Kathryn’s Ark
By Ralkana

Disclaimer – I don’t own them; Paramount does. If I owned them, I think they’d have been much, much happier.

Comments and feedback to Ralkana47@yahoo.com would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!

Takes place immediately after Drive.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Captain Janeway sat at her customary table in the corner of the mess hall, observing her crew and nursing a cup of coffee. Insomnia had struck again, and she had been there for hours, since before even Neelix’ arrival. She usually enjoyed her early-morning opportunities to people-watch, as Tom called it; they gave her a chance to assess happiness and morale on her ship. Today, it was just compounding her headache, but she couldn’t seem to stop watching.

Couples. Everywhere were couples. When had her crew decided this was Noah’s Ark? They were pairing up like magnets. In one corner she saw Kim and one of the Delaneys—she couldn’t tell which from this distance—sharing a table with Ayala and a pretty Sciences crewman. At the table directly opposite her sat two crewmembers so obviously enraptured with each other that they could have been the only two in the room. As the start of alpha shift loomed, more people filtered into the room, and they all seemed to be coming two by two. Kathryn sighed, leaning back against the bulkhead. It’s good, she told herself, really good to see them all happy.

The noise level in the room picked up sharply as another couple walked in. Correction, she thought, somewhat acrimoniously, it’s not just another couple; it’s THE couple. Voyager’s couple. Her chief helmsman and chief engineer sauntered into the room, surrounded by a nearly palpable aura of bliss. Newlyweds, a harsh part of her mind spat in disgust, even as she caught Tom’s eye and smiled graciously at them. She’d been astonished when they’d beamed Tom and B’Elanna back from the Flyer to breathless requests on both their parts for a—what had Tom called it?—shotgun wedding. She’d immediately agreed, smiling happily at them even as a part of her mind screeched in jealousy and agony. And Chakotay had looked so damned happy for them that she’d wanted to deck him.

Her head pounded and she tore her mind away from her bitter thoughts before Tom could see her smile become a frown. She really didn’t want to do anything that might make them think she was anything less than ecstatic for them. She needn’t let her own unhappiness trickle down to her people—life out here was tough enough without that. Her eyes flickered to the doors and her heart sank even further as they slid open, revealing possibly the only people that could make her feel worse at the moment.

Ensign Wildman and Naomi. Sam had her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, and the look of love in her eyes as Naomi walked quickly to Neelix and hugged him tore at Kathryn’s heartstrings. A family. There was a family on her ship, and she was sure—with all the new couples and the Paris-Torres nuptials—that it wouldn’t be the last. She stood abruptly and plunked down her half-empty mug, heading toward the doors. She nodded amiably at the crew around her and had to fight to keep from growling and stalking out.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"Report!" she barked as she stepped off the turbolift onto her bridge. The volume of her own voice surprised her and started her head throbbing all over again.

Chakotay glanced up, troubled by her sharp tone, but as he stood to give her the command chair, he only said, "Good morning, Captain. All systems are working at peak efficiency, and we are on a steady course and speed for the alpha quadrant. The Flyer is back aboard and Shuttle Maintenance is working at removing all traces of the honeymoon from its exterior and interior."

He grinned at her, but it faltered when she didn’t return it. "Um, I’ve put the latest shipboard living assessment on your desk in your ready room—we can go over it whenever you’ve got the time. As you know, there’s a senior staff briefing scheduled for 0930 hours to discuss possible locations for restocking and minor maintenance in this area."

She nodded at him, but her face didn’t soften at all, and Chakotay was unnerved. "Thank you, Commander." Without another word, she sat down, staring straight at the viewscreen. With an internal shrug, Chakotay followed her lead.

Kathryn stared at the monotony of the streaking stars, steadfastly ignoring her headache and rapidly becoming lost in her own thoughts. At one time in her life, the beauty of the sight of stars at warp wouldn’t have failed to hold her attention, but now, all those stars were simply a reminder of how far Voyager still was from home. She silently pondered love—and the lack thereof—in her life. She knew they’d made tremendous progress in their six and a half years in the Delta Quadrant, but even at their accelerated rate of travel, even if they kept finding little shortcuts here and there, it would still probably take them about two decades to get home. She knew that while that wouldn’t necessarily be too late for romance in her life—though she had no great expectations of that—it would definitely be too late to start a family.

I guess Phoebe will have to carry on the family line, she thought wistfully. I always wanted children—a little boy would have been nice. Well, she would have to content herself with the children she was certain would be arriving soon. No matter how much she disapproved, "accidents" would begin to happen, and she could no more order her crewmembers to terminate pregnancies for the supposed good of the ship than she could phaser them in cold blood. Voyager was destined to become a generational ship. Besides, Chakotay’s right. We’re going to need people to replace us eventually. And would it really be so bad to have babies to play with? It’ll be like being a grandma without ever having been a mom…

Wrapped in the fog of her melancholy, the captain didn’t notice how quiet it had become on the bridge. Everyone could sense her bleak mood, and the lighthearted atmosphere that had been present before her arrival slowly dissipated, leaving people tense and silent. Kathryn mused on, totally oblivious to her surroundings and to Chakotay’s concerned glances in her direction.

The strained silence continued for quite a while, only punctuated by very soft reports and commands, until Kathryn sighed and stood up. "I’ll be in my ready room preparing for the briefing, Commander. You have the bridge." She stalked into her refuge without another word, staring at the deck.

Chakotay could practically feel the entire bridge heave a sigh of relief, and he heard Harry murmur in a low, bewildered tone, "What was that all about?" Nobody bothered to answer him, although the first officer knew Tom would have given it a shot if he hadn’t still been on personal leave. Tom. I bet that’s what this is all about. He remembered Kathryn’s reactions to the wedding. She’d tried her best to be thrilled for the couple, and she had probably convinced them, but he was sure that he had seen barely perceptible pain in her eyes, and a very slight tightness in her smile.

He sighed. She was hurting and lonely again, and this happy time—relationships seemed to be suddenly blossoming all over Voyager—was only serving to reinforce her isolation. Gods, Kathryn, you don’t have to be lonely… I wish you’d talk to someone about it, even if it’s not me. The worst part was that he couldn’t say anything to her, couldn’t try to help her or make it better. She’d only interpret it as pushing on his part for a relationship she didn’t want. He wasn’t pushing—never had—he loved her, and he would admit it more than willingly enough to himself, if not to her. He let her set the boundaries of their friendship, and he loved her enough to live within those boundaries, even though he knew that there was so much he could do for her if only she’d let him. Instead, she pushed herself away even further and enveloped herself in seclusion and despondency. She was alone and in pain and all he could do was watch.

Great. Now I’m depressed. He noticed that the bridge, which had started to liven up slightly, had gone quiet again. And they’re reacting to me, to my mood, just as they reacted to hers. He glanced at the chronometer on the center console just as the turbolift doors opened to admit Seven, Joe Carey, and replacements for him, Tuvok, and Harry. Oh good, time for the briefing—at least that will keep us busy, and maybe it will get Kathryn’s mind off her own sorrow.

He nodded to the ensign moving toward the command chairs. He was a bit wide-eyed, and Chakotay realized he was part of the new program to give some of the lower decks crewmembers a chance at command. They were on a rotation, being given small command shifts while senior staff meetings took place, in order to get them acclimated to what Tom called The Big Chair.

"Ensign Dowd, you have the bridge. Tuvok, Harry…"

They followed him into the briefing room, where Kathryn was standing, staring out the viewport. He’d been so busy ruminating about her that he hadn’t even heard her leave her ready room to cross the bridge. He wondered if she’d noticed he hadn’t noticed, and then stopped that line of thought before it got even more ridiculous. She turned when everyone entered, quickly banishing her frown, but not before they all saw it. Her senior staff was unsettled by her unusually subdued demeanor, which remained even after she started the meeting.

Kathryn tried to listen attentively while her staff batted possible restocking locations back and forth. She didn’t really have anything to offer, but she knew the ultimate decision was hers to make. Most of her senior staff seemed to agree that a planetary system relatively nearby would be the most helpful to Voyager’s dwindling supplies, but it would require a week and half’s deviation from their current course in either direction. Delays. Nothing but more delays.

The suggestions gradually came to a halt, and she glanced at each of her staff in turn. They were waiting for her input.

"Good work, people. Let’s proceed with your suggestion, Seven; it seems that everyone thinks it’s the most workable. Mr. Carey, what’s the status of the engines?"

"Operating at peak efficiency, Captain, if not above. Lieutenant Torres would slaughter me for anything less." He smiled and was relieved to see a slight smile from her in return, even though it vanished almost instantly.

"Good. Well, we need supplies, and we could do with a minor maintenance refit. It appears that the minor delay will be more than made up for by the benefits of the detour. If the planets in this system are uninhabited—" she glanced at Seven, who nodded, "—we’ll land Voyager and take care of the refit. Seven, once we’re in close enough range, start scouting for possible landing sites on any of the viable planets. Keep a look out for any signs of life, prewarp or otherwise—we might not be close enough yet for the sensors to detect anything, and we don’t want to land in someone’s backyard. Chakotay, work with Neelix to assign survey and collection teams, and then, if you wouldn’t mind—and the planet is hospitable enough—set about creating a shore leave rotation. I think we could all use a break for a couple of days."

"Aye, Captain." He smiled gently at her and he could feel the rest of them relax—this was more like their captain.

"Let’s do it, then. God knows another month out here probably isn’t going to kill us." The last part had been said very low, but they had all heard it in the quiet room, and he felt them all tense up again.

"Captain?" He kept his voice very neutral, not knowing what was going through her mind.

Shit! Did I say that out loud? I must be more distracted than I thought. God, I’ve got to get them out of here! "Nothing crucial, Commander. Any other questions or concerns?" They all shook their heads, but she could sense them gaping at her. "Dismissed, then. Thank you. Commander, please take the bridge," she added, and she got up to stare out the viewport again as they all filed out. The doors didn’t close immediately and she knew Chakotay was lingering, trying to decide whether he should say anything. Not right now, please. I don’t know if I can deal with you now, she begged silently, closing her eyes in gratitude as she heard the doors finally slide shut behind him.

She longed for the solace of her ready room but didn’t want to cross the bridge. Whose bright idea was it to put the briefing room all the way across the bridge from the ready room, anyway? It was definitely someone who never dealt with depressed starship captains in need of solitude, she thought wryly. A brief thought of initiating a site-to-site transport crossed her mind, before she banished it, rolling her eyes. Why the hell am I hiding from the crew? The next thing I know, I’ll be barricading myself in my quarters again. This is NOT the Void, and that WON’T happen again. For God’s sake, pull yourself together, Kathryn, and walk across your own damned bridge!

She did, squaring her shoulders and leaving the safety of the briefing room. She noticed that her people studiously avoided looking at her as she walked across the bridge, and she wasn’t sure if that annoyed or pleased her. She was so busy staring at the back of Chakotay’s head that she didn’t notice the eyebrow Tuvok raised at her. He always knows when I’m on the bridge. But he hasn’t even noticed me… for the second time today, she thought, viciously shoving away thoughts of why that was making her head ache all over again.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

Kathryn blew her breath out between her lips, rubbing her eyes with one hand and raking the fingers of the other through her hair. She’d spent the last several hours going over plans for the upcoming downtime—organizing potential maintenance rotations and readiness tests, scheduling certain crew evaluations that were difficult to do when the ship was running normally, and fussing over a hundred other minor matters. Take a break, Kathryn… it’s not as if you haven’t got almost two weeks to figure it all out before Voyager even reaches the damn system.

She strode the few steps to her replicator, thinking. The last thing she needed was another cup of coffee. She’d lost track of how many she’d had—her hands would probably start trembling with the next one, and her headache… well, she didn’t even want to think about what more caffeine would do to it.

"Herbal tea, Janeway blend—no. Chakotay blend eight."

The tea materialized, and she gratefully breathed in the slightly spicy scent of it, so reminiscent of her first officer. Cradling the cup in her hands, she returned to her desk, picking up the padd she knew he’d left there. She read it slowly as she sipped her tea, trying to relax, but within five minutes she’d tossed the padd on the desk again with a growl. No fewer than seven couples had requested quarters reassignments in order to be with each other, and that was just in the first few of pages of the report!

Dammit, this really is turning out to be like Noah’s Ark, she thought. Pretty soon they’ll all be paired up and sleeping in their own little separate compartments just like Noah’s animals. Except for a small handful of lonely, miserable souls, like me and Tuvok… and Chakotay, a treacherous part of her mind whispered.

She felt like screaming. Chakotay. She knew it for certain, though. As much as he longed for love and a family, her first officer would never really move on until she’d told him absolutely that there was not a chance in hell for anything between them. She thought of her own unhappiness and realized that she could not continue to put him through the anguish she was experiencing, the constant uncertainty of this limbo state. He deserved a chance at happiness. Right, then. I’ll just have to tell him straight out that there’s not a chance and there never will be, she told herself boldly, even as another part of her screamed, No! You can’t do that!

And you’re not unfocused and distracted now?! You’re not even concentrating on your work! For God’s sake, woman, you’re literally arguing with yourself about it!

This time she did scream, but she managed to shove a hand in her mouth before her cry could carry to the bridge. She bit down hard enough to draw blood, gasping at the bright lights that suddenly went off behind her eyes. Dammit! Now she’d gone and given herself a migraine. As if the constant pounding and throbbing wasn’t bad enough, now she was going to be ill, as well.

She knew she should call Sickbay, or the bridge, or someone, but all of a sudden her exhaustion claimed her. Last night’s insomnia hadn’t been a singular occurrence—she couldn’t remember the last time she had really slept… or eaten for that matter. With her eyes tightly shut, she managed to stagger to her couch, nearly killing herself on the coffee table in the process. She threw herself face down on the couch, burying her violently protesting head in her arms. A sob wrenched itself from her and she finally gave in to the tears that had been threatening her all morning, weeping for several cathartic minutes before she passed out.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

She awoke gradually and opened her eyes slowly, and the first thing she noticed was that the lights had been lowered. She sat up quickly, ignoring the wooziness she felt, and registered a slight heaviness falling away from her chest. She looked down and saw that she’d been covered with a blanket, one in a design she’d seen before.

Chakotay…

The blanket was covered in abstract geometrical shapes, and it had fascinated her, the first time she’d seen it in his quarters. Every time she thought she discerned a pattern in it, she moved slightly and the pattern disappeared. Kathryn knew it had been one of the first things he’d replicated when he’d joined Voyager’s crew, and it was one of his most prized possessions. While the one in his quarters was woven in the muted earth tones he preferred—tans and browns and beiges—this one was done in the soft greens and blues and grays he knew she loved.

It was absolutely beautiful, and it was such a perfect blend of him and her that it brought tears to her eyes.

And he had given it selflessly. She was sure it had cost more than a few replicator rations, too. Why, she wondered. Why did he do this? But she didn’t even have to think about the answer. He did it because he loved her, and he wanted to help her in any way that he could. He had given her the blanket even though he knew she’d probably reject it when she woke up. He had wanted her to have it, even for just a little while.

Even Noah had a family…

Where had that thought come from? Goddammit, I’m not Noah! What is with this Noah fixation?! But she thought about it, and it was true. They may have been the last family on Earth, but they were a family. They weren’t alone; they had one another.

Kathryn shook her head impatiently. She didn’t know why she’d become so obsessed with such an old, mythical story, but it wouldn’t let her go. She knew that her emotions were distracting her a great deal right now, and that if she didn’t find some way to control them soon, they were going to become debilitating, like they had in the Void.

I don’t want to think about that right now. Focus on duty, the job.

All of a sudden, a suspicion began to form.

"Computer, lights to normal." When the computer responded accordingly, she blinked several times against the painful brightness. After a few unpleasant moments, she added, "What time is it?"

"The time is 1812 hours."

Dammit. She’d been asleep for over six hours.

"Computer, what time did Commander Chakotay last enter the ready room?"

"1315 hours."

Her anger grew. This is exactly why a command team relationship wouldn’t work! He had come in during the middle of a shift, and instead of waking her like he should’ve, he had let her sleep. While she was on duty! She threw off the blanket, stood, and began to pace.

"Janeway to Chakotay!"

"Chakotay here. Yes, Captain?"

She could detect the concerned wariness of his voice, and it made her even madder. "Commander, I’d like a word with you in my ready room when you have a moment."

"Of course, Captain. I’m on my way. Chakotay out."

She continued pacing until the door chime rang a few minutes later. She whirled around, hands on hips, and barked, "Come!" A part of her recognized the defensiveness of the posture, but she didn’t care. The door slid open, and he stepped in cautiously.

"Captain?"

"Why didn’t you wake me up? I was on duty!"

"You needed to sleep."

"That’s not your decision to make! You should have awakened me! What if something had happened?"

He bristled; now she’d attacked his sense of duty. "Captain, if anything had come up that required your attention, I would have awakened you, immediately."

His eyes fell on the blanket, which she had carelessly tossed on the floor in her anger, and she could see his face fall slightly, before he hid the expression under a command mask that was almost as good as her own. In her anger, she pounced upon that moment of weakness.

"And what the hell is that all about!?"

"Captain?"

"That blanket! Why did you do that?"

"You were… hugging yourself. You looked cold. I thought you could use a blanket."

"Dammit, Commander, I can take care of myself!"

"You fell asleep on duty, Kathryn, and slept for six hours. Obviously you’re not doing a very good job of it."

"I had a migraine!" She realized she was yelling, and it infuriated her that he remained so calm.

"And that’s supposed to make me feel better about it?"

"It doesn’t matter what you feel, Chakotay! This isn’t about your feelings!"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. She could see she’d struck a nerve, and the worst part was that she was wrong. This was completely about his feelings. And hers. His shoulders slumped slightly and he sighed.

"What is going on with you, Kathryn?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, Commander."

"You… this attitude. You’ve been upset about something all day. What’s wrong?"

"Commander, I—"

"What happened to your hand?"

She stopped, confused. "What?"

Quick as a snake, he moved, grabbing her wrist and bringing her hand up to her eyes. She flinched back from it, even before she saw the bloody mess she’d made of it when she’d bitten it earlier. The blood had smeared, and it looked a lot worse than it was.

"What. Happened. To your hand?"

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like someone bit you. And since no one is in the brig for assaulting the captain, I’m going to assume you did it to yourself. And so I ask again, what is going on with you, Kathryn?"

He rubbed the hand lightly with his thumb, and she pulled it away, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Noth—" She stopped the sullen answer before it finished passing her lips. What ARE you doing? Why are you doing this? Why are you taking it out on him? She sighed. Because it’s so easy to, because he takes it, because he loves you and you’re terrified of him and that love. "Chakotay, have you noticed how much the ship has become like Noah’s ark?"

Now it was his turn to be confused, as much by the abrupt change of subject as by the obscure reference. "What?"

She sat on the couch and motioned for him to sit next to her. He stooped and picked up the blanket, folding it and placing it gently on the arm of the couch before he sat. It was such an unconsciously loving gesture that it made her want to cry.

"Noah’s ark? Do you know that story?"

"No, sorry."

"Old Earth religious myth. It’s been a while since I heard it, and I don’t know if I remember it correctly. Basically, God was angry with all the people on Earth, except for Noah and his family, and he planned a great flood, to wipe out the rest of the human race. He commanded Noah to build a giant boat—an ark—and put his family and all the animals on it. Two of each animal. And so the animals came. Two by two. In pairs. That’s only the beginning of the story, but it’s the part that’s been nagging at me all day long. All those animals, all in pairs."

She finally looked up from where she’d been picking at the couch, and she saw he understood. The comprehension in his eyes was quickly replaced by empathy and his own pain, and he sighed.

"Kathryn…"

"I sat in the mess hall this morning, and I watched the crew come in, two by two, Chakotay. Maybe not animals, but still in pairs. The idea’s been haunting me all day long. And you know what I thought about earlier, when I woke up?"

She paused, looking back at the upholstery she was worrying, and he waited patiently, knowing she’d continue when she was ready. She took a shaky breath.

"I thought, ‘Even Noah had a family.’ He had a wife, and children, Chakotay. He wasn’t alone amidst all those couples."

She looked up again, and her eyes were bright and full. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms to rock and comfort her, but he held himself still. He didn’t know what she wanted from him right now, so he concentrated on just listening, letting her say what she needed to say. When she spoke again, her voice was soft, and he could hear a tremor in it.

"I’m lonely, Chakotay. And I’m scared. I don’t think I can do this alone anymore. The loneliness is driving me crazy. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it with someone by my side either, and I don’t know what to do. I’m the captain of Voyager, and once, that was enough; it had to be. But I want friends and love, and I want a family, but I’m not supposed to have all that, not while I’m captaining Voyager. It goes against everything I’ve learned, everything I believe—believed. And I do nothing but argue with myself, and I’ve been feeling so alone…"

He took a deep breath. Spirits, help me comfort this lost and lonely woman. Help me to help her find herself again.

"Kathryn… I know I’ve said it before, but I don’t think you believe me. You’re not alone, and you never will be. Oh, I don’t mean just me, although I will always do everything I can to make your journey easier. Everyone on this ship cares about you, and they would be your friends and companions, if only you would allow them to. I know that you feel you can’t because you’re the captain, that they would lose respect for you, but that’s just not true. This crew—these people—would follow you into hell if you asked them to, Kathryn—asked, not ordered. That’s not going to change if you spend time with them, show them Kathryn as well as the Captain. If anything, it will strengthen their devotion. Gods, Kathryn. You deserve so much more than this lonely life. You deserve friendship, and happiness, and love, and a family—you deserve the universe and everything in it."

He hadn’t meant to say the last part, and he turned away, before she could see how much of himself and his love for her he had put into those last few words.

"But you have to take the first step, Kathryn. You have to stop punishing yourself and allow yourself happiness. You have to stop hurting yourself. Your people hurt with you, Kathryn. They long to make things easier for you, but you are the captain, and they can only do so much to help, if you don’t let them in."

Things were silent in the ready room for several long moments, as he thought of what else he could say to help her and she tried to absorb everything he’d already said.

"Chakotay…"

"Yes, Kathryn?"

"Why did you replicate that blanket?"

He sighed, willing himself not to be angry with her. He’d been hoping for some sort of acknowledgement, some proof that she’d listened to a word he’d said.

"I told you, you looked cold."

"But why that blanket?"

It dawned on him that she was trying to understand his true motives, trying to look deeper into his feelings, and all of a sudden, he was very apprehensive. He kept his face averted. It would take all of his courage to tell her the truth, and he didn’t know if he could bear to see what her eyes held as he did so.

"I… I know that you like mine. I wanted to give you something beautiful, something you’d treasure. But most of all, I wanted you to have a part of me that would keep you warm and safe, if even for just a little while. I know that I can’t, but…"

There was no answer, and he closed his eyes, willing away the dull ache in his chest. Then, he felt the warmth of her skin as she placed her hand in his, but she said nothing. He stared at their joined hands, hers—small and pale, except where it was marred with her own blood—enveloped in his large, dark one. Unsure of the meaning of the gesture, he slowly raised his head and gazed at her face, amazed.

There were tears running down her face, but she neither acknowledged or denied them as she said in a determined voice that was completely at odds with her vulnerable expression, "Chakotay, I need your help."

"I will do anything I can, Kathryn."

"I need you to help me show this ship who Kathryn is. You probably remember her much better than I do. I think I’ve forgotten everything about her. I need you to help me remember how to make friends."

His heart sank some, but he ignored it, as he had so many times. It’s a step. "Of course, Kathryn. I don’t think she’s as far away as you think she is."

"There’s something else, Chakotay." She stopped, unsure of how to continue. He struggled to keep from straining toward her, from shaking her to make her speak again. He held himself absolutely still, though his heart was racing. Eventually, just when he thought he would scream from the tension, she spoke, very softly.

"I… I love you, but I don’t know what to do about it. I need you to help me remember how to love and be loved. It’s been so long, and I’ve forgotten. Can you help me? Can you love me?"

He sobbed then, once, before he could control it. After a moment of fierce struggle, he managed to whisper, "Always, Kathryn. I will always help you with that, and I do love you."

He brought her hand to his lips and reverently kissed the broken flesh, and the action dissolved the last of her control. She clutched his uniform, sobbing, clinging to him. He wrapped himself around her, shaking out the blanket and covering them both. He held her, she held him, and they christened the blanket—a perfect symbol of their union—with cleansing tears of hope and sorrow and love and regret and joy and forgiveness.