Star Trek Voyager characters are the property of Paramount Pictures.

Way The Wind Blows

Chapter Five

The morning was sunny, a total contrast to the night before. Chakotay worked busily in the kitchenette, preparing breakfast for himself and Kathryn. He'd already set the table, replicated some apple juice, fruit chunks, toast, a jug of maple syrup, and was now putting a lid over freshly cooked pancakes to keep them warm. To protect his clothes, he had replicated a white apron, and was wearing this over black jeans and a beige sweater. The computer had told him it was late summer, 2360, but there was a chill in the air, so he had replicated appropriate garments.

Just as Chakotay was carrying the pancakes over to the table, Kathryn's bedroom door opened and Kathryn appeared, followed by her dog. She was wearing a blue velvet dressing gown and matching blue slippers, and her uncombed hair was loose over her shoulders. Even though she had slept for hours, she looked exhausted. When she saw Chakotay at the table, a light filled her dull eyes.

"Chakotay," she said. "You're still here..."

Chakotay smiled warmly. "Good morning, Kathryn."

Her eyes wandered to the table and she looked at what he had prepared. "And you've made breakfast." She walked towards the table. "You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble."

"It's no trouble at all," he said, picking up an empty glass and filling it with apple juice. "I dare say you would rather have coffee, but juice in the morning is far more healthy."

He held out the glass to Kathryn, and she took it with a smile. "You really do know me."

She took a sip of the juice, and then lifted the lid on the plate Chakotay had just put down, eager to know what was on it.

"Mmm. Pancakes..."

"Real, not replicated," he smiled.

"And they smell wonderful," Kathryn said, sitting down. "You really must be a good cook."

Chakotay took off his apron, put it behind a chair, and sat opposite her. "Help yourself to as many as you want."

"I think I will," she smiled. "Thank you."

"I've also replicated us a packed lunch each," he continued, as Kathryn began helping herself to several pancakes, "so we can spend the day at the lake."

Kathryn picked up the jug of maple syrup. "Quite an early bird, aren't you? I'm never good in the mornings."

Given that she was taking sleeping pills and whiskey, Chakotay wasn't surprised. The habit was worrying him and he wanted to talk to her about it, but he knew he would have to choose his moment carefully. Breakfast wasn't it. She was thin enough as it was, he didn't want to raise a subject that would most likely make her lose the little appetite she had.

Kathryn poured the syrup over her pancakes. "How is the headache today?"

"Seems to have gone. I feel good."

"I'm glad. It's quite a walk to the lake. I was worried, after I'd suggested it, that maybe it would be too much for you."

"Not at all, I'm sure the fresh air will do me good." He poured himself a glass of apple juice. "So, tell me about the castle. Is it the same one you found a sick old lady in once?" He remembered a story Kathryn had once told Naomi and the Borg children about an adventure she'd had in her youth. She and some friends had broken into an old spooky mansion and almost burnt it to the ground after being terrified by a mad old lady they thought was a ghost.

"You know about that?"

Chakotay nodded. "As I recall, saving the old lady made you quite a heroine."

"Yes," she smiled. "But boy, I sure got into trouble for being there in the first place." She paused. "But to answer your question, no, it's not the same castle. It's from the same period, the twenty first century, but Magruder Mansion was well preserved. This castle is nothing but stone ruins, at least as far as I know. I've never been inside."

"I'm surprised."

"Well, I've only stayed here a couple of times and the weather just wasn't favorable."

"Who built the castle?"

"A Canadian businessman called William Foster. Gothic architecture was popular in the late twenty first century and a lot of castles were built. When a successful business venture made him a fortune, he decided to build a castle that would be greater than all the others and rival any in Europe. If I remember correctly, it took over three years to build. When it was complete, he gave up the business world to live in it with his family. He wanted them to live like they would have lived in the nineteenth century, so he employed servants to take care of them and wouldn't allow modern technology into the castle. He even went as far as buying a dukedom so that he and his family would have a title. He and his wife became known as the Duke and Duchess of Cranbury, and his two sons, Peter and John, became lords. The castle became a popular tourist attraction and every summer the duke would open it the the public. When he died, the castle passed to his eldest son, just as it would have done in ancient times, and his second son hardly inherited anything at all. His father's will said that he was allowed to live on at the castle for as long as he wanted, but that wasn't enough for him. He was jealous of his brother and very bitter. He gambled, drank a lot, and one night during a drunken stupor accidentally started a fire. Within minutes the fire was out of control and many people were killed as it ravaged the castle, including John himself, the old duchess, and the new Duke's wife and children. The Duke was devastated and never got over what happened. He never set foot near the castle again and let it fall into decay. A campaign was started by local people to preserve the castle and restore it, but the Duke wanted nothing to do with it. When the family finally gave the castle over to National Heritage, it had decayed so much that restoring it would have been too much work. So they just made the ruins safe for people to visit."

"A sad story," Chakotay said.

"Yes. Even now there is a sense of sadness around the place. Like all buildings with a tragic history, it's said to have a few resident ghosts. Lord John, his mother, and many others who died that night. My sister swears she saw a woman in white standing at a window in one of the towers when she visited the castle, but it was probably her imagination. I don't believe in ghosts." She returned to her pancakes. "Do you?"

"Yes," Chakotay replied. "I'm a spiritual man. I believe there is more to our existence than what we can see and touch."

"I don't. Not in that way. I don't believe we have a soul or that we go anywhere when we die, except to a grave. When we die, I think there is...nothing."

"Perhaps there is nothing," Chakotay replied. "But I choose to believe there is something."

"I wish I could believe," Kathryn said, lowering her knife and fork and looking up at him again. " I think it would help, you know, with all that has happened...But I don't."

"And there's no rule to say you have too," Chakotay said kindly. "All I would say is don't totally close your mind to the possibility. After all, energy never dies, it only changes form. And remember, the good scientist never excludes a possibility, however unlikely or remote that possibility seems."

"I suppose you're right," she said. "I just..." She was interrupted by Petunia's bark. The animal was standing outside the bedroom, obviously trying to communicate something. "Damn," Kathryn said, getting to her feet. "I forgot I was running the bath!" She turned to Chakotay. "I'd better attend to it before we find ourselves swimming. Excuse me."

She hurried into the bedroom and Chakotay laughed softly to himself as she went.

From the top of the highest surviving castle tower, Chakotay looked out at the large lake below. Birds flew over it and the silver water rippled gold as it caught the afternoon sun. It was a beautiful scene in a very beautiful part of the world. He could understand why William Foster had decided to build his magnificent home here, it was such a peaceful place of unspoiled beauty. Just from looking at the castle's remains, Chakotay could tell that it had once been a glorious building. He looked out at the scenery for a moment longer, and then at Kathryn. She was standing beside him, looking out at the same view. She was wearing gray jeans, black sneakers, and a blue sweater. On her back she carried a rucksack, and there was a tricorder and phaser strapped to her waist. He had wanted to carry the rucksack, but she had been so determined to be the one to carry it that he had given in. Her long auburn hair was tied back casually from her face in a ponytail, but a few loose stands blew in the breeze. Chakotay couldn't help gaze at her. She was so beautiful to him. He loved everything about her from the dozens of freckles dusted over her face to her pretty blue eyes and delicate lips.

"I would love to have seen this place in its hey day," Kathryn said. "Or better still, to have stayed here as a guest." She paused. "It's hard to imagine now that once this place was thriving with people, that horses and carts would pull up outside. Stagecoaches too. William Foster wouldn't let any modern transport come within a mile of this place."

"I've always felt it's a great honor to visit places like this," Chakotay replied, "to walk in the footsteps of those who have come before us and share what was once such an intimate part of their existence. There's nothing more intimate than a home, be it a small cottage or a grand castle." He turned to Kathryn and gestured to steps behind him. "Shall we go down?"

Kathryn nodded and made her way to the old worn stone steps. Chakotay let her descend them first, and then followed. The steps were slippy and winding, and both Kathryn and Chakotay held tight to a thick rope that was their only lifeline in this dark turret.

"It's a good thing we didn't bring Petunia," Kathryn said, slowing a little as the light faded further, "she would either have got lost or fallen to her death by now."

The light suddenly grew stronger, and Kathryn and Chakotay found themselves in the remains of a large ground room that was very well preserved. Kathryn looked around, getting her bearing. "We came that way," she said, pointing to her right, "so we need to go that way..." she concluded, pointing to her left.

Chakotay followed her into a narrow corridor and they walked down it until the corridor gave way to another large room. It was circular in shape, perhaps the base of another tower. It was difficult to tell as the ceiling was still intact. There were two large windows in the gray stone walls, but like all other windows in the castle, they were glassless, exposing the room to all the elements. At the center of the room was the remains of a stone well, about three foot in height, and full of water. There was a board beside the well, providing visitors with information, and Kathryn wandered over to it. As she read the board, Chakotay studied the well.

"According to legend," Kathryn said, "if a maiden puts a lock of her hair into the well on the day of a full moon, she will see in the water the face of the man she will marry."

"Does it say the origin of the legend?" Chakotay asked. "Folklore is a fascinating subject."

"No," Kathryn replied, pulling her rucksack off her back, putting it on the floor, and opening it.

Chakotay watched her curiously. "What are you doing?"

"Giving it a try," she said, rummaging in the bag. "There's a full moon tonight. Can't hurt."

She pulled out a little pair of scissors from a silver sewing kit, and then cut off a small lock of her hair, no more than about half an inch. "That should be enough."

Holding the severed hair in her hand, she stood over the well, closed her eyes, and let the hair fall into the water. Then she opened her eyes and looked for her answer.

Chakotay stepped closer. "Do you see anything?"

"No," she said, a trace of disappointment in her voice. "The only face I see, except my own, is yours." She sighed, put away her scissors, picked up her rucksack, and wandered over to the window. "I don't know why I expected to see anything, anyway. It's just a stupid legend."

She sat on what was the remains of an old windowseat and pulled out a cigarette from a box in her rucksack. "I know it's bad manners to smoke in front of someone," she said apologetically, "but I haven't had one all day and I need a fix."

Chakotay looked at her in concern. "What are you smoking?"

"Just tobacco," Kathryn said, carefully lighting up the cigarette, putting away the lighter, and taking a puff. "Not that I smoke a lot, just when I feel like it."

Chakotay went over to her and took the cigarette from her hand. "Make that your last one."

He took the cigarette over to the well and drowned it in the cold water. As he did so, Kathryn got to her feet. "How dare you tell me what to do!"

"Someone's got to," Chakotay said, putting the wet stump in his pocket and walking back over to her. "What are you trying to do, kill yourself?"

"It's none of your business what I do!"

"You can't go on like this, Kathryn. Whiskey, sleeping pills, cigarettes...anything else I should know about?"

Kathryn flinched. "How do you know about the whiskey and sleeping pills?"

"I saw them in your room last night when..."

Kathryn interrupted him, her anger soaring. "You came into my room last night? What the hell do you think you were doing?"

"Checking to see if you were alright, that's what. I got no answer from knocking your door and..."

"Didn't it occur to you that I might have been asleep or in the bath.?"

"Yes, it occurred to me, but the cabin walls are so thin that I could hear you call Petunia when I was taking a shower. You would have heard me, even if you were in the bath, and there's no way the Kathryn I know and love would have slept through the thunderstorm last night."

"I don't care what you thought your reasons were. You had no right to come into my room, none at all!" Tears welled in her eyes. "I trusted you, Chakotay. I took you into my home. But now I see that I was right to distrust you all along."

"I'm only saying all this because I care, Kathryn. I don't expect you to like it. If I didn't care, I would say go ahead, smoke yourself to death, drink as much alcohol as you want and take a whole box of sleeping pills. But what kind of friend would that make me?"

"You're not my friend," Kathryn cried. "I don't even know you! What I do is my business, mine! It's nothing to do with you! I take the pills because I have too, because if I don't, I'm back on that shuttle with Daddy and Justin and the accident happens over and over! I can't take it. I'm getting through as best as I can. You have no right to condemn me!"

Chakotay took a deep breath, his manner and tone softer. "I'm not condemning you, Kathryn. I'm concerned about you. Alcohol, pills, cigarettes, they're not good. You must know that you're not supposed to take alcohol with sleeping pills."

Kathryn turned back to the window. "What does it matter? The whiskey helps me sleep faster."

Chakotay bridged the gap between them and stood close behind her. "It seems to me that you're trying to deal with a tremendous amount of pain all by yourself," he said kindly. "Instead of easing, it's building up inside you and destroying you. I've been down that road myself, it almost destroyed me too. You need to share your pain."

"Share it with who, exactly?" Kathryn asked, turning to him again. "I can't talk to my mother and sister about it because they're hurting too. And even if they weren't, I'm not exactly close to them that way. My mother's not a very affectionate woman, not with adults. It's just the way she is, the way she was brought up. She knew how to comfort me as a child, but as I grew up she just didn't have a clue. I think she understands my sister better, but my sister doesn't understand me."

"What about friends?"

Kathryn almost scoffed. "Ever heard the saying that it's in times of trial that you find out who your real friends are? Well, I can tell you it's true. Since the accident, it's amazing how many "friends" have forgotten I exist. And those I do still have are either too busy with their own lives to have any time for me or are in space."

"I'm sorry," Chakotay said sadly.

"But I don't need them anyway," she continued. "I don't need anyone. When it first happened, the accident, I didn't know how I was going to get through. But I have got through, in my way. I eat, I sleep, I function, and as long as I do that, everyone is happy."

A lump gathered in Chakotay's throat to hear her talk like this. All he wanted was take away the pain somehow, but he didn't know how.

"Every day I wish I was dead," she went on, "but it would hurt the people I love too much if I took my own life, so you can stop worrying about that, if that's what's bothering you. I couldn't do it to them, they've been through enough. So I keep going as best as I can, living because I have too, not because I want too. And I know what you're going to say...that I'm young and smart and have everything to live for...so don't waste your breath. It's easy to say that when you're on the outside. On the inside, in here..." she put a fist to her heart. "It's cold and empty and the only thing I feel is pain..." Tears flooded her eyes and she could say no more as she tried to fight them.

Chakotay opened his arms to her, but she made no response. Seeing the battle in her eyes between longing and misgiving, he kept them open, waiting patiently. Slowly, hesitantly, she drew close and stepped into his arms. He gently gathered her against him and Kathryn wrapped her thin arms around his neck. As his arms closed around her, holding her tenderly, Kathryn gripped him tight and wept.

END OF CHAPTER FIVE