It was all
over the ship that Commander Chakotay had decked his wife. No matter that it
was an accident and that she had tried to stop the fight between her husband
and Lieutenant Tom Paris. This one fact remained - a distillation in future
ruminations about the incident: Chakotay hit his wife.
Said
Commander - who had only recently recovered from a terrible accident in which
one crewman died - was overcome with guilt. Lieutenant Tom Paris felt equally
remorseful that the incident happened and this exacerbated the two senior
officers' own complicity in allowing the Captain of USS Voyager to come between
them because her First Officer and her Chief Helmsman got into a brawl right
there in a place usually reserved for individuals who were the victims
of such fisticuffs. It didn't matter much that the Commander had lost all memory
of his experiences on board Voyager and all knowledge that the Captain was his
wife with a beautiful little baby girl whom everyone on the ship wanted to look
after. That was, as far as they were concerned, no justification for taking up
arms against one's beloved. The Commander hit his wife and that deserved all
the heated discussion around private dinners, lunch hour meals in the mess hall
or quick bites between shifts about the whys and wherefores of men behaving in
typical swaggering alpha male manner that did not belong in the twenty fourth
century. Indeed, according to all the female crew on board who
immediately condemned the behaviour of both men - no matter what the
provocation - such behaviour did not belong in any century.
Therefore,
the Captain, a victim of alpha male behaviour and courageous in her attempts to
admonish her husband before she did anyone else - it was said she always saw to
it that her own was in order, to set a good example to the rest of Voyager's
crew - deserved all the compassion and sympathy from her supporters as she lay
in sickbay with a broken nose and two dislodged teeth.
On one
thing they all were unanimous: Commander Chakotay could sure as hell pack a
damned good punch.
Not that
the Commander felt any better about the fact that the Captain had forgiven him,
or that Lieutenant Paris, who could have decked Chakotay in the first round
seeing as how he was not as strong as he used to be before his accident, let
the matter rest. He claimed for the umpteenth time to all who were interested
in hearing it: The Commander's life belonged to him. Regardless of the fact
that Commander Chakotay acceded that niggling little
fact grudgingly in the time when he was in full possession of his faculties,
i.e. before he had his accident and lost his memory, Commander Chakotay had
replied with equal conciseness: "Life? What life?"
The
conclusion they came to was that they were in for a hard time in the next few
months or for as long as it was going to take for Commander Chakotay to regain
his memory. It was clear that his altercation with Lieutenant Paris was borne
more out of his frustration that he couldn't give any account whatsoever of the
last six and a half years of his life on Voyager and with the Captain, his
wife, than out of his old - and unresolved - resentment that Lieutenant Paris
joined the Maquis out of anger against his fates and his father, and not, as
did most of the former Maquis on Voyager, because they were fighting a worthy
cause.
Perhaps the
fight did have one positive by-product: Commander Chakotay settled an old score
with Tom Paris.
*
In the
sickbay the doctor had come online at the precise moment that Captain Janeway
was knocked senseless by Commander Chakotay. The EMH wasted no time in grabbing
the hypospray and sedating Chakotay again. Tom Paris helped him put the
Commander on the bed.
"He's
yours, Mr Paris. Let me see what I can do for the Captain." The EMH spoke
tersely, clearly angered by what had happened. He bent down and lifted Captain
Janeway on to an adjacent bed.
"I am
sorry, Doc, that this has happened," Tom replied as he worked on Chakotay,
clearing the remnants of the blue and black shiners the Commander got earlier
the morning from Baby Jake.
"When
the Commander wakes up, hopefully he will realise the consequences of his
actions," the doctor bit out as he scanned the Captain for concussion. She
had taken a blow to the face, but there was no knowing how badly she could have
been injured. He reset her nose, and regenerated the skin under her eyes. She
was still unconscious and after administering an injection, she groaned as she
started waking up.
"W-What
happened?" she asked as she tried to sit up. The EMH pressed her back, and
she slumped against the headrest.
"You
were in the way, Captain," Tom Paris said. "I'm really sorry you were
hurt. Chakotay went all Maquis on me and - "
"Oh,
dear God...." Kathryn groaned and closed her eyes again.
"He...er...has
not forgotten my less than stellar role in the Maquis," Tom said, his
voice tinged with a little bitterness. Tom had known that Chakotay was still
back in a time when there was so much mistrust and hatred between them. In the
intervening years, so many things had changed, but Chakotay had not known that.
"Tom,
you know the truth," Kathryn Janeway replied. "He's not himself. He -
he is just frustrated..." she said a little lamely, not knowing how to
phrase her response without it coming across that she was defending Chakotay's
actions. She's had a briefing with her senior officers in which she had
forewarned them that Chakotay's behaviour would appear uncharacteristic. Right
now, what had happened, was for Chakotay completely in
character as conduct from a period in his life that was over.
"Don't
worry, I understand, Captain. It's just a pity," Tom grinned as he walked
over to her bed, "that you got between us. I had everything under
control..."
"He's
in a vile mood, Tom - "
"Shall
I keep him sedated for the rest of his life, Captain?" the EMH asked,
peeved at being left out of the conversation. The doctor had moved to
Chakotay's bed and jabbed him again. Seconds later, he, too, woke up groaning.
He looked around him for a few seconds, saw Kathryn
lying on the other bed.
"Kathryn..."
was his instinctive cry as he tried to sit up.
"Now,
Mr Paris, you may leave the sickbay and I'll take myself offline again for the
next few minutes. Captain, you'll be fine now. I've patched you up. And you,
Commander, it’s time someone knocked some sense into you!" the
Doctor said before vanishing in a huff.
"Er...."
Tom cleared his throat as husband and wife stared at one another. Chakotay
looked...ashamed and Kathryn Janeway had a pained, resigned, lost look in her
eyes. "I guess I should leave...." Tom said to no one in particular.
He walked away from them, looking back once when he reached the sick bay doors.
Kathryn and
Chakotay waited until the sickbay was empty. Chakotay slid off the biobed and
walked over to Kathryn. He stood looking long at her. She was sitting up now
and her feet swung over the edge of the bed. There was a short, awkward
silence. She looked at him, her eyes so sad that he touched her cheek tenderly,
wanting to take away her sadness. Her eyes closed and Chakotay pulled her
gently into his embrace. He could hear how she sighed as her arms went round
his waist again.
"Are
you my friend, Kathryn?" he asked hoarsely.
There was
silence, and when he felt her nod, he asked:
"Then
will my friend forgive me?"
She moved
so that she could look at him. Chakotay wanted to die of shame, his eyes even
darker now with new guilt.
"It
was an accident, Chakotay." She had almost wanted to say it was her fault.
He pulled
her to him again and stood long like that, his hand caressing her hair.
"I'm
sorry, Kathryn.
So sorry...."
She moved
so that she could look at him. She pressed her palms against his chest.
"Let
me help you..."
"I - " he started, wanting to reject her offer, then he
said, "I don't know when this will go over, Kathryn. It's eating me
up..."
"I
know. I understand," she said, her mouth curving into a teasing, quirky
smile, "providing I'm not at the receiving end of
your right hook again."
Chakotay
tried to laugh at Kathryn's attempt to lighten the situation, found he
couldn't. He remained serious when he spoke again:
"It
will not happen again, Kathryn..."
She reached
up to touch his cheek with her palm. His hand covered hers.
"I
know. You're an honourable warrior, Chakotay. Your promise is law..."
"It's...just
that I find it so hard, you know, to think of you as - as..."
"...more
than my friend?"
He remained
quiet so long that she tilted her head to request a response from him.
"Yes..."
She cupped
his cheeks with her palms. Her fingers trembled slightly. Her eyes were warm -
warm and sad and hopeful at the same time. When she spoke, her voice was firm,
reassuring.
"I
understand. One day at a time, then, okay?"
Chakotay
smiled. The dimples formed. Kathryn wanted to die.
"One
day at a time..."
****
Over the
next two months Commander Chakotay tried his best to recoup through the ship's
database, the official First Officer's logs, his personal logs and Kathryn's
official logs, his knowledge of the events of six and a half years. It was by
far not the ideal solution, but it had to help in the circumstances. On the
first day he felt comfortable enough to assume his duties again on the bridge
he had been apprehensive, not certain how he would be received.
The senior
officers, however, were the bridge builders Kathryn had assured him of and they
made his merging with them as painless and as comfortable as they could. They
greeted as if he had never had the accident and never suffered amnesia. He felt
good about it, became more and more confident as he sat next to Kathryn in
their command chairs. Some days when she could see the hesitation in his eyes,
or that flash of frustration, she simply leaned across and covered his hand. It
gratified her when she could feel how the tension that built up in him, left him slowly. Then he'd become attentive again to
his task, ask questions, offer solutions. He came up
with unique ones because his Maquis strategies of fighting and getting out of
sticky situations in space battles and evasive maneuvers remained uncorrupted.
He remembered so many of those that Kathryn had sworn he had never thought of
in the last years, that she constantly cast surprised glances at him. The
senior officers became so aware of this that during one run when Voyager had to
take cover from a small, hostile fleet of vessels they came across in Sector
6574, Harry Kim asked Chakotay direct and not Kathryn for any ideas on evading
the enemy.
Chakotay
routinely noted these ideas in his official logs for future reference and use.
"I
think, Captain," Tom Paris suggested one time when they exited the bridge
together, "that the Commander is better now than before -
"
"For
saying that I ought to consign you to the brig again, Tom," she replied,
but there was a twinkle in her eyes. "I do need my Chakotay back...all of
him..." she continued on a more sober note.
"And
you will, Captain. You will."
It became
easier for him to deal with the crew. It was something strange getting to know
them all over again, and mostly they never reminded him of things that he
should know about them. It helped a great deal and although it was not the
ideal, Chakotay didn't feel so detached as he had
before. His first meeting with Seven, however, had
been something of a trauma. He had walked into the mess hall and saw her
sitting with Harry Kim. He stiffened noticeably, and a strange sense of having
known her before overcame him. He left the mess hall hurriedly and when he
entered the nursery where Kathryn was busy feeding
"What's
wrong?" she asked.
"That
girl - Borg, Seven of Nine...?"
"Yes, what about her?"
"Why
do I feel connected to her?" He had frowned deeply when he spoke.
"Chakotay,
sit down," Kathryn said firmly. She held his hand when he sat down in an
easy chair. "We had you connected in the regeneration chamber..." He
nodded. He had read that in the logs. "But you had also been connected
before, assimilated in a way, and I suppose that was what brought it
on..."
"I...don't
like it, Kathryn..." he said with quiet desperation.
She smiled
gently. "You never did..."
That had
been one of the minor ripples. Chakotay had slipped quite easily into the
duties that had been his to begin with.
"It's
because I have been a First Officer before, Kathryn," he told her late one
evening while they were both going over ship's reports and Chakotay was
studying to reassign duties to various crewmembers.
"I know.
You're doing fine, Chakotay," she replied, smiling as she said so. She
appeared a little more relaxed, especially since he made a serious attempt not
to disturb her with the occasional headaches he still got and the dreams that
remained blankets of mists that he couldn't remember afterwards. About that he
remained quiet.
"So, I
was responsible for severing Seven of Nine from the Borg Collective..." he
said again one day.
"You
hated her in the beginning."
"I'm
certain I still mistrust her. They don't change their nature. Scorpions."
"We
had an almighty argument about that, Chakotay."
"You're
going to tell me I disagreed with your decisions, right?"
Kathryn
smiled and nodded. He leaned over and touched her cheek. "I am enjoying
getting to know you again, Kathryn," he said soberly, his face serious as
he looked her in the eyes. Her eyelids fluttered and she pushed a strand of
hair away from her face, becoming suddenly engrossed in the PADD she was
studying.
Chakotay
sat back and studied Kathryn. He spoke the truth, he realised with some
insight. The last two months had been a voyage of discovery for him. Kathryn
was at pains not to pressure him too much; she kissed him lightly on the cheek
when she retired for bed. It had become a nightly ritual and he wondered
whether they had always done that. She liked to soak in a tub too, and he found
that somehow incongruous with the woman who commanded Voyager with such
firmness and strength.
"It's
one of my vices, Chakotay. You were very quick to find that out," she said
the first time he had seen her come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped
round her. She had not been embarrassed, but Chakotay had not known where to
look. She had walked up to him and squeezed his hand gently, reassuring him
that it was okay.
"On a
place called New Earth, right? We were stranded there for almost four
months," he had said reflectively. He didn't pursue the matter again when
he saw how Kathryn's eyes had clouded a little. In any case, he himself
couldn't quite explain that feeling of sadness, like there was a void in his
being which he need to fill, when he mentioned New
Earth. He knew after that night he mentioned it, that it had to be a turning
point in their relationship. If not a turning point, then something that must
have remained a burning issue between them.
Yes, he
enjoyed getting to know his wife and baby again. Especially
Kathryn. She had such expression in her eyes. He knew she was angry when
her eyes turned from blue-grey to deep grey. That was when the last race they
encountered made negotiations so difficult and she had trouble keeping her
calm. Afterwards, when Voyager left that planet's space, she had returned to
their quarters, still simmering. He sat beside her on the couch and rubbed her
arm, knowing that even though she might not want to talk immediately about it,
she would later. He just kept on stroking her arm in a reassuring gesture that
after a while he could see how the tension left her.
One
evening, when Tara had been particularly fractious, crying the whole evening,
he had taken the baby from Kathryn and rocked Tara until she became quiet
again, falling asleep eventually in his arms. He had lain on his back on the
couch and cradled
"It's
what you did all the time just before the accident, Chakotay," she said
when he frowned at her tears. But her eyes had shone and he knew it was because
she didn't tell him any of it; it was an action that had come spontaneously,
something he always did.
One evening
she was working late, catching up on work she had left to do the last minute. .
"Here,
let me," he offered when he saw her rubbing her neck.
She turned
and looked at him strangely. He didn't ask, but knew that she remembered a
previous occasion when he had massaged her shoulders.
"Oh,
that's so good," she murmured as he rubbed her tense neck muscles until
they were pliant and relaxed again.
"I
must have done this before, Kathryn," he said softly, his breath warm in
her neck. She turned again to look at him and just nodded.
Several
nights in the last two months he woke up in the dead of night again, sweating
profusely, gasping for air. He must have then cried out in his sleep. Then
Kathryn rushed to his side and rocked him until he became calm again. There
would be no words spoken, but her touch and embrace, the way she held him was
so reassuring that he was able to fall asleep again. And, he didn't go out to
sock Baby Jake afterwards in the holodeck.
That he
couldn't piece together the missing piece of his puzzle still remained to him
the source of his greatest frustration, but he learned to temper it, for he
knew that his behaviour, his anger that had been so prevalent in the beginning,
was affecting them, and Tara sometimes burst wildly into tears when her parents
came to heads in their quarters. They'd quickly back down and rush to the baby,
Kathryn always so sweet in letting him pick Tara up and consoling the crying
child. Then he'd feel the same guilt he had the day he knocked Kathryn
unconscious, because their argument upset the child. Later he would sit by
Kathryn and just hold her hand and wipe tears that sometimes escaped down her
cheek.
He still
slept on the couch. About joining Kathryn in their bed was a thought that still
troubled him. He had to take it one day at a time, like she said that day in
sick bay after he knocked her out. One day at a time. He was doing it, all
right, and getting more and more comfortable being in her company, sitting next
to her, sometimes even holding her close in his embrace. On those occasions he
could feel how she wanted to do more, press closer into him. She always backed
off when he stiffened a little, not certain if he should follow through with
kissing her like he nowadays wanted to do very badly. Perhaps she was still
thinking of that first day when he had done so purely to test if he could
remember her that way.
Chakotay
felt better now as he got to know her better and knew when to back away. He
wanted to kiss her though. She was petit, beautiful, a little spitfire on the
bridge and he knew that whatever there had been between them that had gone
wrong, must have been because she found her duty greater than her personal
life. That much he could gather from her official logs. When he read those, he
wondered every time how she could make time for Kathryn Janeway, for the warm
and vibrant woman he could see she was, especially in their quarters where she
could let her guard down. Reading those logs made him realise how difficult her
task was, how great her mission to take them home, how much she lost of herself
because she gave everything as the Captain of Voyager.
Chakotay
sighed deeply. He came to realise that for Kathryn Janeway to make any sort of
personal commitment such as giving her heart to a fellow officer, her equal;
marrying and having children by that man was to have done something incredibly
courageous. It could not have been easy for her. He knew that in his real life
on board Voyager he could not have been that aware of Kathryn's almost
impossible task, something which many would have deemed insurmountable, as he
was now, when he could read her logs with a sort of detachment, precisely as if
he were a third, impartial person on the outside looking in on the lives of
Janeway and Chakotay. He knew he understood more now than he had in that life
he couldn't remember.
Was that
why there had been such a long time between his first offer of marriage and
their marriage vows only two years ago? What were the circumstances two years
ago that made it different from that first year when according to B'Elanna, he
had proposed to Kathryn? Seska was no longer a factor in their equation, so
what was between the lines that Kathryn wasn't telling him and that he couldn't
sense anywhere reading the logs?
Something
was missing, and like the missing pieces of a puzzle they teased him with
maddening regularity that gave him such severe headaches which he tried as best
to hide from her and the doctor. He knew the best option was to stop thinking
about the past and get on with this new life he was forced to assume. At some
point when he felt confident enough that Kathryn wouldn't think he had ulterior
motives, he would join her in their bed; he will kiss her and he will make love
to her.
That
thought made him smile. But it was late and Kathryn had risen some time ago
from the couch.
"Good
night," she said softly and she bent down to kiss him. She smelled so good
and he had trouble holding back. With some effort he managed to say just as
lightly, "Good night, Kathryn..."
***
Chakotay
woke from a sluggish, drug-like slumber when he heard crying. Thinking it was
Tara, he jumped up, awake immediately, and was surprised when
"Chakotay..."
she gave a deep sob.
For a few
seconds Chakotay stood rooted to the floor, and when Kathryn cried out again,
he sat down on the edge of the bed and shook her gently awake.
"Kathryn...Kathryn...wake up..."
Kathryn
opened her eyes slowly. She was lying on her back, the cover thrown off her and
he fought to control his breathing when her creamy breast was revealed as the
neckline of her nightie slipped down. But Kathryn stared at him with unseeing
eyes as if she were seeing someone - him - in some hazy dream or not really
seeing him.
"Help
me, Chakotay..." she cried. Where was she? he
wondered. What could make her voice sound so desperate, so forlorn and her eyes
so full of fear?
"I'm
here, Kathryn," he soothed as he lifted her to a sitting position and
rocked her the same way she did so often with him in the last two months. His
hand caressed her hair, and he smoothed the dampness away fro her face.
"What's wrong...?"
"I saw
you....you were crying, Chakotay..." she cried softly as she nuzzled her
face against his soft terry robe. Her arms clutched tighter around his waist.
"Where,
Kathryn? Where did you see me?" he asked.
"I was
injured and I saw you...there were tears...You never spoke about it
afterwards...of your tears, never... And I - I never - "
she sobbed again before she continued, "I never told you I saw
you..."
He couldn't
understand what she was referring to but he kept rocking her gently, knowing
that she was fully awake and that she needed him to be there with her. His spoke in soft, gentle, calming tones, like he did with
"We
crashed on a planet and I - I was dead...for a few minutes..."
Chakotay
nodded. He had read the logs pertaining to that accident. What were official
logs but that it left out the emotional repercussions to those involved?
Kathryn must have suffered, and he must have suffered... He felt an immense
empathy suddenly for Kathryn, a blazing sensation in his heart that he could
have reacted in the way Kathryn just said. He must have loved her deeply, and
he must have been intensely afraid that he would lose her forever.
"I was
afraid I could never tell you again...."
"Tell
me what, Kathryn?" he asked.
"That-
that my life was empty without you. That - that I would - that I would be too
late - "
"Kathryn,
we married. We have a little girl. She's over there, see? She's sleeping
peacefully. And I'm here, with you. It wasn't too late, Kathryn. Never to late, you hear me?"
He had no
idea where the words came from that he could so easily console her with, but
she looked at him such pathetic pleasure in her eyes that he pulled her into
his embrace again.
"I
never told you...I should have, Chakotay. It was too late...You - "
"Shhh...Kathryn,
everything will be alright, you'll see. Everything..."
"It
was all my fault, Chakotay. I loved you for so long,
so hopeless, so long..."
Kathryn
staring whimpering again and it was all Chakotay could do to try and comfort
her: he slid under the covers with her and spooned her body to his. She curled
herself so naturally into him that he was certain she was not aware of it, but
it worked. Kathryn's body relaxed and her breathing became easier again, more
calm than in the first throes of her dream. A long time he lay like that with
her, wondering what had made her so afraid. If they did marry eventually, why
were these things troubling her still?
"Chakotay..."
He thought
she had drifted into sleep again. He was still awake and too aware that
Kathryn's body was so soft and smooth as he pressed her to him. She had taken
his hand and covered her breast with it. Chakotay was not surprised anymore.
The action was natural, as if they had lain like that every night since their
marriage. Only, he had no recollection or sense of it. Just, that it felt so
right. It was good enough for him. Kathryn had given a deep sigh and became
quiet again.
"Chakotay...?"
"Yes,
Kathryn?"
"Don't
- don't leave me...please..."
Was that
what her nightmare had been about? He pressed her closer to him, and he felt
for the first time a deep stirring in his loins. Trying to bank it down, he
gave up. This was his wife, but right now, she needed his solace, his nearness,
and that was enough, more than enough.
"I'm
not going anywhere, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath fanning her
neck.
Kathryn
gave another deep sigh and then everything was quiet. When Kathryn's eyes
opened again, it was morning and she sensed something. She was lying on her
back, and his face was close to hers. His leg was draped over hers. Chakotay
smoothed a few strands of hair from away from her face. For a moment she was
disoriented, not remembering why he was in bed with her, but her heart beat
wildly with excitement. He was with her in their bed and his body felt so warm
and reassuring against hers. It felt...right. Then she remembered how she
distraught she had been during the night. Her eyes became soft at the way he
looked at her. There was a question in his eyes, as if he had been mulling over
some things all the while he had lain next to her and comforted her. With some
insight she realised that he hadn't slept at all.
"Chakotay?"
"Tell
me, Kathryn," he asked without preamble, "what happened two years
ago?"
Chakotay
looked expectantly at her, holding his breath as he waited for an answer.
Kathryn closed her eyes for a few painful seconds and when she opened them
again, they were filled with tears. She raised herself on her elbow. Her
fingers traced the outline of his tattoo. She bent down and kissed him, her
lips brushing his lightly.
"I
asked you to marry me, Chakotay," she said softly. He was stunned for a
second, and before he could respond, she added, "And, you rejected my
offer."
"Just
like that?" he asked.
"Just like that."
***