The BLTS Archive- Sinking Slowly by monkee (wiecek@earthlink.net) --- Disclaimers: Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager and it's characters. The song "Time and Time Again" was written by the amazing Adam Duritz of 'Counting Crows'. **WARNING** This is NOT a happy story. If you don't like to read depressing J/C stories, then don't read this one. If I were you, I wouldn't! No one dies, at least not literally, but it's still sad. You have been warned... A plea: Please, oh please, powers that be, don't let it end this way! This one is for August, because it's all her fault! --- I know that it's her before I am nearly close enough to see her clearly. And although I am also too far away to hear her, I can tell that she is laughing. Even after ten years, her form, her voice, and her presence are burned into my memory. I've been thinking about her all day, of course. I knew that she lived here, in San Francisco, but I figured that it was a big enough place - surely I wouldn't run into her. I was wrong. I shouldn't have come to Golden Gate Park -- it's too close to headquarters. I can see that she is with her children. She has two -- both girls, I know. B'Elanna told me. One looks to be about four years old, with long red-blonde hair down past her shoulders. The other, still walking unsteadily, a toddler, has a halo of dark curls on her head. Kathryn is chasing them, and although I can't hear her, I can just make out the girl's shrieks of joy. Nothing in my life has prepared me for this -- seeing Kathryn with her children. I'm actually feeling light-headed -- like someone has just punched me, hard, in the stomach. They could have been mine. --- I wanted so badly Somebody other than me Staring back at me But you were gone "Time and Time Again" Counting Crows --- Looking back on it all, I think that I really lost Kathryn long before we returned to the Alpha Quadrant. Back then, I blamed her. I fell so hard for her on New Earth, and I'm still convinced that somehow, we were never meant to leave that place. We would have been so happy there. But then we were rescued. Rescued. And she couldn't make the transition. Couldn't find her way back to me as more than a close friend and command partner. I didn't like it, but I respected her decision. I knew that she was probably right. As a rule, command and romance don't mix. Hell, look what happened with me and Seska. But if you're lucky, once in your life, something special comes along -- something that's worth fighting for, worth breaking the rules for. So sometimes I would push, just a little. But never enough. Why didn't I push harder? Maybe I didn't because I knew that if I did, I could change her mind. Loving her from a distance was easy, and the sparks between us were exciting. Maybe I instinctively knew that if the abstraction ever became a reality, it would be...what? Complicated? Frightening? My feelings for her were so powerful -- were hers for me? And if they were, could we really expect to balance a relationship that intense with our command responsibilities? There were a couple of times when she was bending, giving a little -- feeling me out. After the accident with the Sacajawea, we went for a moonlight sail. We hadn't been so comfortable together since New Earth. I went back to my quarters that night overjoyed. Convinced that we were on our way to building a relationship. And what happened? Two weeks later, I slept with Riley Frasier -- a woman who meant nothing to me. I think that I had Kathryn, and myself, convinced that it was the neural link, but, on some level, I must have known damned well what I was doing at the time. I was instinctively distancing myself from what might be happening between us. Either way, it didn't matter, the damage was done, and Kathryn pulled away from me again. Just a little while later, we had the terrible argument about the Borg. It took months for just our command relationship to recover from that, and even then, our friendship was strained. Then we got the letters from home. The Maquis were gone. Mark was married. We were both hurting. We said things to each other that we probably shouldn't have. She told me she no longer had a safety net. I told her she had plenty of time. The conversation seemed so surreal. I told myself that I was giving her space because I knew that she was vulnerable. But her sudden availability and seeming willingness scared me. I was grateful, I think, to the Hirogen for providing me with a convenient distraction. They kept us all busy for months. And as soon as things began to settle down again, I fell in love with a woman named Kellin. I don't remember her at all, but I left an excruciatingly detailed account of our affair, in which Kathryn is not mentioned once. Did she know about it? Did she care? I never asked her. I suspect that she recorded the incident as well, though, because she began avoiding me again. There were a few other instances, but suffice it to say that whenever Kathryn showed any interest in altering the 'parameters' of our relationship, I found some way to sabotage it. One step forward and two steps back -- every time. Back then, I blamed her. But it was my fault too. --- I wanted to see you walking backwards And get the sensation of you coming home I wanted to see you walking away from me Without the sensation of you leaving me alone Time and time again I can't please myself "Time and Time Again" Counting Crows --- I think we both assumed that once we got home, nothing would keep us apart. But it didn't work out that way. We did get home, of course. In the sixth year of our journey. A barely stable wormhole. It nearly tore the ship apart, but we made it through with all hands. The following months were just a blur. The Maquis were 'pardoned' , and 'permitted to retain our field commissions'. Forgive my sarcasm, but I resented being 'pardoned' as if I was an errant schoolboy. I still do. Everything seemed to fall apart then. Voyager had sustained too much damage in its trip through the wormhole, and was deemed to be unsalvageable. And although Kathryn was widely regarded as a hero within the federation, there just weren't any ships available to give us -- it began to look as though the Voyager family would be separated. There was talk of Kathryn being promoted to admiral. Suddenly everything seemed so complicated. But she pushed and pushed and in the end, damned if they didn't give her a new ship. Voyager --A, an honor not bestowed upon a ship and Captain since the Enterprise and Captain Kirk. Many of our former crew requested to be posted there, including all of the senior staff. I still remember our conversation in her office, when she asked me to be her first officer. 'I can't imagine a day without you', she had said, echoing an earlier, emotionally charged conversation. The air between us was heavy with questions and possibilities. All that I would have had to do, I know, is take one step forward and touch her face. One step forward and both of our lives would have been changed forever. I stepped back. To this day, I'm not sure I know why. I guess I just found the prospect of serving under her again on a new Voyager...daunting somehow. I just didn't want to go through it all again. I stepped back and mumbled something about 'needing to give it some thought' and 'letting her know soon.' I'll never forget the look on her face -- confusion, concern, hurt -- it was all there. When she doesn't have her command mask up, her face can be read so easily. She stepped towards me and said my name. I stepped back again, excused myself, and walked away. The next day I accepted an ambassadorial posting in the Beta Quadrant. I left her a message -- a message, for God's sake- turning the XO position on her ship down. I left without saying goodbye. She tried to contact me for about a year. Her messages ran the gamut from concerned, to angry, and finally, just sad. In her final message, she blamed herself, as I always had. 'I know that this is my fault, Chakotay,' she had said, quietly and resigned. 'I just pushed you away too many times. I'm sorrier than I guess you'll ever know. But I can't keep doing this anymore. You know where to find me.' Then she had touched the screen, the way she had always touched me on the ship. She was always touching me -- my shoulder, my arm, my chest. 'Be happy,' she had concluded, her voice cracking, and tears in her eyes. I came pretty close to responding to that last one. But I didn't. And I haven't seen her since. Until now. --- I wanted the ocean to cover over me I wanna sink slowly without getting wet Maybe someday I won't be so lonely And I'll walk on water, every chance I get Time and time again I can't please myself "Time and Time Again" Counting Crows --- I've stopped walking and stepped into the shadows of the trees. It's absurd, really, my hiding like this. It's been ten years, you'd think I'd be able to have a casual encounter with her. I just know what I'll see in her eyes while we exchange banalities -- confusion, even now, and regret, and probably sympathy. I do not want her sympathy. There's nothing wrong with the life I've made for myself. I'm still an Ambassador, and while it's not as exciting as serving on a starship, it's respectable. Respectable. And while there isn't anyone special in my life at the moment, I have not lacked for female companionship over the years. But even as I stand here, I know. I blew it. Badly. We had this extraordinary thing, she and I, and I let it go. I remember sitting across from her at a table in a shelter on a planet a lifetime away. I told her a story of an angry warrior. A man who vowed to honor his woman warrior with his respect and loyalty and love. But it was just a story, in the end. Time and time again, I did not stay by her side. When she was ready to return my love, I ran from her. A man has joined her now in her romp through the grass with her girls. It has to be her husband. He looks just as B'Elanna described him after she returned from the wedding, over five years ago now, I suddenly realize. 'Dark, handsome, quiet, kind...' she had related, wryly, 'I can't imagine what attracted her to him.' B'Elanna has never let up on me about this. She can't understand, because I can't explain it to her. I don't understand myself. Kathryn looks content -- I can see this. Peaceful. I should be happy for her, but I am not. I resent her. I blink hard, but I feel a couple of tears run, hot, down my face. I turn and head back out of the park the way I came. I just can't...I can't face her, knowing what we lost. Now or ever. If you're lucky, once in your life, something special comes along. Something that's worth fighting for, worth breaking the rules for. I failed her, and I failed myself. And I am running again -- sinking back into my life, which will never be all that it could have been. I am no warrior. I am a coward. --- The End (The author apologizes profusely!)