PART SIX
Her heart pounding wildly Kathryn made her way to Starfleet Medical in her own shuttle. The past hour had flown by like a raging wind blowing away everything in its path. She felt as if the wind had blown right through her and emptied her of debris, replacing the debris with something thrilling, clean, something so potent that she still had difficulty breathing normally. But the EMH and his team were waiting for her, as well as Tomaso and Carina. She'd had to make arrangements for their accommodation, though she was certain B'Elanna and Tom wouldn't mind. Miral could use the company of other teenagers. Her eight year old brother Owen was no company. Besides, he was too boisterous and Miral often claimed she was ready to murder him.
She had to calm down. The short walk from her shuttle which she landed not far from Starfleet Medical gave her time to think about the events of the last hour. She had left Indiana, leaving behind a fretting Greer who wanted to accompany her to Headquarters because she didn't want to be out of Kathryn's sight. With great patience she and Phoebe and the boys managed to reassure Greer that Kathryn would return to Indiana soon.
"Not too long, Mommy?" Greer had asked, looked sceptical and tearful.
"No, honey."
"Tomorrow, then?"
"Well, I may be away a little longer than that, honey. But I promise to bring you something nice, okay?"
"Crayons?"
"That, too!"
With that Greer was bought over and Kathryn had given Phoebe a grateful hug before she boarded her shuttle.
Then, the moment she was airborne, the instructions started.
"Lieutenant Grosskopf, I take no pleasure in reporting you to your superiors - "
"But - but, Admiral!"
"You chose to disbelieve two young people who told you they have an emergency. It's not as if you couldn't have waited for them to make a landing, even if it were unauthorised. There are other ways. They're not a fleet of Cardassian war birds!"
"Aye, Admiral. I apologise, Admiral. Your instructions, please, Admiral?"
"Let Tomaso and Carina know that Captain Chakotay will be in good hands - "
"Captain Chakotay, Admiral?"
"You mean to tell me you didn't ask them the identity of their patient!?" she asked, aghast and a little outraged.
"We are indeed sorry."
Kathryn had no time to smile at the shame-faced look of Grosskopf. Instead, she shook her head at their blundering. Chakotay was still a Starfleet officer, holding the rank of consul, overseeing diplomatic matters on Dorvan and its neighbouring worlds, of which Polarya was one. She had known that he moved to Polarya a year or so before Seven of Nine died.
Lieutenant Grosskopf waited for her instruction.
"Now," she started decisively, "Captain Chakotay is to be transported first to Starfleet Medical. Doctor Robert and his staff are waiting. I have already informed the EMH of the nature of Captain Chakotay's condition. He has suffered from the same illness before. Captain's Chakotay's daughter and his nephew are to be escorted by you to the waiting rooms outside the medical suite. Is that understood?"
"Aye, Captain."
"Now, let me speak to the girl."
"Aye, Admiral."
A second later, the face of a young girl appeared. Kathryn bit back a sharp intake of breath. She had never seen Carina, but anyone who had known Seven of Nine would have had no problem identifying her as Seven's daughter. She looked distraught, harassed, afraid.
"Carina?"
"A-Admiral Janeway-Greaves?"
"Yes, Carina. I'm Kathryn Janeway. I'm sorry about your father, but I want to give you the assurance that he'll be in good hands."
"Thank you, Admiral."
"And Carina…?"
"Yes, Admiral?"
"You have been very, very brave. I know the symptoms of your father's illness and know how he must have regressed into violent behaviour. Did he…?"
The young girl remained quiet for a second, bit her lower lip before responding. Her eyes were downcast, as if she were embarrassed to admit to something as horrific as abuse.
"I - I understand," Carina started, a little hesitant, then more confident, "that he was not himself. That he could not help how he reacted. I - I am fine now." Carina gave a gentle smile. "Tomaso threatened to kill Papa - "
"I think that your cousin is a lot like his uncle."
"Oh, yes! Tomaso is as tall as Papa. He protected me…"
"He does sound very protective. Just like your father, Carina."
Carina had given a tearful smile. "I am glad Papa has you, Admiral Janeway-Greaves…"
"And I'm glad your father has you."
Walking to the medical suites, Kathryn closed her eyes and sighed. Six years ago she had left Chakotay in the middle of the night. He had been married then and her guilt had hung too heavily on her to continue their illicit love affair.
She had closed communication wondering if Carina knew about her father and his former captain.
Summer was upon them again and Kathryn lifted her face skywards, enjoying the warmth on her skin. With some surprise she found that her hands were clammy, despite the mild weather. Was she nervous?
Over the past six years, she had always become melancholy during summer. Especially the first week of August, the time she had usually visited Venice. That first year had been particularly traumatic. She had married Horatio soon after her last summer with Chakotay, unhappy, brooding, filled with renewed regret that she left him. Then Greer was born; it brought light into her life again. But those first weeks after her birth… Kathryn sighed. If it hadn't been for Horatio…
She took in a deep breath as she entered the cool foyer of the medical facility used by Starfleet personnel. She was to see Chakotay for the first time again in six years, as well as meet his daughter and his nephew in person. Her heart gave a sudden, burning lurch at the thought of seeing them, especially Chakotay. Judging by that time on Voyager when he had almost knocked her senseless during his delirium and demented phase, she had no doubt that he might have been violent. Carina had admitted as much although she didn't reveal much of what had happened since Chakotay had fallen ill. And with that thought came the next: Carina had looked almost afraid. Their week-long journey from Polarya must have been filled with traumatic incidents.
In all, it must have been two weeks. Two weeks for a man to go completely mad, a man who refused medical treatment.
When she reached the waiting room, Carina and Tomaso were not there as she had expected. Then again, they might have insisted being present with Chakotay until she arrived. To her dismay, she heard loud noises coming from inside the medical suite, Chakotay's voice above those of the EMH, Tomaso and Carina.
Without waiting to announce herself, she entered.
Mayhem.
Chakotay was lying on the bed, but his body arched as if he had been stabbed in the back. His eyes were wild and for a moment she thought they were rolling so that only the whites could be seen.
"Keep away from me!" Chakotay barked.
"Lie still, Captain! How am I supposed to treat you if you don't listen?" said the EMH, pushing Tomaso out of the way.
"Papa, please listen to the doctor," Carina pleaded, her voice sounding tearful.
"Let me die!"
Kathryn moved swiftly to the bed, nodded to the EMH, Tomaso and Carina, who gave her a surprised, though penetrating look. They made space for her, moving away so that she was alone with the demented man. They faded into the background as she stepped forward to face Chakotay. In the few seconds she looked at him, she had time to assess the man she had loved hopelessly for more than twenty years.
As she had surmised, his eyes were wild, crazed by the pain of the alien flu as well as the tormenting demons of the dementia from which, he had been convinced years ago, he was never going to recover and would die like his grandfather before him. Chakotay's hair was matted to his deeply tanned skin, hair that had grown long, unruly. His cheeks were sunken. He looked gaunt, hungry. It was possible he hadn't eaten properly in weeks. How had Carina and Tomaso tended to him the past weeks and how had they dealt with his mad outbursts? They were still children really, too young to deal with taking care of someone who could die soon if he didn't receive treatment. They, especially Carina, must have withstood a lot from her father.
Chakotay was breathing heavily, as if every breath was a painful journey to his lungs. He was also foaming at the mouth, the froth just pressing past the corners.
"I told you I don't need help!" he bit out again. "Leave me to die, damn it!"
Then he grabbed her and tried to push her away. His eyes connected with hers, a connection without recognition in them.
"Chakotay…"
"Go away!"
"Chakotay…" she murmured his name again, softly. She took his wild, thrashing hand in hers and held on to it firmly. Over and over she called his name.
Chakotay's body convulsed. A wheezing sound escaped from his chest. His mouth was bleeding now, probably from biting his lip or his tongue. Stark eyes, dark and wild and afraid met hers again. As if her voice called the rational part of his mad meandering to order, he began to listen. For long moments his body shuddered, but Kathryn held his hand.
"It's me, Kathryn… You're safe now. Let us help you… Let me help you, my love…"
The last two words were said very softly, so that only he could hear them. Kathryn glanced quickly to the others, but they remained at a distance, blurred images.
"Let me help you, Chakotay."
Only then did awareness dawn, a recognition that sprang from the past knowledge of her, from history, attuned as he had been in the past to her voice and its inflection. The wheezing stopped for heart-rending moments; the shuddering body stilled. His hand in hers tightening its grip, not hard, not invasive, but thankfully.
"Kathryn…?"
"Yes, it's me, Chakotay. It's me. Everything will be fine now…"
"Kathryn…?"
It seemed to her the demons visibly retreated from his eyes, the fire in them dying, dying, replaced by a new kind of heated fervour. Recognition of her. His free hand came up slowly to her face, her cheek and she felt his fingers against her skin for the first time again in six years. The touch was soft, tentative, trembling fingers that found rest against her. She closed her eyes at the memories the contact evoked and her free hand lifted to cover his.
"Kathryn…Kathryn…" she heard him whisper her name, the sound low, yet audible, but also soft like the old, never forgotten caresses she remembered.
She felt how he tried to lift his head and how he sagged back. Her gazed fixed on him again and with a heart overflowing with unbearable love, she scooped him against her, not caring that the blood from his mouth, the sticky foaming, stained her uniform. He buried his face against her bosom as she held his head, her fingers lacing through his long locks.
Chakotay started shuddering again, the sounds of his muffled sobbing filling the room. Her own tears flowed and fell on him. She ached for him, cried with him and when he finally calmed down, he fell back against the pillow, his hands in hers. She reached for the cloth next to a bowl of warm water and gently she wiped his face, wiped away the blood and the residue of the earlier foaming.
"I never stopped loving you, my Kathryn… But I wanted to respect your decision. I know I don't deserve - "
She released his hand and pressed a finger to his lips.
"Shhh…" she said softly. "Let's get you well and on your feet again."
"I hungered for you. My thirst was like the driest desert that lived with me constantly."
Kathryn cupped his cheeks. "I'm here now, my love and you don't need to worry anymore. You're going to get better in a day."
"My love…? Kathryn?"
"Just let the EMH treat you, okay?" she said, seeing the eagerness and anticipation in his eyes at hearing her endearment. "You know what the treatment is. You've just…forgotten."
Chakotay gave a deep sigh and closed his eyes, his hands becoming limp as they slid from hers. He whispered, "We'll visit the Rialto and the Bridge of Sighs again…"
Finally, she stood up and turned to the EMH, her eyes still full of tears.
"He's ready for you now, Doctor."
She turned round, looking for Tomaso and Carina.
"They left the room, Admiral. I told them Captain Chakotay is in the best hands now and they needn't worry. You'll probably find them in the garden."
"Thank you, Doctor. I'd better find them and make arrangements for their accommodation…"
**************
Dearest, dearest Chakotay
My love. I shall always think of you as my love! I wish I could let you leave Venice and the Bridge of Sighs, the Rialto, San Marco Piazza with the knowledge that we'll meet again here next year.
I am so very sorry that I have to do this, Chakotay. You see, the past few weeks before I came I wondered if I'll ever be really happy waiting for just one time in the year to be with you. And I realised that I am doing you an injustice. I am not true to us. I feel constantly that I am breaking up a marriage, even if you declare over and over that you are not happy with your wife.
I have to let you go, my love. I have to let us go. It is eating me up inside, this terrible guilt I feel every time I am here with you, every time I lie in your arms and feel your lips on my skin, every time we kiss.
I can't do this anymore. I watch you as you lie sleeping so peacefully, with not a care in the world, it seems. The lines of strain and unhappiness are gone from your face. But, my love, I need more than just seven days in the sun, in a place where ghosts walk the dark alleys at night and whisper tales of ancient romances.
You know I met a man several years ago who professed his love for me. He is a good man, Chakotay, and before I came to Venice a week ago, he asked me to marry him. It was not the first time he asked, but always, thoughts of you, our love, our time together every summer have put me off giving him any answer.
I am going to say yes to him, Chakotay. Horatio Greaves is a good man who loves me. He knows about you and knows about our love. He knows I can never love him as he deserves, but he has assured me that his love will be enough for the both of us.
I leave you this journal and the rosewood box filled with the mementoes of our years together.
Seven of Nine and your little Carina deserve a husband and father who will be there for them always, unconditionally. I leave you with a deep and aching sadness, but it is a leaving that must come to pass.
Go to them, Chakotay and assure them of your love to them, your devotion.
Yours forever
Kathryn
*
Carina sat on a bench in the garden just outside the hospital. Her eyes filled with tears again as she recalled the last entry from Admiral Janeway's journal. She had left it in the box in the shuttle, but the words, written in such a beautiful hand, remained imprinted in her memory.
She had seen the woman at last. She had seen Kathryn Janeway, the woman for whom her father pined all his life. She still didn't know how or where she herself fitted in all of this, except that her mother must have tricked her father into marrying her after he made Seven of Nine pregnant. Those circumstances were also a mystery to her, a romantic mystery that would reveal itself to her in time to come. How could her mother do this to a man whom she knew to be desperately, beyond any reason, in love with Kathryn Janeway? How had her father and the love of his life, the captain of Voyager, come to a point where they might have had an argument in which bad words might have been spoken?
Whatever the circumstances, it had resulted in her father making her mother pregnant, her mother giving birth to her. She should feel terrible and angry and devastated that she, Carina, was a tool used in a game of deceit and love. Her mother loved her father, of that there was no doubt, but how could such a love have been contracted through avenues of dishonesty and betrayal?
"I am not sorry that I am here, now, the daughter of Chakotay, but I am sorry that the wrong people were thrown together to make something work that didn't…" she whispered softly to herself.
It was a warm day, summer on Earth, she realised. Not as hot as on Dorvan or Polarya. Tomaso had taken a walk. "To discover the place," he told her. She hadn't wanted to go anywhere but wait here where she could see ducks, hear the sounds of birds, wondering what Admiral Janeway was going to do, thinking about her father and his love for this woman, thinking about the city of Venice with its waterways and hundreds of little bridges, the basilicas and cathedrals, all places of antiquity. Not only did she want to see the place where her father was happy for a small part of the year, but for her own curiosity too. She was curious about so many things, like exploration and science.
She heard footsteps on the path behind her and glanced quickly round to see who was approaching; her heart suddenly lifted when she saw it was Admiral Janeway-Greaves. The admiral looked really petite though rather imposing in her uniform. She wore her hair in a short bob that curled a little inwards on her shoulders.
And she was smiling.
Carina felt a great reassurance. She stood up, wanting to click her heels together at attention. In fact, she was already standing when the admiral beckoned her to sit down again. Then the woman sat down next to her.
"You are as beautiful as your mother…" were the first words spoken by Kathryn.
Carina felt a blush, but also the old rancour.
"These days it is not a good association, Admiral Janeway-Greaves." She turned her face away from the penetrating stare but felt a hand guiding her firmly to meet Kathryn's gaze. Admiral Janeway's eyes were kind, just as she thought they might be from reading her journal entries.
"I am sorry about you mother. She tried her best…"
"To split you apart!" she responded suddenly, with fervour.
"Carina?"
"My f-father was never happy, Admiral. Never! He never smiled much and I've never heard him laugh. My mother couldn't. She tried. But she couldn't. I could never understand why they couldn't show affection like Tomaso's parents. I - I never understood."
"Carina, is there something you're not telling me here?"
"We came to Earth because of the journal."
Carina looked away as she saw how the admiral became very pale. It lasted a few moments only.
"You…read my journal?"
"I found the rosewood box. It wasn't difficult for me to open the lock." She paused, took a deep breath before continuing. "I understood for the first time why my father was so driven… Forgive me, Admiral, that I breached your p-privacy," she said, beginning to stammer again. "Forgive me…"
Carina looked away, wanting to escape the hurt and the anger in Admiral Janeway's eyes. But she felt herself pulled towards the woman, closer and closer until she hurled herself against Kathryn Janeway-Greaves and began to weep forlornly.
It felt so good to cry with abandon and not worry about smudging and being embarrassed. The arms that enfolded her were comforting and reassuring, pressing her closer. She felt lips pressing against the top of her head. She cried harder, remembering how her mother always admonished her not to cry. Now she felt it was good to express her emotion with so much freedom. And Admiral Janeway cooed to her, as if she were just a little girl needing comfort, her hurt kissed better. She never stopped her words, spoken in soft tones. "My angel…" she heard the admiral say. "You don't know how many times I wished to know you…" "It's okay…shhh…don't you worry. Everything will be fine from now on…"
She wanted to stay forever like this being comforted by a woman who was her father's first and only love. A good woman from whom only kindness and strength exuded. But mostly kindness, of the kind that made anyone want to rest her head against her soft bosom.
Just like a mother.
Like a mother.
The tears stopped eventually and when she finally moved out of the admiral's embrace, she sat staring at her with tear-filled eyes, sniffing like mad until she saw a proffered hand holding a snow-white handkerchief. Thankfully she took the offering and dried her eyes and nose.
"Thank you, Admiral - "
There was a long pause. Then, "Carina, since you've read my journal, you know that I am married…"
"Yes, Admiral. I still wanted to bring Papa here so that you could give him hope again. But your husband - ?"
"He died, Carina, in a shuttle crash, with Admiral Owen Paris, a month ago."
She stared - gaped at the Admiral. No wonder her eyes looked so sad. Only a month… When Seven of Nine died, she had cried for a long time until she could cry no more.
"I am indeed sorry, Admiral, that you have lost your husband. I am sure that Papa didn't know…"
"No, I didn't inform him. I should, actually. Now the situation has changed a little. As soon as he's recovered…"
"Do you have children, Admiral?"
"I have a little girl, Carina. She's only five."
"I should like to meet her very much."
Admiral Janeway stood up and took her hand. "You will, soon, okay? Her name is Greer."
Carina thought she saw apprehension in Admiral Janeway's eyes.
"Admiral…"
Another pause as Admiral Janeway gave her a penetrating but soft look.
"Yes?"
Carina dug her hand into the pocket of her gilet and retrieved one of the objects she had found in the rosewood box. Kathryn Janeway looked on with a curious air. Carina opened her palm and on it lay, face up, the miniature.
"I found this miniature in the rosewood box," she started softly. "Papa must have put it there himself. When-when you described the mural that he said he commissioned, I thought he must have lied to you. Papa did the mural, Admiral. As sure as I am standing here, I know he did it. This miniature…is it the same portrait of you as the painting on the wall?? Carina felt grateful, happy when Admiral Janeway nodded without saying anything. Her eyes were soft, though. Soft and watery. "I was still small when I saw Papa work on this. He told me it was a - a Renaissance painting…"
There was another pause as Kathryn Janeway took the miniature and held it on her palm.
"Please, make Papa happy again?"
"Carina…"
"And - and I could still need a mom…"
"Oh, Carina…"
*******************
END PART SIX