The BLTS Archive- The Belated Universe
Almost Kathryn
by august (appelsini@hotmail.com)

---

In one of the absurdities of fanfic world, this is a companion piece
to a challenge piece! I don't understand how that works, either. . .

This is a companion piece to Michele Masterson's wonderful story
'Belated'. You need to read it to understand this story, the plot is
pretty much entirely hers!

All things Trek commissioned by Viacom, lyrics by Adam Duritz from the
song Sullivan Street.

cNov 1998

---
I'm almost drowning in her sea
She's nearly crawling on her knees
It's almost everything I need
---

It was almost Kathryn, even the end.

She came to me, that morning, surprising me in my hotel. I had guessed
that she would come, in the back of my mind I had known that she
would. It didn't make it any easier.

After the funeral, we had had dinner. In my mind, I could almost
imagine that these were the old days. It felt like the old days, with 
a bottle of wine between us. I found my eyes following her across the 
room in a way that I hadn't done in years.

I had to fight to remind myself that it *wasn't* the old days. That
she *wasn't* the same person.

But I could almost imagine that we were.


Things had changed so much, for all of us.

We had all become lost in the Alpha Quadrant, in our little ways. I
had spent the past six months searching for ghosts -- missing members 
of the Maquis who had been seemingly blinked out of existence. I 
should have stopped after the third attempt but something inside of me 
-- something close to guilt, made me go to house after house, until 
every  idea was exhausted, every memory was erased.

It refueled my anger in a way that Voyager had been able to quell it.
But I was too old, and tired for this battle, and the universe had
moved on around me.

I heard about Harry through Kathryn. In one of our infrequent
communiqués she had mentioned that his new posting had been declared
missing, presumed dead. She had said it quickly, housed between
sentences about her puppies and the new admiralty appointments. I
didn't have to hear her say it to know how it effected her.

He had never seen his parents.

Seven was perhaps the biggest surprise. After the parades and the
interviews, after her image had been shown on every news feed in the
Quadrant, she had simply left Earth. No one knows where she went. It
was a kind of a slap in a face for Kathryn, who had treated her almost
like family. Ironic, isn't it, that in the end the person she would 
let closest to her would be the Borg?

And of course I heard about Kathryn, herself, although at times I
wished I hadn't. As I continued my journey through space, searching 
for dead colleagues, I read about her desk job. About her promotion. 
It was exactly as she had wanted, I supposed. I couldn't imagine 
anything else.

---

In all the years I had known her, through all the chaos and
catastrophe that had plagued us on Voyager, the first time I had ever 
seen Kathryn cry -- really cry -- was at the funeral. It surprised me, 
and broke my heart with the secret realisation that I had believed she 
couldn't feel enough to let herself cry.

In all the years I had known her, the first time Kathryn had come to
me with promise and hope, was that morning in my hotel. She spoke 
simply and with passion, in that voice that made me fall in love all 
again. And as she moved to me, I was charged by a desire that I had 
thought was long dead.

It was almost everything I needed.

Almost enough to erase the Borg, and Kellin and Starfleet and Maquis
and the long fucking years of absence. Almost enough to pretend that 
we were the same people. Almost enough for me to begin again.

I think that it was my touch on her elbow that made her freeze. Her
eyes flew to mine, and she understood my intent. The moment blanketed 
us, and I had to reach out for her as she stumbled away, embarrassed 
and hurt.

I don't remember what I said. I don't remember much else about that
night, except that I *thanked her* for telling me. Thanked her for
giving me an eternal regret.

There was one last thing.

As she walked to the door I noticed, suddenly, that she had let her
hair grow out. For some reason -- more than anything, it brought tears 
to my eyes. A wave of memories from the old life assaulted me -- of 
New Earth, of moonlight sailing on Lake George. Of Kathryn.

I watched her hair swing down her back and my stomach twisted in
knots. I felt like I should call out to her, but my hands were heavy 
and my throat froze up. It was over.

So, with the distance, and the conversations and people that were
always between us,  I watched her walk away.

You see, it was *almost* everything I needed.

It was almost Kathryn.

--

The End