Chapter Text
“He used often to say there was only one Road; that it was like a great river: its springs were at every doorstep, and every path was its tributary. ‘It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door,’ he used to say. ‘You step onto the Road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.’”
So many things to worry about. Granted, objectively, Kathryn had more concerns, more urgent ones, too, when they were still in the Delta Quadrant. But everything seems to have doubled, now that there’s a baby in the equation.
That Section 31 business had really hit close to home. And how can Kathryn be certain that their home is safe if people insist that she shouldn’t concern herself with ship’s business while on maternity leave? When this ship is home?
So many worries, and somehow, each time one is assuaged, another two raise their heads – so Ayala has moved to Bloomington, and he’s a fine and capable man. But he’s got family, too, doesn’t he? What if they’re threatened? And Phoebe – Kathryn glares at the memory of her sister flatly refusing security because ‘there is no crime on Betazed, Kathryn’. I only hope that giving her Tuvok’s anonymized report on Suder will open those stubborn eyes.
Kathryn presses the door chime to Voyager’s best guest quarters. “Come in,” a familiar voice calls out, and Kathryn steps through the readily opening doors. “Kathryn, love – it’s good to see you!” Gretchen hugs her, then pushes her away to arm’s length. “What’s wrong?”
“Can’t keep anything from you, can I,” Kathryn mumbles, following her mother to the sofa.
“Well, it’s the middle of the night, you are at your mother’s doorstep, and you’re patently nowhere near sleep. Give me some credit here, will you?” Kathryn levels a look at her, and Gretchen sighs, then chuckles softly. “There are times when it’s uncanny how much you remind me of your father, daughter mine. And this,” her hands describe a wide circle, “is so close it’s almost a déjà-vu. He was scared stiff when you were born.” Her eyes grow gentle, distant. “Scared stiff,” she repeats. “Great Edward Janeway, with all his pips and medals and commendations, all his contacts and friends and people who owed him favors. When I told him I was pregnant, he blanched. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“I can relate to how he felt,” Kathryn admits.
“Of course you can. Who doesn’t want the world to be a safe place for their children?”
Kathryn’s head comes up from the tea table flower arrangement she’s been studying, eyes pulled by the catch in her mother’s voice. Of course. I never realized… “And then the world takes your husband and strands your daughter half a galaxy away.”
Gretchen smiles at her, though. “Oh, but you came back, didn’t you? Life takes, life gives. And I think in my case the balance is firmly on the plus side.” She pauses with a deep breath, then takes Kathryn’s hand firmly in hers. “Kathryn, do stop being so demanding of yourself – you’ve been through such a lot. It’s only a year, after all, that you’re back from the Delta Quadrant, and what a year it’s been. A court martial, a promotion. A whirlwind marriage, an equally sudden pregnancy, a depressed wife. A conspiracy to steal your ship and kill you all, for heaven’s sake. And for a bit of peace and quiet – three blessed days in Sweden, with security officers along.”
That last sentence is delivered so dead-pan that Kathryn can’t help but smile. “If you put it that way…”
“I do.” With a last squeeze, Gretchen lets go and cocks her head. “So you’re scared. Of what exactly?”
“I…” Kathryn swallows. “I constantly feel as if I haven’t thought of everything. It drives me mad to imagine anything happening to you, or Lea, or Marie, because I forgot to think of something.” And that, of course, is the reason for her headlong dive into security discussions with ch’Vlossen and Seven and Chakotay and… everyone she could think of, really. Making things safe for her loved ones. Nothing else.
“You can’t make the world safe for an infant, Kathryn.”
“I can try, can’t I!” Kathryn fires back, incensed by her mother’s calmness. I need to. I need to make it safe. How can she be so… relaxed about it?
“And if you fail in bettering Starfleet, the Federation and the universe in general, you fail your daughter?” And that question is accompanied by the most piercing gaze Kathryn has ever felt subjected to.
Kathryn stares back at Gretchen, openmouthed and at a loss for words.
Again, Gretchen laughs and shakes her head. Again, Kathryn feels her anger rise. “I swear, Kathryn, from the moment he heard about your arrival, Edward never once stopped worrying. And I do agree that it’s part of a parent’s task to provide safety for their children. But you can’t control everything, love; it’s pointless to even try. You’ll wear yourself out before the world is how you want it.”
“I know that,” Kathryn grates from between gritted teeth.
Her mother keeps up her scrutiny, then nods, apparently satisfied by what she sees in Kathryn’s face. A smile flickers across her features, and she tilts her head, eyes still sharp, but in another way. “So that’s not really what has you so upset, is it.”
“How…” Kathryn can’t bring herself to complete the question. How does she know?
Again, Gretchen’s gaze turns back to a different place, a different time. “You know, Julia Paris had a hard time of it when Tom was born. It wasn’t a case of postpartum depression, far from it – but it wasn’t the motherly bliss people expect to happen when a woman gives birth, either.” She shakes her head again. “Some mothers take to their child instantly. Some need a few days to adjust, even weeks. Depressed is just one in a multitude of possibilities of how a new mother can feel. You’d think that in billions of years of procreating people would have learned that by now.”
“Mom, I…” Again, how? How can I tell my mother – how could I tell anyone? – that the word ‘family’ evokes memories of the reunion party we just had, of Mom and Phoebe and brownies and Bloomington, of laughing with Chakotay on Voyager’s bridge? And not the image of a home, a wife, a daughter?
“Give yourself time, Kathryn,” Gretchen’s voice cuts through those thoughts. “I’m positive Lea will be a wonderful, loveable, exhausting and delightful kid. Take your time to get to know her. Take your time to get to know your wife, and yourself, in the context of family. It’s a good thing Marie is like she is – I don’t think she would file a divorce to get you to listen.” Kathryn’s head snaps up incredulously. “Julia did, back then,” Gretchen nods affirmation. “It was tough for both of them. Owen had no idea how to cope, Julia couldn’t find the words to tell him what was going on… and so things turned ever downwards, until Julia saw no other way out. At least it got both of them to sit down and talk about it, and then the solicitor was wise enough to point them to a counselor.” A smile flashes across Gretchen’s face. “When she told me about it, Julia said that that divorce letter actually saved their marriage.”
A slow exhale helps Kathryn find words. “I had no idea…”
“Not many people do,” Gretchen replies. “I don’t think even Tom knows. Owen took it very much to heart; maybe too much so. I know for a fact that he was quite… apprehensive. Unsure of how to treat his son – oh, he loved Tom, there’s no doubt of that. And he never blamed him, either, but Owen Paris was quite thrown off course by that episode, and I remember thinking that in his determination to do right by his boy, he overshot the mark. Not that Tom was an easy boy to do right by,” she adds wryly. “Took me a while to reconcile the boy I knew with the man who returned from the Delta Quadrant; I daresay it took his parents a little longer.” Then, after a pause, and in a much softer voice, “You did well by him, Kathryn.”
“He did most of that,” Kathryn wards off the undeserved praise. “I just gave him his chance, that’s all.”
“Exactly.” Gretchen smiles as if she’s just made an indisputable point. Her eyes turn indulgent when Kathryn refuses to acknowledge it. “Oh, my Katie. Confusion doesn’t make you a bad mother. But do stop pushing and punishing yourself. No one deserves that, not you, not your child, not your wife. Talk to Marie; I’m sure you’ll find your way. I’ll listen with openness – wasn’t that part of her wedding vows?”
Kathryn nods, again struck speechless by the memory. Simple words, brought forth sincerely, artlessly, from a completely exposed heart.
“I thought so,” Gretchen continues. “So honor her promise, will you? Make it your own; only trust begets trust. From what I’ve seen between the two of you, I don’t think Marie would be mad if you told her; on the contrary, I reckon she’d be angry if you didn’t.”
She’s right. “True,” Kathryn nods, suppressing a sudden yawn. “I think she suspects something already, in any case.”
Gretchen laughs out loud, one silver bell note. “She does know you well, doesn’t she. All the more reason to speak to her soon, I’d say.” Gretchen takes a breath and sits up straighter. “Now, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Hm?”
“If you’re awake enough to listen,” her mother smirks teasingly. “This Section 31 business-”
“Right – are Ayala and his family settling in alright?”
“Oh, I believe they are; his sons are delightful, you know. And I thank you for asking him to make the move. But that’s not what I meant.”
“Well, then what did you mean?” A second yawn assaults Kathryn in earnest. It is far past midnight, after all.
“Have you ever thought of joining them?”
“Ayala and his family?”
Gretchen laughs again. “The Section, sleepyhead.”
It takes Kathryn a while to process it. Then, “What?! You can’t be serious!” Wide awake in an instant, she stares at her mother, mouth hanging open once again.
“Why not? Fight them from the inside, or change them for the better. Who if not you?”
“I can’t. Won’t! Mom, how can you even think-”
Her mother raises her hands in capitulation. “Alright, alright, forget I said anything. It was just an idea, anyway.”
“I’ll forget it alright,” Kathryn snorts. “Not one of your best ideas, Mom. I think I’ll stick with talking to Marie, if you don’t mind.”
“By all means, my dear. By all means.”