"This Way"

We all get a little touchy when it comes to matters of the heart, and I am no exception. When She bumped into me in the Mess Hall that faithful morning, little did She know Seven and I had just had our first fight. I had stormed out of our quarters, my fists clenched and my mood foul, hoping no-one would get in my way. So, when She had good-naturedly asked it Seven was 'keeping me up all night' upon noticing the bags under my eyes, I snapped. The dam, which had been keeping my rage at bay, crumbled, and everything tumbled out in a vicious onslaught.

It wasn't Her I was angry at, you see-it was myself. But of course She didn't know that, and my words stung...So much so that she retreated to the sanctuary of Her Ready Room, leaving me stunned into silence.

I could have stopped Her, could have explained. Could have apologized. I could have, but I didn't. My own pathetic ego prevented me from doing the right thing, telling me that it was Her fault, and that my anger had been justified. That my stupidity was justified. I swallowed it all, and pushed my guilt aside; I busied myself with 'more important things', refusing to acknowledge the damage I'd done.

She was my closest friend, my shining light, my companion...and more. But yet I ignored Her, cast Her feelings to the wind like didn't mean a thing to me. Like I didn't love Her more than life itself.

After She'd left, I eventually regained control of my legs and made for the Bridge. Twenty minutes late, but who would question the Almighty Fool, Chakotay? None but the Captain, and She was no doubt too busy pouring over some reports and sipping Her damned coffee to care. That was what I wanted to believe, though, and now I think it more likely She was gazing out at the passing stars, wondering why Her best friend had done this to Her...

I thought things would look up after a few days, but I couldn't have been more wrong. The tense silences lingered on, and more than once I felt like a wall had been built between us, one which severed our bond like a guillotine. There was an unmistakable sense of loss within me, and it showed. B'Elanna tried hard to reassure me, telling me that it would all work out, 'in time'. But, I had asked, how much time would it take?

Days turned into weeks, and then suddenly we were home. The Alpha Quadrant, our destination for the past few years, and something which I had been dreading for a long time. My fears turned out to be irrational, as Starfleet inevitably deemed us ex-Maquis as 'competent', and let us off the hoof. But I worried, nonetheless.

Debriefings consumed almost all my waking moments, and as the strain began to take it's toll, so too did Seven's company. We'd been arguing non-stop ever since we'd arrived in the Alpha Quadrant, and I was too tired to put up much of a fight. We drifted apart, and our relationship came undone little by little. I can't say I cared much-shortly before we'd gotten home, I realized that Seven most certainly wasn't the one. She had been a welcome distraction, after years of loneliness. It was rather selfish of me to use her, I know, but nobody's perfect...

I found myself a place to live, a quaint bungalow on the outskirts of San Francisco, and tried to distance myself from Seven. It was for the best, because she'd made it clear I was no longer welcome. I could understand that, and so I complied. Despite my obvious distance from Kathryn, however, I still longer to see her. A part of me wanted to confess everything, to apologise profusely and to admit my love. But I resisted, telling myself that she had probably moved on, or worse still contacted Mark. My doubts won me over, and I tried not to wince every time her name came up in the debriefings.

I visited Tom and B'Elanna regularly, determined to maintain our friendship. Miral was growing up so fast, it was amazing. On her first birthday, B'Elanna arranged a party which was also a sort of get-together. All the senior staff were invited, and I reluctantly agreed to attend. It wasn't as if I was afraid of seeing Her again, I just dreaded Her reaction to me. Would She ignore me? Or perhaps she would confront me, dredge up the past and demand answers I could not give. I felt honour-bound to go, as Miral was very special to me. Besides, B'Elanna would be hurt if her life-long friend didn't show up. So I went.

The party itself was enjoyable. I re-established friendships which had been ended suddenly upon our arrival home. It hadn't been intentional, but the way things had gone had led to Voyager's once closely-knit crew disbanding to accommodate families and broken ties. Every had someone left behind.

It was only when I saw Kathryn arriving that I began to regret coming. She entered the room quietly, and I turned to meet Her gaze. Her eyes, Her beautiful eyes, were unusually wary as she surveyed the gathering. She was wearing a long, shimmering dress, midnight blue and every bit as regal as befitted a Captain. I was mesmerised.

Harry, of course, approached Her like an eager puppy, asked how She was, how Her family was. She smiled, and told him that everything was great, it was good to see him again. Just then, She looked away from the young Ensign and our gazes locked. It was only an instant, but my soul shook. All the feelings which had built up over the months, all the unspoken words; they condensed into that gaze glance we shared, but for some reason it was only I that comprehended them. Kathryn looked away, Her face slightly flushed, and left me feeling utterly alone. I knew then that she was hurt, and anything which came to pass now would only serve to worsen the situation. I wept inside, and left the party earlier than planned.

When I reached my silent sanctuary, my home away from everything, I wanted to die. There was nothing worth living for now; "All is nothing therefore nothing must end". The vultures circled around my soul, and for a while it seemed that the only comfort available to me was a song I had heard at B'Elanna's party, a song which I whispered internally like a mantra:

I'm not sure how long I spent wallowing in my own hopelessness-it could have been a week, it could have been a month-but when Tom called to find out why I'd been so scarce lately, he didn't know what to think. There I was, sitting cross-legged on the floor with tears pouring down my cheeks and my belongings strewn about the place in a fit of mis-directed rage. I never even noticed him entering the room-my despair was absolute. Tome roused me from my almost-slumber, and over the next few days I recovered what was left of myself. I told them about my decent into darkness, and how I had tried in vain to show Kathryn how I felt. B'Elanna listened intently, and confessed she hadn't really noticed any significant changes in the Captain's behaviour.

"She was quiet, but not that much. And she left last," she said, then added, "Then again Captain Janeway's never been one to display her feelings to the world. I'll look into it for you, Chakotay."

I nodded silently, and wondered if I'd been right to confide in her. How could B'Elanna help with something she didn't truly understand? I was passing my burdens onto my friends, and that made me a user. A lonely, pathetic user who couldn't solve the problems he had created.

B'Elanna's efforts to infiltrate Kathryn's icy exterior proved useless. After years of bottling up feelings for the crew's benefit, how could I have expected otherwise? It was, as Seven would say, a futile endeavour. Eventually, I accepted Her absence, and began to function somewhat normally. I was offered a teaching position in Starfleet, and gradually my thoughts became focused on living one day at a time. My inner self, however, was not left unscathed;my soul was bruised, and required some time to heal, but I was afraid to face my Spirit Guide. Scared to admit to myself that I had failed. I stopped trying, and soon I had pushed all thoughts of Vision Quests and self-help to the very back of my mind.

I never meant for it to happen this way, but I was too proud to do otherwise. My way of coping with my loss was to remove all traces of Her from my life-I tore up pictures, deleted messages and buried the past like a coward. People began to notice my absence from various gatherings, and more than once I had to tell a 'white lie' to divert the unwelcome worries of crewmen. Isolated and bitter, I deterred good intentions and wallowed in my own self-loathing.

There were nights when my guilt became too much for me, and I came close to making that all-important call;first contact, in a way. I never did it though, never had the guts to do it...What could Kathryn possibly feel for me after years of avoiding Her except hate? I was supposed to be Her First Officer, Her Angry Warrior...Her Chakotay. I had let her down, and in doing so broken a promise whispered during our stay on New Earth. Those nights usually ended in tears-tears of sadness, and tears of frustration.

One particularly dismal morning at 0530, I was roused by the beep of my console. Who would send a message at this hour of the morning? I wearily pressed the necessary buttons, and the message materialised.

At that, the veil lifted from my eyes and realisation crashed down upon me like a raging torrent of pain. By withdrawing completely from Her life, I had only served to worsen Her abandonment, and now for the second time, I hadn't been there when She needed me. Numb, I travelled to the hospital, hoping against hope I could right the wrongs I had selfishly created. Spirits, Kathryn, please forgive me!

Everywhere I looked, I say Her. The world screamed Her name and I felt it. The normally plain white walls of the corridors echoed her purity, the eerie silence Her patience. I had been forced to open my eyes, and embrace the feelings which had remained dormant for so long. Too long.

The room was dark. I opened the door hesitantly, and upon sighting B'Elanna, Tom, Harry and Tuvok I stepped inside. And there She was, my Kathryn, still as beautiful as they day I first saw Her. I approached the bed, laid my hand on hers, murmured sweet assurances which She couldn't hear, and began to cry.

A week later, I watched as they lowered Her into the earth. I was dumbstruck, couldn't believe it was happening, and wanted to wake up. Starfleet searched and found no trace of the killers, but promised me that 'every effort would be made to bring those responsible to justice'. As if that would ease my pain.

I never meant for it to happen this way, why did it have to end so suddenly? Why hadn't I been allowed the chance to apologise? I felt at a loss. Deserted by the Spirits, and longing for a second chance. The crew gathered to mourn the loss of their Captain, and paid their respects to the woman who had gotten them home safely.

But, as other began to move on, the world turned it's back on the late Kathryn Janeway, and she became yet another 'honoured Captain'. I couldn't grasp why people just let Her go, went on with their lives as if She was still a part of it. I visited Her grave regularly, watched the stone become weathered and world-weary. I made sure that it was perfect, as Kathryn had always been. A queen who went unnoticed in the maze of life, and lay sleeping now on a hill which was forgotten by most. But not by me.

People passed by, and wondered at the strange man who stood on the hill beside an old grave, his eyes shedding a myriad of tears for somebody they couldn't remember.

I let them look, barely noticing their worried glances. Starfleet had made Her grave as standard as they went, and I hated them for it. Kathryn was not and had never been just a number, and surely deserved more respect than this?!

And so I plan, my head awash with images of roses, white ones I think. White roses, enough to cover the entire grave, and a single line of red ones, to mark Her apart from other people, to show that She were always more to me than a Captain. You were my heart, Kathryn, my heart and soul. And one day I will make you a proper grave, to make them see you for what you truly are: a Queen.