Title: Kiss of the Spider People
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Author: Singing Violin
Rating: T
Summary: Janeway gets into some hot water with some hostile aliens. Set shortly after "Coda."
Disclaimer: They're not mine (except the aliens), so don't send me money for my story. This one might count as parody, though it's not funny.
Feedback: Yes please.
Archiving: Anywhere.
Acknowledgments: Special thank you to GH. First, she was a carrot. Now she's a wall against which I may throw plot-idea spaghetti until one of the strands sticks.
Dedication: This is the first chapter I'm posting since the Great Travesty of 2008. I must therefore dedicate it to the New England Patriots, who exceeded everyone's expectations, proving themselves to be The Best, only to disappoint when it finally counted. Funny how the whole ordeal felt oddly familiar …

Chapter 5: Twilight

Chakotay could have sworn that his heart skipped a beat as he spotted Kathryn unmoving on the floor of her living quarters. He wasn't aware of the motion of his legs, but in the next moment, he was kneeling at her side, his hand on her shoulder. When he saw her move slightly, he breathed an instant sigh of relief. She's alive.

Then he noticed she'd been sick – was still sick. He lifted her slightly off the ground, one arm supporting her torso, and turned her towards the floor so that her mouth would drain. She blinked groggily, spitting a small bit of bile out onto the floor. Then she convulsed slightly in his arms, weakly expelling a bit more.

He stroked her hair, not knowing what else he could do other than hold her, not even sure if she realized who was doing the holding. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as she spat onto the carpet.

After a few seconds, when he was sure she was done, he gathered her towards him, allowing her to rest against his chest, his arms still protectively encircling her. "I'm going to take you to Sickbay," he told her, hoping she was aware enough to understand.

She tensed immediately, the prospect of Sickbay suddenly terrifying. She was sure, somehow, that if the Doctor had her there, he would euthanize her like he had in her hallucination …

"No," she whispered, so softly that he wasn't, at first, sure that she had spoken at all. But then she continued, "Please don't. Doc can't do anything."

Chakotay felt as if someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. She knows something.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, not entirely sure if he wanted to know the answer. She didn't provide one.

Suddenly, everything she'd been through in the last few hours seemed to engulf her, leaving her drowning as if tipped overboard into a stormy sea. She was mortified at the state in which she was being seen by, of all people, her first officer, who needed to respect her in order for their command relationship to function …

You may not get another chance to command him, she realized. It was then that she became aware of the tenderness with which he held her – even after she'd rebuffed him, after she'd driven him away, he still cared – and the acknowledgement of his affection for her sent her over the edge. Feeling herself losing control of her emotions, she attempted to pull away, but his tight embrace trapped her, and she found herself withering in his arms.

As a strange sound escaped from her lips, he realized belatedly that she was crying. Dumbstruck, he turned her around again so she was facing him, and she buried her face in his chest and quietly sobbed. All he could do was to wrap himself around her while he desperately attempted to keep his own emotions in check, to be strong for her. He'd never seen this level of weakness from her and it frightened him more than he could ever have imagined. He stroked her back with a shaking hand and whispered to her that everything was going to be okay – even though he had no idea whether it was – and suspected his comforting words might prove to be lies.

It didn't take long before she quieted. She realized as soon as it began that crying would only be another drain on her already sapped fluids, and that it would likely eat significant time out of her remaining life. Still, it took a moment to compose herself – and admittedly, when she did regain her poise – as much as was possible in her current condition – she felt slightly better for having been able to externalize her emotions, albeit briefly.

Finally, she felt capable of speaking again, and decided what she wanted to do. She lifted her head off his chest and looked at him, suddenly finding strength where there had been none before. It occurred to her that his embrace had lent her energy ... after all, just the memory of his warm arms around her had supported her through her mission …

"Please," she begged, swallowing the shame at even having to ask this much, "help me to the bathroom. I need to clean up."

He was confused for a moment, but upon surveying her state, realized to what she referred. He gulped, wondering what hell she had been through in the past few hours to leave her like this.

"Please," she begged again, and he realized he hadn't answered.

"Of course," he replied quickly, then carefully stood, bringing her up with him. Leaning heavily against him, feeling his arm firmly around her waist, she managed to traverse the short distance on her own two feet.

He didn't want to let go, but he understood her need for privacy.

As she disappeared around the corner, he called to her. "I'll be right here," he promised. "Yell if you need anything."

Surprisingly, she found herself amused by the offer. I couldn't yell if I wanted to right now. It then occurred to her that she was going to need something to change into … my, I'm slow tonight.

"Chakotay," she responded, "can you grab me something fresh to wear?"

Of course; why didn't I think of that? "Yes. I'll be back in a moment," he answered.

While she struggled to draw herself a bath – there was no way she was going to be able to stand in the shower, and the thought of the warm water soothing her aching muscles was appealing anyway – he went to her bedroom and opened her drawers.

As he touched her underwear, the image of her wearing it – and nothing but it – appeared unbidden in his mind, and he struggled to suppress the lust rising within him. Stop it, he ordered himself. This is no time to fantasize. Get the item and get back there – she could drown in the bath while you're busy daydreaming …

She relaxed into the warm water, using the sponge to wipe away the stickiness on her legs and the grime that covered her whole body. Focused on her task, she didn't notice how much it hurt just to move.

He selected a comfortable-looking silk pajama set for her, then turned around to return to his spot just outside the bathroom. His eyes fell upon the bed, barren of sheets, and he gulped again, wondering what had transpired to cause her to remove them and not replace them. It occurred to him that she might have been sick before, and a cold feeling of guilt began to trickle into his stomach. How long has she been dealing with this on her own? Why didn't I see? Why didn't I help? Spirits, I sent her on a dangerous mission while she was ill … I placed her in that coffin myself … how could I not have known? I shouldn't have let her go …

Finally, Kathryn felt clean enough to be presentable – whatever "presentable" meant for a soon-to-be corpse. She almost laughed aloud at herself for her irrational need to die neatly, but another concern soon invaded her fluttering mind. Getting out of the tub is going to be even more difficult than getting in, she realized belatedly. After a few moments, she resigned herself to the fact that she wasn't going to be able to do it on her own.

"Chakotay," she called, as loudly as she could muster.

He didn't respond. Tears threatened again as she realized he'd left her alone, and she was going to die, naked in the bath … oh God. A warring sensation of mirth, however, took hold, and she began to giggle. It could be worse …

Chakotay shook himself out of his reverie and hurried back. When he arrived, he heard an odd noise. Was Kathryn laughing?! "Kathryn," he called, "are you all right?" Of course she's not all right. There's something so wrong that she couldn't even tell you what it was before dissolving into tears – tears! Something that caused her to be sick, something that caused her to … Suddenly he knew why there were no sheets on the bed, and he wanted to scream. He clamped a hand over his mouth, causing only a choked cry to escape before he was interrupted by the sound of her voice.

"Chakotay," she mumbled. "I thought you'd left."

Never, my woman warrior. I will never leave your side …

"I brought you some clothes," he replied lamely. "Sorry, I was in the other room and didn't hear you call. Here, I'll reach around and put the clothes just inside for you, okay?"

"I can't …" she admitted, "I can't get out of the bath. I'm going to …" She swallowed her mortification at again having to impose such intimacy upon him. "I'm going to need you to help me."

Spirits, why do you test me so? While he didn't relish having to repress his desire and aid his naked captain without staring, he'd known for some time that he would do anything for her. Including not taking her to Sickbay, just because she asked, he admonished silently.

Immediately, he was at her side, rolling up his sleeves and attempting to avert his eyes as much as possible. He knew she was uncomfortable enough as it was, and he didn't want to add any pain. Looking past her, he reached into the bath and lifted her out of it, depositing her gently onto the rug. He scrambled around to locate a towel, then nearly threw it on top of her. She gratefully wrapped it around herself, shivering as the water began to evaporate from her skin.

It was then he remembered the pile of clothes. He picked it up and placed it next to her.

They shared an awkward moment of silence as he wondered whether to offer to help her change into the pajamas, or whether he was better off leaving the room as quickly as possible to afford her some privacy.

He decided upon the latter, but needed an excuse to leave her again. "You have no bedclothes," he observed tentatively.

She paled, not knowing how to respond. Of course he noticed.

Observing her discomfort, he continued hurriedly. "I'll go make the bed for you, if you're okay for the moment."

She breathed a sigh of relief at his obvious desire to let her change on her own, but was simultaneously appalled to ask him for what amounted to maid service. He's probably going to offer to clean up my vomit, too, she realized with horror.

"You don't need to," she tried. "You've been a big help already. If I can just get to the couch, after I dress …"

Despite himself, he smiled. "Kathryn," he started, but paused, realizing that his use of her first name could be uncomfortable for her right now, as it would remind her that he now knew her more intimately than she would have wanted had the circumstances not necessitated it. He mentally smacked himself for his slip, but upon further reflection, realized that "Captain" would be equally awkward at the moment, as it would suggest same thing via the stark contrast between formality and …

"Yes, Chakotay?" she prompted, noticing his hesitation, and feeling a wash of emotions related to the observation. She was amused to see him bashful, like a schoolboy with a crush – which reminded her that he had, in fact, admitted somewhat of a crush on her not so long ago, on New Earth – and she found herself inexplicably relieved that he still felt enough attraction to be shy around her – but she also found herself dismayed by the whole situation; after all, she was an engaged woman … who had just asked him to aid her in getting her naked body out of the water … and he couldn't possibly be aroused by that, could he? After all, she'd just thrown up all over the floor in front of him, and …

"It's no trouble," he finally replied. "I'll be right back."

Concentrating on moving her limbs, she managed to get the pajamas on, then, still cold from the endothermic process of evaporation and, no doubt, from fever and the lingering effects of her prolonged exposure to the frigid air on the alien ship, she again wrapped the towel around herself and waited for him to return. Her eyelids drooped, and she found herself tipping over to lie curled up on her side. Finally, warmth began to permeate her entire body, and she was overwhelmed by a sensation of floating, as if the gravity generators had gone offline. Is this what it feels like to die? she wondered distantly as she faded into unconsciousness.

When Chakotay returned, he again rushed to her side, a flashback of the scene not twenty minutes earlier assaulting his eyes. She'd wrapped herself in the towel as if it were a blanket. I took too long …

He placed his hands on her shoulders and felt the slight movement of her deep breathing, and again reveled in the relief of her survival. She's fallen asleep … I'd better wake her.

Gently, he shook her, calling her name, but she didn't wake up. His utterances grew more urgent, the chant of "Kathryn" becoming a mantra as he begged her to open her eyes and was met with no response.

Tears now streaming down his cheeks, he gathered her to him again and made a firm decision, tapping his communicator. "Chakotay to Sickbay," he choked out. "Medical emergency! It's the captain; she's sick; she won't wake up …"

It was becoming increasingly clear that the plan was not going to be successful. Rather than focusing upon repairing the ship, she was interrogating – and executing – suspects, one by one.

It was also clear that he was not far down on the list, and in an effort to preserve his own life, he abandoned hope of returning to the engine room to take control of the ship while it was vulnerable – after all, most of the guards were there, and would capture him immediately upon his arrival. He had hoped she would ask him to begin repairs, but apparently she had more pressing concerns …

It disgusted him. Even though he disapproved of eating his fellows, he knew that when a slaughter of this magnitude occurred, much of the meat would go to waste, and that offended his sensibilities even more. But she was more interested in asserting her power – by whatever means proved most effective at preserving it – than in caring for her ship, maintaining efficiency, and conserving resources … it was another reason she could not be allowed to remain in control much longer, and he vowed, even as he planned his escape, to return, somehow, to finish the job he had started.

Quietly, he snuck through the ship, being careful to evade the guards, which were thankfully few and far between due to their concentration in the engine room and interrogation chambers.

Finally, he arrived at the escape pod, commandeered it, and quickly uploaded the program to mask it from the sensors, should they be repaired before he could get far enough away – though with her current strategy, he didn't think it likely he would be in danger of being detected anytime soon.

As he watched the ship grow smaller in the window, he allowed himself to bask in the joy that, at least, his faith in the aliens had not been misplaced: he had not overestimated their technical expertise. Her reign was nearing an end, for his compatriot tinkerers would soon find a way to oust her, even if he were unsuccessful …

The Doctor eyed his guest with concern. "Commander," he admonished, "please stop pacing, lest you wear out my floor. I rather enjoy my carpet!"

Chakotay's only answer was to glare menacingly at the hologram as he continued his motion.

The EMH sighed and returned to running various instruments over the captain, who lay pale and motionless on the biobed, the only indication of her continued survival the steady flashing of lights on the monitor panel indicating her heartbeat and respiration.

Finally, the Doctor stilled, snapping a tricorder shut in his hand. He looked up grimly.

Chakotay shook his head. "No," he cried softly, then repeated himself, just a bit louder. "No."

The Doctor frowned. "I'm sorry; she's in a coma. Unless I can get a pure sample of the venom with which she was infected, I will not be able to counteract its effects, and she will likely never awaken. You'd best to say your goodbyes, Commander, then begin taking over the captain's duties. I imagine you have a lot of work to do …"

The tall man was appalled by the prospect, and interrupted the Doctor before he could continue. "I won't accept that," he replied. "You say you need a pure sample? Well, then, we'll just have to return to their space and get one."

The hologram was nonplussed. "Are you sure that is wise, Commander? After all, she just got us out of their space, and it's doubtful a similar ruse would work again. I can't imagine it is what she would want."

"Doctor," he replied firmly, "I am now in command of this vessel, and you will do as I order. Just keep her alive, and let me handle the rest. She can throw me in the brig when she has recovered."

With that, he stormed out of Sickbay and headed directly to the bridge.

"If the brig still exists to throw you in," the Doctor muttered to himself as he watched the commander exit.