His head was spinning endlessly and within seconds his stomach had joined in the merry-go-round of misery leaving him nauseous and numb. Without a moment to collect himself, he blinked and was back on the ship where he had been all those hours ago. The tears he had let fall were suddenly dry. All had returned to how it was, and then she turned around and smiled. His heart dropped, realizing he would have to watch it all again. He couldn't bear the thought, and not wanting to let another minute go by, he walked over to her. He gently touched her arm to grab her attention and looking deep in her eyes, pleaded with her to recognize him.

"Excuse me, may I help you? Are you lost, sir?" she asked politely, but still assuming a position she could easily defend herself from. She was apprehensive, and he didn't blame her. To her, he was a sad-looking stranger, desperate for something that she couldn't know.

"Kathryn," he whispered, the pain of the situation causing his voice to break.

"Do I know you?" she asked, confused.

"Yes...yes you know me. I need you to remember," he tried to keep his composure but every time he blinked he saw her lying on the icy cold, bleeding and broken. Every moment of silence was occupied by her screams of pain, her voice calling out, wishing for death.

Her sweet, albeit confused and testy, tone called him back to the present with a startle.

"I'm sorry, I'm not following…I know you, but...I don't remember? Perhaps I should call for some help, you don't look well."

She went to tap her communicator but he grabbed her hand to stop her.

"NO! You're Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway...you love dogs, you like to paint, but you never show your work, you...love coffee and brownies, caramel brownies that your mother makes, they're your favorite. You love roses and poetry, you…you wish you learned to play an instrument because you love music, but you can never find the time," he rambled.

Her eyes were wide with shock, and then with a flash of anger, she poked him hard in the chest and got close to his face to intimidate him.

"What the hell are you, some sort of stalker? Are you after me, after my father? Who are you-"

He stopped her yelling with a gentle hand to move her hair behind her ear. At first, he thought she'd punch him or call for help, but the moment his fingertips met with the soft skin of her cheek, her eyes closed and she released a shuttered breath.

She leaned into his hand and lifted her own to cover it. With a soft sigh she whispered: "Chak-" but before she could finish, Justin came over and pulled her away from the romantic embrace.

"Kathryn, who the hell is this?" he asked, looking Chakotay up and down, palpable anger in his glare.

"Uhh, I don't...I don't know," she stammered, uncharacteristically. Chakotay looked over and saw her words were true. Any momentary recognition she may have had was now gone.

Justin took a deep breath to try and reigned himself in, his fists balled and ready for a fight, but he managed to step back and focus on Kathryn.

"We'll talk about this later, we need to go meet your father," he said harshly.

She nodded silently and walked down the hall with him.

He watched as the last bit of hope he had clutched to turned to dust.

"Clever…but she isn't going to wake up," a familiar and chilling voice whispered into his ear.

He took a deep breath, gathering all his sadness, his confusion, his brokenness, and channeling it into his anger. He turned around and pushed her up against the wall, his arm against her throat, she gasped and wheezed, struggling for air.

"Stop this! Let us out!" He yelled.

Her fear and gasps turned to hysterical laughter, still choked by his arm. She lifted her hand and with a simple wave, he was tossed to the other side of the ship.

With a few coughs, she was back to normal and still chuckling.

"You are something…feisty, I love it."

He stood up from the ground and shook off the pain of having the wind knocked out of him.

"Did you really think that would work? You can try to hurt me, but I'm more powerful. Even if you succeed in killing me in here, I'll just come back," she said.

She walked over to him and punched him in the stomach, causing him to bend over and cough.

"Come now, wouldn't want you to miss all the fun," she said with a smile.

She snapped her fingers and in a single second, he was aboard the Terra Nova. It was happening faster this time around, they were already experiencing turbulence.

He watched, numb and empty, as it happened all over again, Justin forced her into the shuttle and then he reappeared on the icy planet, helplessly watching her crawl using broken arms, forced to watch as she lost those she loved, her unborn child, and finally herself.

As she gave in to the temptations of unconsciousness, he returned to the hospital where he stood in front of her bed. Mara stood on the other side of the room and gave him a knowing look.

"Go on, tell her Chakotay. Don't try to resist, you know it won't work," she came up behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"No," He looked down at the tray next to Kathryn's bed. On it rested a scalpel. He grabbed it and turned around. Before Mara could react, he plunged the sharp object into the side of her neck and ran, hearing the sound of her choking on her own blood as he exited the room.

He frantically looked down the hall, doors on either side as far as his eyes could see. He remembered how he exited his vision quest. He walked down the hall and began to frantically open every door. Most led to nothing, abounding darkness, and silence. By the time he reached the fifth door, he read the number 520, Kathryn's birthday, and with utmost certainty, he knew this was the way out.

He reached for the doorknob and opened the door. As soon as he did so, an ugly cry of anger rang in his ears.

"No!" She yelled.

He threw the door open and walked in, closing it behind him.

Looking around he didn't recognize his surroundings, golden wood floors and a large window with flowing white curtains. The walls were pale pink and a small bed with matching sheets rested against the wall. He heard sniffling coming from behind him and turned around to see a curly-haired little girl sitting at a child's play-table. She was trying hard to focus on her coloring book, but distant shouts of anger distracted her, as did the tears falling onto the pages. She was no more than five years old, he couldn't see her face, but something about her was so familiar.

"Excuse me," he said softly, walking over to the small girl.

She sniffled and looked up, and in doing so, caused Chakotay to gasp.

He kneeled and looked in her eyes which were overflowing with tears.

"B'Elanna?" He asked.

She shook her head.

"I don't like that name. Call me Bella. I want to be called Bella," she said firmly, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Alright…Bella. May I ask what's wrong?"

"No, but I can ask you who you are and why you're in my house," she stood up and got in his face.

He chuckled at the young girl's attitude, some things never change.

"I'm a friend," he said, waiting for her to argue, but she looked into his eyes somehow knew she could trust him.

Looking at him curiously, she sat down defeated. She glanced down again before answering his previous question.

"My parents are downstairs fighting. My daddy is leaving," she said sadly.

"I'm sure he'll be back—"

"No!" She shouted.

"He's leaving forever. He doesn't love me, because I'm too much like a Klingon,"

"Bella, I'm sure he loves you. He's just confused,"

"No. He hates me because... sometimes I get angry. But…I can't help it, I just get so mad and…and he hates my ridges. I do too, they're ugly."

"Bella that's not true. You're a beautiful little girl, and anyone who can't see that is a big dummy,"

She smiled slightly at his remark.

"Then why doesn't he want me? Why does he have to leave?" She asked, her voice breaking.

"Sometimes, grownups do stupid things, because, like children, we get scared too, and we don't always make the best choices. Your father loves you, but he's just too concerned with what other people think to actually do what's right. I promise you that you'll have your mother, and you'll have friends who will become like family. You'll be ok,"

"But I don't have any friends. The kids at school think I'm weird,"

"Maybe right now, but you will have friends B'Elanna,"

"Bella!" she shouted.

"Bella, sorry,"

"I'll never have friends…not when these get in the way," she said pointing towards her forehead.

He was about to protest but a distant shouting caught his attention.

"B'Elanna! I need to discuss something with you!" Miral shouted.

Chakotay looked to B'Elanna and held his pointer finger to his lips as he backed into the closet to hide from her mother. He knew he wouldn't be able to explain himself to Miral.

Miral walked in the room, still furious.

"B'Elanna—"

"Bella," she said forcefully.

"No, my daughter is named B'Elanna and that's what I will call her. I don't understand why you insist upon changing your name. It is a strong name. The name of a warrior,"

"I don't want to be a warrior! I just want to be normal," she shouted.

"I am not to raise a 'normal' daughter. I intend to raise a brave and fierce young fighter,"

"This is why dad doesn't want to be here! He wants me to be normal, but you won't let me so he left!"

"You weren't meant to overhear,"

"Well, I did. And if I weren't Klingon daddy would stay. He would love me,"

"B'Elanna look at me. Your father left because he is weak. We don't need him, we're strong enough to—"

B'elanna shook her head and began crying. She covered her ears, not wanting to hear any more of what her mother had to say.

"Get out," she yelled.

"Excuse me?" her mother said angrily.

"I said get out. Dad doesn't like Klingons and I don't either so get out! I hate being a Klingon. I wish I had a human mother!"

Her mother stood, trying to conceal her hurt, and walked towards the door.

"Fine, I'll have dinner ready within the hour. Perhaps by then you'll have calmed down and we can talk about this more," she walked out and shut the door.

B'Elanna began crying in harsh gulps. She grabbed the safety scissors out of her pencil box and ran to the mirror which hung over her bureau. Tears in her eyes, she grabbed a chunk of hair in the front of her face and began cutting. Uneven pieces splayed across her forehead in a sloppy heap, but they managed to cover her ridges, so she looked at herself seriously and willed the tears away. She walked over to the closet and opened the door.

A broken-hearted Chakotay took in the girls appearance and bent down to wipe the remnants of her tears.

She reached around him and grabbed a bag. Running from him, she went over to her drawers and began tossing clothes in the bag.

"Bella what are you doing?"

"I want to go with my daddy,"

"Bella…" he warned.

"I can't stay with her," she cried.

She walked over to the window and tossed her bag out.

"Bella, that's too far a drop, you're on the second floor you could get hurt," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"How about I grab some tissues and you and I can talk a little more?" he suggested.

She nodded as tears began to flood her eyes once more. He turned away to grab tissues from her nightstand, but as soon as he did, she leaped onto the windowsill. He turned around but it was too late.

"B'Elanna don't" he shouted as she leaped down.

He ran to the window to see her lying on the ground, screaming and writhing in pain. She was clutching her right arm which he could see the bone protruding from at a grotesque angle. Miral came running out shouting in Klingon. He watched as the broken little girl was carried off by her mother. A few tears of his own fell for the poor girl he'd one day know as his best friend.

"Did you really think you could hide from me?" He turned around quickly, but before he could take another breath, his face was met with the full force of a fist.

"That was for stabbing me, and in the neck no less. What a fucking mess."

She grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him towards another door.

"Now what am I going to do with you?"