"Weeping
May Endure For A Night"
By Coral
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Without looking back, Kathryn stalked out of the mess hall.
She broke into a run as she headed towards her quarters, tears
stinging in her eyes. With each step, her breath caught in her
throat and her chest tightened. She wanted to scream and shout,
and to smash something - to vent her frustration somehow. But
that was hardly dignified for a Starfleet Captain. She would
never live it down if some junior crewman came along to find her
smashing bio-neural gelpacks against the bulkheads in a fit of
anger. She would die of embarrassment - which didn't actually
seem like such a bad idea at the moment, come to think of it.
She punched her keycode in and stormed into her quarters. The
lights immediately flared up, bathing her rooms in bright light
that did nothing to dispel the black clouds of anger gathered
around her. She fingered the bracelet on her wrist - a
subconscious, habitual gesture that she'd developed in the years
since Chakotay had made it for her on New Earth. Her fingers
counted off the carved wooden beads - twenty in total, the number
of hours in a day on New Earth. It was meant, she recalled, to
show that he would always be there for her, whatever the time of
day, whenever the day.
Forever.
She laughed, bitterly. The climax of their argument today seemed
to suggest that any hope for friendship was over, let alone
anything more. Damn him, anyway. Where did he get off,
questioning her coffee intake?
Well - it had *started* with the coffee intake. Thanks to her
quick temper, and the blazing one Chakotay himself could display
when provoked far enough, it had rapidly descended into an all
out yelling match. And in the mess hall, too. Kathryn felt her
cheeks burn with shame as she remembered Tuvok's attempts to
clear the mess hall of all the off duty crewmen as the heated
discussion between herself and Chakotay had turned nasty. She
hadn't meant for it to be public, but her world had narrowed to
just herself and Chakotay as they traded harsh words and angry
thoughts.
Her fingers tightened around the bracelet. She tried to think
clearly, but all she could focus on were the words that had
passed between them. Words that had been painful, and meant to
hurt; words that shouldn't have been said; words that cut to the
heart like a knife. How she wished for the power to recall those
words to her. But words are like butterflies; once loosed, they
are easily spread, but hard to recapture.
Her thumb and finger pressed against one of the beads, the
carving digging into her flesh and leaving an impression. The
slight pain renewed the tears in her eyes, and she felt hot tears
start to roll down her still burning cheeks. She wouldn't have
dared cry in front of Chakotay - that had been the reason for her
hasty departure from the mess hall - but here, in the privacy of
her own quarters, was a different matter.
Kathryn rarely cried; she couldn't even recall the last time she
had. Tears were foreign to her, and the thought that Chakotay
could make her feel this way - and had, apparently, made her feel
this way on purpose - angered her further. She had been no better
though, playing on feelings she knew he had, and pulling strings
that she knew would hurt him inside.
The tears continued in their course as she stood there, the
wooden bracelet that had been her source of comfort for so many
years still around her wrist, with her delicate fingers clenching
the beads that she could in her fist. Her grip tightened as she
recalled Chakotay's words of love and support on New Earth.
It tightened further and she scowled as she remembered their
disagreement over the Borg.
Her fist was clenched so hard around the bracelet as she recalled
him saying they still had plenty of time that her nails were
digging into her palm.
She thought they would draw blood as she remembered their
countless dinners, each holding a promise of more.
Then, as she recalled tonight's argument, she tore the innocent
looking bracelet from her wrist, ripping the elastic and causing
the beads that weren't in her iron grip to fall to the floor.
With a scream of fury, she hurled it across the room.
It smashed into the bulkhead and dropped to the floor, the last
few beads spilling from the elastic as it did so. Kathryn stared
at it for a moment, then sank into the chair in front of her
desk, laying her hands in her arms and sobbing, each breath a
shuddering gasp.
She sat there for sometime before the racking sobs turned into
smaller ones, closer to hiccups than anything else. The inside of
her mouth felt fuzzy from crying, and her cheeks were streaked
with tearstains. She felt dishevelled and exhausted - and
completely free of anger. Her mind was clear now; she could think
straight again.
Walking slowly, still somewhat dazed and weak, she moved over to
the corner of her quarters. At the foot of the wall, the broken
remains of the bracelet lay, beads spilt over the carpet like
blood from a wounded animal. Crouching down, Kathryn scooped the
bracelet up in her hand. She stared at the beads and the piece of
broken elastic lying limply over her fingers. She fingered them
gently, turning each one over in the palm of her hand. The
craftwork was delicate, beautiful, and she couldn't believe she'd
never taken the time to appreciate it - until she had ruined it.
Placing the ten beads she'd found carefully on the table, she
scoured her quarters for the others. With each one she picked up,
she found herself remembering a time, a moment, a word... With
each one she picked up, she found herself reflecting and thinking
back on the years... With each one she picked up, she found a
special memory to make her smile or cry...
And, when she had finished, she found that she had the broken
remains of a string of dreams and band of promises.
Tumbling exhaustedly into bed, Kathryn closed her eyes, to dream
of broken bracelets and ruined friendships.