The Doctor left the room, and Chakotay turned his head and stared out the Starfleet Medical window. Eight days of lying in the hospital bed had left him well acquainted with the unchanging scenery of the building across the way. At least in a couple of hours, he could stare at the walls of his apartment.

"Chakotay?" Kathryn called from behind him. When he looked back to her and tried to smile, she said, "It looks like you get to go home."

"Yes, finally."

"You don't seem too happy about it."

He sat up and slid his legs over the side of the bed, positioning them more comfortably with his hands. "I am. I guess I thought I'd be stronger by now."

"A shattered pelvis isn't something you bounce back from quickly, no matter how skilled the Doctor is."

"I know. Believe me, I know."

She sat down beside him and laid a hand on his arm. "I have a request."

"I'll do what I can."

"I want you to come home with me."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Why?"

"There'll be times when you still need help. You need someone with you."

"Kathryn, I will not be coddled. I'm capable of getting around enough to take care of myself." He watched her expression change and noted that she looked hurt.

"I know you can, Chakotay, and I'll expect you to keep working as hard as you have been to get well." She hesitated before saying, "But, you know that you can't do everything yet."

"I certainly can't ask you to keep taking care of me. I'm sure that Doc can arrange for someone." She looked away, her grip tightening on his arm. He realized that he had judged correctly, and he could see that this was important to her. He laid his hand over hers and spoke softly. "What is it? Why are you really asking me to go home with you?"

She took a deep breath. "Because, I don't like the thought of not being there if you need me. I just want to help, to do something." She still didn't look at him when she admitted, "I was so shocked when I got the call that you had been injured. This wasn't supposed to happen, not here. We brought the ship home with the Admiral's help to keep our crew safe, and three months later you nearly died."

Chakotay thought back to that day a week before. The beginning tactics instructor had asked him to help supervise a cadet training excursion. The trip was only for two days in the hills around San Francisco, for the cadets to practice the skills that they had been learning for months in the holodeck. Chakotay had agreed to go along as an extra pair of eyes on the young students.

No one had seen the faulty cam that Cadet Bran had driven into the hillside before beginning her rappel down. Seconds later, Chakotay had heard the sharp snap of the metal, and the whine of the rope as it fed unimpeded through the carabiner. He'd lunged for the cliff's edge and snatched at the rope, the young woman's jolting halt tearing a tendon in his shoulder. Fighting against the pain, he'd used every ounce of his strength to hold on as he talked the cadet down from her fright, until she regained her bearings enough to seat a new anchor and take her own weight. He'd lain there, gasping for breath and staring at his bloody hands, for only a moment. That extra moment had been all the time needed for the edge of the cliff to crumble underneath his 200-pound frame.

Chakotay had woken up in excruciating pain at Starfleet Medical, with Voyager's Doctor and two nurses a blur of activity around him, discussing his shattered pelvis, concussion, torn shoulder, broken hand, and other things he hadn't comprehended. He hadn't woken again until the next afternoon, after surgery had repaired his pelvis, and he had found that his legs would hardly move.

Kathryn had been leaning over him when he'd opened his eyes, and she hadn't left his side since then. He tried not to read too much into that fact, but he was grateful that she had been there. She seemed to need to be with him, and he needed her.

Squeezing her hand, he sighed, "All right. I'll go home with you."

She turned to him and sought his face, blinking against a telltale shimmer in her eyes. "We'll have you back in the boxing ring in no time. I promise not to coddle, if you promise to tell me when you need help."

He smiled. "I'll try."

"Close enough."

Gripping the cane beside the bed, he slowly stood up and steadied himself before shuffling to the window. His legs felt leaden, his muscles slow to respond to his demands. He supposed he should be glad that he could walk at all, but the weakness was damned frustrating.

He leaned one shoulder against the window and searched the skyline in the direction of Starfleet Academy. Somewhere on the grounds, Cadet Bran was taking notes in class, or maybe sitting in the messhall with friends, or hiding a blush from Cadet Nehur, the young man who had caught her attention in the xenobiology lab.

Bran had come to visit three days before, nervous and on the verge of tears. She had apologized profusely for losing her footing until Chakotay kindly ordered her not to say, "I'm sorry," again. He had assured her that he was healing quickly, and that Voyager's crew had provided everything he needed and more. He would go through the whole experience again to keep her from harm.

Her brief visit had helped him, too, to see that she was okay. She had learned a hard lesson about being an officer. Accidents happen in the blink of an eye, no matter how much training and preparation go into a mission beforehand. Chakotay understood all too well why Kathryn had been shaken by his injuries.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Come in," he called.

Tom, B'Elanna, and Harry entered the room. Tom announced, "I hear they're springing you out of here."

"Yes," Chakotay answered, "I'll get to sleep in a real bed tonight."

"Your own bed will a lot more comfortable," B'Elanna commented as she slapped her palm on the medical mattress.

"No, Kathryn's." The three newcomers looked at him in shock, and Kathryn laughed. "Sorry," he chuckled. "I meant that I'm going to stay in Kathryn's spare bedroom for a while."

"That's good," Tom remarked. "You're doing real well, but you shouldn't push too hard. The admiral will keep you in line."

Chakotay slowly made his way back to the bed. "You think so, do you?"

Harry glanced at Kathryn. "Just give him the glare."

"He's immune to it by now. I do have a phaser, though."

Chakotay shook his head and lowered himself to the bed, rubbing his sore thighs. "I don't know why I expect any sympathy from you lot."

B'Elanna snorted and sat down beside him. "You'd be insulted if we gave you sympathy."

He grinned at his friend. "You might be right, but change is good once in a while."

She nodded toward his legs. "I'd say you've had enough change."

"True."

Kathryn took his cane from him and leaned it against the wall. "Harry, I hear that you and Libby have been spending time together."

Harry's eyes widened and then he glared at Tom. "Hey," Tom said as he raised his hands, "don't look at me."

Kathryn smirked. "A good admiral always has multiple sources for information. Are you two back together?"

"Maybe," Harry answered with a shrug. "We've only been to a couple of dinners, but we're seeing each other again tonight."

Kathryn held a lot of regrets over the lives that had been impacted by the crew's seven-year disappearance. She felt a little better knowing that Harry might have a second chance with his former fiancé. "Well, if it's what you want, I hope things work out for you."

"Thanks, Admiral."

B'Elanna patted Chakotay's knee and stood up. "We have to go pick up Miral."

"Thank you for stopping by," Chakotay said. "Bring the baby over soon so I can see her."

"Take it easy on the Admiral, will you? This is not your chance at payback for years of taking orders from her." B'Elanna jumped back from his swat.

Kathryn chuckled. "I'll call you if he gets out of hand."

The three friends left, and Chakotay lay back on the bed, closing his eyes. He tired easily, and the few minutes of standing had made his hips ache. He felt Kathryn tuck the sheet around his legs and then sit beside him.

"Do you need another analgesic?"

"No, not yet." He opened his eyes again and saw the concern on her face. She'd worn that look for most of the last week, and he hated being the cause of it. "So, how did you know that Harry is seeing Libby again?"

She smiled. "Tom's father told me when I spoke with him this morning."

"I'm not sure who the bigger gossip is: Tom or Owen."

"Owen, definitely Owen."

He laughed and reached for her hand. The gesture had become automatic over the past days. Both of them did it, sometimes without realizing they were reaching. They hadn't mentioned it or explored why they felt the need to touch. The connection was simply there, craved by both of them, and anyone who entered the room almost always found the two of them holding hands. Not even the Doctor, with his usually blunt manner, had commented on it.

With her hand firmly enclosed in his, and a small smile on his face, Chakotay slept.