After a little over an hour at the party celebrating the men's return, Gretchen found herself leaving the Mess Hall, head spinning and immediately grateful for the quiet as the doors slid shut behind her.
Harry and Tom were in constant high demand and she had barely had a real moment with either of them as various crew members pulled them in all directions. About half of Voyager's men were now awake and attending the party, though notably none of Voyager's command staff had made an appearance. She could only assume her father and Tuvok were both assisting the Captain.
Neelix had barreled in half an hour ago, screaming for Naomi, who had promptly collapsed on him and keened so fiercely Gretchen had felt it in her soul. The young girl had clung to him and sobbed violently for at least ten minutes, refusing to let go even as her mother Sam gently guided them out the doors to somewhere quieter.
The last member of her Task Force, Athena Ariti, had already left as well, saying that the noise was giving her a headache.
Gretchen had her own headache, and some part of her wanted to keen and collapse. The men were back, after nine long months, and yet it did not feel anything like a homecoming.
I'm leaving soon. Even when Harry and Tom have time to talk to me, what should I say? This is only a reprieve from the separation that's coming.
And of course, my father's gone nine months and can't even leave the Captain to come say hello to me, his only child.
Typical.
Gretchen groaned at her thoughts as she walked down the corridor.
I thought I was done with this feeling. I'm leaving anyway, what difference does it make? I ought to be glad he'll have such an easy time forgetting me.
Gretchen sighed deeply, feeling hollowed out in her stomach.
I want to leave Voyager, but I don't either and…
….this is my home…
Gretchen sighed again, sagging as she came to the doors to her Quarters. Her throat was dry and painful.
…..My last few weeks with the ship…..
Gretchen turned and rather than entering her room, she moved away, entering a Jeffries Tube and crawling through the familiar passageway, stomach aching and fingers trembling as she realized it was likely the last time.
It was after midnight when everything was over for Kathryn, the welcome party finally winding down. Kathryn had joined it after the Doctor had woken the last group of men, and it had continued for hours. Even now there were groups of her crew lingering in the Mess Hall, and Kathryn had a feeling many of the cliques would not break up until morning. There was so much to catch up on, and it was a joy to hear male voices talking, laughing, even singing.
Except for one, which was silent.
Kathryn frowned. She had been trying to avoid thinking about it, but as she walked back slowly to her Ready Room alone, pressing duties finished, it was inevitable.
Why hasn't he woken up?
The Doctor had told her not to worry, that most likely he would wake within 24 hours, but it was immensely frustrating after nine entire months, to wait even an additional minute for him.
She shook her head violently to clear it, right before the doors opened on the Bridge.
He'll come back Kathryn, get a hold of yourself.
What if he doesn't?, came the responding thought, stomach clenching.
She pushed the fear down, tilting her shoulders back in a Captain's manner.
Her crew was watching.
Kathryn finished her walk across the Bridge, nodding to the skeleton crew that was working. As she arrived at her Ready Room doors, they opened and she gasped. The lights were on full force, there was some of kind music playing in the background, and in front of her couch, flipping through a card deck…..was Gretchen.
Kathryn paused in shock, as the doors closed behind her. Her daughter had not been in her Ready Room at any time recently, and not on her own since before her brief death at the hands of the Jen Hadar nine months ago.
Gretchen looked up and stuttered, staring at her wide-eyed, obviously not expecting company.
"Oh….I uh…..thought you'd be busy," stammered Gretchen, wincing and frowning, looking guilty.
"I was….," said Kathryn in surprise, as the younger woman began to scoop up the beautiful cards. She added quickly, "You're welcome to stay if you want…we used to share this space, I don't see why we couldn't again."
Gretchen looked uncertain, "Computer stop music," she said authoritatively.
"You don't have to," said Kathryn.
"Aren't you working on reports?"
"No, actually," said Kathryn, "I'm finished for the day."
Gretchen stared at her.
"I know it's….hard to believe," said Kathryn, smiling a bit, trying to be unintimidating, "But I actually just came here to think."
I could leave, this was Gretchen's space on her Voyager, I don't want to take it from her but …it'd be nice if she wanted me to stay.
"Of course I have my Quarters, I could leave," offered Kathryn finally, "Unless you want to play Final Card or something?" said Kathryn, trying to keep the hope out of her voice as she gestured to the beautifully embossed cards.
Gretchen tapped her hands on the table for a moment, looking pensive.
I don't want to force her to spent time with me.
"Do you want to explain that book to me?" said Gretchen after a moment, gesturing to Kathryn's leather bound copy of Dante's Inferno, lying on the table.
Kathryn's eyes widened in surprise.
"You offered to someday….." said Gretchen uncertainly at Kathryn's startled face, "Maybe you don't remember, but I suppose if you're going to, someday had better be soon."
She hasn't changed her mind about leaving, thought Kathryn, inwardly taking a deep painful breath. Outwardly she smiled, and sat down on the couch, taking the antique book off the table and into her hands carefully.
"I have to admit I'm surprised," said Kathryn, still smiling, "You do seem to have something of an obsession with this book."
"It was your favorite," said Gretchen, though she averted her eyes oddly, "Of course I wondered about it."
There was a pause for a moment and Gretchen spoke again, voice stronger and eyes staring at Kathryn, "And such an odd book for you, the compassionate, skeptical Starfleet Officer. It's equal parts violent and religious…..full of cruel punishments…..demons and despair…..."
"That really doesn't sound like you," continued Gretchen, eyes strange, "…..I've never gotten it."
"What did she….what did I say about it?" asked Kathryn, correcting herself, referring to Gretchen's mother.
"Not much," said Gretchen frowning, "I never read it until long after she was dead….I knew she loved it but…..I guess she figured I was kind of young. She talked about us visiting Beatrice's portrait in Florence. That's what I remember the most."
Kathryn blinked in surprise, "I, I'm vaguely aware of that painting existing Gretchen but….I'm surprised of all the things I wanted to see in Florence, and of all the things I could've said about my favorite book, that I emphasized that."
"Well….I didn't understand her very well," said Gretchen frowning, looking away.
"I'm sure she had her reasons Gretchen," said Kathryn, making her voice upbeat, "Perhaps she gained a love of Beatrice over the years, after all she was the one who helped get Dante out of Hell, got him home in a way. Just like I've longed to get back to Earth."
"Yeah," said the young woman, gulping, looking away again.
"Well," said Kathryn, watching her daughter intently, seeing that she was uncomfortable, "You said Dante's Inferno is all about cruel punishments, death and despair…..I disagree, it is the Divine Comedy after all."
"Yes," said Gretchen, eyes staring forward and hazy, "God's laughing at us, at our suffering."
"No," said Kathryn, very firmly, "I don't know about God but…..the point of the book is that there is a way out, that Dante gets out, that he escapes Hell. That no matter how badly we get lost in life, no matter where we end up or what happens, we can get out."
"What about the people that Dante sees, that are in Hell suffering, trapped there eternally?" said Gretchen aggressively, "That's most of the book,"
"I suppose I think of them as lessons, in a way," said Kathryn softly, "Warnings."
"It doesn't sound like you to be so deaf to that kind of suffering, being boiled in blood and mutilated. You'd probably beam them all out of there if you could."
"I don't suppose I think of them as real people," said Kathryn gently, "They're characters, fables."
"Dante thought of them as people," challenged Gretchen, "He knew some of them personally."
"I know he did," said Kathryn, "But that's been hundreds of years ago. And he was only writing what he thought, not what he knew of the afterlife…..if there is one."
Gretchen's face fell and she looked away again.
"I'm not saying there's not one," said Kathryn quickly, knowing it was a sore spot, "But Dante couldn't have known what it was like. He wrote about justice, about the consequences of actions, especially the bad ones…..I suppose there's something comforting at times about thinking of justice, there's something very poetic about all of the punishments in the book, they're very appropriate to the lives they led, the actions they took. Murderers swim in blood, traitors are encased in ice..."
"They made their own hell," said Kathryn, feeling her throat tighten as she looked at the wall, voice odd, "They made their own hell, and they're forced to live in it."
"But that's not," said Kathryn, shaking her head lightly, "That's not what the book is really about. No one in hell, not the ones being punished anyway, none of them want to change, even when they know the outcome of their decisions."
Kathryn looked at her and continued, "That's very dangerous, Gretchen. It's very dangerous to know a way you're going only leads to destruction, and to choose it anyway."
"You're talking about me," said Gretchen, sighing and leaning back, looking at the ceiling, "Telling me it's dangerous to give into my inclination to leave Voyager, because I can't escape my past."
"I suppose I….I did give into a little bit of preaching," said Kathryn, taking the cue and making her voice more casual, leaning back also, "I've been bossing people around a long time."
"It'd be easier to tell you to shut up, if I didn't keep on asking myself those questions," said Gretchen slowly, exhaling painfully, "Really asking…..I don't think…..it's just second hand fear from you or anyone. I'm really afraid."
Gretchen paused for a moment, and continued to stare at the ceiling, "I don't want to stay just because I'm frightened to go…..but I also don't want to go because I'm frightened to stay."
"What do you want deep down Gretchen?" Kathryn spoke and then rephrased the words, remembering that was a hard question for Gretchen to answer, "Is there a reason you don't want to stay on Voyager? Other than me and your father?"
Gretchen paused and spoke very quietly, "I've never had much interest in seeing the Alpha Quadrant…..it's the end, isn't it? I want to see this ship get home, see my family be happy….but I'm not going to magically disappear the moment we do. I'll have to watch everything I've ever loved evaporate, and act happy about it."
"Gretchen…." said Kathryn.
"The crew will break up….." continued Gretchen forcefully, "Who knows what will happen to the ship. My home, my family, broken apart for good. And no one will care, everyone will think of it as a happy ending, but me. Leaving now will be less painful."
"I don't know about that Gretchen. I think they're both bound to hurt," said Kathryn, throat tightening with sympathy, "I think it's always a good idea to take the path that will have the most joy, not the one with the least pain."
"I promised Thomas I would see Kronos," said Gretchen stubbornly.
"That promise concerns me Gretchen," said Kathryn, a tight feeling in her gut, "I have a feeling you're not quite telling me the truth."
"I wouldn't lie about a promise to Thomas,"
"No….." admitted Kathryn, "But you would obfuscate it."
"I'm tired of hurting," said Gretchen, in a defeated tone that made Kathryn's heart hurt.
"There might be less dramatic ways of softening the trip back to Earth Gretchen….," said Kathryn, in as upbeat a tone as she could manage, "Like making friends in the Alpha Quadrant …..skipping the return party…..hiding out at the farm for awhile with your grandmother and…."
"No offense," interrupted Gretchen, "But I don't think I can stand someone even more sensible than you."
"I wish you wouldn't judge my family, Starfleet, the whole Alpha Quadrant by me Gretchen," said Kathryn softly, "Much as it's logical to do so. It isn't true."
"I'm nothing but the last echo of a dead timeline."
"You're a living human, with all the rights and agency as anyone else…dreams, connections, a whole universe to discover…or you can stay in San Francisco and never leave if you prefer."
"But not on Voyager."
"That's…..unlikely," said Kathryn softly, "But you're leaving Voyager, because you don't want to leave Voyager?"
"Don't get all logical on me," said Gretchen, leaning her upper body forward, and scoffing a bit.
"I'm not….." said Kathryn quickly, "But Gretchen….." she continued intently, "If you're going to stay in the Empire, stay there because you want to, because you want desperately to be a Klingon warrior, or to join a monastery, or to dance in all the best plays. Don't leave Voyager because you're running….you're fall in the first pit you come across…lots of good has come from running to something, no good has every come from running away."
"What about running away from the Borg?" said Gretchen, eyes wary, but mouth slanted humorously as she turned to Kathryn.
"People running from the Borg are running to life," said Kathryn firmly, holding Gretchen's gaze as her voice deepened, "If I was convinced you were running to life I would have less of a problem with you leaving…..dangerous as it is…but are you sure that's what you're doing Gretchen?"
Kathryn's voice deepened further, "Are you sure you're not running to your death?"
Gretchen looked away, and was silent for a long time.
"Have you ever wanted to escape?" the younger woman asked softly, voice just above a whisper, eyes facing the low table in front of her.
Kathryn breathed in deeply. It was very painful, and she stared for a long moment at Gretchen's auburn hair, bathed in the starlight of the window.
There was a long silence as she remembered cursing the stars outside a different window, scratching her head violently as her dirty long hair fell in front of her, twisting on her bed to avoid the sight. A crouching, deep pain inhabiting every cell in her body.
Gretchen's hair was not dirty, and she was not cursing the stars, but Kathryn knew she felt the same pain all over her being.
That kind of despair looks different for everyone.