IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Voyager, Janeway, Chakotay.
PART FIFTEEN
It was hours later and still Chakotay hadn't returned. Elizabeth had had her meal. Although she ate all her food, she had definite preferences, not liking too much meat. In that respect Elizabeth took after her father. She had had her bath and dressed in an identical set of pyjamas and robe like her mother. Kathryn smiled to herself. After only a week, Elizabeth copied her, down to her day clothes, and had insisted her hair been tied in a ponytail during the day. She had been tucked in and Kathryn had read to her a story. She could see the child was restless even as her eyes began to droop. Chakotay would return, Kathryn knew. Missy had gone out with him and master and dog would enter the house together like they had done before.
"Where is Papa?"
"He'll be home soon, pumpkin. You close your eyes now, okay?"
"And then he's going to tell me a story too."
"That's right. Missy is with Papa and Missy will also take care of Papa."
"Like Mommy is taking care of me?"
"Oh, yes, my angel. You are my little angel."
"I know, Mommy..."
The child had finally fallen asleep and Kathryn dimmed the light before she left the room and went to sit in the lounge. It was still warm in the room and outside it had grown dark and snow had fallen again. Soon the tracks left by Chakotay and Missy would be covered by fresh snow and no one would know that they had plotted a path away from the house.
She was beginning to get worried, primarily as Chakotay hadn't taken his commbadge with him. It made communication difficult. Not impossible, but difficult. She couldn't venture it out in the icy cold. Sighing, she collected an afghan rug from her room and went back to the lounge, pulling the rug over her as she settled herself on the couch in front of the fire. The warmth bathed her in softness, and only occasionally she lapsed into a bout of coughing. Voyager's EMH had warned her that it would happen in her recovery phase. On the first night Chakotay had been with her during the night, administering the antibiotics and suppressants.
"Chakotay, where are you..." she murmured to herself an hour later, still too wide awake and worried that he was still out in the icy cold.
And, as if he heard her, there was a scuffle at the front door. She heard Missy barking and the door opening. She rushed to the hall, the light still at full illumination there.
"Chakotay!" she whispered in urgent, low tones just as Missy jumped up and panted at her new master.
Chakotay looked bedraggled, covered in snow, shivering dangerously. He took a step to her, faltered, then braced himself against the wall. His eyes were dark, haunted, his mouth stiff from the cold. He wore no gloves and the fur-lined hood was pulled off his head. Even his hair bristled white from the frost.
Something had happened to him. Chakotay looked beaten, shattered.
"Chakotay..." she said his name again. She stepped forward to touch him and he shrank back. Her heart sank. 'What is it, Chakotay?" she asked anxiously.
He looked at her, stumbled towards her. She caught him, falling back against the wall as his weight bore against her. She felt his shuddering and wished he'd get into a tub of boiling water to settle the shivering in him. He was spaced out. She pressed him away from her, but her palms rested against his chest.
Every day for three days he walked out and blended with the landscape. Whatever he was looking for, he never found. That was manifest in his restlessness at night, the way he sometimes couldn't look her in the eyes, the stilted conversations at times that she knew he was looking for the right words to say, to speak into her heart all he felt.
Her heart ached for him. His torment was only beginning.
"Kathryn..." he whispered in a hoarse voice, "I am not worthy of you..."
"What are you talking about? You - "
"Not worthy... I have hurt you beyond your strength. I cannot find peace, Kathryn, and I never will."
She did the only thing in those moments which her instinct charged her to act. She removed his anorak and made him take off his boots. Then she led him to the bathroom and there made him remove the rest of his clothes and pressed him into the shower cubicle, opening the taps, mixing the water to just above warm. He stood, facing away from her, the water scalding over his body - little rivulets that burned down and dissolved the coldness that seemed to have ingrained itself into his being. She didn't mind getting wet a little as some of the water splashed on her.
"Peace is a gift, Chakotay. You gave it to me a week ago, and now, I give it to you. Take it, for it will heal you."
But it seemed to her Chakotay wasn't listening. He appeared unaware of the steaming water scalding his body as he sank down and crouched on the floor of the shower in a foetal position, his hands clasped in front of him, his hair plastered to his head, his eyes closed.
"I can't. I have done you a grave injustice. I cannot forget your face, or your look or your words on Voyager. Everything you told me the past few days of your suffering, your torture, your pain, your fear... Everything makes sense, so much so that I am undone for never trusting you, never believing you..."
"It's over now, don't you see? You are punishing yourself."
"It's not over. It's not over, Kathryn. I can't look at you anymore. I see in your eyes your compassion and your forgiveness and I find...your goodness...impossible to bear. I must leave here."
"We have a duty to our daughter, to give her two loving and caring parents - "
"Elizabeth... every day she reminded me of you..."
Then his body convulsed, or it shuddered, from his shoulders down to his feet, to the arms that now hugged his knees to him. Kathryn's heart bled for him. If she were any different in her disposition, she would have hated him, but she couldn't hate him. She could never despise him. She had opportunities to tell him the truth even if it meant she would lose her baby.
She had weighed the safety of her child against his opinion of her and the unborn baby unknowingly won. But Chakotay was hurting, he was hurting so intensely that no words of solace would calm his savaged soul.
"You should hate me."
"Yes, I should. But I can't. Come," she said gently, feeling her cheeks wet as she closed the taps and handed him a towel. "I'll wait in the lounge..."
***********
The lounge carpet might well have had a long furrow in it the way she was pacing. Outside snow had fallen, flakes drifting slowly, silently, covering old tracks, inviting new ones. Quiet had descended. Missy had made herself comfortable as close to the hearth as she could to absorb the warmth from the fire. She had only lifted her head lazily as Kathryn entered then proceeded to ignore her former mistress. Hopefully the dog would remain lazy and not jump up at Chakotay when he made his appearance.
Earlier Kathryn had helped Elizabeth stack all her toys in a large toy box in her room. Katie Kitten's basket was there too, but Elizabeth had wanted Katie Kitten to lie on her bed. Katie Bear, Katie Targ and Katie Clown perched on her bed against the wall.
Kathryn sighed. Chakotay was taking long. She needed to comfort him, try and dispel his dark clouds and make him understand that she couldn't ever hate him. Once she had been told she was not worthy to be a mother and that had hurt her to the quick. For three long years she believed that it was her punishment, the constant ache inside her just wouldn't go away.
She turned when Chakotay entered the lounge. And then she became deathly pale, all blood draining from her face.
Chakotay was dressed. He was also packed, his large duffel slung over his shoulder.
"Chakotay?"
"I can't stay. I owe you a debt I can never repay. I have hurt you too deeply and just saying sorry will never be enough. Please, don't worry about Elizabeth. She is yours... Goodbye..."
Kathryn gaped all the time Chakotay spoke. He made to move to the door. Something in her snapped then. A blinding flash - of her seeing the many, many times she pleaded with this man for clemency, for time alone with her daughter, for his understanding, for his trust. She had had her fair share of mad, impulsive, bad decisions and paid dearly for them. She saw herself signing away custody of her baby to this man, her heart breaking into a million pieces. She saw herself in her ready room trying to motivate to the father of her child her reason for giving her little girl a gift he didn't want. She saw herself trying to explain to him that she couldn't in all of creation have wanted to murder her own baby. She saw his suspicion, his implacable stance to deny her everything that kept Kathryn Janeway's heart hollow for three long years. She saw herself lying in bed at Starfleet Medical, near dying, telling him her story, wanting him to believe her, seeing the shattered expression in his eyes.
She wasn't going to cry, although that urge rose like a wave, deep in her ocean of sorrow, primed like a silent beast ready to strike, rising to the surface.
Don't cry.. Don't cry...
Like
a thousand times before when this man hurt her beyond measure, far beyond her
own strength, she took those tears and banished them back to her ocean of
sorrow.
"What - what did you say?" she asked, as if she never heard him the first time.
"Kathryn, I must leave, for my pain at hurting you is too much to bear..."
"You slimy...bastard," she hissed, enjoying the look of shock on his face, feeding her anger off that look. "You are not going to leave here and hang me out to dry again."
"Kathryn, don't - "
"You bailed on me before, Chakotay. You made me pay for my deeds. You sent to me hell and I have been there ever since. What makes you think all of this is about you?"
"That is not true - "
"I seem to hear those words coming from my mouth when I pleaded for your better judgment and your reasoning, your sense of justice, what's right and wrong. Mostly, I pleaded for your compassion. You are not going to bail on me again just because you think you hurt me so much that you can't look me in the eyes. Like before, you're doing something to make you feel better.
"I have not breathed properly for more than three years, Chakotay. For more than three years I kept seeing your censure, your condemnation of my deeds, your denial of everything we ever had, our friendship, our camaraderie, our love. For more than three years I kept seeing something I believed with all my heart I was denied with you - sharing our beautiful little girl. For all that time on Voyager waiting for Elizabeth to be born, you made me believe I'm not a worthy mother. And you know what, you sick bastard, I believed it. I believed every sordid word that went out against my name because you preferred not to protect me."
"I... Kathryn, please, I do care - "
"Christ, Chakotay. I once believed a story a warrior told of a warrior princess, of swearing an oath that he would be by her side forever and protect her with his life, if it came to that. I searched for that warrior for more than three years and here he is standing before me, wallowing in self-pity."
"Kathryn, I can't look you in the eyes and believe that you can forgive me - "
"Don't lay the guilt on me. I refuse to lie down and let you and your gang trample all over me again. But you know what? The way you're handling this, you should have left me in that hospital to die - "
"Kathryn!" he cried, dropping his duffel and gripping her shoulders. "Don't...don't speak of dying... It's the thought of you dying... I swear I didn't know. There are so many things I did wrong I can't begin to count them. I think back on Voyager, those last months, and I want to die myself seeing my own stupidity, my injustice, my wrongdoing against the finest woman I ever knew. When you told me of your experiences all I wanted to do was keep my head hanging down very low in shame - forever! I believe you, Kathryn. I believe you! I can't forget how you looked when you told me your story. There were so many levels of pain and shades of darkness to it and when you finished, you looked at me with that expression you had on Voyager... Like you were pleading with me again to believe you. And it hit me. It hit me here!" he cried, hitting furiously at his chest. "I don't deserve you, Kathryn. You were true to your feelings. I was not! I - am - not - worthy - you..." he criedd out, emphasising every word.
She lunged at him, beating at his chest with her fists, as hard as she could.
"You're not walking out of here, Chakotay. I swear to God I'm going to kill you - "
She was so angry, her eyes so full of the heat that she hardly noticed how his expression changed. He looked at her stunned, the shock turning gradually to warmth, tenderness that hesitantly ventured to radiate from his face. A great, great hunger that suddenly, unceremoniously turned him from a coward, a self-pitying warrior into a man with a need to hold her close. She sagged against him, feeling the shudders return, shudders she remembered from a night long ago. His arms enfolded her and she felt him press his mouth against her head. She wondered idly whether the dog sensed she had to keep out of their business.
"Out there, on Dorvan...on the way here, I couldn't stop thinking of you dying, not wanting to live. I thought what manner of man would do that to the woman he loved, when it was in his power to change things. I wanted to come long ago, my love, when Elizabeth was a year old. Only, I was so angry still - angry at myself, angry at Sarah for letting me down and letting our baby down, and for still believing you of every crime committed against Elizabeth. But pride kept me away...you cannot know how deeply I regret that, how sorry I am... I want to stay, believe me, but I keep seeing your pain, Kathryn, and I keep thinking that I put it there..."
"I became convinced I would never see you, never see our daughter again. I tried...as hard as I could...to make my peace with that."
"I cannot find rest. These past few days... I know your hell now, Kathryn."
"Stay with me," she told him.
When he didn't reply, she raised her face to him, seeing the hunger still there, seeing his need and seeing mostly that it was going to be her task to convince him that staying would be better than leaving. He looked so endearingly insecure that her heart wanted to break all over again. He was a man, warrior, who failed her, who would take a long time to live down his treatment of her. She was a woman. Her compassion was built-in, her forgiveness unconditional, her humanity forged in the crucibles of two quadrants that sought to destroy her. So was her need to protect one of the strongest men she knew. One day - she hoped that day would come soon - she would stand in front of him again and say "I am proud of you, Chakotay."
But right now, she needed to feed his hunger.
"Well, are you coming or going?" she asked, melting into him, feeling his body leap into arousal.
Her words were unnecessary. Already she was short of breath, giddy with delight as he groaned his response and lifted her high in his arms. He was warm, the cold outside forgotten. With a sigh she threw her arms around him and clutched him tightly, burying her face in his neck. Relief swamped her. She nestled against him, brushing his roughened cheek with her hungry lips. Her mind began to whirl as desire swamped her. She was positive she was floating all the way to her bedroom where he lay her down so gently she wanted to cry.
Kathryn looked deeply into his eyes.
"I'm coming," he said gruffly, the touch of his hand brushing her cheek contrasting to his rough expression of desire.
"If we can't make it together now, " she whispered fervently, "we never will. I love you, Chakotay and I always have. It just needs a major rekindling..."
She smiled as she helped him out of his clothing for the second time that night. When he joined her on the bed, seeking her warmth under the covers, his body ready for her, Kathryn knew that the staying would outweigh the leaving after all. They were intoxicated with passion as he began to kiss her senseless, her lips eager, searching and soft under his. The touch was electrical and blinding, the joy almost too much to bear. When he broke off the kiss, he pulled her into his arms. She felt how he shook, caressing her hair.
"I love you," he murmured over and over as he rocked her. Then he pressed her against the pillows. "Let me show you..."
Kathryn didn't wonder later how her tears came to flow as he made love to her. They were old flames rekindling anew the fires of their passion. Whether all of it was accompanied by deep moans, or impassioned entreaties for mercy and forgiveness, or silent tears that flowed, or occasional wracking sobs in the face of such forceful lovemaking, it didn't matter who invoked the blessing of the deities the loudest.
Some time during the night she woke up in a paroxysm of coughing, sitting bolt upright as the fit wracked her body. Chakotay woke on the instant and the next few minutes she lay revelling in his attention as he administered again an antibiotic and soothing suppressants. When she wanted to cry because he was so attentive, he simply held her close and whispered a hundred endearments.
"Thank you..." she said dreamily.
***************
It was still dark outside when Chakotay woke next to the sleeping Kathryn. He looked at her, stroked her cheek very gently. She had suffered a bout of coughing during the night, bringing home to him the reality of her condition. He sighed, remembering their passion, thinking that it was impossible to leave.
He was realistic, knew that he would spend the rest of his life feeling guilty and making it up to her, but her accusation hit him between the eyes. If he left, she would be devastated a second time. The truth was, he never ever wanted to leave her again.
For three days he had been desperate, trying to find something to hold on to, something that would settle the war in his savaged heart. The further he walked, the more he realised that he was no nearer to attaining peace.
Almost too late, and when Kathryn blew her top at him, he was reminded that they were two parts of one entity and that any resolution, any harmony he wished to reach, he could only do so with Kathryn by his side. There was no other way for him. Whatever he had done to her, however much his own deeds punished her to the point that she felt she could no longer live, Kathryn was going to be part of the healing process, just was he was going to be for her.
He had wanted to leave last night. He had been wracked by guilt, remorse, pain. He believed that he could no longer serve her with those credentials. He had to admit that his motives were based in self-pity and an absolute conviction that she would never forgive him, but even more distressing, that he would never be able to forgive himself.
Last night they sealed their bond and charted the first steps towards healing together. He could no longer leave than deny Kathryn as the mother of their daughter. They were going to be there for Elizabeth for always, as long as they both lived. In the last week he had seen how much the child took to her natural mother. Elizabeth was still amazingly shy. Her reserve, her painful attention to seriousness had been mostly attributed to an uncaring Sarah Hargreaves. Raising her alone as a man who was constantly at war with himself, who rarely had anything to smile about, rarely experiencing joy. He never came away from the habak with an inner feeling of peace. It rubbed off on his daughter. She played in a corner with her toys, was mostly quiet and had a sense of keeping herself occupied. It worried him. Her cousins were young boys who had their own interests and found a little girl tagging behind them distracting. They were just boys, with boys' exuberance for life. So Elizabeth found things to keep her occupied, dwelling in her own little world.
That was on Dorvan. Here, in Kathryn's home, under Kathryn's gentle ministration, her little girl was beginning to come out of her shell, beginning to live again, smile and even laugh out loud.
He wanted to curse Sarah Hargreaves...
"We will have to tell Elizabeth that Sarah Hargreaves gave birth to her..."
He hadn't realised that he had closed his eyes and when he opened them, that Kathryn was staring at him. She touched his cheek tenderly, her eyes still warm from last night's passion.
"You read my mind?" he asked, smiling down at her.
"Your face contorted," she answered gently. "You were thinking of her."
"She brought me nothing but grief," he said, his voice tinged with regret.
"Don't worry. We're together, a team. We'll tackle all of our tribulations together."
He could only stare in mute fascination at her. She looked beloved, blessed, beautiful in the early morning. He groaned as he pulled her into his embrace, unable to stop himself from shuddering at what he almost, almost lost.
His eyes felt gritty when he looked at her again. A smile played on her lips, a gentle, teasing, welcoming smile.
"I know. I love you."
"Welcome home, Chakotay..." she breathed against him.
Her eyes remained incredibly warm as they rested on him - warm and moist and encompassing. He kissed her, reverently. It was impossible to deny her anything. His heart filled with love for her, a great, divine feeling that threatened to burst its banks and overflow. He was always going to be in her power from now on. He had always been in her power. By some terrible circumstance the fates derailed him, but the fates had been kind – they kept him alive by keeping Kathryn's memory, everything that they ever shared with him, lurking in his subconscious and his conscious mind forever. He could never detach himself from her. What happened, happened with the most dire consequences for them both. It felt to him his heart beat as one with hers. He saw a life devoid of all meaning, all wealth, all purpose, all fulfilment if Kathryn was not a part of that life. And so the words rushed from him in complete, throbbing urgency.
"Marry me, Kathryn. Marr – "
Just at that moment a loud wail filled the house, and almost right outside Kathryn's door. Elizabeth was screaming at the top of her head, sobbing bitterly.
"Elizabeth! Chakotay, I must - " Kathryn started, wanting to jump out of the bed.
"You stay in bed. I'll get her..."
But Kathryn was behind him as he rushed to the door to open it. If it weren't that the child needed comfort instantly, Chakotay would have laughed. Elizabeth stood there, Katie Bear under one arm and Katie Kitten in the other. Somehow she tried to told on to Katie Targ as well. The kitten was mewling for all it was worth in sympathy with her little mistress whose tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Elizabeth! Sweetie, what is the matter?" Kathryn asked, bursting past him and bending down to the child's height.
"I looked for Papa…"
"I'm here, honey," he said as Kathryn lifted Elizabeth in her arms, managing to cart the toys and kitten as well to her bed.
"But Papa, I looked for you in your room."
Kathryn gave him a look that said "you explain this".
"Well, sweetie, I'm sorry I wasn't in my room and I know you worried that I might be gone, right?" The child nodded her head, her hair bobbing from side to side. Her tears still glistened and Kathryn made work, kissing her cheek, wiping away the tears, hugging Elizabeth to her. Katie Kitten had already snuggled up to Kathryn, the bear and targ lying at their feet.
"Why are you in Mommy's bed?"
He was quiet for a few seconds.
Kathryn nudged him in the ribs. He was supposed to come up with an answer that a three year old would understand. He had seen this child grow from baby to a stumbling toddler to a child running across a dusty street on Dorvan to meet him. He had seen her so introverted that he considered getting counselling for her. He had seen her sprout her first teeth, take her first steps, say her first words. He had seen her drift so naturally away from Sarah Hargreaves who gave birth to her but never understood the joy of motherhood, that it stunned him. Stunned him and filled him with deep concern that Elizabeth was growing up without a mother. She had been his pride and joy - for a long time on Dorvan the only shining light in his life of darkness. He had seen countless times how Elizabeth inclined her head, or moved her lips, or positioned her arms so that she stood hands on her hips, stubborn as she stood her ground against him.
And every time she did that, she looked so like her mother that his heart wanted to break from the pain of remembrance.
He leaned over to kiss her on her cheek.
"Because I'm going to sleep in Mommy's room from now on."
"And I will always have my Mommy?"
"Always, honey."
"Elizabeth, I have a present for you," Kathryn said, moving the child and kitten and scrambling off the bed to her wardrobe.
Chakotay frowned. On Voyager, when Kathryn asked him, he denied her her right as a mother to give her own daughter a gift. For a moment darkness settled in him again. But Kathryn returned to the bed with a box and placed it down between then, then lifting Elizabeth up to sit next to her. Chakotay's heart hammered. Kathryn never once looked at him while she opened to box. He wondered if she remembered that day in her ready room when she begged him to give something for the baby shower.
Then he gasped. Kathryn had told him about this in the hospital. Regret ran like a river of fiery pain through him. It was the rosewood music box with its mother-of-pearl floral inlay.
Elizabeth clasped her hands together as Kathryn lifted the lid and they heard music. Single notes of a divertimento, just as she had explained.
"I know!" said Elizabeth.
"What do you know, poppet?"
"It's from Mommy to me!"
"Yes, darling," Kathryn said, her eyes resting with infinite tenderness on the child. "My mother - Grandma Gretchen gave this to me when I was very little. Now I give it to my very own precious little girl."
The music stopped when Kathryn closed the box and Elizabeth threw her short arms round her mother's neck.
"My heart is full, my Kathryn," he said hoarsely as he caressed her hair. Elizabeth broke away briefly from her mother's embrace and looked at him.
"My name is also Kathryn," she piped up.
"Yes, honey."
"Kathryn Janeway."
"Well, actually, you know it's Elizabeth Kathryn – "
"No, Kathryn Janeway."
"But we can call you Elizabeth, right?"
Her tears have evaporated. His little girl was engaged in a battle of wills with him. It has been like that since she could talk. She was to be convinced only by thoughtful reasoning. He was treading sensitive ground here.
"Elizabeth, honey. Your mommy is already Kathryn Janeway. How am I going to know who is who?"
"Okay, Papa."
"Good. I love Elizabeth. Mommy picked that name herself."
"Oh."
Elizabeth turned to face her mother and hugged her, planting a kiss on Kathryn's cheek.
"And I can come every morning to Mommy's room?"
"Well – "
Another sharp nudge in the ribs.
"You can come in every morning."
Elizabeth lay her head against her mother's bosom. His heart felt full. They were mother and daughter, irrevocably bound by blood. They were his girls. Elizabeth gave a sigh of contentment.
"I love you, Mommy."
"And me, sweetie?" he asked.
"And you too, Papa."
Later when they all lay spooned together and were almost dozing off again, including Katie Kitten lying at Kathryn's feet and Missy who had decided to enter the room, jump on the bed and rest at Chakotay's feet, Elizabeth Kathryn popped another question.
"Mommy?"
"Yes, sweetheart?" Kathryn answered drowsily.
"Why aren't you wearing your pyjama pants?"
************************
END