Archive of Our Own

Unintended (AKA The Potential)

Kathryn had to give it to Neelix – the impromptu party he had put together was just what the crew needed, herself included. To have their hopes of receiving regular messages from home crushed when the Hirogen network had collapsed…! So the whimsical gathering was timely; not only did it give crewmembers a chance to gossip about the latest news from the Alpha Quadrant, but it also provided a distraction for those who wished to rather forget about it all. Kathryn was among the latter group; she was still reeling from Mark’s letter and she couldn’t completely ignore the lingering hurt, but she had decided earlier – at that moment when Chakotay had offered her his arm – that she was done wallowing in self-pity. She was done cursing at the circumstances. So for the last hour or so, she had mingled with her crew and delighted to hear their stories and relishing the opportunity to get outside of her own head – and heart.

As Kathryn made her way to get a refill of the fermented beverage Neelix had brewed for such an occasion, her ears caught a snippet of conversation drifting from a nearby group.

“…It’s hard to fathom, how quickly that war took a bad turn for us,” B’Elanna was saying.

“I still have trouble believing that we’re all that’s left of the Maquis,” a male voice added. “That the rest of them are gone, or just about. Exterminated, as if they were nothing but vermin.”

Kathryn glanced up at the group at that, frowning – that sounded altogether too serious a conversation for the venue. B’Elanna was standing with Harry, Tom and Lieutenant Ayala, and all four of them stood somberly, sharing equally dismayed expressions, their gazes distant. B’Elanna shook her head, her eyes unfocused, lost in thought. “That’s what we were, to the Cardassians,” she replied softly, her voice strangely devoid of emotion. “Vermin.”

“I understand now why Commander Chakotay wanted to read his communication privately,” Harry commented. “It must have been one hell of a letter. Does the captain know?” When the officers turned to look in Kathryn’s direction, they found her already looking at them, stunned by what she had heard and mind racing to make sense of it. She made her way to them, nodding to each of the officers in turn.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help but overhear. I wasn’t aware of any of this. Tell me what happened,” she said as she turned to B’Elanna.

“Apparently the Cardassians found an ally in the war… The Maquis are… They’re gone. The lucky ones are in Federation prisons. I would have told you earlier, Captain, but I assumed Chakotay would have spoken to you by now. He’s known for a while.”

Kathryn nodded distractedly, her mind still racing, thinking about the implications. What it would mean for Chakotay and the others should they ever return to the Alpha-

Her thoughts were interrupted when a new question burst into her mind: why hadn’t Chakotay told her? All this time he’d comforted her about Mark... Yet, to think about what he had been going through even then… Why hadn’t he just told her to suck it up, that there were worse things to worry about? She certainly would have deserved it, after being so engrossed in her own little world, when a huge part of his had just fallen apart. “I admit, I’m greatly disturbed by this,” Kathryn told the group somberly after a moment. “I’d like to have Neelix put something together later, as a commemoration, if you all think it would be appropriate.”

B’Elanna gave a small shrug as she exchanged a quick look with Ayala, but she seemed genuinely and pleasantly surprised by Kathryn’s proposition. “If you wish, Captain.”

Kathryn nodded before she looked around, scanning the room and searching for Chakotay’s dark head among the attendees. He was nowhere in sight. He must have left, but when? They had come in together and he’d made lighthearted conversation for her for a while, obviously to take her mind off Mark’s letter. They had separated at some point after Neelix had served the food, and then she hadn’t really paid attention to his movements as they had both mingled with the rest of the crew.

Kathryn returned her attention to B’Elanna. “If you don’t mind letting Neelix know about the commemoration, I’ll be back shortly.” Kathryn excused herself from the group and made her way to leave the mess hall, setting her glass back down on the counter on the way. Once in the corridor, she stopped by the console. “Computer, locate Commander Chakotay.”

“Commander Chakotay is in his quarters.”

With newfound determination, she set a course and moments later chimed the bell to his quarters. Chakotay frowned in curious surprise when he opened the door and found her standing there. “Captain?”

“You’ve never shied away from making me face up to my faults, Commander,” she admonished wryly. “So I expect you to tell me when I’m being selfish.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, but he stepped aside, silently inviting her in. “Why would I think you were being selfish?” He asked, watching as Kathryn stepped past him and into his quarters.

Kathryn spun on her heels to face him again, but her expression softened and her voice was hoarse when she replied. “All this time I’ve been so focused on my own personal problems, that I didn’t even think to ask if you had gotten a letter. Or what news such a letter might contain.”

He heaved a long sigh, grasping her reason for seeking him out at last. He lowered his gaze, his expression darkening with grief. When he raised his eyes to hers it was to give her a cynical look. “Might be worth reminding Neelix the value of respecting the privacy of other people’s mail,” he said – a tad bitterly – as he made his way to the replicator. Kathryn idly noticed that he had not only divested himself of his uniform jacket, but that he was also barefoot, his feet leaving imprints into the carpet as he walked. That struck her as… strangely intimate. She shook herself, focusing on the conversation.

“I didn’t find out about your letter from Neelix. It seems like the demise of the Maquis is becoming common knowledge by now.”

“I see. Mint tea, hot,” he ordered the replicator as he leaned against the wall with his forearm while he waited. He raised an eyebrow at her, but Kathryn shook her head, declining the silent offer.

In spite of his calm demeanor, it was now obvious to Kathryn that the news of the Maquis’ defeat had deeply upset him – he’d just done an outstanding job of hiding it from her until now. His hair was a little ruffled, as if he’d raked his fingers through it, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed suddenly more noticeable. How hadn’t she noticed the signs before?

Because she’d been acting egotistically, that was why, she reprimanded herself.

“Chakotay,” Kathryn called quietly to get his attention, her heart suddenly full for him. The loss he must be feeling. The sense of helplessness. The grief. He turned his head in her direction wearily. “Why didn’t you tell me? All this time you let me go on and on about myself…about Mark…” Kathryn said, shaking her head, her voice cracking.

He shook his head, but his throat bobbed when he swallowed. “You had enough on your plate as it was. I didn’t want to add to your burden.”

The angry warrior vowed to himself that from that point on, he would do everything he could to make her burden lighter. His words, uttered so passionately years ago, resounded in her mind. Amazingly, he had never derailed from that vow, from putting her needs first. She was moved by such unyielding loyalty and she was grateful for his support, but… didn’t it go both ways? Shouldn’t it go both ways?

“My burden…” Kathryn repeated slowly, wryly. It was enough to make his head snap up to look at her. “Whatever my burden may be, it shouldn’t keep me from reciprocating acts of friendship, Chakotay. When I confided in you about Mark’s letter, I wasn’t talking to my first officer, I was talking to my friend. I realize that I’m your captain, and that I’ve often drawn a line between us, but I would hope that you’d feel comfortable confiding in me, too, at times. Especially at times like this.”

He seemed to deflate as he let out a long sigh, shoulders sagging. He took his tea cup from the replicator before he started making his way back toward her. On the way he grabbed a PADD from the counter and he handed it to her before he resumed his course to go sit in the lounge area.

Kathryn’s eyes followed him a while longer before she lowered her gaze to read the contents of the PADD, slowly trailing after him as she read. Kathryn’s heart sank as she perused the contents – it was even worse than she had imagined. The tone of the letter, from someone who had lived through it… It was enough to bring a lump of grief to her throat. When she was done reading she stood quietly next to where he sat for a moment, uncertain what to say. “I’m so sorry, Chakotay,” she told him eventually, extending her arm to give him back the PADD. “For the friends you lost, but also to hear that the cause died with them.”

He took the PADD from her fingers before dropping it on the coffee table somewhat carelessly. “Are you?” He asked tiredly, following her with his eyes as she went to sit in the seat at an angle from his.

Though it stung a little, it was a legitimate question. When she had first been sent to the Badlands, she had, after all, considered the Maquis as enemies of the Federation. Chakotay included. “Well,” she sighed as she settled in her seat, “just because I would or could never agree with the methods of the Maquis doesn’t mean that I can’t empathize. Or that I can’t understand why it was important to you.”

He frowned curiously, surprise softening his gaze as he studied her. In fact, his expression was strangely similar to B’Elanna’s, when Kathryn had suggested a commemoration earlier. “You never said.”

Kathryn shrugged, lifting her elbow to rest against the armrest and leaned temple against her knuckles. “To be honest, I don’t think I fully understood the cause of the Maquis until I met you and the others. Even though I fought the Cardassians and saw what they were capable of, I was trained to believe that diplomacy had to win at all costs – it was probably a bit naïve of me, in retrospect. But knowing you has made me question it all, because… Well, now that I know you I can’t help but think that…if you thought the Maquis cause to be a just one, then it must have been – because you’re one of the most honorable people I know. You wouldn’t risk everything for a cause you didn’t believe to be worthwhile, or necessary. And because I trust your judgement, more than my own, sometimes.” Kathryn paused to meet his eyes again. “So yes. I am sorry for your loss. All of it.”

Chakotay stared at her for a long moment, his cup halfway to his mouth. Then he blinked and took a sip, but Kathryn thought she had spied a small smile behind the cup. “Too bad the movement is dead, Kathryn, apparently I was halfway through getting you to join. You’d have made a great Maquis.”

A bark of laughter escaped her at both the idea and the wry humor returning to his eyes. “Well, I aim to excel at everything that I undertake, so of course I would have made a great Maquis!” She replied in the same tone.

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. He seemed to relax, sinking deeper into the cushions of the sofa. “It was a shock, I admit,” he admitted softly into his cup, sighing. “To learn that it was over. All those people, dead or in prison… It’s like you said before, about not really expecting your fiancé to wait for you indefinitely. It was similar for me – somehow I always expected to be getting this news about the Maquis eventually. But… to have expected it doesn’t make it any easier to accept when it actually happens, does it?”

Kathryn shook her head, though she knew his question was mostly rhetorical. “Do you wish you had been there with them, to fight to the last?”

He sighed, tugging on his earlobe. “I can’t deny that there’s a guilt, that comes from being alive when so many of them died. I keep thinking that if I’d been there, maybe I could have done something to prevent it. To protect them. But… It also made me realize how lucky I am to have been handed a second chance. If the Caretaker hadn’t snatched my ship from the Alpha Quadrant, if I hadn’t met you…” He shook his head dejectedly, a hint of wonder in his expression.

She could finish that sentence for him: he would have likely shared the fate of his comrades. He would probably be dead, or in prison. And suddenly she found herself grateful too, for the circumstances that had saved him from that fate and brought him into her life instead. Because she didn’t know what she’d do without him. One good thing at least had resulted from their being stranded in the Delta Quadrant – it had saved probably his life, and the others’.

“And the more I think about it,” he went on, “the more I find comfort in the thought that being alive means that I can still make a difference.” The resolute edge in his voice and passionate gleam in his eyes reminded her of another time, when he’d vowed to her he would always put her needs first. “Fight for a better future. Aspire to achieve great things. Help you get this crew home safely, and do everything I can to protect those I care about.” He paused, his eyes meeting hers squarely. “Including you.”

Kathryn blinked against the sudden moisture in her eyes. How was it that even when she was trying to comfort him, the reverse ended up happening instead?

“Well,” Kathryn started with a shaky smile, trying to lighten the mood, “I’m relieved to hear you’re not planning an insurrection. I had two guards posted right outside that door in case this had emboldened you to inflame the Maquis to make one last stand, and make me walk the plank to achieve it,” she joked.

He chuckled softly, sending her a sly look. “Don’t kid yourself – that’s not quite off the table yet.”

Their shared, quiet laughter couldn’t quite erase the darker heaviness that lingered in the air between them, but it was a start. After a long second of holding each other’s eyes, Kathryn pointed to the replicator. “I’ve changed my mind, do you mind?”

He cleared his throat. “By all means. Besides, it’s your ship, remember?”

Kathryn grinned as she rose to her feet to go order herself some coffee from the replicator.  

“You know I’ve been thinking,” Chakotay started in his more typical, good-humored tone when Kathryn returned with a cup of black coffee in her hand. “Maybe you should write him back.”

“What?” She sat back in her seat, making herself more comfortable by leaning back and crossing her legs.

“The man you were engaged to. Mark, was it? Maybe you should write him back,” he clarified.

“I already started writing him a letter, remember? When Seven first spotted the conduits?” Kathryn hadn’t had the chance to finish it earlier, and now… Now everything in that letter felt obsolete. Wishful thinking. Irrelevant.

“That was before,” Chakotay said, watching her, as if reading her thoughts.

She shook her head. “What would be the point? The Hirogen network was destroyed.”

“I was thinking more in terms of closure. A catharsis. For your own sake. A way to get everything off your chest. And who knows? Maybe you’ll get a chance to actually send it to him one day, if you want. And in that way, truly find closure.”

He was right, but Kathryn shook her head, chuckling wryly. Just the thought of it was daunting. “I wouldn’t know what to say to him, now. Or where to start.”

His lips quirked up. “I’m sure you could think of something – you’re not usually one to be lost for words,” he teased. “But you could start with the truth. It hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park for us either. So you could tell him what you’ve been going through, how you’ve been coping. You could just tell him what you’ve been telling me.”

Kathryn considered the suggestion (and him) as she sipped her coffee, her mind going back to all the times she had confided in Chakotay, be it about her ever-present guilt or her occasional doubts. Could she actually tell Mark all these things? The question nudged something loose in her memories about her life with him, something she’d somehow pushed to the back of her mind in favor of keeping only the rosier memories alive. There was no denying that she had been happy with Mark, or that she had loved him. Yet, she could recall it now, that feeling she used to have of being torn between her desire to explore space and be the kind of Starfleet officer she dreamed of becoming, and the sense that she had to rein in those desires in order for their relationship to work. In one of their rare arguments, he’d reproached her of being married to Starfleet, adding that he didn’t know how to compete with that. He’d apologized for saying it afterwards, assuring her that he hadn’t meant it. But it had sat uneasily with her. Because if he truly had been the right person for her, then he shouldn’t have felt compelled to compete. He shouldn’t have needed to. But from then on she had tried to be understanding and so had compromised, keeping some things to herself about her Starfleet life and ambitions that she feared he might resent in the long run. She had done it out of love and a commitment to their relationship, but now she understood that in doing so, she had probably sacrificed a part of herself too.

And so it struck her like a blow that a lot of what she had confided to Chakotay over the years, she might not have even told Mark, her fiancé. The man she had intended to marry, to spend the rest of her life with. The realization left a bitter taste in her mouth, but it also sparked a swell of gratefulness for Chakotay – for his unwavering presence at her side, his steadfast counsel and friendship. And for never asking anything in return.

“That would be a perfectly reasonable way to respond, I suppose,” Kathryn conceded with a long sigh, curling her legs under her. But was she there yet? She couldn’t deny the fact that, as much as she understood, on a rational level, why Mark had moved on, and as much as she wanted to be happy for him, a part of her was still hurt. And deep down, that pain continued to brew bitterness and (if she was honest with herself) feed a bruised ego. “But what if I don’t feel like being reasonable or forgiving?” She said out loud, leaning her chin in the palm of her hand. “Would it be petty of me to want to tell him what a great time I’ve been having instead?” She was only half-joking, despite the chuckle in her voice.

The corners of Chakotay’s mouth twitched, but there was deeper understanding in his expression. She wondered how he could do that – listen to her rambling on without judgement. He raised a playful eyebrow. “It’s your letter, Kathryn. You can say whatever you want."

“Well, if I were to write this letter…I might start by writing about all the amazing discoveries we’ve been making. Nebulae, star systems, strange new worlds, unheard-of species… I would say that the galaxy is even more wondrous than I could have ever dreamed of.”

“Sounds like a good start. Should I be taking notes?”

Kathryn’s lips curved in reply to his teasing before she pushed on, letting a little wickedness seep into her tone. The whole point of this hypothetical letter was to let it all out, right? Well, a petty part of her longed for some payback. “Maybe I should tell him that a Q actually asked me to mate with him,” she suggested. “A little jealousy has never hurt anyone.”

Chakotay snorted in amusement, but she couldn’t miss the brief wince that flashed across his face. He nodded, conceding her point. “Yeah, that would make him feel small. And foolish for letting you go.”

Kathryn shook her head in amused exasperation at the memory – she still could hardly believe that it had happened at all. But then she recalled Chakotay’s own reaction at the time – he’d told her bluntly that he didn’t like it. She wondered if the “feeling small and foolish” line came from his own experience. She shoved the thought out of her mind.  

“And then, of course I would write about the crew, and how they’ve become my family over the years. How fond of them I’ve become.” She was serious now, and her genuine affection for the crew softened her voice. Chakotay’s smile softened as well at the sound.

His eyes crinkled with mischief as he brought his cup to his lips. “Will you spare a line to tell him about your dashing first officer, too, who’s always there to steer you in the right direction?”

She laughed.  “Oh you’ll be in there!” She assured him. “How could you not? You really are always there to steer me in the right direction. And dashing,” she added with a sly, playful look from behind her coffee cup. He chuckled softly and she furrowed her brows as she considered him. “In fact, now that I think about it, Mark would probably be much more threatened by this,” she added with a gesture between the two of them, “than by the whole Q thing!”

Her words – though spoken laughingly – seemed to hang in the ensuing silence when it didn’t prompt the expected smile or teasing reply from Chakotay. Instead his smile changed in a very subtle way; though his lips were still curved, somehow he had turned fully serious, his gaze suddenly boring into her. After a second too long, his eyes darted down, briefly.

“Not if he really knew you,” he replied quietly, frowning into his cup. “Because if he did, he would know that you would never allow anything of the sort to happen with a member of your crew.”

Kathryn’s heart jumped into her throat. Because there was a question in his statement, somehow, as if he should have added “right?” or “would you?” at the end. You would never allow anything to happen with a member of your crew… would you? As if he were asking for confirmation. This wasn’t an entirely new conversation between them, but this time it unsettled her, and she didn’t know how to respond. Up until then, her thoughts had always gone to Mark in these instances – he had provided her a reason (or an excuse) to ignore other possibilities or to wonder whether she might ever be able to let go of her ‘parameters.’ But now…

There was something heady in the thought that all that was keeping her from truly opening her heart to someone else was her own insistence on abiding by Starfleet’s recommended codes of conduct. As captain, that’s a luxury I don’t have…She’d told Chakotay, years ago, acutely aware of his gaze slowly roaming over her face. Studying. Wondering. She’d felt flustered under that gaze. But she also knew full well that so long as they were in the Delta Quadrant, she made the rules and could therefore change them, if she wanted to. This thought was exhilarating, but also deeply scary, and for a second her heart felt like it was freefalling. She hadn’t felt so thrown off balance since she and Chakotay had been quarantined together and she had found herself loving the feel of his hands on her, enjoying his company, and unable to deny the attraction or the chemistry between them. The potential.

She didn’t know why it scared her so much, this potential, except for a deeply-rooted fear or belief that a relationship with one of her officers would undermine her ability to command, and therefore, unravel her entire sense of self. She had been told often enough during training to avoid such relationships because they would skew her judgement, make her vulnerable to those who would take advantage of any weaknesses she might show as a captain. But for Kathryn, the fear ran deeper than that: she couldn’t help but believe that such a relationship would make her appear weak in the eyes of the crew, and more importantly, that it would distract her from her duty and determination to bring her crew home. Letting go of her Starfleet principles would be like admitting defeat – like admitting that she’d given up on the idea of returning home. And she wasn’t ready to do that. She didn’t know if she ever would be. And she suspected that Chakotay knew that, because he was right, he did know her. In ways that Mark never did.

Which was precisely why she felt compelled to retreat behind her rank to protect herself – because if Mark couldn’t be her safety net anymore, her rank still could.

Her thoughts had raced, so it was only about five seconds later that she dragged her eyes up to meet his again and smiled, though she had a feeling that it came out a little strained. “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” she conceded, closing that door.

He nodded, his gaze finding his cup again, biting his cheek. Was that disappointment, that emotion that had just flashed across his face? It had happened so fast she might as well have imagined it. After a second he smiled again and raised his eyes to meet hers. “So I suppose that would probably conclude the letter, then?”

“Yes!” Kathryn exclaimed, relieved to go back to their light-hearted banter, though she couldn’t quite shake the uneasiness that lingered in her stomach. Though, his normal expression made her suddenly wonder whether this had all been in her mind – that maybe she had heard an innuendo where there had been none. She shook herself. “After all this, I suppose it would only be fair to end by saying that I wish him all the best. And actually mean it.”

He smiled gently, nodding – apparently satisfied by this little psychological exercise he’d had her do without her truly realizing.

Kathryn frowned as she set her coffee cup down on the table. “You did it again, Chakotay,” she started in her more usual, teasing drawl. “I came here to be there for you and somehow it ended up being all about me again. You have to stop doing that,” she told him with a tired chuckle as she stood to her feet.

He grinned, following her to his feet, then accompanied her as they slowly made their way to the door. “For the record, I don’t think you were being selfish by not asking me about my letter,” he said. “You’re grieving, Kathryn, that tends to make people a bit self-centered.”

“Not you, apparently,” she countered.

He shrugged. “Maybe helping you has been my way of coping with my own grief. It gives me something else to focus on, until I’m ready to accept what happened.”

Kathryn nodded. She narrowed her eyes teasingly. “Pull up the notes from my letter, Commander, I’d like to reword the part about you. It should now say: “dashing and much too forgiving.””

He grinned, his smile reaching his eyes, and she patted his chest. “By the way,” she went on as he resumed walking, “I’ve suggested to B’Elanna that Neelix make a special announcement later, as a way of commemorating your Maquis comrades. I hope you’ll return to the party for it. Maybe you could say a few words, I know the former Maquis crew would probably appreciate that.”

He nodded. “That’s a nice thought, Captain. Thank you.”

She nodded before she moved for the door. She stopped when she realized he wasn’t following her anymore. “Aren’t you coming?”

“In a minute. You did just volunteer me to give a speech, so I should probably think on it for a bit. I’m afraid I don’t have your talent for improvisation.”

She smiled, nodding. Before she turned she paused again, considering him for a moment longer, taking in his familiar features, the quiet strength emanating from him, the humor that made his eyes twinkle. “At the risk of truly sounding selfish this time,” she started more seriously, her voice softer. “I’m really glad – grateful – that you’re here. I often take it all for granted, but the truth is, I don’t know what I’d do without you. You really do make my burden lighter.”

One corner of his mouth curled. “And I’m told I make a great sounding board.”

She grinned. “That you do.” She frowned, their gazes still locked – unspoken words suddenly burning on the tip of her tongue. Before she could reconsider, she let them out. “I wasn’t completely honest before.”

He raised a cautious eyebrow. “Oh?”

“What I said, about starting a relationship with someone under my command. You’re right, I wouldn’t, not now. But… who knows how long we’ll be here? Circumstances might change.”

There was a subtle shift in his expression – whatever it was made his eyes seem to shine more intensely. He recovered quickly and smirked, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Do you mean to say you’ll actually retire?”

Kathryn chuckled, grateful to him for bringing them back to their usual banter. It was what they did – this was their comfort zone. She drew the line, he helped her walk it. “Oh sure. In about 35-40 years, I would expect!”

His snort turned into a chuckle, but when he nodded there was an knowing, acknowledging glint in his eyes. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Captain.”

She nodded as she turned on her heels. “Don’t forget your shoes, Commander,” she tossed over her shoulder.

His quiet laughter followed her into the corridor and Kathryn blew out a long sigh. Leave it to Chakotay to somehow manage to help her relegate Mark to the back of her mind. The simmering anger and hurt she’d felt before had lessened to something akin to simple disappointment. It wouldn’t be so easy to get over it all, she knew that, but this, she decided, was a step in the right direction.

So now she only had to learn to come to terms with the rest of it, with the potential.

Well, she reminded herself, she had plenty of time for that.

Plenty of time.

oooOooo