Work Text:
Well, I certainly fucked *that* up.
Janeway paced her living room. What had the Apollo 13 mission been called? 'A successful failure?' The words seemed perfect to describe their slipstream flight. They may have shaved 10 years off their journey but the technology was now useless and it it still left them decades from home. What cut to the bone, though, was realizing that her near-maniacal drive to get them back to Earth had almost gotten them all killed.
If it had worked, on the other hand, it would have paid off spectacularly: Her charges would’ve been reunited with their families, she would’ve been reunited with hers…
And never again would she and Chakotay have found themselves in each others’ chains of command. Years of pining, waiting, delaying and debating finally would’ve been over.
All of that anticipation had led them to her quarters on the night before the flight. Their candlelit dinner had been chaste. Their dessert, not so much. They’d crossed so many lines, all because they’d thought they were about to make it home. How stupid could she have been, she wondered, jumping the gun like that? Now they were going to have to define parameters again, and if Chakotay tried to pull out another ancient legend, she thought she might just…
Nevermind.
This was Chakotay she was dealing with, she reminded herself, which meant that he was wonderful and thoughtful and forgiving, and they would figure it out. But it was going to be awful and awkward and uncomfortable until they did.
“Whiskey. Middleton Rare,” she called out to the replicator, watching the computer materialize her order. She reached in and took it, staring at the amber liquid in the tumbler. Janeway took a sip. It burned fiercely, just as she hoped it would, and yet the searing sensation faded all too quickly.
Why hadn’t she listened to Chakotay’s warnings about the flight, she wondered? She owed him an apology and she knew it, but tonight wasn’t the time. Once she’d wallowed fully, beaten herself up and emptied herself out, only then would she feel ready to go prostrate before the man who himself admitted he was always with her—no matter how irrational her decisions were.
That last thought just made her hate herself more.
Janeway walked over to her bookshelf in search of the one item in her possession she knew could make her feel simultaneously better and worse than she already did. With delicate fingers she pulled the leather-bound book off the shelf. Holding it with both hands, she closed her eyes and brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply, wondering if she could still smell him on its pages.
She couldn’t, of course.
The man who had given her the book had been dead for fifteen years, more than fourteen years longer than their relationship had lasted. Short of her memories, this was all she had left of him, really.
The chaise lounge in her living room beckoned her. She lay down and began to read.
#
Later that evening her door chimed, not once, not twice, but three times.
“Desperate, are we now?” Janeway grumbled under her breath, and stood up. She wasn’t feeling enthusiastic enough to go to the door and instead called out, “Come in!”
The doors parted to reveal the tall, dark and handsome form of her first officer. She shrank back onto her chaise lounge.
Great, she thought sarcastically.
“Come in, Commander. You’re still in uniform, I see,” she observed. “What can I help you with?”
“Actually,” he led, his eyes darting briefly over to her half-consumed glass of whiskey, “I came to see how you were doing.”
“I’m alright,” she answered automatically, not caring that he would see right through her comment.
“Captain, with all due respect, after five years as your First Officer, I wish you’d stop wasting your breath telling me you’re alright when I know you’re not.”
She sighed. There were so many things to say. But who should say them? Captain Janeway? Kathryn Janeway? Did the first words out of her mouth need to be, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,’ or ‘I’m devastated we can’t be together’?
She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Did she want to talk? No. Did she need to? Yes, she realized.
“It’s Kathryn, tonight, Chakotay. And no, I’m not alright. Getting home meant more to me than just getting the crew back to their families, and me to mine. I was looking forward to…” she paused, still unsure how much to say. “Well, I was looking forward to a lot of things,” she dismissed.
“And so you’re here, drowning your sorrows instead of cheering yourself up at Neelix’s party with the rest of the crew.”
“I don’t see you cheering yourself up at Neelix’s party with the rest of the crew,” she pointed out.
He frowned. “Good point.” She offered him a seat opposite her. He took it, resting his forearms on his thighs, folding his hands and inclining his head towards the book in her hands.
“Distracting yourself with a book instead?” he asked. “Anything particularly interesting?”
She debated simply saying no and quickly returning the book to a corner table, but something compelled her to honesty. She handed it to him.
“The Divine Comedy,” he read, and opened the cover. A quizzical look came across his face as he found the fabric bookmark inside, one end woven into the book’s spine, the other tied to a thin gold band that was inlaid with tiny rubies. He turned it over in his fingers.
“Not your average bookmark,” he said, admiring it. “It’s beautiful. Why don’t you wear it?”
Her voice and gaze were distant as she answered him. “Because that was my engagement ring.”
“Ah,” he said, closing the book. “Mark had good taste.”
A heavy pause hung in the air. Old anguish was written on her face in a way she could tell he hadn’t seen from her before.
“It wasn’t from Mark.”
He handed the book back to her. She took it gingerly, as if touching it would mean she would be burned.
“I’m sorry,” he offered, stepping lightly around the broken shards of her grief. “I can tell this is upsetting you. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
She answered him in a hushed and distant tone. “No, Chakotay, it’s alright. He’s dead. Has been for fifteen years.”
“Why were you thinking about it tonight?” he asked quietly.
Her eyes found his in an instant, her body tensing with self-directed anger. “Because my poor decisions killed Justin. And my poor decisions nearly killed all of us today. I should’ve listened to you. I’m sorry. I’ve gotten crazed about getting us home.”
He guffawed. “Now wait a minute. You’re not crazed--“
“Really, Chakotay?” she interrupted. “I had half my senior staff telling me we shouldn’t have taken that flight yesterday.”
“Kathryn, warning you about the risks, making my recommendation -- It was my job.”
She felt the blood drain from her face.
She sat on the couch in Justin’s quarters, a mere half day after he’d literally pulled her out of a Cardassian prison. Admiral Paris had quietly told her that Justin himself had been imprisoned by the Cardassians years earlier.
She had to know why he risked that fate again, and so had gone to him. But when she asked, Justin shrugged, responding simply, “It was my job.”
“Admiral Paris seemed to think it was more than that,” she countered.
Moments later, he took her into his arms and they kissed. Soon, they had lost all track of time, and all sense of the world around them.
“Kathryn?”
She looked back at Chakotay. “’It was my job.’ That’s what Justin said to me. After he rescued me from a Cardassian prison.”
His eyes grew as wide as she’d ever seen them and he spoke with an urgency she rarely heard from him, yet there was still compassion in his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me you were held by the Cardassians?”
She found she couldn’t meet his eyes as she explained. “Because it was years ago. On my first mission, under Admiral Paris. Tom’s father and I were both taken hostage. I was kept for about three hours. Generally mistreated but largely not harmed. Jus—“ she sighed, trying to gather memories and, to a lesser degree, her strength to tell the story. “Lieutenant Justin Tighe was one of the Starfleet Rangers we had on board. He and his team rescued me, and Tom’s father. I went to see Justin afterwards, to thank him, to ask him why he had risked so much. He told me he was just doing his job.
“It was quite a bit more than that, as you can imagine. We’d been working together for half a year and had fallen for each other months earlier. We just hadn’t realized it.” A mournful smile tugged at one corner of her lips, but her expression was tinged with awe. It was still amazing, really, how she’d missed the signs. “We were romantically involved from that point on,” she finished.
Her eyes fell on Chakotay and her smile became mischevious. “I was his direct report, you realize,” she added, her eyebrow rising in amusement.
Chakotay cleared his throat. “Really.”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t much of an issue. I was put on medical leave immediately afterwards.” Janeway paused and fiddled with the whiskey tumbler before continuing. “I wasn’t altogether well at the end of that mission.”
His soft eyes looked at her with concern. “Now I understand why you were so sympathetic to my crew when we combined the Maquis and Starfleet,” he said, looking at her in what was clearly a new light. “You’d seen first-hand what the Cardassians were doing.”
She nodded. “Not many Starfleet officers understood what the Cardassians were doing. And that was what made my relationship with Justin so…remarkable,” she explained, taking a moment to find the right word. “Justin himself had been captured by the Cardassians years earlier. They tortured him for three days straight. Can you even imagine? Three days.” She was still astounded by it.
This comment made Chakotay’s eyebrows rise. “And he still went on a mission to pull you out of a Cardassian prison camp?”
She nodded. “Knowing full well what the cost might be. But it left him very well-equipped to guide me as I returned to normal life. And I loved him deeply for it. All of it. It was a whirlwind romance. Three months after my capture, he proposed. A month after that…”
Her voice faltered and he waited patiently for her to continue. “Justin, my father and I went out for a test flight of a prototype shuttle. We crashed; I was thrown outside the wreckage but they were trapped in the fuselage in the water. I tried to transport them out…I couldn’t manage it. I made a bad judgment call. Instead of trying to save one of them, I tried to save them both. And I lost them both instead.”
She looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears from flowing. “I remember it so clearly now, watching him meet my eyes for the last time.” The image seemed burned into her memory. Those blue eyes, not pleading, but dazed, confused...
She stared at Chakotay blankly. She felt small and weak.
“Kathryn…that’s a nightmare. I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head. “It was so long ago.”
He reached out with one hand, placing it on her upper arm, making her breath catch in her throat. “Time doesn’t heal everything,” he reminded her. “And survivor’s guilt is one of the hardest burdens to bear.”
“Oh, this was more than survivor’s guilt, Chakotay,” she countered, shaking off his comforting hand. Her voice was low and fueled by the vitriolic self-hatred she still felt. “My mistake cost Justin his life. The man survived being tortured by the Cardassians only to die at the hands of the woman he wanted to marry.”
Janeway eyed the glass of amber liquid. Chakotay followed her eyes to the glass, then considered her silently.
After a moment he asked, “I take it that’s not your first glass?”
She looked back at him and frowned. “Actually, it is.”
He reached out and took the tumbler, his hold on it light as a feather, turning it around in his hand as if to admire the dark liquid contained within. Then he lifted it to his lips and tossed back the contents in one quick swallow.
“Excuse me!”
He rested the glass back on the table. “If you’re drinking, so am I.”
“That was good Irish whiskey you just wasted, I’ll have you know,” she said, speaking around a scowl. “It was meant to be appreciated.”
“I don’t think you were appreciating it,” he replied evenly. “I think it was just an accompaniment your wallowing.”
Now she really was angry that he’d swallowed her drink, if only because it wasn’t around anymore to throw in his face.
Chakotay pointed at the book in her hands. “And I don’t think your mood has anything to do with your dead fiancée, Kathryn.”
She sat up. “Don’t you dare.” Her piercing gaze could have drawn blood from the soul of anyone else. But he stayed fast, seemingly unfazed.
“This isn’t about Justin Tighe, it’s about the fact that you’re falling apart because you’ve been pushing too hard for too long, and it meant you made the wrong choice with other people’s lives in your hands. And I hate to break it to you, Kathryn, but I doubt this will be the last time we’re very nearly going to get the entire crew killed.”
She dropped her chin and continued to glare at him. “You mean me. This won’t be the last time I nearly get us all killed.”
“Can I ask how it is that you forgot you had a senior staff,” he countered, “whose job it is to keep you from single-handedly driving us all off a cliff?”
She laughed. “Planning a mutiny, Chakotay?” How close they’d become, that she could joke about this. But he stayed calm as the sea on a breezeless day. She marveled at how she had lucked out. Cavit had been a fine XO but this man, this man was the rock she needed beside her. Not just for the twelve hours each day she had the conn, but for life.
As for Justin –
“If the whole senior staff had thought you were sending us on a suicide mission yesterday to try to get us home,” Chakotay continued, “believe me, we would have found a way to stop you. Much as you may like to think to the contrary, you’re not an unstoppable force, Kathryn.”
She snorted at that.
He reached out and took her hand, as they often did. It wasn’t anything new and it didn’t send a jolt of electricity up her arm—at least, not like it used to. The playful banter, a joking smack on the chest with a PADD, a quick touch on the arm, all these things the crew had gotten used to seeing from them. They allowed themselves that, but little else, because that connection was subsistence. Like living on rations it was just barely enough to survive on. His fingers tightened around hers.
“I could’ve fought you more about the slipstream flight. But I didn’t stop you two nights ago, because I love you. You know that. But one day, I will stop you—and then too, I hope you’ll know I’m doing it because I love you.”
He turned to face her completely, removing the book from her hand, placing it gently down on the table, and taking hold of her other hand. “This book is about hell, purgatory, and heaven, right? Well, you’ve got a choice about where you want to spend the next 30 years: hell, purgatory, or heaven,” he continued. “Take your pick. But while you may like the feel of the flames, I don’t. I’m giving you one night to wallow, Kathryn. Any more than that and I’m having you relieved of duty and put on a couple weeks of leave.”
She pulled her head back in confusion. “What?”
“We can’t have you struggling from a setback and trying to run this ship at the same time. If you are, the senior staff is going to flex its muscle and we’ll pull you out of the chair for a little while to give you the vacation you need.” He smiled, and for a moment she thought he was joking.
“You’re not kidding.”
“Not one bit,” he said seriously. She let go of his hands and fell back on the chaise.
“You’re going to ambush me?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes, because I care about you. Take a vacation, Kathryn. You’re burned out; that’s what’s really going on here. I’ll come with you for an afternoon or two. You can finally teach me to sail.”
She laughed in disgust, rolling her eyes at him. She wanted to yell at him, to tell him all the reasons he was wrong—
Except she knew he was right. How was it that he could see right through her? In this way, he was like Mark—though Mark lacked Chakotay’s intensity and passion. And Justin--for all she had loved him fiercely, Justin had never been keenly aware of what was going on beneath the surface with either one of them.
Her decision was made, and she nodded. “You’re right, Chakotay. I’ve emptied myself out into this ship, into this crew, into getting home…this felt like the last straw. I tried to get us home; Not only did I fail, but I almost got us all killed. In some ways I feel like I can’t do it anymore. A part of me wants to give up.” She looked at him, embarrassed to admit it. “It’s in some ways similar to how I felt after Justin died.”
He nodded. “I can’t even imagine.”
Janeway picked up the book, reverently turning it over in her hands, admiring the detail in the embossed leather cover. “His mother gave this to him when he left for the Academy. The first in his family to join Starfleet. He’d grown up on a poor mining colony, you see. It was her way of encouraging him to believe he could forge his own path where there was none. And in only thirty-one years…by God, he did.”
She smiled mournfully in memory. “I tried to return it to her after he was killed. She insisted I keep it. She herself passed away a few years ago.” She looked back up at Chakotay now as she continued. “In all these years, I’ve never let him go. Not when he died. Not when I was with Mark. Not when I took my first command; not when I took this one. I’ve never forgiven myself for his death.”
“Would Justin?”
She looked at him, unsure what he was asking her. Chakotay continued, “You said he loved you enough to face the Cardassians again, in order to save your life. Do you think he loved you enough to forgive you for making a mistake, trying to save his?”
She’d never thought about it like that. But he had a point: She hadn’t killed Justin and her father – the crash had. She had been unable to save their lives in an impossible situation.
Had Justin loved her enough to forgive her for that immeasurable failure?
Janeway slowly pulled the ribbon from the book and held her engagement ring in her hand.
The breeze blew gently across the Colorado river, rustling the leaves in the trees. She held the book and the ring in her hand, still in a state of mild shock. He wanted to marry her? He wanted to marry her!
She looked up at him, watching the wind ruffle Justin’s mop of dark hair. His blue eyes shone with all the love she knew he had for her. He waited patiently for her answer.
It didn’t seem possible, she thought, for anyone to look more handsome, or that she could love anyone more than this. He had faced his greatest fears to save her life and been her compass as she recovered from her own imprisonment. She gave him the only answer she could.
Yes.
She looked back up at Chakotay. “Yes. I think he would.”
He nodded and smiled gently, and she felt warmed and comforted. His smile was almost as good as an embrace--almost.
“Alright, Chakotay, you’ve made your point. I’ll give. Take me off the duty schedule for five days. But not a minute more,” she said, holding up a single finger.
“Done.”
They held each others’ gazes for a long moment. Finally he shifted in his seat. “You know, I don’t regret what happened between us after dinner the other night. But there’s nothing wrong with the comfortable relationship since we’ve gotten back from New Earth. It’s worked,” he told her.
Sweet relief washed over her. Janeway opened her mouth to thank him for understanding, and then suddenly realized—
For once, Chakotay was completely wrong.
“You know, I’m not so sure that it has worked,” she said kindly. “You just told me I’m burned out. I just agreed with you. I’ve committed myself to a decades-long journey but I won’t even allow myself the comfort of a single real kiss. I thought I was going crazy because I got too close to love. Maybe I’ve been falling apart because I kept myself too far from it.”
A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Sounds like something to think about on vacation,” he responded, and she grinned.
She had been right—Chakotay was wonderful and thoughtful and forgiving, and they had figured things out. Everything was going to be okay.
Janeway’s eyes fell on the book again. “Have you ever read it?”
He shook his head. “Can’t say I have.”
Though she once worried she’d forgotten the sound of his voice, in her mind she could now clearly hear Justin reading one of his favorite quotes from the tome in her hands.
But the stars that marked our starting fall away
We must go deeper into greater pain
For it is not permitted that we stay.
She knew that Justin would’ve wanted her to be happy. And he would’ve been happy she’d found the man who now sat in front of her.
Janeway extended her hand to Chakotay, offering him the book. “Here. I think you’ll enjoy reading it.”
He looked at her in some surprise. “Kathryn—“
“Please, Chakotay. Take it. Enjoy it.”
He looked down at the book, then up at her, then once again before accepting it in his firm grip.
“I’ll have it back to you soon,” he said. “We can discuss it over dinner. During your vacation,” he emphasized.
They smiled and stood, and he temporarily sat the book down to take her in his arms. He was every bit as strong as Justin, but softer, gentler. Yet the comfort and safety she felt when she rested in his arms was undeniably the same she'd felt in Justin's. They held each other close for a long while.
After some time he stepped back and held up the book, getting ready to leave. “I promise I’ll take good care of it.” She stood up on her tiptoes and cradled his cheek, kissing him gently on the other. This secret gesture, too, was nothing new to them, only a sign of a promise kept.
“Before you go, I just want to say…” Kathryn glanced down at the book in his hands one last time. “I am so grateful you are still with me.”
He smiled. “Always.” He returned a kiss on her cheek and her broken heart soared. “Goodnight, Kathryn.”
“Goodnight, Chakotay.” He showed himself out, the doors to her cabin opening and closing with their usual soft swish.
Janeway stood staring at the door for a moment, then suddenly felt drawn again to the replicator. Her voice called out for a copy of a favorite book of her own. It materialized in a dazzling sparkle and she returned to her bookshelf. She held her breath for a moment and then slid the book into the place where Justin’s gift had rested.
Goodbye, Justin.
She adjusted the bookends, turned off the living room lights and headed into her bedroom to sleep.