Post Equinox

To say that I feel awful is an understatement. I let him down. I let myself down. We haven't had an argument. Not like this. We fight about petty things at home: he doesn't cap the toothpaste; I don't shut the bathroom light off – silly things. We've been good; we don't bring the bridge to the bedroom. But this time I don't know. At the time, I wasn't thinking. I was acting on revulsion and impulse. What I did to Noah Lessing is unforgivable. My tactics were almost Cardassian.

Ransom is dead. Now I can't even apologise. I can't make things right. I accused him of losing his humanity while I was on the verge of losing my own. I've been lucky. He didn't have what I have – a second conscience.

I was so angry. I don't think I've ever felt so much anger. Learning that the Hirogen was using my crew to practice their hunting tactics comes in at a close second. And now I sit alone in the silence of my ready room. Dressing down the Equinox crew was exhausting.

I'm spent.

We have to talk about this. I have to face him. We knew that this would happen when we got married. We knew that sometimes we'd have to hurt each other. But even though I'm apprehensive, the truth is that I'd rather fight with him than have to face this alone in the silence of my quarters.

He's been off duty for two hours. I reinstated his rank, but I didn't do it in person. I'm still too raw. I think he is too. No time like the present, Katie.

The doors to our cabin hiss open. I square my shoulders and walk in. I almost expect him to throw something at me. That's what I would have done. I'm ready for a fight. I'm ready for yelling and arguing. But I can't seem to find him.

"Chakotay?" I call out.

"Kathryn," he responds. His tone is even. His voice is soft, unlaced with anger or bitterness.

I see him now. He walks out of our bedroom resplendent in nothing but a pair of white pajama bottoms. He's clever and sneaky. He knows that even with my hot Irish temper, I can't win an argument with my half naked gorgeous husband. He slowly saunters over to me, his face expressionless.

"We have to talk."

"I know"

"Put a shirt on. You know I'm never going to win if I'm too focused staring at your naked chest".

He chuckles. He's standing right in front of me now. I feel the heat radiating off his skin, "I know why you did what you did, Kathryn. But you scared me. I don't like seeing that side of you."

I look down. Shame once again washes over me, "I know. I'm sorry. I was so angry I couldn't see straight."

He slips his hand into my hair, sending tingles along my scalp and all the way to my toes, "I know".

Burning hot tears start to pour from my eyes. I don't mean to cry but I don't know what else to do with the emotions. He holds me as the sobs rack my body. My hot tears traverse a path down his chest. I cling to him. My Ebenezer. My constant. My stronghold. I'm crying because I'm angry. I'm crying for the lines that I crossed, for the lines that Ransom crossed. I'm even crying because I'm not pregnant and I'm frustrated.

His big hands rub circles on my back, "shhh" he kisses my head. The sobs start to subside.

"Better?"

I smile weakly. No. But it will be. He makes everything better.