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You were the promise at dawn,
I was the morning after.
You were Jesus Christ my Lord,
I was the money lender.
You were the sensitive woman,
I was the very reverend Freud.
You were the manual orgasm,
I was the dirty little boy.
And is this what you wanted
to live in a house that is haunted
by the ghost of you and me?
2404
Azure skies clashed brilliantly against the almost effervescent green of the landscape, as birds called to each other across the distance. Autumn was on its way; summer days were shortening and an almost imperceptible nip was in the breeze that gently blew across the rolling hills. A lone figure stood, as she often did, at the crest of a gentle slope looking out across the land.
The years had taken more than just their toll on her. They’d taken everything that had once made her who she was. Slowly and definitely, she’d been stripped of all that had signified the Kathryn Janeway who had left Earth, leaving only a brutalized shell of a woman imprisoned behind the pips and command armor. Years later, a shell was just what she was, hidden behind rank bars and belts, beneath a stony exterior that had become natural and no longer an act. She had lived the majority of her life as this woman, so much that the years before seemed more of a fantasy than distant memory.
Crouching down, she placed her hands on the cool stone she’d come to see. Admittedly, it had been a while. Her visits had become less frequent in the last few months. Too many preparations to arrange, amidst the tedium of her day-to-day life as an admiral. It almost made her miss the days in the Delta Quadrant, despite how they had turned out. The fucking Delta Quadrant.
How much had the journey through that godforsaken quadrant cost her? She couldn’t even begin to measure. By the time Voyager had limped into the Alpha Quadrant, bruised and battered, just as her crew, Janeway had lost far more than she’d gained.
For 23 years, she had led her people through disaster after disaster, like Moses guiding his people through the desert to the promised land. A planet, that no longer held the same appeal as it once did. She struggled, she fought, she lost so many people, including herself, to that journey. One in which she clung steadfast to the Federation’s tenets as if they were God’s spoken words. Only to crawl, parched and burnt, upon the sands of a planet that was no longer home.
It was still hard to admit, even to herself, but she’d left her relatively safe haven 10 years ago. Despite being displaced in the Delta Quadrant, Voyager had become the only home she never knew she’d wanted. Her crew the only family. When they’d arrived back on Earth, her mother had already passed away, and her sister had tried to reconcile, but they were such different people by that time, there was no use. Slowly they’d drifted apart, to a relationship based on awkward com calls on holidays and the occasional birthday greeting.
Turning her thoughts back to the reason she was here, she looked down, her thumb tracing the engraved name of her former first officer, her best friend. For one brief, glorious moment in time, her lover.
2394
The stars of the Beta Quadrant zoomed past as the quiet hum of Voyager’s warp engine lulled Captain Janeway into a daze. Soon, very soon, they would be passing the invisible line that marked the border between the Beta and Alpha Quadrants. Soon, they would be back, if not home, at least they’d be in the home-run. She let her mind wander for a few minutes, her vision blurring as her eyes rested on the viewscreen. What would home be like?
A gentle tap on her hand brought her out of the reverie and she turned to see the sullen face of her first officer. His eyes were dark, his face stretched taut over hollowed cheekbones that had once proudly displayed dimples; dimples that at one time she’d harbored very un-Captain-like thoughts about. But those days were long gone.
“It’s shift change,” he said. She blinked as she looked up to see crewmembers switching out stations. Nodding, she stood and made her way to the turbolift, stepping aside as he joined her.
Silently, they made their way to deck three, and she looked up at him as he nodded briefly at her before making his way into his quarters. The gentle swish of his door closing sounded deafening to her, as it always did, and she shook her head softly as she finished her journey to her quarters. She called for lights as she walked to her replicator, quickly ordering a cup of vegetable bouillon. Her appetite was nonexistent these days, and she knew without looking in a mirror that she resembled Chakotay, gaunt and drawn. Both shadows of their former selves.
Resting her back against the couch she’d settled on, she lifted her feet to lay against the coffee table. She inhaled the mild scent of her soup and took a small sip. Her eyes slipped closed and she laid back against the sofa.
A soft trill from her door startled her awake a few minutes later, and she grimaced as the forgotten cooled broth sloshed onto her hand. Shaking her hand off, she stood and stared at the door, momentarily thinking she had dreamt the disruption.
A second later, her door chimed again, and her eyes widened. When was the last time someone had visited her in her quarters? When was the last time she’d even invited someone? Years, it seemed.
She cleared her throat as her eyebrows drew together in confusion and surprise. “Come,” she called out hoarsely.
The door, unable to sense her hesitation, opened smoothly revealing her visitor. Chakotay stood in the hallway, peering inside. She swallowed reflexively as she once again took in his appearance. What had happened to them? Well, she knew what had happened. She still carried the scars of that loss.
“Commander,” she called out, waving her arm out to usher him in. “What can I do for you?”
He stepped inside cautiously, his eyes darting around what had once been familiar quarters to him. She watched with tired eyes as his gaze rested on the empty darkened dining table, and wondered briefly if he’d missed their dinners as much as she had.
He looked up at her and ran a hand through his gray hair. After the accident that had ultimately taken Seven from him, them, he’d let his hair go gray, no longer darkening the pigment. Janeway thought he looked even more handsome, distinguished with his silver hair, but then again, she’d always found that to be attractive; found him to be attractive.
“I just talked to Jenkins on the bridge, and she alerted me that we should be in the Alpha Quadrant within the next few hours. I thought you’d like to know. We should be home within a few weeks. You did it, Captain. You got us home.” He looked at her, his eyes hardened, his once full lips drawn tight in a thin line.
“Don’t count your chickens, Commander,” she replied quietly as she sat back down on her sofa, holding her hand out to the chair beside her, the one that he used to habitually sit in, before.
He nodded and sat down, his exhaustion apparent in his posture. He slumped heavily against the back of the chair, his hand rubbing across his jaw. A sigh escaped from him and she bit her lip at his obvious fatigue. His gaze rested on her, and had she not been as weary as she was, she would have squirmed slightly. It had been years since she’d felt his eyes on her, and her body reacted as if it had encountered an oasis in the middle of a barren land. Unfortunately, she knew this was only a mirage.
“What happened to us?” he asked, echoing her earlier thoughts, his voice so low in the stillness that she almost didn’t hear.
She stared back at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she fought back the obvious reply.
He continued, “I mean, I know what happened. Clearly, that day will always be forever burned into my memory. But what happened to us? We were once friends, weren’t we?”
Friends. Yes, they had been friends. At one time, she had wanted oh so much more. Then, she had known beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had desired the same thing. However, looking back, she questioned it all. Objectively, she had known he wouldn’t wait for her, she couldn’t ask that of him, but she would never forget the soul-crushing blow when she learned of his relationship with Seven.
And then, to be the one to officiate their wedding. She’d been devastated, hopeless, and, more than anything, irrepressibly angry. How many times had she laid in her bed, working herself furiously to an unattainable release, knowing that just on the other side of the bulkhead Chakotay and his wife were making love? For months, she’d tried to bring herself a modicum of relief, only to be brought out of it at the thought. She’d even gone as far as replicating several devices to help, replicator logs be damned. Nothing had worked. Just another thing the Delta Quadrant had taken from her.
Now, here he was, her former best friend, sitting across from her after years of emotional distance, no matter the relative cramped quarters of Voyager. She felt that anger start to well up inside of her, and had she not been so exhausted, may have even let it overtake her. The weariness of her bones, however, washed the anger away and she just blinked, her eyes misting over in a sheen of tears.
“Chakotay,” her voice seemed harsh in the stillness, “I’ve always considered you my closest friend. That has never and will never change.”
He was quiet for a moment as he continued to look at her, his eyes drinking in the sight of her as if he was seeing her for the first time in years. And maybe he was. She couldn’t actually remember the last time they’d been in the same room for more than a few minutes, much less just the two of them with no barriers between.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered. His quiet admission felt like an explosion in her soul. “All these years, Kathryn. I’ve missed you so much.”
Her breath caught in her throat and she coughed, choking on the air that had tried to escape. Eyes watering, she brought her hand up to her chest and hit her breastbone with a fist to try and stop the choking cloistered feeling that had gripped her heart.
He quickly moved, kneeling down onto the floor in front of her as his hand reached behind and patted harshly against her back in an effort to help. Her breathing returned to rhythm and her coughing subsided. Reaching up, she brushed the tears away from her cheeks that had unexpectedly fallen from her eyes, whether in response to his admission, or to her choking, she couldn’t be sure. He’d called her Kathryn. Not Captain. She hadn’t been Kathryn to him, or anyone for that matter, for so long, the sound of her name rolling off his tongue sounded foreign to her.
She looked into his eyes again, now level with hers as he knelt before her. “I haven’t gone anywhere,” her voice trembled despite her strength, which was quickly fleeing under the weight of his gaze.
He shook his head. “No, but I did.” Moving his hands from her back, he reached hers where they were fisted together in her lap. Gently, he pulled them apart and wove his fingers through hers.
She looked down at their entwined hands, shocked once again at how time had aged them, had removed the soft gentle curves only to leave behind harsh lines and edges. As if of its own accord, her thumb moved across the hard peaks of his knuckles. She heard his soft gasp of breath and swallowed as she looked up to catch his gaze.
His eyes had darkened in the low light of her quarters and she found hers fastened to him. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips, and she swallowed as his eyes moved down to watch. She squirmed slightly under his scrutiny, her body awakening as if from a deep sleep. Her heart hammered in her chest as her breathing quickened. She felt his breath against her cheeks and knew that he was feeling the same thing.
Her eyes moved from his down to his lips in answer, and her breath caught in her throat once again, as she saw him move in towards her. As if she was no longer in control, her eyes slid shut, and her heart stuttered as she felt the first tentative brush of his lips against hers. For a few moments, they seemed both content to just let their lips rest against each other, sharing their breath. Then, something ignited and lips moved, arms wrapped around each other and bodies crushed together.
They weren’t as young as they’d once been. The years had not been kind, the journey even less so. However, as they pulled the clothing from each other, revealing hidden secrets, time seemed to regress and for a moment, they were back at the beginning of their journey. Their burdens melted away. Their hopelessness, their anger, their grief all evaporated away in an instant, this one moment where it was only the two of them, finally, completely.
Later, as they laid in each others arms, their sweat soaked skin cooling in the air of her bedroom, she reflected on all the years that had led to this moment. When she had gotten the call from Jenkins on the bridge that they had entered the Alpha Quadrant, she had basked in the feel of him against her, finally as they entered the last leg of their journey. Deeper in the night, she had tried to rouse him from his slumber, only to rise with a panic as she felt his cooling skin, much cooler than it should have been after their activity. She had cried out in desperation as she had screamed for the Doctor who had not been the slightest bit surprised to find them in her bed together. She had fallen numbly to the ground as he’d explained Chakotay’s heart condition, and the fact that his weakened heart could no longer take the strain of their journey. She had blearily instructed the Doctor to keep his body in stasis for the remaining weeks of their journey, so she could bury him on Earth. She’d wept in the life-altering silence that followed, as she once again felt the immense weight of her decisions crush down upon her; wondering if his death was just another notch added to the long line of those for which she was responsible. Had she taken the time to look at him, study him for a moment, in any of the past decade, perhaps she'd have seen the deterioration in his health. But she hadn't. And he was gone.
2404
Admiral Kathryn Janeway blinked as the sun came out from behind a cloud for a moment, the light glinting off the gravestone under her fingers. His name lit up against the darkened stone and she let her eyes drift over his name, as if she was tracing the planes of his face.
She sighed inwardly and let her fingers run across his name, as they once did his knuckles, her fingers stuttering over the hills and valleys of the inscription.
“Any final words of advice for your old captain? Wait, don't tell me. I'm being impulsive. I haven't considered all the consequences. It's too risky. Thanks for the input, but I've got to do what I think is right,” she said, her determined voice breaking the silence blanketing the hill on which she stood. She’d brought him home, to her home, her family farm. Under a simple ceremony, just the crew, his sister and her family, they’d laid him to rest under the tree she’d watched grow from her childhood bedroom window. Even though she didn’t live there, it had felt appropriate. A part of him forever with a part of her.
Letting her hands move to the side of his gravestone, she brushed the leaves off the simple epitaph.
Chakotay
2329 - 2394
A name, and two dates. That was all that was left of this man. Her gentle Chakotay. It was a shame to see, and yet so fitting in its quiet earnestness that her heart broke all over again. She thought back to their last night together. I’ve missed you, he’d said. He’d missed her. Her! Not Seven. Not the Captain. Kathryn, her. In all that time, it had always been her!
Smiling slightly, she ran her thumb across the edge of his marker. “I know it wasn't easy living all these years without her, Chakotay. But when I'm through, things might be better for all of us. Trust me.”
And she hoped beyond hope that she wouldn’t be too late. Perhaps she’d no longer have to live with the ghost of what they could have been.
The End.