Chapter 12 – Let Go

"I heard that you're settled down

That you found a girl and you're married now

I heard that your dreams came true

Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you

Old friend, why are you so shy?

Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light

Nothing compares, no worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

Never mind. I'll find someone like you."

-Adele Adkins and Daniel Wilson

=/\=

"Wanna cup?" she asks genuinely.

"No thanks," he replies. It is clear from his tone that his intent for this meeting has changed. "You haven't mentioned your letter. Who was it from?"

She freezes for an instant. There it is; his curiosity has finally lead them to this moment.

She places her cup on her small table and turns, flattens her hands over her pants, unsure where she should place them. She sees he has placed his hands behind his back, assuming his supportive position; his First Officer stance. She inhales taking a long deep breath.

It was time she discussed it, and he had a right to know the troubles that plagued her mind.

"It was from Mark, the man I was engaged to," she begins. "He told me about the litter of puppies my dog had, and how he found homes for them. How devastated he was when Voyager was lost. How he held out hopes we were alive longer than most people did until he realized that he was clinging to a fantasy."

A lump starts to rise in the back of her throat and she swallows in a feeble attempt to suppress it. She begs it to diminish.

Not here. Not in front of him.

"So he began living his life again. Meeting people, letting go of the past."

And me.

She steps towards him. She continues. "About four months ago, he married a woman who works with him. He's very happy."

Was it genuine concern adorning his brow? He edges closer. He tilts his head. His lips purse. His chiseled jaw motions toward her.

Was his a concern paired with relief?

"How do you feel about that?"

"Well, I knew he'd eventually move on with his life." Her voice is barely a whisper. "But there was such a finality to that letter."

And she is completely, and utterly defenseless in front of him, for it seems a future has been created for her, and it is to be completely wrapped in loneliness.

Say something, she begs silently. Tell me I'm wrong.

"Captain to the Bridge."

=/\=

"Is this the right address, Captain Janeway?"

The house was exactly as she remembered.

It was one of the larger houses in the row. Slightly separate from the others, with a lawn that encircled it. Two stories and a basement, with white siding and an attached workshop, which Mark had planned to renovate into a greenhouse.

The front lawn was marked off with hedges and bushes of bright pink flowers. The winding stone pathway leading up to the front door was lined with rose bushes.

She closed her eyes seeing the pictures from seven years ago, recalled the excitement of picking it from a small selection. The hope that filled her as Mark and she looked to their future. To Mollie rolling on her back in the shade of the newly planted maple tree in the backyard.

She opened her eyes, and the daydream vanished; the empty promises now stripped from her memory.

"Sir?"

Janeway looked up to the front seat of the small shuttle. "Yes, Ensign. Thank you. This is will do fine here." Janeway pulled on the hatch's handle and a gust of stagnant, heated air entered the vessel.

"Just notify us when you are ready to return to Headquarters and I will come to pick you up."

"I will do just that." Janeway released the handle and the door fully opened with ease. "Oh, and Ensign?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Despite Starfleet protocol, I don't like being addressed as Sir."

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

She straightened her face, attempting to hide her smile. "Ma'am is acceptable in a crunch, but I prefer Captain."

She could see beads of sweat starting on the young Ensign's brow. She waited, leaned forward, her face stern.

"Yes, Captain."

Her smile emerged as she exited the shuttle, and she took a few steps across the road in front of the tight line of suburban homes.

She moved along the stone walkway for the first time in years, and the fragrant roses hit her senses. She remarked how expertly Mark had been keeping up with watering his garden despite the current drought.

She walked up to the front steps and ascended, and with a shaky hand, she reached forward to knock.

=/\=

The air in Holodeck 2 is a buzz with excitement from Neelix's Paxau program. Crew members chatter merrily, lifting their spirits from the recent anguish at the loss of their first communications with home.

She sees him from across the large gathering of crew members. He is watching her intently and she can feel his eyes follow her every move. Follow the glass in her hand as it reaches her lips, as she sips the cool contents. Her eyes lift from the rim of the glass. He is clearly unfazed that she is aware she is the target of his gaze.

A young Ensign catches his attention, calls to him, engages him in conversation. She pats his shoulder, a hand to his chest, and he smiles warmly, finally releasing Janeway from his watchful eye.

Janeway takes her leave, sneaks out the doors into the cool hallway of Deck 8.

But she is not far down the hallway when she hears them all too suddenly; his footsteps hurry behind her

"Leaving so soon, Captain?"

She stops and turns to see Chakotay. With arms pumping slightly, he has quickened his pace to catch up to her. A slight skip and he has reached her.

The Ensign he was with has followed him out of the Holodeck and has stopped at the doorway, peering around the door's framework to watch him walk away.

Janeway suppresses a blush, as the Ensign notices her, as she nods to her Captain.

Was it Ensign Brooks?

She stays by the door, and watches as Chakotay skips toward his Captain. Janeway sees her shoulders slump and she disappears back into the party, and as the doors close behind her, the hallway is quiet and cool once more.

"I'm sorry, Commander," she divulges. "I will have to convey my apologies to Neelix for sneaking out. I'm afraid I'm just not in the mood for partying at the moment. I think I'm just going to head back to my quarters for the longest, hottest bath of my entire existence."

He lowers his gaze and smiles. "May I walk with you?"

"Please," she motions, and they continue toward the turbolift.

The doors open as they approach, and they step together within the lift. "Deck 3," she commands.

There is distance between them, more than the physical space between them in the lift. There are words left unsaid, from a conversation so raw in her mind.

It's okay to touch me, she wants to say. You can reach out and pull me into your arms, I won't mind.

They would be safe here in this lift, away from prying eyes. She could steal a moment for herself. Give herself the comfort she desires. Feed the hunger which always seemed to burn in his eyes. Have his hands on her body, press her face against the fabric of his jacket. Offer him a sigh of relief to let him know she was okay. That she was always okay as long as she had him by her side.

But she stays silent and his hands stay still, and she exhales, lowering her head, averting her eyes from him.

"Good party," he says.

"It was," she returns.

What was it that he had said? Plenty of time. Yes, that was it.

The lift stops and they walk, and there is more silence between them as they reach her quarters. They stop outside her door.

I promise you can hold me for a moment.

She searches the hallway. No one is watching. She could reach out and invite him in. But her hands are motionless. Her mouth refuses to say the words.

"See you tomorrow over coffee?" she offers.

He smiles, and there are the dimples in his cheeks, the smile lines which beg her to cup his face, the cleft in his chin which calls for her touch. But she presses sweaty palms to her sides as the door opens to her room.

"Yes, tomorrow."

His lips tighten and press together, and she can envision them playfully pressing against her own; a tongue that is sweet and enticing.

"Sleep well, Kathryn," he offers finally.

"You too," she returns.

=/\=

With another knock, she heard footsteps behind the door, and with a beep to the door's security system, the door opened and there he stood.

Mark Johnson's eyes widened at the sight of her and his face was completely taken over with a bright smile.

With a hand still gripping the door, he tilted his head. "You're early."

"I'm sorry, I was sitting and waiting and I thought-"

He reached for her arm, pulling her into the house, and into his arms with force. His arms tightened around her, pushing a slight gasp from her throat, but she relaxed suddenly as his scent hit her.

"Never be sorry. Don't ever be sorry."

His hands moved over her back gripping at her sides, and she returned the strength of the hug, squeezing him in her arms. Slowly, the seven years of waiting faded away.

They stayed like that, locked in each other's embrace until he finally turned his head, his nose burying in her hair, his lips barely grazing the crook of her neck - his former spot. She caught his long inhale as he rested against her.

She released the strength of her grip on him. "Is your wife home?" she whispered.

He pulled from her now, aware of the intimacy of his hold on her. "She's out with the boys visiting her parents."

She opened her eyes wide, brow coming together. "I see."

He coughed nervously. "Can I show you around?"

"I've been here before," she said matter-of-factly.

"Right."

She smiled. "It was a bit more empty then."

They edged their way from the main hall and moved into the front sitting room. Family pictures hung on the wall. There was one of Mark and his wife Carla, holding a small bundle in their arms which must have been their first born, Kevin. A more recent picture beside it; Mother with a tiny Kiernan in her arms, Mark with Kevin on his lap, now a bit older, and two Irish Setters. She recognized Mollie immediately and she reached forward to touch the picture.

She turned away from the happy faces. "I'm surprised you still took the place."

Mark looked up at her slowly, reading her face. "Well it's like you said. You were here once. It was the last place I saw you. And when you were lost, I'd like to think some part of you was still here with me. Maybe I couldn't let that last part of you go."

She tilted her head. "Mark..." she trailed.

There was suddenly barking from outside the house, and they both turned in the direction of the noise.

Mark inhaled sharply, sniffing. "I was wondering when they were going to sense you were here."

She followed him through to the back of the house, to the kitchen where a large double paned, sliding, patio door was overlooking a small backyard equipped with a play structure. He opened the door and they stepped outside into the heat.

The backyard was partially shaded by the maple tree which looked much bigger to her now, clearly having had many growing seasons in the last seven years.

There was another warning bark, and a young Irish Setter, whose coat was a deep red, came bounding over to her.

"One of Mollie's litter," Mark said introducing her. "This is Céilí. Full of energy. She's a good girl."

Janeway reached down to calm the dog that was twirling at her feet. Céilí knocked into her knees, and threatened to jump.

"Céilí like a good ol' Irish party?" Janeway questioned.

"I thought you'd approve."

She nodded. "It suits her."

She looked up as another nervous bark sounded.

In the corner of the yard, under the shade of the maple tree, stood Mollie. Her tail still, her posture forced forward, she remained motionless. Her coat and face were greyer now, and Janeway watched as her nose bobbed in the air trying to get her scent.

"Hi Mollie," Janeway said lovingly, tears coming to her eyes at the sight of her dog. "Come here. It's okay. It's mum," she choked.

The dog's ears perked as a shrill bark sounded. She came bounding toward Janeway, tail wagging uncontrollably. Mollie released a few more screeches as she sat at Janeway's feet. Janeway reached down to pet Mollie, and the dog scooted in a circle, pushing into her legs until finally Janeway's legs buckled, and she came crashing down beside her dog.

Four paws were on her in an instant and the fur and tears started flying. Mollie's tongue found her face, licking ears and eyes and cheeks and nose. Janeway laughed through her tears, her heart feeling like it was going to explode through her chest.

"All right, Mollie," Mark said coming over to Janeway's rescue. "Let's let mum up."

Janeway turned to Mark as he said it, and she smiled as new tears streamed down her face. "It's okay, Mark. Leave her."

Mollie continued to press her bodyweight into Janeway. Paws pushed into her as she lay on the ground, pushing air from her lungs from the sheer force of it. She had waited years to feel this happiness. No one was going to tell her when it was to end.

Finally, Mollie calmed and sat obediently beside Janeway panting.

Her thin, navy blue blouse was covered in dried grass clippings, and as she stood, Mark reached out to brush them from her back.

"Thanks," she said awkwardly. She reached down to pet the top of Mollie's head.

"I'd say she missed you."

"I missed her."

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked.

The heat was unbearable in the backyard. She nodded, "A glass of water, please."

She followed him back into the safety of the cool house, with Mollie glued to her side, and Céilí following close behind her mother.

The kitchen was bright with a tiled backsplash of white and grey and blue, and marbled countertops. It was equipped with a replicator and stove with a large range hood. A table with six chairs sat to her right.

"When do you expect Carla back?" Janeway asked.

He handed her a glass of water. "Oh not for a little while. I'm in charge of dinner."

She sipped from her glass, and sighed slightly. "About that."

"What?"

"I can't stay." She looked up slowly. "Not tonight."

"You sure I can't change your mind?" he pleaded. "I was going to make one of my pasta dishes. You had always liked them."

"Maybe another time." She trailed a finger along the rim of the glass. "I'm sorry. Honest."

He nodded sadly.

She placed her glass down on the marbled countertop in front of her. "I'm just going to pop in your restroom."

Having used the excuse of the restroom to explore the house on her own, she climbed the stairs. She wanted to be free to explore at her leisure. Free to let her mind wander of what could have been. Free from his watchful gaze.

She stopped outside a room, and gently pushed the door until it was fully open. A crib was pushed against one wall. A change table to one side. A rocking chair nestled in the one corner. She paced forward flicked the small mobile over the crib with her finger and a soft tune played.

When they first purchased the house, plans for this room had not included a crib.

Mollie had entered suddenly, sniffed and pushed her nose into Janeway's hand. Without looking down, she pet the dog's head, scratched behind her ear, as the dog pressed her head against Janeway's leg.

"Kiernan's room," Mark said entering with Céilí.

"It's nice," she said honestly, a hint of sadness in her tone. "It was going to be my office."

"Plans had changed."

She turned, saw Mark with his head bowed.

"You let me go long before I had the chance, so it seems."

It was sadder than she had intended. She looked around the room, pushing away the tears that threatened to release.

He moved toward her. "That's not true." He took her by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug. "God, I missed you, Kath."

"Please don't." She pulled from him and wiped a tear before he could see.

"I can't say I missed you?"

"Not now. Not with all this." She motioned around the room as more tears fell.

He shook his head as his brow furrowed. "You blame me for moving on?"

She was silent. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"What was I supposed to do? Starfleet told me you were lost. I kept up hope longer than most. Then they told me you were most likely dead. It took me so long to accept it. How long was I supposed to wait?"

"Forever."

"Kath…That's not fair."

"Some would."

"You can't honestly blame me. I didn't mean for any of this."

"Right," she scoffed. "Just marry someone from work."

His face was turning red. Disgust was starting to form lines on his face. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Someone from work, she says. That's genius. Talk about double standards." He waited, but she did not counter. "What? No rebuttal? So the rumors are true."

"You broke your promise to me. That night on Taris Seti IV." Tears were falling down her cheeks. She spoke slowly, her words rumbled with emotion from the back of her throat. "You told me you would wait for me. No matter what. Stay faithful."

His voice was rising. "They told me you were dead. What was I supposed to do?" He scoffed. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Fall easily into the arms of your First Officer?"

She shook her head. "I didn't fall easily into anyone's arms. I remained steadfast. And none of it was easy." She swallowed, her emotions noticeably shaking her hands. "I had to find out about our broken engagement in a damn letter. And what's worse. You had already moved past me."

His face cooled, softening slightly. Tears were falling from his eyes. "I'm sorry, Kath. It was hard to write that. But I had no other way."

"I wanted nothing more than to tell you I was coming home. For you not to give up on me. You don't know what it was like to be lost out there. I had no way to tell you. No way to tell you I love you."

He reached forward and pulled her into his arms.

"It was heartbreaking to find out you were lost… forever," he said softly. "I had nothing to hold on to. You don't know what it was like for me. First learning of your disappearance. Starfleet not telling us anything. To them giving up. And the memorial, Kath." He pulled back to cup her face. "All those faces. All that grief. And they were looking at me like I knew what to do." He rolled his eyes. "The Captain's fiancé. Surely, he would know. But I didn't, Kath. I was lost. I didn't think I would make it. But they were looking to me for guidance. So I did. Because it's what you would have wanted me to do." His brow furrowed as he watched her face contort. His voice was a whisper. "Do you blame me for this?"

"No, I don't." Her face softened, and she offered a shaky breath. "I'm sorry. Deep down, I knew you'd eventually let me go. But part of me wished…maybe..." Her voice cracked, and she swallowed, as he wiped her tears. "I'm grieving because I never had a say in any of this. I guess I'm just trying to find where I fit now. "

He moved his hands from her face, held her shoulders gently. "And is it with this Commander of yours?"

"He seems to be the only thing I have left."

"Is he a good man, Kath?"

She smiled through her sadness. "Yes, he is."

"Good. I want you in good hands." He raised his palm to cup her cheek again. "Because I know how tough you are. How stubborn you can be." He leaned forward to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his lips touched her skin. "You'll need someone willing to take a few of your punches. Go the final round."

He took her into his arms again and squeezed her gently. But there was something final in the way he pulled from her; that she would never find safety in his arms again.

Mollie licked her hand, and she looked down and smiled at her dog. "I want to take Mollie with me."

"No."

She raised her eyes to meet his face, but he was looking down at Mollie who panted happily by her side. "I'm sorry?"

"You can't," he said firmly, and it was clear he did not want a rebuttal.

"She's my dog."

"But what about the boys." Finally, his eyes found her. His brow pushed upward. "It would break their hearts."

"But she's my dog."

"Kath…" His head tilted as he leaned to scratch the top of Mollie's head. He was clearly begging her not to continue, to not make him say the words; But she has been my dog for the last seven years. He sighed instead. "Do you think that would be fair to her?"

Janeway knew he was right, and she bent down. She rubbed Mollie's ears with a knuckle and a low rumble came from the back of the dog's throat.

As much as she hated to hear it, he was right; Mollie needed to stay with him. She needed to lie in the boys' beds at night. Needed the love of a busy family. A pair of rough and tumble boys to go on adventures with.

She needed more than just a mother pining for any resemblance of home. Mollie needed to stay.

Janeway lowered herself to her knees as Mollie enthusiastically licked her face. She swallowed the lump in her throat, blinked rapidly fighting back her tears. "Be a good girl, Moll."

The tears fell regardless, and she wiped them away, unafraid to show him her displeasure. She stood, and with it, let the remainder of her former life go.

"I better go," she said flatly, released heavily with the emotion it carried.

"You sure you won't stay for dinner?" he asked softly.

"I can't."

"Your Commander?"

"Chakotay."

"Chakotay." He repeated his name slowly, memorizing each syllable. He smiled warmly, nodding approval.

"Can I get a raincheck?" She looked down at Mollie again, who barked up at her happily. Janeway ran fingers under her eyes.

"Absolutely. And bring Chakotay with you." He reached forward, attempting to get her attention and she raised her eyes. "We want to meet him."

She smiled tight lipped and nodded.

They headed down the stairs, toward the front door and as he opened it, a rumble emitted from the sky. A few clouds had formed.

"You know, after all this time. They're actually calling for rain."

=/\=

"Sleep well?" he asks as he pours her first cup of the morning.

"A few hours." She lowers heavily to her Ready Room couch.

She looks at him, and there is concern in his eyes. "You should take the day," he offers. "Astrometrics promises a slow journey for the next few days. Go get some rest."

"No, I need to work. There are reports to look over."

"Reports can wait." He hands her her cup and she sips. He sighs, eyes moving across her face.

"I'm fine, Chakotay. Really. I don't need your pity."

He takes a moment, tilts his head. "I'm not pitying you. I'm just a concerned friend."

She smiles slightly. Releases a tiny breath.

Friend.

"Still," she sips again, swallowing slowly. "This isn't the first time I've been dumped."

His brow comes together. "This is more than that, isn't it? You didn't have much of a say in it, did you?"

"No," she pauses, yawns. "I suppose not."

"And you probably thought you'd spend the rest of your life with this man?"

"I did." She narrows her eyes playfully. "Is this supposed to be helping me?"

He laughs, and lowers his eyes to the cup in his hands. She watches his smile, a smile he can't hide from her. "I just want you to be honest with yourself, and what you want."

Visions of his lips locked with hers. Of his hands in her hair. "Believe me, I am." She smiles. "Plenty of time?"

"Yes, you have plenty of time."

She leans backward, cup gripped in one hand. Slowly, her other hand lowers to the space on the couch between them, palm upward.

Take my hand, she begs behind closed eyes. Entwine your fingers with mine as you once did on New Earth, which seemed like a lifetime ago. What I wouldn't give to have your hand in mine. To feel feather touch across my palm.

Don't make me make the first move, she prays silently. Do it so I won't have to choose between you and this uniform. Because I could never turn you away.

But only air touches her palm. There are no lips to graze her own.

She feels the heaviness of sleep begin to envelop her, and the cup leaves her hand and is placed gently on her table.

Warm hands are guiding her to rest. Her head carefully places on a pillow. A blanket slowly drapes across over her. She wants to reach up for him, to give him thanks, but her body is heavy, and her eyes remain closed.

There is a light touch to her shoulder, a ghosted touch to her hair.

And she drifts, falls deeply into the darkness of a heavy sleep.

=/\=

It was around 1900 hours when the clouds had started to roll into San Francisco, and for the first time in a long time, the sun's rays were barricaded, unable to shine through the vast expanse of clouds.

And it was hours later when Janeway left her solitude, and walked down the long winding pathway between the rows of tightly packed units.

A wind was beginning to roll in from the Bay. An icy chill was starting to invade, pushing out the stagnant, heated air that had taken up residence in the city for far too long.

She looked up to focus on an area of the clouds, watched as they moved quickly along in shades of greys and blues and whites. A few people walked hurriedly to get to safety. Many of her crew had emerged from their units to look up at the sky. Smiles starting to spread to their faces. They waved happily to their Captain, and she smiled, returning the friendly gestures.

Rain, they might actually get rain.

She stopped on the pathway, looking up to watch the display above her. She marveled at the mixing of the clouds, at how fierce they looked. How quickly they moved along, bringing new portions of clouds, new colors of deepened greys and intense blues.

A light turned on above the doorway of the unit to her right as the door opened. Footsteps fell gently on the path she stood on.

She turned slowly, met the eyes she had been missing for far too long. He smiled and instantly her heart expanded to tighten within the confines of her chest.

There you are, she thought happily.

He edged beside her and reached out to take her hand. "In the middle of the journey of our life, I found myself astray in a dark wood, where the straight road had been lost."

She smiled as he repeated Dante's lines to her. They were from a time long ago when their relationship was new to her. A time when she had asked him if there was a future for them, and just how close they would get.

Let's just say there are some barriers we never cross.

She smiled remembering his dejected face in the glow of the warp core, and the sadness that filled her as she shook his hand, knowing her future self would never take a chance on a life with him by her side in more than just command.

She smiled as she looked up at him, happy she was wrong – so very wrong.

"I'm not lost. Not any more." She moved her hands upward to wrap them around his neck, pulling herself in line with his body. His hands found her waist.

There was a loud crack and a rumble emitted from the clouds overhead. Their sights turned upward, and they watched as the clouds darkened. As the lights along the pathway turned on sensing the impending darkness.

He reached up to brush the hair from her face as it started to swirl, played with by the wind. "No matter what happens, we'll make it," he said softly.

A drop of rain hit her face and she looked up at him as one hit his brow. She closed her eyes as more rain fell and the skies opened above them.

His lips found hers and they danced with tongue as the rain quickened, as it fell over her hair and skin, clinging their clothes to their bodies as hands moved, taking each other in with seduction.

She had missed his lips, his hands, his skin, the way the light stubble on his chin grazed her cheek, her neck, as he moved along her jaw line, as he rested against the crook of her neck which now belonged to him.

There was another crack above them and the clouds illuminated with a bright light. He pulled from her neck and they looked up as the sky opened and the rain came pouring down upon them. He took her hand and they ran to the safety of the alcove above his unit's door.

They watched the path in front of them flood with water. Watched as the wind picked up and played furiously. The rain began to dance in circles. There was another crack, another flash of light, and she reached out for him, taking his hand. He pulled her in tightly beside him.

Her clothes clung to her body, her hair was matted to her face, and he reached up to push it from her cheeks, from her brow. He leaned forward, kissed her softly, but she refused his gentleness, and instead pushed her tongue into his mouth, guiding him as she quickened the kiss.

"I want your hands on me," she breathed against his mouth, as teeth met awkwardly, as the hunger in her grew.

His hand pulled at her shirt, found the cool, wet skin at the small of her back. "Done."

"But promise me something?" she begged heatedly.

"What's that?"

"That you won't be gentle."

- Céilí or Cèilidh is a traditional Irish or Scottish social gathering. In its most basic form, it simply means a social visit.

(Scottish Gaelic pronunciation: [ˈkʲʰeːlɪ]) or céilí (Irish pronunciation: [ˈceːlʲiː]) (phonetically: kay-lee or kei-lee)

Coming Soon: Chapter 13 - "I Miss You" - Adele