They had been walking for so long now, Chakotay wasn't sure of just how long it had been, or how long it would take to get somewhere safe. Already the cold was taking it's toll largely; Kathryn was lagging more now than she had been. Her head was always lowered and she took uncertain steps, but that wasn't surprising in the wind and the unreliable snow drifts.

He dropped back to her side, looking at her. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

"I'm f-fine. But, you kn-know, it w-wouldn't matter even if I w-weren't. We d-don't have any ch-choice but to go on." She shivered again.

"Just hang on, Kathryn. We must be getting close." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as if to warm her, but he wasn't sure he had enough body heat left to do anything.

She gave him a weak smile, lifting her head only long enough to show the slightly paled face and deeply colored cheeks.

They walked on, Chakotay still by her side, still supporting her. More time passed, more wind and sleet and snow lashed at them. Breathing heavily in clouds of misty steam, he put the arm not in a protective gesture around Kathryn's shoulders in front of his face in a feeble attempt to shield his face somewhat.

Then he felt the solid body slip from his grasp, heard a thud of something on snow. Turning sharply, he went to his own knees beside his kneeling Captain. There she stayed, arms wrapped around her abdomen, eyes glazing as he watched. "Kathryn," he said, reaching out. Even when he touched her she didn't move. "Kathryn."

Her eyes closed slowly and opened again just as sluggishly. She shook her head. "I..can't..." she said groggily.

"Yes, you can. Come on, we have to keep moving."

"No...I can't..."

"Kathryn, get up. We're going on."

She coughed, and looked up at him with a tired look in her numb face. "Chakotay," she breathed. "I want...you to...go."

"What?" Realization dawned, and he frowned deeply, shaking his head. "No. I won't."

"You...have to..."

"I won't leave you. I won't," he insisted.

She coughed again. "You're only...making it harder...for yourself..."

"I'm not leaving you to die!" he said sharply. She couldn't possibly be serious. She was delusional, that had to be it. She couldn't possibly think he would leave her, here, alone. To die.

"I am giving you...a direct order..."

"And I'm disobeying it. Kathryn, I--"

"Please...I don't want...to be responsable for...your death...as well..." she said, her voice weak and strained with obvious effort.

"What do you mean?"

"My weakness...is no reason...for you to stay...behind...And perish...with me..."

"You're not weak, Kathryn," he said, frowning again. "In fact, you're one of the strongest people I know."

She gave a tiny laugh. "Then why am I...the one...who can't...go on, huh?"

Shaking his head again, he continued, trying to ignore the freezing cold for a minute. "Just because your body isn't accustomed to this cold of an environment...doesn't make you weak."

"Chakotay...I already...told you...this is my decision...and mine alone."

"Don't I get a say in it?" He couldn't let her do this. It was suicide.

"...What...?"

"You're not just any human being, Kathryn...You're...you're..." He searched desperately for several seconds for the words to describe the extraordinary woman before him.

All at once the memories of the images and feelings of the dance rushed back to him. It hadn't been a passing thought. It hadn't been random at all. It hadn't been nothing.

Something occured to him, and as soon as it came, he knew with absolute certainty that he was entirely ready to say it. To say exactly what he felt, what he thought, what he...knew. "You're the woman I love."

Her head had turned to him, some of the dreamy look lost from her face now and replaced with wonder, as if she were trying to determine whether he had actually said what she thought he had. But if she were going to say anything, it was cut short as she fainted into inky blackness and fell limply to lay in the snow.

But he knew she had heard him, had understood him. And now he just had to get her somewhere warm. Everything would be fine. He had finally been able to tell her that what he felt for her was not just loyalty. It was not just friendship.

He loved her.