Warmth
by ALM_Voyager

© October 31, 2000

Disclaimer: Voyager belongs to Paramount Pictures. No infringement intended.




Sickbay was dark -- it was quiet -- that same silence had followed him, but this time offering itself to a different moment in his life. Why had he come? For her . . . just for her. He didn't want to wake her . . . he didn't want to disturb her -- after all, he would be there, by her side, come morning. All he wanted to do was be with her -- to serve with her -- and help her through anything that went wrong. But, more importantly, he wanted her to be warm again -- he wanted to see her wake with that fire that was so desperately hers. Would she change after the experience? He would wait and see. That was part of life -- never having all the answers -- even after they should have presented themselves.

He took the gift, a patchwork quilt, the one that he had replicated two days before the away-mission that had gone so wrong, two days before Christmas, and opened it to the dim light of sickbay. Laying the quilt, his gift to Kathryn, over her small frame, he sat in a chair beside her -- waiting for her to wake.

I sit here reflecting on the past, dealing with the present and dreaming toward the future. My name is Chakotay and I love Kathryn. How complicated is that?

I think about how the mountains never meet . . . but how people always encounter each other . . . and how not even death can separate them. This much, I know.

JC Short Stories