Bitten
By Ralkana

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

The cave-in, when it happened, was unimpressive. One improperly functioning mining drill, pointed in the wrong place, and the whole tunnel fell in, trapping the drilling teams in the large cavern. With a rumble and a crack, forty members of the crew were cut off from Voyager, including four of the senior staff.

Captain Janeway groaned and opened her eyes, but before she could pick herself up off the ground, a large hand appeared before her, offering assistance. Smiling grimly at her first officer, she took his hand and hauled herself up.

"Why is it," she asked calmly, her tone of voice belying her anger, "That this damn crew cannot have a simple away mission where everything goes well?"

"I don’t know, Captain," he stated just as calmly, "But perhaps now you’ll see the logic in not having both members of the command team off the ship at the same time. Although I doubt it, because things like this have never made you reconsider before."

She rolled her eyes at his attempt to continue the argument they’d had earlier in the ready room, but before she could respond, he turned from her and called for all crewmembers to gather in the center of the cavern to sound off. Everyone reported in, and although a few people had been hit by falling rocks, the Doctor didn’t have to treat any serious injuries. The group was immediately split into two teams: one to assess the seriousness of the cave-in, and one to haul all the unrefined dilithium they’d mined into one corner of the cavern and pack it into the cargo containers as soon as possible to minimize its toxicity. The four senior staff members gathered by a wall for a conference.

"Report," Janeway ordered, still seething.

The Doctor went first. "Well, as you can tell, there were no serious injuries. However, it might be detrimental to everyone’s health if we have to remain here for any length of time. It’s bound to grow cold in this cavern, and the raw dilithium—though normally only mildly toxic—is so prevalent in this cavern—"

"The whole reason we’re here—" B’Elanna butted in, scowling.

The Doctor nodded. "Exactly. But exposure to large amounts of unrefined dilithium ore over long periods of time can prove deadly."

Janeway nodded curtly. "We won’t be here that long, Doctor. Chakotay?"

"Well, according to the tricorders—which aren’t as reliable as normal due to the interference in this cavern—the cave-in looks worse than expected. Although the cavern seems to be secure, it looks like the tunnel is blocked for about fifteen meters. Not only that, but it might have sparked other cave-ins along the tunnel system, and we may be trapped again, even if we can manage to move all that rock," he finished softly, and Janeway resisted the urge to groan. Chakotay continued his report.

"The mining lamps we set up are still working well, though I don’t know how long their power cells will hold out. All team members were equipped with Starfleet mining packs, so we have water, emergency rations and medical supplies, wrist beacons, and blankets. We’ve got phasers and plenty of rocks to heat. We’ve all been trained in survival situations. We’ll be okay for the time being."

The captain nodded again. "And if we can’t find a way to get ourselves out of here, Tuvok will find one for us. B’Elanna?"

The chief engineer sighed. "Well, as Chakotay said, the dilithium is wreaking havoc on all the equipment. Tricorders, communications—which we already knew—and I’m sure, transporter locks, or we’d have been rescued by now. Who knows how long the phasers will work as rock warmers? I’m pretty sure that the ore did some damage to the sensors on the mining drills as well. Burton’s not careless," she said, jerking her head toward a stricken-looking crewman in engineering gold who stood staring disconsolately at the new rock wall. "He wouldn’t have made that cut if his drill had been working right. Dammit!" she growled, and then caught herself. "Sorry, Captain. I should have realized it would affect the drills. We were all so anxious to get down here for all this dilithium…"

"Don’t worry, B’Elanna. It’s not your fault, and it’s not Burton’s. Make sure he knows that, and make sure the rest of the crew knows it too. We don’t need any blame spread around; the situation’s bad enough as it is. You’re right, we were all anxious for this opportunity, including me," she said with a glance at Chakotay; he knew it was the only apology he would get, and he smiled briefly, letting her know he accepted it. She continued, "Now we just have to focus on getting out of here. Any suggestions?"

B’Elanna spoke up again. "Well, we’ll have to keep the drills on the lowest setting and cut very, very carefully. If we have one team cutting and one team moving the rock out of the way, we might make some progress."

Chakotay jumped in. "I recommend shifts, Captain. We don’t know how long this is going to take us. There’s about forty of us. If we split into four teams of ten—five to do the cutting, five for the lifting—it will minimize fatigue. I also recommend that the teams regularly switch jobs—cutting shift to lifting and vice versa—for the same reason."

The Doctor nodded. "I agree with the commander. Also, it will minimize direct exposure to the ore. Those not working should convene in the middle of the cavern, away from the walls, and rest. Though this cavern is large and oxygen shouldn’t be a problem, it’s probably a good idea not to engage in any more activity than necessary."

"Understood. Good ideas, people. Okay, Commander, please organize the teams. B’Elanna, keep on eye on the equipment, as much as you can. Doctor, while the three of us will join the effort, I’d like you to stand by. There may be injuries." She glanced back at B’Elanna. "How is the Doctor’s emitter doing?" she asked mildly, aware of the sudden look of alarm on the hologram’s face. "Is the ore interfering with it?"

The engineer shook her head. "No, something in it seems to be neutralizing the effects." Her eyes lit up. "I’ll have to take a look at it again when we get back to the ship. If I can figure out how it’s doing that—"

Janeway smiled. "Good idea. We’ll also have to sit down and rework the mining mission procedures to better take into account possible equipment and sensor failures; it’s something we should have done long before now. However, that comes later. First we have to get out of here. How do digging shifts of an hour sound?" she asked, looking at the Doctor. He nodded, and she returned the gesture. "Good. Let’s go, people." The conference broke up as they headed back to the crew.

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

Almost four hours later, Janeway stifled a groan as she lifted yet another chunk of rock out of Crewman Aron’s way, carrying it to the swiftly growing pile at the other end of the cave. They’d cut through several meters of rock already, but the going was extremely slow, and the work was tedious, mind-numbing, and backbreaking. Aron had offered to let the captain cut while he lifted, but she’d declined, declaring that she would get her hands just as dirty as everyone else. As she made her way back to the site of the cave-in, she stared down at her hands. Yep, they’re filthy…

She caught a glimpse of Chakotay’s dark head and broad shoulders at the other end of the line of diggers. He, like her and most of the crew, had stripped off his jacket and turtleneck and was working in his T-shirt. They’d both been working since the first shift because neither could bear to sit and do nothing while their people were trapped. Though they occasionally made eye contact, neither had yet commented on the fact that the other was still hard at work. She saw him nearly stumble and resolved to have a word with him at the next shift change. They both needed rest; they were growing sluggish and clumsy, and they couldn’t afford that.

She picked up another rock and hissed in pain. Jerking her hand away from the sharp edge, she looked down at her palm to see a jagged gash, the blood already oozing to the surface. "Damn!" she spat, and Aron glanced at her.

"Ouch. That looks pretty bad, Captain. You should probably have the Doctor look at it." He reddened, realizing he was probably out of line.

"That’s a good idea, Crewman. I’ll be back in a moment," she said, laying her uninjured hand on the crewman’s shoulder to let him know his comment wasn’t unacceptable.

She walked as quickly as she could—which wasn’t very fast—to the center of the cavern, where the Doctor was monitoring the resting crewmembers. She was cradling her injured hand, but by the time she reached him, the blood was running down her arm and she had to hold her hand so that it would drip onto the ground instead of soaking her uniform. The crewmember nearest to her took one look at her injury and jumped up.

"I’ll go spell you, Captain."

Janeway opened her mouth to protest and the woman smiled. "The shift’s changing soon anyway, and mine’s up next. I can do a few extra minutes, Captain." The captain nodded.

"Thank you, Crewman Jensen. I appreciate it." The woman made her way to the blocked tunnel and the captain continued on to see the Doctor.

He sprang into action immediately, grabbing a dermal regenerator. He eyed her closely as he cleaned the area and then ran the instrument over her palm. "You have been working for far longer than an hour," he began placidly.

"Yes, Doctor, I have."

"You need to rest, Captain."

"Fine."

"Just because you’re the Captain doesn’t mean—" he stopped abruptly, and she smiled tiredly, realizing that her quick acquiescence had thrown him off guard. "Oh. Good."

"I’m exhausted, Doctor, and I’m going to sit down as soon as you’re finished here."

The Doctor nodded, and said, "Fine. I’m finished; you’re free. Just watch that hand for a while, it’ll be more susceptible to re-injury."

She nodded, flexing the newly healed hand, and turned to walk back to the caved-in entrance.

"Where are you going, Captain?" the Doctor called. "I just told you that you need rest!"

She turned to glare at him and he immediately realized his mistake. She did not appreciate being reprimanded in front of the crew. "I heard you, Doctor. And I agreed, did I not? I’m going to retrieve Commander Chakotay. The shift is changing and I want to make sure he changes with it. Understood?"

He nodded meekly. "My apologies, Captain."

She made no reply as she turned and headed for Chakotay. Sure enough, the shift had changed, and he was still there. She caught him just as he was bending down to reach for another rock.

"Commander," she said softly, and he jumped and turned. "You need to rest."

He looked her up and down and opened his mouth. "I know," she said. "That’s your line. But it’s true; we both do. Come on, let’s go sit down for a while. We’re both very tired, and we can’t afford to make mistakes."

He nodded and she turned toward the center of the cavern. After a few seconds, she realized he wasn’t following. Turning back, she saw he was leaning against the wall, far enough away from the digging teams to be out of immediate view and earshot. She went back to him.

"Are you okay? You look exhausted," she said concernedly.

He nodded. "Fine," he said. "I am tired. Very tired. Guess I’m more out of shape than I thought," he said with a weak grin, which grew as he stared at her.

"What?"

He reached out to brush her hair away from her forehead, and then stopped himself, looking surprised at his own lapse in propriety. "You look like you’ve been playing in the mud, Kathryn."

She looked down at herself. Her gray shirt was filthy, and a thick layer of dust coated her uniform trousers. She knew her hair was a disaster, and she could feel the sweat and dirt caking her face. She looked back at him. His hair was hanging on his forehead, spiked with sweat, and his face and shirt were just as dirty as hers. His arms were covered with dirt and small scratches.

"You’re not exactly a poster boy for cleanliness yourself, Mister," she said, returning his grin. Then she looked closer. He was still sweating profusely, though he’d stopped working, and underneath the dirt his skin was nearly ashen. There were dark circles around both eyes, which were bloodshot and looked slightly unfocused. She couldn’t really tell, but it looked like he might be trembling. "Are you sure you’re okay, Chakotay?" she asked sharply. "You don’t look well."

He shook his head, as if to clear it. "I’m fine," he said again. "Just tired." Then he shook his head again, still in that dazed way. "Actually, no. I don’t feel good," he mumbled, and she was horrified to see that he was swaying on his feet. "I don’t feel very good at all."

"Come on," she said, really worried now. "Let’s get you to the Doctor."

He nodded wearily and took one step forward before his knees gave way beneath him. Even as she leapt to catch him, a part of her noticed how he fell. The man managed to move gracefully even as he was collapsing. Then her rational mind kicked in as she was pushed to the ground under his inert form, and she yelled, "Doctor!" She was stunned by the waves of heat she could feel radiating from his body.

She was suddenly surrounded by crewmembers pulling him off her, placing him gently on the ground, and helping her up. The Doctor knelt by his patient, scanning him quickly with a medical tricorder. "What happened?" he asked tersely.

"I asked him if he felt okay, and he said no, and then he collapsed," she said, fighting to keep the worry out of her voice. "He feels like he’s got a hell of a fever, Doctor."

The EMH nodded grimly. "His body temperature’s almost 41 degrees," he said, and she stifled her gasp. He looked up irritably at the walls. "I need to get him into more open space. The ore is interfering with my readings."

"What is it?" she asked as several crewmen came forward to lift Chakotay. "It can’t be exposure to the ore," she said in a sure voice.

He shook his head. "Be careful with him," he called as Chakotay was half-dragged, half-carried into the center of the cavern and placed on a couple of survival blankets set down by other crewmembers. He and Kathryn followed closely behind. "No, it’s not that. That wouldn’t cause him to just collapse like this. I can’t tell yet, but it looks like some sort of toxin. All right, thank you ladies and gentlemen. A little space, please," he added, and the crew backed off into a larger circle, still watching but from a respectful distance.

"Kahless! What happened to him?" B’Elanna asked with fear in her voice as she ran up to where he was lying.

The Doctor was running a scanner over him again, and it made insistent beeping noises as it was held over Chakotay’s neck. He half-turned his patient, and there, on the back of his neck between his hair and the collar of his shirt, was an angry red weal about twice the size of a rank pip.

"What the hell is that?" Janeway exclaimed.

"Hmm. Looks like some sort of insect bite," the Doctor said, and Kathryn closed her eyes in exasperation.

"Of course." She said tightly. Oh no, not again… "Was it caused by something in this cavern?"

He shook his head, but in irritation rather than negation. "I don’t believe so, Captain. I’m not detecting any dangerous life in this cavern," he said. "But I can’t tell for sure, with this interference."

B’Elanna snapped her fingers. "The food gathering team. This morning he went into the woods with Neelix’ team."

"Could that be it, Doctor?"

He nodded as he pressed a hypospray to Chakotay’s neck. "It could be. I’ve given him a broad-spectrum anti-venom agent. Unfortunately, it might not be effective on this particular toxin, and if the venom has been in his bloodstream since this morning…"

Janeway nodded, not wanting to hear the rest of his sentence any more than he wanted to say it. "There are other members of that team in this cavern," she realized suddenly. "They should be checked too."

Before she could say anything else, B’Elanna stood up, put two fingers in her mouth and whistled sharply. All action in the cavern ceased. "Anybody who went out into the woods this morning report to the Doctor immediately."

Though there wasn’t exactly a mad rush, it didn’t take very long at all for five or six people to make their way to the Doctor. He began to scan them, speaking as he did so. "Commander Chakotay has been bitten by some sort of insect, and I’m just checking to make sure none of you were bitten. Can any of you recall anything… any sort of nest or hive, or any sort of insect at all? Any actions on the commander’s part? It might be helpful to coming up with a diagnosis or treatment."

Crewman Jensen jumped. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "I don’t know how helpful it is… but I remember him… the commander… slapping at his neck. We… were just walking and I was behind him and he jumped… and smacked his neck. I don’t think… he even realized what he’d done," she said softly, "and I didn’t remember it until now." Her eyes hooded over. "I’m sorry, Captain," she said desperately. "I should have reported it earlier, but I didn’t think… I…"

Janeway placed her hand on Jensen’s shoulder. "It’s alright, Crewman," she said soothingly. "You didn’t realize it was important. He obviously didn’t think it was important, though I’ll have to have a word with him about that," she added to the Doctor, "Given his own past personal experience with insect bites." She turned back to Jensen. "Thank you for your help now; it may turn out to be crucial." The young woman nodded. Janeway turned to the rest of the group. "Does anyone remember anything else?"

They all looked lost in thought for a moment, before slowly shaking their heads.

"Doctor?"

"You’re all clear. Some of the others who went back to Voyager may have been bitten, but if that’s the case, I’m sure Mr. Paris has been able to effectively treat them. We need to get out of here, Captain. The commander needs to be in Sickbay."

Janeway turned to the crew at large, dismissing the smaller group around them. "People! Thank you for your concern. Now, let’s get back to work. We need to get back to Voyager." Now more than ever… "One last thing. Any insect bites are to be reported to the Doctor immediately. Understood?" There was a rumble of acknowledgement, and she finished with, "Good. Dismissed." The crew scattered and the digging teams began working again, even more vigorously than before, if possible. She turned back to the Doctor, who was frowning. "What is it, Doctor?"

"I’m curious as to why the commander didn’t come to me sooner. He had to have been feeling the effects of the venom for quite some time."

"He’s stubborn when it comes to doctors and medicine," B’Elanna said, stroking the hair on her friend’s forehead. "He probably thought he could just walk it off."

Janeway shook her head, and the weariness of the past hours suddenly caught up with her. She sank down onto the blanket next to her first officer. She remembered the words he’d said shortly before he collapsed. "No, I don’t think that’s it," she said softly. At B’Elanna’s look of disbelief, she laughed softly. "Yes, he’s very stubborn, and it’s true that he doesn’t like doctors, but I don’t think he realized he was sick until right before he collapsed. He’d been working very hard for hours, and I’m pretty sure he just thought it was fatigue."

B’Elanna and the Doctor nodded. With a sigh, B’Elanna stood, squeezing Chakotay’s shoulder once more. "Well, I’m going to go check on the drill sensors. We can’t have another accident. Especially not now."

When she was out of earshot, Janeway looked at the EMH and said in a low tone, "What are his chances, Doctor?"

The hologram sighed. "I honestly don’t know, Captain. I don’t have enough information down here. On Voyager, I’d—but then it wouldn’t matter. If we were on Voyager, I’d be better able to treat him. With the instruments malfunctioning, I can’t even tell exactly what the toxin’s doing to him. It looks like it’s attacking his muscular tissue, but I can’t be sure. His body is fighting the venom, but even that’s dangerous. His fever is very high, and it’s climbing slowly. If we can’t find a way to lower it soon, it won’t matter very much what the toxin’s doing. The fever will be high enough to cause neurological damage."

Kathryn’s heart sank and she closed her eyes. His worst fear… Chakotay could handle just about anything, except losing his faculties. They’d had a long talk about it after their encounter with the aliens in chaotic space, and she knew the thought of mental degradation was what often kept him up at night. "What can we do for him?" she asked.

"Not much. Try to keep him comfortable and hydrated… the low temperature in the cavern will help with that. But other than that… I’ll keep giving him anti-venom, but without a specific anti-venom after this much time, even that’s probably useless."

Chakotay was still on his side, and without thinking, Kathryn reached out to lightly touch the bite on his neck. He shifted and groaned, and the Doctor said, "That’s probably pretty painful, Captain."

Properly chastised, she pulled her hand away, gently rolling him so that he was on his back. She bunched up his and her jackets and turtlenecks and put them carefully under his head as a pillow. When she moved back from him she jumped to see his dark brown eyes regarding her fuzzily.

"Wh’ happened?" he asked in a slurred voice.

"You’ve been bitten by something, probably an insect," she answered, resisting the urge to smooth his hair away from his forehead as B’Elanna had.

He groaned. "’Gain?" he asked softly. "Get you this time?"

She chuckled briefly. "Nope. Not this time. But it got you, pretty bad. How are you feeling?" she asked, knowing the Doctor was hovering nearby with questions to ask.

"Hurts," he said vaguely. And then, "Cold."

She frowned. "Chakotay, you have a very high fever. You can’t possibly be cold."

"Freezing," he insisted, and she saw that he was shivering and his arms were covered in gooseflesh. She looked questioningly at the Doctor.

"He’s probably going into shock," the hologram said quietly, "And fever does that sometimes."

"What can we do?"

"Try and keep him warm, but he’s probably going to perspire heavily. We just have to make sure he doesn’t dehydrate."

She gingerly lifted his head and removed her turtleneck from the makeshift pillow. Using water from her bottle, she wet the cloth and used it to gently clean his arms and face. He groaned and shivered at the contact of the cool water on his skin.

"Shh. I know… we’ll warm you up in a minute, I promise. Let’s clean you up first." After a moment more, she asked, "Chakotay, can you sit up?" He tried but was too weak. The Doctor and Kathryn hoisted him into a sitting position and the Doctor held him while she struggled to replace his turtleneck and jacket. It was probably uncomfortable, but it would help keep him warm. When she finished, she placed his water bottle at his lips. He drank greedily until she took it away, wanting to save some for later and not wanting him to make himself ill. Then they laid him back down, but he was still shivering.

"Sorry, Captain," he said through chattering teeth.

She looked down at him, astonished. "For what?"

"Getting bit again… not being able to help the crew now…"

She laughed softly. "It’s not your fault bugs find you irresistible."

"Just bugs, hmm?" he said quietly, with just a ghost of his normal grin.

Kathryn smiled back, though something in her ached to see him like this. She looked around for a discarded blanket, and seeing none, prepared to give him her own. Then a soft voice said, "Here, Captain."

One of her crewmen was standing before her with three folded blankets in his arms. She was about to protest when he smiled and said, "We’re about to start digging anyway." She looked behind him and saw two more crewmembers standing at a discreet distance but obviously watching her and waiting for their friend. "We don’t need them, but Commander Chakotay does. We’d like to help… it’s the least I can do," he finished sadly.

She realized it was Crewman Burton, the man whose unwise cut had stranded them all here. "Thank you, Crewman. It’s a big help. This is not your fault," she added firmly, and he nodded, but she could see he wasn’t convinced. He gave her the blankets, nodded again, and walked back toward his friends. She covered Chakotay carefully, tucking the blankets around him, and wondered how he could even breathe in the stifling heat, especially with such a high fever. She sighed gratefully as she realized he was shivering less now. His eyes, which had watched her wordlessly since he’d made the crack about bugs, began to droop and his breathing, while still ragged, evened out some.

She reached out to wake him, and the Doctor said, "Let him sleep, Captain. It’s probably best under the circumstances. You should rest too."

She stared at him. He expected her to rest while her best friend and first officer lay dying and nearly a third of her crew was trapped in a cave that was growing more toxic with each passing minute. As soon as she got up enough energy to stand, she was going to go back to the entrance and help with the digging.

"You worked just as hard as Chakotay did. Rest for a while; your body needs it. Before all of this—" he gestured to the sleeping form beside her "—happened, you told me you were exhausted and planning to sit at the first opportunity. Follow up on that."

His words struck a chord in her. She suddenly realized how weary she actually was and nodded weakly at the Doctor. Maybe she would rest, just for a little while. Then she’d get up and help. She lay down on her blanket, which gave her the perfect vantage point to watch Chakotay’s chest rise and fall. It was doing so fairly evenly, but every once in a while there was a tiny hitch in his breathing, which would cause one in her own.

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

Kathryn awoke abruptly to the sound of Chakotay’s voice, but it was loud and manic and quite different from the soft, firm tones with which she was so familiar. She sat up quickly and looked around for the Doctor. He was right there, scanning Chakotay with a medical tricorder.

"He’s hallucinating," the Doctor said crisply. "He’s been doing so for about an hour."

"How long have I been asleep?" Janeway asked, trying to wipe the sweat from Chakotay’s brow. The blankets above and below him were soaked. His eyes were open, but they were glassy and unfocused. He was still speaking in that loud, unfamiliar voice, and every so often, he laughed. His hands waved weakly under the blankets.

"About an hour and a half."

"He’s raving," she said sadly.

"Well, technically, yes. But not in Federation Standard. He’s speaking his native language, but I gather that even that isn’t making much sense. The universal translator embedded in my program isn’t helping much… a few words here and there. He’s becoming very dehydrated, Captain. A few of the crew have helped me to try and get him to sit up and drink, but he fights us. We end up spilling more than we can get him to drink. I’ve been giving him anti-dehydration injections, but even those can’t keep up with his fluid loss."

Kathryn leaned over to try and make eye contact, but it was useless. She grabbed his shoulder and the Doctor grabbed the other, but he struggled weakly and avoided their grasp. She took a deep breath. "Commander, sit up. That’s an order. From the captain," she said in as much of a command tone as she could muster.

There was no response, other than another laugh and more gibberish. She rested her hand on his forearm and looked up at the Doctor again. "He feels even warmer now," she said, astonished.

The Doctor nodded. "His temperature’s gone up another half a degree."

Suddenly Chakotay’s whole body twitched and convulsed for a few seconds, and he cried out. The movement was very unlike the small motions his limbs and head had been making while he raved, and much more disturbing.

"What was that?" Janeway asked sharply.

"A muscle spasm. They’re increasing in frequency and strength. The venom is attacking his muscular tissue, breaking it down, probably for easier digestion. It’s happening slowly, but I imagine that’s because the commander is much bigger than his attacker’s intended prey."

She involuntarily laughed, and she could hear the hysterical tinge to it. When she looked back up, the Doctor was regarding her warily. "So he’s hallucinating, dehydrated, his fever’s still rising, and his muscles are dying. Any more good news?" she asked in a much shriller tone than she intended.

Calm down! she admonished herself, and then she was struck with another thought. I’m watching him die. Right here, right now, he’s slowly dying, and I can’t do anything about it. Nobody can. I imagined shuttle crashes, alien attacks, phaser burns, even old age and natural causes, but not a goddamned spider bite! She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

Ignoring the Doctor, she leaned over him again, looking into his terribly gleaming eyes. In a tone of voice she very rarely used around anyone but Chakotay, she said softly, "Chakotay, it’s Kathryn. Can you hear me? Please listen…"

She placed one hand on his shoulder and the other on his forehead, where her thumb unconsciously began to stroke the elegant lines of his tattoo. He was still talking, but his voice had softened and he wasn’t fighting her touch. She took that as a good sign.

"Chakotay, listen to me. You’re very sick, and we need you to sit up and drink some water. Can you do that? For me?" He still didn’t respond, but when she pulled lightly at his shoulder, he moved willingly. She nodded at the Doctor, and together they hauled him up into a sitting position. Kathryn was horrified at how drenched with perspiration he was, and how much heat she could feel coming from his body. He was trembling. She saw, as his head fell forward, that the bite had worsened in appearance, becoming almost purple with angry red lines radiating from it. It had begun to ooze something, and Kathryn was pretty sure she didn’t want to know what that was.

She held his half-empty water bottle to his lips and he drank, slowly. When the bottle was empty, she looked at the Doctor and asked, "More?" He nodded. Still holding his shoulder with one hand, she reached behind her for her own water bottle. He drank about a third of the bottle before choking and gasping as his body spasmed again.

"Thank you, Captain, for your help. That’s fine for now," the Doctor said as they settled Chakotay back against the blankets. "We’ll try again in a little while."

She nodded, unable to say anything. B’Elanna appeared and sat down on Chakotay’s other side, grasping his hand between both of hers. "Hey, old man," she said softly. "How are you?" She glanced at the Doctor sharply. "Don’t answer that," she said. "I have eyes, and I don’t think I want to know the medical terms." She looked at Janeway. "My crews threatened to mutiny and carry me over here if I didn’t come rest, so I thought I’d sit with him for a while," she said with a small, sad smile.

Before Kathryn said anything, Chakotay, recovered from his latest spasms, began to speak again. If anything, it was less coherent than before. The words were even more run together, but there was no manic laughter this time. Kathryn wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. B’Elanna looked at her, and the captain was surprised at the depth of the fear in the younger woman’s eyes.

"He’s been like this for a while," Kathryn said softly. "I think it’s getting worse."

"He’s not making any sense at all," B’Elanna whispered.

"Well, it’s not Standard he’s raving in… it’s his native language, but the Doctor says that’s not making any sense either."

The women sat and watched him, each stoically holding one of his hands as the muscle spasms increasingly interrupted his speech and rocked his body. It broke Kathryn’s heart to hear Chakotay mangle his beautiful native language, and it hurt her to hear the natural cadences and rhythms destroyed by the jerkiness of his feverish speech. He rarely spoke it, and even more rarely in the presence of others, and she knew he would be mortified when he learned what he had been doing to it in front of all these people. She stubbornly refused to acknowledge the fact that he would probably never learn about today, probably never wake up from this. He will not die down here, she vowed.

After a while, she and B’Elanna sat him up again and gave him some more water, and Kathryn wasn’t sure if she was grateful or jealous that Chakotay seemed to respond to the younger woman’s voice just as easily as he had to hers. Now is not the time to dwell on that, she snapped inwardly, forcing her increasingly fractured mind to focus.

She jumped as she heard her name fall from his lips, but when she glanced into his eyes she knew it was just one word in the unceasing torrent of them being produced by his fevered mind. She looked back at B’Elanna to see a tiny smile playing at the edges of the younger woman’s trembling lips.

"Well, Commander," she said softly. "Are you talking to me or about me? I expect a full report on this…"

The Doctor looked up from where he was treating a crewmember’s injured wrist. "He just said something about a boat and a monkey, I think. I told you he wasn’t making much sense." He and B’Elanna were both startled when Kathryn jumped up with a gasp.

"Oh God," she murmured softly. "I can’t… I have to get…" She rushed toward the cave entrance, leaving several very surprised people behind.

For two hours Kathryn joined the escape effort, working on autopilot. She lifted rocks, carried them across the cave, set them down, and repeated the process over and over, all without speaking. Though she tried to shut her mind down, images of the past six and a half years fluttered behind her eyes, all of him or the two of them. She vaguely heard a crewmember report to her that they were almost through the rockfall, and that they might be free soon. She knew that she responded in a captainly manner, but it, like everything at the moment, was automatic.

She found herself praying as she had not in decades, promising all sorts of things she would not be able to deliver, if only she could get Chakotay out of this cave. She stumbled once, but she was away from the eyes of her crew when it happened, so she simply picked herself up and kept going. The second time it happened, she was instantly surrounded and helped up. Within seconds, the Doctor was there, notified by a worried crewmember. He firmly grabbed her arm and led her toward the blankets and the group in the center of the cave. She fought weakly, not wanting to go back there.

"I can’t, Doctor," she hissed, nearly inaudibly. "I can’t just sit there and watch him die. Please."

"Captain," he responded in just as low a tone, for which a tiny part of her mind was vaguely grateful. "I don’t care where you sit, but you need to rest. Don’t face him if you don’t want to, but you need to be in the center of the cave away from all the walls."

She gave in, knowing that he was right and she needed rest, and allowed him to lead her. The quiet was the first thing that struck her when she reached the small group at the cavern’s center. The scene drew Kathryn’s attention against her will. B’Elanna and a crewman were holding Chakotay up, attempting to get some water into him, but the nearly constant convulsions of his body weren’t allowing for much success. He was no longer raving; his eyes were shut and his head lolled on his neck, despite B’Elanna’s efforts to hold it steady. The sight nearly wrenched a sob from Kathryn as she sank down beside him. The Doctor took the crewman’s place, dismissing him. He returned to the larger circle of crew who sat further out, trying not to look but unable to turn away.

With a growl, B’Elanna shook his shoulder. "Come on, old man, you have to drink. You have to fight this, dammit! You can’t let a damn stupid bug stop you after all this time. You’re a fighter. Fight this!" With what sounded suspiciously like a sob, she gave up and threw the water bottle away from her, not caring where it landed or that it spilled its precious contents into the dirt. She and the Doctor lowered him back to the ground, but B’Elanna wasn’t finished yelling at him.

"You’re my oldest friend, Chakotay. You saved my life! You were all I had for a time. Don’t you dare leave me now! I need you! I need your advice. Hell, my baby’s going to need a godfather!" At the shocked looks of the Doctor and the captain, she added hastily, "Someday! So you better be here for that, or I’ll never forgive you! Don’t you dare give up, dammit!"

The Doctor grabbed his medical tricorder, aiming it at the chief engineer. "Lieutenant Torres, if you have come down to this planet pregnant—"

"I’m not pregnant, dammit! But somebody’s got to tell him something that will keep him alive! Don’t waste your time scanning me, Doctor. Do something for him! Now!"

With a sigh, his suspicions eased, the Doctor turned his scanner on Chakotay. "There’s nothing more I can do. His temperature has risen another quarter of a degree, and soon the damage to his muscular tissue will be irreparable."

Shutting them both out, Kathryn took his twitching hand in hers and leaned in very close to his ear. "Chakotay, I don’t know if you can hear me, but you can’t give up," she whispered, ignoring the tremor in her voice. "Don’t give up, please. I know you watched me die, but I don’t think I can do that. I’m not strong enough for that, and I’m not strong enough to do this without you. I need your help, Chakotay. I need you. Please come back to us. Come back to me, my angry warrior. You are a warrior, and you have to fight this. Please, come back to me and I am yours," she promised, knowing she shouldn’t, knowing it went against everything she’d learned, knowing it was a dangerous and unpredictable vow, and not caring.

Besides, a tiny part of her mind rationalized, even if he wakes up, he won’t remember, and nobody else heard, so you’ll be off the hook. Angry at herself for not even being able to be honest about a promise to him on his deathbed, she jumped up but immediately sank back down. She was too tired to fight anybody, including—or maybe especially—herself. Still, wanting to be sure that her promise would be recognized somehow, she leaned over and pressed her lips to his. Then, exhausted beyond belief, she simply rested her head on his chest, feeling as his body uncontrollably shuddered and his breathing began to slowly shallow as the muscles controlling it started to give up their fight. She made no effort to stop or conceal the tears that began to flow.

She had no idea how long she lay there, feeling him die and listening to B’Elanna mutter to him and the Doctor mutter to all of them. Time had no meaning any more. Her crew was doing their best to get themselves out of here, and she was too exhausted to help, so she simply lay there as the best part of her heart died inside and underneath her.

She vaguely heard shouts from the direction of the cave entrance and a crewman came running up, skidding to a halt before her. She raised her head and tore her eyes away from Chakotay in an attempt to focus on the excited man before her.

"Captain!" he exclaimed. "We’ve just broken through the wall and there are Voyager teams on the other side. If we can get everyone ten meters or so out on the other side of the cave-in, we can start beaming people up, Ma’am."

Janeway struggled to her feet, forcing the part of her mind called "Captain" to come forth and do her duty. "Doctor," she called. "You and the commander first. Use as many of the crew as you need to get him out of here and up to sickbay," she said, and he was already packing up his equipment and calling over several of the crew. "Everyone who’s been trapped down here also needs to be looked over to make sure the ore hasn’t seriously affected anyone. B’Elanna, organize the digging teams to carry up as much of the containered ore as we can before sending them all to sickbay for check-ups. If the area is judged stable, send more teams down to go through the rock we dug for more usable ore." Seeing the chief engineer open her mouth, Janeway glared at her, hands on hips. "This mission will not have been in vain, Lieutenant, no matter what happens."

"Understood," the half-Klingon said softly. "What will you be doing, Captain?"

"I will be supervising the teams down here until they are all back aboard my ship, Lieutenant."

"Captain," the Doctor said, "Nobody will blame you or fault you if you go up with the first teams."

"I will not leave this cavern until all of my people are safely out of here. Now tend to your patient, Doctor," she hissed as she stalked toward the pile of cargo containers against the far wall.

Numb once again, she participated in the bustling activity around her, making sure that debris and packs were picked up and nothing was left behind. She silently handed cargo containers to teams of crewmembers, ignoring their concerned glances, and then she stood outside the caved-in tunnel, watching as team after team was beamed up. Only when Tuvok’s scratchy call came through that everyone was accounted for did she call for transport for herself.

Kathryn materialized in sickbay and found herself staring dully at the back surgical bay, where the Doctor, Tom Paris and several other people were moving rapidly around a patient as alarms went off and instruments sounded in the cacophony of emergency. She vaguely registered B’Elanna on one side of her and Neelix on the other, but all her attention was held by the action at the back. Then, the sounds began to fade as if she was moving away from them quickly, and the lights began to dim into blackness. She felt hands grabbing at her and heard herself being called, and then there was nothing.

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

With a gasp and a groan, she sat up quickly, looking wildly around Sickbay. Her eyes focused automatically on the figure on the surgical biobed in the back, and she stared at his pale face from across the room. His face… his face, I can see his face. That means something important… What does it mean? Then it hit her. The fact that she could see his face meant that he wasn’t completely covered with a bioblanket, which meant that he was alive. The Doctor was still hovering over him, scanning him or doing something to him, but all of the alarms were silenced.

She tried to slide off the biobed she was lying on, only to be restrained by a strong hand on her shoulder. She whipped her head around and found herself staring into the concerned eyes of Tom Paris.

"Easy," he said softly. "Just take it easy for a while, Captain."

"Report, Lieutenant!"

"You’re fine. Other than the fact that you’re dehydrated, haven’t eaten, haven’t slept, are suffering from extreme fatigue, and fainted dead away, you’re perfectly healthy," he said, amazed at how much of the Doctor’s acerbic tone he could hear in his own voice.

"Not me," she hissed.

Tom sighed. "He’s alive."

He could see the fear as it leapt into her eyes, before she battled to shove it all down. "That’s it? He’s alive?" she asked in a perfectly steady tone.

"Well, that’s all we’re really sure of right now. We had a specific anti-venom ready because while you were all trapped down there a couple of members of Neelix’ team came in complaining of symptoms I’m sure you’re familiar with. With some research, we discovered the insect responsible for the bites and figured out a way to counteract the venom. We’ve been giving him doses, and we think it’s got the venom out of his system, but not before it did serious damage to his muscles. The Doctor thinks that with several treatments and intense physical therapy, he’d regain the use of everything, but he’d be weak for a long time."

Kathryn had closed her eyes. "What about… the fever? His mind?"

Tom sighed again. "We don’t really know. We got the fever lowered pretty quickly after we got him up here, but he had it for quite a while, and it was a high fever. It will be hard to tell what’s been affected before he wakes up. It’s possible nothing has. It’s possible there’s quite a bit of damage. We just don’t know yet."

"You said ‘before he wakes up’ not ‘if he wakes up.’ He’s going to live?"

Tom nodded. "Yes, he’ll live. Whether or not he’ll be Chakotay when he wakes up is another story," he said sadly.

She returned the nod and slid off the biobed. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Keep me informed."

"Excuse me, Captain, but where do you think you’re going?"

"To take a shower and then to the bridge."

"Oh no, you can go to your quarters for a shower, but then you’re going to stay there and rest for twenty four hours. You fainted, Captain. Your body is still exhausted. You need something to eat and a good night’s sleep."

She stared at him. He was becoming more like the Doctor every day.

"I can call the Doctor over here, but as you can see, he’s kind of busy at the moment," Tom said. "I’m only relaying his orders, Captain."

Kathryn nodded wearily. "Fine. Twenty-four hours, and not a moment more. But I expect to be notified immediately if there’s a change in his condition."

"Yes, ma’am."

Somehow, Kathryn managed to get herself back to her quarters. She knew that she should shower and eat something, but all she managed to do was find her way to her bed, which she fell on, not caring that she was getting the bedding filthy. Curling into as small a ball as she could, she cried herself into exhaustion, and finally slept.