Chapter Text
Kathryn Janeway entered the holodeck and immediately smiled, taking a deep breath. It wasn’t quite like the real Lake George, but it was a good likeness that beat her previous attempts at holodeck recreations of the place. Seeing the old Janeway house on the hill overlooking the lake nearly brought tears to her eyes as she tread down the dirt path that led to the house. As she passed the large boulder near the garage they had called Big Rock, she could envision herself and her sister as children, climbing up to the top of it for a picnic lunch with their grandparents. She passed the giant rock and approached the back deck, envisioning running down this very same path as a child, her parents trailing behind her with the luggage as they first arrived for their annual summer visit. As she had done then, she bypassed the house, walking past the sauna, down the hill and through the trees. She was tempted to kick off her sandals and walk barefoot through the grass as she had done as a child. She passed the boathouse and the firepit and walked all the way down to the beach. She bent down to touch the lake. She knew it was holographic water, but still, it almost made her feel as though she was home.
As she stood up and looked out at the lake before her, she felt a sob rise in her throat, tears prickling the backs of her eyes at the bittersweet memories. She pushed the emotions away, not knowing when Chakotay would arrive, and took another deep breath, trying to force away the memories of the past twenty-four hours.
Don’t you die on me. Come on, breathe. Kathryn, listen to me. Chakotay’s words echoed in her mind with a haunting persistence. No, Kathryn! You can’t die. She could still see his tear-stained face as he leaned over and gathered her body against his, his desperation as he clasped her hand between both of his and held it to his chest, his urgency as he pressed his lips against hers to breathe air into her lungs and pushed his hands against her chest frantically. She could still feel the ache in the center of her chest where he had broken her sternum and one of her ribs with the compressions. The Doctor had healed the bones hours earlier, but the residual pain still lingered.
But it was not the physical injuries that stuck with her hours later. It was the fear she had seen in Chakotay’s eyes when he thought he might lose her forever. It was the sinking she felt in her gut when she could not get through to him to tell him that she was still alive. It was the wrenching heartbreak she felt as she watched him process the news of her death silently in sickbay, and then turn on his heel and walk out without saying a word. She realized now that that hadn’t been real. They hadn’t beamed her to sickbay. Tuvok and the Doctor had come down to the planet in a shuttle and treated her there, not giving up until she’d beat the alien presence into submission. Still, she wasn’t sure where her memories ended and the alien-induced hallucinations began.
In front of her, the holographic sun was already beginning to dip beneath the trees on the opposite horizon, the orb a pinkish orange as it sank amidst a sea of lavender and pink clouds. Behind her, she heard the holodeck doors swish open.
“Kathryn?”
“Down here,” she beckoned him, his presence momentarily banishing the ghosts of that day’s memories. She turned to see him rounding the bend of the house, walking down the grassy hill to where she stood at the edge of the dock. He was carrying the bottle of champagne he’d offered to bring after she’d issued her invitation.
He looked from her to the lake and the shore beyond. “It’s beautiful here,” he said, “just as you described it.” The sun was almost invisible now, but its light was still casting a pink glow on the clouds that in turn made the water itself almost appear rose colored.
He handed her the champagne and she took it, their fingers brushing over the top of the bottle. “Thank you,” she said, taking it from him. “We should put it on ice. Come on.” She walked out onto the dock where the family sailboat was already tied up and easily stepped over the gap between the boat and the dock, bottle in hand. She saw Chakotay glance down at the gap before stepping over. “Need a hand?” she teased him.
“I think I can manage,” he replied drily, stepping onto the boat’s deck.
She had a bucket with ice ready for the champagne already sitting on the deck next to two glasses. She had added it to the program before entering the holodeck, and she placed the bottle into the ice. “Ready to set sail, mate?” she asked.
Chakotay chuckled and nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be. But you’ll have to give me some instructions. I’ve never been sailing before.”
“Giving orders?” she replied, matching his laugh. “That’s something I know how to do.”
She showed him first how to untie the sailor’s knots that held the boat to the dock and then instructed him in unfurling the sail. She felt his eyes on her, watching her with admiration as she easily maneuvered around the boat, and soon, they were in open water, sailing in the midst of Lake George. Once they’d found a comfortable pace, she trimmed the sails and released the sheets to slow the boat to a comfortable and relaxed pace.
Chakotay opened the bottle of champagne and poured it into two glasses. He met her at the boat’s railing, where she was standing, looking out at the darkening sky where the stars were just beginning to appear. He handed her one glass and clinked his against hers. “To life,” he said softly.
She looked into his dark eyes as they clinked glasses and nodded before taking a sip. The champagne was light and bubbly and not too sweet. “This is good,” she said to him, surprised.
“It’s not synthehol.”
“Where did you get it?”
He grinned. “You don’t have all my Maquis secrets yet, Kathryn.”
“Hmm. I’ll just have to keep digging then.”
They chuckled at the lighthearted teasing and then lapsed into silence. The last remaining glow of the sun slowly disappeared into the horizon, replaced gradually by the night sky. The only sounds that could be heard were the gentle splashing of the waves against the boat and an occasional distant bird calling out into the evening air. Chakotay took in a deep breath, taking it all in. “I can see why you love it here,” he said. “It’s very peaceful.”
She had told him about her family’s property at Lake George in the midst of one of their late night conversations on New Earth during a moment she thought she’d never see the place again. She still might not, she supposed, but the holodeck recreation was a good facsimile. “Even when I would have rather been studying quantum mechanics, I enjoyed coming here,” she admitted. “There was always lots to do—sailing, swimming, water skiing, canoeing, fishing with my grandfather.”
“And you always had the house to retreat to if you wanted to study,” Chakotay supplied.
“Yes,” she agreed with a grin. “Much better than a camping trip.”
They grew quiet again as more stars appeared overhead. Kathryn put down her glass for a moment to adjust the sails. Chakotay refilled both glasses and handed hers to her when she returned. She propped her elbows against the railing of the boat and looked out at the darkening water. Chakotay was quiet, and she sensed that he was waiting for her to speak. It was a talent of his that she’d observed during their stay on New Earth, his willingness to wait until she was ready to say something, staying quiet, ready to truly listen when she spoke, not anxious or expecting some particular answer, just waiting for whatever she wanted to share. She tried to sort through all the jumbled emotions and conflicting thoughts that were running through her mind. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I’m trying to put that alien and his matrix out of my mind.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. You’ve been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours. I know that if an alien impersonated my father, I wouldn’t be able to put it aside so easily.”
She sipped her champagne and tried to find words for her feelings. “I think more than anything, I feel angry.”
“At the alien?”
“Yes.”
“Because of what he did to you? The anguish he put you through?”
“No. Not exactly.” She paused; he waited. “He took my father’s form, his body, his voice, even his mannerisms and inflections. I guess he took them from my memories, but still, it felt like a violation of some kind.”
Chakotay nodded. “He desecrated your father’s memory.”
She looked up at him, surprised he had understood exactly what she was trying to express. “Yes, that’s it.”
“What that alien did to you and to your father’s memory is unforgiveable,” Chakotay said, his own tone laced with anger. “But at the end of the day, he can’t destroy the real memories you have of your father, and what he did doesn’t in any way change the type of man your father was.”
“You’re right.” She shuddered at the memories of the alien trying to lure her into his matrix. “But it’s going to take me a while to process what I saw and move on from it.”
“What did you see?” he asked. “On the planet, I mean. I know you said you saw me. You saw us on the planet, back on the ship…” He trailed off, suddenly seeming uncertain.
She shook her head. “To be honest, I don’t know what was real and what was a hallucination. I saw my body in sickbay, the Doctor pronouncing me dead. I saw my own funeral, but I know that wasn’t real.”
Tight-lipped, he shook his head.
“I saw you, on the planet, leaning over my body, administering CPR.” She touched her upper rib where it was still tender. “I know that was real.”
“I’m sorry.” His hand reached towards the tender spot but stopped short of touching it.
“Don’t be. The Doctor said you probably saved my life.” She reached across the gap between them and took both of his hands in hers. “I saw you telling me to hold on, not to die.” She squeezed his hands. “You hailed the ship and told them I had died. You were crying, promising you would bring me back.”
He squeezed her hands back. “That was real.” He released one of her hands and brought his palm up to caress her cheek. “I was terrified, Kathryn. I thought we had lost you forever. I thought I had lost you forever.”
She covered his hand with her own, leaning her cheek into his palm. “But you didn’t.”
“No.” He leaned forward, pressing a gentle and chaste kiss against her forehead before dropping his hand from her cheek and letting go of her other hand to turn back to the railing and pick up his champagne.
“But?” she prompted, hearing his unfinished sentence.
He took another deep breath, a sigh, and seemed to weigh his next words carefully. Finally he turned towards her to look her in the eyes as he spoke. “But it made me wonder if we shouldn’t reconsider our parameters.”
Now it was her turn to turn away, towards the railing. She looked up into the starry sky. He had used her word on purpose, she knew, even though they had never officially defined any parameters for their relationship upon their return from New Earth. Her use of the word on that now faraway planet coupled with her own distant behavior upon their return had set the boundaries for their relationship without needing further discussion, boundaries that Chakotay had never broached or questioned until now.
“It’s all right,” he said suddenly, his voice sounding tired as he put his glass down on the small table behind them. “Just forget I said anything about that. You’ve already been through enough.” He paused and looked down at her, his eyes glistening in the moonlight. “Being here with you like this, sharing this,” he said, gesturing to the lake and the starry sky, “is already perfect. I just… wouldn’t want you to die without knowing what you mean to me.”
She did not know how to answer him and remained turned outwards, towards the water. Watching him struggle with her death on the planet had brought her emotions to the surface, too, had made her want to reach him, hold him, reassure him that it would be all right. But that in itself scared her. She could not afford a moment of distraction from her mission to get Voyager home. Every day was a life and death situation, as this day had proven, if not for her, then for someone else.
He turned away from her to avoid showing her his emotions. He took a step towards the other side of the boat’s deck, and she stopped him with a hand on his arm. He whirled around to look at her, surprise visible on his features. “I do know, Chakotay,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, “and I care about you, too, more than I can say.” Her near death experience had also reminded her that life was precious and that perhaps there were some things that shouldn’t be left unsaid, but her better judgment still told her that reserving her words was wise. “There’s a part of me that wants desperately to explore those feelings that I think we both share, but my rational judgment and my command training both tell me it’s not wise right now, not here, not under our circumstances.” Her hand slid down his arm to intertwine once again with his fingers.
He squeezed her hand then released it with a small smile. “I understand.” He picked up his champagne glass again and extended it towards her. “Then let’s just celebrate the fact that we’re alive and we’re here right now together.”
He was letting her off the hook, she realized, and she both hated and loved him for it. She picked up her glass and clinked it towards his. “That sounds like something worth celebrating.”