The Gift
by Joan Powers
Summary: When an away mission goes badly on Christmas Day, Chakotay questions his beliefs. Mention of C/7, Janeway/Chakotay
Timeline: Season 7
Rating: K+
A/N: While I was in the airport, returning home after a funeral for a loved one, I got the urge to write an uplifting Christmas fanfic. Most of this story came to me during my flight. It was partially inspired by a 9/11 account that I heard during a church sermon, one year after the tragedy occurred. I'm not a crier, especially not a public one. However, that day, I'm embarrassed to say I was a blubbering mess.
Thanks as always to my fabulous betas, SuzJ1 and Tracy who have shared their own impressive inspirational stories with me.
Chakotay bit the inside of his lip, trying to restrain himself. Once again, Kathryn had formulated a potentially risky plan that wasn't absolutely necessary. Taking a calming breath, he tried to think of the most diplomatic way to approach this. Pausing by the couch in her ready room, he asked, "Why do you feel the need to replenish gallicite? We've got enough to last at least a year and a half."
Several feet away, standing near her desk, Kathryn said, "Chakotay, you of all people know that there are no guarantees that we'll get another opportunity like this. The scans are positive for gallicite, which is a somewhat rare commodity. The planet is uninhabited so we won't have to negotiate with natives. It's a golden opportunity. I don't understand why you're not jumping at this."
He reminded her. "Our scans also indicate the potential for unusual atmospheric phenomena and seismic activity. This bothers me. Landing a shuttle could be hazardous. Communication could also be an issue. Down in those caverns, an away team could also be highly vulnerable."
"You're overreacting. Atmospheric scans are looking clear right now. And our instruments should detect any storm fronts or seismic activity building up long before it becomes dangerous, giving us the chance to evacuate in plenty of time." Jutting out her chin with grim determination, she stated. "I'll even lead the team myself."
He sighed, knowing she'd say that. Despite his best efforts over the years to take care of her, she continually shrugged off his suggestions. Existing on coffee, inadequate meals and limited sleep, had not improved her disposition.
He didn't filter his reply. "That's foolish." He didn't need to glance towards her to register her scornful expression. "Preliminary planetary data isn't sufficient to accurately predict such events. And is obtaining some mineral that we don't urgently need worth the risk of potential injuries?"
The changes he'd seen in Kathryn bothered him. Over the years she'd become harsher, more and more willing to take dangerous risks that could impact the crew negatively if they didn't work out.
"That's just it, Chakotay." She insisted. "Potential injuries. Risks are part of life. Since when have you become so conservative?"
It had become a familiar complaint. Though she never would've bought it if he'd used that argument against her when it came to taking chances with her personal life.
He took a moment to think. Maybe he was being overly cautious. Maybe his reaction had been more emotional, based on his displeasure with her previous decisions that were admittedly far riskier.
Still, something didn't feel right.
She insisted. "I'll lead the away team."
"No, you won't." He firmly stated. At least he could protect her from this.
She stared at him, grimacing slightly as if offended by his aggressive tone.
He wasn't intimidated. "You're the Captain. You need to be with the ship and the crew. If you're insisting on this plan, I will lead the away team."
She paused. "Fine. But do it tomorrow."
"Why the rush? We ought to orbit and collect additional planetary data so we can make more accurate predictions. Maybe even locate other resources. A few days ought to be sufficient. Besides, the ship's Christmas celebration is tomorrow." He reminded her.
Not that he celebrated the holiday. Yet, over the previous years on Voyager, Kathryn had gone out of her way to create a holiday celebration for the crew. It was a day to enjoy a special meal, exchange small gifts, celebrate friendships and enjoy fellowship. They all looked forward to it.
He was surprised that she hadn't taken that into account. In the past, this celebration had meant a lot to her.
"I want to be out of this region of space before the D'nue return."
Before he could argue that their imminent return wasn't highly likely, she said, with finality, "The preliminary data ought to be sufficient. The deposits should be relatively easy to find. You'll be back before the holodeck party starts."
She turned to sit at her desk, focusing on a PADD before her, summarily dismissing him.
XXXX
"An angel?" Tom raised a skeptical eyebrow. Grinning with amusement, he said, "C'mon. There's gotta be a more scientifically plausible explanation for what happened."
A group was gathered in the Mess Hall, seated about a long table. Neelix and the Delaney sisters had already strewn decorations about the room. Synthetic pine boughs and strings of shiny glass beads adorned the walls. White paper snowflakes and small red ornaments hung from the ceiling, creating a festive atmosphere.
Somehow the discussion of the upcoming Christmas celebration with a special brunch, secret Santa gifts, and a holodeck party had segued into the so-called magic of the season and hotly contested Christmas miracles.
Jenny Delaney, who had just shared the story of her father being helped by a kind stranger in the middle of nowhere, averted her eyes and blushed deeply.
Sensing her embarrassment, Chakotay rose from an adjacent table and approached the group. He said, "Don't dismiss her explanation just because you can't understand it. Don't you believe there are forces in the universe that are beyond our comprehension?"
"Maybe. But eventually, once we analyze them, we'll understand them." Tom assured him. "Next you're going to tell me that you believe in an afterlife." He half-joked.
Rising from the table where she'd been seated with Chakotay, Seven joined the group and said, "It is foolish to indulge in such nonsensical beliefs that are only manufactured to pacify the weak."
Chakotay frowned. "What's wrong with believing in an afterlife? Many cultures do. And that doesn't necessarily mean that they're not intelligent or enlightened people."
While Chakotay had been dismissive of his own culture's spiritual beliefs as a youth, he'd finally reached a point of acceptance. He was aware that there were forces in the universe that he would never fully understand.
"I agree." Neelix firmly stated, hovering near the edge of the group.
"You do?" Tom's widened eyes conveyed his surprise. "I thought your near-death experience a few years ago changed your mind."
"It's true. I had my doubts."
Seventeen hours after his death, Neelix had been revived and brought back to life through the use of Borg nanoprobes. He'd been crushed that he hadn't seen the Great Forest or all of his ancestors gathered there to greet him, according to his cultural teachings. When Chakotay assisted him on a vision quest to explore what might have happened to him during that time, it seemed to indicate that his beliefs had been based on lies.
Neelix explained. "Once Chakotay helped me interpret my vision quest, I realized that it only represented my fears. It's entirely possible that when I was brought back to life, I would have no memory of my existence on that other plane."
"Isn't that convenient." Tom said, with a touch of sarcasm.
"Ultimately, I have a choice. And I chose to believe in the afterlife described by my people," Neelix said.
Sensing Neelix was firm in his convictions, Tom sought to stir up other controversy. Turning back towards the others, he asked, "So, are these mystical helpful creatures angels or spirits? They don't sound the same to me. Which is it?" The corner of his mouth quirked with amusement.
Sometimes Paris irked the hell out of Chakotay.
"Why can't it be both? Why can't different people understand the same phenomenon differently?" Chakotay replied, his temper becoming shorter. "And getting back to earlier in your conversation, why would these types of events be limited only to specific seasons of the year? Why should miracles only happen at Christmas time? Especially since many cultures don't observe that holiday. What makes those spiritual beliefs more important than other traditions?"
"Frankly Chakotay, Christmas is mostly a social holiday to celebrate family and friends rather than one of deep spiritual significance," Tom said.
"That's your opinion. You guys are spoiling everything!" Jenny Delaney complained.
"Speaking of spoiling the fun," Chakotay said. He was about to break the news to those he'd selected for his away team that they'd be missing most of the celebration tomorrow.
XXX
He should've trusted his instincts about the away mission.
The first thing he noticed when he regained consciousness, was that he was surrounded by complete darkness. One moment he'd been walking in the dimly lit cavern, flashlight and scanner in hand. And the next, he was pinned beneath heavy rocks.
His voice croaked. "Chakotay to Voyager. Chakotay to Voyager."
Either his combadge was damaged or there was too much interference with the signal.
Any effort to move sent excruciating pain radiating throughout his body. The throbbing in his head made it difficult to think clearly. His breathing was loud and labored. His right leg was trapped beneath some rubble, bent at an unnatural angle.
"Anybody there?" he shouted as best he could.
He hoped no one else from the away team had been trapped by the unexpected tremors which caused some of the tunnels to collapse. It bothered him that he couldn't remember any of their names. Or faces.
He started to laugh ruefully, but the effort created agony in his chest, resulting in an equally painful coughing fit. Of course, there'd been a cave-in. Hadn't he been arguing about that possibility with Kathryn last night?
Though right now, lying in a cold, dank cavern, covered with rocks and debris, he'd much rather have been wrong.
Unfortunately, this seemed to be how his life was going lately. Rather than growing closer, he and Kathryn were slowly drifting apart. From the way she kept pushing him away, he wondered if she was even interested in his friendship anymore.
The peace he'd felt being by her side had been slowly slipping away. He tried not to dwell on it, knowing it would only feed into his growing restlessness and frustration.
He didn't understand. He thought the spirits had brought him to Voyager for a reason. For her. To watch out for her. To love her and protect her. To help her accomplish her mission.
And now that notion seemed utterly ridiculous. She didn't need him. She refused most of his efforts to assist her and was no longer listening to his counsel. In fact, she seemed hell bent on destroying herself.
What was the point? What was his purpose other than serving as Janeway's occasional whipping boy?
They'd been in the Delta Quadrant for almost seven years. He was lonely. He was tired of pining after a woman who could never give him the love he craved. He couldn't live like this any longer, he was ready to settle down. To have a personal life.
When Seven invited him on a date, he'd been curious so he accepted. They'd spent some time together. The relationship was still in the very early stages. While she was attractive and intelligent, he hadn't been impressed by her abrasiveness or intolerance of others' spiritual beliefs.
Kathryn was also an avid believer in the power of science. But she was highly tolerant and respectful of other's beliefs. Or at least, she had been.
But what did that matter anymore?
He had to stop thinking about her, but it was a difficult habit to break. While browsing at an alien marketplace earlier in the week, he found more gifts for her than for his secret Santa. Vulcans were notoriously hard to buy for. He briefly wondered if he should purchase something for Seven but rapidly dismissed the notion. It felt far too early for that. Of course, like a fool, he'd bought something for Kathryn.
Starting to feel claustrophobic, his breathing grew faster and his chest felt tighter. He couldn't seem to get enough air. He hated the sensation of being pinned in place. He had to move. He had to get out. An attempt to bend his torso sent a fresh bolt of pain lacing through him. He bit back a groan.
"Hello?"
"Hello? Where are you? Are you okay?" Chakotay asked. He heard a woman's voice but he had no recollection of who she was. Given the pounding in his temples, a mild concussion might account for that.
"I'm okay but I'm trapped. How are you?" The soprano voice responded.
"Not so good. I can't move. Can you contact the ship?"
"No. We're going to have to wait for a rescue."
Who was she?
He was too embarrassed to ask. As the senior officer and leader of the away team, he should be looking out for her, not the other way around.
He was ashamed that his breathing was still rapid. The pressure on his chest was becoming unbearable. He didn't know how he was going to survive even a few more minutes. Given the elaborate labyrinth of tunnels, it could take hours for Voyager to locate them. Or maybe even days. He squeezed his eyes closed, dreading the thought.
"Take slower, deeper breaths, if you can," the woman calmly advised.
She didn't sound afraid. He was mortified that he was employing his last vestige of strength to remain calm and relatively coherent. He didn't understand his reaction. He'd been through worse than this.
His panic spiked again when he tasted the distinctive coppery tang of blood in his mouth. He coughed, trying to spit it out.
"Hang in there. They're coming for us." The voice assured him.
"How? How are they going to find us? There are miles of these tunnels. And our combadges aren't working. They won't have a signal to lock onto."
Normally Chakotay wasn't so emotional or negative. But being optimistic took more energy than he had. And this was an all-time low point for him.
He'd honestly believed that the spirits of his ancestors had guided his life. That they'd brought him to Voyager, and to Kathryn. He'd accepted that destiny with open arms. He'd felt at peace with it.
Now he wondered if he'd just been a fool.
Maybe there were spiritual forces in the universe, but they certainly didn't give a damn about him.
"You're important to them. They won't give up without a fight."
"I don't know about that. I've failed at everything that really matters. I rebelled against my people, my father. I wasn't there when he really needed me. We fought and I never had the chance to apologize to him before he died. When I joined the fight, to protect my people it was too little, too late. I couldn't even help…."
What the hell was he doing? This wasn't like him. Why was he spilling his guts to this nameless person?
"But you learned from those experiences. Isn't that what matters the most? Isn't that what they were for? To shape and mold you?"
More softly, he said, "I've failed her."
"No, you haven't. It's just not the right time."
He flinched, launching fresh pain through his body. Despite the coldness of the cave, he could feel his face burning with shame. Had he actually said that out loud? To another crew member, no less. How humiliating. His filter was gone. It usually took at least a bottle of Antarian cider for him to become so indiscrete.
Pain was overwhelming his senses. He was drowning in the sensation. He felt like the waves were about to overtake him and drag him under.
And that would be the end.
He was glad that he wasn't going to die alone, though he'd always believed that he'd die more nobly. Perhaps in battle, defending colonists from Cardassians. Protecting the Voyager crew. Or defending her honor.
He was more than ready to give in to the seductive lure of unconsciousness and beyond, which promised the absence of pain,
"It doesn't matter anymore," he said.
"Of course, it does."
He focused on her voice as he drifted.
"You're on the right path. Hang in there."
"People care about you. They need you."
"She needs you."
XXXX
He sensed he was in a different place. His body felt less confined and there was significantly less pressure on his chest. Though the pain radiating from his leg was beyond intense. He wasn't fully awake and he didn't have the energy to open his eyelids. He could sense movement about him. There were many hands touching his body.
He felt curiously detached, like his physical body no longer belonged to him.
When the pain finally started to fade, he wondered if it were due to drugs administered from a hypospray or the release of his body's natural endorphins, preparing to shut down his body permanently.
At that point, he was fine with either option. He was ready to accept death, though he was disappointed he would no longer be able to assist Kathryn.
Suddenly, even though his eyes were closed, he perceived a warm glowing light that beckoned to him. He felt compelled to draw nearer to it. He felt his spirit reaching towards it.
Then he heard shouting. A warm jolt of energy shot through his chest before he lost consciousness again.
XXXXX
Finally, he felt warm and almost comfortable, like he was wrapped in a thick fuzzy blanket. A hazy heavy sensation overwhelmed him. He had no idea where he was or even if he were alive or dead.
Had he been embraced by the glowing light?
A husky female voice was speaking. It wasn't the same as the voice of the woman from the cave. He couldn't make out all of the words.
"Don't you dare-"
"Stay with me!"
He could sense powerful emotions – rage, fear. And something else.
"-can't do this-'
"I need-"
Small feminine hands tightly gripped his hand and arm, squeezing the life out of him. The grip served as an anchor, securely holding him in place, preventing his spirit from leaving his body.
XXXX
Chakotay's eyelids fluttered open. He flinched as his pupils reacted to the florescent lighting of Sickbay which was significantly brighter than the inky darkness of the chamber. His head and body still throbbed, though his level of pain was more tolerable.
"You are awake." Seven was standing nearby.
Since she was there, he assumed that it had been her holding vigil by his bedside. He couldn't help but feebly grin. He was still terribly weak and could barely move.
After that conversation in the Mess Hall about spiritual beliefs, he'd been ready to give up on pursuing that relationship. Yet the fact that she'd been by his side, holding his hand and supporting him while he was struggling had changed his outlook.
While he hadn't comprehended most of her words, powerful feelings had clearly been conveyed. Given her traumatic experience with the Borg, he hadn't thought that Seven was capable of experiencing the depths of such emotions.
In fact, he wondered if she might ever be able to handle intense feelings. Many times, she seemed emotionally cold and distant. Yet, it wasn't her fault, after what she'd experienced being assimilated by the Borg at such a young age.
Chakotay's thoughts weren't processing quickly.
He suddenly realized that although Seven was visiting him, she was standing perfectly erect as usual, with her typical reserve. She was not touching him. Her voice sounded normal. He was having trouble reconciling this with his recent memory.
"Thanks for visiting me before," he said, testing his assumption.
"You are mistaken. I did not come by. You were unconscious. It did not serve a purpose."
Chakotay felt his brow furrow slightly.
"Did I do something wrong? Should I have visited?" She asked.
The revelation nearly took his breath away.
Although he was crushed and confused, he reassured her. "No Seven, not at all."
It hadn't been her.
So who was the woman in the cave?
"How about the woman?" Chakotay spoke his thoughts out loud.
He still felt ashamed that he couldn't remember her name or who had been on the away team. He was familiar with all of the crew members. It was part of his job. She'd been a life saver helping him to focus his energy in a positive direction when he'd been ready to surrender to the inevitability of death.
"What woman?" Seven asked.
"The one trapped in the cave with me."
Maybe she was on a different berth in Sickbay? He didn't have the energy to lift his head to search about. He hoped she hadn't been badly injured for she'd been trapped in the rubble as well.
For a brief moment, during Seven's hesitation, he wondered if she was trying to protect him emotionally. Then he realized that wouldn't be her style.
"Chakotay, you were found alone."
Becoming more agitated, he said, "Are you sure? Was the entire away team accounted for?"
"Yes, all of the members of the away team made it back to Voyager. Some sustained minor injuries but yours were the most severe. You almost died. It took us more than twelve hours to locate you. You've been unconscious for over two days."
Feeling overwhelmed, he closed his eyes. With the last remains of his energy, he let Seven know that he was tired and needed to rest. "Thanks for stopping by."
No one was found in the cave with him.
No one.
How could that be?
Had he been so out of it that he'd imagined the voice?
But that didn't seem right.
Who was she?
And who had been by his side, holding his hand in Sickbay, reassuring him and speaking so passionately?
Had he been so concussed that he'd made them both up?
XXXX
He drifted in and out of consciousness, unable to discern how much time was passing. He was extremely weak. He obsessed about the unexplained voices, but his thoughts made no sense, running around in circles.
As he lay on the biobed, he felt the firm grip on his forearm again. Lacking energy and not wanting to chase the person off, he partially opened his eyelids. The Captain was seated in a chair beside him.
Examining her face, he was shocked to observe that for the first time in a long while, her guard was lowered. There was a tenderness about her eyes which were furrowed with dark ridges. Her skin was pale and her eyes were bloodshot.
When had she last slept?
When she reached over with her other hand to firmly squeeze his hand, he knew.
Kathryn had been the person who had stayed by his side in Sickbay.
His heart beat a little faster when he realized that she still cared about him. He worried that he was imagining this. That he longed for her affection so badly that his imagination was creating this.
Yet more of her words came back to him.
"Don't you dare leave me!"
"I can't do this without you."
"I need you."
He squeezed her hand with gentle pressure, to assure himself that she was really there. Her blue eyes widened and met his. She grinned weakly. Tears started welling in her eyes.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "You were righ-"
"It's okay." He interrupted, always wanting to reassure her. "I'll be okay." Even though he could barely move and had no idea regarding the extent of his injuries.
"I thought we were going to lose you." Her voice cracked as she spoke. "It took so long to find you. And when we did-" She blinked back tears and swallowed hard.
"It's okay." He couldn't bear to see her upset. He concentrated on lacing his fingers through hers.
A tear trailed down her cheek. "You know, we waited. It wouldn't be Christmas without you."
While he was touched, he wasn't especially concerned about missing the party.
With her other hand, she gently touched his chest.
His mind started to drift. He didn't want to close his eyes, but his body had other plans.
"Don't go."
"I won't." She assured him.
While he was thrilled that he'd solved part of the mystery and that the answer was even better than he'd hoped, there was still the question of the voice in the cave.
Had it been just a delusion resulting from his concussion? Something his mind had created to help him cope with a desperate situation.
Tom Paris would certainly argue that.
It was a rational explanation.
Yet he felt differently.
What had Neelix said the other day?
Belief is a choice.
Chakotay chose to embrace this gift. To believe that the spirits had intervened while he was trapped in that cave, sustaining him for hours until the Voyager crew could locate and rescue him. Now his sense of purpose and well-being had been restored, along with hope for a relationship with the love of his life.
He thanked the spirits for these wonderful gifts as he fell asleep.
THE END
A/N: The original story that inspired me was about a man trapped in a stairwell, pinned beneath the wreckage in the Twin Towers. While he was injured, alone, and terrified, he heard a man's voice. He assumed that the man was part of the rescue team that was methodically working through the debris to rescue him. The voice continually encouraged him not to give up. They spoke for several hours. The mysterious voice even told him his name. Once the man in the stairwell had been rescued, he asked to meet the person that had stayed near his side and helped him maintain his sanity, only to learn there was no person by that name on the rescue team. And that no one would've been able to get near enough for him to hear a voice.
I haven't been able to verify this account, but I've since learned that it's very similar to that described in the book, "Angel in the Rubble" by Genelle Guzman, which I intend to read. Most likely, this was the story I originally heard, and after twenty years, I got some details wrong.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!