Chapter Text
“What? No! Really?” Kathryn playfully shoved her sister with her shoulder while they made their way up to their mother’s house, laughing all the while.
“It’s true! They came in yesterday and installed it. Mom has her own miniature holodeck.”
“What on earth would she need one for?”
“Physio and exercises and stuff,” Phoebe waved her hand through the air, brushing the question off.
Kathryn grabbed her sister’s arm, stopping them from entering the house. “Is Mom okay? There’s not something you’re not telling me, is there?”
“I’m fine, Katie,” the two women jumped, their eyes shooting to where their mother was standing in the doorway. “And I want to keep it that way. Now, do either of you want a hot drink?”
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“I thought you said that you had some good programmes we could use to christen Mom’s holodeck with!” Phoebe grumbled good-naturedly at her sister.
Kathryn shrugged as she sipped her coffee.
“These are all classified, training scenarios, or your boring gothic romances.”
“Oi! They’re not all gothic, and they certainly aren’t boring.”
“Says you.” Phoebe was silent for a while as she continued to browse the items listed. “Ooo. What’s this one?”
Kathryn rolled her eyes and turned to her mother, who was watching her daughters bicker with a contented smile, having missed their interactions during the long years that had separated them. Kathryn didn’t get to say whatever was on her mind as Gretchen’s shocked face caused her to turn around, curious as to what programme Phoebe had activated.
Her heart stopped.
“Momma! Momma, you back!”
The toddler ran across the newly converted room as fast as her small legs could carry her and flung herself at Kathryn.
Crouching down, Kathryn caught the girl and held her close, patting her dark curls and breathing her in.
Above her, she heard the strangled voice of her own mother. “Katie, what is this?”
Her throat constricted with tears, Kathryn couldn’t respond. It had been years since she had last seen her little girl. She kissed the crown of Tara’s head fiercely as she stood, bringing the child with her.
Tara wiggled and leaned back, looking at Kathryn with bright eyes. “Momma stay? Momma, no go way?” The toddler looked around the room and then frowned, “Where Daddy? Daddy work? Tara want Daddy.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” Giving Tara one last gentle squeeze, Kathryn placed her back down on her feet. Swallowing heavily, she stepped back and said, “Computer, close programme.” She closed her eyes tight, unwilling to see Tara shimmer out of existence.
Kathryn felt Gretchen’s hand rest on her shoulder. She didn’t have the energy to shrug it away.
“Katie, who was that? Please, talk to me.”
Kathryn shook her head and moved away, not stopping until she was out of the room and out of the house, Tara’s voice echoing in her ears.
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Phoebe and Gretchen looked at each other in shock.
“Help me sit down,” Gretchen asked.
Phoebe moved forward, bringing a chair with her and assisted her mother as Gretchen sat.
“Thank you, that’s a good girl.”
“Mom, what was that?”
“I don’t know.”
Phoebe kneeled next to her mother, the strongest person she knew. She’d been through so much, and seeing Gretchen need to sit down after what they’d witnessed concerned her more than she could say.
“Are you okay?”
Gretchen patted her daughter’s hand. “I’m fine, dear. Just a little shocked, I suppose.”
Phoebe looked over at the now empty space where the small child had materialised. There was something about the girl, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Do you think Kathryn had a kid out there?”
Gretchen looked at her in confusion.
Phoebe waved at the empty space. “I mean, do you think she had a baby and then lost her? Do you think that’s what the hologram is?” Phoebe’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Her daughter?”
The horror on Gretchen’s face sent a surge of guilt and regret through Phoebe. She shouldn’t have said anything. She was never very good at keeping her mouth shut.
“Why on Earth would you think that? If she had a daughter, she would have told us!”
Phoebe felt an old anger flare up inside of her. “She doesn’t tell us a lot of things! We both know that. And most of the time, it’s Starfleet’s fault. It’s classified–” she bit back the swearword she knew her mother wouldn’t approve of. “They probably don’t want anyone to know that their golden girl actually had a life out there, something that wasn’t about the damn ship. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was some stupid mission Command gave her that cost her her kid. Hasn’t Starfleet taken enough from us? From her? And yet she keeps going back!”
Phoebe was ready to rush out the door and go home when Gretchen shot out her hand and grabbed her daughter’s arm with surprising strength. “If all that is true, and I’m not saying I believe it is, then why would Katie have a hologram of her?” The old woman shook her head. “Phoebe, my girl, you have to find a way to accept that your sister loves Starfleet, just like your father did. I know it’s hard being the ones left behind, but we have a duty here just as much as they do up there in the stars.”
Phoebe felt her anger deflate. She lowered herself back to the floor and leaned against her mother’s chair, allowing herself to be comforted by the way the older woman ran soothing fingers through her hair. “Maybe she needed to say goodbye? Wouldn’t you have liked one to say goodbye to when we thought we’d never see Kathryn again?”
They sat together for a while before silently rising and going about their regular morning tasks. By the end of the day, when dinner was ready and there was still no sign of Kathryn, Gretchen turned to her younger daughter. “I’m going to call that first officer of Katie’s. Maybe he knows what this programme is about, and if you’re right,” she pointed her finger at Phoebe, indicating that she still wasn’t entirely convinced, “what we’re allowed to say to your sister.”
Gretchen ambled over to the computer and requested contact with Commander Chakotay. To her relief, he answered immediately.
“Forgive me for calling at supper-time, Commander.”
“It’s no problem. What can I help you with?”
“It’s about Katie.”
“Is she okay?” From the dining table, Phoebe could hear the worry that seeped into the Commander’s voice.
“We don’t know. We found this holodeck programme of a little girl–”
Gretchen was cut off by Phoebe, who had moved to join her. “The kid called herself ‘Tara,’ I think.”
Gretchen resumed. “Katie shut down the programme and left. She hasn’t come back, and that was hours ago.”
Before Gretchen could ask if any of it was classified or if there were certain protocols they had to follow, Chakotay was telling them that he’d be right over and ending the call.
The two women looked at each other in surprise.
It wasn’t long before they heard the sounds of a man’s footsteps ascending the stairs outside. Gretchen and Phoebe rushed to the front door. Chakotay stood in front of them on the porch in civilian clothes, and his brow furrowed with worry.
Phoebe gasped as she took his form in. Now she knew why the hologram seemed familiar; the child it represented was obviously his.
Before either of the women could speak, Chakotay said, “I didn’t realise she kept the programme. I’m sorry for any worry it’s caused you both. Do you have any idea where she might be? Would she still be on the property?”
“She might be by her tree,” Phoebe suggested, pointing, “It’s out–”
“Thank you, I’ll find it.”
The women watched as he spun on his heel and descended the stairs.
Gretchen wrapped her arm around Phoebe’s shoulders and directed her back inside. “Come on,” she said, “Let’s make a salad to go with dinner. We’ll eat when he brings her back home.”
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Chakotay wandered in the direction Kathryn’s sister had pointed, his mind disconnected from his steps as his thoughts spun away from him. It had been months since debriefings had ended. He and Kathryn had remained in regular contact, but he missed being by her side day after day. At first, the realisation had surprised him. It was common knowledge that the end of their journey had been hard on him and his relationship with her. But the more he’d reflected on it, the more it made sense to him, and he wondered how he could have ever forgotten the way his soul was tied to hers.
The former Maquis captain pushed his hand into his pocket as he walked, his fingers brushed against a thin piece of paper. He paused, drawing it out of his pocket. It was an old photograph he’d replicated years ago. Its edges were worn down and creased from fingertips running along the sides of the photo. When Gretchen had called him, he’d only stopped long enough to retrieve it from his medicine bundle.
As he looked down at the small photograph, Chakotay’s lips twitched, almost breaking into a smile. The young face that gazed up at him had brought him peace and joy but also an aching pain of want and loss. As he considered Tara’s face, he understood why Kathryn had kept the programme. They had both needed to keep a connection to her in some way.
Pushing the photograph back into his pocket, he continued on. He climbed the rise to the tree and, from its shade, looked out over the trees and farmland. In the distance, he could see a herd of cows enjoying clover and sweet grass in the sun. His eyes continued to sweep the landscape, taking in the young maise that filled the fields to his right and the drones that hovered over them, attending to their health.
Chakotay was so lost in the view and his thoughts of Earth that he didn’t hear her muffled footsteps.
“Chakotay?”
He turned around. Though older than the day that he had met her, she was just as beautiful. It was obvious that she had been upset, her cheeks were pink over her face’s ashen pallor, and her eyes were still a little puffy.
“Kathryn,” he said quietly, wondering when he had lost the right to pull her into a hug.
“What are you doing here?”
“Your family was worried. They haven’t seen or heard from you since this morning.”
“I couldn’t bear to hear their questions.”
“I understand.” He turned around and gestured to the base of the tree. “Come. Sit.”
Once they had made themselves comfortable, he pulled out the picture of Tara from his pocket and handed it to her silently.
“What’s– Oh. Chakotay.” She turned to look at him, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.
“I understand why you kept the programme. Do you want to talk about it?”
Kathryn handed back the picture. “No. Maybe?” She let out a sigh and pulled her knees toward her chest. “I don’t know. It was years ago. Honestly, I haven’t really thought about her for a while. Too many things came up and crowded my mind, got in the way. Maybe I never worked through it properly. But when Phoebe activated her, and I saw Tara again, all those old emotions came running back.”
She plucked at the grass near her feet before she continued. “I know I’m not going to have any kids, the chance is gone, and I thought I’d worked through that. And to be honest, I think I really have. But seeing her again made me realise how real she was to me. We only had her for a short time. Barely a blink of an eye, but Chakotay, I loved her.”
Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. She didn’t cry, her eyes already run dry, but she buried her head into his chest and took the comfort that he offered. They sat there together for a long time, not speaking, but allowing their hearts to begin healing after neglecting the wound for so long. Even now, he was her strength, as she was his peace.
The sun had begun to set by the time they rose, each groaning and joking about stiff legs and sore backs. The house was in view when Chakotay stretched out a hand and stopped her.
“What is it?”
“There’s something I haven’t told you.”
Kathryn felt her heart rate increase. A spike of panic rushed through her.
“It’s nothing bad. I just thought you should be the first to know. I want you to be the first to know.”
“What? Chakotay, tell me!”
“I’m going to adopt.”
Kathryn stared at him in shock. “What?” That was not what she had expected at all.
“I meet with the agency next week. It’s just an interest meeting. You know, finding out who I am, what I know about the process, what type of adoption would be the best fit. That sort of thing.”
“How, how long?”
Chakotay shrugged. “It depends. We’ll be discussing that at the meeting as well. Different plans, different paths take different amounts of time, but the woman I spoke to said they usually average twelve to eighteen months from the first home study until placement. Sometimes it’s longer; sometimes it’s shorter, it really depends,” he repeated.
Kathryn nodded, feeling numb. This time next year, he might have a son or daughter, and she would probably still be alone.
“Kathryn?”
She shook her head, trying to clear it. Spotting her mother’s rose garden, she pulled Chakotay over to the bench she knew was nestled in between the flowers.
“I’m sorry, it’s just a lot.” Even after all these years, he surprised her with his heart for others, his tenderness and selfless care. A thought rose unbidden in her mind. She pulled back from him and eyed him. “I’m not saying that this isn’t a good idea, that I’m not happy for you, but isn’t it a little too soon after your relationship with Seven?”
Chakotay frowned. That obviously wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. What had Seven to do with it?
“This isn’t just you looking for someone to care for, is it? You are allowed to care for yourself, you know. Your worth isn’t centred around whether or not you’ve got someone to look after.”
He gave her a wry grin. “Worried I can’t get by on my own?”
“No! Of course not. You’re a very capable man. But, Chakotay, you’ve always had someone to take care of. Your sister and grandfather when you were a kid. Other cadets at the academy. Your subordinates and fellow officers in Starfleet. The Maquis. Everyone on Voyager. Seven.”
“You?” Chakotay added softly.
“Me,” she echoed, dipping her head.
She paused, gathering her thoughts back together. “But that’s my point. Now that we’re back and you’ve been cleared, and we’re required to take the months of shore leave we’ve all accumulated, you don’t have anyone to take care of. There’s no one who is reliant on you day after day. I’m just worried you’re trying to fill that hole. You’d talked about going back home and helping with rebuilding efforts or volunteering or– There’s been a whole list of things. I’m just concerned that this is another thing on that list where you’re trying to find something that makes you feel like you’re needed, that you have a purpose. It’s not a kid’s job to do that.”
She grabbed his hands tightly. “Chakotay, listen to me, please. If there’s nothing else you hear, hear this. You are important. You do have a purpose. I know I didn’t tell you often enough how much I relied on you, how much your support and friendship meant to me, how much I…” She shook her head and cleared her throat. “But, Chakotay, you are enough right here, right now.”
Chakotay gave her a soft smile. He pulled one of his hands free from hers and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Kathryn, I know being with Seven wasn’t my finest hour. I don’t regret agreeing to help her out. I’d been feeling lost. I was pulling away from everything, struggling to know my place, feeling like I wasn’t wanted or needed. When she approached me and asked for help with her dating and social skills, I saw it as a way to find myself. Maybe I let it go too far, but it worked; I started to find myself again. I feel bad for using her in that way, though she used me as an experiment, so perhaps we’re even. And maybe you’re right, maybe I am looking for someone to care for, to love, to see flourish. But, Kathryn, I’m not trying to replace Seven or you. This is different.”
He frowned and diverged from his topic, “And, I want you to know, Seven was never, never, some sort of replacement for you. No one could ever replace you in my life. Okay?”
Kathryn felt her heart thump in her chest, and a weight she didn’t know was carrying fall from her shoulders. “Okay,” she whispered back.
“Good. Now, I’m not trying to replace anyone, you, Seven, Tara, no one, by adopting. This is something I’ve wanted for a very long time. You know that. And now I’m finally in a place I can do it.”
Kathryn nodded. She rose from her seat, and when he had done the same, she slipped her hand into his. He looked at her in surprise. She smiled and said, “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll make a very good father.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
Kathryn’s foot was on the first step up to the house when he stopped her a second time. She turned and looked at him, a question glimmering in her eyes.
“Kathryn, I’m about to ask you a question. You don’t have to answer me right away, and I will gladly accept however you choose to answer. I would like nothing more than for you to be involved in my child’s life, in whatever way you think best. But Kathryn, do you want to go with me to the meeting next week?”
For the third time that day, Kathryn was in shock. More than the reappearance of Tara, more than the bombshell that Chakotay was going to adopt, this one threatened to knock her off her feet.
He looked up at her expectantly from the gravel path while she stood on the worn wooden steps that led up to her childhood home. When she finally found her voice, it was rough with emotion. “As what? Your support person? Family friend? Your–” Her voice broke, and she was barely able to get out the words she wanted to say. “Your partner?”
He seemed as surprised to hear the words as she had been to say them. “Is that what you want?”
She looked at him, her best and dearest friend, the man who meant everything to her. Her mind went through the old litany of why she should say no, why they couldn’t have this, why it would never work, but for the first time, she was able to confront those fears, half-truths, and outright lies she’d been telling herself for years.
Her lip and chin quivered.
She nodded.
The smile that lit up his face was enough to blast away any lingering doubts as to what she had just agreed to. Her mouth began to curve up into a smile of its own. Suddenly she had the strength to answer him aloud.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes.”
He pulled her off the step she was standing on and spun her around in a fierce hug. She finally believed it – giving in wasn’t always wrong. Sometimes, like right here, right now, it is oh so right.
Their laughter floated up to the sky, where the first stars were just beginning to shine their sparkling silver light. Their journey was far from over. In fact, it was just beginning.