Peeping Tom, Shroy Tuvok ~ part iii
 
 
 
Part IV ~ Chakotay

I look down at the icy planet below us.  We've been in orbit for over two hours, and she still hasn't said a single word.  Any commands that she hasn't been able to relay with motions, she has given to me via padd.  Not a good sign.

"Kathryn," I hesitate:  "this is ludicrous.  You haven't said a word since we left Voyager."

She picks up one of her padds and types something into it.  Then she hands it to me and turns her back on me, going back to her work.  I read the padd:

*I'm mad.*

"Well I can see that..."  She hands me another padd:

*And I'm not talking to you.*

"Kathryn..."  She's already shoving another padd into my hands:

*Because you started it.*

I look at the three padds that I'm holding, then back to Kathryn.  She's looking for something...  I smile:

"Looking for these?"  She turns to me in a huff.  If looks could kill...

"Give those back!"

"Oh, Voyager's mighty captain can still talk!"  I hold the padds out of her reach as she lunges for them:

"I'm warning you, Commander!"

Suddenly, the shuttle is pitching over sideways, dumping Kathryn into my lap.  The computer automatically takes us to red alert, and Kathryn leaps from my arms.  I'm not sure if it's the fact that I was holding her or the current situation that propels her the most.

"Impulse engines are off line!" I report.  "We're falling out of orbit."  Systems were beginning to go offline:  fast.

"We're caught in the planet's gravitational pull," she works frantically at her console.  "There's a storm that's interfering with the shuttle's functions:  switching to auxilliary power."

"Impulse power is coming back on line," I shout.

"Do we have enough power to break free?" she looks to me.  I shake my head:

"It's not enough."  I look back to Kathryn:  "We're going down."
 
 
 

She moans, but it doesn't seem to matter to me at this moment:  she's alive.  I move to get the medkit, calmly opening the tricorder:

"How bad is it?" she's obviously in pain.

"You have a couple of cracked ribs and a dislocated shoulder."  I close the tricorder:  "We're both lucky:  no head or spinal injuries."  She's cradeling her injured shoulder:

"Well excuse me if I don't share your enthusiasm, Commander, but I feel far from lucky."  I stand, picking up the medkit:

"Come on."  She follows me farther back into the cockpit.  I sit down on the deck...

"We've crashed on a barren snow planet," she sits down next to me as I open the medkit:  "we don't know if we got the distress call out, and I'm the one who ends up getting injured...  What are you doing?"

"You have to lay down if I'm going to fix your arm."  She stares at me for a moment, the complies.

"You look awfully smug..."

"I'm not smug," I reply.  "Bite down on this," I hold out a hypospray--something the maquis have been using for years in situations like this--but she refuses.  Stubborn, as always.

I sigh, then lean over her and pop her shoulder back in place.  Her cry of pain is worse than I expected.  She tries to pull out of my grasp, but I already have her pinned to the deck--no use in her hurting herself further--and then my eyes meet hers...

Blue eyes that are icy cold, full of anger, but suddenly they change.  A tear rolls down her cheek and she turns her face away, cursing herself inside for the tears that are streaming down her cheeks.  She tries to stop them, in vain.

I relax my grip and move my knee off her stomach.  Then she starts to breathe again; deep, raspy breaths, recovering from having the air knocked out of her.  Then her mouth opens and the three words come out... three words that aren't spoken as a statement, or a request, or a plea, but as one thing alone... as a Captain warning a subordinate:

"You're hurting me."  I pull back:

"You're hurting yourself," the words are laced with anger:  anger that I didn't know that I had within me:  "You just can't let yourself be weak for one moment, can you?"  I retort as I grab the regenerator out of the medkit:  "No, of course not:  you have to be wonder woman.  Get the crew home, Kathryn.  Be invincible, Kathryn.  Shut out everyone who cares about you, Kathryn."

I'm holding her down again, not stopping to think about the words that are tumbling out of my mouth.  Words that are foreign to me; words that I've held within for years, but didn't know were there.  Words that need to be said, but if I were in my right mind would never dream of saying.

Once her shoulder has been healed, I grab for the osteogenic stimulator:  "You know what's wrong with you?  Your problem is that you don't know a good thing even when it's staring you in the face.  You're too concerned with protocol, and rules, and regulations, that you don't even feel anymore.  You're such an automaton that you might as well be a hologram:  or, or an android!" I sputter.

I press on, not thinking anymore, just reacting:  "You hide inside that body of yours and try to make us think that you're invulnerable to it all, that you don't have any emotion, that you don't need any help.  You display less emotion than the Doctor, or Seven, or even Tuvok!  You're not even a woman anymore... and I'm ashamed to call you my captain."

I say this all in the few moments that it takes for me to heal her ribs, and then she immedietely twists from my grasp.  She turns away from me, rolling herself into a fetal position, her body racked with sobs.  "It doesn't have to be this way, Kathryn."  She doesn't answer, so I gently lay my hand on her shoulder.  She pulls away, not allowing me to comfort her.

"I'm still not speaking to you," she gasps between sobs.  I turn away, and she stumbles to her feet, limping to the other side of the shuttle, trying to get as much distance between herself and me as possible.  I stand, taking a step closer to her, but she only pulls back further:  "Stay away from me," she hisses.

I take a step backwards, and suddenly I'm dizzy and feel very sick.  I try to sit down in the chair behind me, but collapse into a heap on the floor instead.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.  I start to cough:  "I'm sorry," I try to force out again, but I'm coughing too hard.  I cough so hard that my throat is raw and then I stop and start to feel sick again.  I wish that I would just puke and get it over with, I feel so sick.  But nothing comes, so I just lie there on the deck, staring at the ceiling and wondering why I said anything at all.
 
 
 

I climb to my feet, every bone in my body screaming.  I ignore the hollow feeling in my chest and cross the width of this small ship to open a storage locker.  I feel like cursing when I discover that someone has removed the Sub-Zero TempResist Blankets.  All we have left are the thin standard issue ones.

I throw back my head, about to let out a string of expletives, every atom in my being wanting to scream out, to do something to relieve the dull, heavy ache in my chest.  But the words catch in my throat, and I turn away, laughing cynically.  This just isn't my day. I take one of the blankets and drop it onto the deck beside Kathryn.  She tries to pull away from me, so I know that she isn't asleep.

"We only have the two blankets," I announce.  She doesn't answer, so I guess that she's still mad at me.  I don't blame her.

I leave the blanket, walk back to the locker to retrieve one for myself.  I look back:  they're both still lying on the deck, folded and untouched.  I shake my head and wrap my blanket around me, sitting down at the console to begin working on restoring communications in the fading light.

It's going to be cold tonight:  the shuttle is slowly being burried in snow.  Soon we'll be covered completely, blocking out all the light.  I think that I can repair the communications array, but impulse is another story.  I have a feeling that this shuttle is never going to fly again.
 
 
 

I turn to look at Kathryn.  She rolled up in a ball over there.  Still hasn't touched the blanket.  I shake my head:

"You should use that blanket, Captain."  I hear a sniffle:

"I do not have to take orders from you, Commander..."  She emphasizes each syllable.  "Mind your own business."  She rolls over so she's facing the hatch.

I sigh and get up to grab a beacon.  It's almost dark.
 
 
 

I've been struggling to stay awake for what seems like hours.  I have no way to know.  Main power went offline when I tried to activate the distress call, and I've been trying to remain conscious ever since.

I wonder what woke me up.  If I had fallen asleep I might have died before help arrived.  The only way to know for sure that I'm all right now is to stay awake and try to keep as warm as possible.  Which isn't very easy when the person you're stranded with won't let you touch them so you can conserve body heat together. At least I have the blanket.

"Chakotay."  Kathryn's voice...  She sounds weak.  I wonder if she called my name before and that is why I awoke.

Before I can think, I jump from my seat and stumble toward her in the darkness.  Boy, is it cold...  Brrr...  I hop up and down a couple of times and then drop to my knees, feeling for her in the darkness.  I don't want to step on her.

"What is it, Kathryn?" I ask.  Hearing her voice again would help me find her.

"Cold," I can hear her chatter.  "So cold."

I finally find her ankle, wrapped in the blanket.  I guess she can follow orders after all.  I pull her up into a sitting position and rub my arms up and down hers, trying to generate heat.  "I was worried about you," she whispers as I move closer to her and pull her into my arms.

"Shh..." I try to get her to stop talking, but she wasn't deterred:

"I could hear you snoring...  thought I might lose you."

"I don't snore."

"Yes:  you do."  I could hear her smile, but then her voice lost all humor:  "I remember on New Earth:  lying awake at night, listening to the gentle rasp of your breathing, always there to lull me to sleep.  I couldn't sleep for weeks after Voyager came for us, I missed it so much."  She paused:  "Your presence made me feel safe."

"Shh, you shouldn't talk."

"No, Chakotay you were right:  you were right about all of it.  About the blanket, about me not knowing when to stop.  About me not feeling anymore, not being a woman," her voice caught in her throat.  I shook my head:

"I didn't know what I was saying."  I could feel her breath on my cheek as she tilted her head up as if to look at me:

"You knew exactly what you were saying.  You never wanted to tell me, but you knew... You know me better than anyone else."

"Kathryn, why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's my last chance," her voice sounded labored and far away.

"What do you mean?" I asked, dreading the answer that, deep down, I knew she was about to give.  But no answer came.  "Kathryn?"  I repeated.  There was no reply.  I could feel her head lower heavily onto my shoulder as I shook her, screaming inside for her to wake up.  "Kathryn!" my voice finally pulled her back to me, to the world around us.  "You have to stay awake," I pulled her closer to my chest.

"Chakotay..."

"Kathryn, you need to stay awake until Voyager beams us to sickbay."  She shook her head, as if to say:  No, Voyager isn't coming.  But I wouldn't let her give up like that.  "You hear me?  You have to stay awake!"  I could feel her drifting away, slowly leaving me.

A million thoughts rushed through my mind at that moment.  The very first time I ever saw her.  Each agonizing, heart-wrenching mission where I wondered if I would ever get her back.  Her voice when someone had the audacity to threaten her.  Her excitement while she marched across numerous alien vistas, savoring every footstep of her journey on each of too many unamed planets that were already thousands of lightyears away.  The starlight reflecting the red-blonde highlights in her hair during a late meeting in her ready room, each distant sun reflecting in her blue eyes.

The smell of coffee on her laugh.  Our trips to the holodeck.  The way she would get lost in the music while we were eating dinner in her quarters, and would close her eyes oblivious to my gaze.  The smell of her hair and the feel of her skin beneath my fingers.  Every gentle touch that would light up my day.  Every heartbeat that had skipped when she gave me that half-smile.

"Chakotay..."

It was as if I was the one dying instead of her.

"...I love you."

And that was it.  She simply exhaled her dying confession and breathed no more.  I love you.  That's what she had said.  I love you.

I never told her.
 
 
 
Peeping Tom, Shroy Tuvok ~ part v
more of Star in Void's Star Trek Voyager fanfic