Dr Elizabeth Paris was worried. Kathryn Janeway lay on the biobed with her eyes closed. She had shown little reaction to her report that the baby was fine. Elizabeth studied the readout, watched how the baby's heart beat. She had handed Kathryn a tricorder, but Kathryn had just given a cursory glance, then looked away again.

Kathryn was suffering from depression. Already she had given her patient a mild relaxant, but more she had been hesitant to do. Kathryn's baby was developing well; it was Kathryn who was showing a disturbing lack of interest in her baby.

It worried Elizabeth Paris. It worried her a great deal.

She had received Kathryn's medical records pertaining to her pregnancy from Dr Benaren, Kathryn's physician on the Crimond, who had added a comment to his reports. Dr Benaren was just as concerned and now she, Kathryn's physician here at Starfleet medical, had a problem getting Kathryn excited about her baby. Elizabeth remembered her friend Gretchen's words when Kathryn's mother spoke about how pleased her daughter had been when she discovered she was pregnant.

Now, that had changed.

"Kathryn, your baby is doing fine, under the circumstances - "

"But, Dr Paris?"

Elizabeth sighed. These Starfleet captains gave her a headache. They were stubborn, too headstrong to realise they were wrong, or accept their condition or situation with grace. Kathryn was difficult, but given her circumstances…

"But you are not, Kathryn. It may not be good for Hannah, eventually."

Kathryn sat up slowly on the bed. She was just over seven months pregnant, and feeling the discomfort. She gave Elizabeth a furtive glance before the doctor helped her off the bed.

"You can tell me, Kathryn…" Elizabeth said kindly.

"I - " There was a pause. Kathryn looked away, then, as if she decided to reveal something to the doctor, looked Elizabeth straight in the eyes. "I - Chakotay, he - he is no longer with me, Doctor. You must be aware of that."

Elizabeth moved from the monitor and touched Kathryn's shoulder gently. Then she nodded. There was not a senior official at Headquarters who didn't know that Commander Chakotay and Captain Kathryn Janeway had split up. Captain Janeway was pregnant, due to give birth in December, and her husband was nowhere to be seen, although the Ormskirk had docked at Earth's Orbital station once, as well as at McKinley Station. Surely, the Commander would never have wasted time being by his wife's side?

"Yes…" Elizabeth replied softly. "I know you've parted ways, though I - "

"Don't understand how it could be?" Kathryn asked bitterly.

"You had an unbreakable bond, Kathryn. If - if you ask me, it's still there. Perhaps Commander Chakotay could be informed at least to be present at his child's birth."

"No!" Kathryn reacted vehemently. "No," she repeated more levelly, "I don't think he's interested anymore. Besides, I left him, Doctor, with no indication that we could continue where we left off."

"Where did you leave off, Kathryn?" Elizabeth asked.

She had heard rumours which remained rumours. Nothing was borne out of any fact. The only persons who could possibly know why Kathryn and Chakotay have separated, were Kathryn and Chakotay. Even Dr Benaren couldn't say anything, and Elizabeth doubted where he felt bound by his doctor-patient confidentiality not to divulge anything. Benaren simply didn't know. The only clear fact that was available for Starfleet's rumour mill to roll on, was that Kathryn and Chakotay's troubles started when he had been at Dorvan V during the talks to sign the Federation-Cardassian Treaty. From that point it seemed Kathryn Janeway changed.

Kathryn gave a deep sigh. It look clear to Elizabeth that she felt embarrassed and uncomfortable to say anything more personal. But, if it could help Kathryn out of her lethargy, she'd take anything.

"I know you will keep this in your confidence, Doctor. So I'll tell you the short version: Chakotay cheated on me."

Before Elizabeth had time to recover and open her mouth, Kathryn's hand went up.

"And that's all I can say. A lot has happened in the meantime that has made it impossible to effect a reconciliation, Doctor. So, I'll just have my baby, alone, is that understood?"

Kathryn's lips pursed together after she spoke, her eyes getting a sharp, flinty look in them. Elizabeth hated it when they did that. Going into formal rank mode when they needed to drive home something, giving an order as if she were on her vessel and her order had to be obeyed. Kathryn was heading for more pain. She was seriously in danger of jeopardising her own health and emotional equilibrium. Truth was, Kathryn Janeway was emotionally overwrought, a fact borne out by the way she handled Elizabeth's query. Of course she could have her baby alone, but the dark circles under her eyes, the deep yearning that she didn't realise she revealed, told Elizabeth a different story.

Kathryn wanted her husband. She needed her husband, needed to know he was just round the corner and watching over her, being protective and basking in that protection.

In short, Kathryn missed Chakotay.

"Well, Kathryn, I believe you have a few classes today. I'll see you in two weeks then. Here's some nutrient supplements. Please take it, Kathryn, will you?"

She smiled at her unhappy patient. Kathryn's face remained tense, unsmiling as she took the phials.

"Thank you, Doctor."

When Kathryn left the examining room, Elizabeth Paris stared long at the door through which her patient exited. There was little she could do except ensure that Kathryn's baby at least, was safe and healthy, which was the case at present. For the rest, she was hitting an impasse with her patient who seemed too implacable to listen to good advice. It could also be that Kathryn was simply unable to deal with her husband's defection, and that was something difficult to try and convince Kathryn: that she should kiss and make up with Chakotay. While she had been examined, Kathryn had never once rubbed her belly, or caressed her baby like she had seen so many mothers-to-be do when they were in their third trimester. No secret looks, or loving whispers, nothing. It disturbed Elizabeth.

As miraculous as Kathryn and Chakotay's first meeting was when they arrived at the Command Performance and everyone had stood awed at the complete and obvious chemistry and attraction between the two, so miraculous was their union, their relationship. For something as deep and abiding as that to have foundered, was almost impossible to grasp, as was clear from her conversations with Owen Paris, Adam Ponsonby and Gretchen Janeway.

She sighed as she stacked away her instruments. Minutes later her surgery looked ready for her next patient. When the patient entered, Elizabeth Paris was still thinking of the sad look on Kathryn Janeway's face.

***

Kathryn was glad it was weekend. She was tired, her back had started giving her trouble and she missed Chakotay. It didn't matter how she tried to get him out of her mind, or how busy she made herself, he crept back in her mind, where he remained, unseen yet so tangible. Every time her thoughts went to him, it was accompanied with such a vortex of emotions that her heart beat faster and she found it difficult to concentrate. In one of her classes a young cadet, also of Native American origin, was just another reminder of Chakotay. She couldn't get away fast enough as she imagined the fresh-faced cadet to be a younger version of Chakotay.

Those times she tried recalling good memories, they were always intercepted by the bad ones. Most of the time she would see Chakotay's face as he tried to expiate his guilt, or see Sedeka's face when she informed her that she and Chakotay had made a baby together. Kathryn had been through hell that first week after Sedeka's devastating news, and her hurt had made her lash out at Chakotay. It was difficult to get beyond that reality, a reality which her errant husband had created. Kathryn looked down at her own swollen belly. In less than two months she would give birth, but she didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to think about the prospect of raising her baby without the baby's father. She knew she had to, but her initial extreme joy when she heard that she was pregnant, had made place for bitterness, a hatred almost, towards Chakotay.

Once he had loved her. Now, he was part of Sedeka's world. It wasn't that difficult to realise that when she called Sergei Karkoff on the Crimond a month ago. She had wanted to make contact with Chakotay, was not certain that he'd want to talk to her. She wanted to tell Chakotay about the baby, just like she had wanted to when she went to Dorvan V. Sergei was Chakotay's best friend, and she thought naturally that he would know whether Chakotay's state of mind was such that he would listen to her. When Sergei bumbled uncharacteristically through an explanation of Chakotay's absence from the Ormskirk, it didn't take much intelligence to deduce that Chakotay had gone to Sedeka. Sergei... Kathryn sighed. Sergei inadvertently revealed that Chakotay had gone to rendezvous with the Vetar, a Cardassian vessel.

Sedeka was on that vessel. What official business could Chakotay have with Sedeka if it weren't give the mother of his unborn baby support? Kathryn gave a shudder. And, Chakotay would most likely have resumed their explosive relationship. He would most probably lie with Sedeka and make love to her. He would most probably enjoy spreading Sedeka's legs and settle himself between them. He would most probably kiss Sedeka in an intimacy once reserved for his wife. Kathryn closed her eyes and tried to banish those meandering, betraying thoughts.

Lately she had wanted to punish herself mercilessly by imagining Chakotay with Sedeka. She tortured herself with those images, inflicted pain on herself so intensely that most nights she just sat up straight in her bed and stared into nothingness... sit still all night. She had begun to welcome the darkness, picturing her husband and his lover together, how they would make love, how Chakotay would stroke his lover's stomach protectively. Then the old bitterness took hold of Kathryn again and she would feel anew the pain as it pierced her heart.

Now that her short teaching stint at the Academy was completed, the only joy she took in her life was that she was back in Indiana. She hadn't wanted to go back to their apartment in San Francisco, and had instead, stayed at her mother's apartment which Phoebe and Rodea sometimes used. The home she and Chakotay shared had too many memories. She wanted to get away from it, wanted to prevent herself from lapsing into old, happy recollections, only to wake up to the reality that Chakotay was still gone and that he'll never come back.

She sat down under the tree - their tree, she thought sadly - groaning a little as she went down into a sitting position on the afghan she had spread out. Ceara had barked excitedly as she tried to clamber over her mistress, but Kathryn caught her and gave her a quick cuddle. The dog whimpered before it settled against her, her head pressed against Kathryn's belly as if she tried to feel the baby's kicking. Kathryn shrugged cynically. What wouldn't she have given to have Chakotay rub her belly, rub her aching back. Why should he? He was already safely draped all over Sedeka. Kathryn could feel the baby kick, but it was just a fact that registered absently. She hadn't prepared anything for the baby. No crib, no mobile, no soft baby clothes that could thaw the coldness inside her. Nothing to make her look forward to the child. She guessed that she was still in some shock, even months later, but the prospect of feeding, of letting the baby suckle on a nipple, held no excitement.

"Dear God," she prayed softly. "I know I shouldn’t feel like this. I can't help it. My baby will need a mother and I'm not certain if I can be one if I don't look forward to her birth..."

Kathryn leaned against the trunk and closed her eyes. Except for painful thoughts of Chakotay, she felt dead inside. A cold, deep darkness had settled in her heart. Once after Sedeka had sent holo-vids to her, Kathryn had thought that she could reach out to Chakotay again and accept him back in her life. She had not had much pride then, thinking she'd take him back because she didn't want to lose him, that she loved him so much she could overlook his transgression as an aberration, a one off incident she had witnessed. Then came the second blow. Sedeka was pregnant. It was so possible, so perfectly possible, yet the thought never entered her head. And Sedeka... She wasted no time telling her how close she and Chakotay had become.

So when Chakotay called just after Sedeka, his words corroborated Sedeka's claims. He wanted to tell her something, something important, something that couldn't wait. That must have been what he wanted to tell her: his lover was pregnant with a child fathered by him. Chakotay with a wife who was pregnant and a lover who was pregnant. She wondered idly if Sergei told Chakotay of her condition. The occasions she had wanted to, it just turned into such a terrible catastrophe of anger and bitterness and missed signals. Especially when Sedeka called her again after she shut him off. She could still hear Sedeka's wheedling, syrupy voice.

"So, Captain Janeway, has Chakotay told you our wonderful news?"

She had closed communication so abruptly that she hardly noticed how her hands were shaking. Chakotay could go to hell. But Kathryn steeled herself at such irrational outpourings of anger and considered - or tried to - rationally, Chakotay's role in her own child's life. Chakotay deserved to know about the baby. As the father, she couldn't deny him that right. That was what her head said. Her heart was the organ overriding cold logic and rationale and which turned her into a seething mass of indecision and the urge to hurt Chakotay back for what he had done to her. On some level, she acknowledged that a man could stray from his partner, even though their relationship was rock solid. She could even accept that a wife who was the injured party, could take the husband back and accept that he had made a mistake.

But her heart burned with shame and humiliation. She felt weak, inadequate that she could not mean enough to her husband for him to remain loyal to her.

And so, every time she thought of Chakotay and saw again how Sedeka sat impaled on him, Kathryn's heart betrayed her, made her unforgiving, made her want to punish him. Yes, she would like to see him beg for mercy when the chips were down for him. She would like to see him in dark tunnels she found herself in and unable to come out; that he can remain there and think about what he had done to her.

She must have dozed off because she jerked to wakefulness when Ceara suddenly pricked her ears and clambered off her lap.

"What's wrong, Ceara? You spotted a bird? Unlucky bird. I hope it gets away..."

The dog gave a few short barks as she turned in the direction of the small copse at the end of the shuttle launching pad, not a hundred metres away. Kathryn hadn't seen any flitter arrive or even a shuttle... She should speak to Phoebe about security around the property for unauthorised landings.

The dog looked back at Kathryn, as if unsure when to move, when her curiosity won out and she started moving.

"Come here, sweetie," Kathryn encouraged the dog, but now it had run off in the direction of the clump of trees. Kathryn grinned as she watched the dog, still much of a large pup really, run ungainly away from her.

"Come back here!" Kathryn said, her voice trailing into softness, then trailed away completely as she realised Ceara was not in Obedience Mode.

She gave another sigh and leaned back against the tree. Chakotay's image flashed before her, and strangely, this time, it was a smiling Chakotay with deep dimples as he looked the night she first saw him when he stood in her doorway.

"Not until I met you, Kathryn, darling..."

She didn’t realise how her hands had gone to her belly for the first time, in a soft, gentle caress. She did not feel the tears as they dripped hotly on her hands.

***

He stood in the shadows of the copse and in the distance he could see her. She stood under their oak tree, the one that had become theirs. He knew if he stood by the tree, he could still see the heart he had carved there with their names inside the heart. That day they had been like two teenagers in love; they were in a mood to do sentimental things.

"I'm only eternalising our names," he had said when she asked why he wanted to chop down a tree with a pocket knife.

"Oh?"

"Kathryn, honey, you should be glad it's not my hunting knife I'm using..."

"I give up," she had said when she stood next to him and saw how neatly he had drawn the heart and carved their names. "Chakotay loves KJ..." she had murmured lovingly. "I like that. I like that...very much..."

Then he took her into his arms and together they looked at it and talked about their future. Kathryn's fingers had traced the outlines again, and the next moment her fingers - the same ones that touched the heart, touched his lips. His eyes had closed and for a few wild seconds he despaired of ever losing Kathryn. He wondered then how she could love him with so much fire and loyalty, how she could give her whole heart to him without condition. Kathryn did and with that she had given him the rarest of all gifts: her life for his.

Still, even from the distance he was looking, something about Kathryn's stance disturbed him a little. Not once did she rub over her belly and touch her unborn child with the kind of fierce motherly pride and love and protection he had seen Svetlana do, or the way he had seen his mother caress her belly when she was pregnant with his sister Roshana. Kathryn stood with her hands at her sides and the dog stood around, lapping at her ankles. Chakotay smiled. It was probably Ceara, looking ungainly as she changed from pup to dog. He wondered if Kathryn did name the dog Ceara....

When Kathryn sat down on the afghan, the dog made herself comfortable against Kathryn, nuzzling her nose against her mistress the resting her head against her belly. Kathryn stroked the dog and Chakotay grimaced. She wasn't stroking her own swollen belly. His baby was in there... His baby...their baby...

"Love her please, Kathryn," he pleaded softly. "Love her please. She's innocent. I'm the one who screwed up..."

It was a vain plea. Kathryn leaned back against the tree, her hands at her side. Chakotay sighed. He had become a little demented in the sickbay of the Ormskirk when Sergei informed him of Kathryn's pregnancy. He had gone cold with shock; the heat suffused his face and then he almost beat his friend up. If it hadn't been for the nurse and two crewmen who entered sick bay, there was no knowing just how seriously he could have injured his friend. Sergei had been apologetic and he had controlled himself enough to hold back from killing Sergei.

It wasn't Sergei's fault. Hell, it wasn't even Kathryn's fault. She must have wanted to tell him. But he couldn't blame her. She was under the impression that Sedeka was pregnant by him. No one else knew of that except Sergei, and he was talking to no one. The unhappy truth was that Sedeka wasn't, so how would Kathryn know that Sedeka had just meant to inflict more pain, by telling her a lie? How could he tell her?

Now he stood looking at his wife. He couldn't stay away, God help him. He just couldn't. Inside Kathryn was the connection, a baby they wanted so badly. How many nights hadn't they talked of another baby? How many times hadn't he told her to be patient? Now, he was drawn to Kathryn, and again the old unbelievably strong attraction pulled him towards her. He wanted to touch her, hold her in his arms and kiss her, tell her everything would be alright. He wanted to caress their unborn child and whisper to his baby, like he had seen Sergei do with Svetlana. He didn't have much pride left. All he wanted to do, was try once more...once more... He must tell her Sedeka was not pregnant...tell her everything...

"I must go to her," he whispered softly. "I must go and tell her and relieve her of that burden..."

He took one step forward, then stalled as something pressed against him. Chakotay turned ice cold.

"Take one step, Chakotay, and I'll not hesitate to kill you."

Phoebe Janeway.

He flinched but kept his gaze on Kathryn in the distance. She looked like she was dozing as she leaned against the trunk of the oak. Phoebe's voice bristled with ill-contained anger. She was livid enough to carry out her threat if he moved. When he stirred, the phaser dug harder into his back, but he didn't flinch again..

"I won't. Put away the phaser."

"Oh no, I'll take my chances with a suspended sentence, Chakotay. You don't move. Better still, leave."

Chakotay turned and blanched at the look in Phoebe's eyes. She really looked dangerously on the brink of killing him. And, she didn't put away the phaser. He wondered how she got there so stealthily.

"I will leave. I wasn't planning on staying. Kathryn…she looks - "

"Unhappy? Bitter? In deep depression? Like her life is over because someone - you! - had just crushed her heart - "

Chakotay pushed the phaser so it didn't point at him.

"I get the message," he said bleakly.

"I don't think you do," she shot back at him. "Did Kathryn tell you about Justin and how he died?" When Chakotay nodded, Phoebe looked at where her sister was sitting, then back at Chakotay. "She almost died, did you know?"

"She told me she was depressed - "

"Hallelujah! Did she tell you what it did to her family watching her slide into an abyss from where they feared she'd never come out of? Did she? Did Kathryn tell you that she stopped eating for days and literally, before our very eyes, withered away?"

What Phoebe was telling him, Chakotay could only imagine. He wasn't privy to Kathryn's past pain; he appreciated what detail Kathryn did give him, understanding that they had a lifetime to tell one another those episodes from their lives that pained them most. What Phoebe was telling him, shocked him a little. It didn't sound like his Kathryn. She was so strong, so together, that falling apart at the seams seemed so far away. He couldn't reconcile the Kathryn he knew with one who withered away in her bed, not coming out of the darkness because the light was too blinding. Light meant reality; it meant facing what was inevitable, dealing with it and coming to terms with it. Darkness meant illusion where she could imagine a charade where everything appeared what it was before, except, it wasn't real.

That Kathryn had been there, pained him anew. He never meant to hurt her. He didn't ever want to see her hurt, or unhappy. But he had been given only a glimpse then of the unhappy Kathryn. Only a glimpse. Phoebe and her mother had been there, when Kathryn refused to reach for the light.

"I'm sorry, Phoebe. I really am…I never meant to harm Kathryn. You know that, Phoebe. There are - were…circumstances…"

It was as if Phoebe ignored his plea.

"So help me out here, you jerk. Kathryn could eventually deal with a Justin who was dead. After all, death is real, it is final. Justin will never come back. But Chakotay is alive and well and fucking his way through Sector 450 while his wife is pregnant and knows how he shacked himself up with his lover. I should be very happy, thank you very much," she bit out sarcastically.

"Phoebe, spirits! You too angry right now…"

"Damned right I'm angry!" There was a furious flash in her eyes, and when she turned to look at her sister again in the distance, Chakotay saw the equally fierce family pride, the kind that made relatives want to kill if one of their own were hurt by a third party. Chakotay didn't feel part of the family in those moments Phoebe looked at Kathryn, and for a moment the old insecurity overwhelmed him again. He felt shut out, unable to explain himself, unable to gain entry. He knew he screwed up, knew that he screwed…

Phoebe turned to him.

"You broke her heart, Chakotay. Maybe that thought needs qualification. You didn't break Kathryn's heart," she said vehemently, a mist forming in her eyes. "You just broke her, Chakotay. You plain and simple broke her. Once before, my mother and I were there and we picked Kathryn up from the depths of the abyss she sank into. Once before, we were able to revive her battered spirit, to get her fighting back again." Phoebe paused, taking a deep breath. "Chakotay, my sister crawled her way out, you hear me? She crawled out of the darkness, barely able to walk, but she did. She took her first faltering steps and didn't look back…"

Phoebe's eyes shone with angry tears. Chakotay stood still, his hands at his sides. He was unable to respond to Phoebe's heated defense of her sister. How could he respond? Everything Phoebe Janeway said was true. She didn't lie.

"You once said you'd rather die than hurt Kathryn…" Phoebe said again, a little calmer than before, but no less angered by his presence on the Janeway property.

"I meant it, Phoebe," he replied quietly.

"Then, Chakotay, as far as Kathryn is concerned, you are dead. You don't deserve her. You've already destroyed her. Look at her, Chakotay. What do you see? A person who is broken? Devastated? A person who lies in her dark room contemplating how she could ever love the offspring of a man who ruined her life? Does she look like that? No, right? Because, Chakotay, that's how Kathryn is. Outwardly calm, you'll never think anything is wrong. Not if you don't know her or is an acquaintance. But I am pretty damned certain you can see how she suffers. It's in the things she doesn't do, isn't it?"

His face lost all colour when Phoebe said that. He looked away, trying to avert her gaze, but Phoebe spoke again, every word crushing him, driving him further and further away.

Kathryn's suffering could be seen in the things she didn't do…How true...

"She never speaks about the baby, Chakotay," Phoebe cut into his thoughts. "She never caresses her belly like I've seen some pregnant women do, with that secret little smile, you know. She doesn't touch. She used to, a lot, before the Cardassian entered the picture. Now, that's what you see. Kathryn would rather stroke that dog you gave her, than acknowledge her baby. I know her name is to be Hannah, but Kathryn never speaks to her baby, never addresses her as Hannah…It's as if she has no identity."

No identity. Jaime had identity.

Chakotay's hand reached for Phoebe in an entreating gesture. When he saw her expression, his hand dropped again.

"Phoebe, then let me - "

"Keep away from her, Chakotay, for as God is my witness, I'll kill you. My sister is heading for the abyss, and this time, I'm not certain whether we'll ever be able to make her crawl out of it again…"

Their attention was diverted for a moment when the dog suddenly jumped up, as if it heard their voices. It ran towards them, yelping excitedly. Chakotay watched as Kathryn tried to raise herself from the ground, her waving hands indicating she was calling the dog back. Then Phoebe's voice cut in: cold, resolute. The phaser was pointed at him again. He knew what she was going to say and he gave a resigned sigh.

"Leave, Chakotay…."

Chakotay looked one last time at Kathryn, felt the old terrible burn behind his eyelids. He reached for his pocket and took out the site-to-site transporter. He keyed in the coordinates.

"Goodbye, Phoebe," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

In the next second, a soft glissando, and Chakotay was gone.

***

Chakotay materialised in his apartment with Phoebe's words still ringing in his ears. He threw the transporter down on the coffee table and looked around him. It was afternoon, but already the cold had started to creep into his bones. The walkways were lined with trees of which their growth was so controlled that they looked artificial. It was such a major difference from Indiana and the Janeways' farm. There, he could see even from where he stood, the leaves of the giant oak under which Kathryn sat, floating to the ground and settling softly around her. It was fall... Once she had taken a leaf and removed it from her hair, and smiled up at him.

It was such a familiar gesture that he gave a little sob at the memory. He calmed himself quickly. He had to be on the Ormskirk in four days and there were so many things he wanted to tie up.

Tie up. It sounded so final. How final, was only underscored by Phoebe's heated tirade against him. She hated him. He couldn't look her in the eyes again and tell her of his innocence. What much did it help now? Phoebe believed the worst, and so did Kathryn. Only in Phoebe's case, she was unforgiving, unmoved by his entreaty.

Kathryn...

"Maybe one day, Chakotay... Maybe one day I can forgive you..."

He tried to cling to those words. No matter what happened to him in future, no matter where he was, he'd like to remember those words of Kathryn.

But now, he had things to do. Leave, as Phoebe so heartlessly said. He was going to leave anyway. There was Kathryn and there was the baby that could keep him here. It was possible to teach again at the Academy. But, he had no intention of facing the humiliating prospect of pleading once more with to remain within her orbit and share something of her aura, only to have her reject him again.

He closed himself ruthlessly from that thought. In his bedroom he collected his duffel and started packing a few things. He would not return to this apartment again. Kathryn was free to use it, though he doubted that. Still, he wanted to keep it. He could hope, couldn't he?

Hope...

The bottom drawer was pulled open. A few PADDS, mostly poetry he had downloaded from the Ormskirk's database, some private logs which he had once told Kathryn she was free to read. He had nothing to hide, so he hid nothing. The PADDS were taken out and stacked neatly on the bed. He went back to the drawer and his eyes fixed on the oblong silver box. He grimaced. Kathryn had never asked him what was in it and on their wedding day she had admitted that she thought he was going to give her the box.

Chakotay lifted the box out and opened it. He felt the burning in his eyes again. A nineteenth century analogue watch secured on a silver fob chain lay nestled on the bed of black velvet. He removed the watch, and his fingers trembled as the chain dangled over his hand. He turned the watch and looked at the inscription on the back.

He gave a deep sigh and put the watch carefully back in the case. He looked at the other collectibles on the bed, then on an impulse put the case back in the drawer. He was a little cramped when he rose to his feet again and walked with his things to the lounge, placing them on the coffee table. He had not taken these things with him on his missions into the Beta and Gamma Quadrants and other sectors of deep space. He had always been happy enough with his silver framed photograph of Kathryn in uniform, that stood on his desk in his office on the Ormskirk, the small photograph of her laughing, her hair loose and fanning in the breeze with the sun caught in its strands. For a moment he closed his eyes and felt his chest constrict with pain. His medicine wheel he brought from the Ormskirk as well as his medicine bundle, joined the rest of the items.

"This," he said bitterly, "is the sum total of my life..."

He thought of Kathryn as he saw her, leaning against their oak. He was worried about her, seriously concerned at what Phoebe said and what he could see for himself.

"I ruined her life...I ruined her life... Forgive me, Kathryn...I never meant any of this to happen..."

He felt restless, and at the same time with some purpose to his movements. He looked at his chair. Kathryn bought it for him when he revealed his inclination to relax, recline with a good book.. It was his favourite chair. Kathryn had also made certain that there was one in her quarters on the Crimond. A few times they had made love in his chair. Strange. It was always his chair. Once Kathryn said no one dared sit in it except him...

He had collected a few books, and his latest was a twentieth century edition of Omar Khayyam's Rubaiyat. The small bookshelf he and Kathryn shared looked empty. Kathryn's books were gone and she had so enjoyed reading Austen's "Persuasion". All her belongings were gone. The three drawers she appropriated when she first moved in with him, were empty.

"There is nothing...not even a memory," he whispered as he settled himself in front of his vid-com.

He prepared a message for Doctor Paris, who was Kathryn's physician.

He wanted to put "my wife's pregnancy" but thought in the circumstances it bore no more meaning.

Commander Chakotay.

Chakotay stared with dark eyes at the screen. Then he entered the exact time and date the message had to reach Doctor Paris. When he had done that, he sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes wearily. He leaned forward again to prepare another message, but on an impulse he got up and walked to the replicator in the small dining room. For a few seconds he scratched his head, and bit his lower lip. He smiled grimly as he remembered how many times Kathryn had bitten on her lower whenever she concentrated on something. He walked into the second bedroom. They had never used it and it stood empty. When Kathryn had been pregnant with Jaime, they were going to convert the room to a nursery...

He walked quickly out of the room to the small alcove he used as an office and sat down again.

"Message to Sergei Karkoff."

He waited only a minute before Sergei's face appeared on the screen.

"Comrade! What can I do for you?" Sergei asked jovially.

"Sergei, get Svetlana on the other vid-com."

"We have two, Comrade?"

"You got Anatoly one on his last birthday against everyone's wishes. Now, will you get Svetlana?"

"Okay...Okay..." Sergei turned in his chair and shouted to Svetlana who carried little Irina on her hips when she appeared in view. Svetlana smiled sweetly at him.

"What can we do for you, Chakotay?"

"I have two days to convert my second bedroom into a nursery..."

"Kathryn's back?" Sergei asked hopefully. It seemed his face knocked into his screen as he pitched forward.

"No, but I can hope, can't I?"

"Great!" said Sergei eagerly. "Give us two hours..."

***

Three days later

Sergei and Svetlana had been gone hours, but Chakotay still remained standing in the bedroom that was now a nursery. The soft, muted light gave a warm glow to the room, like peace had sifted down on the crib with its pink bedding and frills; kissed Hannah's name that graced the headboard in beautiful cursive strokes; where the light danced playfully as the mobile moved. There were carvings of eagles, and starships hanging on the mobile....

"It's to remind our baby of our work and our spirit..." he had said to Kathryn then, when they were still expecting their first baby.

"Science and belief..."

"Yes..."

Chakotay looked with pride at the gleaming rocking chair he made. He hadn't slept in two days, though Svetlana and Sergei had gone home every evening. Svetlana had been brilliant. In no time, the room had been painted, the baby furniture had been ordered and arranged, with the chest of drawers filled with baby clothing. Svetlana had been adamant about the rocking chair.

"Do you want me to order a rocking chair, Comrade?" Sergei asked, ducking at the same time he asked the question.

"Good that you duck, my brother. You know I'll make that myself."

"Fine, go ahead."

So, in the space of two days, the room's spartan appearance changed into a baby room, warm, comforting, ready... Over on the long dresser, he had stacked Flotter and Treevis and other soft toys. In the corner was the bath stand. He looked at the crib again and pictured Hannah lying on her tummy, with her head turned to her side, and her little thumb firmly in her mouth. Chakotay remembered an old Earth song, one Svetlana had sung first for Anatoly, then for Irina.

With a deep, satisfied sigh, Chakotay closed the door and walked to the replicator.

"It doesn't matter that almost all my credits have been used up," he muttered under his breath. "Now for the last of my credits..."

He stood in front of the replicator and drew in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

"Computer, rice paper, colour off-white."

At the table he sat down, the paper in front of him and the pen he also replicated, in his hand. He sat a long time completely still, staring absently at the blank paper. Images flitted in his mind. Kathryn sitting on his lap in his big chair. Kathryn lying on their bed on her stomach, her chin propped on her hand as she braced herself on her elbow, watching him through half-closed eyelids. Kathryn mad at him because he didn't pick up after him when she had to use the bathroom. Kathryn's expression when he kissed her madness away.

Kathryn gasping as she writhed under him...

"Oh, Kathryn..." he cried softly, giving in to the sobs he had held at bay since Phoebe had threatened to phaser a hole through his body.

When he could calm down again, Chakotay took up his pen and started writing.

****