Disclaimer: Paramount owns Voyager, the characters and the names-I own the ideas...what little there are.
The rhythmic pulse of Voyager's engines sounded
evenly throughout the room. It wasn't often, on a ship like this,
that one had the time to just stop and listen, but Chakotay had
learned, early on, that it was the little things, that gave him
the strength to continue.
It was late, and Chakotay was tired, but no matter how hard he may try, sleep would not come tonight. He had been expecting this though, knowing that tonight, not unlike others before, would be difficult to handle, and still he sat, head resting in his hands, and sighed.
"You're up late." a soft voice from the corner began.
Chakotay turned his head quickly, startled by this sound in the dark. "I couldn't sleep." he responded softly, turning his gaze back to the table.
The tall slender figure moved quietly to the chair opposite his, her white dressing gown flowing delicately around her ankles. "What are you doing?" she asked, taking a seat.
"Just thinking." he responded almost absently, "thinking..."
The young woman sat back in her chair, her legs bent beneath her. With her head, she gestured to the box on the table. "Chakotay?" she asked quietly, her whisper almost lost in the hum of the engines.
The dark haired man looked away, trying to avoid her gaze, but she held him there, her questioning eyes locked with his.
"I'm sorry." he said , his voice carrying a hint of defeat.
She cut him off, "It's been almost two years." she whispered.
"I know, I know," he began, running his hand through his short hair. "Sometimes it just..." he stumbled, shaking his head.
"Hurts too much?" she finished.
Chakotay looked up, a single tear hovering in his deep brown eyes. The dark haired woman sat forward in her chair, her hand reaching out for his. "Tell me Chakotay. It's the only way you'll ever move forward." she pleaded, gently squeezing his hand.
Chakotay shook his head. How could he even begin to explain what he was feeling. He wasn't even sure he understood it himself. How was he ever going to get past the intense pain that seemed to grip at his entire soul, making itself known at every beautiful morning sunrise, or every fresh summer breeze.
He considered for a moment, telling her of their time together, and how even the silence was comfortable when she was with him. But seeing the intense, penetrating look in this other woman's eyes, he had a feeling that she already understood.
He would never find comfort in silence again.
"I never got the chance to tell her how much I loved her." he whispered finally, looking up.
The pain he was feeling was evident, as he sat, his soul open to her. She had to fight the urge to take him in her arms, and tell him that everything was going to be alright, because she knew it wasn't. No matter how hard she tried, she could only offer him the very basics of human needs; a warm body to hold on to, a shoulder to cry on-nothing more. But for all this was tearing her apart, she would always cling to anything he gave her, and give him anything in return.
The woman seated across from him rose to her feet and held out her hand. "Let's go to bed." she whispered, offering to him, a way out. And as he reached for her hand, she quickly whipped the tears from her eyes, because she knew that no matter how much she loved him, Chakotay's heart would forever belong to his woman warrior.
Fine
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