Title: Coping
Rating: T
Author: Singing Violin
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Summary: Chakotay suspects something terrible has happened to the captain, and he wants to help, but when he tries, he only makes things worse. Very dark, but not graphic.
Disclaimer: The Star Trek characters and universe are not mine.
Author's Note (Chapter 4): Sorry it took a little longer for this one; RL has been busy. Thank you to the lovely Lia Harkness for once again giving this a look-see. As usual, it has been revised since she last saw it, so I take responsibility for all errors. Also thank you to all of those who have left reviews, faved and followed the story, and sent me pm's!

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Chakotay's foot couldn't seem to stop vibrating up and down; the nervous energy that coursed through every vein in his body needed an outlet, and his lower appendage was apparently the last stop. It had been nearly three hours and he had not yet been relieved of duty, nor reprimanded, nor had any interaction with anyone that indicated that his last conversation with the captain had even happened.

He was worried.

Tuvok did not have bridge duty this shift, but had Captain Janeway met with him as planned, the conference ought to have ended quickly. Unless, of course, they were discussing something so important and complicated that it required a lengthy discourse...something like Chakotay's own status? He needed information. Quickly, he tapped his communicator and called for the chief of security, hoping that the Vulcan was not currently speaking with the captain.

The commander was terse. "Tuvok, are you busy?"

The security chief was just as brief. "I am always busy, Commander. Your point?"

"Are you able to meet with me in my office about a matter of utmost importance to the ship?" he asked, hoping he did not sound too desperate.

"Always," Tuvok answered. "I shall see you in five minutes."

The commander breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that Tuvok's instant availability most likely indicated that he had not been with the captain during the call. More importantly, however, Tuvok's obeisance indicated that Chakotay still outranked him, and therefore it seemed that Tuvok hadn't yet met with the captain at all. But why not? When the commander had left the ready room, the captain had indicated that she was about to call for Tuvok, so why hadn't she? Or had she, and then not asked him to take over? Or had he refused as well?

Determined to spend the next five minutes figuring out exactly what he was going to talk to Tuvok about—and how he would approach the subject without being shut down as he had been when he'd attempted to speak with the Doctor, B'Elanna Torres, and the captain herself—he retreated to his office to await his guest. As he handed over the bridge to Lieutenant Paris, the pilot gave him an odd look, which he did not have the energy to completely decipher, but definitely included curiosity and concern. He hoped his behavior—not to mention the seemingly sudden urgent call to Tuvok—hadn't been too unnerving for the rest of the bridge staff, but at the moment, he didn't particularly care.

When the doors slid open to allow entrance to a stone-faced Vulcan, who approached his desk and then stood at attention, much as the commander himself had done before the captain not too long ago, Chakotay found himself momentarily flustered, but his panic instantly gave way to a tentative plan.

He did not ask the Vulcan to sit, as he knew that Tuvok preferred to stand.

"Thank you for coming, Lieutenant," he started, giving himself a moment to compose his thoughts before continuing. "I have some concerns, and to address them, I would like you to answer a few questions."

The raised eyebrow indicated annoyance that he wasn't being more specific, but as usual, Tuvok complied. "Indeed. I am listening."

"Let's start with a hypothetical," he tried, knowing that asking outright would likely be met with similar resistance to that he had encountered previously when prying into the captain's personal affairs. "If the captain were to order you to take over as captain, what would your response be?"

The eyebrow climbed even higher. "I suppose I would first question why she would be handing over her duties to me rather than to you."

Chakotay sighed. "Let's say she asked me first, and I refused."

As the eyebrow reset itself, the Vulcan appeared quite puzzled, at least as much as his impassive face would allow. "Why would you refuse to take over as captain?"

"Perhaps I disagreed with her reasons for stepping down," Chakotay answered carefully, attempting to keep his voice steady so as not to betray the not-so-hypothetical reasons for the conversation.

"Commander, while I have known you and the captain to have disagreements, I have never seen you disobey a direct order, except to save the captain or the ship. I must admit I cannot posit a plausible explanation for your refusal to take over her duties upon request. The only reason you would disobey her is because she was impaired, and in that case, you would relieve her of duty whether she had requested to be relieved or not."

Feeling deflated, Chakotay paused a moment, contemplating Tuvok's impeccable logic. "All right, so hypothetically speaking, I may have been acting emotionally and illogically. Assuming that I had refused to take over, and the captain subsequently asked you, what would your response be?"

Tuvok's answer was easy. "I would obey orders and take over."

"Right," Chakotay answered, feeling foolish for even asking, but then continuing with trepidation, "And what would you do about me?"

Tuvok thought for a moment before replying. "I suppose I would order you to Sickbay for an evaluation."

"Not the brig for insubordination?" Chakotay asked, confused.

"Your actions would not constitute a threat to the ship," Tuvok pointed out. "A loss, perhaps, but not a direct threat, as long as you were refusing command. You would have no power with which to threaten the ship. Therefore, my primary concern would be with your state of mind."

"And what about the captain?" Chakotay pointed out. "Would you not be concerned about her state of mind?"

The eyebrow went up again. "I will point out that it is the captain's prerogative to relay her duties to whomever she chooses, for any reason. I trust that she would only do so if she believed it were in the best interest of the ship."

"Thank you, Tuvok," Chakotay answered, attempting to keep the frustration out of his voice. "You may go."

The Vulcan gave a slight nod of his head and exited as ordered.

The commander sat for quite some time, mulling over what he had been told. It was clear that the chief of security had not been handed command, because Chakotay hadn't been ordered to Sickbay. But why would the captain threaten to call her second officer, and then not call him?

The lieutenant's words echoed in his brain: she believed it was in the best interest of the ship. Then, he remembered what she had said when he had first walked into her ready room: I'm not fit for duty.

So...Kathryn truly believed that she was not fit for duty, and that it was in the best interest of the ship to step down. But then, when he had refused to take over, why would she not hand over command immediately to the next in line? What, exactly, would impair her to the point where he could take over, but Tuvok could not? Had he successfully convinced her that she was, in fact, fit for duty? Why then, had she allowed him to leave the ready room feeling as if he were headed for a long stint in the brig? Had she just wanted him to squirm, and if so, why?

Or...was it just that Kathryn was afraid to speak to Tuvok, to admit her weakness in front of him? Had her request been a cry for help, and he'd been so callous as to ignore it?

Was she okay?

Suddenly he wondered where she had been for the last few hours. Was she still in her ready room? How would she react if he entered uninvited?

He almost queried the computer as to her whereabouts, but then realized that, unless he was prepared to just take over her duties as originally asked—and that was assuming the offer still stood, which, given his behavior, he wasn't so sure about—it didn't matter, because any meeting with her was unlikely to go better than the last one, and might in fact exacerbate the situation.

He needed more information. Preferably about this mysterious "training" that only women received.

He searched the official Starfleet database for any documentation of the course, to no avail, but to little surprise either. It makes sense that it's not available publicly, if men aren't even supposed to know about it.

He then attempted to circumvent security and break into the classified files, again with no luck. It seemed that, whatever this training, was either not well documented, or extremely well hidden.

Then, it occurred to him that there was one more place he could look. If he were uncomfortable with even the idea of the training, it stood to reason that those with existing conflicts with Starfleet might agree with his sentiments, and that those people might have made their objections known to others. Perhaps some of them were women who had been enrolled in the course. If they'd been in conflict with the organization that provided them with the instruction, they would have no motivation to keep the course material secret as requested.

"Computer, access Maquis records from the Val Jean. Query for the terms 'sexual assault' or 'rape' and 'training' or 'instruction', in the context of written grievances."

"Forty-seven matches," the computer answered evenly.

Chakotay inhaled sharply in response to the large number. "Send them to my screen," he ordered, steeling himself for a long and difficult read.

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