Hurting

The sun was shining brightly that beautiful summer day. The leaves were rustling with a light breeze and birds were hopping from one branch to the other, singing their songs loudly into the sky. She walked through the alley, searching for a certain house. She wasn't even sure which one she was searching for, wouldn't be able to tell even when she was standing right in front of it, but she had been told she would find him in between the trees. She felt the sunrays warming her face, almost able to feel the freckles appear on her skin. She wrinkled her nose, willing them to go away again.

She found herself stopping in the middle of the road, facing upwards towards the sun. Her eyes were closed as she focused on the sensations her senses brought to her. While holding her sandals in her right hand, she felt the warm pavement under her bare feet.

The wind was playing with her hair and tugged at her emerald green dress. It felt refreshing. A pleasant contrast to the warm sun. The air smelled flowery, full of promise, somehow.

As she stood there, she knew she was doing the right thing.

She felt eyes staring at her, and opened hers to glance at whoever was destroying this scene. Blue met brown, as an old woman looked back at her.

"I know you," the woman croaked.

"Pardon me?" She asked confused.

"You are that woman. His woman. That Captain person," the woman walked up towards her and prodded her as if to make a point.

Kathryn backed away a little. "Where is he?" She finally managed to ask.

"It's the house with strange flowers in the garden," Kathryn looked down at the fingers that had crawled around her arm. They were darkened with soil.

"I will find it," Kathryn agreed, desperately trying to get away from the women's scrutinizing stare. It seemed that she was trying to tell Kathryn that she'd better not mess up again. What was to come had to be done the right way and it had to last.

Don't you dare hurt him again, the woman's eyes screamed at her.

Suppressing a shudder, Kathryn nodded at her, excusing herself before she hurried away.

She stopped in front of what was obviously his place. The flowers in the garden screamed Delta Quadrant. Kathryn wondered how he had done it. How had he managed to get them past all those Starfleet watchdogs?

She might just have to talk to him about that. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep her heart from thumping any faster. It felt as though it wanted to jump out of her body, while her stomach seemed to have a life of his own. One moment it felt like a ton of butterflies had taken permanent residence and the next moment they were gone - replaced by an uncomfortable clenching.

She held onto the small wooden gate as she desperately tried to regain her usually calm stance. Now, when she needed it the least, she became one giddy something. Come to think about it, it was depressing.

Trying to get a hold of her feelings, she opened the gate and began to walk along the small path that led to the small cottage. It lay hidden behind some trees. Hadn't it been for the strange flora and the seemingly out of place white picket fence, Kathryn would have never assumed someone lived hidden in the depths of what seemed like a jungle.

As she left the alley behind, she seemed to enter a different world. She could hear the faint whisper of a river nearby, giving the scenery a peacefulness that seemed to settle in her heart, quieting it into a steady beating. She felt as if she had been thrown back in time to the lonely planet where they had been the only human beings.

And then, she felt him. He was standing near his little house, carving something. He hadn't seen her yet, for his back was turned towards her. But judging by the way he suddenly halted his steady attack on the wood, he had felt her presence as well. But still, he refused to turn around. Kathryn wondered if that was a bad sign.

"Hello, Chakotay," she managed to whisper, loud enough for him to hear.

He then turned around to face her. "Kathryn," he nodded.

"You disappeared," Kathryn noted, eyeing him carefully.

"I did," he held her gaze, daring her to look away with a twinkle in his eyes. He liked that game.

Kathryn came to the conclusion that two could play this game, and decided that she would not be the first to break the eye contact. "Why did you disappear?" She challenged him. Her eyes showed him how important this was to her.

"I felt like leaving everything behind. To start a new quiet life without . . ." he began.

"Me," she concluded. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here," she suddenly wanted to turn around and run as fast as she could, but being her usual stubborn self she remembered she had vowed not to be the one to break their gaze.

Chakotay noticed the emotions crossing her features, sadness seemed to be the most prominent one. "Maybe," he offered. "Maybe I wanted to see if I could live without you. Maybe you should have let it be. I cannot be your friend, Kathryn. It hurts too much," he sighed, still holding her gaze.

Were there tears welling up in her eyes? Chakotay couldn't be sure. Maybe he was just imagining things. "I should go," Kathryn said. Her voice seemed to be shaking with emotions.

"No," he insisted. "No. We should talk about this. Don't flee again, Kathryn."

"Inside?" She asked, tilting her head slightly to the direction of the cot, her eyes never leaving his.

"No, we can talk here," He said, gesturing towards the terrace. They both sat next to each other, careful not to touch the other one. Their eyes had finally left one another. Kathryn couldn't tell which one of them had broken the contact, maybe they both had at the same time.

Instead she was staring into a bed of flowers in front of her. "Talk," she challenged him. "What have you been doing the time after we got home?"

"A lot," he answered, "I decided that living alone, away from civilization had its pros and cons, but ultimately the pros won. And I stayed."

"Will you stay forever?" She asked.

"As it looks now - yes, I will," he answered. "It is a nice way of eluding reality and all the problems it brings."

"Why?" Kathryn asked again.

"A long time ago I let a woman slice my heart in two," he answered. "She left the knife right there, twisting it whenever she had the opportunity. I decided that I couldn't survive any more of that."

Kathryn gulped. She knew exactly whom he was talking about. Guilt washed over her, clenching at her heart. Kathryn was sorry for behaving the way she had. Sorry didn't even begin to describe how bad she felt.

"What if I told you that it hurt her as much as it hurt you?" She tried.

"Then why did you do it?" He asked as he turned towards her. She was afraid to look into his eyes now, afraid of what emotions were waiting for her. Did he really hate her? "Look at me, Kathryn," his voice ordered and she obeyed, reluctantly. "Why?" He repeated.

It took all her strength not to burst into tears that moment. She considered her words for a moment, then gulped. When she finally spoke, her voice was shaking with the emotions she held back. "Because I loved you too much." She had finally said it. "It's the same reason I will leave you now. I love you too much. If I had ever let myself consume this love, there would have been no turning back, no going back to just friends. I had no choice, Chakotay. I feared losing my first officer and best friend if the relationship fell apart." There. She had said it. Maybe brutal honesty would work with him.

As she got no reply, she got up again, slowly walking the path that led back into reality. She had almost reached the fence when his voice filtered through to her. "No."

Stopping dead in her tracks she turned around. "Come back," where his next words. She closed her eyes, briefly, to gather her strength.

And then she was by his side in an instant. She didn't even remember going back to him.

In fact, Kathryn was working on auto-pilot, her mind a jumble of questions. Why had he called her back? Did he understand? Did he just want to have the last word? She found that she didn't know. She didn't know anything, and his expression gave nothing away. All he did was sit and stare at her, as though she was something of an enigma to him.

The silence was unnerving. Kathryn would have liked to break it, but she couldn't get her voice to obey. And what was she to say anyway? She'd told him everything he needed to know. Now it was entirely up to him to make the next move, no matter the outcome.

When Chakotay eventually spoke, it caught her by surprise and she jumped, her eyes locking with his of their own volition. "Why do you always flee, Kathryn?"

It was a clear challenge. She could either be straightforward and honest, or deny it. Part of her wanted to deny it, actually, wanted to tell him that she'd never been a coward. Would it be the truth, though? Partially. It just wouldn't apply to personal affairs.

"Because I'm a coward." There, she had said it. She searched his eyes for any indication if that had been enough of an explanation. Of course, he wanted more. She sighed, as he tilted his head slightly, encouraging her to go on.

She gathered all her strength to find the courage to say what she needed to say next. "I have lost every man in my life that I have ever let close to me. That might sound like a cliché, but it's part of the reason why I always flee as soon as someone, namely you, gets too close to me. I flee because I am afraid to lose you. I also flee because I hate to lose control, and with you, I would. I am a control freak. That's what made me Captain of Voyager. And I don't know- Maybe I should stop thinking with my head and start listening to my heart. But it's so hard."

The next few moments seemed to stretch into infinity. Kathryn didn't even dare breathe as she kept searching his face for any reaction.

"Sit down," Chakotay said softly, and grasped her hand. "Before you fall over." A gentle tug was all it took to have her obey, and she slumped down beside him. He could see that she was at loose ends; that admission must have cost her a lot. Gone was the air of authority about her that he was so used to. Now she looked for all the world like a child that didn't know whether it was going to be reprimanded or forgiven.

After watching her for a while, he decided to relieve the tension a little. "Kathryn, you look like you could use some coffee. What do you think?" he asked, watching her carefully.

Kathryn lifted her head to look at him after a while. She was unsure of what was to come next. What was he aiming at? But nevertheless, Kathryn Janeway, in whatever emotional state, was not one to say no to a cup of coffee. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards to a tiny smile, as she forced her head to nod.

Chakotay smiled back at her as he got up. He reached for her hand and pulled her to him, leading her into the small cottage.

Except that it didn't look so small from the inside. Kathryn was being led into a large room that seemed to serve as both living room and workshop. The panorama window at the far off side allowed the evening sun to cast a gentle glow at the oversized leather couch. Additionally, it provided an amazing view at the back-yard. To her left there was a very solid looking working table, carving tools scattered all over it.

Following her gaze, Chakotay caught sight of the chaos, and sheepishly went off to clean up the mess somewhat. "I wasn't exactly expecting company," he offered by way of explanation, as though Kathryn had in any way complained.

Yet, despite the obvious chaos, she was far more captivated by the half-finished sand painting that he'd apparently worked on last. If she were to hazard a guess, she'd say it was something abstract, but it was the harmony of colors that really struck her. It had to be one of the most beautiful works of art she'd ever seen and she told him so.

Time and again, Kathryn was fascinated by the way his ears turned red and his grin sheepish when he was embarrassed. He'd never been easily acceptant of compliments, but she felt the strange need to make him believe her. "I'm serious, Chakotay. It may not be finished yet, but it's already fantastic. Did you do any more?"

Chakotay had long stopped trying to bring some kind of order into the jumble of tools, and simply gestured across the room. "Since we were originally headed for the kitchen and the room is full of these, you can keep right on embarrassing me," he grinned.

Kathryn barely managed to repress the urge to slap him.

She grinned at him and made her way to the kitchen. Jumping from foot to foot might be a more accurate description, since the floor was scattered with various items, ranging from clothes and shoes to paintings and what Kathryn realized with a broad grin, coffee mugs.

Stopping briefly to smell at one of them, her suspicion was verified. Coffee. She cast him a glance. "Coffee?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in astonishment. "You actually succumbed to the dark side?"

"Oh come on, Kathryn," he offered with a sheepish grin. "You were the one who always insisted we had a cup or two. Naturally, I became addicted." He gave her a mock glare. "All your fault."

Kathryn shook her head and paused. It was strange just how easy they fell into that old patterns of playful banter and teasing. It felt refreshing, yet it struck Kathryn as something very special.

"Now, do you want that coffee or not?" Chakotay asked. "I don't quite believe sniffing this cup forever will be a sufficient replacement."

Kathryn glared at him, as she let the coffee cup drop back to its previous place. "Kitchen it is," she grinned, as she hopped her way into the kitchen, managing to get there in one piece without bumping her toes against any of the obstacles.

Chakotay was not that lucky. By the time he got into the kitchen he was hopping on one food, holding the other one with his hands. Only now did Kathryn realize that he wore neither shoes nor socks.

"Sit down," she ordered, as she gestured towards what seemed to be a chair. He looked helplessly at her as he took in the state of the chair. Rolling her eyes, she carefully took the sand painting and rested it against the table. He hadn't been joking. The kitchen was even worse than the living room. Most beautiful sand paintings were leaning against shelves, the table, chairs. They were everywhere.

"Chakotay, I never realized you were such an untidy person," she grinned, trying to find the replicator. It was buried underneath a particularly big painting. Her eyes lit up as she asked the computer for two cups of coffee. Handing one to him, she breathed the scent in deeply.

"I am hurt," he muttered, only half-serious.

Kathryn, who had placed her coffee cup in his other hand, was busy disposing of empty mugs and plates, placing them one by one into the replicator and watching them dematerialise. "Don't be such a baby, Chakotay," she answered, never once looking at him.

"Here we go again," he said quietly. "You're taking charge and ordering me around."

Kathryn froze, almost dropping the various cups she was about to recycle. For just a few moments, she'd been too distracted by the cottage and everything, thus had forgotten the delicate nature of her visit and just how thin the ice on which she was treading was.

Very slowly she put down the cups and turned to face him. "Is that what's bothering you? What's been bothering you perhaps even all the time?"

"Yes and no, in that order," Chakotay replied. Sighing, he tried to find the right words to make her understand, to clarify his short answer. "It's not been bothering me all the time, Kathryn. If it had, I wouldn't have been able to serve under you as your First Officer," he explained, rubbing a hand over his face. He suddenly felt very old, and more importantly, very tired of side-stepping questions in order to pacify someone else. "It does bother me with regard to my private life, though."

"This isn't something I can switch on and off, Chakotay. It's part of who I am, I thought you knew that."

"I'm not asking you to change yourself, I'm telling you that it makes me feel as though the old rules still apply, even now, even though we're no longer in a command structure. And I never claimed I liked the old rules."

"Well . . . whoa," Kathryn said, feeling rather weak all of a sudden. Carefully putting another sand painting aside, she sat down on the nearest chair before her knees could give way under her. "I'm not sure what to say to this. If you're not asking me to change, as you say, what do you expect from me, then?"

"A little consideration. I'm quite aware that you're very much used to taking charge. It's what you've been trained for, what you've been doing, out of necessity, for these past seven years. But that's not how relationships work, Kathryn. If you want to give this -- us -- a chance, you've got to stop treating me like a subordinate."

For several long moments, Kathryn was rendered completely speechless. Could he be right? Had she never stopped seeing him as her First Officer? It was possible, she had to admit. Problem was, she'd never even realized she'd been doing it, but now that she thought about it . . .

"I . . . see your point," she offered, rubbing her temple with her hand to smooth the lines that had formed there while she had been pondering his words. "And I think you might be right. Chakotay, I never realized," Kathryn sighed. "I just never realized." She buried her face in her hands as her voice grew barely audible.

Chakotay believed her. It all came so naturally to her that she never gave the way in which she treated him any second thought. He tried to resist the urge to close the distance in between them and to gather her in his arms, tell her that he loved her and that everything was alright, when a movement caught the corner of his eyes. As his head swung to face her, he realized that Kathryn had suddenly straightened and her eyes had met his.

"Chakotay. You were never just a subordinate to me. Never ever," she insisted, her eyes telling him that it was the truth. "I apologize if I made you believe you were, if I treated you in any way as if you were inferior to me, if that's the right choice of words. I never once thought of you in that way. You are my equal, Chakotay. You are a part of who I am."

He sat and gaped at her, his knuckles turning white with the pressure he put on the desk beside him. "I'm what?" The question sounded slightly stupid, and he knew it. Then again, he felt more than slightly stupid at that moment, undoubtedly due to his staring at her in amazed disbelief.

Kathryn willed herself not to break eye contact, though the need to do just that nearly overwhelmed her. But she'd been brutally honest with him all day, and didn't intend to stop now. If nothing else, her sheer stubbornness didn't permit that. "You heard me, and I'm serious. I'm most certainly not the same person I was seven years ago. Sure, I'm still pretty stubborn and a coffee addict," she allowed with a small smile, "but some things just never change. Others do," she added, serious once again. "You taught me a great many things, Chakotay, both about myself and those around me. You are part of who I am."

"Well . . . whoa," he echoed her words from earlier, then looked down at his bare foot. "It's still hurting."

Kathryn's eyebrows shot up in confusion. "What?"

"My foot," Chakotay clarified, his expression deadpan. "It's still hurting."

"Let me get this straight," she said very slowly. "I'm trying my damnedest to be honest with you, because that is how relationships work, and you're telling me your foot is still hurting?" Her face fell. "Okay, I guess this was a bad idea. I'd better be going." For some strange reason, she actually took the time to recycle her cup of coffee first before she headed across the room, passing by him.

Chakotay's right hand snatched forward when she was directly beside him, catching her wrist and pulling her towards him. "I didn't say you should be going, now did I?" It clearly was a rhetorical question, and she answered with a glare. Which didn't deter him. In the slightest. "In fact, I was going to suggest moving someplace comfortable like the couch, especially if you'd be willing to massage my foot. After all, I am supposed to be spending hours on my feet later on, right? Knowing your cooking skills . . . or lack thereof."

Kathryn appeared to be thinking about it, brows furrowed, but she didn't struggle against his hold on her in the least. On the contrary, he'd barely seen her so relaxed. "Are you inviting me to stay for dinner?"

"No. I'm inviting you to stay forever," he said, discharging his dimples.

"Okay." Looking at the hand that was still holding her wrist, she said, "Now didn't you say something about getting more comfortable?" Inside, she fought a battle against the broad grin that tugged at her lips. Naturally, she lost and slowly, ever so slowly, the right corner of her mouth tugged upwards, soon followed by the left until it was spread in a wide grin that seemed to be growing wider and wider.

Chakotay remembered only seeing this smile once before, as he looked into her beautiful eyes that seemed to be shining with happiness as she met his glance. A tear seemed to form, or did he imagine that? Before long he saw that he had been right, as she blinked it away. Slowly, it trailed down her cheek. Immediately breaking eye contact, he pulled her head down towards him to kiss it away.

A shudder of pure pleasure went through Kathryn's body, and she involuntarily closed her eyes. Then, her impatience getting the better of her, she turned her head a little so that his lips would have to meet hers. She'd been waiting a long time for this moment, too long.

That was all the encouragement Chakotay needed. With a little tug he caused her to lose balance and fall into his lap. That position was far better suited to thoroughly explore the warmth of her mouth.

"Chakotay?" she murmured against his mouth, eyes still closed in bliss.

He didn't manage more than an inarticulate "hmm", too caught up in the sensation. The things she could do with her tongue were shutting his brain down.

"This chair is gonna -" Kathryn was cut off by the sound of something cracking, followed by a resounding thud. "- break," she finished with a chuckle.

"You know," he grinned at her, his thumb continuing the exploration of her mouth while he was talking. "At the rate we're going, I'll be done for by dinner time. Since you've come here, I hurt my toe and my butt. What's next? My neck?"

"Poor baby," Kathryn purred, sucking his thumb into her mouth and releasing it again. "Let me kiss it better."

"Great, now I'm sure. You are going to kill me," Chakotay groaned half-heartedly.

"Why's that?" Kathryn smiled innocently. He took her hand, gesturing for her to get up, which she did. She then helped him up after her and found herself being scooped up in his arms immediately. "I thought you were hurt," she added wryly.

"Not that hurt," he offered, as he carried her into yet another room, doing his best not to fall over another obstacle.

She made a fair guess as to where he was heading when she saw the gleam in his eyes. "You know, Chakotay, you will have to clean the house before anything else, don't you?"

THE END

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