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Chakotay was always able to tell when Kathryn Janeway had a headache. The way she would subtly press her fingertips into her temples or at the bridge of her nose may escape the notice of the crew, but not him. He was proud to note that their frequency and intensity had seemed less since she had started allowing Chakotay to massage her neck on a regular basis. However, this latest one seemed to be making up for lost time. She described it as constant hot needles piercing her skull, and no amount of neck massages or coffee seemed to help.
When the duration hit twenty-four hours, Chakotay tried to convince her to see the Doctor, but Kathryn stubbornly said that she had too much work to do. And besides, she was “fine.” He eyed her warily but knew that this was not a battle he would win. So he brought her a fresh coffee and a sandwich from the mess hall and left her to the quiet of her dimly lit ready room.
She had hardly slept a wink the night before - a fact that Chakotay knew first hand since he now shared her bed most nights. She had drifted to sleep on the couch as he worked on her taut neck and then he had carried her to bed. He tried not to wake her as he removed her boots and pants and tucked her under the covers. But his efforts were ultimately in vain because when he slipped into bed next to her, she groaned and turned to bury her head into his chest at an awkward angle - as if the pressure might relieve some of the pain.
Somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, she apologized for being no fun. He responded by rubbing her back and gently kissing the crown of her head and reminding her that this was exactly why they had taken their relationship out of the holodeck. Because a real relationship wasn’t about the fun parts but about all the other parts in between that make up a life. He couldn’t tell if the wetness on his chest were tears of love or tears of pain, but he suspected they were both. He held her all night long, sometimes drifting to sleep only to be awakened by her tossing and turning or by soft moans and mewls of pain. He doubted that he had slept more than a couple of hours all together, and he was sure that she had slept even less. Fortunately (or not), both were accustomed to running Voyager on minimal sleep, so that first day was manageable.
The second night with crippling headaches began very much the same way. Exhausted, they went to bed early where Chakotay again tried to comfort Kathryn as she tossed and turned, keeping them both awake. Around 0200, she finally sent him back to his quarters, reasoning that at least one of them should be well rested enough to command the ship in the morning. Chakotay protested weakly and begged her to go see the Doctor. He eventually relented and retreated to his own quarters, knowing that she had a point. Though he doubted that he would get much sleep there either, knowing that she was in such pain just on the other side of the bulkhead.
***
The next morning, Chakotay was relieved (and also a little concerned) to arrive on the bridge and find the captain’s chair empty. Tuvok reported that she had called in sick for the morning and Chakotay resisted the urge to go and check on her, praying silently that she was with the Doctor or sleeping and not simply alone in her room writhing in pain.
When the ship reached the source of some strange energy readings, he reluctantly summoned her to the bridge, thinking that she surely wouldn’t want to miss such an unusual discovery. Spatial phenomena were her specialty, after all. He thought back to when they first met - all those years ago - and how her eyes shone with excitement as she described the topic of the thesis she was working on. If he was hoping for a repeat appearance of that Kathryn though, he was bound to be disappointed. Despite having spent the morning with the Doctor, the captain emerged from the turbolift with eyes flat and lifeless from pain and lack of sleep. She put on a brave face for the rest of the bridge crew, her posture straight and her head held high. But Chakotay noticed how she winced when she glanced at the two pulsing stars on the view screen and how her hand drifted unconsciously toward the bridge of her nose as if drawn there by a magnet. He noticed how she couldn’t seem to focus on the binary pulsars long enough to be intrigued or impressed.
Chakotay watched with concern as she turned the project over to him with an impersonal squeeze on his shoulder and then retreated to her ready room. He stood for a moment, alone in the center of the bridge, contemplating his next step. His brain felt foggy and slow, probably from a combination of his own lack of sleep and concern for Kathryn. Finally, he turned and ordered Tom to hold position and Harry to continue gathering data from the pulsars while he consulted with the Captain. He left the bridge to Tuvok and rang for entrance into the ready room.
Upon entering the room, he found Kathryn sitting on the couch on the upper level, cradling a cup of coffee and staring - quite literally - into space. Chakotay approached quietly and lowered himself onto the sofa behind her. His knees creaked loudly and he was sure she must have heard it too but if so she didn’t show it. She leaned back into him and he wrapped one arm around her waist, his other hand expertly loosening her barrette so that he could gently run his fingers through her hair.
“How’d it go with the Doctor this morning?” he asked softly.
“The experience was only mildly excruciating,” she groaned. “He insisted on some sort of osteopathic massage, told me to take some time off, and refused to give me a hypospray.”
“You asked for one?” Chakotay was mildly shocked since she had been rejecting that idea for days.
“My objection was never to the hypospray,” she shrugged, “only to having to go to the Doctor to get it.”
He sighed sympathetically and softly kissed the side of her head. “Next time, why don’t you just ask Tom?”
A sharp guffaw erupted from Kathryn, surprising them both. “You know, I forgot he was working there now,” she explained with a minute shake of her head. “Besides, I’m avoiding Mr. Paris for a completely different reason at the moment.”
Chakotay stopped stroking her hair and leaned around to look at her curiously. “Oh?” he encouraged her to explain but when she didn’t, he teased, “he didn’t kidnap you and force you to mate with him again did he?”
Kathryn elbowed him sharply in the chest and attempted to throw him a death glare but the intensity of the gesture seemed to only bring more pain to her head. Instead, she settled back again into the comforting circle of his arms and explained how she had been receiving reports from all over the ship that Tom and B’Elanna had been spotted making out in corridors and turbo lifts and Jeffries tubes.
“I suppose I’ll have to speak with them about exercising a bit more discretion,” she sighed.
“You’re not going to tell them they have to stop seeing each other?” Chakotay asked, surprised.
“It would be a bit hypocritical of me, wouldn’t it?” Kathryn admitted, squeezing his hand for emphasis. “Besides, they are of equal rank and not in each other’s direct line of command. So as long as they keep their relationship off duty, there’s no problem.”
Kathryn sighed again and wrenched herself upright. “Speaking of… aren’t we both supposed to be on duty right now?” She kissed his cheek and then stood, making her way to the desk.
Chakotay stood too, but not without a bit of a struggle. He leaned forward and back a couple of times to build momentum and when he finally made it off the couch, his knees protested again.
“Must be getting old,” he joked, shrugging off the discomfort.
Kathryn shook her head sadly, wincing slightly from the effort. “Or you’re just exhausted from looking after me day and night. And running the ship with little help from its captain.”
Chakotay started as though he might move to comfort her again, but Kathryn held up a hand to stop his approach. “I’ll see you in the briefing room in… one hour?” Chakotay nodded. “And then, Commander, you are taking the afternoon off.”
He knew better than to suggest she follow her own advice. Besides, she had already taken part of the morning off which he counted as a win. So he nodded sharply and returned to the bridge.
***
Chakotay could see that Kathryn was tired and sick and all she wanted was to fall into his arms… all he wanted was to hold her and comfort her and make everything better. But she would never allow it. Not in the briefing room, nor out on the bridge, or in the turbolift. She was the Captain. He was her First Officer. There were Rules.
So it wasn’t really a surprise that, after the briefing, she reprimanded Tom and B’Elanna - so harshly that he could hear it through the door - for flagrantly breaking those exact rules. The two lieutenants exited the briefing room looking rather sheepish, although Chakotay did think he heard B’Elanna mutter something about the captain needing to get laid. He shook his head ruefully. If only it were that simple , he thought as he waited for the turbolift.
Chakotay knew that he was supposed to be resting, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave Kathryn with so much work to do when she was even more exhausted than he was. As a compromise, he decided to review the newest department reports from the comfort of his couch. He opened up B’Elanna’s engineering report, knowing that her report style would be more likely to keep him awake than Tuvok’s or the Doctor’s. Even so, he struggled to focus. He squinted at the text, trying to decipher the first sentence. He rubbed at his eyes but the words on the screen remained blurry. With a sigh, he tossed the report onto the couch and ordered a black coffee from the replicator. He didn't usually go for such a concentrated dose of caffeine but desperate times called for desperate measures. He lifted the steaming mug from the replicator and was surprised to find it quite heavy. Before he could set it down to readjust his grip, Chakotay’s hands began to shake and the hot coffee spilled over the sides of the mug, scalding his skin.
Shit, he thought, reflexively dropping the mug and rushing to the refresher to run cold water over his injured hands. Once the pain had subsided somewhat, he splashed the cold water on his face to try and jump start his brain, but then he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Kathryn was right: he looked exhausted. He ran his still shaking hands through his hair, only to watch the hair fall out at his touch, as cleanly as if his fingers were razor blades.
What in the hell… Chakotay wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or if his hair really was suddenly falling out in clumps, but either way, he knew there was only one thing to do. Still staring incredulously at the balding man in the mirror, Chakotay called for an emergency transport to sickbay.
***
Sickbay was filling up quickly when the Doctor finally relented and gave Kathryn a hypospray and she began to feel better - marginally. But it was easier to ignore the pain and the exhaustion when there were so many other people with more urgent concerns to take care of. Especially when one of those was Chakotay.
Chakotay was released from sickbay, due to overcrowding and when he returned to his quarters, Kathryn was already there waiting for him.
“You always take such good care of me. Now let me take care of you ,” she said, cupping his wrinkled face in her hands. She kissed him softly and slid her hands over his shoulders and down his arms until she could take his hands in hers. “Couch? Or bed?”
Chakotay raised an eyebrow, as if trying to decipher the meaning of her question. Neither of them were exactly in great health at the moment… but then again he was old, not dead.
Kathryn smirked at him and pulled him gently towards the couch. “I only meant to rest. Good to know your brain is still that of a teenage boy though.”
She led him to the couch and helped him to stretch his stiff, aged body out along the full length of the couch. She propped his head up on a few soft pillows and covered his legs with a woven tribal blanket before she finally perched on the edge of the couch beside him. She gently stroked his head, surprised to find how odd this gesture felt when there was no hair for her to run her fingers through. Instead, she focused on tracing the lines of his tattoo.
“I never realized it went so far back,” she commented, following the lines to their ending point behind his ear.
“I had to shave my head in order for them to do it,” he shared. “Thank goodness my hair grows quickly because I really do not have the head shape to pull off being bald.” It was said as a joke, but then he remembered he may have to live with being a bald man for the rest of his life. “Maybe I should start wearing hats…” he mumbled.
Kathryn watched as emotions flitted across his face in rapid succession. He was usually the more positive of the two of them but it seemed that now she would have to be the one to bolster his mood. She brought her hand to his cheek and gently guided his eyes to meet hers as she promised, swore , that she would get to the bottom of all of this and he would be back to his old-young self in no time. Her tired eyes were steely with determination even though her stomach was twisted in knots. What if…. but no, this was not the time for doubts. The man she loved was shriveling away before her eyes, not to mention the myriad strange illnesses plaguing the rest of the crew.
Kathryn stood abruptly and smoothed the front of her uniform. “I’ll make you some tea and then I have to get back…”
She was gone only a moment but when she returned to the couch, she found Chakotay with his eyes closed and his chest steadily rising and falling in slumber. She placed the tea cup on the coffee table, pulling it closer to be sure it was within his reach when he woke. One more tender kiss on his hairless head and a final whispered promise to save him, and Captain Janeway exited her first officer’s quarters and brusquely made her way back to the bridge.
***
Twelve hours later, Kathryn leaned back in her desk chair and rubbed a hand across her forehead. The persistent, alien-induced headache was gone, but a regular old stress headache had appeared in its place. Even so, she felt a strong sense of relief now that Voyager had beaten its latest obstacle. She glanced down at the piece of old-fashioned stationary that lay on her desk, filled with words she couldn’t possibly say out loud. The ink wasn’t quite dry yet, so she stood to retrieve a fresh cup of coffee from the seating area. She settled onto the couch and inhaled the bitter, comforting scent as she allowed her mind to wander back to the events of the previous few days.
Tuvok had called her reckless. And maybe she was. Driving a starship straight at two pulsating stars would certainly be considered reckless, crazy, or stupid. Of the three options, reckless was definitely preferred.
The murder of Ensign Luke right before her eyes had brought the situation into sharp focus. Until then, all of these strange ailments plaguing the crew were more of a puzzle than a true threat; the possibility of death only looming in the hazy edges of her consciousness. Now, she saw these aliens for what they were: not simply nuisances but murderers.
As she took the helm, visions of Chakotay flashed through Kathryn’s mind. Hopes and dreams that she hadn’t dared name until now spurred her on as she flew the ship straight between the two pulsars. Reckless? Yes. But to save him, to save their future together, to save the rest of the crew, not to mention to stop her head’s constant throbbing, she could see no other choice.
A chime at the door cut short her reverie and she jumped to her feet to conceal the letter before calling for the person outside to enter. The Doctor strode in, looking quite proud of himself, and reported that all alien devices and genetic tags have been removed. The crew should all be back to normal, or at least well on their way.
“Wonderful news, Doctor. Thank you as always for your tireless work. I don’t know what we would have done without you,” Kathryn gushed as she patted him on the shoulder and led him towards the exit. She generally tried not to feed his already inflated ego, but had to admit that this time, he probably deserved it. Besides that, his report was her last piece of business for the day and she was eager to retire to her quarters, now that she might finally be able to get some sleep.
“All in a day’s work, Captain!” the Doctor called to her as the doors slid shut between them.
Kathryn retrieved the now-dry letter from her desk drawer and carefully folded it and placed it into an envelope, before sealing it with wax. She gathered up a couple of padds and, with the envelope sandwiched between for safekeeping, she crossed the bridge to the turbolift, nodding greetings to beta shift as she passed them.
The ride on the turbolift felt interminably long when all she wanted was to crawl into bed and stay there for about twelve days. But there was one more stop she had to make first. Chakotay’s door slid open when she approached, tuned as it was to her biosignature.
With a gleaming, dimple-laden smile, Chakotay rose from the table and lifted Kathryn into the air, spinning her around once and then kissing her soundly. She responded with equal passion as she delightedly ran her fingers through his thick hair. When they finally came up for air, he returned her feet to the ground and they stood, arms wrapped tightly around each other, simply enjoying the normalcy of the moment.
“I missed being able to do that,” Chakotay said reverently with his nose buried in her hair.
“As much as you missed your hair?” she teased, taking another opportunity to run her fingers through the short tendrils at the nape of his neck.
“Hmmmm…” he pretended to weigh the options, causing her to giggle and playfully slap his arm.
“I’m not staying,” she warned him. “I’m going to go and sleep for a week, but I wanted to give you this first.” She handed him the envelope and took several steps toward the door before turning and meeting his eyes once more. “I don’t want to talk about it. There are just a few things I had to get down on paper before I lost my nerve,” she explained, blushing. She blew him one last kiss and then retreated to her own quarters, leaving him alone with the letter.
Chakotay settled into the couch and carefully lifted the wax seal. He smiled to himself when he saw her sprawling script covering the page and wondered, not for the first time, if starship captains and doctors attended the same handwriting lessons. As he read the letter, one sweet tear rolled down his cheek, then another. When he had finished, he clutched the paper to his heart, too overwhelmed with emotion to fully comprehend its contents. He read the letter a second time, and then a third, committing it to memory. Then he carefully refolded it and placed it back in the envelope. He wrapped it in his medicine bundle where it would stay until the day they made it to the Alpha Quadrant and would be allowed to discuss its contents openly.
***
My dearest love,
Of the many horrors we have faced so far on our journey, the idea of not growing old with you may have been the worst one yet. I don’t think I realized until now just how much I’ve been dreaming of our future - the life we can have together someday, when we make it home.
Today, I saw that future fading away and the pain nearly eclipsed that damn headache.
We cannot have these things, not yet, but I want you to know just what is now inspiring my relentless push towards the Alpha Quadrant.
I want - no, need - you to know that I want these things. Even if I can never say them out loud.
They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you are about to die. But when I flew Voyager at those pulsars, it was not my life that I saw.
It was ours :
Walking, hand in hand across the field of my family’s farm in Indiana
Watching you run around a snowy yard with a raven-haired, dimpled child with blue eyes squealing with laughter from your shoulders
Lying on the couch with my head in your lap as you read aloud and I can feel our child within me, responding to the sound of your voice
Sitting together on a porch swing looking at the stars, matching streaks of gray in our hair as we grow old together
My wrinkled hand in yours until the end of time…
I know it isn’t much. But I hope these images can sustain us both until we are able to make them a reality.
All my love, forever,
K