One shot type of story, set during Resolutions.

I'm not sure where this is going, but if you like it and want me to try and make it a really thing, pls review.

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Chakotay looked across the table at his companion. She was picking at her food, mostly pushing it around her plate. He studied her face and saw her brow furrowed slightly. He thought perhaps she had a headache. He knew she got them frequently. After a solid minute of her not putting anything in her mouth, he said, "Kathryn, are you okay? You're not eating."

She looked up at him, as if surprised that he noticed and in fact, as if she was surprised to even find him there at all.

She shook her held slightly, as if to rid her own mind of cobwebs. "Just tired, I think. I'm not that hungry." Then, realizing she may have offended the chef, corrected "Its very good though, thank you."

He smiled softly at her. "I'm not worried about the quality of the meal, just checking in. You look out of sorts."

She put on a smile for her. "I'm fine really." She stood and moved to clear her plate from the table. "I'm going to get some fresh air and then turn in early tonight I think."

He nodded at her, trying not to show his concern. This wasn't like her at all.

Later that evening, Kathryn had gone to bed on the early side, and Chakotay had followed not that much later. In the middle of the night, Chakotay awoke with a start to the sound of shattering glass. Heart racing, he got out of bed and peeked around the wall to see if Kathryn was still sleeping. Finding her bed empty, he went into the other room calling "Kathryn?" and listening carefully for any noises.

As he entered the main room of their shelter, he saw her standing in the darkness in front of the replicator. "It's fine, Chakotay. I just came to get some water and I dropped the glass."

Still processing everything after his sudden awakening, he said "Computer, lights." The lights came up immediately and he blinked at the sudden change. He saw Kathryn standing in her night clothes, in front of the replicator. She bent down to pick up some of the shards of glass at her feet.

"Kathryn, stop!" he warned. She was standing in the middle of a puddle of water and broken glass in her bare feet. She didn't heed his warning and didn't stop trying to clean up the glass.

"Kathryn! Wait!" He tried again. He could see her hands trembling from where he was across the room. Her hands were shaking so badly that when she went to pick up the largest piece of glass, it cut deeply into her hand and she dropped it. It shattered further and a tiny shard hit her foot. A single drop of blood appeared. The cut on her hand continued to bleed and blood dripped onto the floor. She straightened and stood, unmoving except for the uncontrolled shaking of her entire body. From across the room, Chakotay walked towards her, grabbing a two dish towels from the small kitchen. He handed her one from across the small island. "For your hand," he said. "Don't move," he ordered. He looked at her closely. She was pale and trembling and small beads of sweat appeared on her brow. "Can you just stand for one more minute?" He seriously doubted she could for much longer than that. She nodded. He wondered what was going on with her. She didn't seem like the type to have a reaction to blood. He tried to remember if she'd ever been queasy with injuries in the past.

He slipped on his shoes and returned to her with the second towel, using it to carefully wipe up the water, broken glass, and blood on the floor. He pushed aside as much of it as he could, giving her a safe path to walk. She was clenching the edge of the counter with one hand, the other hand wrapped in the bloody towel. She swayed on her feet as he reached her. Quickly taking her elbow and reaching his other arm around her before she collapsed completely, he gently led her back to her bed. He could feel her muscles trembling against his support. Depositing her sitting on the edge, he went to get a medical tricorder. "What happened?" he asked her.

"I woke up with a terrible headache and I was so thirsty. I went to get some water and I dropped the glass," she said in a quiet and somewhat flat voice. She looked up at him slightly confused. "I'm so cold!" she said with emphasis, her voice shaking from the tremors her body couldn't control.

He was moving the medical device around her in hopes of finding some answers and direction. She was still shaking badly as he took her hand and ran the dermal regenerator over it, healing the cut.

"What are you feeling? Headache? Cold? What else?" he demanded, trying to make sense of it all. "And don't tell me you're fine. We're past that. Clearly."

"I'm really dizzy, a little nausea. I feel hot but also cold, and my vision is blurry," she said. Her teeth were chattering, he could hear it. She was pale and the sweat on her forehead was becoming more pronounced.

The tricorder beeped at him. He studied it carefully. Her heart rate was high, way over 100. Her blood pressure was 72/45 and she had a fever of 40.1 degrees. He tried not to let the worry show on his face. "Come on, lay down," he encouraged her. He went to the replicator to get the medication recommended by the tricorder. She was still trembling in the bed, clutching the mattress when he returned.

What was causing this? The fact that she was shaking even lying down was worrying him. And he wasn't sure, but he thought that blood pressure was a very bad sign. After giving the hypospray, he changed some settings on the tricorder and scanned again.

Kathryn was clenching the blanket in her hands at her sides, trying to stop the shaking and failing. "Is it the virus?" she asked.

"I think it must be," he replied, the calm in his voice belaying the anxiety crawling up his chest. He adjusted the medical device again and rescanned her. She watched him silently, her inner focus trying to control her body. Her knees her were almost involuntarily creeping up towards her chest, her eyes squeezed closed. The tricorder beeped at Chakotay again and he scanned it. It was indeed the virus they had been infected with. It was replicating unchecked in her body. He watched the viral load rising as the tricorder continued scanning. Chakotay struggled to remember what he knew of infections, to recall any medical information he may have stored away in his mind. The tremors were the body's way of increasing temperature to destroy the pathogen. Same with a fever, he remembered.

He went and grabbed the blanket from his bed and threw that on top of her. She gave him a small smile and closed her eyes again, too miserable to do anything else. She sighed and he reached up a hand to sweep the hair off her forehead. Given that her eyes were closed at this moment, he let himself frown a little at the heat radiating off her skin. She seemed to be lying quietly for the moment, perhaps she'd even fallen asleep, though he could see her shaking still. He stood silently and stalked to the other room to get a computer. He brought up the files the doctor had left there with all the known information about the virus. Thinking themselves asymptomatic while on the planet, he hadn't bothered reading up on it. He wondered if this was what had happened to them the first time. He'd already been barely conscious in Sick Bay when the Captain had fallen ill. She'd been found unconscious on the Ready Room floor and if this is how the disease manifested he could see how that happened.

He didn't want to drop her fever and decrease the chance to nullify the virus but he also knew her body couldn't handle temperatures like that for long. He settled for a slight fever reducing medication that was also a pain reliever. He brought over a bowl of cold water and a cloth and started wiping her face. It may be old fashioned but it was at least something he could do.

By the time the sun was coming up, Kathryn seemed to have calmed somewhat. Her fever dropped to a level that, while not normal, didn't feel life threatening and her body had stopped shaking so badly. He stepped away to take care of some basic hygiene for himself. He replicated a water and two small juices and returned to her sleeping form. As he came towards her, she turned onto her side and opened her eyes.

"Hey," he said gently. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm sure I've felt worse but I can't remember when," she replied with a croak. He pulled out the medical tricorder and scanned her again. He must've scanned her every 5 minutes overnight. He saw her fever was still down, heart rate was borderline, but her blood pressure was sliding down again.

"Do you think you can sit and drink a little?" he asked her. She nodded and struggled to sit up. He reached behind her and lifted her shoulders to a sit and then shoved a couple of pillows behind her. He offered her the juice and the water. She took the juice from his hand, and his hand immediately caught up with hers to steady it as she drank. She sipped at it and then pushed it towards him, clearly communicating she was done. He didn't want to push her. He prepared another couple of hyposprays, something with fluids and electrolytes and another with a fever reducer. When he turned back to her she had slumped down into the bed and curled onto her side. He pressed the hyposprays into her neck and heard her sigh a shuddering sigh.

The next 48 hours passed in similar fashion. At times the shaking was so bad that Kathryn's muscles ached and her jaw throbbed. She couldn't sleep because of the ache and she couldn't stay awake because of the fatigue. She was in limbo, her body wracked by a process beyond anyone's control. She had occasional moments of clarity when the fever receded for a moment and she could focus on her surroundings. At one of these moments, she saw Chakotay sprawled in a chair next to her bed. It was a chair from the other room that he must have dragged into her room. He had slumped down in it, his long legs stretching across the space in front of him. His head nodded with sleep.

At some point in the early morning of the third day, she'd gotten herself tangled in the bedding, damp with her sweat, and had woken in a panic. She had cried out and Chakotay was instantly there, carefully sorting out her limbs. He assessed her for a moment, and seeing she seemed fairly alert, brought her a mug of broth to sip. "You have to keep hydrated," he encouraged. "Your body needs it." She nodded in acknowledgement and tried her best to drink the salty liquid. He took the mug from her when she started to shake again. She sighed and let out something close to what he would call a whimper as her body was wracked with the fever again. It was the most un-Janeway like noise he could imagine. He looked at her with alarm. "What is it?" he asked.

"I don't think I can do this anymore," she said. She looked at him sadly.

"Don't give up!" he said. "Don't you dare give up, Kathryn Janeway." She looked away as her teeth began to chatter and she grabbed the bed to try to keep herself from falling.

Chakotay's heart broke. He didn't know what else to do. He'd already given her the maximum dose of all the medications he knew about, that the doctor had suggested, and that his limited research had suggested might be helpful. She was suffering and he was helpless. He was also terrified, of losing his friend, this woman, his only companion. Just a couple of days ago, he had almost been content. He had been able to envision himself living on this planet, with her as a companion, and maybe something more. And now? Watching her face contorted with pain, he came beside her. He lay down on the bed and pulled her against him, her back to his front, holding her tight and letting his own body absorb the shock of her tremors. His knees bent up to fit against the fold of her knees. His upper arm snaked around to hold her arms to her chest, the arm under him bent up and her head rested on his inner elbow. His hand gently held her forehead, pushing her hair up over her forehead. She let out a small sob and turned her face into his arm and abandoned herself to the shaking and the fever.

He awoke hours later, the sun streaming in the window. The woman in his arms lay quietly. Not wanting to disturb her, he stilled and did a thorough evaluation of her. Her brow was dry against his hand, though her hair was slightly damp against her scalp. She was warm but not hot, not like she had been. Her breathing was slow and regular. And most of all, her body was still. There were no tremors, no shaking, no restless movements of delirium, no shifting uncomfortable in wakefulness hunting for a comfortable position. Just peace. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. She shifted slightly at the movement but then was still again. He lay there, not wanting to disturb her, but also enjoying the comfort of the precious life in his arms. He slowly became aware of the stiffness in his own body. The effort of keeping her still had strained his muscles and his arm was starting to tingle. Slowly, minuscule movements one at a time he began to edge his body away from hers. A couple times she stirred, but still remained asleep, until eventually he was able to extricate himself from her. He covered her with the blanket and replaced his own body with a pillow. He slipped out of the bed and padded into the other room.

He returned a few minutes later with teeth brushed and face washed, with a cup of tea in his hands. Kathryn opened her eyes and rolled onto her back at the sound of his footsteps. He set down the cup of tea and cake to her side.

"Hey there," he said quietly. "How are you feeling?"

She furrowed her brow slightly at that. How WAS she feeling? She took stock of her body. Her head felt funny and stiff, but she didn't actually have a headache. She could move her arms and legs, and she knew where she was and why. Her entire body felt weak and sore. "I think I'm okay?" she asked, looking at him for confirmation. "Everything hurts and I'm so tired, but I think I'm okay."

"Are you thirsty?" He asked.

"Very," she replied.

He left and came back with a glass of cold water. She looked as if she was going to sit up but hesitated. He set the glass down next to her bed and helped her sit up against the head of the bed. Next up, headboards, he thought. She leaned back against the wall as if exhausted and Chakotay handed her the glass. She sipped at it, marveling at the cool, wet feeling on her parched and scratchy throat.

"How long?" she managed to ask, her voice hoarse from dehydration and disuse.

"Almost two days," Chakotay said.

"Two days?!" she replied in shock. "No wonder I can barely sit up," she muttered to herself. She looked up at him, beseeching. "Chakotay, that was..." She didn't even know how to describe it.

"Terrible, frightening, difficult." He answered for her. "And I wasn't the one who was sick."