The BLTS Archive- Haunting Only To Myself
by august (appelsini@hotmail.com)

---

cJune 1999

Story Notes: Just a short little something. I am still haunted by
Boadicea's story 'Five', and by the madness of Kathryn Janeway.

Disclaimer: Lord knows I earn nothing from this. Lyrics from a rare
Counting  Crows song 'Margary Dreams of Horses'. Check out some of
the bootleg pages on the net to find it.

---
I have hollow eyes
Haunting only to myself
And even now I can't stop calling
this great big hollow in myself
---

I have these dreams, you see....they remind me of a painting I saw in
the galleries of earth. The scream, I think it was called. The
painting with the haunting eyes. I have these dreams with those eyes. 
And then I wake up and stare into them in the mirror. I tell myself 
that this isn't madness. That it can't be madness because I can still 
count to ten, and I can still name the consecutive presidents of the 
Federation and and and

I tell myself that this isn't madness as I smear the foundation on my
face. I pull my hair back and am sometimes surprised at the harshness
of my jaw. I wonder how anyone ever cradled this face, because surely 
now it haunts me. I wonder sometimes if my life before this was 
real....if it was all a prelude to the desolation of this quadrant.

I tell myself that I am Kathryn Janeway. I graduated fifth in my
Academy class. I whisper my achievements to myself like a mantra, like 
the single reminder of the person I used to be. I whisper them to 
myself because I am no longer sure if they are real. If I am real.

I use too many replicator rations in a scolding shower. I miss the
touch of fingers on my skin so much sometimes, that I think I would 
rather it burn than feel nothing. This is not well behaviour, I know. 
This is not who I am, and yet I have not been anyone else for a long 
time. My skin comes out red and sore, and I put on my uniform to hide 
it.

I walk down the hallway to the turbo-lift. Even, measured steps.
Ninety six in total. Every morning I walk past Chakotay's quarters, 
although sometimes I don't notice it anymore. He used to look at me 
with a measured gaze, with hooded lids.

He does not look anymore.

"Hold the lift!" Someone calls out from behind me, and I put my hand
out to stop the doors. Chakotay squeezes through and he stands next to 
me. He smells like soap. I try not to notice, I move away from him and 
lean against the wall. I hope that he does not notice, but also that 
he does.

This isn't madness, I tell myself. I am in control.

We are quiet, and the lift moves quickly. I think that he begins to
say something but stops. I think that I should make some excuse, that 
I am under the weather. I doubt that he even notices

"Kathryn?" I look at him, hoping that my hollow eyes don't show. "Are
you alright?" He moves towards me in the lift, and the moment is 
charged. His hands touch my neck, and he says quietly, "your skin is 
so red. What have you been doing?"

I am reminded of a moment, months ago. B'Elanna was appearing in
sick-bay with bruises and broken ribs. The doctor prescribed her with 
manic depression, and I sent Chakotay after her. The coward that I am, 
I *knew* what she was doing, and I sent Chakotay to deal with it.\'ff 
But who will deal with me, here?

"Kathryn?" He asks again, and I smile, hesitantly.

For one brief moment he hesitates. He rubs his thumb along my neck,
and looks at me with something close to kindness.

For one brief moment, I see him in my arms. I imagine the warmth of
his body, of his hands. I imagine lying under him, and over him ... I 
have to close my eyes.

"I'm not feeling very well." The words are so hard, and I want him to
understand. I want him to see.

He stares at me for a moment; longer than a moment. Longer than he has
in years.

"Maybe you should stop at sick-bay." He says carefully. I think that I
could cry.

"The bridge." I say quietly to the computer, and we begin the day.

---

The End