Chapter Text
Earth
The waves come and go along the shore. In and out. Back and forth. Cracking against the rocks as an ocean spray graces her cheeks. It doesn't bother her. Nothing does. Nothing matters anymore.
He joins alongside her, his thigh brushing up against hers as he sits down on the wooden planks of their private jetty. He doesn't say anything. Not at first. Just allows the silence to fill the spaces between them.
After a while his body shifts closer still, wraps an arm around her back, and he tucks her head under his chin. She moves into his embrace, relishes the distinct feeling of his warmth.
"We should go inside Kath; it's getting cold."
Mark's right of course. They should go inside. Face the music. But she can't. Not just yet.
"In a while," she promises.
Mark holds her closer. "Okay," he says simply, staring out at the same sunset with infinite patience.
The ocean turns pink to match the sky, as the light refracts around the planet. This, along with the tides and stars at night, tether her to reality. To know that she is a small part of something much greater, is humbling. Puts her loss in context.
Eventually they'll return to the house. Climb between the sheets of their bed, and succumb to the inevitability of sleep. But not right now. For now, they sit and listen to the ocean, watching each wave come and go. In and out. Back and forth. Much like her grief.
****
Voyager
Chakotay asks her about Mark one evening. Over one of their late night dinners, which have been growing in both frequency and intimacy recently. Teetering on the edge of something new. Something exciting.
"Do you still miss him; Mark that is?" He asks carefully.
"Sometimes... Not like I used to," she admits, suddenly very focused on watching the bubbles rise up in her drink. Her eyes flicker up to meet his. "Why do you ask?"
He suddenly looks a little awkward, hesitant perhaps. "I suppose I want to know what I'm up against," he admits, a little colour rising to his cheeks. "If Mark still occupies your heart."
Kathryn carefully contemplates her response. Over a year has passed since she learnt Mark had married in her absence; believing she was dead. It would be easy to be flippant, to admit it's probably for the best. That it's left her free to explore other opportunities.
The fact she hasn't yet taken that leap though, loads the air between them with uncertainty.
She knows why. She's terrified. Chakotay would be more than a comfort or a distraction. She suspects that if they cross that final boundary he will become everything to her. Everything she's been too afraid to risk. Almost . Something has changed recently; something intangible. The if of possibility has become more of a when .
He doesn't know this though; not with any certainty. He believes that Mark might still be the reason she's holding back. Removing that last barrier will expose her, force the issue.
Tonight, she's feeling a little risky.
"Mark was an important part of my life for a long time," she confesses. "We went through a lot together. But over time I've come to realise that he was a safe type of love. What I needed after I lost Justin and my father. I miss the idea of him, but no, it's not Mark who occupies who now occupies my heart."
Chakotay's eyes flicker up to match hers. There is surprise, but also hope held openly in his face. "Is there someone else?"
It's now or maybe never she realises.
"Yes," she admits, "Although it could be too great a risk."
"Why?" He breathes.
She gives him a meaningful look. "I think you know why."
He holds her gaze. Studying her carefully for any indication that he's misunderstood. She holds her ground. Seconds pass.
Eventually he moves, placing his drink carefully on the table. He stands, and walks around the table until he's before her. One hand on the back of her chair, the other palm flat on the table. She's leaning up to face him, and he's leaning in towards her. She expects him to kiss her, but he doesn't, instead he presses his forehead to hers.
"I don't want to hurt you," he whispers.
The words are so unexpected, that she frowns with confusion. That's the last thing she thinks he'll do to her.
"If we get this wrong," he clarifies, "I can't be the one to let you down."
That's the least of her worries, but it's the worst of his. All this time she's been concerned that a relationship would consume her and distract from what's important. Whereas Chakotay is thinking more about the practicalities, their compatibility as a couple; that he wouldn't be enough for her.
They've both been holding back. And yet, they both want it desperately. It's that realisation which gives her the final push.
Kathryn reaches up and cups his cheek, changing the angle of her face, to brush her lips against his. It's a sweet, fleeting kiss. One which either of them could pull back from easily. They remain.
"Let's not get this wrong then," she says, before kissing him again.
Chakotay returns the kiss eagerly, but he doesn't escalate. He matches her move for move.
When she stands from her chair and wraps arms around his shoulders, his arms come up around her middle. She takes a step back, and he follows. She opens and removes his jacket, and soon hers is gone also.
"There's no rush," he tells her as they step towards the bedroom.
"I think we've waited long enough," she assures him.
****
Earth
Mark is gone by the morning; and she's not quite sure if it's relief or longing which she feels in his absence.
Phoebe calls. Kathryn doesn't answer.
Starfleet calls. She goes for a walk.
Months have passed since the incident. Somehow she knows that the passing of time no longer matters; she will never recover from this. It doesn't matter if days, months or years pass, the pain will never waiver.
The weather turns while she's out. Dark clouds form over the horizon, carried on the wind. The rain is sharp and cold when it reaches her, the tiny droplets of rain razoring at her skin. She doesn't care. It's good to feel something different.
She's only gone a few hours. Mark is there when she returns. Sitting outside the front of the house under the cover of the porch, looking both worried and anxious. Worried for her; anxious about what is happening between them.
He looks up when she approaches. Her light footsteps crunching on the pebble driveway. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes say it all:
Where have you been?
You're a state.
I love you.
Oh God, if only she could feel enough to care.
Without the exchange of a single word he follows her into the house. Holds her as she collapses against his chest with long overdue tears. Returns another of her cautious and hesitant kisses. Encourages her from the wet clothes. Gives in to her need for intimacy yet again, even though they know they shouldn't.
They lie together in silence for a long time after.
"I've left my wife," he finally tells her.
Kathryn turns her head on the pillow and looks over at him. She can see the pain and guilt etched in his features. Knows that she's the cause for the conflict in his heart.
She should be happy, or relieved, or remorseful. She feels none of those emotions, not anymore.
There is however the smallest slither of gratitude. She's grateful that she's not alone, that yet again she has Mark by her side. That in her time of need, this man steps in, abandoning everything else in his life, just to be present with her.
It's enough to give her a flicker of hope. Whenever she is lost and adrift, she can always rely on him to anchor her.
Reaching out, she takes his hand, slotting their fingers together, trying not to remember the last man she'd shared this action with. The man who had displaced Mark's residence in her heart, and occupies it still.
Losing any member of her crew would have been an unaffordable loss.
Losing Chakotay had been devastating.
However returning to Earth without Voyager, without any of them, was a pain like she could never have imagined.