Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Time and distance are the usual remedies for a love unrequited, but of course we have the luxury of neither. The fact that things here are entirely requited, however impossible, only make the situation infinitely more fraught.

To be fair, we have time in abundance: 70 years or so by estimate, a lifetime spanning out before us, though the vastness of it seems more hindrance than help. Distance is another story: hard enough to come by on a ship this size, even more so when you sit side-by-side every day, the safety and well-being of that vessel and her crew utterly dependent on your ability to work seamlessly together to the exclusion of all other concerns. That is the oath that binds me, the vow I swore when I took command of Voyager and which was hardened into a lifetime commitment when the Array flung us out beyond the bounds of anything any of us had ever imagined when we first came aboard for our three-week mission.

What I wanted no longer mattered, stopped mattering the day my decision left 150 people stranded a generation away from home. I was no longer free to explore the spaces within my heart; I already belonged, body and soul, to Voyager. I tell myself that over and over, remind myself again and again on abyssal nights when I wake alone and aching, when our eyes inadvertently lock and I see my reflection in his steady gaze, when I stare out the viewport into the star-flung sea of space surrounding us and wish, desperately, for a sign to guide us home.

But we are already home. Voyager is our home, thanks to me, and the bitter loneliness of command will be my penance.

Chapter Text

There is no end, but addition: the trailing
Consequence of further days and hours,
While emotion takes to itself the emotionless
Years of living among the breakage
Of what was believed in as the most reliable—
And therefore the fittest for renunciation.

--T. S. Eliot, The Dry Salvages (No. 3, The Four Quartets)

Kathryn Janeway did not pause to think who might be at her door when the soft inquiring chime stirred the stillness of her quarters. She called out “come in” without looking up from the poem that held her, only raising her head when the doors whooshed shut but no further sounds came. She frowned slightly at the sight of her first officer standing motionless just over her threshold.

“Commander? To what do I owe the honor?

His hand rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes roaming away from her. “I – I couldn’t sleep. I had a hunch you’d be up as well.”

“You came to my quarters after 0200 on a hunch?” Her rising inflection made him wince, but he made an attempt at levity anyway.

“Actually, I accessed your replicator logs to see when you’d made your last cup of coffee. From there, it seemed a safe assumption.”

“I see.” She closed her book, page marked with a finger, and regarded him obliquely, eyes focused just out of range of his. “Was there something you needed that couldn’t wait until morning?”

Chakotay took a step deeper into the room. “I knew I wouldn’t rest until I’d apologized to you for what – “

Her other hand went up in a warding-off gesture. “Unnecessary. Your actions were being directed by a force outside your control. My log will reflect that; you needn’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about what you’re going to tell Starfleet. I’m worried about what’s between us in the aftermath. When you walked off with Tuvok I got the impression that he’d earned a level of forgiveness that I had not.”

“I’ve known Tuvok for nearly half my life; my trust in him is implicit. I’ve watched him over these past few days as he fought off Teero’s influence, saw the enormous toll that struggle took on him. But what I didn’t see, Commander, was much indication of a similar struggle on your part.”

Her gaze locked on his at last, and in her stormcloud eyes he saw the wreckage of something he’d come to believe was unassailable. The floor beneath him no longer felt quite stable.

“Tuvok had the benefit of decades of Vulcan mental discipline on his side.”

“Oh, I know that. Intellectually, I understand that. But you’re a spiritual man, strengthened by the meditative practices of your people; was there nothing that felt off to you? No moment when a part of you stood back and realized that something was wrong?”

He considered for a long moment before defeat sagged his posture and dropped his head. “Perhaps for a moment, but it was swept away by Teero’s programming. It was overwhelming, like a tide rolling in. It carried me away before I could even think to try stopping it.”

“And intellectually, I understand that, too,” she murmured, looking anywhere but at him. “But I can’t intellectualize how I felt when I heard you order my execution. When I close my eyes, I see my oldest friend training a phaser on me on my dear – on my closest friend’s order. Somehow I think that’s going to stay with me for a while.”

“Oh, Kathryn,” he whispered, taking another step toward her and stopping abruptly when she shifted slightly in her chair, the light from the nearby lamp revealing the ring of faint purpling blotches on her right bicep. “Oh, gods. Did I do that to you?”

“You mean when you all but frog-marched me down the corridor and threw me into my own brig?”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he muttered something in a language she couldn’t decipher. “Can I at least run a dermal regenerator over it? Will you let me do that much for you?”

“No, thank you. I want to watch those bruises fade and see if the memory of your cold blank stare fades along with them.” Her book fell forgotten into her lap as she folded her arms, hands rubbing restlessly, and that gesture made him see for the first time that she was shivering slightly, though the room was warm. Rising, book falling unnoticed to the floor, she paced across to the viewport and faced the star-strewn expanse. She wouldn’t share the tears she felt threatening to escape.

“It’s been years, Chakotay,” she murmured, and his name on her lips was agony. “Years since I’ve felt any tension with the former Maquis on this ship, years since I’ve felt even the slightest reason for concern, and within the space of a few days that equilibrium has been destroyed. I know – I know you were all under an outside influence, an incredibly powerful form of mind control, and yet I can’t help wondering if, deep down, some of you still feel that divide, that resentment. Hearing you refer to my crew instead of our crew was a gut-punch. And so, for a while, I’ll wonder. Maybe that will fade along with the bruises, as well.”

“I understand that you probably won’t, can’t, believe this now, or maybe ever again; but I am still with you, Kathryn. But for a momentary lapse, that hasn’t and will not change. I am just as committed as you to getting our crew safely home, together. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you, until you can believe it again.”

There was a moment when he almost went to her, a moment when he saw her shoulders shake and her head bow; but she caught herself and the moment was lost, and he contented himself with stooping to pick up her book and place it next to her cup on the side table by her chair. She was reading Eliot at past-two in the morning and it occurred to him that she neither wanted nor needed comfort on this night; she would crawl through the shards of her emotions as she always did, and – if they were both fortunate enough – she would be back by his side in due course. The time might yet come when she would let him in, and they might find their way together; but it would not be tonight. He turned to go, but her voice stopped him:

“Go to bed, Commander. We still have a ship to run.”

A lifeline. A glimmer. “See you on the bridge, Captain?”

“Always.”

Chapter Text

In the ringing silence between the first cry of Voyager’s newest crew member and her father’s subsequent departure from his station, the eyes of the ship’s two senior-most officers met and locked across the bridge. The soft-voiced order, when it came, was accompanied by a slight incline of the captain’s chin and the graceful sweep of her arm.

“Mr. Chakotay. The helm.”

The first officer left his terminal without a backward glance, oblivious of Seven’s gaze following him to the lower platform. Taking control of Voyager for what might be the last time, Chakotay began inputting his codes while behind him, his captain sank back into her chair and gripped the armrests, staring fixedly ahead at the vista she had sometimes wondered if she’d ever see again. Inhaling sharply, chin lifting, Janeway gave a final command: “Set a course, for home.”

And like that, it was done. She had won her singular objective: she’d gotten her ship and the bulk of her crew back to the Alpha Quadrant. A trancelike calm settled around her, muffling her emotions while simultaneously sharpening her senses, etching the moment in her memory: the vivid colors of the monitoring displays and workstation control panels, the inset blue and white floor lighting, the texture of the armrest beneath her flexed fingers, the threads of silver glinting at Chakotay’s temple as he bent over the helm console, and beneath it all the pervasive steadying hum of Voyager’s engines. All of it so familiar, so dear to her in spite of every moment of horror and heartbreak the past seven years had thrown at her, that for a moment leaving it all behind was all but unendurable. That blue-green orb on the viewscreen was as foreign to her as any random Delta Quadrant planet; Voyager was home.

Then the moment passed, and the trance dispelled. “Mr. Kim,” she said, and the young man snapped to attention. “Open a ship-wide channel.

“Attention all personnel: this is your captain speaking. We have exited the Borg transwarp conduit and re-entered Federation space. Currently we are on course, with full Starfleet escort, to dock at McKinley Station. You will be given further instructions as details become available. At this time, I would like to say that it has been the greatest honor of my life to have served as your captain for these past seven years. Each one of you has shown exemplary courage, fortitude, and ingenuity under the most challenging circumstances imaginable, and I have been privileged to serve alongside you on this journey. To all of you: welcome home.” Her voice cracked on the final word and she turned to Harry, making a slicing motion that cued him to cut the channel. Rising abruptly she moved forward, into the gap above the steps, gripping the railings separating the command level from the conn.

Course plotted, Chakotay turned his attention back to his surroundings, glancing behind him to the command deck and beyond. There were Tuvok and Harry, each at their stations, still as statues. Seven remained poised at tactical, a slight frown marring her lovely features; without stopping to wonder why, he avoided her gaze, seeking and finding Kathryn standing centered behind him, eyes huge and fixed past him on the viewscreen. Something in her stance, in the way she lifted her fisted right hand up tight against her throat, brought him out of his seat and had him moving toward her without conscious thought or reason. After all these years and despite all that had come between them, he stepped unerringly to her side, his right hand just brushing her left; and when she at last let go of her ship and turned toward him instead, he caught her in his arms and closed his eyes and for the first time in a long time he remembered what home, and peace, could feel like.

Watching from both a physical and emotional remove, Seven had a flash of understanding that she would never mean as much to either of her commanding officers as they meant to each other; and she found that this did not trouble her as much as it might have. Her humanity had grown, thanks to the compassion and generosity of the two of them, to the degree that she could see and honor the obvious bond between them with only the faintest sting of jealousy that she would not herself be first in either of their hearts. That she would have their continued support and affection as their world expanded beyond the confines of Voyager she had no doubt; and although her burgeoning connection to the commander would obviously be changing, she felt sure that her new life on Earth, as an individual, would bring her new connections and new opportunities. And when a warm hand fell upon her shoulder and she lifted her face to see the familiar handsome countenance of Ensign Kim behind her, Seven relaxed imperceptibly, shifting ever so slightly toward him. Mr. Kim had many attractive qualities, and now that he no longer seemed intimidated by her, perhaps it would be worthwhile to explore a possible connection with him. Putting a tentative arm around his waist, she allowed him to steer her down to the lower deck, where they joined the captain and the commander in gazing out at the new world ahead of them, with Tuvok standing silent sentinel behind them all.