Wanted: a miracle
a story of Christmas and of hope
by
vanhunks
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters Janeway and Chakotay.
SUMMARY: Sometimes the best gifts are given to those who had been the most patient in waiting for them.
NOTE: Trust me. It's all I ask.
The stories in this series:
PART ONE
"There, that should do it," the EMH declared as he patted Seven of Nine's shoulder and stepped back to the console to study the readouts once more. "You're in perfect health, Seven. See me in a week's time. You have to remain at Headquarters until I have completed the final tests and ensured that you can relocate safely to another star system for any length of time."
"Understood."
"Commander, make sure Seven keeps to the special diet I have prepared for her "
"I will, Doctor..."
"I am pregnant, Doctor, not an invalid," Seven replied with her old terseness, but her eyes were warm. Her response brought a smile to Kathryn's lips. Seven's demeanour was almost uncharacteristic if Kathryn didn't herself witness how the former Borg had grown and in the last month especially, under Chakotay's guidance and ministrations blossomed into womanhood. The doctor wasn't finished with Seven.
"Nevertheless, you're mostly human now, Seven, and dare I say it, highly susceptible to the same mood swings during pregnancy that every other woman in the universe - "
"Species 3425 did not have mood swings."
"Seven," Chakotay sighed with exasperation, "please, the doctor is right."
Seven relented a little and gave a sigh. Then she smiled, a smile that transformed her aloof features and enhanced her cool beauty.
"When is our baby due, Doctor?" she asked suddenly as if a stray thought just struck her. She sat up on the biobed and Chakotay moved closer to her and both of them looked expectantly at the doctor. It didn't escape Kathryn how Seven's eyes lit up as Chakotay's hand rested lightly on her arm.
"You finally came round to asking," the doctor replied laconically. "Usually those are the first things young mothers-to-be ask, especially when they're first time mothers. You'd think for a former Borg drone who added the biological distinctiveness of Earth's humans to her own, that Seven of Nine would also - "
"Doctor..." Chakotay's voice broke into the doctor's rambling. The EMH smirked.
"Around Christmas. A fitting gift for you two," the EMH said. He gave a little snort and moved to the console where he studied the details of Seven's progress. "Hmmm...still too small. Only a week. Soon, she will grow - "
"A female infant?"
"Another question you didn't ask. Yes, it's a girl. Congratulations, Commander, Seven..."
"Thank you, Doctor. We're relieved all is going well," Chakotay replied with heartfelt relief as he reached for Seven's hand.
Seven's eyes met those of Chakotay and a softness came into them. She held her hand trustingly to him and he covered it with both his. Chakotay cocooned Seven with his dimpled smile. For a few seconds, the EMH and Kathryn Janeway receded as husband and wife communicated wordlessly. Chakotay touched Seven's cheek, briefly caressing it before he looked at the EMH who nodded that she could get up.
There was a hushed silence in the sickbay as Seven of Nine got up from the bed and smoothed the already close fitting catsuit over her hips. Kathryn Janeway smiled as Seven approached her. She thought absently that the super flat planes of Seven's belly would soon swell with the fullness of child. Kathryn's heart lurched wildly, but she kept smiling.
For
you, Chakotay...I did this for you...
The doctor and Chakotay remained in the background, Chakotay looking a little apprehensive as Seven stopped in front of Kathryn. Seven's face was aglow, the shine in her eyes, the softness and translucence of her skin and the gentle smile that always seemed to hover at the corners of her full mouth gave her a serene appearance. Kathryn tried to shut out the images of Chakotay and Seven together, tried with ruthless force to blank out the sounds of their lovemaking. The second that endured in which Kathryn knew her inside was about to shrivel and die of the pain, passed as she drew on her old strength and looked directly into the once passive eyes of Seven of Nine.
"I'm happy for you, Seven of Nine," Kathryn said, smiling as she covered Seven's hand with hers, giving it an encouraging squeeze. "Truly happy..."
"Thank you, Captain. Chakotay and I are very grateful for your encouragement and support."
Seven turned to look at her husband and Chakotay came to stand next to her. His arm went round Seven's shoulder, the quick glance he gave his wife was filled with tenderness. Then he reached to take Kathryn's hand.
"Thank you, Kathryn. For everything you've done for us. I will never forget that," he said quietly.
Kathryn gave Chakotay her brightest smile.
"You're my best friend, Chakotay. The best I could ever have. I wish you both good fortune in your new life together. I mean that, Chakotay."
Only a brief second, Chakotay's eyes turned very dark as he looked at her and Kathryn wondered fleetingly about missed opportunities and golden moments that were over all too soon. She made her choice and Chakotay made his. With her assistance and support, they could leave Federation space and enjoy a fulfilling life together with their baby. Kathryn had an image of Chakotay holding their baby with an indulgent - she might just learn to be indulgent, Kathryn thought without rancour - Seven of Nine looking on. She pictured for a painful moment Seven of Nine nursing her baby. Kathryn gave a deep sigh and nodded her dismissal.
"Come, Seven. We have to transport to Headquarters," Chakotay said quietly as he placed his hand against Seven's back.
"Captain, wait..." Seven stood suddenly still just as she started to walk and turned to face Kathryn. Chakotay turned too, frowning as he looked from Seven to Kathryn.
"Yes, what is it, Seven?" Kathryn asked softly.
"I - with your permission, Captain, I would like to name our daughter Kathryn..." Another hushed silence ensued. Kathryn froze, then the tears formed in her eyes as she smiled at Seven. "I - I am sure Chakotay will agree, Captain," Seven said uncertainly as Kathryn hesitated. Chakotay didn't look any better. His eyes looked fevered as he waited for Kathryn's response.
"If that's okay with you, Kathryn..." he whispered.
"Chakotay...Seven..." she started, "I would be honoured. Thank you..."
Seven gave a relief sigh, smiled broadly at her husband and then turned to Kathryn again.
"Thank you, Captain. It means much to us."
This time Kathryn just nodded. They turned to leave. Kathryn held her hands stiffly at her side, balling them as she waited for the sickbay doors to close behind the couple. Only then she turned to the EMH and stared at him for an eternity through a haze of tears.
She felt herself breaking...breaking... All the tension of the last hour, the unbearable pain of looking at a happily married couple come to confirm their pregnancy; the supreme, superhuman effort to mask all of it and appear for all the world that she was overjoyed; the mask she had to keep in place that pulled tighter and tighter, causing her facial muscles to strain to their limit as she smiled her way through and congratulated and gave assurances and best wishes, everything fell away.
Kathryn Janeway was stripped of everything. There was nowhere to run, no place to hide as she looked at the doctor. No pretense, no affectations anymore. She could breathe again normally and be herself: unhappy, distraught, elemental in her grief at losing the man she loved, showing all that was vulnerable about Kathryn Janeway.
Her lips trembled, and only vaguely was she aware that the doctor braced her as she pitched forward and his arms were ready to welcome her with her pain. She wept for a few minutes with heartbreaking pain. The doctor held her and all the while her body shuddered he remained quiet. When at last she collected herself, he made her sit on the biobed and prepared a hypospray.
"There's nothing wrong - "
"Captain, I beg to differ. We're the last to transport to Headquarters. You need to look like you have never witnessed this scene." He injected her quickly. "It's only a very mild relaxant. Nothing to worry about. You have to prepare for all the debriefings and welcoming parties and look the part of a general entering the gates of the city in triumph. You're home from the wars, Captain. Home..."
"Thank you, Doctor." Kathryn gave a deep sigh, her eyes still filled with a sheen of tears.
"Captain, may I say what you've done - "
"I've done for my best friend, Doctor," Kathryn replied tersely, suddenly tired of everything and just wanting to crawl home to Indiana and die there.
"Because you love him, you have given Commander Chakotay and Seven of Nine the precious gift of being a family. Commander Chakotay made the choice. You didn't have to do what you did, Captain. You could have wrecked his chances with Seven. But you didn't, because you love him, and so you gave more than what was asked of you..."
Kathryn looked at him. Her first instinct was to deny his accusation, to scream at him to stop carrying on about what she had done. She wanted no glory, asked for none and didn't expect any. She brought her crew home, joined Chakotay and Seven in marriage and very soon she'd set foot on Earth for the first time in seven years. Yes, she wanted to scream that at the doctor. She was no hero; she did what she had to do to keep her crew happy and if they asked her to do more, she would, if only to wipe out the old feelings of guilt she's had for so long about stranding them in a lonely, alien, unfriendly quadrant.
Then she saw the compassion in the doctor's eyes and sighed deeply as she touched his shoulder. She had known him for seven years; there had been rough times - too many to count - and most of those times he had been her confidant, the sentient hologram who could patch up a broken body like nobody she has ever seen. And sometimes, like now, he was just there to offer his shoulder to her. He didn't need her anger right now, nor did he need to see her wallow in self-pity. Now, more than ever, she realised how much he had meant to her, and for the crew.
He was right...so very right. He knew about her feelings for her first officer. He knew everything, even that she had finally decided to tell Chakotay about how she felt about him. Then she saw them together - Chakotay and Seven. Later, she heard them. Chakotay and Seven. Then, the decision to tell him became only an aborted idea because she saw how Seven loved Chakotay.
They had wanted her to be the first to hear the good news of the child. A child to be born to Chakotay and Seven of Nine... Almost, she wanted to cry again, then resolved to keep her tears at bay forever. She looked at the doctor and nodded.
"Yes...yes," she whispered, looking away, her voice quivering with emotion. "I did it for him, because I love him..."
She felt his hand on her shoulder and turned to face him again. She graced him with a wan smile.
"Captain, what you've done for Commander Chakotay and Seven of Nine..." The EMH paused and pursed his lips. Then it burst from him, and Kathryn could swear he was very angry. "Captain, I've seen you beat the Borg, beat Species 8472; I saw you face every imaginable danger and adversity no Captain in Starfleet has ever had to face. I saw you on this biobed, lying near death and Commander Chakotay praying and commanding that you stay alive for them. I've seen you extend kindness even to those who didn't deserve your kindness and mercy. There is not a man or woman on Voyager who can say they were not led by the finest, most upstanding commanding officer they've ever had the privilege to serve under. You let the man you love beyond your very own life go to another woman, doing something that - "
"Doctor, enough - "
"But what you've done today, Captain... I swear to every known god in the universe, it was the bravest thing you've ever done..."
***
END PART ONE
PART TWO
A silence hung in the air as Kathryn Janeway stared out the window. She shivered, although there was a warm, golden orange glow about the room. Outside the landscape was stark, cold and aloof, a white carpet of snow covering the ground. Still, the sky was clear, and just minutes before, snowflakes had drifted down noiselessly to land on the eaves of the porch, the roof, the branches of trees. Even her favourite tree loomed like a sinister silhouette in the distance. The old swing that they never bothered to take off since she and Phoebe had outgrown the childish exuberance of finding swings enjoyable, hung quite still, an indication that the wind that had blown most of the day had died down.
The sky was now clear, and the stars perched in the heavens, sparkling like newly polished diamonds. Still, still as only a deep winter's night could be, it was. Tonight, there was a moon and in the light of the silvery moon Kathryn could see at the end of the ground how the water of their pond glistened. Shivering again as if she had been standing outside in the freezing cold, Kathryn rubbed her arms. Her face was raised to the sky, where the lonely moon and the stars became her only companions. The stars radiated their glow in slow swells, to darken and then flare again. Once, Kathryn thought that they listened to her thoughts and nodded in agreement or sympathy or pity or sadness whenever she felt a deep melancholy inside her. Then she gave a mental shrug and thought that scientists had no business imagining that the stars communicated with them.
She vaguely felt Missy rubbing against her leg and bent to touch the dog, but not looking away from the moon. Missy was offspring of her first dog Molly, and looked every inch as regal and hauty as Molly did. Still, she was five years old, and excessively lively and glangly. Kathryn touched Missy's head and the setter whined plaintively, looking at Kathryn with sad eyes.
"I guess you're as lonely as I am..." she whispered.
Missy gave a little whimper as if her mistress had spoken to her.
"Oh, Missy..." she whispered as she bent to hug her setter, "you're all I have..."
Then Kathryn turned abruptly and looked about the room. The lounge looked like Christmas, she thought. In the corner, near the wide hearth was the tree she had painstakingly decorated all evening. She had crawled into their loft and hauled out all the decorative ornaments for the young pine she had chopped herself. It had taken a few minutes' journey in her shuttle to Pine Haven and got permission to chop a tree. The overseer had sneered when he saw the size of the pine she earmarked but she had ignored his obvious inference that she couldn't wield an axe. Not for her the easy route of taking a phaser and just cleanly cut through the stem of the pine at its base. She wanted authenticity and that was what she was going to get. So, the pine, unevenly hacked at its base, was lugged by her to the shuttle, and she brought it home. That had been two days ago.
Gretchen Janeway-Ponsonby had given her a curious stare.
"You know we always send for one, Kathryn," she remarked conversationally.
"And you know we never get exactly what we want - "
"Er, yes," Gretchen responded drily. "More like what you want..."
"You can't blame me, Mother. I've been away too long," Kathryn replied, ignoring what she thought was a little dig from her mother.
"Kathryn..."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"It's okay," Gretchen sighed.
Kathryn had been out of breath by the time the tree was finally secured in its large pot and standing at least erect. Her mother had just given an elegant little snort and left the lounge to occupy herself elsewhere.
The moon seemed to drift slowly away, and the light that it threw on the landscape began to wane. The darkness and complete stillness simply settled into something deeper and more solemn. Kathryn pulled herself away from the window and walked to the tree. Missy scurried after her and settled herself at Kathryn's feet. Kathryn touched the tender pine needles, breathing in its scent. The pines were still very green and smelled fresh, though she knew that sometime soon - preferably by the twelfth day of Christmas - it would have to go. There was really no one to enjoy the tree. With one dog and three adults in the house - a year ago Gretchen Janeway married her Admiral Adam Ponsonby - the house struck an air of solitude. Phoebe popped in from time to time, "Just to slow down in beautiful Indiana." No noise and high-spirited children around to shriek and gape at the tree and still make everyone believe in the power of Santa.
The tree was decorated with flickering lights. There were colourful, gleaming baubles the size of her fist dotted over the tree. Some baubles were frosted in gold, silver, and various shades of red; others had the diamond-mirror effect looking like miniature strobe lights shooting off light sparks whenever they moved. Little candy canes, miniature stars of David, and strings of satin ribbon adorned the branches. She had decided not to string popcorn this year. Kathryn gave an inward grin. Last year an open front door invited a posse of squirrels that cleaned off all the corn. Missy darted all over the lounge to get them and ultimately did more damage than the squirrels. Gretchen Janeway had guffawed at the spectacle and then left it to her daughter to shoo the little varmints out of the house.
"That's in lieu of the children that are supposed to be in this house."
Kathryn had given her mother a wounded look and when Gretchen saw her reaction, she stopped, understanding dawning in her own eyes. Later that morning there had been an uneasy, difficult conversation with her mother in which she stated calmly that she didn't think she'd ever have children.
A little angel wearing a white gown with angel sleeves and unfurled wings perched on top of the tree. She had been a only five years old and Phoebe a baby when their father had come home on Christmas Eve and brought the angel with him. The angel had become tradition but now the thing looked worn and torn. Still, she had wanted the old angel; it was a sentimental journey to her childhood days; days when their father had been home and they had been ecstatic that he was there. Once, on Voyager, she had told Chakotay about their tradition of the tree and how battered their little angel look, and how she and Phoebe had been adamant that they didn't want it removed.
Kathryn gave a little sigh. Who knows, one day she might put a new angel there.
Just not now. She didn't have the energy, the inclination or the motivation.
The fireplace was large and another old tradition her father had. It burned real wood. Not for him the artificial "phaser it and burn it" variety most people used. She had to admit that the warmth in the room was comforting, glowing and fuzzy and...natural. She noted idly how low the fire was burning. Sometime she knew, she'd had to brave it out to the side of the house and carry an armload of wood inside.
Settling herself on the couch and pulling her robe tighter round her, she stared longingly into the fire. Smiling indulgently she patted Missy who jumped on the couch after her. Kathryn's face glowed in the warmth of the flames. When she had been standing near the window minutes ago, it had been colder that side of the room. Now, she could thaw a little again. A gentle smile crept to her mouth as she looked under the tree at the wrapped gifts neatly stacked there. Even Missy was now lying quietly as if she waited for some signal, like the pealing of bells, or the prospect of a tasty treat so that she could jump up and wish everyone...or one...and expecting to be presented with a gift. There was a present from Mark, one from Tom and B'Elanna, one from Phoebe and one from Gretchen. Adam Ponsonby also left her a gift. All her gifts to the others had been despatched days ago, before she had come down to Indiana. She had known her mother and Adam Ponsonby would not be home Christmas Eve, attending as they did every year, the midnight service held at Headquarters in the small chapel there. She had elected to stay home as she had done last year too.
But last year...
Last year she had received the communiqué just before Christmas and after that she had been unable to prevent herself sinking again into the melancholy that had dogged her so often in the last five years. Her mother and Adam had given her concerned glances, Phoebe had been a little more forthright, saying succinctly, " Forget the man and get a life". Still, her sister's directive had been tempered by the flash of worry in her eyes too. Kathryn had not told anyone, yet they sensed, or knew through others who were on Voyager, about her first officer...
She hadn't wanted to see anyone tonight, or tomorrow for that matter. Seeing Tom and B'Elanna with little Miral and three year old Owen and with a third baby on the way, just brought back memories she wanted to knock right back into the relegation chamber of her heart. Kathryn rubbed her eyes tiredly. Tom had contacted her while she was still in her office, preparing to lock up and head for home.
"You're not coming over for Christmas, Admiral?" Tom asked, looking a little surprised that she turned down their invitation. She had gone the first two years and after that... Rather than spoiling the fun which try as she might, she just could not bring herself to enjoy herself nor appreciate the deep, spiritual blessing of the season of goodwill, she elected to stay away and keep herself busy preparing for the new year's rosters.
"Not this year, Tom. I have things to do - "
"On Christmas Day?"
"You know how it is, Tom." She had clamped up and Tom must have sensed that she hadn't wanted to continue in that vein.
"Fine, then, Admiral. I must tell you Miral will miss her favourite aunt and godmother. I did put her present from you under the tree, though. She's been chomping at the bit trying to open it before Dad dons his Santa suit." Kathryn smiled at the image of Admiral Paris in a Santa suit.
"Tell Miral I will visit in the new year. Give B'Elanna my blessings. When is the baby due?" she asked.
"June. B'Elanna is glowing. She swears the baby will look like me this time."
Kathryn had laughed at Tom's comical expression. Miral looked mostly Klingon, something B'Elanna grappled with when she had been pregnant with their first-born. With Tom's love and support, she had dealt with it, after imagining that he'd desert her. Now, they were as close as ever, with a very precocious Owen Paris junior who looked like he was going to emulate his father, given his preoccupation with anything that could fly.
"Well, I'll be seeing you then. Have a blessed Christmas, Tom."
"You too, Admiral."
She had signed off, deeply pensive for hours after that.
Now, she was alone, and she was comfortable being alone. Choice or inclination, what did it matter? It was something she had cultivated. On Voyager... Those two months in the Void in total darkness... She had been cloistered in her cabin until Chakotay had drawn her out of it... This time of the year never did evoke the happy memories as it did for most others who celebrated the holidays. For her... She had packaged her heartache and consigned it to the furthest corner and there it stayed, untroubled during the year, and only unsettling her at Christmas time.
Looking again at the presents under the tree, she remembered something. Sighing, Kathryn got up and headed for her bedroom, Missy panting after her. In the upper shelf of her wardrobe she stuck her hand and retrieved the packages. They were neatly wrapped gifts that she placed on her bed, where the fourth present lay. Bright red ribbon formed a bow on top of the box. Carefully, she scooped all four gifts and carried them to the lounge where she placed them under the tree.
She took the first box, and read the little card attached to the ribbon.
To
little Kathryn, on your first birthday.
"I shouldn't do this," Kathryn murmured softly. "I can't help myself. I'm ten times a fool, setting myself up..." Her hands inexorably went to the second and the third box, until she lifted the last gift.
To
little Kathryn, on your fourth birthday. Merry Christmas.
Then they rushed into her. All the terrors of the memories she wanted to bury. Like pealing bells they rang in her head and clamoured to be heard. Kathryn's hands clutched convulsively at the gift as she pressed it to her bosom, holding it like she would a baby and rocking...rocking...
I
can't do this anymore...
Kathryn,
this is Admiral Paris. I just received a communiqué from -
Can't
it wait? I'm on my way home for Christmas, Owen.
I'm
afraid it can't. It's important that you know. Captain Chakotay thought to
inform Headquarters...
Chakotay?
Kathryn,
Annika Hansen has died a week ago in a shuttle crash.
Seven
of Nine...mother of little Kathryn...dead?
I'm
sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Kathryn.
Owen,
I've dealt with bad news before. Thank you for letting me know.
Oh,
Chakotay... What now...?
Kathryn dropped the gift suddenly and gave a cry like a wounded animal. She wrung her hands and kept rocking, sobbing open-mouthed for several seconds. When she stopped abruptly, she stared around the room, saw that the fire had almost died down. She was shivering and her teeth chattered and only then she realised how cold it had become in the room.
"Wood..."
Kathryn rose stiffly and walked to the closet in the passage where she grabbed a pair of wellingtons with an elated Missy looking on and giving little yelps of pleasure as Kathryn slipped her feet into the boots.
"You're going nowhere, buster..."
Missy barked, then ran to the front door. Kathryn shook her head.
"I'd better get more wood," she muttered under her breath. "It's starting to freeze. Don't get to me again, Chakotay. You've made your life. I made mine, for what it's worth. It's been a year. It's your life. Enjoy it, I'm enjoying mine, damn you. Just don't bug me this time of the year..."
Kathryn kept up the muttering, a low string of invectives and curses that rushed from her as she removed the fur-lined parka from behind the front door and quickly donned it over her robe and pyjamas. Pulling it tight around her, she rubbed her hands, and by the time she walked down the short flight of steps off the porch and into thick snow underfoot, realised she had forgotten to put on a pair of gloves. Rubbing her hands together furiously, blowing on them for extra warmth, her breath steamed and appeared to billow in the cold, frosty air. The sliver of moonlight through the trees was the only guiding light as she fumbled her way round the side of the house. Missy kept up her barking, and for once Kathryn was glad the dog was with her. It was dark and Missy was company at least.
And the demons kept coming.
We'd
like for you to be present when Doctor confirms our pregnancy...
When
will our baby be due, Doctor?
Thank
you for everything you've done for us, Kathryn.
Seven
of Nine died in a shuttle accident...
"Damn you, Chakotay. Why didn't you inform me yourself? It's been a year now. I was fine until last year. I am still alone, didn't you know? But I don't blame you. You are still grieving the loss of your wife."
Kathryn trudged through the thick snow..
"Your wife!" she emphasized. "You loved her, I know. She loved you. It's why I was magnanimous, understand? I could have taken you away from her. I had that power. We had a history, Chakotay...a history! I saw her eyes. She was happy...so happy. I saw your eyes. You were happy...so happy. Are you taking good care of your little girl?"
Marry
me, Kathryn...
Not
now, Chakotay...
"Leave me alone!"
Kathryn almost pitched forward as she stumbled against a protruding tree root she couldn't see for the snow.
"Hell, I always avoid that spot. That tree!" She glared in the darkness at Missy, whose tail was wagging and she pointed accusingly at her dog. "And you! You are so busted, girl. You could have warned me..." Kathryn peered in the darkness at the tree and almost fell over as she tried to kick the tree. "Remind me to uproot you in the new year..." she muttered.
When she reached the wooden container at the side of the house, she was freezing in spite of the warm parka and the hood that was pulled deep over her head. She muttered an expletive as she tried to lift the large wooden lid with frozen hands. Several minutes later, and carrying a load of wood in her arms, she made her way back round the front of the house.
Kathryn,
even the eagles know when to rest.
No,
the word rest is foreign to me.
Marry
me, Kathryn...
I
can't give you what you need, Chakotay.
I
love you...
Not
now, Chakotay. I'm the captain. I must get my people home.
You're
a woman, Kathryn, with feelings and emotions and insecurities and needs like
everyone else.
I
don't need this right now.
Are
you with me Chakotay?
Always,
Kathryn. Always...
Kathryn,
Seven and I want to validate our relationship. Will you do us the honour of
joining us in marriage?
Kathryn,
I've always wanted children. Don't
you?
Kathryn rounded the house on the approach to the long porch. Chakotay's image beamed at her.
The
Borg are scorpions, Kathryn. They don't change their nature.
Captain,
I am going to marry Seven of Nine...
Damn you, Chakotay...
Kathryn looked up at the heavens, her view of the cold moon and stars, detached, sparkling distantly, were blurred by the fury of her tears.
"Oh, God! Take away my pain!"
She trudged on through the unfriendly darkness. Kathryn's heart overflowed with hurt.
"Please, let there be one miracle for me...just one. Let me be happy again. It's all I ask..."
The next moment Kathryn pitched violently forward as she stumbled against the root of the tree. As she went down, she let go of the wood. Her head knocked hard against one block that landed upright in the snow. Kathryn gave a cry, then felt herself floating as the darkness began to cloak her. Next to her Missy jumped up excitedly and then started whimpering as Kathryn lay still.
"Just one little miracle..."
It was the last words she spoke as she lost consciousness.
Missy looked up at the cold moon and howled helplessly.
****
END PART TWO
PART THREE
Chakotay sat at the controls of the shuttle and grit his teeth. Katie had asked for the umpteenth time, "Daddy, are we there yet?"
Turning to glance at her, his heart melted. Try as he might, he couldn't be mad at her. Katie had such an expectant look in her eyes, he was almost sorry that he made her the promise in the first place a week ago, while still at home on Ketarcha Prime. Then he had told her that they were going to visit the Lady in the Picture. It was the way Katie always addressed her whenever she looked at the photograph of Kathryn Janeway. In the last year Katie had become obsessed, Chakotay catching her many times just staring at the image of Kathryn, and then talking to it as if Kathryn were sitting opposite her and listening intently. Chakotay set the controls on autopilot and made his way to the rear where his daughter was secured in her seat. He pursed his lips again as he looked at her, her eyes trustingly on him.
"When are we going to get there, Daddy?"
"Honey, I gave you some crayons and paper to draw," he appeased, trying to divert her attention.
Her eyes didn't waver as she stared him down.
She
looks so like her mother...
He relaxed his hands that balled into fists. Katie didn't need to see him display any kind of outburst. She kept asking and she deserved an answer, a truthful one.
"But are we almost there, Daddy?"
Katie asked the question as if she never heard him speak about crayons. He sat down on the seat facing her and took her small hands in his. Katie's hair had grown long in the last months, he thought idly. It fanned about her face and hanged into the small of her back. In the half illumination her hair shone, and he felt another contraction of his heart.
"It's just another hour, honey. I thought you wanted to sleep."
Why did he even mention sleep? Katie had already slept most of the way. Their three day journey from Ketarcha Prime had been smooth enough, but Katie had been fractious, clinging most of the time to the framed photograph that she insisted she wanted to bring along. She was impatient in the typical way of small children who wanted answers right away and their immediate needs satisfied. When he said they were going to visit the Lady in the Picture, Katie had been constantly bombarding him with questions. She had not been quiet or sat still for any length of time since then.
"Is she beautiful, Daddy? Like Mama?"
"More beautiful, poppet," he said with complete conviction.
"Why, Daddy?"
He had given an exaggerated sigh.
"Because, honey, she is generous and kind."
"Does that mean she's beautiful?"
"Definitely."
"Am I beautiful, Daddy?"
"Honey, with those little dimples, rosy cheeks and red lips and long hair and blue eyes, you are the prettiest almost-four-year-old in the whole universe."
"And the Lady in the Picture, Daddy. Will she like me?"
Chakotay silently prayed in earnest and responded with a heart-felt "I hope so, Katie. I hope so."
"And I can call her Aunty Kathryn?"
"Very much so. But maybe..."
He had given another sigh. He knew it was folly. But these days he operated on instinct, and after the first months of mourning, the old instincts kicked in. He didn't want to raise his daughter's hopes. If only Kathryn...
"It's almost my birthday, Daddy."
"Yes, honey. In about another hour..."
"And then it's Christmas."
"Who told you, sweetie?" he asked, surprised. Annika had frowned upon the Christmas celebration and he had fallen into pleasing her. Their days had been just...barren. Katie touched his hand and he realised he hadn't been hearing her reply.
"In play school, Daddy. Lisa's mommy said so."
"Oh."
"Will it be Christmas by the Lady in the Picture, Daddy?"
"I think so, Katie. There will be a tree with lots of lights and an angel sitting on top of the tree."
"Angels with wings?"
Chakotay knew that knowledge came courtesy Lisa in her play group. He sighed. He was taking an almighty leap of faith returning to Earth... If only Kathryn... Katie touched his hand again and shook him.
"My name is also Kathryn," she offered as she busied herself with her crayons.
"I know, honey," he replied indulgently.
Katie's hair had fallen forward so that he couldn't see her face as she concentrated on her drawing. Yet, always, next to her on the little desk top he devised to fit over her chair, lay the photo of Kathryn. Katie had been curiously drawn to Kathryn's picture the moment he had taken it out and placed it on his bedstand not long after Annika died. Annika who asked if she could name their daughter after the woman who had raised her and guided her to humanity...
"Just like the Lady in the Picture."
"Yes, sweetheart. Mama asked if she could name you Kathryn."
"Mama..."
"Yes, you remember Mama, don't you?"
Katie looked up at him with her startling eyes and nodded a little vaguely. She had taken her mother's death so calmly that it shocked him a little and only afterwards he realised how much the impassiveness of Annika's personality impressed on their daughter. In truth, as small as Katie was, she had adapted - quickly. Now, mostly, Annika was just a hazy entity that never seemed to disturb his little girl. Katie had been too young to understand much, and when Annika didn't come home from her short mission to Almor IV, Katie's only memory was of an austere woman who had been sometimes too severe with their daughter. He gave another sigh. Katie fixed all her affections on him subsequently, affections that had been, he admitted ruefully, unequally shared between both parents, with him receiving the bounty of it. Now, unless she was reminded or saw a picture of Annika, her mother was almost gone from her memory and in its place was the constant questioning about the woman in the photo that stood on his bedside table.
"Yes, Mama asked. Now we're going to see Aunty Kathryn and hope that she will like you, okay?"
" - 'kay."
He was just on the point of moving towards the shuttle conn again when Katie fired another salvo at him.
"And then can she be my new mommy?"
Another sigh followed.
I hurt her too deeply that she will forgive me, little one. But maybe when she sees you... Maybe when I beg her forgiveness... Maybe...maybe...on this Christmas night...maybe...
"Will
you ask her, Katie?"
"Oh,
yes!" Katie had looked up when he asked that and Chakotay's heart burned
intensely for several seconds as he saw the eagerness in her eyes.
Oh, spirits, I
ask that my little girl not be disappointed on this night... She is so ready to
have a mother. She needs one desperately...desperately...
Somehow, Chakotay pulled himself away from his burgeoning pain and managed to smile at his daughter. He leaned over and kissed her tenderly against her forehead.
"I have a present for her, Daddy."
"I know, honey..."
"And are you going to give her a present too, Daddy?"
Chakotay remained quiet, pensive.
"Daddy...?"
"Yes, sweetheart, yes..." he sighed as he took control of the shuttle again.
Somehow, Katie's voice as she talked to herself calmed him and by the time he reached his destination, he felt better. He had put off coming, not wanting to face the spectre of failure. Now, as he approached the landing pad of the Janeway property, he felt better than he had in months. He could face the new challenge head-on, just like he did in the old days of Voyager.
"We're here, Katie..."
*
He was carrying Katie while at the same time lugging a large duffel bag slung across his shoulder. Chakotay had expected snow and he was glad that he had come prepared. Katie's face was almost covered as the hood sank right over her head and the too big anorak gave her sufficient warmth. His boots crunched in the snow and the crisp air made him tuck his head in and press forward.
"I'm cold, Daddy..." Katie complained.
So much for the thick anorak.
"We're almost there, honey," Chakotay assured her and then stopped suddenly as he heard the sound of barking. He peered into the darkness and only dimly detected something hurtling towards them. Katie stiffened in his arms.
"Daddy?"
"It's okay, honey. It's a dog. The Lady in the Picture had a dog. Maybe it's the same one..."
Kathryn had always spoken about her dog Molly that had been in the care of her fiancé. That had been in the early days of their journey in the Delta Quadrant. Chakotay almost keeled over as the dog leaped at him.
"Wha - "
This dog couldn't be Molly, he realised. It appeared young and lively, but it was a setter. Katie snuggled tighter against him. The dog barked frantically, jumping up against Chakotay.
"I'm scared, Daddy," Katie cried.
"Shhh, it's okay, honey." Chakotay put Katie down and as he bent down the dog whined plaintively, tugging at his parka.
"Daddy?"
Chakotay didn't hear Katie. There was something about the dog, about the way she barked and tugged at him, then running off three or four metres and back to him. This was not a welcoming in the traditional way, he thought. He was a stranger and so was his daughter. The dog...
"Something's wrong..." Suddenly alert, Chakotay lifted Katie up and slung the duffel over his shoulder again. "Come, Katie, the dog is showing us something..."
A hand clamped around his heart as he staggered through the snow after the dog who was bounding ahead at amazing speed. Her barks had changed to exciting yelps.
"Why are you running, Daddy?" Katie asked while almost choking him as she held on to him. A minute later, he saw the dog had stopped. His heart thundered as he saw in the dim light from the house the prone figure in the snow. When he reached them, the dog was panting madly. He put Katie down.
"Honey, see there? The front door is open. Go, stand on the porch," he urged Katie. Katie hesitated, fear in her eyes as she looked at the figure, then at him. "Go!" he urged gently. Katie moved slowly towards the porch.
Chakotay dropped the duffel, and turned the figure over.
"Oh, Kathryn..."
Kathryn was deathly still in her unconscious state, and blue in the face. She was also almost frozen. Her hands felt like little ice blocks and her hair was damp, some tresses clinging to her cheeks. Almost absently he noted the wood lying strewn around her as he lifted Kathryn gently into his arms and moved towards the front door, which not surprisingly, stood open.
"Katie, you go on inside, honey," he said as he saw his daughter standing still on the porch. Chakotay moved inside and quickly lay Kathryn down on the big sofa that faced the hearth. Kathryn was wet, but not wet through as he had feared when he removed her parka and boots. He took her hands in his and rubbed them furiously. There was a deep gash above her right brow, but the blood had congealed a while ago already, he surmised, because of the snow.
Oh, Kathryn...that I have to meet you like this...
"Daddy, is she going to die?" Katie sounded tearful.
Chakotay cast his daughter a quick glance.
"Not if I can help it, sweetie," he replied with great determination, then realised that it was very cold in the lounge. He turned to look at the hearth, saw that the fire had gone out. He turned to face the unconscious woman, considered for a few heart-stopping moments what course of action to take first. He touched Kathryn's cold cheeks and blue lips, touched the gash above her eyebrow. Then he turned to his daughter. "Katie, you stay here, will you? I'm just going outside. I'll be back right away, okay?"
Katie only nodded as she pulled her anorak tighter around her, although the hood had fallen back and her long tresses were exposed.
" 'kay, Daddy," she said solemnly.
He gave Kathryn another pained, desperate look, then got up and rushed out the front door again. He slung the duffel over his shoulder and then collected the wood Kathryn must have dropped as she fell. His eyes felt fevered, the urge to cry out at the sight of her so close that he stopped and took a deep breath. Back in the lounge it was Katie's words that rocked him back to the grave situation Kathryn was in. She was touching Kathryn's cheek.
"Please, don't die. Please, don't die..." his little girl cried.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, we'll get her better in no time," he assured her.
"Is she going to die, like Mama, Daddy?"
"No, honey, but I promise we'll get her better."
Chakotay stacked some wood in the fireplace and rummaged through his duffel for his phaser. In a minute there was a fire and only then Chakotay could tend fully to Kathryn, who was starting to moan. The dog had gone to lie at the side of the sofa. Chakotay saw the tears forming in Katie's eyes and gave her a quick squeeze.
"Katie, you stand there by the tree, okay?"
Katie's tears still hovered but she nodded her head vigorously and walked slowly to the big Christmas tree. Chakotay, satisfied that Katie had overcome her fear of the dog, but still very intimidated by the tree and its lights and baubles, turned to Kathryn again. He caressed Kathryn's cold cheeks, then on an impulse, planted a kiss against her forehead.
"Come on, Kathryn, wake up," he coaxed her. But Kathryn lay still, although she moaned again. Chakotay looked around him.
He stood up and headed to find a bathroom, stopping when Katie became agitated.
"Daddy?"
"Don't worry. I'll be back now." Chakotay looked down at the dog. "Why don't you look after my little girl?" he asked the dog. As if she understood, the dog got up and walked to Katie, licking her hand before lying down at Katie's feet. Chakotay gave a relieved sigh and vanished from the lounge. He was back minutes later.
"Thank goodness for emergency med-kits," he murmured as he opened the med-kit and removed a medical tricorder, hypospray and a regenerator. He glanced once more at Katie who gazed at the tree. Then he smiled as he turned to Kathryn and regenerated the broken skin of her wound, pleased to see how her skin smoothed out until the gash was gone. The room was beginning to warm up again and he was glad. He had a mind to use his phaser and dry her out, but mercifully, her robe and gown was still dry, and only the lower edges were still damp. Kathryn's skin was clearing again to a healthy tone, the bluish tint gradually changing to a flushed pink as her body began to bask as she became warm again. He took her hand in his and was gratified when her fingers subconsciously tightened around his. She was close to waking, but he knew that she'd have a headache when she came to, so he filled the hypospray with a painkiller and pressed it against her neck. He still held her one hand in his and Kathryn gave a sharp gasp as the medication took instant effect and she opened her eyes. The instrument slipped from his hand as she frowned, then her eyes widened as recognition dawned.
"Chakotay...?"
"Hello, Kathryn," he said, sounding hesitant, filled with trepidation. Still, his heart soared as Kathryn's hand gripped his tightly, like someone drowning. Her blue-grey eyes were sunken, but there was so much of a hope in them that the pain spread through him. When she spoke, it was soft, thready, as if she couldn't believe he was there.
"H-How...what are you doing here?"
Kathryn tried to sit up and he assisted her tenderly, holding her hands in his. He was suddenly bold, not caring if she'd turn him down again. He had a gift for her, didn't he? And, the look in her eyes gave him hope too, didn't it? Hope burned deep furrows right through him, and kept burning as Kathryn's eyes never left his.
"I've come to ask if there's room at the inn for two..." he said, his heart thumping wildly.
"For - for two?" she stammered and he shifted so that she could look over his shoulder to the tree.
He saw the look in Kathryn's eyes, the hungry look that all but devoured the image of the little girl standing, looking up at the angel in enthralled silence. For the first time since he made the decision, Chakotay was glad that he had come. Kathryn might send him packing, but his little girl... Kathryn's eyes were deep pools of indescribable joy. The blue-grey darkened, darkened, then a glow settled in them, a glow that radiated from her depths.
Kathryn did not burst into tears like he might have imagined. She didn't throw herself at him and sob like he thought she might in some grand reconciliation. There was just the deep, hungry look in her eyes. The coldness had turned to heat and only the way her nostrils flared, the way her lips trembled slightly in the way he thought emotion had gripped her completely, the way her fingernails dug into his skin, did he sense how right his decision was.
No tears.
Just a prayer as Kathryn's eyes closed briefly, then opened again, still fixed longingly on the little girl.
"I - I prayed for a miracle, Chakotay..." Kathryn whispered brokenly, unable to tear her gaze away.
Katie turned to look at them.
"Come here, Katie," Chakotay said softly. "Here's someone I'd love you to meet..."
Chakotay cupped Kathryn's cheeks and made her look at him, the little intrusion of having her gaze diverted from the little girl only fleeting as Kathryn's eyes burned into his and Katie approached them hesitantly.
"Almost five years ago, Kathryn," Chakotay said softly, his voice uneven with deep emotion, "you gave me a gift. I could never forget your generosity, your...love. Never. And so, I wanted to return your gift, Kathryn, for little Katie...little Kathryn, you know, she is really - "
" - my daughter..."
***
END PART THREE
PART FOUR
The first sensation of waking up was hearing muted voices. Chakotay lay on the sofa, his eyes closed, but becoming gradually aware that he was in Kathryn's home in Indiana, in her lounge, lying on her sofa and feeling incredibly warm. The voices were calm, and as he filtered out the sounds of the morning, the voices became more distinct, so that he was able to hear every word spoken. He gave a deep sigh of contentment and remained on the couch, just shifting slightly to worm himself deeper into the softness of the sofa and enjoy the fuzziness of being wanted and loved.
Last night had been a revelation, a remarkable, new life that started for the three of them.
Annika Hansen could never quite accept Katie in the way Kathryn did. He had known early on that Kathryn's wonderful, incredible gift to them, given with so much love and sacrifice, had not the desired effect. Not for him, and neither for Annika.
Because the moment baby Kathryn was born, they had both known they were never going to forget the woman who had given them the gift of a pregnancy.
Katie...Kathryn Janeway. Uncannily, so much so that it shocked both of them, Katie resembled Kathryn Janeway in almost every way. To give Annika any credit, she tried and raised their daughter to the best of her ability, loving her unconditionally. The first two years of their marriage had been good. They were proud parents of a little girl and it had warmed him endlessly how Seven of Nine had enjoyed being a mother, finding intense enjoyment in things she had always declared to be irrelevant. Baby Kathryn was wholly dependant on her then and for the crucial first year of Katie's life, Seven had been caring and loving.
After that, as Katie's personality and appearance began to assert themselves, they were always reminded of their daughter's genetic origin. They never spoke about it, yet it lay like a huge invisible wall between them.
He remembered five years ago when he had told Kathryn about Seven's infertility. Seven had been desperate to please him and his remark that he desired children, made her obsessed to fulfill that need. And Kathryn...She had known, always. Privy to all medical records of the crew, Kathryn had known about Seven's condition. One night when they were in her quarters going over interminable reports, he told her.
Kathryn had given him a strange look, a dark glow in her eyes.
"I am ovulating, Chakotay," she stated. "I want to help you..."
He hadn't wanted her to, but then Seven's disappointing droop to her mouth when he mentioned offspring came to him again. He had been in love with Seven and Seven had been completely in love with him. He wanted children. Desperately.
Kathryn's offer had come like a shot in the arm of hope, yet he held off for a few days. They were days in which he had been wracked by guilt, by the magnitude of what Kathryn wanted to do for them. Then one night in his quarters, after he and Seven had made love, he watched with dismay how she stroked her stomach afterwards.
Then he broached the subject with her.
"You realise that you will only be a - a - "
" - maturation chamber. I know, and I understand, Chakotay," Seven told him.
He had seen the new glow about her and it made him happy to see her happy. Everything that had gone before, his hopeless yearning that Kathryn accept his offer of marriage, that she love him back the way he loved her, crystallised into accepting and welcoming Seven's patent joy at becoming a mother. He had been as excited about the prospect of becoming a parent as Seven had been. Still, he had to let her face the reality of their situation, pose all possible risks.
"Technically, the child - "
"I know, Chakotay. The infant will be yours and Captain Janeway's. But it is her gift for us. The baby will grow inside my body and I will love it and raise it in the knowledge that the baby will be ours..."
He had hugged his wife of a few weeks and felt the affection welling up inside him, ecstatic that they could be parents after all.
Seven had been happy, and the way her eyes had lit up, the way she had become far more responsive and passionate in their lovemaking than before, more than anything told him that they had to accept Kathryn's offer. Kathryn had done so on one condition only: they leave Federation space and settle elsewhere.
How was he to know that things would turn out differently? Had they been too happy at the prospect of becoming parents not to enter parameters such as behaviour and looks and genetic distinctiveness? They had never considered the baby's appearance, and only vaguely thought it might have some of his characteristics. That their baby would be all Kathryn, with only his dimples as his contribution to her uniqueness, they had not anticipated. Katie's hair was the same colour as Kathryn's, their eyes were an identical shade of blue-grey and same shape. Katie even displayed some of Kathryn's mannerisms... The first time as a toddler, when Annika had reprimanded their daughter, Katie had been mutinous, pursing her lips and standing hands on her hips exactly like Kathryn did when she was in terror mode.
And so Katie became Annika Hansen's reminder that there had been another woman in Chakotay's life, a tangible evidence of Kathryn's existence, and even more painful, that it was not her child, even though she carried Katie to term, even though he sometimes, during her early pregnancy, felt nauseous; even though Annika experienced all the pain of childbirth. The first year they had been ecstatic with their baby. After that... Nothing he could do to make things easier for Annika, seemed to help. To her credit, Annika accepted the new pain stoically and raised Katie as her daughter whom she too, loved desperately in her own way.
But he suffered and ultimately, Katie suffered. Their little girl had become as aloof, as detached and impassive as the mother who raised her. It had been inevitable. What possible natural childish irrepressibility there had been in Katie, was gone by the time she had a third birthday. She was only a little girl, but she rarely smiled, rarely showed emotion. On the occasions Katie cried, Annika had been on hand to teach her about adapting. It was unnatural and a stunningly vivid reminder of how devoid of emotion the Borg really had been.
Sometimes, he thought it was something Annika had done deliberately. Still, by the time she died, there was nothing between them except Kathryn Janeway's baby girl. That was how Annika came to refer to her daughter eventually. In the year since Annika's death, he had tried to undo most of what he thought had been the negative influences of the woman who raised her. Under his careful ministration, Katie began to smile more; a few times she had even laughed out loud. When she fell and hurt herself, he told her it was okay to cry...
And those times she smiled. Her face lit up like Kathryn Janeway's.
Yes, Katie was Kathryn's daughter.
He had been too guilt-ridden, too afraid to admit that he had failed Annika, failed Katie, and failed Kathryn to make immediate preparations to return to Earth.
Yet last night, when Kathryn looked at her daughter, it made the trek to her home and return to her heart worthwhile.
"Come, Katie. This is the Lady in the Picture..."
Katie had looked at Kathryn with wide-eyed amazement, too afraid to speak, although her little rosy lips were parted. Almost, Chakotay had wanted to curse Annika again. Katie had been diffident. But her mother - her real mother - saved the moment. Kathryn leaned forward and lifted Katie on her lap. Then she held the child and caressed her long hair, touched Katie's cheek before kissing her forehead.
"Hello, Katie. You're a pretty little girl..."
Chakotay saw how the shine had come to stay in Kathryn's eyes as she looked at her daughter. Katie, shy at first, opened up.
"You are pretty too..."
"Then I guess we make a pretty pair, don't we?"
Katie smiled for the first time in Kathryn's presence as Kathryn hugged her. It warmed his heart at the way Katie buried her face in Kathryn's bosom; she had never been that close with Annika near the end. Kathryn kissed her daughter's head and again, Chakotay marveled at how strikingly alike mother and daughter were. Their hair shone the same burnished auburn; their eyes were identical blue-grey.
When Katie wriggled a little away from Kathryn - Chakotay noticed that she didn't move too far out of Kathryn's embrace - she looked at the older woman. Then she looked at Chakotay as if to seek his approval. He nodded.
"Go ahead, Katie," he encouraged her. "Ask the Lady in the Picture what you said you would ask."
Katie turned to Kathryn and her small hand touched Kathryn's cheek. .
"Will you be my Mommy?"
Kathryn looked at him, her eyes filling with tears for the first time since he had brought her in from the cold. Her lips trembled. She kissed Katie's forehead and her eyes closed. Chakotay felt the blessing of the night enfold them all as it seemed to him that Kathryn prayed. Then she opened her eyes again and smoothed her daughter's hair away from her face. Katie basked in Kathryn's instinctive love and attention. Mother and daughter turned to face him. He was completely overwhelmed.
"Only if your Daddy will come along too..."
His women looked at him, their eyes expectant; they looked like they were both holding their breaths. Kathryn, because so much had happened, and he didn't want to lose her again; Katie, because he promised her she'd have a mommy by Christmas. Kathryn, because he sensed she was never going to throw away another chance at happiness again, but was afraid to hear his reaction; Katie, because all she wanted for her birthday, was a Mommy. His women were going to have all their wishes come true. All he had to do was...
"Daddy?"
"Chakotay?"
"Katie, you are where you belong, honey. If your Mommy will have me - "
"For myself too, Chakotay..." Kathryn added softly.
There was a sudden pleading in Kathryn's eyes and he gripped her hand so tightly that she winced.
"Marry me, Kathryn."
He had asked the question softly, without the old trepidation of the two occasions on Voyager when he asked her and she turned him down. He had seen the spark in her eyes, yet had asked the question with that sinking feeling he'd come away from her empty-handed.
Chakotay held little Katie's hand while she and her mother continued to look at him. He felt an illogical fear that she'd say no after all...
"Yes, Chakotay," came Kathryn's whispered reply. "Yes, I will marry you..."
"And we'll stay here for all the time, Mommy?" the child asked.
"I want to be with you always, Kathryn," her father endorsed.
"It's the deal of a lifetime and a lifetime deal," Kathryn Janeway added in mock sternness.
"Then I gladly accept, Admiral."
"Daddy, what's an admiral?"
"A Very Important Person, Katie. She's your Mommy, okay?"
"'kay, Daddy," Katie replied then sighed as she wormed herself against her mother, minutes later saying sleepily, "I brought you a present, Mommy..."
Kathryn seemed to choke up, but she regained her composure, if only temporarily as she couldn't seem to stop touching her daughter.
"So have I, my beautiful, brave little girl. I have kept all your presents for you."
He had taken Kathryn's hand in his, still too afraid to touch her much. Katie had scrambled off Kathryn's lap, forgot totally that she had a father and ran to the tree. At that moment, a chime sounded, heralding the hour of midnight.
"Merry Christmas, Kathryn," he said quietly.
"Merry Christmas, Chakotay. You gave me the most wonderful gift. Tonight, I despaired of ever being happy again. I couldn't forget I had a little girl somewhere. I could never forget. It became my punishment, always longing...always longing..." Kathryn gave a sob and gently, Chakotay took her in his arms.
"It's over now, Kathryn. We have all the time to talk - "
"Do you still love me, Chakotay? After all I've done?"
"I was temporarily derailed, my Kathryn. I am more in love with you now than I have ever been..."
Kathryn gave a contented sigh.
"I love you, Chakotay. I have you, I have my daughter - "
"And your dog - "
"Yes, my dog. Her name is Missy. I am happy - "
"Daddy! Mommy!"
"See? Your magic is working. Katie is smiling. She hasn't done much of that in her life, Kathryn. Now - "
"Here's a present for me!"
"We have work to do, mother of my daughter."
"Indeed."
They spent half an hour just trying to convince Katie that she had to wait till morning to open her presents, but they wished her happy birthday. When Katie's eyes started drooping, Kathryn looked uncertainly at him. He had taken their duffel and rummaged through it until he found her pyjamas and robe. But then, Katie hadn't wanted to be separated from her mother.
"It's okay, Chakotay. She can sleep in my bed," Kathryn said. He had given Kathryn a tender smile and kissed her briefly, remembering how the shock of the touch went through him.
When Katie was settled, Kathryn slipped into bed too and it warmed his heart - tearing him up, if truth were told - the way Katie just about wanted to melt into Kathryn. They were strangers and not strangers. Seeing them last night in her bed and the way Katie clung to Kathryn, he was finally convinced that the natural bond between mother and child could never be severed and that an indefinable thread tied them together. They were mother and daughter, even if Kathryn never gave birth to Katie. Katie sensed Kathryn, in the same way animal young sensed their mothers; she smelled Kathryn and committed to her memory for all time, Kathryn Janeway as her mother. He held Kathryn's hand, and with his free hand caressed the hair away from her face. Her fall had been severe, and even though he had tended to her injury, she was tired. Kathryn couldn't keep her eyes off the sleeping child in her arms. He bent down to kiss Katie and the little girl stirred dreamily, giving a sigh of contentment then buried herself deeper against Kathryn. Kathryn turned to him and he kissed her too, a longer, more lingering kiss that promised of nights and days she would lie in his arms. For now, Katie needed Kathryn, and this was their moment, the miracle Kathryn had wanted.
Chakotay wanted to cry, felt the sting of tears as mother and daughter slipped into slumber, wholly natural and comfortable. One day, Katie will know the truth.
For now, Katie only sensed the truth.
Chakotay was brought to the present when Kathryn and Katie's voices filtered through to him.
"This present was for your very first birthday..."
"Can I open it?"
"You want Daddy to see it too?"
"Uh-huh..."
Chakotay smiled. Katie was in her element enjoying herself, experiencing her first real Christmas.
Then Katie's words came to him and he froze.
"Am I not the - the daughter of - of Kathryn Jane - Janeway?
**
END PART FOUR
PART FIVE
The thin grey dawn filtered through the window that overlooked the grounds of Indiana. It threw enough light into the room that it wasn't necessary to order any light setting, except those that flickered from the tree. Kathryn looked at her daughter where they were both seated near the tree. Katie had once again stared in awe at the colourful, shiny decorations of the tree and Kathryn had wondered idly if Katie had ever seen a Christmas tree. When Kathryn patted the space next to her on the carpeted floor, Katie had eagerly sidled next to her, first throwing her little arms around her before looking up at her again. There was an air of anticipation about Katie, Kathryn thought, in the way children often couldn't wait for something wonderful to be revealed to them.
Probably also
the excitement of being here, with me.
At four years old Katie looked to be small for her age and rather on the scrawny side. There was a fey look about her that reminded Kathryn a lot of Kes. Katie's cheeks were flushed and Kathryn thought that very soon, the child might want to take a nap again. Katie's hair was exactly her own colour and was long, reaching into the small of her back. Kathryn thought how as a child she had worn such long hair, and kept it into her adulthood. She remembered how angry Chakotay had been when she cut it short... When Katie glanced at her and smiled, it was a shy smile, yet there was a conviction about the child that she was going to be cosseted and loved by the woman she called the Lady in the Picture.
Chakotay had not spoken much last night, but what she could glean from odd phrases, Katie had not been a very happy, well-adjusted child by the time Seven died. Even now, there was a startling shyness about her daughter that she hoped, would improve as Katie got to know her better. She was in completely alien surroundings and everything was still new to her. Here, she would be among family and make new friends. Especially family. Katie will understand she had grandparents and an aunt and an extended sort of family in Kathryn's former crew who settled on Earth. Katie would have to attend school here. Kathryn knew what Chakotay's response would be:
"She will have her mother to guide her, Kathryn."
Kathryn gave an inward little smile, one that curled deliciously inside her. She had never thought she would ever see the child who was the daughter of Chakotay and Annika Hansen. Her condition more than four years ago had been to safeguard her own heart from the pain of seeing the child who was genetically her daughter. She had not wanted to see a happy Chakotay and happy Annika, walking with the little girl between them, walking in the park, pushing her on a swing.
I
had no regrets then...none. I did it to help a childless couple. That was all
there was to it. Yet why could I never stop thinking of the child?
When Chakotay blurted Seven's dilemma to her, her solution was made because she loved him, and because she wanted to give him the gift of life. It hurt her to the point of going almost insane when she saw how happy they had been. She had destroyed her own chance at happiness; she could have had Chakotay, but let him choose Seven and she had given them something more. Those had been the lost chances, chances she threw away because saving her crew and keeping them happy, meant more to her than personal happiness and freedom.
She had no freedom in the subsequent years. She had no picture of Katie, no letters from the happy couple, no news or updates. So she had sent no gifts to Katie, not wishing to intrude and create greater confusion or, more pertinently, interfere. It had been the flip side of the condition she laid down to them. She would never contact them and ask them for information. In retrospect, it had been a good decision, however much it pained her. They didn't need Kathryn Janeway's intrusion in their lives.
How was I to know that both husband and child and mother would be unhappy by the time Annika Hansen died?
Always, she tried to picture the child. She pictured how Katie would look, wondered about her first teeth, her first steps, her first words. On those occasions she had become closed off, melancholic, and if her mother, stepfather and sister wondered, they never asked. Gretchen Janeway-Ponsonby took what little morsels of information her daughter was going to give and indexed them neatly in her memory. She knew about Kathryn's first officer, about Kathryn's love for a man who eventually settled with another woman. Reasons were never supplied by Kathryn, and perhaps, they got some of their information from Voyager crew like Tom and B'Elanna.
Last night she had been at the end of her tether; she had reached breaking point and when she cast her eyes up to the cold, icy heavens, it had been a prayer from her very depths. Her ingrained scepticism of a Greater Power; her keen seeking for exactness in the sciences that unfailingly produced knowns, stood aside for a few seconds in which she moved beyond the point of belief to humble acceptance. She offered a prayer in desperation, with no hope of being heard. This morning, she firmly believed that a Greater Power had seen right into her heart and heard her cry of pain.
It's
Christmas. I wanted a miracle. I am blessed...
She had a vague memory of stumbling against the rotten root again when she returned from the woodshed. After that, she had no recollection of what happened, only that she woke up and looked into the eyes of a man she had loved hopelessly since the first instance she had laid eyes on him twelve years ago.
With Chakotay, came his daughter. After that, she could never think of little Katie as belonging to anyone but her and Chakotay. Now, looking at how Katie was fitting a few baubles back onto the branches of the tree, her heart wanted to burst with pride. Kathryn had removed some baubles to give Katie something to do before opening of the gifts and in the hope that Chakotay would wake up naturally from his deep slumber.
Katie had accepted her as naturally as if she had known Kathryn all her life. Earlier this morning, she had woken to the totally comfortable and languorous feeling that a small body was snuggled closely to hers. Katie had stirred in her arms and when Kathryn checked her chronometer, saw that it was 0600. Then she felt a none too gentle shake of her shoulder as Katie leaned over her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"We must go to the tree," Katie gasped excitedly.
Already, Kathryn wondered how a four year old could be so wide awake at 0600. It was a thrilling new experience for her. By the time she pulled her robe on, Katie was already in hers, pulling on her miniature slippers that Kathryn had replicated late last night as they prepared for bed.
"Come!" Katie whispered as she took Kathryn's hand and pulled her to the bedroom door. When they passed the sofa where Chakotay was lying, Kathryn didn't want to wake him. Even though he looked upbeat last night, he had been exhausted and had declared that he'd bunk down on the couch, not wanting her to worry about preparing one of the bedrooms for him.
"Don't wake Daddy now, sweetie. He'll wake up - "
"He's snorking, Mommy..." came Katie's reply in hushed tones.
"He does that?" Kathryn asked.
"Oh, yes! When Daddy gets very tired, he snorks all the time."
Kathryn noted how Katie said snork instead of snore, in such an engaging mispronunciation very small children did. Owen Paris junior called his sister Miral Mila.
When they were seated, Kathryn couldn't stop looking at her daughter, admiring her long auburn hair and it was a shock to stare into a pair of eyes identical to hers. Kathryn knew it was silly, but looking for Seven of Nine in little Katie only extended so far as Chakotay intimated to Seven's external influence over Katie. Katie resembled her and Chakotay, and Kathryn realised that it must have been difficult raising a daughter who resembled her genetic mother so much.
"I kept all your presents for you, Katie," Kathryn said when she took the first gift and handed it to her daughter. "That was for when you turned a year old."
Katie gasped audibly.
Kathryn felt her throat constrict; her eyes welled up suddenly. Katie tore through the packet and removed a large soft toy.
When they reached the fourth one, Katie was sitting on her lap, opening the gift. Kathryn helped this time, since the package was heavier than the others.
"This is for your birthday and for Christmas now, Katie. I thought you might like your own - "
Katie gasped again and Kathryn wanted to hug her fiercely to her.
"Your very own vid-com."
"Daddy said I was too small to have one..."
"Don't worry, honey, I've programmed things for your age, and there are lots of stories..."
"I can read..."
"So I thought," Kathryn said proudly. Katie's third birthday and Christmas gift was a book containing fairytales.
Katie studied her intently and Kathryn thought the little girl might not be shy for long. Her gaze was direct and Kathryn could sense she was going to ask a very important question.
"Am I going to stay with you all the time?" Katie asked, her question not really so unrelated. The new gift suggested permanency, though up until last night, before they arrived, none of that had been part of her new dimension. She still had to inform her mother and Adam Ponsonby, her sister, the Paris family, others... In the next few minutes, her own vid-com will beep, signaling her mother's Christmas wishes for her. They would be home this afternoon... Kathryn's heart overflowed. She didn't have time to think of everything that would change about her life yet. All she knew, all she wanted right now, was little Katie and Chakotay, and they filled her night and her early Christmas morning.
"Mommy?"
Kathryn sighed. She wondered whether it was too soon for Katie to call her that.
"Katie, you can call me Aunty Kathryn, you know."
Kathryn's heart wanted to break when Katie's eyes filled with tears.
"Then you won't be my Mommy? Am I not the - the daughter of - of Kathryn Jane - Janeway?"
Only then Kathryn froze. Katie was too small to know; Katie was nowhere mature enough to understand, but somehow, her words held a portent of some knowledge she had, knowledge she could only get through...
"Katie, who told you that?"
"Mama. She said I'm not her little girl. I am the daughter of Kathryn Janeway."
Kathryn looked up to where Chakotay lay on the couch, in time to see him pull on his robe and making his way to them.
"Katie?"
"And then she died..." Katie looked up at her father. "Daddy?"
"Mama was right, Katie," Chakotay sighed, "you are Kathryn's little girl."
"I know."
Chakotay, looking from his tearful daughter to Kathryn, who couldn't keep herself from feeling tearful, said, "I'm sorry, Kathryn. For everything." She felt his hand caressing her hair, forgave him, and forgave Seven of Nine for whom the likeness of her daughter to the Captain who guided her to humanity, became too much. She understood. So she hugged her little girl again and when Chakotay cupped her cheek, let her lips burn into his palm.
When Chakotay released her, he moved to where his bag still stood at the side of the couch and rummaged through it, removing a package. Katie scurried after him as if she were afraid to be away from Kathryn too long. She waited as Chakotay handed it to Katie before removing another package.
Katie ran back to Kathryn.
"This is for you," she said in a breathless voice.
"Thank you, sweetie. But you know, honey, you are the most precious gift - "
"Open it," Katie demanded and Kathryn looked at Chakotay who smiled indulgently, but whose eyes held a certain apprehension. Kathryn frowned, then opened the package. She lifted the PADD from the box it lay in.
"Your code, Kathryn. Janeway Lambda..." Chakotay instructed.
"I can look at it later," Kathryn suggested, but Katie was jumping up and down with excitement. Was this something else Katie knew but didn't talk about? Kathryn wondered. Her heart thundered as she initiated the code.
The first image that scrolled was of Katie lying in a crib, perhaps not more than two weeks old. Then another of Katie around four months old, in Chakotay's arms as he held the bottle for her. A smiling, indulgent Chakotay overawed it seemed, with being a Daddy. Then Katie smiled directly into the imager, showing two perfect little teeth. Kathryn's heart contracted painfully. Katie when she took her first stumbling steps; Katie in a stroller as Chakotay pushed her; Katie, looking about three years old, on Chakotay's shoulder, laughing brightly. Then there were studio shots of the child, from birth to her fourth year.
Kathryn had no idea that Chakotay had taken the PADD from her, or that he had lifted Katie into her arms. Her eyes were swimming with tears she didn't bother to hide, and when Katie kissed her wet cheek, she gave a few sobs as she hugged the child fiercely to her, before eventually becoming calm again. She smiled at Katie.
"Thank you, Katie, for these beautiful memories of you. It's - it's wonderful."
"I told Daddy we must bring you pictures of me," Katie offered proudly.
"Well, then I guess I must thank Daddy too, right?"
"Let me first do this," Chakotay said as he tore the wrapping off his gift. There was a sheen in his eyes as he looked at Kathryn. "Once, you told me that your little angel looked rather battered, and I was presumptuous enough to get you a brand new angel for your tree..."
"It's beautiful, Daddy!" Katie crowed.
Kathryn just nodded her assent silently, waiting for Chakotay to remove the old angel and perch the new one at the top of the tree.
"It's the beginning of a new life, for us," he whispered as he pulled her into his arms.
He was about to kiss her when Katie exclaimed loudly, "Daddy! There's me!"
Katie, lifted to a height where she was level with the mantelpiece above the hearth, was pointing to a photograph. Chakotay moved closer and Katie almost pitched out of Kathryn's arms trying to grab the picture She gave a loud, open-mouthed gasp as she held it up. It was a smiling little girl with long auburn hair and blue-grey eyes.
"It's me," Katie whispered with wonder.
Chakotay took the picture from her, hugged Kathryn again fiercely to him and when he held them back so that he could look his daughter in the eyes, his words when they came, were hoarse, filled with deep emotion.
"No, Katie, that is not you in the picture. That is your Mommy when she was a little girl."
**
END
How silently, how silently,
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his heaven.
Phillips Brooks 1835 - 1893
vanhunks
November 2002
