Dangerous Meditations

Chakotay felt exhausted and distracted from the lack of sleep, and jumpy from the stimulant and the imminent encounter with the captain. He wasn't looking forward to explaining his behavior, either as an officer or as her friend. She had the right to expect him to be more forthcoming on both counts. Even though it was still his instinct to protect the vision quests and to keep the identity of his animal guide a secret, he knew that secrecy was detrimental in this case. He had to tell her if he ever wanted a normal life again.

His concerns didn't seem to matter anyway; so many people knew details about his visions and dreams that it was silly to worry about telling one more person. Still, this person was the captain, and he found that he felt shy about revealing so much of his inner self for her eventual scrutiny.

But the doctor and Mr. Tuvok were already making preparations for their part in monitoring his and the captain's upcoming meditation, and there was no turning back now. The only thing left to do was to inform the captain, and then let her natural tendencies for action take over. Chakotay was fairly certain that Janeway would have no qualms about attempting to help by accompanying him on his next vision quest... he only wished he wasn't in a position where any help was necessary. Helping him would be dangerous, and putting the captain in danger made his instincts scream.

On the other hand, it was just as dangerous for him to continue on as he had been, not sleeping, suffering from terrible nightmares when he did sleep, and avoiding the problem. The doctor was right - he had to either face the captain, or face insanity.

He chose to face Janeway in the relative privacy and familiarity of his quarters, where he knew he would feel comfortable and it would be easier for him to meditate. Later he realized that the privacy part was a mixed blessing. Janeway took advantage of that privacy from the very beginning, when she met him in the corridor outside his quarters. She was waiting for him.

Commander, she said, greeting him in that tone of voice that signaled anger barely concealed by civility.

Chakotay sighed. This could easily turn into a very long day. Captain, he answered and keyed in his entrance code. The door to his quarters swished aside.

She didn't wait for him to enter. She cocked her head over her shoulder and regarded him with a thoughtful expression on her face. I hear that you've been having trouble sleeping. It was obvious that she suspected he was having trouble with a lot more than just sleeping.

Chakotay had to swallow another sigh. You could say that, he admitted. He gave her a small smile; if he was finally going to be honest with her, he might as well enjoy it as much as he could. Anything, even a dressing down by Janeway, was better than continued suffering at the hands of his dream. Or at the hands of her dream hand. The sudden absurdity of that thought made Chakotay's smile grow into a soft, appreciative chuckle.

Janeway's calculated thoughtfulness of a moment before turned into a genuinely puzzled expression. Do you think there's something funny about that?

Chakotay's smile vanished. No, definitely not. He gestured through his open door and into his quarters. Would you like to come in? I'll tell you about it.

You had better, said the look in her eyes, but aloud she only commented, Yes, I think that would be a good idea.

But before they were able to pass through his door, they heard a shout from down the corridor. They turned and saw Neelix.

Commander! Neelix heralded and waved his hand in the air to make sure he caught Chakotay's attention. I have something for you! He rushed up, panting and enthusiastic.

Neelix, Chakotay said, trying to hide the relief that Neelix's arrival gave him. It was only a short reprieve from the coming ordeal, but it offered him a little breathing room. He was grateful even for small favors now. What can I do for you?

Neelix grinned and poked Chakotay in the chest with the data padd he was carrying. It's not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you! You see, I have here the perfect cure for insomnia.... He paused when he noticed the look that passed between Chakotay and Captain Janeway. You do have insomnia, don't you? At least, that's what I heard, but you know how the rumor mill is; sometimes it's so accurate it's amazing, and at other times, it's more... well, it's more amusing than amazing! He gave a lighthearted laugh. And.... He paused again. Did I catch you at a bad time, Commander? Neelix had begun to pick up on the aggravated vibes that accompanied the looks Janeway was aiming at both him and her first officer.

Chakotay smiled, ignoring Janeway's icy stare. Not at all, Neelix.

So it is insomnia? the Talaxian asked sympathetically.

Chakotay nodded. Yes. Then he amended, Sort of.

Neelix thrust the data padd at him. Then I do have just the thing for you. On this padd is my mother's no-nonsense, surefire, will-make-you-drop-before-you-know-what-hit-you cure for the sleeping blues. It's helped me on more than one occasion, let me tell you! Why, I remember the night before my first date with my good friend Krixa... I was so nervous, I hadn't slept well for three days, and my mother heard me pacing back and forth in my room, pacing, pacing --

Janeway interrupted, Neelix.

Neelix stopped in the middle of his recitation, his complacency unaffected by her patient remonstration. Oh, sorry. I guess I was getting carried away. But you should take a look at it, Commander Chakotay. It's sure to help... or, at least it can't hurt! he good-naturedly corrected himself. His smile lit up his face.

Chakotay smiled back, touched by the gesture. Thank you, Neelix, I will.

Neelix put up his hands and shook his head. Oh, there's no need to thank me, Commander. I'm just glad to help whenever I can. He turned to retreat down the corridor, but at the last minute, called back over his shoulder, And Commander?

Chakotay looked up from his examination of the padd. Yes?

Sleep well! Neelix ordered.

Chakotay nodded. I'll do my best.

Neelix disappeared around a bend in the corridor.

A burst of air hissed through Chakotay's pursed lips. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure if Neelix's interruption had been a reprieve or not. He cast his eyes towards the captain to gauge what she might be thinking, but she wasn't watching him.

Janeway leaned around Chakotay's shoulder to get a better look at the contents of the padd. She read, Eat a lot, then eat some more, then drink a mug of hot olaga juice.... Ugh! This wouldn't just put you to sleep, it would give you nightmares!

Chakotay grimaced as well. He commented, I have enough nightmares without any help from Neelix. But it was a nice thing for him to do. He scrolled through the rest of the data, found it to be similar advice, then shut down the padd. His hand shook. Nice or not, most of the suggestions would still keep him awake. He couldn't stand staying awake much longer.

Janeway was looking up at him. She'd noticed his shaking hands. Have you been having nightmares? she asked quietly. The anger had vanished from her voice, and now the look on her face conveyed concern and something that Chakotay didn't often see: uncertainty. Is that what happened today in the conference room? It's not insomnia, like we thought?

He sighed at her questions. She wanted to know too much too soon. He couldn't think fast enough right now to keep up with her questions. He needed to tell it to her slowly so that he could keep it all straight. It's a long story. Come in and I'll tell you.

Nobody rushed down the corridor to interrupt the invitation this time, and Chakotay entered his quarters, followed by Janeway. The door closed behind them, shutting out any sounds from the few crewmembers roaming the living decks during mid-shift. The faint pulse of the warp engines vibrated through the floor, but the noise was minimal. Chakotay felt as if he and the captain were encased in a soundproof, unbreakable bubble. He shook his head; he really was starting to hallucinate.

Sit down, Chakotay, Janeway suggested, as if she were the host and not the reverse. She so rarely visited Chakotay's quarters that he wouldn't be surprised if she felt a bit shy herself. He knew it was natural for her to take control of a situation, especially when she felt doubtful or insecure. When he looked at her more closely, he still detected a hint of that uncertainty about her.

Chakotay was glad to sit in one of the chairs near the viewing port. His muscles ached and his bones hurt from weariness. Sitting helped. He could see the blue and red streaks of warped stars through the window, hurtling past in a blur, but he was unable to concentrate long enough to detect the current speed of the ship. The effects of the stimulant and his recent lack of sleep precluded any bouts of deep concentration. He hoped that wouldn't hinder his ability to meditate.

Janeway took a seat in the chair across from him while he was wrapped up in his thoughts. Her quiet, So, brought him out of his reverie with a jolt. When she had his full attention, she leaned back in her chair and calmly asked, What's this all about?

He appreciated the opening she provided, but he found it difficult to know where to begin. I need your help, he unceremoniously blurted.

When he didn't continue right away, she patiently nodded encouragement and said, All right. Help with what?

Chakotay leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands between his knees. He stared at the floor for a moment, trying to organize his thoughts into something coherent that she might understand. He started speaking in halting phrases, giving her a muddled account of his visions and the dreams. I was meditating... it was so horrible, but the dreams... were worse.... He suddenly remembered that he had already explained much of his vision quests during his first stay in Sickbay. He didn't have the time to waste repeating himself, but once he started, he found that he didn't have the concentration to summarize.

Chakotay, Janeway said, you don't have to go through that again --

Yes, I do, Chakotay decided. He breathed deeply, and his hands still shook, even though they were clenched tightly together. If I'm going to ask for your help, I need to tell you the entire story.

Janeway regarded him closely, noted the shaking hands, and repeated, All right, if that's what you think is necessary. I'm listening.

After taking a deep breath to clear his head, he started again. I was meditating, and I kept going to the same vision. It didn't make any difference why I was meditating. I ended up at the same place each time. The vision world was beautiful at first. There was a lake with the bluest, clearest water I had ever seen, and trees, and the sun was so warm and the air smelled like fresh flowers and grass and earth. Everything was so perfect, Kathryn. I loved it. It was fresh and new, and I felt... Chakotay paused. How had he felt while he was in that perfect world? Saying he felt perfect sounded ridiculous to his tired, numbed mind. It was full of peace, and I was part of that peace. I didn't want to leave.

Janeway gave him a crooked smile. It sounds wonderful. I wish I could see it, she said quietly.

Chakotay wasn't so tired that he missed the irony of her statement. But he didn't want to jump ahead in his story; he might not be able to fill in the blank sequences if he explained anything out of order.

He continued, This world was so perfect, and I felt so good just being there, that I wanted to share it. I told the doctor that the need to share was a part of the vision. Maybe it was the point of the vision.

I remember that. But you said that you couldn't even find your guide to share it with.

Chakotay nodded. She was gone. I thought she might be dead. Then the world just sort of crumbled in on itself, and the storm came and destroyed everything. I lost... everything.

Chakotay had spent so much recent time thinking about the dreams that he had managed to push aside that overwhelming sense of loss that accompanied the destruction of his vision world. Now he saw it all again. It happened in his mind just as it had happened in his meditations. Waves of pain crashed over him. He clenched his teeth against the onslaught of fresh memories.

What I haven't told you about, he said, grunting the words through his teeth, forcing them out, forcing himself to continue, is the dreams.

The nightmares, she guessed, gently correcting him.

The nightmares. Chakotay felt his jaw tighten as he thought of the pain in his dreams. He ignored the warning signs of his weakening resistance just as he'd ignored the meaning behind his dreams. He licked his lips and concentrated on what he needed to say. And the images. I haven't told you about that. The images of your hand.

Chakotay couldn't help himself; he glanced at her hands resting in her lap. The fingers were curled together, and he noticed that her nails were all filed down and once again perfectly shaped. He wondered if his next vision of her hand would accommodate the changes.

My hand? the captain was questioning, cutting into his train of thoughts. She was clearly confused. What does my hand have to do with any of this?

The day I was sick in your ready room was the first time I saw it. His eyes never strayed from her hands as he talked. Right before I left my quarters to meet with you, I saw the sudden image of your hand, resting on my akoonah. I saw it again just as we finished talking, and I was struck by the sensation of trust....

His voice trailed off... he had forgotten that. Somehow the sense of trust seemed significant now, but he couldn't pinpoint any reason why. He had to shake his head and blink away the lingering feelings of his discovery before he could go on. I didn't think it meant anything at the time --

She interrupted, You mentioned seeing flashing images, but you didn't say anything specific about my hands. Are you certain...?

Kathryn, Chakotay cut her off. A weak smile curved his lips upward. I recognize your hands when I see them. I saw the same image in my dream... my nightmare... two nights ago.

What was this... nightmare... about?

Blood. Pain, he answered decisively. At least there was no doubt about that. Despair and death. Mine, yours, Voyager's. I was trapped, dying.... The visions were nothing compared to this dream. His voice began rising as the dream sensations took control. And I had it over and over again, every time I fell asleep, and it was worse each time, more people died, there was so much blood, I couldn't make it stop --

Chakotay! she said sharply, stopping him. She rose and reached out to catch his hands as they gestured wildly in the air.

He was sweating and his heart pounded in his chest, just as if he'd fallen asleep into the dream once again. The touch of her hands jerked him out of the dream's mental grip. With relief he focused on her face, concentrating on her soft touch and the blue of her eyes. In a moment, the spiraling sensations of death and pain subsided.

He swallowed around the lump that remained lodged in his throat. I'm sorry, he apologized, his voice rough. I didn't know it was going to be this hard. Telling Tuvok and the doctor had been much easier than it was to explain the situation to Kathryn. So much more was at stake this time.

Ignorant of his continuing battle, she knelt down before his chair in the exact posture she had used in her ready room a lifetime ago. Chakotay, when was the last time you slept?

He sighed, trying to think. Two days, maybe more.

Two days! she exclaimed in a horrified whisper. No wonder your behavior has been so erratic. Cautiously she suggested, Have you talked to the doctor about this? Perhaps if he gave you a sedative....

Chakotay laughed harshly. He saw her wince. The sound hurt even his ears. He did. I dreamed through it. I made him give me a stimulant to counter it. I couldn't stand the dream anymore.

She exhaled an amazed breath of air. You shouldn't dream while sedated, she said almost to herself, momentarily caught up in the scientific dilemma he posed.

This is a very persistent dream, he said, forcing himself not to choke on the words. It was there whenever I fell asleep. The only thing that seemed to put an end to it was your hand. I even knew about your chipped nails before I saw them because that was in my dream.

She released her hold on his hands to examine her nails again in an eerie reproduction of her actions the day before on the Bridge. I filed them, she reported needlessly.

Yes, I noticed.

Her gaze met his eyes. Considering the circumstances, I'm not surprised.

Chakotay took a deep breath, calming himself before he went on. Eventually I realized the meaning behind the image; your hand on my akoonah is somehow connected to my vision quest, and so is the dream. The dream ends each time with an image of your hand reaching out to stop it. The first time I saw the image was right after the first destruction of the vision world. He looked down at her kneeling in front of him, and gripped her hands with his own. His voice sounded grating and desperate as he said, Kathryn, somehow you're the key to everything. I need you to come with me into a vision quest. I can't stop this by myself.

A blank look settled across her face. You want me to.... She paused as the idea sank in and took hold. But can you do that? she asked, objecting. I thought that... Won't it offend your spirit guide if I know its identity?

Chakotay sighed. I don't know. That's what I was taught, and this might not work at all, but.... Kathryn, I don't know what else to do, he pleaded, and even as he did, he hated doing it. He'd never asked her for help before. He'd never asked her for anything. He'd never had to.

Janeway slowly stood until she was staring down at him. He awkwardly released his hold on her hands, and his own hands fell uselessly to his lap. He ran his fingers through his hair and scrubbed tiredly at his face just for something to do. Movement kept him awake.

I need to think about this for a moment, she announced solemnly.

He nodded once.

Kathryn turned and walked towards the window. She stood still, one hand poised on her hip, the other dangling loosely at her side. Her head tilted up as she silently regarded the stars streaking past his windows.

It was a stance that Chakotay often saw her take. He knew she was debating with herself. He couldn't see the expressions on her face, and he wished he could. Her thoughts revealed themselves through her expressions as often as she adopted the pose she was now standing in. Reading her thoughts as she unconsciously revealed them had become one of his chief delights over the years. He was good at it. He could recognize her expressions and anticipate her thoughts almost as easily as he recognized her hands.

But now he felt that by asking for her help in such a potentially dangerous undertaking, he had abdicated his right to look. A connection that should have bridged their natural defenses only erected more barriers. He laughed a harsh, mental laugh. It was just another sadistic twist to chalk up to his predicament.

Suddenly she patted her thigh with quick, agitated slaps of her hand. This action was familiar too. Chakotay didn't need to see her face to know what she was thinking; she was done thinking.

I want to be clear on this, she said in a no-nonsense tone. Kathryn continued to face the window as she spoke. You haven't slept for two days because of this horrible nightmare that attacks you every time you fall asleep. You tried to carry on your normal duties.... She grunted a small, irritated laugh of her own. In fact, you carried on so well that nobody realized that anything was wrong. You certainly fooled me.

She turned around to face him, and for the first time Chakotay seriously wondered if she might say no to his request. The look on her face indicated that she was less than pleased. But there was nothing he could do except hear her out, and try to persuade her once she was done.

Kathryn went on. You haven't slept for two days, she repeated slowly, emphasizing each word. Her eyes were cool as she regarded him. Am I correct in thinking that you've known about this solution for just as long?

Chakotay suddenly understood what she was after. She was angry at his silence, angry because he hadn't confided in her before it was almost too late. He had anticipated her disappointment on this, and should have expected her anger as well. He would have been angry with her if the circumstances were reversed. Yes. I knew.

Yet you said nothing. Her words rode on the very tail end of his, as if she couldn't wait for him to confirm her suspicions before she launched into one of her infamous Janeway reprimands. You could have spoken up days ago. You've forced yourself through two days of pointless torture... and for what? Why didn't you say something sooner? One hand rose to rub dispiritedly at her forehead, as if she was trying to rub a sense of understanding into her brain and was failing miserably.

The confrontation that Chakotay had been dreading for all of those two days she mentioned had finally arrived. Now that he was facing it, he found that the dread had disappeared. He had his reasons for the choices he'd made, and he felt his reasoning was sound. If she disagreed - and she would - then she disagreed. There wasn't anything he could do about that.

He didn't apologize. Before she could initiate a second round of questions, he asked instead, Do you realize how dangerous this can be?

She stood staring at him with her mouth half open, more words on the tip of her tongue, but forced into speechlessness.

He continued, The last time I meditated, it went on for almost twelve hours because I couldn't bring myself out of it. There's a good possibility that the same thing will happen again; I have no reason to think differently. We could be trapped inside my head, and Tuvok might not be able to bring us back out again. Two days ago, remaining silent was the only decision I could make. I'm not willing to risk your life simply for my convenience.

Janeway snorted. This is hardly a matter of convenience, Chakotay, she said, echoing Tuvok's earlier sentiments. This is life-threatening. You had an obligation to the ship, to me, and to yourself to mention this long before you fell asleep on duty. She made a cutting gesture with her hand, slicing the air in angry sweeps. I can only put your decisions down to poor judgment due to lack of sleep. There's absolutely no reason for you to think that you have to go through this alone --

Being alone was always your defense, not mine, Chakotay interrupted, bringing up what was becoming an old argument before he could think better of it. But he was too tired to guard his tongue at this point. He plunged on quickly, giving her no time to react. My decision wasn't about handling this on my own. It was about risk. If it were up to me, I would never ask you to go with me on this vision quest; it's too dangerous. I know you're disappointed that I didn't confide in you sooner, but this kind of personal risk is not what I expect from you. I don't like asking --

You should, she said suddenly, surprising him into his own silence.

The rest of his words died with a strangling gurgle in the back of his throat. The skin along his forehead prickled at the change from anger and animosity to something else. What?

Whatever had prompted Kathryn to say what she'd said affected even the atmosphere in the room. The gathering charge of anger and the need to debate and defend their individual points of view vanished. Just as suddenly as the argument began, it was over. Kathryn looked steadily at the floor, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Chakotay sat still in his chair, waiting for an explanation.

A moment passed before she looked at him again. I am disappointed that you didn't tell me, she admitted. I wish you had come to me sooner than this; I might have been able to save you some pain. But I'm also disappointed in myself, she sighed, and glanced away, unwilling to meet his gaze. Another silent moment passed while she contemplated everything and nothing, unseeing eyes passing over the personal mementos of his quarters. I have been so worried about you, Chakotay, she confessed quietly, eyes resolutely trained away from him, and I have no right mentioning your responsibility to the ship if I don't bring up my own responsibility to you. I know you well enough that I should have realized something was wrong. You deserve that much, at least, from any captain, and probably more from this captain.

Maybe..., Chakotay began hesitantly before he could lose his nerve. His voice was quiet, too, and thick with the unexplored emotions that had jumbled to his consciousness at her words. He had to concentrate to keep them in control. He had to concentrate just to form the words and to talk. Maybe the responsibility would be even better coming from a friend.

Encouraged by his quiet suggestion, Kathryn finally met his eyes. She looked at him. Her brows rose to make a doubtful ridge of her forehead, though her tone was faintly teasing. I don't know; a captain and a friend? She cocked her head and grinned at him, wryly serious and still doubtful. You don't ask for much, do you. Her last words mocked herself as much as teased him.

Chakotay didn't know if he was asking for a lot at this point or not. He was finding it harder and harder to keep track of what she was saying and what the conversation meant, both on the literal and figurative levels. He only knew that he needed her help, and that he didn't want to fight any longer. He was so tired of the fighting, tired of... of the situation, tired of everything....

Chakotay!

The sharpness of her voice penetrated his muddled senses and brought him awake again with a start. He sat up straighter and blinked rapidly, forcing his aching eyes to focus on her form silhouetted in front of the observation windows. I think -- he started to say, but she interrupted.

I think we should save this debate for another time, Kathryn said decisively, spurred to action by his waning ability to maintain a grasp on reality. You're not going to remain alert much longer. We should do the vision quest now.

Then you'll help? he asked needlessly.

She was already rearranging the furniture in his sitting area to give them more room and flexibility of space. She paused to glance at him. Her face showed a contradicting image of fondness and exasperation, frustration and something softer, something he couldn't interpret. A tender smile spread across her face. Chakotay, you've helped me so many times, and in more ways than.... She stumbled over the words, unaccustomed to speaking on such a personal subject, shy about speaking the words to him in particular. Finally she simply said, As your friend, I can do nothing less. She put her hand over his resting on the arm of the chair.

He felt her fingers wrap securely around his. Even that small gesture pushed away the sleep that was quickly becoming a constant, luring buzz in his mind. Grateful, he gave her hand a squeeze in return. Then he nodded and tapped his combadge, eager to start before the sleep threatened to return.

Chakotay to Tuvok. We're ready.

The doctor carefully attached a tiny, round device to Chakotay's right temple and activated it with a flick of his fingernail. Chakotay heard its slight hum resonate in his ear, and before he realized what was happening, he felt the buzzing, humming haze of his mind quickly match the sound and incorporate it into his driving need to fall asleep. The haze moved in. He lost sight of Kathryn sitting directly across from him, so close that their knees almost touched. He fought the sensation, but it was a losing battle. The dark seduction of sleep tugged at him until he heard, but didn't feel, the hiss of another hypospray against the side of his neck. Chakotay gasped. He was instantly alert.

Stimulant, the doctor said in explanation, and his face arranged itself into a satisfied expression. Chakotay suspected that he rather enjoyed this skirmish against time and the sleep.

Thank you, said Chakotay. He took a deep breath, clearing the last of the cobwebs from his mind. It was just in time.

I know. The doctor's self-satisfied expression deepened. Then he indicated the medical instrument on Chakotay's forehead, and Chakotay noticed an identical device attached to Kathryn's temple. The doctor's gaze passed from Chakotay to Janeway and back again while he said, I will be monitoring your brain waves and neural activity with these receivers. If there is any indication that you're struggling, or if the readings change, or if I see anything similar to the activity I recorded during the commander's last meditation experience, I will manipulate your psyonic patterns into waking you both. If this fails to bring you out of your vision quest, Commander Tuvok is standing by, ready to assist with a mind meld. If that doesn't work, and in the event that you aren't both brain dead by that point, Ensign Vorik will assist Mr. Tuvok.

Janeway tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, That's a great comfort, Doctor. She smiled at him in encouragement, but gave Chakotay a look that said her comfort level wasn't nearly as high as it had been a moment before.

Oblivious, the doctor smiled back. He cockily raised his eyebrows. We tried to think of every contingency that will assure your safety. But in the event that we fail and can't bring you out of this vision quest, Mr. Tuvok is already versed on assuming command of the ship --

Thank you, Doctor, it seems like you've covered everything, Chakotay hurried to say, inelegantly overriding the hologram. He was too concerned about putting a stop to the doctor to worry much about how rude his own words sounded. I think we're ready to start.

Very well. The doctor stood. Good luck, Commander, Captain. I promise that my eyes won't leave my readings. Squeak, and we'll come running. He turned without further comment and retreated to join Tuvok in the relative privacy of Chakotay's bedroom. The door, usually left in the open position, slid shut behind him with a hiss.

Chakotay drew a breath of air and looked at Kathryn.

She breathed in the quiet as well. Then her lips curled up in a slight grin, though she tried to squelch it. Should we test him? she asked quietly. If I squeak, would he really come running?

Probably, Chakotay predicted, striving to match her light tone and failing. Let's not find out. He reached for his medicine bundle resting at his side. His hands trembled and the bundle shook. He didn't know if the shaking was caused by the heavy doses of stimulants he'd recently received, the lack of sleep, or both. He tried to control the shaking, and failed in that too. Another deep breath helped only to settle some of the nervous twinges in his stomach.

How are you feeling? Kathryn asked, pointedly avoiding his shaking hands with her eyes. She had her own medicine bundle in her lap, its covering a stark blue against the black of her uniform.

How did he feel? Sick, he answered. And terrified. He laid his medicine bundle on the floor between them and prepared to unwrap the layers of heavy cloth. And I'm tired. What if I fall asleep in the middle of the vision quest?

What if you find the answers you're looking for? she countered softly. When he didn't respond, she leaned forward and put a hand on his knee, interrupting his concentration. Chakotay, if you fall asleep, I will personally yell as loud as I can right in your ear.

Suddenly the nervousness began to dissipate at the image of Captain Janeway yelling at anybody in a vision quest. It was a much needed dose of reality in the grim face of the coming ordeal. He grinned at her, feeling better already. Promise? he goaded.

Her grin matched his own. On my honor as a Starfleet officer, she said, her tone teasing and light and refreshing after the doctor's speech of doom.

Their levity was at odds to the seriousness of their situation, but Chakotay found that he could concentrate easier in the less oppressive atmosphere. He met her eyes. Ready?

Ready.

They opened their medicine bundles at the same time and quickly discovered that they didn't have enough room to display both sets of items in the space between them. Kathryn moved to sit at Chakotay's left. Their knees did touch now, the material of their uniforms rubbing together. Awkward as the contact was considering the unresolved nature of their carefully avoided personal relationship, Chakotay took further comfort from the contact.

Now I have better access to your ear, she explained with a straight face, then continued to remove the blue cloth taken from a Starfleet science field kit that acted as the covering for her medicine bundle.

Chakotay had never seen Kathryn's medicine bundle, though he had been instrumental in her decision to create one. He could only conclude that she had started her collection after they had returned to Voyager from New Earth. If she had used it on the planet, he would have discovered it sooner or later. But on the ship, his personal contact with the captain was greatly reduced from what he had enjoyed during their months in exile.

Reminded of the invisible gulf that always lay between them now, and conscious of the sense of loss that typically accompanied such thoughts, Chakotay sighed sadly. He continued to arrange the items as he took them out of his bundle.

You've added some items, Kathryn noted, indicating a second rock, a leaf, and what looked like a piece of some kind of metal.

So have you, he said, a hint of humor lacing his observation. Curiosity surged through him, and he indicated the objects she had removed to spread on the floor of his quarters. May I? he asked. She looked at him, hesitantly, shyly, then nodded. He reached for the nearest object and picked it up. It was a flower, professionally dried and pressed, preserved well enough to hold its color and last for years, even in the uncertain environment of Voyager's recycled air. The faintest hint of perfume wafted up to him. He recognized the smell. Surprised, he looked at her again.

A rose, she acknowledged with a feigned air of nonchalance. But without even a second questioning glance from him, she capitulated and admitted in slight embarrassment, The rose.

He couldn't quite bring himself to fully understand the significance of the flower he was holding. Maybe it was all the drugs coursing through his system that hindered his mental processes, but he had to ask, The one I gave you?

She nodded. Yes, the one you gave me, in my ready room, right after....

Kathryn didn't finish, but that didn't stop him from mentally completing her statement; ... right after she almost died with an alien stuck inside her mind while he stood by, helpless, and watched.

Uncomfortably aware of the similarities between her experience and his current predicament, she took the flower back from him. Perhaps this isn't a good time to be talking about that.

Chakotay couldn't argue with that, though the fact that she'd kept that rose, a gift for her, pleased him. I don't know, he hedged. I gave this to you as a way to celebrate life. I guess this is as good a time to talk about that as any other.

Rather than responding to his comment, she pointed at the piece of metal that was part of his bundle. What's that? I don't recognize it.

He handed it to her. I was making it. It was going to be a hair clip for Kes, but she left before I had the chance to finish it.

Kathryn turned the unfinished metal over in her hands. She was careful of the jagged edges, but her manner of handling it depicted more than simple care. She held the piece with something akin to reverence.

Chakotay said, I keep it as a part of my medicine bundle to remind me that life is fleeting, and that those we love are with us, no matter the distance that separates us.

She sent a swift glance at him, as if she was searching for some hidden message in his words. Her expression thoughtful, she turned her attention back to the metal in her hands. I miss Kes, she confided softly.

When she turned her eyes to meet his again, they were sad, and wise, and tired, and old. Thinking of Kes made Chakotay feel the same way, in spite of his more positive proclamation a moment before. He did believe that his memories of past friends kept them alive and present to some extent, but at the same time, he couldn't combat a feeling that once a loved one was gone, a void erupted in his soul. The longer he lived, the stronger the impression that his soul was becoming full of holes.

Chakotay shook his head, ridding himself of the disquieting thoughts. He hadn't intended this part of the vision quest to be such a cathartic experience. If he wasn't careful, he wouldn't have any energy left for the real quest.

Janeway handed the metal back to him, and with that simple movement, Chakotay was struck again by the sudden flashing image of her hand on an akoonah. He blinked, and the image was gone, but it acted as an urgent incentive to forgo this part of the ritual and move ahead before it was too late. He promised himself to ask about her bundle's other sacred objects later. If there was a later.

Ready? he repeated, his eye catching hers.

She nodded, the talk of Kes making her serious once again. Yes.

They both inhaled deeply at the same time. The shared action would have made them laugh in nervous tension at any other time, but now they ignored their nerves, their minds already centered on the task at hand. They joined hands without discussing the necessity of such an action, and placed their free hands on their respective akoonahs.

Chakotay stole a quick glance at her hand resting comfortably amid the flashing lights and grid of the meditation device. What he saw matched the image he'd been carrying around in his head for the last week. Looking at it now was like looking down an ever-broadening tunnel into his mind where the image lived. He felt an unfamiliar, yet pleasant mental tug, almost a yearning sensation. His gaze moved to take a quick look at his hand wrapped securely around hers, and he felt the heat and soft touch of her fingers.

His eyes slid away. He started the vision quest with no further hesitation. The incantation whispered into the air between them. Chakotay heard Kathryn breathing quietly beside him, calm and relaxed. Suddenly it was as if she had always been beside him. He felt her hand in his again, a contradiction of strength and delicacy, of vulnerable authority. The mental tug was there, stronger now, promising... something.

The sensation of promises and offerings increased. There was definitely something different about this vision quest, an added element that wasn't part of the others. He felt himself move into the vision, but he wasn't pushed or pulled, as he had experienced before. This was a natural forward progression, evenly paced, easy to make, an acceptance, as if he was somehow fulfilling a destiny. His worries and fears disappeared.

And then they were in the vision, and the world that was both familiar and terrifying to Chakotay opened up around them. He saw the lake, the water dazzling in the serene warmth and light of a summer sun. The smell of flowers wafted around them in waves of dancing air and a soft breeze. Tree leaves rustled, calmly, quietly, a steady background song, like waves rolling onto a beach. Grasses bent and wove patterns around his feet, and the aroma of dirt and growing things lifted up to him. He looked up at the blue dome of sky that arced overhead. The blueness wrapped around him, relaxing his muscles until he sighed in contentment.

Throughout his journey and first impressions and examination of this world, he was aware of his hold on Kathryn's hand. She was still with him, but he wasn't wholly aware of her as a solid presence until her fingers tightened around his and he heard her draw in a deep breath of awe.

Kathryn whispered, Oh, Chakotay. She said his name slowly, in a lilting tone, making it sound exotic and precious, though when he glanced down at her, she looked as if she was barely conscious of him. Her entire being was engaged in looking everywhere at once, in breathing and feeling and soaking in every essence of his vision world. I never imagined.... she started to say, then didn't finish, once more absorbed in the looking and wonder of this world.

Finally she turned to him, and her features formed an expression of pure, awed delight. It's beautiful, she breathed in a stunned whisper.

Chakotay's most recent memories of this particular landscape were far more volatile than the scene he was experiencing now, and he had forgotten how beautiful it truly was. He had to re-evaluate his biased impressions into something more accepting, something less frustrated and angry and fearful. He blinked, and suddenly the beauty leapt out at him, exploding over him in splendor.

At the same time a streak of sunlight slanted down at just the right angle, highlighting Kathryn's hair, setting it into a haloed glow of golden fire. It was the most naturally beautiful thing Chakotay had ever seen.

Kathryn was unaware of the effect she was creating in conjunction with the sunlight. She just turned and smiled up at him, still enthralled by the surroundings, amazed by so many sensations bombarding her at once.

Her smile rushed through him like a physical force, spreading more warmth until he felt suffused by heat and power. It was a heady, powerful emotion. He could have stayed right where he was and enjoyed her smile for eternity without feeling that he'd missed anything in life.

But he could see the gleam in her eyes, the light that said she wanted to explore.

His hand tightened around hers once again. Let me show it to you, he said. They stepped into the world together.

This might have been his vision, and his vision world, but she didn't need a guide to show her what she wanted to see. They headed for the lake first, distracted only by the marvelous sound of grass waving against the legs of their uniforms. The water was warm and inviting, its dampness blending with the odor of flowers and grass and dirt. The sun sparkled off the blue-green surface of the water to dance before their eyes, weaving hypnotic patterns.

The patterns wove themselves into more patterns of action and thought. Chakotay remembered wading in the lake, the feel of the water washing over his feet mirroring the hushed softness of Kathryn's voice when she called out to him to look at something she had found. He recalled the feel of his hand on her back, her touch on his arm. He ventured forward from the lake, and she ran to join him in the tall grass. He gave her a smile, and she gave one back. They wandered as the sun began to set and twilight advanced. Streaks of purple and mauve, pink and blue lit the clouds in the sky, and the smell of roses drifted on the breeze. He expanded his lungs to soak in as much of the aroma as he could hold. The air was as sweet as he remembered it from his earlier experiences with the vision quest. He could live on air like this. He felt free. He felt like dancing.

Unable to fight the relaxing sensations, Chakotay's muscles in his lower back begin to unknot. His fingertips and toes practically throbbed with warmth. He watched the endless striations and colors of the sunset, and ached with well-being. He placed his hand gently on Kathryn's back. She somehow embodied the smell of roses, and the sunset, and the intense rightness of his surroundings. He wanted to tell her what he was feeling, to express the unexpressable, to put a name to the perfection.

Kathryn looked up at him, her expression pleasantly thoughtful, and tinged with excitement, as if she enjoyed her thoughts and where they were leading her. She looked like she had just discovered something she had never seen before. This place... all this beauty.... She swept her arm around in an arc, taking in the lake and the sky and the sunset and their time exploring it together. It's so.... It's so you, she finished, perplexed, as unable to express her thoughts as he had been a moment earlier. She turned her head to let the changing waves of the sunset bathe her face in light. I didn't know, she admitted, casually honest.

How could she, he asked himself. How could she know what he barely knew himself?

Chakotay looked out across the waving grass lit to a burnished gold by the sunset, and saw his animal guide sitting calmly under a tree. Wordlessly and without hesitation, he caught Kathryn's attention, then tilted his head in that direction.

Is that...? she whispered, and stopped when he nodded his head in acknowledgment of the unspoken question.

His guide tilted her head in response as well, looked at him, and swept her gaze over Kathryn. Then her eyes met his, and in another sudden explosive wave of light and color, feeling, sensation, and grasping thought, he understood the message. His heart skipped a beat, and his stomach twisted at the suddenness of comprehension; he finally understood.

Well, this is interesting, he confided to himself while at the same time wondered how he could possibly be so dumb.

It all came together in that instant, like a holographic puzzle flashing its last piece into place. He didn't know if he had actually discovered the meaning himself, or if his animal guide had sent it to him out of exasperation. The flash only lasted that instant, and he had the impression that it would take several days of slower thought to piece it all together again.

Following his initial reaction came an avalanche of clues and comments and half-remembered hints that would have helped in his search for answers if he had just listened; hints from himself, from his past, from Kathryn, from the doctor, from his animal guide, from B'Elanna, from... from everywhere and everybody, if he'd only taken the time to pay attention.

First there was the need to share... but over the years he had forgotten how to share, and he had no one to share with, not even his guide... ... we're not all as good as you are at that cold look of indifference, B'Elanna had said, remarking on his ability to close himself off from everybody on the ship, from his friends, from his guide, from Kathryn...

... isn't that what friends are for? Tom asked him in the conference room, and he had agreed, though he had spent his time slogging through needless vision quests rather than talking about...

... that's not like you... Kathryn had pointed out when he refused to ask for help though he knew he needed it. It wasn't his nature to keep things to himself, but it had become his habit. He hadn't always been like that, so protective of his feelings, so afraid...

Blood. Pain. Despair and death... His guide was gone, maybe dead, and parts of him had died with her. Then the storm came, and the dream came, destroying everything.... He lost everything. There was nothing left to share. To deny sharing the vision quest, or sharing anything, was to deny his true nature. To deny his true nature meant eventual death. Denying either destroyed both...

Kathryn was the key to everything...

... Roses...

Chakotay blinked again, and the jumble of words and phrases remained just that; an impossibly fast medley of unsorted thoughts and sensations roaming unchecked through the planes of his mind. Some of them hadn't even uprooted themselves yet to reach the half-impression stage that the others had. But it didn't matter. He understood them all the same, and that's what was important.

He felt a tug on his hand, and he realized he'd been vaguely aware of it for the blink of time that he lay buried in his thoughts. Now he realized that Kathryn had left his side and was steadfastly moving again, this time towards the tree sheltering his animal guide. Her curiosity pushed her forward, and she pulled at his hand, wanting him to come along.

Choose, advised his guide.

As Chakotay saw it, he clearly had several choices, as his guide suggested; he could let Kathryn go and stay where he was; he could release Kathryn's hand and follow behind her; he could do the same and then catch her hand again further down the path; or he could go with her now and continue to hold her hand... her hand felt so natural in his... and share everything with her.

Stop fighting yourself... do not be afraid...

The words whispered in his ear, carried on the breeze and barely audible, a breath of air as much a spoken thought.

Chakotay looked at Kathryn, and she paused to look back at him.

Did you say...? they both asked simultaneously.

The vision ended.

Chakotay slowly grew aware of his surroundings and the sound of a medical tricorder scanning him from head to toe. That sound was becoming a familiar litany, he thought to himself in amusement. He blinked his eyes open. They burned, but they weren't crusted shut as they had been after his last meditation experience. It took a moment for his vision to clear, but eventually he was able to make out the doctor kneeling beside him, his attention focused on the tricorder's readings.

Chakotay turned his head slowly, careful not to move too quickly, unsure if he even could move quickly, and noticed that he continued to hold tightly to Kathryn's hand. She was still sitting next to him, her eyelids just beginning to flutter open. Tuvok was kneeling next to her, his position a duplicate of the doctor's; he ran a medical scan of her in conjunction with the doctor's obvious, though unheard, orders.

Kathryn drew in a deep breath, the air helping to dispel the last threads the vision quest still wrapped around her mind. She looked like she was coming out of a long and very satisfying nap.

She glanced at Tuvok, taking in his tricorder and his position beside her. A slightly confused expression crossed her face, as if she was only beginning to realize where she was and what was happening. She turned her head to look at Chakotay, her actions as slow and precise as his had been. Her eyes met his, and her expression either crumpled or expanded into a half frown, half smile. I didn't get to climb the tree! she wailed in a tone that matched the half and half mixture of her features; mocking, disappointed, and amused all at once.

Chakotay chuckled, and her words brought the doctor's head up with a snap. A look of relief washed across his holographic features when he realized that she was joking rather than trapped in the vision quest.

A tree? he asked, typically sardonic though curious as well. I was under the impression you had gone on the vision quest to find answers, not to climb trees.

Answers come in all forms, Doctor, Chakotay said. His voice grated, as if he hadn't spoken for several days. He smiled at Kathryn, thinking that he wouldn't have minded watching her climb a tree.

But the doctor was speaking again, asking necessary questions. How are you feeling? Commander? Captain?

Fine, they both said, their speech inflections matching as well as their words. Tired, they both added next in eerie synchronicity.

Tuvok and the doctor sent looks consisting of raised eyebrows to each other at the duet. Chakotay and Kathryn grinned as they watched the two officers mirroring the other's expression.

The doctor's expression deepened. Perhaps we should all join hands and sing a round or two, he suggested, embarrassed when he realized that they were silently laughing at him.

Chakotay felt a familiar wave of embarrassment start to engulf him, too, at the doctor's mention of holding hands; he still held Kathryn's hand comfortably wrapped in his own. He pushed down the embarrassment with determination. The embarrassment was an old habit that suddenly seemed as detrimental to him as the loss of sleep.

So he held tight to Kathryn's hand for just a bit longer. He took immense comfort from the simple contact, much more comfort than embarrassment.

The doctor didn't comment, and Tuvok knew when to tacitly ignore something.

Your vital signs are normal, and all systems appear functional, the doctor reported. I detected no anomalous readings during the meditation cycle. You were meditating for a total of seventeen minutes --

Is that all? asked Kathryn, baffled. It seemed so much longer.

That is a normal response, Tuvok explained. A great deal can be successfully accomplished through meditation over a short period of time.

The doctor snapped his tricorder shut and looked at Chakotay. I would certainly call this meditation a success. It was as normal as a typical vision quest goes. At least, nothing untoward happened on this end.

No squeaks, Kathryn teased.

The doctor only shook his head with that same satisfied smile he had displayed before the meditation began. No squeaks, he announced his agreement. Then he turned his attention to Chakotay. What about you, Commander? Did you find what you were looking for?

Their eyes trained on him immediately. Chakotay looked at each of them in turn. He felt relaxed, and bone tired, and very pleased. It might take a few days to get it all straightened out... He couldn't stop himself from glancing one more time at Kathryn. But yes, I found what I was looking for. He smiled, then gave Kathryn's hand one last squeeze before releasing it.

Kathryn squeezed his hand in return, surprising Chakotay with the subtle message of such a gesture.

Excellent, said the doctor, unaware of the hidden communication. Now I suggest that you get some sleep. Consider yourself relieved of duty until I tell you otherwise. Captain, sleep couldn't hurt you, either. This meditation may have been short, but by the looks on your faces, it was draining nonetheless.

She nodded, for once happy to comply with the doctor's wishes. Yes, I will.

Tuvok stood. I will take command of the Bridge for the remainder of this duty shift, Captain.

Thank you, Tuvok. I'll see you next shift, then.

Very well.

Tuvok turned to leave, and the doctor retrieved his medical kit prior to following him to the door.

Chakotay roused himself enough to say, Doctor, Tuvok. They paused at the threshold to his quarters. His gaze met both of theirs. Thank you, he said, the words simple but as sincere as his exhaustion could make them.

The doctor smiled. You're very welcome, Chakotay. I was pleased to be able to help.

Tuvok nodded. As was I.

Chakotay nodded back, and the two left.

Chakotay issued a deep sigh into the quiet emptiness of his quarters. He bent to replace his items in his medicine bundle, and the activity was almost too much for him to accomplish. Not only was he tired, but he was weary to the bottom of his soul. His muscles dripped with exhaustion. He rewrapped his bundle, then pushed it out of the way; he would put it on its shelf later. He was just too tired to take care of it now. He hoped he could make it all the way to his bedroom before he collapsed. Then Kathryn cleared her throat, and with a start he remembered that he wasn't alone yet.

You go, Kathryn stated firmly. I'll show myself out.

Chakotay nodded and started the agonizing, awkward climb to his feet. He didn't speak until he was sure he could stand and maintain his balance. He wove unsteadily anyway. Thank you, he said. For everything.

He had interrupted her task of replacing and rewrapping her own medicine bundle. She stayed where she was on the floor, but stopped her activity long enough to curve her lips into a soft smile. You're welcome, Chakotay. Sleep well.

You too. He turned and retreated to his bedroom, where he had just enough sense left to change into loose clothes more suitable for sleeping before he tumbled onto the bed, sound asleep as soon as he hit the covers.

END PART III

Part 2 || Contents || Part 4