll tell them myself soon."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm going back to San Francisco. Starfleet headquarters. See what they have to offer."
"Kathryn... shouldn't you... uhm, take it easy for a while? I don't know, stay here with your mother, try to relax..." He hated the way his voice sounded, weak and pleading, but he didn't seem to be able to stop it.
"I went for a walk today, Chakotay. I leaned against a tree and *tried* to take it easy. You know what happened?"
"What?"
"I threw up."
"Well... maybe it was something you'd eaten."
"My mother made those sandwiches, Chakotay."
"Oh."
"Yes." After a pause, she continued, but her voice was friendly now, almost sympathetic, as if it was she who had come to help Chakotay.
"You know me, Chakotay, I can't sit still and just *relax* for more than two minutes. I know I will have to think about this, but right now what I need is something to do. My sister is coming tomorrow, and she'll stay a couple of days, but after that, I'm going to start moving. And the first thing I'll do is supervise Voyager's overhaul. From what I saw there, they were chopping it up into a jigsaw puzzle."
Thankful for the now complete darkness, Kathryn leaned against the oak as another wave of nausea washed over her. But she was getting used to fighting them off, and after a few moments she was standing on her feet again.
All this felt terribly wrong for Chakotay. She didn't need to forget herself in work; that was what she had been doing for the last seven years. What she needed was to face her fear, until she knew it, and it knew her, and they were friends, she and her fear, or could at least work together. That was how the Kathryn Janeway he knew handled fear. *His* Kathryn never ran away.
But who was he to talk about fear, about cowardice, about running away. Lately, he had been doing nothing else... He wanted to tell her that, whatever she did, he still believed in her, and that he'd be with her, that he had always been with her-
"I guess by now my mother will be ready with dinner, and the doctor will have completely ruined it, so we can all order pizza", Kathryn said. "Anyway, there's not much to see anymore." She rubbed her arms, suggesting it was getting chilly, too.
Chakotay got up from the swing. As he passed her to walk back to the house, Kathryn lifted her hand as if to touch him... But he didn't see it.
He left after dinner. That night, Kathryn dreamt of standing alone in a huge borg cube, and the dead, multiple voice of the collective was speaking to her. It was asking a question:
"Who are you? What do you want?"