The BLTS Archive- Angels of the Silences
by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net)

---

Disclaimers: Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager, and all of it's sad and
lonely characters. 'Angels of the Silences' was written by Adam Duritz
of Counting Crows.

**WARNING** J/C angst alert  **WARNING** I'm hoping that this will be
the last angsty one that I feel compelled to write for a while. But
with season five starting, one never knows...Anyway, this one isn't
QUITE as sad as 'Sinking Slowly'.

This one is for gus again. Thanks for the music!

---
Well I guess you left me with some feathers in my hand
Did it make it any easier to just leave me where I stand?
I guess there might not be too many who would stand beside you now
Where'd you come from? Where am I going?
Why'd you leave us 'till we're only good for...

Waiting for you
All my sins...
I said that I would pay for them if I could come back to you
All my innocence is just wasted on the dead and dreaming.

Counting Crows
'Angels of the Silences'
---

He's gone.

Of course he's gone -- he's been gone for six months, now. Gone from
my life, anyway, without even a word. I know that he's gone -- his
absence is everywhere: on the bridge, in the mess hall, around the
pool table in Sandrine's. But somehow, every time I enter my quarters
at the end of the day, the simple fact that he is gone slams into me
with more force than usual.

Voyager-A left spacedock about four months ago in a media frenzy.
Nearly all of the original crew signed on -- a great tribute to my
leadership, all the reports said, to command the loyalty of such a
crew. I wonder if he watched any of the broadcasts. I wonder if he
could see the confusion and hurt that lurked just beneath my smiling
and confident mask.

When this ship was built, I had them use the original specs for the
Captain's quarters. I always loved my quarters in the old Voyager.
Oh, they were lonely, certainly, but they were also the setting for
many happy moments: conversations with Kes, amusing verbal sparring
with Seven, intellectual debates with Tuvok, and working dinners with
Chakotay. I wanted my quarters to be the same. Of course, I imagined
that they would be a lot less lonely this time out.

I was ready to let Chakotay into my life when we returned to the alpha
quadrant. More than ready, actually, I was eager to let him in! All
those years I spent pushing him away, time and time again. I loved him
so much, but I just couldn't get involved with him then. That, I am
sure of -- I have no regrets about my decision not to get involved
with him. My responsibility to Voyager and its crew was so staggering.
All alone in the delta quadrant, no back-up, a crisis every time I
turned around. And my promise to get that crew home at all costs.
There wasn't enough of me to divide between Voyager and a relationship
with Chakotay. A relationship like that would have needed, no,
deserved, much more than I could give it. And more than he could
give it. I was sure that he understood.

I also thought that he understood that if and when we got back, those
constraints would be gone. We would be a normal ship, with some room
for personal lives. Some room for joy. Joy is what I allowed myself to
feel when I met with him at headquarters to officially offer him the
position of first officer on Voyager-A. I was so damned happy, and so
sure of myself. I could feel the anticipation in the air between us as
we spoke. I know it was there. I know he felt it too. I KNOW that he
was about to reach for me. But he didn't -- instead, he stepped back.
Muttered something about 'giving it some thought'. Shocked, I said his
name -- I made it a question. And he turned and walked away. Left me
standing there like a fool. Why, Dammit? I' ve gone over and over it
in my mind, and I still don't know why.

Perhaps he was angry at my assumption that he would just fall into my
arms the instant that I gave him a sign. Or maybe it scared him a
little -- I know that it scared me -- the prospect of finally making
this dream relationship a reality. And I suppose it's even possible
that he never *really* loved me at all. Maybe he just got caught up in
his own ancient legend. But I don't really believe that. In my heart,
I KNOW that he loved me.

Whatever the reason, he could at least talk to me about it. Running
away from me like that -- he left me a message, for God's sake -- it
was so unlike him. So cowardly. So childish. I'm angry. Really angry.
I try not to let that show too much in the messages that I still leave
for him, once or twice a week, but I'm sure that he can see it.

B'Elanna is angry too, bless her heart. And she doesn't mince words
about it either. She's openly hostile when his name comes up, as it
does frequently. Tom and Tuvok are a little more subtle. Tom just gets
quiet when conversation turns to Chakotay, tense -- his jaw clenches
and his mouth draws into a thin, tight line. And Tuvok, well, you have
to look pretty hard to see the disapproving, almost paternal look that
slips across his face, but it's there. I would have thought that I'd
be embarrassed that so many of the crew seem to know that I'm hurting,
and why, but I'm not. If anything, the crew's silent and protective
support is a great comfort to me.

B'Elanna and I have grown much closer over the past few months. She
points out that I could force his hand. And she's right. There are
countless strings that I could pull to get a direct line to him. And,
in fact, I could easily take some leave and confront him personally.
She thinks that I should -- but I disagree. It seems to me that he's
made his decision and has let me know about it in an unmistakable way.
There's little to be gained by a confrontation at this point -- it
would just be awful for both of us.  It's a conversation I can't face.
And part of me keeps hanging on to the hope that he will find his way
back to me.

And so here I sit, alone, in my quarters -- staring out the viewport
at the stars streaking by on another routine diplomatic mission in the
alpha quadrant. These quarters, which I had so hoped would be full of
love and  gentle laughter; they just mock me now. The absolute silence
of them. The absence within their walls.

It might be easier to accept, somehow, if I had only myself to blame.
But when I think back, there was a failure on his part too. A failure
to truly communicate his feelings towards me. A failure to give me a
chance to see things his way. And certainly a failure to keep himself
open to the possibilities. I remember each of the women vividly and
the sick feeling of betrayal every time. I never told him how hurt I
was, because I knew that I had no right, but even now, I can bring
back their faces.

I'm alone here, so I let the tears come. They sting my eyes. Yes, it
was his fault back then, too -- and now. And the anger returns, along
with a desperate feeling of hopelessness.

He's gone. If only I knew why.

---
Every night these silhouettes appear above my head
Just the little angels of the silences that climb into my bed and
whisper
Every time I fall asleep - Every time I dream
"Did you come? Would you lie?
Why'd you leave me 'till I'm only good for...

Waiting for you."

Counting Crows
'Angels of the Silences'
---

I'm staring at the ceiling above my bed, wide-awake. Sleep does not
come easily to me most nights. I wouldn't have thought that it would
be possible for me to feel lonelier than I did in the delta quadrant,
but I do. I'm fine during duty hours, but once I return to my quarters
at the end of the day; the silence gets to me. Makes me melancholy.  I
lie in bed and imagine what might have been. I close my eyes, and I
can almost feel Chakotay beside me, his hands on my skin, his breath
on my neck.

I've never been one to wallow in self-pity, but I'm finding this loss
difficult to shake. What we had was so special -- I knew it, and I
KNOW he knew it too. It was a rare thing, what we had. The kind of
relationship that only comes once in a lifetime, if at all. And
somehow, between the two of us, we blew it.

He's let B'Elanna back into his life, and I'm so glad for both of
them. She missed him terribly, despite her anger, and I'm grateful
that he has someone to talk to, if he isn't going to talk to me.
B'Elanna told me that he flat out refuses to discuss the ship or me
with her, not yet, but at least they are there for each other again.

This is a completely different ship now. Much happier -- more relaxed.
Our shared experiences in the delta quadrant have made us close. I
have never been on a ship with a more companionable crew. Chakotay
would just have loved it here, now.  I'm so grateful that Starfleet
kept us, this crew, together. I had to fight hard for it, but in the
end, they saw it my way. I wanted it for the crew, certainly, but also
for him. For both of us. Because he and I -- it would have worked
here. I'm certain of that.

It's been over a year now since he walked out of my office and out of
my life. I've come to accept that he's not coming back. Ever. And that
he'll do his best to be sure that he never runs into me at any
official Starfleet functions.  So tonight I left one last message for
him. Telling him that I'm so sorry. Telling him that I wish him
happiness. Peace. But I can't continue to mourn -- I have to move on.
This thing -- it's killing me slowly.

He knows where to find me, but I know he never will. My final regret
is that I will never know, not for sure, why he left me standing there
that day. And why he never came back.

I'm crying for him one last time. The tears are rolling down my face
and dampening my pillow. I hope that Tuvok can't hear me through the
wall, but if he can, he'll never tell me...

Oh God. Chakotay, part of me will always be yours. I love you. I loved
you all along. Goodbye.

---
I dream of Michelangelo when I'm lying in my bed
Little angels hang above my head and read me like an open book
Suck my blood -- break my nerve -- offer me their arms
Well, I will not be an enemy of anything
I'll only stand here

Waiting for you
All my sins...
I said that I would pay for them if I could come back to you
All my innocence is just wasted on the dead and dreaming.

I'm gone.
I'm gone.
I'm gone.

Counting Crows
'Angels of the Silences'
---

I couldn't sleep, so I'm sitting on my bed, staring out at the stars,
as I have so very many times over the years. I can almost reach out
and touch all of the memories in these rooms. There are some pleasant
and happy ones from the last five years, but the more intense memories
are still those from my quarters on the original Voyager. Tonight,
though, I don't WANT to sleep. I welcome the memories -- I want to
savor every moment of this, my last night on Voyager-A. My last night
as the captain of a starship.

Tomorrow, we'll return to Earth, and I will officially transfer
command of this vessel over to Captain Tuvok.  Then I'll be beaming
down to HQ to accept my commission as an admiral.

I didn't think that I'd ever want to leave the life of a starship
captain behind. It's hard to say, exactly, what changed my mind.
Perhaps anything that I did after my experiences in the delta quadrant
was bound to be a little bit anticlimactic.  I've enjoyed my time
here, but our missions are, for the most part, routine.  And, of
course, things didn't work out quite the way I planned.  I became more
willing to consider the possibility of change.

And I met someone. Someone who has become important to me.

His name is Michael, and he is a professor at the Daystrom Institute.
I met him about three years ago, at some Starfleet function.
Ironically, the reason that he caught my eye was because I thought
that he was Chakotay. I saw him from across a crowded room, and my
heart nearly stopped. A tall man with dark hair and nearly black eyes.
I stood there, not breathing, with my mouth hanging open, wondering
what on earth I was going to say to him.

I must have looked pretty funny, frozen in place with a dumb-founded
expression on my face, because he started laughing at me, and then I
realized it wasn't Chakotay after all. In fact, except for his height,
and the color of his hair, he didn't look like a bit like Chakotay.

Still smiling, he came over and introduced himself. We talked easily
and wound up escaping the crush of Starfleet brass by going out on the
balcony of the reception hall, and talking some more under the stars.
I must have seemed pensive, because he decided to tell me a story. It
was a long,convoluted tale, and frankly, I don't even remember it. I
was only half-listening at the time -- because I couldn't shake that
first impression that I had gotten when I saw him. It kept thinking
that perhaps it was Chakotay after all, or some form of Chakotay --
his ghost, perhaps. Telling me a story with those dark eyes flashing.
So, I was staring at him in a kind of daze, and his rambling story
continued, getting more and more involved until he reached the punch-
line. The whole tale had led up to an incredibly bad pun. A stupid
joke ending -- it surprised me, and I laughed, really laughed, for the
first time in years. I laughed for a full five minutes, tears
streaming down my cheeks, unable to even speak. He sat there with me,
grinning and just shaking his head.

He does that for me. Brings laughter and joy back into my life. He's
kind and intelligent, passionate and driven. He's an incredible lover,
and oh, I needed that kind of physical intimacy again. I love him
deeply, with a kind of intensity I didn't think I'd ever feel for
anyone after Chakotay.

We're starting to talk about marriage, and while I know we could make
a long-distance marriage work with a lot of effort, I just don't want
to risk it. With him at the institute, and me stationed at HQ, we can
really settle down. Start a family. I want these things. I deserve
them. I will not lose this kind of love again. Not again.

So, tomorrow, my new life begins. I am excited and challenged at the
prospect. But on this, my last night on Voyager, I can't keep my
thoughts from turning once more to Chakotay. I so hope that he is
happy. I want for him what I have found. Finally. Love and joy...and
peace.

---

The End