I can't forget, I'm drowning in these memories

[chakotay]

When; Morning and then evening
Rating; PG-13 for now
Characters; Chakotay and Kathryn Janeway
Summary; Chakotay has a very unpleasant morning surprise and then takes it upon himself to make Kathryn's life just a little bit better here.
Log;


Chakotay woke as he had every morning since arriving here in the City: early, but not particularly well-rested. He had a lot on his mind. Part of that was worry for Kathryn, but when wasn't he worried about Kathryn? She seemed to have taken it as a personal challenge to get him to stand on edge more often, just as he had taken it as a personal challenge to get her to relax for even an hour out of a day. He'd gotten his wish during Ginny's party. Now it seemed she would be getting the answer to her challenge.

At first, everything was normal. He rose, dressed, and was preparing to get ready for the day in the bathroom when he first looked into a mirror and noticed that something was off. For a moment, he couldn't place what it was. But then he turned his head and ice settled into his stomach, like a fist ready to pull the organ right out of his body.

His tattoo was gone. The one defining feature, and arguably the most important one, about him... suddenly wasn't there.

He blinked. And then he moved to find another mirror, to deny this could have happened. But every mirror he ran to showed the same thing. His face was clear of any marks. The mark of his tribe was gone and with it Chakotay felt as though he had lost his identity. Leaning on the kitchen table, he gripped its edge with strong fingers. This couldn't have happened. How could his tattoo be gone? It was so important to him. What was he to do without that connection to his father, to his past? And with his struggle to relax enough to contact his spirit guide, he didn't even have that to go to.

So he did the next best thing and started shadowboxing in the small living quarters. Maybe that would calm him down enough to focus on the day.


-------

Later that night, he decided since he really owed Kathryn for agreeing to attend Ginny's party and putting up with him that morning, he would let her collect on that debt. The least he could do was make her dinner. So, he got to work preparing her favorite dish. With a little luck, she would be busy enough to come back after he'd finished, but he wouldn't count on his luck lasting that long. With a small smile, he spared a glance at the door, finally feeling a little more back to normal. Or as normal as life got here in the City.

Comments

[chakotay]

At least he had the grace to shoot her an apologetic look after the bathtub comment. He was tired of that line she'd dug into Voyager's flooring five years ago. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't toe it this much. The dance had been close enough. There was no need to come closer to pushing her towards something she very obviously didn't want.

Or did she? He had never quite made up his mind about her feelings towards him, settling somewhere along the line on "complicated." It seemed to say everything there was to say.

"Being in the City might be." But being near me went unspoken for the moment. "If you're hungry, it's all ready to be eaten. If not... it'll save." He would be disappointed, but it was her choice.

It was always her choice. Even when he felt a piece of him die every day the space between them grew, it was still her choice. He couldn't force that from her and he knew the more someone pushed her about something, the more she would push back in the opposite direction. And the last thing he wanted was to scare her off.

A part of him desperately wanted to admit what was going on, the turmoil waking up to that surprise had tossed him into, but he was finding it more and more difficult to be open about personal things like this with a person who refused to do him the same courtesy. He was her First Officer, after all, and it seemed that was all she would ever see him as. Instead of allowing someone to help her through the events of the last few months -- the last few years, even -- Kathryn had walled herself away. With B'Elanna firmly in the Delta Quadrant, Chakotay found himself left with Kathryn, a woman he cared for very deeply and who, with each day that passed, found new and exciting ways to keep him firmly on the other side of a barrier that grew exponentially every time he turned around. Maybe the dance had weakened that barrier just a little, but it would never make up for the strength it endured.

And so, with all that in mind, he offered Kathryn a smile, one that he hoped would dispel her questions about him, even as he knew that would only delay the inevitable.

[directives]

She would argue that being near me point, countering it with Tuvok's brand of logic, a need to stick together, and a desire not to aggravate herself further by continuing to reside with a bunch of officers from an alternate timeline a good century in the past. It was complicated, and something she would likely never stop and give much serious thought to. Perhaps that was unfair to both of them, but it was her choice to make and being here didn't change the fact that she was still his captain and Starfleet would never approve for a multitude of reasons.

Relenting for the second time this week (that had to be a new record), Kathryn moved to the table and sat down, waiting it absolute silence. She was quiet, but at least she was still there. Back on Voyager, she would've already been out the door.

[chakotay]

Well, it was a start. Chakotay sighed softly to himself before he moved around to place the various serving dishes on the table. Plates and utensils followed and though they weren't anything to really scream about as far as looks, they were something. He was, as he'd done back on New Earth, only trying to make it easier on both of them to live in this new and strange world. For however long they were stuck here, permanent or not, Chakotay wanted them -- Kathryn especially -- to be as comfortable as possible.

Which, he realized, was difficult with how he was acting, but then it had been difficult the first time around as well.

Taking his own seat, he offered her first choice of dishes, contemplating what had been going on lately. A thousand thoughts flitted through his head and so, in the effort of not losing contact and letting this be a silent meal, he spoke the first one that stuck.

"This is the first time since I got it that I haven't had it." His tattoo, he meant. "I don't understand how something that's such a distinct part of me could be taken and given to someone else."

An almost clinical observation of what was going on. They could start with that and see what the rest of the conversation held, couldn't they?