Bitten, Part II
By Ralkana

Disclaimer – I don’t own them; Paramount does. I think if I owned them, they’d have been much, much happier! I did borrow some dialogue from "Resolutions." It’s pretty obvious which dialogue I nicked if you’ve seen the episode or know anything about it.

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

This one’s rated R for some adult language.

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

Kathryn tossed the padd on her desk, sighing in frustration. She looked up to see Tuvok staring at her from across the desk, one eyebrow raised. She bit back another sigh, this one a sigh of irritation. Chakotay’s looks of reproach had always made her laughingly apologize for her bad mood; Tuvok’s just made her cranky.

She longed to talk to Chakotay. He was doing well, according to the Doctor. He had awakened after thirty-four hours in a coma-like state. She had gone to see him, but he had been frightened and confused, unable to understand why he couldn’t move anything. His confusion hadn’t abated when he’d been told he wasn’t paralyzed, just extremely weak. Before she could even speak to him, Tuvok had called her to the bridge because they had been under attack by yet another race of hostile aliens. She’d heard the Doctor order a sedative even as she hurried out the Sickbay doors.

She had received the Doctor’s full report, rejoicing at the cautious optimism she read there. There was little neurological damage. He was having trouble with short-term memory, but the Doctor was sure that in a short amount of time—and with some careful treatment—his mind would learn to navigate around the damaged sections. His muscles, however, were another story. The treatments had been successful, but Chakotay was severely weakened, and it would take intense and painful physical therapy before he could resume even a semblance of his daily routine. In short, her first officer was out of commission indefinitely. In addition, the Doctor had asked that Tom take over sickbay for the time being, while he supervised Chakotay’s rehabilitation, so she was not only short an XO, she was also short a chief helmsman. Not for the first time, she cursed her decision to make their best pilot their backup chief medic.

She and Tuvok had agreed to split the first officer’s duties. Over the years, she’d forgotten how much Chakotay had taken on in his position, far more than that of execs on other ships. He was the ship’s unofficial counselor, as well as the spiritual advisor, and the personal connection between all the ship’s departments and the bridge, not to mention all the little things he did to help her in her daily tasks. He had always borne his duties—and hers—so uncomplainingly, and it gave her yet another reason to miss him.

Kathryn was very worried about him. He was back in his quarters, and according to the Doctor and the ship’s logs, he only left them for therapy, and he did that reluctantly. He was withdrawing further and further into himself, refusing to talk to anyone. B’Elanna had been to see her several times, almost in tears at Chakotay’s brisk dismissals of her concern. Kathryn herself had tried to contact him often, but their encounters had almost begun to follow a script.

"Janeway to Chakotay," she’d hail.

"Chakotay here, is this absolutely vital, Captain? I’m exhausted right now," he’d reply.

"I thought you might like a friend to talk to," she’d offer.

"Maybe later, Captain. I’m very tired. Thank you for your concern, Chakotay out," he’d finish, and that would be the end.

She missed him terribly, and not as her first officer. She and Tuvok would muddle through it somehow, though she had to admit that the ship wasn’t running nearly as smoothly nor as warmly as it did when Chakotay was well. When he returned to duty, she’d never take him for granted again.

No, she missed her best friend. She missed his laughing eyes on the bridge, his solicitous comments about her eating and sleeping habits, their working dinners. She missed all of that, and every time she thought of him, the promise she’d made to him in that hellhole of a cavern floated back into her mind.

Now, she came back from her musings to find Tuvok staring at her, a look on his face that bordered on concerned.

"Are you well, Captain?"

"Yes, Tuvok." Then she sighed. "No. I’m not. I’m very worried about Commander Chakotay."

He raised an eyebrow again. "Perhaps you should go talk to him. Your shift has been over for twenty minutes. I will finish the review of the departmental reports."

"He won’t talk to me, Tuvok. He won’t talk to anyone. That’s what I’m worried about."

"Perhaps you should not give him the option of refusing," the Vulcan said stoically. "I have often observed the commander interrupt you for your own well being when you have clearly expressed the desire to be left alone."

Kathryn smiled, remembering all the times Chakotay had barged into her ready room to tell her to eat or to go rest. "He’s very upset, Tuvok, and I don’t want to do anything that might delay his recovery."

"The commander is a very proud man. I believe that he is having doubts about his ability to return to his position as first officer, about his usefulness in general, and in particular to you, Captain. He is, as Mr. Paris would say, wallowing. Perhaps he needs someone’s attention. Someone who will not let him give up."

She smiled again, realizing Tuvok was telling her to go give Chakotay a swift kick in the ass. "I think you’re right, Tuvok. Thank you, for your help, and your advice. Computer, locate Commander Chakotay."

"Commander Chakotay is in his quarters."

"Is he asleep?"

"Negative."

She smiled at Tuvok and quickly left the ready room, making her way through the ship to her quarry’s den. She waited until she was standing outside his door before tapping her combadge.

"Janeway to Chakotay."

"Chakotay here. Captain, can—"

"Are you dressed, Chakotay?"

There was a pause. "Pardon?"

"Are you dressed?"

"Yes…"

"Good," she said, overriding the door lock. "Janeway out. We need to talk, Chakotay."

He was sitting on his couch, his head resting on the back. He looked drained, and very small, and her heart ached at the sight. He sighed.

"Go away, Kathryn," he said without opening his eyes.

"I don’t think so. Would you like something to drink?" she asked, crossing to his replicator.

"Go away!" he repeated, more harshly this time.

"No! Not until we talk. Now do you want something, or not?"

He sighed again, this time in defeat. "Fine. Cup of tea."

She got him a cup of tea and herself a cup of coffee and brought them to the couch. "Here," she said, handing him his cup. She’d forgotten how weak he was, and she let go before he had a firm grasp on it. She watched in horror as the cup tumbled end over end, spilling its steaming contents down his leg.

"Damn!" he cursed, and then he hissed in pain, trying unsuccessfully to stand and fumbling clumsily with the fastenings of his trousers.

"Move, Chakotay," she ordered, putting her hands over his. "Let me do that, it’s going to burn you."

"I can do it, Kathryn!" he muttered.

"No, you can’t!" she said harshly, shoving his hands away. In one quick movement, she undid his trousers and pulled them down his legs, quickly checking his skin to see the damage. It was red, but not blistered, and she didn’t think it was a serious burn.

"I don’t think it’s ser—" she began, stopping when she looked up and caught the expression on his face. There were tears running down his cheeks, and there was such a look of frustration and helplessness on his face that her heart felt like it was breaking.

"Just leave me be," he said in a completely broken tone. "Can’t you leave me alone?"

"Oh, Chakotay," she murmured. "Let me help, please."

"With what?! There’s nothing you can do. I’m just useless."

"That’s not true! The Doctor says you’re making excellent progress."

"He’s full of shit," he said irritably. "I’ve been working my ass off for three weeks, bleeding, sweating, and crying, and I can’t do anything. I can’t walk, I can barely sit up, I can’t hold a cup of tea. I can’t even fucking undress myself!" he shouted, and Kathryn was shocked. He never shouted, and he never cursed—at least, not at her.

His voice dropped to a near whisper. "How can I ever do anything again, Kathryn? How can I pilot a shuttle? How can I negotiate a treaty? How can I carve stone or wood? How can I create a sand painting or cook a meal? How in the names of all the gods can I ever be useful to you again?"

Kathryn turned her head away, hiding her tears. She didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know how to make this better. All the times he’d given her counsel, and she didn’t know what to do to help him in return. Everything she could think of to say sounded selfish to her, things that she needed him for, and she desperately wanted to help him for his sake, not for hers.

"You will do all that again, Chakotay. You just have to keep trying. It will get easier."

"Haven’t you been listening? Nothing is helping! I’m not getting better!"

"It’s only been three weeks. This wasn’t a little fall, or a strained muscle! You almost died, Chakotay! Every single muscle was dying. I watched it, dammit! I watched you dying!" she exclaimed with a shudder. After a moment, she continued, "It’s going to take a long time for you to heal. But you have to keep trying, and you have to believe in yourself. None of this will help if you tell yourself that it won’t."

"Spare me the positive thinking crap. I get enough of that from the Doctor."

She closed her eyes. He was so bitter, so unlike the gentle, optimistic Chakotay she knew so well. She wondered briefly if his personality had been affected by the fever, but she knew that that wasn’t the case. He was just overwhelmed by his situation.

"What can I say, Chakotay?" she whispered. "What can I say to make you believe me?"

She wanted desperately to tell him about the promise she’d made him, but when she had come back to the ship and thought about it, she’d realized that she didn’t even know if that was something that he wanted anymore. They hadn’t even hinted about a relationship between them in so long; before his injuries, it had seemed at times like he still loved her, but other times, all he had seemed to want was friendship. She didn’t know if telling him would motivate him or make him angry.

"Nothing," he said dully. "Just go back to running your ship, Kathryn, and let me be."

She jumped up, fists balled at her sides. She gave him a glare the likes of which he’d never seen before, and it startled him. He had never seen her this angry.

"Goddammit Chakotay! I don’t care about the fucking ship! Right now I don’t care if the fucking ship crashes into a damn planet! I care about you! My best friend, who is sitting here in so much pain, and I don’t know how to help you! I don’t know what to do! I just want to help you, dammit, and it’s killing me to see you like this! I already had to watch you die slowly, and now it’s happening again, and I don’t know what to do! It’s killing me!" she repeated, and it was almost a scream. She fell to her knees, burying her head in her hands and sobbing into them.

Chakotay sat, wide-eyed and in shock at her outburst. Before he could figure out what to say, she was clinging to his bare leg, and he could feel her tears on his skin.

"Don’t leave me," she sobbed. "I need you, Chakotay. Please don’t leave me. Come back to me. I can’t do this without you."

"Kathryn, I can’t!" he said, in anguish. And then she said something that he was sure he must have misheard.

"I love you. I love you, Chakotay. Don’t leave me, please."

He gasped in a sharp breath. "Kathryn?!" he asked. When she didn’t respond, he rested his hand on her head with great effort. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulled slightly, so that she had to look at him. He read the love and the agony in her eyes, for once not hidden from him behind her command mask.

"I couldn’t stand it, Chakotay. You were dying, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing that anyone could do but watch. It was awful, and I felt like I was dying too. And I promised you that if you came back to me I would tell you that I love you, and offer myself to you. I don’t even know if you want me anymore, but I had to tell you. I promised you on your deathbed, and I won’t back down now. But please, even if you don’t want me, don’t give up. Come back to me. I need my friend, even if I can’t have the man I love."

Chakotay was crying now too. "Why?" he grated out. "Why would you tell me this? Why now, when there is nothing that I can do for you, nothing that I can offer you? When I’m nothing but a burden?"

She grabbed his shirt in both hands. "You are not a burden, Chakotay!" she shouted. "You’re not a burden, and you’re not an invalid, dammit! You are injured, but you can recuperate! You can if you want to! But you don’t want to…" she trailed off, looking away as the tears started again.

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what was going on. "Kathryn, are you telling me all this just so I’ll try harder at my therapy and be your first officer again?"

Kathryn reared back and there was fury in her eyes. She hauled her hand back and slapped him, and the crack of flesh on flesh echoed through the room. "How dare you? You think that I would come to you when you’re hurting this badly, come to you and confess my love to you, use it as a ploy just so that I could get my ship back to optimum efficiency? You really think that I’m that cold and heartless? Well fuck you!" she cried, scrambling to her feet, and backing away from him. "If that’s what you think of me, Chakotay, then rot in here. I don’t care!" she said, but it ended on a sob as she ran out of his quarters.

Kathryn stalked to her quarters, punching angrily at the door panel. She was too upset to enter the right code, and after three tries, she gave up and tersely ordered the computer to open the door. She entered her quarters, wiping angrily at her tears. Her combadge chirped.

"What?!" she snapped.

"Uh, Captain, Torres here. Commander Tuvok said you went to see Chakotay. I was just calling to see how he was."

"He can go fuck himself for all I care!" she said and closed the link. She made her way into her bedroom, and for the second time in a month, curled up on her bed and cried herself to sleep.

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

On the bridge, everyone turned wide eyes on B’Elanna, who was standing stock still by the turbolift, her mouth wide open. Everyone on the bridge had heard the captain’s reply loud and clear.

"Oh my god," someone whispered.

B’Elanna turned and slowly walked back to the command deck, where Tuvok was sitting in the captain’s chair, with his eyebrow nearly at his hairline.

"I think I’d better go check on Chakotay," she said quietly.

"That is a very good idea, Lieutenant," he replied gravely.

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

Chakotay grunted with effort, disregarding the tears that kept coming. He struggled for several minutes to at least get his trousers back up, and he finally got them fastened again, though the effort exhausted him. They were wet and uncomfortable from the spilled tea, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it anyway. He certainly couldn’t just walk to his bedroom and change his clothes. He curled himself into a ball on the couch, weeping silently, ignoring the door when it chimed repeatedly.

His door slid open.

"Whoever you are, get the hell out!" he yelled. "Just leave me alone."

"What the hell did you say to her?!" B’Elanna said angrily, completely ignoring his words. Then she came around the couch and saw him. "Chakotay, what’s wrong?"

"How the hell do you know about it?" he asked.

"Because I just called her from the bridge to find out how you were—since you won’t give me the goddamned time of day—and she told me over the comm that you could go fuck yourself." At her words, he sobbed again. "What happened?" she asked in a much softer voice.

"I fucked up, B’Ela. Big time. I fucked everything up so bad, and I can never fix it." There was so much pain in his voice, and she wanted to reassure him, tell him everything would be okay.

"Tell me. I’m sure that’s not true. Tell me what happened and we’ll figure out how to fix it, old man. I’m an engineer, remember? Fixing things is my specialty," she said with a smile, but he continued to stare morosely at the coffee table.

"She came to me and tried to give me a pep talk, and I wasn’t listening. She broke down, B’Ela. She broke down and started crying and told me not to leave her, and then she told me she loved me. And I was confused and scared, and I asked her if she was only saying that so she could get her first officer back," he said, cringing at the memory.

"You idiot!" she snapped before she could stop herself.

"What was I supposed to think? It came out of nowhere, dammit! One minute she’s giving me the Doctor’s standard pep talk, and the next, she’s telling me… She’s never said anything like that to me, and why now?!"

"Because she watched you almost die, and it nearly killed her! Kahless, Chakotay, I’ve never seen her like that. She looked like… she kissed you. She kissed you in front of me, and the Doctor, and everyone else. If you would have talked to me instead of ignoring my damn comm messages, I would have told you all of this!"

He groaned, dropping his head into his arms again. "B’Ela, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s better that she doesn’t love me. I can’t give her anything anyway. Not like this."

"Bullshit, Chakotay. I don’t want to hear it. This isn’t the seventeenth century; she doesn’t need you to provide for her. I’m not blinded by love for you, so I can tell you a little bit of harsh truth. You’re wallowing in self-pity and pride, dammit. You don’t want to deal with the pain and the slow speed of recovery, so you’re acting like an invalid. Get your ass up, old man. You made promises to this crew, to me, to your friends and family, and I’m sure to her. And now you’re giving up on all of us. I thought you were better than that." She saw the fire in his eyes. "Good. You’re angry. Be angry at me. Get up and hit me."

"I can’t!"

"Then fight this goddamned thing until you can! I’m leaving, Chakotay. I’m going to the captain to try and plead for your sorry ass, Kahless only knows why. When you’re ready, you come find me and you knock me down for what I’ve said to you, but I don’t want to hear this invalid bullshit again," she said, punctuating her words with a few angry jabs from her fingers to his chest.

He summoned all his strength and took a swing at her, but it missed her by kilometers.

"That’s better!" she said, and she walked out on him.

With a grunt of effort, he brought his hand up and tapped his combadge. "Chakotay to the Doctor. Are you busy?"

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

B’Elanna sighed and rang the door chime again. For the third time. Still no answer. She used her engineering override to get in, knowing she was stepping seriously out of line.

"Kathryn?" she called tentatively.

"I don’t recall giving you permission to enter, Lieutenant, nor was I aware that we were on a first name basis," the captain hissed from the darkness of her bedroom. B’Elanna approached the door.

"Uh uh, Kathryn, no ranks here. Not after you told everyone on the bridge that your first officer could go fuck himself. I’m here for my friend, talking to the woman he loves, not as your chief engineer."

"He doesn’t love me."

"Yes, he does! Why do you think he’s killing himself over this, dammit? He thinks he’s failed you!"

"Then why the hell did he ask me if I told him I loved him just so I could get my first officer back?"

"Because he was scared, and he was hurting, and you gave him a hell of a shock. Kathryn, when have you ever let him be anything but your first officer?"

"That’s not true! He’s my friend. My best friend."

"Uh huh. And if he gets too friendly, you call him Commander, and shunt him right back into the little slot labeled ‘first officer.’ I’ve seen you do it! We all have! He’s afraid that’s all you need him for, that if he believes it and gets better and goes back on duty, you’ll pretend you never said it, and things will go back to the way they were before."

There was silence from the bedroom.

"Kathryn, he does love you. He loves you more than anything, and I think if he could have managed it, he’d have tossed himself out an airlock after saying what he did to you. I’ve never seen him like that. Chakotay doesn’t cry easily, and he was sobbing in a little ball on his couch. Please, don’t let this ruin things. You’ve finally admitted that you love him. He needs your help right now. Don’t abandon him. This was all just a horrible misunderstanding in a horrible situation, and there were too many strong emotions in the air. I’ve yelled at him already to get him to straighten up, and I think it worked, but I think there’s a much better incentive to get him back into fighting shape again."

Kathryn appeared at the doorway between the bedroom and the living area, and B’Elanna thought she had never seemed smaller or more vulnerable. "I’m scared, ’Lanna. What if…"

B’Elanna laughed. "Love’s a scary thing, Kathryn. Especially with the men on this ship. But if all you can think about are the ‘what ifs’ you’ll never know the certainties. And believe me; they’re worth it. Talk to him. Even if, for some ridiculous reason, you decide against a relationship, don’t let it end this way. He needs you. And you need him."

She left without saying another word, only nodding at Kathryn, who leaned heavily on the doorjamb for a moment. She took several deep breaths, and went back into her bathroom. She would go to him, but she wouldn’t go looking like she’d been hit by a shuttlecraft. She took a few moments to make herself look human again, if not exactly presentable, and then made her way to his quarters.

She rang his door several times, but there was no response. She was about to call his combadge when she realized that he might be asleep. As much as she wanted to clear all this up, he was weak and tired, and he needed his rest.

"Computer, locate Commander Chakotay."

"Commander Chakotay is in Sickbay."

Kathryn jumped at the words and was heading for Sickbay before she even realized it. Calm down, she tried to tell herself. If it was anything serious, the Doctor would have called you.

She strode into Sickbay a few moments later, but there was nobody in sight. Then, she heard sounds coming from the small lab off to the side, where she knew Chakotay had been doing his therapy. She crept up to the doorway but stayed out of sight.

"One more, Commander."

She heard Chakotay take a deep breath and then give a strained groan that turned into a cry of pain. She wanted to scream at the Doctor to stop torturing him, but she knew he wasn’t, that it was necessary, whatever was going on.

"Good. Excellent," came the Doctor’s soothing tone. "Now rest for a moment."

"No," Chakotay grated out, between harsh pants. "Again," he ordered.

"Chakotay, I’m very glad that you are finally enthusiastic about your rehabilitation, but you have to take it slowly. If you overexert yourself, you will do much more harm than good. Rest for a few minutes." Chakotay must have nodded or given some other silent sign of acquiescence, because the Doctor went on. "I’m curious, Commander. What brought on this sudden surge of effort?"

"B’Ela knocked some sense into me," Chakotay said, and Kathryn could hear the grin, even through his pain.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"I thought perhaps… I had heard that the captain visited you… but that’s none of my business."

Chakotay sighed. "She did. It… didn’t go very well. Doctor, will you tell me something?"

"As long as you’re not asking me to break—"

"No, no, nothing like that. I just… will you tell me how Kath—the captain reacted when I was… ill? Down there, on that planet? B’Ela told me some, but I know that if you tell me, it won’t be as biased."

Kathryn closed her eyes and had a brief war with herself. This was a private conversation, and she had no right to listen in, but she desperately needed to hear Chakotay’s reactions to the Doctor’s words, if she could. Her heart won out over her sense of morals, and she pressed herself closer to the wall.

"I’ll try. What did Lieutenant Torres tell you?"

"She told me that the captain kissed me."

"She did." Kathryn heard Chakotay’s tearful sigh, and she wanted to rush in and kiss him again, just to make it all go away. "When you first collapsed, the captain was very worried, and it escalated as time passed and your condition worsened. You were hallucinating and raving, I believe I’ve told you that. It was very hard for her to watch you. She had… a negative reaction to something that you said."

"I thought you said I wasn’t making any sense."

"Well, no, not to her. But you did say her name, and then you said something—in your native language, which I translated to her—about a boat and a monkey, I believe."

Chakotay gasped and said mournfully, "Oh, Kathryn… I’m sorry. I never meant…"

The Doctor was even more intrigued now. "What…"

"It’s private, Doctor. You said she had a negative reaction."

"She jumped up, even though she was exhausted, and went back to help the escape effort. She worked until she literally dropped. I practically had to carry her back to the rest area. By that time, you were completely unconscious, and convulsing almost constantly. She whispered in your ear for several minutes, and then she jumped up. She looked angry, but she was too weak from fatigue, and she fell back down. She kissed you. And then, she laid her head on your chest and she wept. It was as if you two were the only ones in the universe," he said thoughtfully.

Kathryn was very still, as the awful memories rolled over her. She bit back her tears, knowing if she started crying, she wouldn’t be able to stop, and they would discover her.

"Shortly after that, the crew broke through the rock, and we beamed you up. She dragged herself up again and kept going. I’ve heard that she worked for another hour, clearing everyone out, but that she didn’t speak the whole time, and that her eyes were haunted, focused on something else. She came back to Voyager so exhausted that she passed out in Sickbay."

Chakotay cleared his throat, and she could hear the tears in it. "Right. Thank you, Doctor. Back to work."

"Commander, you worked all day today, and you’ve been working extremely hard for the past hour. I think it’s time you quit for the day."

"No. Not yet."

"Do I have to make that an order?"

"Doctor, I owe the captain an apology. A big one. And I’m not going to be able to give it to her until I can march into her ready room and do it standing straight before her. So I need to get back to work here."

"Chakotay, I’m sure she’ll accept your apology whether you’re flat on your back or doing handsprings."

"I need to do this for me, Doctor. Please," he begged.

The hologram sighed. "One more set. Can you roll to your right yet?"

Kathryn heard Chakotay strain to follow the Doctor’s instructions and then sigh in defeat. She couldn’t listen to him struggle, not like that. Besides, she had something to plan, and she didn’t have very long.

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

Kathryn let herself into Chakotay’s quarters, looking around as she’d been too busy to do earlier. There had been some slight remodeling, but nothing major, and everything could be removed easily when Chakotay didn’t need it anymore. Mostly there were rails. Rails everywhere. On all the walls, and freestanding across the living area. He could walk, but only for short distances, and not without support.

She sighed at the mess. Chakotay was normally neater than anyone she had ever met—she remembered that from their stay on New Earth—but she imagined routine cleaning was a lot more difficult when it took all one’s strength to feed oneself. She quickly straightened up, feeling tears come when she saw the empty mug and tea stain on the floor in front of the couch.

She debated for a moment venturing into his bedroom to tidy up in there, but decided that would be a bit too personal, possibly a breach of privacy, and that was not what she wanted. She confined her efforts to the main living area.

Using her rations, she programmed a meal into the replicator, after checking the Doctor’s report to ensure that everything she chose would be okay for Chakotay to consume in his weakened state. She set the table and made sure everything looked presentable. Then, she sat on the couch and waited.

After a little while, there was the telltale sound of a transport in his bedroom. That was what she had been waiting for. She and B’Elanna and the Doctor had worked things out and had decided that the energy expended by allowing Chakotay to stay in his quarters and beam to Sickbay for his therapy until he could make it there under his own power was actually less than the energy and resources needed to replicate, build, and maintain an antigrav chair for him. The Doctor had reported that Chakotay was grateful, not wanting to be seen in a chair.

She heard voices, as the Doctor helped him into the bathroom to bathe and then made sure he was okay getting dressed afterwards. She heard the resigned exasperation in her first officer’s voice and smiled wryly. Chakotay hated depending on anyone for anything, and it was a great test of his pride that he had to accept help getting dressed.

She stood quickly as she heard the Doctor approach the door of the bedroom, calling over his shoulder, "You need to eat, Commander. I’ll program something into the replicator for you."

"Fine!" Chakotay growled.

The hologram came through the door and stopped short at the sight before him. Before he could say anything, Kathryn placed a finger on her lips and motioned him closer.

"Thank you, Doctor. I’ll take it from here," she whispered.

"But Captain—"

"I promise you; I’ll call for help if things go wrong, but I owe Chakotay an apology, and I’d like to give it to him. Please, Doctor."

The Doctor smiled, as if at a private joke, and Kathryn knew that he was remembering Chakotay telling him he owed her an apology. "Very well, Captain. But you should know that he’s extremely tired, he’s not in a very good mood… and what are you planning to feed him?"

"I promise, Doctor, it’s all taken care of. I’ll take good care of your patient. Please go," she said, and he sighed, nodded grudgingly, and left quietly. She heard Chakotay begin to struggle from his bedroom to the living area, breathing hard the whole time. He slowly emerged, leaning heavily on the rail and concentrating on his feet.

"Doctor," he said eventually, and when he didn’t receive a response, he looked up. What he saw made him lose his concentration, and he nearly fell. Kathryn was beside him instantly, but she didn’t touch him. She just offered her support.

"Kathryn!"

"Are you okay?"

"I’m fine, just surprised. What are you doing here?" he asked, with wonder in his voice.

"Here, lean on me, and we’ll get you to the table." Too tired to argue, he followed her order, and they made slow progress across the room to the table. By the time they reached it, her shoulder was aching from his grasp, and her knees were trembling from his weight. She could only imagine how he felt. He dropped heavily into a chair, and she crossed to the replicator.

"What are you doing here?" he asked again.

She sighed as she brought a tray of food to the table. "I’m here because I owe you an apology. I’m very sorry, Chakotay. I should not have said what I did to you. It was very unfair of me to throw all of that at you at once, when you have much more important concerns. But I am here as your friend, Chakotay, and I hope that you’ll let me help you with your rehabilitation. I know that you can do it, but you shouldn’t have to do it alone."

He was looking down into his lap. "You’re apologizing?! Gods, Kathryn, you can’t… I… I’m so sorry," he whispered. "So sorry. What I said to you, what I accused you of, it’s unforgivable. I know that you would never use my… feelings for you to manipulate me, but I was tired and depressed, and hurting… and scared. I’m so sorry," he said again, and she could see his shoulders shaking slightly.

She reached out and tilted his chin up, so that she could see into his eyes. He was crying, and there was so much sorrow in his countenance.

"Chakotay," she asked softly, "Do you love me?"

"Yes!" he said vehemently. "Gods yes, more than anything, more than life, Kathryn. When I saw how I’d hurt you with what I said… Spirits, if I could have spaced myself, I think I would have then. I’m so sorry."

She came around the table to him and took him in her arms. He briefly returned the embrace but he was too tired, and his arms fell away.

"If you love me, then it doesn’t matter. We’ll get through this together," she said firmly.

"Kathryn, I—"

"Eat," she ordered. "We’ll talk after you eat." She smiled. "Don’t worry, everything there has been approved by the Doctor."

"Damn," he muttered, but with a ghost of a smile, and she felt tears threaten again. She’d missed his smile so much. He stared at the bowl of vegetable soup for a moment and then looked back up at her. "Are you sure you want to watch this? It’s not a pretty sight, Kathryn."

She sighed. "Chakotay, you’re going to have to get over your pride. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re temporarily out of commission as a shuttle pilot, or if you need help to walk across a room, or even if you can feed yourself without making a mess. I’m going to be here, and I plan to be here through it all. So get used to it."

He nodded, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes. He clumsily picked up the spoon and tried to eat. She watched, trying not to cringe as he spilled soup everywhere; it hurt her to watch a man so naturally graceful struggle with such a mundane task. After a few moments, she took the spoon from him, loaded it with soup, and held it to his lips. He refused to open his mouth, and when he looked at her, his eyes were hard and proud. She let out her breath and dropped the spoon back in the bowl.

"I can feed myself, Kathryn."

"I know you can. I’m not patronizing you. But you’re exhausted, Chakotay. I can see that, and I know you’ve worked harder today than you normally do. Let me help you, please. You don’t have to do everything alone. Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me that?" He closed his eyes and nodded, but she could practically feel his spirit breaking. She realized she was pushing very hard, perhaps too hard. "I’m sorry. I’m pushing. Would you rather I left? Do you want me to go, and then you can call me later so that we can talk?"

His hand lurched out to cover hers. "No! No, don’t go, please. It’s just… I… this is so goddamned hard, Kathryn. I hate this. I hate not being able to do anything! Look at us! I admit that I fantasized about us sitting this close, you feeding me dinner, but doing it because it’s romantic, not because I can’t lift my own damn spoon!"

"Chakotay, just being here with you is romantic for me. I meant it when I said that I don’t care what you can do. I love you. I want to take care of you—and believe me, that’s saying a lot! I couldn’t even stand to be around Mark when he had a cold! Let me help you, please. Let me do whatever you feel comfortable with me doing. I don’t want to break your spirit, Chakotay, but I want to help. I’m sorry if I’m pushing."

He took a deep breath. "Feed me," he said, and opened his mouth wide. Kathryn laughed, and when she did, he smiled, the first big, dimpled smile she’d seen from him since before his illness, and she couldn’t help herself. She kissed him. He grunted, surprised, and then kissed her back, a soft, feathery touch of his lips to hers. She ran her tongue along his lips, and he groaned, parting them slightly. Her tongue stole in, playing along his teeth and his palate and finding his. They sparred for a few seconds, and she was saddened to realize that even his tongue was tired and weak. She continued the kiss, learning the contours of his mouth, until she felt his hand pushing weakly at her, and she broke it.

Chakotay rested his forehead on her shoulder, panting slightly. "You stole my breath away, woman," he said eventually, and she chuckled.

"Sorry," she said, picking up the spoon. She proceeded to feed him, teasing him the whole time. When soup splashed on the corner of his mouth, she leaned forward and licked it off, smiling wickedly at his indrawn breath. She took a piece of melon and bit into it, letting the juice run down her chin. She held it to his mouth, letting his lips take it from hers and moaning softly when his tongue flicked out to catch the drops of juice. The games continued until all the food was gone, at which point she smiled up into his darkened eyes.

"I stand corrected," he said softly. "That was the most romantic and sensual dinner I’ve had in a very long time. Thank you, Kathryn."

"Glad to be of service," she laughed.

He shifted in his chair, trying to be subtle about it. She’d noticed him doing it several times, more and more frequently towards the end of his meal.

"Are you okay, Chakotay?"

"Just a little uncomfortable. It’s hard for me to sit in this position for a long time. It gets hard for me to breathe. It normally doesn’t take me this long to eat, even if I can’t feed myself that well…" She laughed, and he added, "Not that I minded!"

"Do you want to try and move to the couch? Or would you be more comfortable in your bed? You must be tired; you’ve worked very hard today."

"The couch," he said quickly. "I don’t want you to leave yet."

"What makes you think I’m leaving?" she asked archly, and he stared at her. "Come on, let’s get you to the couch. Then you can do something for me."

He snorted in disbelief. "What can I possibly do for you?"

"Couch first," she said, standing. He braced himself on the table and rose, eventually transferring most of his weight to her shoulder. She tried not to grunt with the strain as she helped him to the couch, not wanting him to feel bad about leaning on her. Finally, she was sitting with her feet up on the coffee table, and he was lying with his head in her lap, trying to regain his breath.

"Are you comfortable?" she asked, stroking his tattoo with her fingertips.

He smiled tiredly. "I’ve never been more comfortable in my life."

"Good. Will you do something for me?"

"My Kathryn, anything I can possibly do, I will do for you. Always. I just wish there was more I could do right now," he muttered darkly, but she ignored it.

"Will you tell me a story?" she asked, and he regarded her curiously. "I’ve missed your stories."

"Certainly. What story would you like to hear?"

"Anything you’d like to tell. But… will you tell me in your own language? The language of your fathers?" When he didn’t respond, she looked to see him staring at her with wide eyes. "I’ve always loved your native language, Chakotay. It sounds so beautiful, especially in your wonderful voice. On New Earth, when you used to sing it to the heavens—"

"You heard that?!"

"We were the only ones there, love, and you were singing quite loud," she said, grinning. He smiled widely when he heard the endearment, and she resolved to use it often, if it got her that reaction. "I used to sit and do nothing and just listen, wondering what you were singing. If we had been there longer, I would have asked you to teach it to me," she said sadly, and he could see the regret in her eyes.

"I’ll teach you now, if you’d like," he offered, almost shyly. "I would love to share my people’s language with you."

She beamed. "That would be wonderful. But first, I want a story. It was so hard, Chakotay, to listen to you down there, so sick, unable to show the great respect I know you have for the language of your people. I need to hear it, whole and strong, to know that you’re whole and well."

He sighed, briefly bringing his hand up to squeeze the fingers that stroked his brow. "I’m sorry, Kathryn. Sorry you had to hear that, sorry you had to see me like that. I’m here now, and I may not be strong yet, but I will be so again one day, for you. All right, a story, hmm? Here goes." He began to speak but stopped, frowning, when the familiar voice of the universal translator said, "I shall tell you a story…"

Kathryn chuckled. "Oops. Forgot about that. Computer, disable all translators in Commander Chakotay’s quarters until further notice."

"Acknowledged."

He began to speak again, and she closed her eyes, letting the rich tones of his voice flow over her. Though she couldn’t understand the words, she felt the love that flowed through them, and it warmed her whole body. He spoke for some time, and when he finished, she was astonished to find that there were tears on both their faces.

"That was a beautiful story," she said, wiping her cheeks. "Thank you."

He chuckled. "I know why I’m crying, but I don’t know why you are. You didn’t get a word of it." He paused. "Though it is a familiar tale."

She arched her eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Mmm, yes. It has a different ending than the one you know, though."

"It wouldn’t be an ancient legend, by any chance, would it?"

He smiled again, and it was the same sheepish smile that he had given her the first time he’d told her his legend. "It might be."

Now she was curious. "Will you tell me again? In Standard this time?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you just wanted a story."

"I did. But now I want to know the new ending!"

"You’re wheedling again."

"Please!"

Chakotay laughed. "As if I could deny you anything you asked," he murmured quietly, closing his eyes, and she felt the tears threaten again. How could she have come so close to losing him, and never have allowed herself this wholeness, this feeling of being complete? She felt the tears well and fall again, and he looked up, surprised, when one splashed onto his face.

"Hey… what’s wrong?"

"I’m so sorry. So sorry it took me so long to give in to this. God, I nearly lost you, Chakotay, and we never would have had this. It would have killed me."

He smiled wistfully. "No it wouldn’t have. You would have stayed strong, for our crew, and you would have gotten them home. You would have had a good life and you would have been happy."

"No, I—"

"Please, Kathryn. I have to think of it that way, otherwise I’ll be too…" he trailed off, and then looked up at her, and there was fierce determination in his tired eyes. "Know this, Kathryn Janeway: whatever happens to my body, my spirit will never leave you. I will always be with you, watching over you. You will never be alone."

She smiled, crying again. "Thank you, Chakotay, my love, but it’s not enough. You can’t leave me, not now. Promise me you’ll do everything you can to get strong, because it’s your body I want, as well as your spirit," she said suggestively, stroking his cheek.

He laughed weakly, raising an eyebrow. "Oh really? Okay, in that case, I promise. Now, did you want to hear the story, or can I just fall asleep in your lap, because both sound equally good to me right now," he said, and his voice was fading slowly.

"Sleep," she said, continuing the lulling, stroking motion of her fingertips. "You can tell me later. I just hope you remember," she finished in a whisper, for his eyes were already closed and he was breathing deeply. She sat and watched him sleep, thoroughly enjoying the peace she saw in his features and thinking that she’d never loved him more.

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

"Kathryn…"

She slowly woke up, aware that her neck and back muscles were screaming in protest and that she couldn’t feel her legs. None of that mattered. All that was important was the soft fingertips stroking her arm and a beloved voice quietly calling her name. She smiled inwardly but didn’t open her eyes. If she played possum, he’d say her name in that voice again, and she desperately wanted to hear that.

"Kathryn, wake up," he said, and that was followed closely by a word she didn’t understand. It was curiosity more than anything that compelled her to open her eyes.

"Hello," she said huskily into a smiling, tired face.

"Hello, my Kathryn. Thank you for the nap. It was wonderful, but you can’t be very comfortable."

"Your big head has put my legs to sleep, mister," she replied and was rewarded by a soft chuckle. "What did you just call me?" she asked, hoping he wouldn’t interpret her curiosity as disapproval.

"Afraid I’m calling you nasty names?" he asked, raising an eyebrow but still continuing to softly stroke the arm that lay gently across his chest. It was as if he didn’t want to stop touching her, afraid she would disappear.

"Something like that," she said lightly, smiling so he could be sure that wasn’t the case.

"You called me ‘love.’ I’m just returning the favor. It’s probably closer to ‘cherished one,’ though. It’s what my father called my mother. I’ve always thought it a beautiful word, and until I met you, I longed for a woman I could love enough to use it. After I met you, Kathryn, I longed for the day when I could call you that outside of my dreams." She was crying again, and he chuckled as a couple of tears landed on his cheeks. "Hey, none of that, you’re going to drown me here."

She laughed, reaching up with her free hand to wipe her cheeks, and his. "Sorry. Definitely wouldn’t want that. Is there something you want me to call you, Chakotay? An endearment in your own tongue? Something you want me to try and call you?" she amended with a grimace, thinking of the damage that she could probably manage to inflict on the beauty of his language.

He laughed again but quickly grew sober. "I think… I think I would like it if you called me ‘love,’ Kathryn. Not because there aren’t many things I would like for you to call me, both in Standard and in the language of my people, but just because no one’s ever called me that before," he said, smiling shyly.

"Okay, love," she said, and he chuckled. "Let’s get you to bed."

"I don’t want you to go," he said mournfully.

"Is your bed big enough for two?" she asked quietly, and he stared at her. "I’m serious, Chakotay. I would love to share your bed with you, but I won’t do so if it will hinder your recovery. If that’s the case, I’ll sleep here on the couch. Either way, consider me your new live-in nurse. I’ll be here every night and every morning until you kick me out."

His hand had tightened around her arm, as much as he could make it do so. "Never. That will never happen. Gods, Kathryn…" He sighed shakily. "I would love to hold you in my arms all night, as much as I can, anyway. It would be better than any medicine, any therapy the Doctor could prescribe me."

"Then let’s go to bed."

"It’s kind of early for you, isn’t it?"

"I haven’t been sleeping well—not that I ever do, but lately I’ve been worried about you."

She stood and helped him to his feet. They made their way into his bedroom, which she noted was even more of a disaster area than the living room had been. She aimed him at the bed, but he shook his head.

"Bathroom. It’s not that easy for me to get up in the middle of the night…" he said uncomfortably.

"Okay. How much help do you want?"

"Just get me in there. I’ll be okay."

She nodded and they finished their little trek. She went back into his bedroom and began to straighten up, hanging or folding the clothes strewn around the room. She cleaned up the top of his dresser, noting with pleasure the holoimage of her that stood atop it. She was standing, hands on hips, glaring at someone—probably Tom. It had been before she cut her hair, but after the bun, during the time she had worn it in a ponytail down her back. She didn’t remember the Doctor taking it, but he had been rather a nuisance with his holocamera at that time, and he’d been everywhere. She looked closer and noticed that while it looked like she was glaring, the corner of her mouth was turned upward, and her eyes were shining. She looked like she was about to laugh. Her hair wasn’t completely orderly either, she noticed. A few strands had escaped, curling around her head and face.

"I love that picture," Chakotay said from the doorway of the bathroom, and she jumped. "It’s the captain, consummate Captain Janeway, and yet, I can see my Kathryn underneath, ready to come out and play," he said with a grin, and she could hear the love in his voice. "I stole it from the Doctor’s database," he said, and she gasped.

"Chakotay!"

"When I saw it, I had to have it. I hope you’re not angry," he said nervously.

She grinned. "You haven’t seen the one I’ve got on my dresser."

He looked intrigued. "What is it?"

"Uh uh, you’ll have to wait," she laughed, as she helped him to the bed. "Incentive, love."

Chakotay sat on the edge of the bed and tugged her to him until she stood between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her stomach. "I haven’t thanked you, Kathryn, for cleaning up for me, out there and in here. It’s been bothering me, but I just haven’t had the energy…"

"That’s what I’m here for," she murmured, lovingly stroking the raven locks she adored. "Now, what do you wear to bed?"

"Noth—oh. Boxers," he amended hastily.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you sleep naked?"

"Normally," he said, and the tips of his ears flushed.

"Will it be more comfortable for you to sleep naked or in boxers? Is it going to torture you to sleep naked beside me if we can’t do anything?"

"Gods, yes! But I think I can handle it."

"You rest here for a few minutes. I’m going to go back to my quarters to get a few things, and then I’ll be back, okay?"

He nodded, and she left him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She quickly cleaned up his dishes and went to her quarters, where she grabbed pajamas and a uniform and undergarments for the next day and quickly put together a bag of toiletries. She’d have to come back tomorrow and pack seriously if she planned to stay with him until he recovered, but for now, she only took what she needed.

She headed back to his quarters, overnight bag in hand, and entered her override. She ignored—with difficulty—the double take of a passing crewman, only allowing herself to smile when she was safely in Chakotay’s quarters. Let them think what they want. It will make it easier later on.

She found him still sitting on the edge of the bed, stifling a curse as he tried to pull his t-shirt over his head.

"Hey, hey. None of that, Mister," she said, gently brushing his hands out the way with hers. "Don’t get frustrated, love. Let me help you," she murmured, but he sighed and put his hand over hers.

"Don’t, Kathryn. Let me do it," he said softly.

She saw in his eyes his need to do it for himself, and she nodded and kissed his cheek. Turning her back on him, she busied herself with neatly hanging her uniform up in his closet, trying to ignore his grunts of effort. Suddenly the room went dark, and she was enveloped by a cloud of his scent. She could hear him laughing behind her.

She reached up and removed his t-shirt from where it draped over her, shaking her head as she turned to see him flopped full length across the covers.

"Nice throw, Mister," she said archly, and he inclined his head with a grin.

"Thank you, Captain," he said brightly, watching as she hugged the shirt to her and then raised it to her face, breathing in his scent. "What are you doing, Kathryn?" he asked with a puzzled grin.

"Smells good. Smells like you. Do you have any idea how good you smell, Chakotay? God, I don’t know what scent you wear, but don’t ever stop. I love it! It’s been driving me crazy for years."

"Me?! What about you?! Just that little whiff of jasmine or whatever it is. Gods! I’ve had to run away to my office some mornings just to keep from leaning over and burying my nose in your neck!"

Kathryn laughed, kissing the top of his head. He struggled to get himself under the covers, and she left him for a moment to go into the bathroom so she could change and prepare for bed. She’d chosen a fairly modest pair of pajamas, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward for her or difficult for Chakotay.

By the time she came out of the bathroom, he had turned the lights down. Peering through the starlight, she saw that he was curled on his side, eyes closed, breathing deeply. He was right in the middle of the bed, and she smiled softly at the peaceful image. She grabbed a pillow from his bed and a blanket from his chair and crept toward the door, heading for the couch.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

His voice sounded from behind her and she jumped.

"God, Chakotay, don’t do that! I thought you were asleep. I was going to sleep on the couch instead of waking you up."

"Here I am, waiting patiently, and you’re just ready to leave me all alone…" he said petulantly, and she laughed. He threw back the covers and patted the sheets next to him. "Come here."

She climbed into the bed, and he wrapped his arms loosely around her, burying his nose in her neck as he’d earlier said he wanted to. She sighed and embraced him back, bringing her arms up to his chest to rest them on the warm, bare flesh. He groaned.

"You’re still in your boxers," she noted.

"Mmm. Light armor. I thought it a necessary precaution against being overwhelmed by your nearness," he said, and then added, "I guess it’s not helping much. Sorry."

She snuggled into him more closely, suddenly understanding what he was talking about. She chuckled. "Don’t be sorry. I’m flattered. I'd show you how flattered, but that will have to wait until you're much stronger," she said with a laugh, and he groaned. "Go to sleep, love," she added. "Good night. I love you."

"And I love you, my Kathryn. But I can’t go to sleep quite yet. If I remember correctly, I owe you a story."

"You can tell me tomorrow. You need to sleep. Go to bed!"

"I shall tell you a story," he continued doggedly, and she shook her head and laid it on his chest, listening.

"It’s an ancient legend among my people, about an angry warrior who lived his life in conflict with the rest of his tribe, a man who couldn't find peace even with the help of his spirit guide.

"For years he struggled with his discontent, but the only satisfaction he ever got came when he was in battle. This made him a hero among his tribe, but the warrior still longed for peace within himself.

"One day he and his war party were captured by a neighboring tribe, led by a woman warrior. She called on him to join her, because her tribe was too small and weak to defend itself from all its enemies. The woman warrior was brave, and beautiful, and very wise.

"The angry warrior swore to himself that he would stay by her side, doing whatever he could to make her burden lighter. From that point on her needs would come first. And in that way, the warrior began to know the true meaning of peace. He didn't realize for a long time that what he was feeling was love—because he had never known love before."

She raised her head and smiled at the last sentence, which had been added since she’d last heard this particular legend. He smiled wistfully back, but before she could respond, he began speaking again.

"So the two warriors led their tribe—one tribe now—toward home, journeying across vast unknown lands and defending themselves against countless enemies, and the once angry warrior was peaceful at the side of the woman he had vowed to protect. His peace was tested often, sometimes greatly, but the trials only served to strengthen the connection between the two warriors. Though he did not have her heart, he had her friendship and her trust, things she did not give easily. He was content.

"One day an evil spirit saw his contentment and vowed to take it from him, cursing the hard won happiness of the warriors and their tribe. The spirit struck the warrior down, intending to cleave him from her side forever, but he was not strong enough to break the bond between them. The warrior was left badly weakened by the spirit’s wrath, and he could no longer stand proudly at the side of the woman he loved. He grew angry again, and the peace he had searched for all his life and finally found began to slip away from him.

"The woman warrior saw the changes in her cherished friend and came to him, in friendship and in love. In his anger and confusion, he struck out at her, wounding her in spirit if not in body. When he saw what he had done, he despaired, thinking he had lost the most important thing in his life. But the wise woman warrior saw that he was hurting, and she came to him again. This time when she opened her arms to him, he put aside his fears and doubts and went to her. Though the warrior had achieved peace at her side, he felt more joy than he had thought possible in her arms.

"As she spoke the first words of love to him, the warrior renewed his vow. He would be with her always, and this time, he would let nothing stand in the way of that vow—not discord, not vengeful spirits, not even death. He would be hers, for as long as the sun rose and fell and as long as the stars shone in the heavens."

There was silence after he finished speaking, and Chakotay tried hard to see her face in the dark of the cabin, but her hair was hiding it. Suddenly, her small arms stole around his chest and hugged him so hard that he couldn’t breathe. When she spoke, her voice was muffled and her breath was warm on his chest.

"That was so beautiful, Chakotay. In both languages. Thank you. God, I love you so much! My gorgeous, poetic, angry warrior," she murmured, stroking his back with her fingertips. He tried to concentrate on her words rather than on what her touch was doing to his body.

"Not angry. Not anymore. I’m sorry, Kathryn, for the way I’ve been acting lately. I was just so scared that I would never be able to help you again—"

"Shh. It’s okay, love. I understand. Your legend has a slight error in it, though."

"It does?"

"Mm hmm. The angry warrior did have the woman warrior’s heart. Right from the beginning. She was just too stupid and scared to see it. She’s not very wise or brave after all, you see, and she’s definitely not beautiful."

"Hey, are you calling me a liar? Kathryn, you are the wisest, bravest woman I have ever known, and your beauty takes my breath away. And as for how long it’s taken for us to get to this point, I want you to know that I don’t regret a single day I’ve ever spent at your side, in whatever capacity you’ve allowed me to be there."

She hugged him again. "Thank you, Chakotay, my love. I don’t know how you can be so understanding of my stupid mistakes, but I will spend the rest of our lives making it up to you, I promise. Now go to sleep!"

He laughed as her command tone suddenly made an appearance. "Aye, Captain!"

She poked his chest with her finger. "Well, since you responded to my order so promptly, Mister, I’ve got another one for you."

"What’s that?" he asked warily.

"Commander, if you don’t report to the Doctor immediately the next time you’re bitten by an unfamiliar insect, I will kill you myself. I can’t handle going through all this again. Understood?"

He crushed her to him briefly and softly said, "Understood. I’m sorry, Kathryn."

"Don’t apologize. Just don’t do it again," she said wryly, but her voice trembled a little. "Now get some rest, Chakotay, my love. Good night."

"Good night, my Kathryn, my cherished one."