Dangerous Meditations

He saw blood and storms and death. He felt despair, a presence that was achingly cold, freezing his veins, slowing his heart, ripping, tearing, shredding....

Chakotay jerked awake with a violence that mirrored his dreams. He sat straight up, then had to grab the edge of the biobed to keep from tumbling to the floor. His head spun and his arms trembled from weariness. It took three deep breaths to regain even a portion of his equilibrium. By then, the doctor had noticed his movement.

Ah, Commander, you're awake.

Disoriented and afraid, Chakotay had trouble placing the voice until the doctor came into view from around the corner of Sickbay that led to his office. The doctor grinned, glad to see his patient alert, but Chakotay couldn't find the energy to respond with a smile of his own. The images from his recent dream were still too strong.

He took several more deep breaths, and the images slowly released their hold on him and began to disappear. His heartbeat was less erratic. He was able to look around Sickbay without feeling the need to be ready to run at a moment's notice. Gradually, the effects of the dream wore off.

He rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair, but the action only made him aware that every part of his body ached. Groggy, his voice slurred, he asked, What happened?

You tell me. The doctor regarded him with a look of impressed concern. You've been asleep for the entire day. I didn't even need to administer a sedative. In fact --

Chakotay cut him off. Amazed, he questioned, I missed a whole day?

The doctor tilted his head in acknowledgment. You missed more than that, Commander.

What do you mean?

The doctor took out a tricorder and administered a quick scan as he talked. Apparently you missed the senior staff briefing --

Chakotay's startled actions cut him off again. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed, but the doctor put a surprisingly strong hand on his shoulder to stop him.

Take it easy, Commander. You're not strong enough to go anywhere.

But the briefing! Chakotay said impatiently. I'll be late! I was meditating... it must be time for --

The doctor halted his words when he gently explained, Commander, you meditated through yesterday's briefing.

Chakotay was stunned. His mind turned and whirled and tried to grasp what the doctor was saying, but he couldn't quite make the connections that was necessary for him to understand. If he had missed the briefing scheduled for the day before, that must mean he had meditated throughout an entire night....

Yesterday's? he was forced to ask for confirmation.

The doctor nodded. And if I have my way, you'll be missing several more. Your system suffered a shock, and it's going to take some time before you're fully recovered.

Recovered from what?

That put a halt to the doctor's advice. You don't remember?

Chakotay paused, searching his memory. What had he been doing? Meditating, he'd automatically said a moment ago. Meditating about what...? Then it all returned in a flash.

Tuvok! he said immediately, and searched wide-eyed across the empty Sickbay. Is he all right? I felt him --

Mr Tuvok is fine, the doctor assured. He was momentarily weakened by his mental contact with your visions, but he recovered quickly. My concern is for you. You were exhausted and severely dehydrated when you arrived in Sickbay, to say nothing of your heightened brain activity. Your body was practically in a coma, but your brain was ready to take on the entire Borg Collective. The doctor's lips twisted in frustration. I only wish I could explain your condition.

That confession frightened Chakotay as much as his recent dreams. If the doctor didn't know what had happened to him, how was he supposed to keep it from happening again? Did that mean the next time he needed to meditate, he might get lost in his vision again, unable to get out? You don't have any ideas? he asked, needing to hear something more reassuring, needing comfort, like a child.

The doctor's brows rose. Perhaps it would help if I knew what transpired to facilitate your condition. Are you certain you don't recall anything that happened?

Chakotay expelled a sigh as the doctor's words helped to calm his initial reaction so that he could concentrate on what he did remember. He had a hard time separating what he'd seen in his vision quests from the horrible images of his recent dream. The two were disturbingly similar. I do remem --

*Janeway to Sickbay.*

The captain's hail halted Chakotay's description of his visions, but hearing her voice jogged a new memory; she had been with him when he came out of his vision quest. He had barely been aware of anything at the time, but he'd known she was there, and he'd taken some amount of relief just from her presence. Then a new memory surfaced: she had caught him when he fell. A pleasant warmth flooded through him at that recollection. He fought to process that reaction before the doctor could comment on the flush that threatened to creep up his cheeks.

But the doctor was too distracted himself to pay much attention to the color of his patient's face. At Janeway's hail, he had rolled his eyes up to look at the ceiling and pursed his lips in a show of great patience. This is the doctor. He responded to the captain with far less civility than he had used while interviewing Chakotay. Captain, I thought I instructed you to get some rest.

*I slept,* she insisted.

For how long? Twenty minutes? The doctor's tone was one of severe irritation, as if he and Janeway had conducted this conversation before.

Janeway sighed over the comm channel, and the sound issued loudly in the otherwise quiet of Sickbay; her hold on her patience was obviously wearing thin as well. Chakotay felt the tension between Janeway and the doctor even through the computer; it made him think that something had happened that he didn't know about.

*Do you have anything new to report?* she asked, her tone polite and controlled.

The doctor rolled his eyes again and ground his teeth. Suddenly he issued a sigh of his own, a heavy exhalation of holographic sound signaling his reluctant surrender to the inevitable. Yes, Commander Chakotay is awake. You may as well see him now, as it's obvious you won't be getting any sleep until you do.

Her voice was still polite and carefully neutral as she said, *Thank you, Doctor. I'll be right down. Janeway out.*

The channel went dead. A quiet descended over Sickbay.

Chakotay looked at the doctor, momentarily distracted enough from his worries to give the doctor an understanding smile.

The doctor didn't smile back. I think I like her better when she's the patient; at least then I can keep an eye on her.

The captain usually doesn't need anyone to keep on eye on her, Chakotay pointed out.

The doctor scrutinized him. If you think that, then clearly we aren't talking about the same captain. Perhaps you've forgotten more than just the subject of your meditations, he suggested.

Chakotay issued another agitated sigh and rubbed his hand through his hair again. The doctor was right about the captain; Janeway had become a notorious risk taker during her time in the Delta Quadrant. He too had indulged in the habit of 'keeping an eye on her' in the past. He hadn't forgotten that much, at least. I said usually, Chakotay clarified, acceding that the doctor had a point.

The doctor went on, Her most recent behavior certainly hasn't been typical. Usually I can't keep her in Sickbay; this time I can't keep her out.

What was that supposed to mean? His nerves on edge, Chakotay couldn't help but let his imagination take over and assume that something horrible had happened to Janeway. His heart skipped a beat. What if somehow his meditations had affected her as well? The captain was with me when I came out of the vision quest, he said, searching for information by way of an explanation. I don't remember anything happening to her, but I suppose it's possible that she was influenced by some kind of aftereffects. It wasn't exactly a typical vision quest, he admitted.

The doctor's expression did not convey the same amount of concern that Chakotay had. He acerbically commented, Though I often wonder if the captain isn't suffering from unforeseen aftereffects of any number of disturbances, I doubt that she was affected by her proximity to you during your meditations. If she was, I would have noticed it by now; she's been in and out of Sickbay practically every fifteen minutes since you arrived twenty hours ago, checking up on your progress. As if I'm suddenly incapable of informing her of any new developments, he finished sarcastically.

The doctor's statement surprised Chakotay. The captain was checking on his progress? Every fifteen minutes? That had to be an exaggeration, but the doctor was right about one thing; for Captain Janeway, that was very unusual behavior! Ordinarily she would visit an injured crewman in Sickbay, ascertain what had happened, ascertain the damage, demand a diagnosis from the doctor, then depart, leaving the injured victim in the doctor's capable hands while she continued on with ship's business. Sitting with a crewmember in Sickbay was a complete deviation from her usual routine. Chakotay could recall only a few instances when she had taken the time to sit with anybody, including himself.

So what did this mean? Was he in worse shape than the doctor had indicated so far, thus explaining the captain's interest? Was she being influenced by something else and therefore couldn't help herself? But influenced by what? Or was he simply going insane and had imagined everything that had happened so far?

Given the events of the last week, Chakotay suspected that losing his sanity was far more likely than any other option.

Unless the doctor wasn't telling him everything.

Are you sure she's all right? Chakotay hesitantly asked.

The doctor's brows rose to his nonexistent hairline and a half smile quirked at the corners of his lips. That's very amusing, Commander.

What is? Chakotay's brows were drawn over his eyes in a frown.

She keeps asking the same thing about you.

Any reply Chakotay might have formulated was interrupted by the sudden swish of the Sickbay doors, the sound heralding the arrival of Captain Janeway. She strode through the doors like it was her personal mission to enter the room before anybody could stop her. Doctor, report, she called the minute her feet crossed the threshold.

The doctor sent a knowing glance towards Chakotay before he turned to address the captain. Commander Chakotay has returned to the realm of the living, he quipped unhelpfully.

Janeway positioned herself at the foot of the biobed where she could see both officers. She sent the doctor a glance of her own. I can see that, she said, her tight control still in evidence though her voice sounded tired and strained. Is there anything else you can tell us?

The doctor recognized the danger signs and reigned in his natural tendencies towards sarcasm. He turned to examine Chakotay and reported, The commander's brain activity has slowly decreased to normal levels during his bout with unconsciousness. His exhaustion and dehydration have disappeared as well, and though he appeared agitated when he first woke, he seems to have regained his normal faculties with little effort. I was about to do a complete physical, but it can wait until you're finished... talking, he ended, unable to stop a hint of banter from entering his voice. He grinned, pleased with himself.

Janeway's relief at the doctor's words was as clear as her frustration had been earlier. Her eyes went from watching the doctor to scrutinizing Chakotay. She must have accepted the doctor's analysis, for she nodded, though she continued to regard her first officer. A long moment passed in silence, and then Janeway reached out. Her hand hovered above his left knee, as if she wanted to place it there in a gesture of comfort, but wasn't sure if she should. She settled for resting her hand on the surface of the biobed only inches from where he sat.

It was an odd moment, that blink in time when her hand wavered in the air as she tried to decide something for herself, a moment full of possibilities. Chakotay watched her hand, transfixed by the shape of the nails and the curve of her fingers. Once again he saw a flashing image of her hand resting on his akoonah, her fingers so delicate and small next to his, so trusting and....

Janeway was speaking, and Chakotay shook his head to clear it of the distracting vision. I'm sorry, Captain, I was thinking. What did you say?

Janeway glanced at the doctor, a worried expression crossing her face. It was a simple question. I asked how you were feeling.

It might seem like a simple question to Janeway, but Chakotay found that he had to think about it before he could answer. He still didn't understand his visions, why his guide was doing this to him, or the reason for the repeated images of the captain's hand flashing through his mind. It seemed that after all that had happened, he should have more answers than he did. It was frustrating and irritating and inconvenient and he was tired of all of it. But that's not what he told Captain Janeway. I'm fine, I think. I feel fine.

She looked at him appraisingly. But?

He gave her a small grin; how did she do that? She had predicted that he had more to say, and knew that he needed a little prompting. I keep having these flashes, images really. I thought that maybe they would stop after so much time has passed, but.... His voice trailed off as more memories of his vision quests barraged him. He was helpless to control his mental ramblings.

Chakotay, Janeway said, pulling him out of his memories so that he would have to look at her. You've been very distracted lately. Several crewmembers have noticed it and brought their concerns to my attention; B'Elanna has been the most vocal, but Tom Paris spoke to me as well, as did Sam Wildman and Neelix. And just now... it was almost as if you were someplace else. The concern was strong in her voice.

The doctor said, If you're thinking about alien influence, Captain, I've ruled out that possibility. I've found no indication of tampering with the commander's memory engrams or evidence of another lifeform affecting his brain waves. And there is no phase variance that suggests the involvement of alternate realities or a parallel universe.

Janeway acknowledged the report with another nod, but her eyes did not leave Chakotay. I'm worried about you, Chakotay. I know you've been dealing with unsettling vision quests, and now you mention more images. Maybe it's time you talked about your visions -- She held up her hand to stop the protests that perched on the tip of his tongue. Visions are very private. I know. But you've been going on like this for days, and that's not like you. Please -- I only want to help. She still looked at him, but now a smile played across her face. And I want my first officer back.

She was teasing him into talking. And in spite of his customary wish for privacy, he wanted to talk before he even realized what was happening, just as she knew he would. She knew him well.

Maybe that was what the image of her hand meant. It wasn't part of his vision quests, but perhaps it was intended as a sign that she could help him unravel the visions. His animal guide had never used external clues before, but he supposed there was nothing stopping her from doing so.

All right, he agreed, and told them everything he could remember. The beauty, the need to share, the storm, the destruction, the despair all came alive again for him, as if retelling the events made him relive them one more time. He ceased to be aware that he was in Sickbay, that he was talking to Janeway and the doctor, or that he was talking at all. He saw only the vision world as he'd seen it dozens of times in all its manifestations. The vision's power over him didn't diminish with his revelations. The words rushed impatiently out of him now that he had decided to talk. Belatedly he thought it might have been prudent to have Tuvok's unique insights present as well, but for now he contented himself with telling his story. When he finished, neither listener said anything for several minutes.

Very curious, the doctor commented at last. I've never heard of a vision being so volatile, yet so consistent. Usually visions deal with hidden messages revealed through a hallucinogen of some kind.

The akoonah isn't hallucinogenic, Janeway muttered before Chakotay could explain that to the doctor.

The hologram nodded. I know, and that's what's so interesting about this particular vision. He turned to Chakotay. You say that at the beginning you're virtually overwhelmed by sensation and emotion.

Yes, Chakotay responded. The desire to share is stronger than anything I've felt in a vision quest before. It's not just overwhelming, it's part of what the vision is.

Janeway took up the narrative. But then it all falls in on itself, and the storm comes, destroying everything.

And then I go back to the beginning.

But not at first, Janeway said, one finger held up to emphasize her point. That only happened that night when you couldn't bring yourself out of your meditative state. Up to that point, the vision stopped after the storm.

Or even before the storm, the doctor interposed, enthusiasm creeping into his voice. Like most scientists, he enjoyed a good mystery. Perhaps the cycle of your vision continued one step further each time because something in particular hadn't happened yet.

Or because you hadn't deciphered the meaning behind the vision, Janeway said, carrying the doctor's hypothesis one step further. Her eagerness to solve this problem was building to match the doctor's enthusiasm. It was necessary to push you a little further each time you didn't signal that you understood.... She paused to ask Chakotay, Do animal guides work that way?

Slightly befuddled by the fast flow of ideas he had to keep up with, Chakotay could only shrug at first. He was still groggy enough that thinking was a chore. He hesitantly said, I suppose an animal guide is free to do whatever it takes to get its point across. But usually mine's not so enigmatic.

The doctor appeared confused. Wait a moment; animal guide? he asked.

Janeway smiled tolerantly at the doctor's question. A creature that chooses to guide someone on a quest, one that offers advice and counsel and --

And mysteries, obviously, the doctor concluded for her. He sent a look at Chakotay. Either I miss my mark, or yours is being particularly stubborn.

You didn't miss, Chakotay affirmed. And stubborn is an understatement.

The doctor nodded, then asked, Has this... animal guide... ever refused to let you leave a vision quest before now?

Chakotay frowned. No, never. He looked at them in confusion. My guide wants me to share something, then disappears so that I can't even share whatever I'm supposed to share with her either, then everything is destroyed, and she comes back to start it all over again. It doesn't make any sense. Not understanding what his vision was about made him feel out of control and helpless.

But the doctor's eyes were alight with sudden comprehension.

Janeway saw the hologram's expression. Doctor? she questioned immediately.

A pair of holographic eyebrows rose, but the look of satisfaction on the doctor's face was as real as any crewmember's could be. I think I've just figured this out.

Care to share it? Chakotay tartly requested from his place on the biobed. He didn't like being reduced to a lab specimen by a malfunction in his own brain.

Exactly. You took the words right out of my mouth, the doctor said cheerfully.

Chakotay glanced at Janeway. Was it possible that the EMH had developed a backfeed loop that was affecting his cognitive skills?

Janeway looked at Chakotay as if she was wondering the same thing. What did you just figure out? she asked.

Sharing, the doctor said, as if that explained everything. When they continued to look at him, uncomprehending, he sighed and muttered to himself, My eyes are computer algorithms, but I think they can see better than the real thing. Then he proceeded to explain. Commander Chakotay is plagued by a vision that insists he share... something. When he doesn't, his guide leaves, making it impossible to share anything, as there's nobody to share anything with. Then, his surroundings, his entire world, as it were, is destroyed because of this lack of accomplishment on his part. And then, just to make sure that he really gets the picture, the entire process repeats itself to the point that it won't let him leave at all. So, obviously the message here is that you're supposed to share something, and you just did! he finished triumphantly.

Chakotay wasn't convinced. What? he asked, still struggling to keep up. What did I share?

Your vision!

Chakotay looked at Janeway. She looked at him. Both of them looked dazed.

Can it be that simple? Janeway asked.

Of course it can! the doctor exclaimed. Is it a necessity of the vision quest that its message be incomprehensible? That would hardly prove useful; most of the galaxy's population would be eliminated as potential vision questers. Take Mr. Paris, for example....

Janeway sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. The strain was beginning to show in her expression again. Doctor, what you may think of Mr. Paris --

Chakotay interrupted. He did ask me about it, though.

What? she asked.

Tom, he continued, remembering his discussion with the younger man in the conference room and how odd it had seemed for Tom to ask about such a thing as meditating. Tom wanted to know how to meditate. He asked me to teach him.

Janeway was clearly astonished by this news. He did? When was that?

The other day, after the morning briefing... the briefing I didn't meditate through, he amended ruefully. Tom asked about animal guides and vision quests. He said he wanted to learn to meditate so he could go wherever I had been that made me so happy... not that I would recommend that to him now.

This seemed to satisfy the doctor. Well, there you have it. My theory appears to be holding up.

But I talked to Tom before my all-night session, Chakotay protested. Why would that have happened if talking about my vision was enough to stop it?

The captain leaned pensively against the edge of his biobed. She crossed her arms. I remember seeing the two of you talking to each other. Did you describe this vision to Tom, as you did for us just now?

Chakotay paused. No, Tuvok called us to the Bridge.

The doctor brightened again. See? You hadn't fulfilled your obligations, so the quest continued!

Janeway looked as if she half believed the doctor. You didn't tell me any specifics about your vision when we talked in my ready room, either. She nodded her head. The doctor may have something here.

You're cured! the doctor enthusiastically declared.

Chakotay wasn't so sure.

Janeway went on, suggesting, The only way to find out is to try meditating again.

Chakotay instantly barked a laugh and shook his head. No, I don't think so! Not any time soon, anyway.

Janeway smiled in understanding. She lifted her hand and patted his leg in one of her known captainly gestures that was half comfort, half flirtation. That's up to you, Chakotay. I'll just be glad to get my first officer back.

Chakotay smiled at her. Her hand rested on his knee, and when she gave one final pat, he didn't see any flashing images of her hand on his akoonah, or sudden recollections of his visions. He only saw her hand as it was, pale in the garish light of Sickbay. It was a beautiful thing to see.

Beauty, as always, is in the eye of the beholder.

Unfortunately, so are answers.

He saw blood and storms and death. He felt despair, a presence that was achingly cold, freezing his veins, slowing his heart, ripping, tearing, shredding.... And he saw a hand, reaching out for something, beckoning to him, grasping, needing....

Chakotay jerked awake, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in great gasps. The semidarkness of his quarters did nothing to dispel the terror that had followed him from his dream. He felt trapped and nauseous. Shadows lurked in the corner beside his bed, impenetrable, like the sense of doom that had permeated his dream. He fought against the sensation, forced it back before it could overwhelm him and become him.

It was only a dream. Just a dream. The doom wasn't real, he told himself. He was fine, the ship was fine, there was nothing to worry about, nothing at all. He repeated those statements several times, stressing the safety factor, and gradually he was able to get his breathing under control. The dream's grip on him retreated. A moment later he couldn't even remember what had frightened him so much.

He glanced at the chronometer beside his bed; 01:25. He'd only been asleep for an hour. There was plenty of his night shift left for him to catch at least another five hours of sleep before he needed to start his preparations for his next shift. Though Captain Janeway had granted him as much leave as he felt he needed after his discharge from Sickbay, he didn't like being behind on his duties. He had responsibilities that wouldn't wait while he took a meditation vacation, no matter how understanding the captain claimed to be. He'd spent every minute since the doctor had released him that morning on catching up, but he was still behind. Two briefings and one duty shift was enough of a vacation for him; he didn't want to miss any more.

Thoughts of the upcoming day filled his mind as Chakotay rolled over. He tucked his hand underneath his pillow, and quickly fell back to sleep.

The dream assaulted him instantly. He saw blood, and the blood merged with the despair that filled his heart, pumping the pain through his body, to his legs, his toes, his hands....

Chakotay jerked awake a second time. The thud of his heartbeat sounded loud in his ears. Sweat coated his skin and soaked his pajamas and sheets. He stared wildly into the darkened corners of his bed chamber where the shadows had returned, malignant and insidious. His stomach churned in fear. He was unable to shake the feeling of doom and despair that engulfed him. He was trapped in his own quarters, sick, dying....

Lights! he gasped. His breath rasped unevenly in his chest as the computer granted his request. A soft glow filled his quarters and chased away the shadows he'd imagined beside his bed. Still heaving, Chakotay quickly glanced around.

Everything appeared just as it should. There was nothing there.

The emptiness and familiarity of his quarters was reassuring, but the doom of the nightmare clung to him. He couldn't brush the feeling away with a simple call for illumination. He was so upset he was shaking.

Chakotay climbed slowly out of his bed to replicate a glass of water. The sheets twisted around his feet, but he pushed them aside, then pulled them down to give the bed a chance to dry. The outer room of his quarters was as empty and serene as his bedroom. The replicator worked correctly, and the normality of drinking the cool water and seeing the disarray of his quarters distracted him enough so that he finally stopped shaking. Still, twenty minutes passed before he felt safe enough to turn out the lights and crawl back into bed.

This time the dream was more viscous yet. It reached out for Chakotay the second sleep descended on him, choking him, trapping him anew in a swirling maelstrom of death and despair. He saw his animal guide, who had never visited him in his dreams before, and who refused to acknowledge him now. His guide stood back and watched as the pain worked it's way through his body, from his heart, through his veins, to consume every inch of him until he wanted to crawl out of his skin. He saw the flashing landscape of his vision, burning to ashes. He saw Voyager being sucked relentlessly into the color-streaked gyrations of a black hole. He heard screams. He felt loss and despondency. The galaxy tilted, out of balance, without a center, and his animal guide and the vision came back to taunt him. The blood roared in his head, threatening death, until a hand reached out to stop it... a familiar hand, soft and strong, with long fingers, a torn cuticle, and a several chipped nails.

Chakotay woke abruptly. He leaped out of bed and stumbled back against the wall in his haste to put some distance between himself and his dream. His breathing was ragged again, a harsh, unpleasant sound in the quiet of his empty quarters. His heart thumped heavily in his chest, and he had to lean against the wall or risk falling to the floor. He stood propped up by the wall and shivered; he finally understood.

There was no mistake this time. The nightmares were connected to his vision quest. The two, one of loss and destruction, one of death, were somehow linked. The doctor's suggested therapy hadn't worked; sharing his vision quest wasn't enough. He hadn't figured out the meaning of his visions at all. The only thing he did understand was the reason behind the hand. It filled him with dread.

The image of the hand was impossible to misinterpret, no matter how much he wanted to. He had never seen Kathryn's hands in anything but perfect shape, but in spite of the unlikely occurrence of the damaged nails, he would have to be blind not to recognize what he had been looking at for years. It was her hand that had saved him in his dream, her hand on the akoonah, the image of her hand that intruded itself insistently everywhere he turned. She was the key to everything. If he wanted to find the answer he was subconsciously seeking, to get his life under control, he would have to go back into his vision. And he would have to take Kathryn with him.

As far as Chakotay was concerned, that was absolutely not an option.

Chakotay was in surprisingly solid control of himself when he stepped from the turbolift to the Bridge six hours later to start his shift. He nodded to Tuvok already at his station at Tactical, then headed straight for his chair on the command level. On his way to the Bridge he had decided to double check some statistics before submitting several reports to the captain, and he needed to access the ship's computer for the correct information. He activated the computer monitor he shared with Janeway and had what he needed by the time the captain arrived on duty several minutes later. The normal chatter of a changing shift filled the Bridge, but until that time, he hadn't said a word to anyone.

Good morning, Commander, Janeway said with a smile. She sank into her chair, logged herself into the duty rotation, and performed her customary survey of the Bridge personnel before her gaze came to rest on Chakotay. Chakotay?

Chakotay looked up to find her staring at him in puzzled concern. It was only then that he realized she had spoken. He smiled an apology. Sorry, Captain, I didn't hear you. I've been wrapped up in getting some last minute work done before handing it all over to you for review.

I thought maybe you were lost in more vision quests; you seem distracted, she noted.

Chakotay had to choke back a nervous laugh. Distracted! If she only knew! No, not at all, he lied glibly. I had quite a lot of work to catch up on. If I'm lost in anything, it's Neelix's supply reports.

She laughed in amusement. Yes, it is easy to get lost in one of those. She leaned closer to him over the console and lowered her voice. I know he means well, and that it's important to include as much detail as possible, but I have to wonder what Starfleet Command will think when they read years worth of food reports a la Neelix!

He grinned at her. Probably the same thing as when they read all of Seven's accounts of Astrometrics: Who are these people, and how did they get into Starfleet?

Janeway's chuckle was restrained and for his ears alone. I expect you're right, she murmured. Neelix and Seven are only two members of Voyager's crew who are rather... unusual. She paused and looked thoughtfully at him. Still, I can't help but think that Starfleet will be more diverse due to personalities like Neelix.

He was concentrating on implementing the finishing touches to the reports, but he said, Command will probably ask the two of us to head up Starfleet's new Committee on Diversity the minute we get back.

Her laughter rolled across the Bridge to be ultimately swallowed up by the continuing noise of the start of a new shift. Nobody noticed.

Chakotay wouldn't have cared if anybody had. He was too caught up in finishing the reports, in mentally scheduling his coming day, and in avoiding thoughts of dreams and visions and hands. But he couldn't stop himself from glancing at Janeway's hand as it rested on the console separating their command chairs. He practically jumped out of his seat when he noticed the ripped cuticle and several broken nails. Her hand was exactly like the one he'd seen in his dream.

He swallowed hard around the sudden lump in his throat. It took every bit of control he possessed not to grab her hand and demand what she'd done to herself. Chakotay stared blindly at the padd in his own hands and forced his shattered nerves back under control. He managed to make the entire process look like he was thinking hard about something important, which wasn't far from the truth. If he made any outward signs of distress, Janeway didn't notice.

A minute later he was in control again. His attention returned to the padd in his hands and the information it contained. As he punched in the last changes to that information and switched to a different padd from the pile collected on the computer console, he casually asked, What happened to your hand?

His question had interrupted her own work on the computer monitor. She stopped to critically eye the broken nails. Engineering, she explained. I was helping B'Elanna with the conductor coil relays in the intake manifold. Or at least, I was trying to help. I might have been in the way more than helpful, she admitted. But pulling out all those isolinear chips is hell on a captain's hands.

So that's what it was. He once again saw Janeway's hand in his dream, the thumb nail nicked in two places, the cuticle torn. Unbidden, the image only infused him with the same dread he'd felt after his realization the night before. He covered his sudden discomfort with a cheerful smile and held out a data padd containing the specifications of the new drive theory everybody had been working on. Well, here's to the engines.

She smiled and took the padd. While she glanced through the data she commented, Did I ever tell you I used to bite my nails when I was growing up?

Kathryn Janeway, biting her nails? No. He held up another data padd for her to take, doing his best not to stare at her hands as she took it as well.

If I was nervous, I chewed on my nails. If I was worried, I chewed on my nails. If I had to speak in front of class, I chewed on the hangnails that developed because I chewed on my nails.

A nervous Kathryn Janeway? I can't begin to imagine that. He spoke with what sounded like only marginal interest when in fact he was bent on forcing his eyes to look at anything besides her hands. He did not want to think about this anymore. He didn't want any of this to be happening. He didn't want to be faced with the dilemma that her hands represented. His eyes were drawn to them anyway, and he saw another image of her hand on his akoonah....

Chakotay desperately changed the subject. He held up the rest of the data padds and handed each one to her as he announced what it contained. Here are the last of my findings on the storage situation. I think we can expand the aeroponics bay for more food storage. But to convert a portion of the aft shuttle bay is another matter; I'm not sure it's feasible. I think we need to meet with Neelix and Torres about who's needs are greater before we decide on anything concrete. She took the padd and glanced at it briefly. He handed her three more, and she didn't have time for a more complete perusal. Here's the shift rotations for the next three months, the doctor's official request for more medical personnel - I don't know about that either. We're stretched thin as it is - and a request for several gel pack replacements throughout the ship. B'Elanna and Joe Carey think the packs can hold out for awhile longer, but Ensign Kim is worried about communications failures if they all go out at once. I'm also ready to go over the supply situation whenever you are. I've read through Neelix's reports and I don't think I can go any further with them on my own.

The haphazard pile of padds threatened to topple off Janeway's lap and fall to the floor. She grabbed at them, holding on to their edges as she looked with wide eyes at Chakotay. I didn't expect you do get through all this so quickly, Chakotay; I'm not up to speed on half of this myself. She watched him with a bemused expression on her face. Did you work all night on this?

Chakotay was unprepared to withstand a captain's friendly questions. He had intended to start the day immediately and stay busy for as long as he could. A simple question from the one he was running from had stopped him short. Um... he stuttered. He didn't think he should tell her that he'd worked the entire night rotation like a possessed demon because he was scared to go to sleep. He wasn't sure how he could explain that without really explaining it.

I couldn't sleep, he admitted at last. This, at least, was true enough. I guess after being out of it one way or another for two days, I didn't need any more sleep.

You're not pushing yourself too hard, are you? she half accused.

He smiled at her, pouring on the charm, willing to convince her that he was fine before he broke and told her everything. Once she knew what he suspected, she would want to accompany him on a vision quest, and he would never be able to dissuade her. She would certainly find the risks acceptable. But he didn't.

So he lied.

No, he cheerfully said. I couldn't be better.

Chakotay managed to sustain his lie for another twenty-eight hours. A portion of that time he spent alone in his quarters, away from watchful eyes, fighting to stay awake, and trying to decide what to do. He felt trapped by his options; he couldn't put off sleep much longer, but sleeping meant an invitation to the dream, and that was equally unattractive. The alternative, dealing with his visions and his dream head on, was unthinkable. The possibility that he and Kathryn might be trapped forever if he was unable to pull them out of his meditation was too great. He refused to put her in such danger.

But he didn't know what else to do.

He wished there was someone he could talk to about the visions. Talking might help him organize his thoughts, discover an option he might be overlooking. But his choices of confidants were as limited as his options. Tuvok and Vorik practiced meditation techniques, he knew, but Tuvok had already experienced the intense emotional overtones of this vision, and it seemed cruel to force a Vulcan through that twice. He didn't feel that Vorik had enough experience with Human interaction to be comfortable helping a senior officer in such a private matter. Besides, he doubted either man would be able to help him; a Vulcan's inherent lack of emotions would certainly hinder any eventual insight into his own emotional state.

B'Elanna Torres had always been a good friend, but she had trouble believing in anything she couldn't see. If her reaction to his previous attempt at describing the powerful visions was any indication to her future reactions, he was safer not saying anything more to her. Unlike Janeway and the doctor, she wouldn't be able to accord his visions and dreams with the importance he knew they deserved. It was hard enough to accept that he couldn't figure out his own mind without having his oldest friend laugh at him. B'Elanna meant well, but some things were just beyond her interest or understanding.

The obvious person to talk to was, of course, the captain. Whether she admitted it or not, she knew the intimate workings of his psyche better than anyone else on board the ship, and she understood the art and use of meditating. But telling her was out of the question.

So he forced himself to avoid sleeping at all costs and hoped he would come up with a third option in the interim. He could keep the dream at bay as long as he did nothing more than doze. The minute he dropped into a deeper sleep, the dream had him and he would jerk awake a few minutes later, dazed and terrified. He used up all his water rations and took three cold showers during the course of the night rotation in an attempt to stay awake. He worked on every shipboard problem anybody had posed to him in the last year. He cleaned his quarters again. He did calisthenics to very loud music.

But two days and two nights without sleep was more than he could take. By morning he was exhausted. By twelve hundred he was asleep in the middle of the quarterly department staff meeting. He had foolishly grabbed a light meal in the mess hall prior to the meeting, and he entered the conference room with a stomach too full to grumble with hunger pains. The hunger had kept him alert more than he realized. As he sat and listened to reports from Engineering, Security, Environmental, and Stellar Cartography, his eyelids started to droop. He shook his head, took deep breaths, but it was no use.

Captain Janeway had just called for the report from Engineering, and B'Elanna was saying, Ensign Vorik and Seven of Nine work tolerably well together; they should...

He drifted off and missed the next words, but his eyes popped open in time for him to hear, ... complete the upgrade in...

Chakotay felt himself dozing again, and he bit his tongue, hard, and snapped awake.

... time frame, B'Elanna continue. The warp core should only be off-line for a matter of hours, maybe....

He never heard how long the warp drive might be down. Two minutes into B'Elanna's report, his head slowly began to sink to the tabletop, and he was lost in the grip of the dream. There was blood and pain, agony and death, the hand that could stop it all; the nightmare reached its climax just as Janeway reached out to give him a quick shake. He woke before she had the chance to touch him.

The sight of her hand, now so interconnected with the blood and the despair and the horror of his dream, made him recoil in terror. He lunged out of his chair and instinctively threw himself to the side to get away from her hand and what it represented. His back mashed into the computer panel encased in the wall, and the panel wailed in distress. By the time he realized what had happened, it was too late.

Eight pairs of eyes stared at him in stunned disbelief. He was shaking, sweating, and feeling sick to his stomach, but he wasn't incapable of understanding the repercussions of this scene; his private agony had just become public. It was the last thing he wanted.

At least he had a sense of being awake now, though his vault from the chair had used up everything but the last of his reserves. Adrenaline pumped through his system, giving him false energy, making him jittery. He felt hands on his shoulders and arms, though he couldn't quite place which hand belonged to whom. He continued to push himself back into the wall to get away from them. He couldn't think straight, and he had no hope of grasping what was actually happening. He was only vaguely aware of several disjointed voices all speaking at once.

Janeway to Sickbay! Doctor, prepare for a medical emergency!

What happened? Is he all right?

Torres to transporter room one!

Please stand aside.

Space... he needed some space. He flailed against the hands that held him. There were too many hands, too many people, too close, touching him, falling with him to the floor. His breathing grew erratic and strained. He was dizzy. He couldn't get enough air to his lungs, just like in his vision... he was going to die, and he was taking them with him....

He's hyperventilating -- get the emergency medkit!

*This is transporter room one.*

What took you so long....!

Lock onto Commander Chakotay and beam him directly to Sickbay!

As the tingles of the transporter beam coalesced around him and took hold, Chakotay fainted into the world of his own personal nightmare.

The nightmare released him only under extreme coercion.

Chakotay had to claw and fight his way out of the cloying blackness of the dream world. Each time he thought he was close to waking, the dream would grab him again and pull him away from reality. But his only salvation lay in continuing the fight until he made the dream relinquish its hold on him. To lose meant insanity.

He won at last. After what seemed like hours of wearisome battle, he felt the dream slip back. He fought harder, and grew more and more alert by degrees.

He knew that he was lying on his back. The fabric beneath his palms didn't contain the roughness of carpet, so he deduced that he was no longer on the floor in the conference room.

A moment later he recognized the feel of the slick surface of a biobed. He had been in Sickbay recently enough to instantly know where he was.

He felt himself thrashing back and forth, like an upset child caught in his parents' arms when he would rather be free. In his mind the movement was wild and unchecked, but in reality he knew that he must be barely moving, as if restraints held him tightly in place.

Gradually he had the sensation of being heavy and burdened by the weight of his body lying on the biobed. He recognized the effects of a sedative, and a new struggle began, one to push back the drug long enough to tell the doctor to counter the medication with a stimulant. He wasn't sure he could survive another bout with the dream, even a sedated dream.

He thrashed harder, knowing that he was more capable of general movement than a loud yell across Sickbay. He kicked with his feet, and managed to make a quiet thump that the doctor must have heard.

The medical officer appeared suddenly in Chakotay's line of sight, looking agitated and confused. Commander, you shouldn't be awake yet! I gave you enough medication to keep you sedated for at least twelve hours. That was barely an hour ago. I don't understand. He checked the bio monitor stationed above Chakotay's head where a patient's vital signs were on constant display.

Doctor, Chakotay said, though it came out slurred and garbled. His voice sounded like he was talking under water. He would have to try harder. Stimulant, he ordered clearly if slowly, forcing his tongue to wrap around the word one syllable at a time.

The doctor heard him. I can't administer a stimulant, Commander. You're delirious and suffering from sleep deprivation. A sedative will help correct that --

Chakotay reached out to grab the doctor's uniform. His hand moved in slow motion and he fought to keep his eyes open and coordinate the movement at the same time. He tried to wrap his fingers around a handful of uniform, but he couldn't make his fingers grasp the material. He wanted to describe the dream, explain why he needed that stimulant, but he didn't have the motor control to form that many words. He just said, Bad dream... get me out. Give me a... stimulant....

He felt himself falling back into sleep. He struggled against the sensation, moving his legs, attempting to sit up, still grasping at the doctor. He gritted his teeth, not caring if he broke a molar. Stimulant! he growled.

Something he did must have convinced the doctor that he was serious. Just as Chakotay thought he couldn't hold off the sleep a moment longer, he heard the hiss and felt the sting of a hypospray against his neck.

The effect was dramatic. He was immediately alert and in control of his body. He could open his eyes, breath easier, and move. He sat up quickly, and was just as quickly engulfed in waves of vertigo. Only the doctor's hands kept him from tumbling off the biobed.

Dizzy? asked the doctor. At Chakotay's nod, he went on, It serves you right. You're in no shape to be demanding anything, let alone stimulants. You should be asleep. It's the only way to counter the effects of whatever you've been doing to yourself. You need sleep to regain your strength.

I can't sleep, Chakotay said clearly, amazed that it was so easy to talk when only a moment ago it had been a monumental effort just to move his tongue.

But the doctor misunderstood. Of course you can sleep! he barked, exasperated. If you have insomnia, I have the cure. That's what sedatives are for!

No, Chakotay negated. I can't sleep. When I sleep, I dream. When I dream, I wake up feeling more scared than when we were fighting the Borg. I'd rather be assimilated than go through that dream one more time.

That caught the doctor's attention. Dream? What dream? What are you talking about?

Chakotay sighed, still tired, even bone weary, despite the stimulant. It's a long story.

Good; I love a long story. I'll call the captain so you can tell it to both of us. She'll appreciate being informed.

Chakotay grabbed the doctor's arm, stopping him. No, don't call the captain. I'm not ready to tell her... yet. The thought of telling Kathryn the truth now was almost as bad as the continued threat of falling asleep. He needed some help first. He needed advice.

Chakotay looked at the doctor. Call Tuvok.

Tuvok was surprisingly understanding considering the private and emotional nature of Chakotay's dilemma. His previous experience with the scenes in the vision reduced the need for Chakotay to describe superfluous details that the doctor had already heard. Plus he seemed to comprehend the significance of the dream and the image of the hand without being told, and he knew enough about Kathryn Janeway to predict Chakotay's immediate concerns.

I begin to see your problem, Commander, Tuvok said as Chakotay's story continued to unfold. And I must concur with your assessment of the captain's reaction to your suggested course of action; if you tell her of this dream and the apparent significance she plays in its eventual solution, she will undoubtedly wish to join you in another vision quest.

And I can't let that happen, Chakotay insisted. The chances of us getting trapped in the vision are too great.

But, the doctor protested, if this is the answer to your vision quest, surely there's no need to worry that you won't be able to come out of it on your own.

Chakotay shrugged. I would think so. But if the captain was doing the same thing for you, would you risk her life just to get some sleep?

The doctor's brow furrowed. I see your point.

Tuvok went on, Captain Janeway is certainly stubborn enough to find the risks in this undertaking fairly acceptable --

Certainly, the doctor echoed sarcastically.

But I don't find them acceptable, Chakotay said. If I was the only one going into the meditation, I might consider trying it. But I refuse to put the captain in danger simply for my convenience.

Tuvok gave Chakotay a look of patient amusement. It's hardly for your convenience, Commander. I would remind you that you can not be an effective first officer on Voyager if you refuse to sleep. Unlike Vulcans, Humans need regeneration almost as often as they need food.

Regeneration? the doctor scowled. We're not talking about Seven of Nine here, Mr. Tuvok! Commander Chakotay needs sleep, or he will go insane. It's as simple as that.

It's not quite that simple, Chakotay amended. It's just as possible that once the captain hears the whole story and knows that I lied to her, she'll demote me and I won't be first officer anymore. Then it won't matter if I'm insane or not.

It will matter to you, the doctor predicted darkly.

Tuvok shook his head. I'm sure that you are joking, Commander. There is no reason to think that the captain's reaction to your problem will be a negative one, or that she will be angry at all. I have always found Captain Janeway to be a reasonable commanding officer, and a good friend.

We're friends, Chakotay agreed. Then he sighed sadly. But she'll be disappointed that I didn't confide in her from the very beginning, he predicted grimly. And that could be a whole lot worse.

Perhaps, Tuvok hedged. But you must remember that she already knows you lied to her about your health due to the fact that you fainted in front of her in the conference room.

Thanks for bringing that up, Tuvok, Chakotay said dryly. He sighed, feeling tired and defeated. But I guess it doesn't make any difference; it sure doesn't make it any easier for me to ask for her help in this.

Suddenly thoughtful, Tuvok went on, Is it perhaps more likely that you do not wish to share such a personal, intimate experience as a vision quest with anybody, even a friend? Certain truths may be revealed that you might wish to keep to yourself. It is an understandable fear.

In spite of Tuvok's placating words, Chakotay was too stunned to say anything right away. He hadn't considered such an obstacle until now, but what Tuvok said made some sense. Was the lieutenant commander right in predicting that he didn't want to put himself in the compromising and dangerous position of sharing his inner soul with Janeway? Was that why he refused to accept the obvious solution of asking her to help him solve the message behind his vision quest? He knew he was running from Kathryn so that he wouldn't be tempted to ask for her help, but was there a deeper meaning behind his running, something more personal than just her safety? Was he protecting himself and his feelings as much as her?

You might have something, Tuvok, Chakotay admitted reluctantly. But that still doesn't make this decision any easier.

Then I will endeavor to make it easier, Tuvok said in a voice that indicated he didn't intend to do anything of the sort. You have a responsibility to the ship, Commander. You are still the best candidate for first officer. It is your duty to employ whatever means are necessary to solve this problem so that you can return to those responsibilities as quickly as possible.

Tuvok always knew exactly what to say, Chakotay mused in disgust. There was nothing like a Vulcan who understood the uses of the common guilt trip.

Tuvok went on, To allay any fears that you will be placing the captain in danger of being trapped in your vision quest, I will monitor your meditation if you wish.

As will I, the doctor offered, though his offer sounded more like a command to be present than an offer to help. At the first sign of mental distress, Mr. Tuvok and I will jump to the rescue.

Chakotay grunted. An eager Vulcan and an overeager doctor - it was just what he didn't want to deal with. However, they were offering the fail safes that he needed, ones he thought he didn't have the right to ask for. Though he didn't like having his personal life on display like this, at least he could be assured that neither the doctor nor Tuvok would ever talk about whatever might transpire. If nothing else, his feelings for Kathryn, should they surface, would be safely contained to just the four of them.

All right, he agreed reluctantly. I don't like it, but I don't know that I have any other choice.

Excellent, Commander, beamed the doctor. I've always been interested in learning more about your people's beliefs and seeing their use of meditation first hand.

Tuvok burst the doctor's enthusiasm. We will be monitoring the vision quest from another room, Doctor. Unless something happens, you will see nothing.

The doctor's face fell into a scowl. Spoil sport, he grumbled.

Chakotay sighed and smiled sympathetically. Ideally, the vision quest takes place far from the threat of any interaction with other people. I'm not even sure that the captain's presence will be accepted by my spirit guide. There might be nothing to see.

The doctor didn't look convinced.

Tuvok stepped back, indicating that a solution had been reached and the conversation was drawing to a close. In addition, the action stopped any further commentary from the doctor. I suggest that you delay no longer. You should begin whatever preparations are necessary for the vision quest. And if you like, I will speak to the captain on your behalf.

Soften her up a bit before you feed me to her? Chakotay joked as he slid off the biobed and tested his legs. He felt stronger than he had expected.

If a Vulcan could experience exasperation, Tuvok was in the throes of it now. As I said before, I do not understand why --

Chakotay smiled and interrupted. I really was joking this time, Tuvok.

Oh, Tuvok responded in flat tones. Then you do not wish me to soften her up?

Chakotay smiled again, but then the smile faded. No, I'll talk to her myself. It's my idea, after all, my dreams, my vision quest, my problem.

The doctor suddenly braced his hand on Chakotay's shoulder. Looking like the loyal adventurer that he repeatedly denied was part of his program, he grandly instructed, It's our problem, Commander Chakotay. If you need help, we'll be there for you.

Tuvok's reaction to the doctor's statement was to raise his eyebrows in further exasperation. Comforting words, Doctor. However, I suggest you prepare for the coming ordeal as well, or you will be no help to anyone.

The doctor missed Tuvok's slight sarcasm in the excitement of his coming mission. Of course, he said. He gave Chakotay's shoulder one last squeeze of support. Just remember; you can count on us.

Chakotay appreciated the doctor's continued support and enthusiasm. He just wished he felt the same.

END PART II

Part 1 || Contents || Part 3