Title: Saints, Lost and Found

Author: Diana Forester (dianaforester@hotmail.com)

Rating: G

Disclaimer: These Characters are not mine

Spoilers: Hunters

Category: J/C

Author’s Note: Much thanks to Dawn and AnneRose for Instant!Beta

Summery: Day 6 of Haven’s 8 Days Of Valentine’s Day Project

 

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,

 

            Chakotay looked up from his PADD with a sigh.  It had been three days since he’d received news from the alpha quadrant about the end of the Maquis.  For three days he’d thought of nothing but the destruction of his comrades, the terror they must have felt, and the injustice of it all.  He’d tried contacting his spirit guide but to no avail.  Duty helped some, as had his sail with Kathryn, but always the feelings came back, especially at night.

            It was well past midnight now, and he had the early shift in the morning, but still his mind raced, keeping him awake.  He knew it was only a matter of time before his newfound insomnia started to affect his performance, but he was at a loss about what to do about it.  He was as close as a counsellor on board Voyager, the other Maquis needed to see his example.  Kathryn had received her own bad news and needed his support.  He couldn’t very well break down and expect the rest of them to keep going.  Voyager could ill afford twenty grieving crewmen at the best of times.  Now, with a potential new enemy on the hunt, it was more important than ever that the crew stay focused.  

            In frustration, Chakotay dropped his head into his hands.  The feeling of loss and emptiness was pervasive.  He couldn’t fill the wound, couldn’t staunch the flow of blood from the gouge.  The piece that had been torn away was too important, too vital for him to continue. 

            In his state of defeat and loss, it was amazing that he heard the door chime.  It was nothing short of miraculous that he managed to lift his head and mask the pain in his voice as he called out: “Come in.”

            Janeway saw the hunched shoulders and the circles under his eyes immediately.  She’d known he was in pain, but was still shocked at the way it had been inscribed on his body.  She hesitated for a moment, before speaking quietly. “I thought you could use a friend.”

            His head dropped again at once.  He had neither the energy nor the inclination to keep pretending that he was okay.  He waited to be chastised for not talking to her, or for not setting a better role model for the others, or for loosing control, or for some other crime.  Heaven knew he was guilty of something.  He’d committed the same acts as his comrades, and they’d paid with their lives.  Surely he owed something.  A pound of flesh at least. 

            He waited for the biting words, but instead felt a pressure on the couch beside him, followed by her arms encircling him.  He’d never known how strong she was until she pulled him close.  And then she pulled him tighter, as if she were trying to draw water from the lungs of a drowning man.  Instead, she brought forth sobs.  Small at first, then fierce, body shaking gasps. 

            Neither knew how long they stayed like that, Kathryn holding his head to her breast, stroking his hair, while he clung to her fiercely.  After a time he calmed, slowly lifting his head to look into the eyes of his saviour.  He discovered then that she too, had been crying. 

            “Why are you crying?” he asked in wonder.

            “Because you’re in pain.”

            For the first time in three days, he felt his heart warmed.  Letting slip a few final tears, he whispered, “I love you.”

            She kissed the top of his head and returned in kind, “I love you too.”

            As seemed to him that her words found their way into his body, plugging the hole and easing the pain.  He let her guide him down onto the couch to lay with her.  “Thank you,” he whispered, before drifting off to sleep.

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