A/N: Thank you, Hazmatt, for your continued support. It means a lot to me to know that something that I've put so much time and effort into amuses someone other than myself. It's also a very good reminder for me to update regularly, because time seems to go by so fast these days!

Chapter 11

The path to the Maquis ship is easy to find. It's wide enough that we could carry a stretcher through it in the dark after all. The vessel itself reminds me of a beehive. There are people buzzing around it, talking or working on repairs. There are even people clamouring over the hull to work on bits you can usually only reach with an environmental suit. Chakotay, however, isn't among them. No one stops me as I go in. I've learned to navigate my way around by now, especially to the places Chakotay and I helped repair. He isn't in any of them. Perhaps he's in his quarters, but I don't know where those are. He always came to Mora's to pick me up.

I realise that I'm not going to find him. Of course, I could help one of the dozen other Maquis I've seen so far. But I don't want to. Not knowing where Chakotay is leaves me feeling unsettled. His presence has been a constant the past few days, familiar in a strange world.

I roam through the ship for a while before I give up and go back to Kimmy's to wait for the doctor.

The doctor finally shows up not long after I get back. He's human, with the same colouring as Kimmy and Chakotay. Almost all of the people here are. Mora is with him, as is the Maquis nurse who healed my wrist. They bring along a lot of equipment, though most of it appears to be no larger than a tricorder. There's no diagnostic bed like in a Federation facility.

The doctor runs a few different devices over the Captain, some I recognize as medical scanners, others I don't. It doesn't take very long, perhaps half an hour. Every now and then the doctor exchanges a few words with Mora and the nurse, but they're in a language I don't understand. Then they pack up. I wait for an explanation, but the doctor and nurse just pass me with a smile. Only Mora stays.

'We've run a bunch of different scans. We'll have to run them through the computer. We'll probably be back tomorrow morning with the first results.' Then she smiles and leaves with the others.

I hardly sleep at all. I toss and turn all night. When the first light of dawn breaks, I give up and get up. My eyes feel dry and tired and my head is heavy. I wash up and change slowly. Kimmy doesn't appear to be up yet, so I sneak outside to watch the sunrise. It's beautiful, but after a while the light makes my head pound, so I go back in. Kimmy is in the kitchen, making breakfast. I take a seat at the table, dozing a little and hoping that my headache will recede.

Breakfast helps a little. The food is wonderful, far better than on a the Maquis ship. About halfway through Chakotay joins us. I only half notice that he brings along a big pot until he pours a mug and puts it in front of me. The delicious aroma of coffee jolts me into action. I grab the mug and take a large whiff of the wonderful liquid. 'Thank you!' I savour the sweet beverage as Kimmy and Chakotay converse. Instead of waking me up, the coffee helps me to relax enough that my headache starts receding. I'm dozing, thinking of going back to bed and catching a few more minutes of sleep when there's a knock on the front door. I shoot up, but then hesitate. Kimmy goes to open the door. Just like yesterday, the doctor, nurse and Mora pour in. I feel myself getting jittery and am vaguely aware of Chakotay coming to stand next to me. But they merely exchange a few words of greeting before walking through to the bedroom in the back. I rush after them only to come to an abrupt halt in the doorway. Once again, they're hovering over the Captain's bed and Meyer is taking out more tools. Are they going to fix him right now? My rush of hope abruptly crashes back down when Mora comes over and in a soothing voice explains to me that they need to run a few more scans. I… I don't know what to do. I can't stand any more waiting. But what choice do I have?

'Perhaps you'd better take a seat,' Mora suggests. I don't resist when a strong arm comes around my shoulders and leads me back to the kitchen table. I let myself get gently pushed into a chair. Chakotay's arm vanishes, but he stays close and takes the seat next to mine. I appreciate his protective presence, but I'm not in any state to talk. Neither is he, apparently, so we wait in silence.

After what seems like forever, footsteps return and the doctor takes a seat across from me. He start to explain to me in halting standard what their scans have discovered, but I'm too rung out to appreciate the long explanation and I have trouble focussing on his words. I just want to know that they'll fix it. That they'll fix the Captain. The longer his explanation takes, the more anxious I become. I want to tell him to get to the point, but can't muster the energy. Finally he falls silent and I realise I haven't been looking at him but at the table when my eyes snap back. Nor have I heard a word he said.

He's looking at me silently, expectantly. The silent lingers for an uncomfortable moment until I realise he's waiting for my reaction. I clear my throat, looking for a response. The only words that come are those that have been haunting my mind for the past few hours. 'When will he wake up?'

The doctor's expression changes and I realise it's pity I see there. Suddenly I hate the very sight of him.

'I'm sorry, miss Johnson, but we as I explained, we do not have the… facilities to cure your father. The injuries to his mind are too…' he hesitates, clearly looking for a word he doesn't know. I stare at him, furiously, as he thinks. '-Many,' he finally finishes lamely and I want to hurt him. For his poor language skills, for his pity, but most of all for failing the Captain.

'Well what use are you then?' I demand heatedly, as I push myself away from the table and stand up. I don't care that my chair nearly falls over. They're all looking at me with that same look of pity, the doctor, nurse, Mora, even Kimmy. The only expression I can't see is Chakotay's, because he's also standing – when did he get up? – and if I look up I might cry. I rush out the front door before my tears can win and I humiliate myself further. I don't slam the door, but only because the moment I get outside I hesitate because I have no idea where I can go. I want to be alone, I think, but by rushing out of the house I've put myself right in the middle of the settlement.

I hear the door creaking slightly and I know who it is before I feel his warm hands on my shoulders. 'Katie,' he says, in a tone that caring but not pitiful. It almost makes me break down and I don't want to, so instead I lash out at him.

'And you!' I shout, turning to face him. 'You said they'd be able to heal him here! That everything would be fine! That-' he said no such things, but I don't care. I don't care!

I'm not even sure what else I screamed at him, but I yell until I'm spent. He just looks at me until, apparently, he's decided I'm done.

'Come with me,' he says, not unkindly, before grabbing my hand, turning around and setting off and dragging me behind him.

I look at his back, stunned, but follow. When he realises I'm doing as told he releases my hand without looking around. I fell awfully small without it, but continue on. Meanwhile my mind is racing. After my outburst, I expected him to yell back or storm off. To show me some fire. Anything but this. But then, I've never seen him angry or violent, except in his sleep. He's always in control. How does a man like that join the Maquis? Could he be… an informer? A Starfleet infiltrator?

No. As soon as the thought enters my mind I dismiss it. He couldn't be. And he's not the only one who's shown me kindness. Mora has been wonderful. And Kimmy who opened her home to us. The doctor and nurses have been nice enough. They can't all be Starfleet or the Maquis would have been history months ago. And they never would have rescued me…

More confused than ever, I follow him. He marches through the settlement determinedly, I almost have to run to keep up with his long strides, and without hesitation walks straight into the surrounding jungle. He doesn't say a word as he expertly makes his way through the plant life. He seems to know where he's going. I don't have a lot of breath for talking and I'm too busy dodging through the flora so I follow in silence. Where are we going?

Following after Chakotay keeps me busy – and is it me or is the ground rising? – but when more than fifteen minutes have passed without a word my patience runs out. I try to speed up to catch up with Chakotay, but end up tripping over a root or some such, barely manage to keep myself upright and hunch over, trying to catch my breath. 'Wait!' is the best I can gasp out. I guess I should have taken Nimembeh's classes more serious…

Chakotay stops and turns around, an infuriating smirk on his face. I'm too busy gulping in breath to do more than raise an angry eyebrow at him. 'Where are we going?' I finally inquire, with perhaps a bit more bite than is warranted. Chakotay merely smirks at my tone and takes my use of a full sentence as a sign to continue.

'You'll have to come along to find out,' he calls back over his shoulder and I curse him soundly before following. As we walk, I feel my anger slowly fading.

About ten more minutes pass before I realise that we are climbing. The absurdity of the situation hits me. Here I am, on an unfamiliar planet, presumably in the Demilitarized Zone, following a self-proclaimed terrorist into the wilderness. Of my own free will! If someone had told me this six months ago, I would have laughed them out of the room. Still, the designation 'terrorist' for Chakotay gnaws at me, even in my own thoughts. After all he's done for me, he doesn't deserve the moniker. Then again, I don't know all that he's done. I've known him less than two weeks. For all I know, before we met, he'd been spending his time blowing up Starfleet and Cardassian settlements at random. That doesn't fit with the man I know though. But what about the man who went into a Cardassian camp and killed or at the very least wounded Cardassians in close combat, judging by the dried blood on his clothes afterwards? And saved I don't know how many people in the process? My mind seesaws wildly from one extreme to the other, unable to find a balance. As much as I try, I can't reconcile the violent Maquis Starfleet propagates with the man I've come to know. The man I trust enough to follow into the unknown…

'Katie, wait!' Chakotay's arms around my waist stop me and pull me out of my own thoughts. I'm on a cliff, and if Chakotay hadn't stopped me, I would have walked right off it, so deeply immersed was I in thought. I feel my cheeks heat up and know I must be blushing furiously. Apparently, I would have followed Chakotay right off a cliff…

His worried eyes stare at me intensely. 'Katie, are you alright?'

I smile sheepishly. 'My father used to joke I could be so deep in thought, one of these days I'd walk right into a stream. I guess he was right…'

My self-deprecating words bring a brief smile to his face and he releases me, but then he becomes serious again. 'I know you're worried about him, Katie. I wish there was more we could do for him.' He looks so earnest. Here I've been silently labelling him a terrorist, when he and his comrades are doing everything they can to heal my pretend father from the wounds our so-called allies have inflicted upon him. I am ashamed of my own culpability, and look away so he won't see the guilt in my eyes. I swear to myself then that if we ever make it back home, I won't do anything to help Starfleet hunt the Maquis down. They deserve at least that much. Only then can I look Chakotay in the eye.

As I glance back up, I note his worried frown and his kind eyes. I realise that in the short time we've know each other, Chakotay has become very dear to me. For one brief moment, I allow myself to abandon all pretence and guile and sincerely say 'thank you, Chakotay, for saving my life and everything after that.' I've never meant anything more.

Chakotay's face splits into a wonderful smile that lifts the perpetual shadows from his face and brings a crinkle to his eyes. 'You're welcome, Katie,' he says warmly.

I smile back, and we stare at each other until the moment moves from comfortable to awkward. I quickly look away. The view in front of me is a welcome distraction. I feel my breath catch as I look past the cliff and into the valley below. It is breath-taking. Sheer stone cliffs framed and partly overrun by trees and wildlife.

'Chakotay, it's beautiful,' I whisper. It reminds me of one of the nature preserves my parents took me hiking in as a child: Yosemite. There are trees standing no more than a meter away from us, right up to the cliff. That's probably why I didn't notice the drop. They have little white buds in them. I take a few steps to the closest and reach up for a blossom. It has already opened slightly, about to flower. It reminds me of a small rose and I smile.

'Boothby would love these,' I say without thinking.

'Boothby?' Chakotay echoes.

'The groundskeeper at my old school. He used to bring me flowers for my room.' I stroke the soft petals, trying to imagine what it will look like fully blooming.

After a few moments I realise Chakotay's body language has changed. The earlier feeling of camaraderie is abruptly gone, and I feel the tension rolling off him. I'm about to look up when he says, 'You're Starfleet.' Gone is the warmth in his voice. My eyes snap back to his quickly enough to see them change from shock to pain and – just as quickly – to anger.

How can I have been so careless? But I hadn't even thought about it, because the only people who know Boothby are other Starfleet officers. So many little things fall into place. His posture. He often stands with his hands clasped behind his back and his feet set apart. The classic at ease pose. Even the hold he'd restrained me with back in the Cardassian camp was straight out of the Starfleet manual. Is that why he feels so familiar? Perhaps he really is a Starfleet infiltrant… 'You're Starfleet,' I whisper, hope surging through me.

'I was.' My eyes have been running over his body, looking for anything familiar, anything Starfleet. At his words, which are practically growled, they shoot back up to his face. There is hatred etched in every line. His eyes are blazing with it so fiercely that I have to stop myself from taking a step back. He looks at me as if I'm the enemy. For the first time since he rescued me from that prison cell, I worry that he'll hurt me. There is a cliff just behind me…