Work Text:
Chakotay finishes his watch and goes to find Kathryn. Things have been… awkward between them since they were rescued from New Earth. But here they are, stranded on another planet in the Delta Quadrant - a much less hospitable one, by the way - and despite the overwhelming sense of guilt and panic, Chakotay has also been assaulted with beautiful memories of their previous exile ever since they arrived. The whiplash he is experiencing can only be truly understood by one other person.
Chakotay is not surprised to find her half hidden behind a large boulder at the outskirts of the clearing. Close enough to the crew to hear if anything goes wrong, but far enough away that she could have some modicum of privacy. Chakotay approaches the boulder quietly, not wanting to disturb her in case she is actually asleep. Of course she is not, and her head turns sharply in his direction when his foot hits a pebble that goes skittering across the dusty ground.
“Knock knock,” he says with an apologetic smile.
“Who’s there?” she responds wryly.
“May I join you?”
“It’s a free planet. Most likely.” She gestures to the barren dirt surrounding her, indicating for him to take a seat.
He does, a little closer to her than she probably would have liked, but he can’t bear the distance between them on this already inhospitable and isolated planet. She won’t say so, but he expects she feels the same.
They sit, side by side, leaning against the large rock that conceals them from the rest of the crew and Chakotay decides to take a chance; he takes her hand. To his surprise, she does not pull away. Quite the opposite, in fact, she turns her hand to interlace her fingers with his.
They sit like this for a while, quiet, contemplative, each drawing strength from the other through the contact of palm on palm, shoulder on shoulder. Chakotay can’t pinpoint who leaned into who, or even when it happened. All he knows is that they are drawn together, like magnets, and that he’ll never get through any of this without her by his side. He turns and brushes a kiss on the top of her head. It is soft and fleeting but he knows immediately that it was too much because her body goes rigid against his.
She withdraws her hand and scoots a few inches away, drawing her knees up under her chin protectively.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m just tired and I wasn’t thinking. Please don’t pull away. I need you,” he pleads.
She is faced away from him, her cheek pillowed on folded arms, resting on bent knees. She is quiet for a long time and when she does finally speak, it is so soft he almost thinks he might be dreaming.
“I need you too.” Her words are accompanied by a sniffle and Chakotay realizes she must be crying. He raises a hand to her shoulder and gives a brief, comforting squeeze. His hand slides to her back where he begins to rub small circles, light as a feather.
“Stop,” she says, sitting up straight again and shrugging his hand away in the process. Her watery blue eyes meet his warm brown ones and she takes a deep, steadying breath before she continues. “If you don’t stop now…”
“…you might stop asking me to,” he finishes for her, resigned. They’ve had this discussion once before. On that other planet, after they learned they were to be rescued in only 30 short hours.
“But would that be so terrible?”
“Yes!” She replies resolutely, but then hesitates. “No. Not… terrible.” She smiles softly and her eyes shine with memories now beneath the unshed tears. “Not terrible at all.”
He reaches to wipe the tears from her cheeks but she pulls back again before he gets there. “But that would be giving up on Voyager. And I’m not ready to do that. It has only been 14 hours. The crew needs us to be strong, to lead them off of this god forsaken planet and back towards home.”
Her voice is resolute now, commanding, and for the first time, he hates the Captain a little bit. Not Kathryn though, never Kathryn.
“You say ‘us’ but what you really mean is ‘you,’ right?” he says bitterly. “Captain Janeway, savior of the Delta Quadrant: strong and stoic leader of the intrepid starship Voyager. You said you need me? That’s a laugh. You don’t need anyone, do you?!” He knows his words are unfair and unnecessarily cruel but he can’t seem to stop them from bubbling out of him like lava from the volcano in the distance.
“I suppose not,” she replies coldly, turning her face away from him again so that he cannot see the fresh tears springing to her eyes.
He watches her for a while, the moonlight shining overhead, her crew gathered around various campfires in the distance. Our crew, he corrects himself, suddenly feeling like a complete ass.
“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
Kathryn draws air through gritted teeth, hissing like she has been burned. “No. No, I probably deserve that and more.”
She turns toward him again, angling her whole body this time, not just her face. “ I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m sorry I keep getting you stranded, I’m sorry I lost you the chance to know your son, and I’m sorry that I don’t know how to do… this.” She gestures weakly between the two of them before continuing. “I felt guilty giving up on home even when it was just the two of us,” she admits, her confession surprising Chakotay. “Even though we were happy, I couldn’t forget the fact that it was my fault that we were there in the first place.” She puts up a hand to halt the protest she knows is coming. “No. I made the choice to destroy the array and I would do it again. I know that it was fundamentally the right choice. Doesn’t mean I can’t mourn the collateral damage I created.”
Chakotay nods quietly as he processes all of this new information. He rests his hands on his knees with palms facing up — an invitation for comfort that she doesn’t take.
“So do you see now?” she asks him, “Do you see why I can’t allow myself any happiness or even solace here? I can’t start to build a life here at the expense of the crew. I can’t lose my will to get them home.”
“And what happens if Voyager doesn’t come back? If the crew starts to believe and accept that this is where we will spend the rest of our lives?” Chakotay demands.
“I might give in,” she admits quietly, “but I will be the absolute last one who does.”
“Second to last,” Chakotay corrects her, earning himself a quizzical look. “I won’t give up until you do,” he explains, “but if you do give up, I’ll be here, waiting.”
Kathryn clears her throat and blinks back a fresh onslaught of tears as she finally offers her hand to Chakotay once more.
“So then, you’re with me?” she asks, smiling through the tears.
Chakotay squeezes her hand once but does not linger. “Always.”