Authors Note: The fifth season premier, "Night," is one of my favorites. I love how they showed that the unshakable Cpt. Janeway is finally emotionally vulnerable and in need of rescue. This story takes place at that time. Inspiration from the poem as quoted. (J/C, Rated T for dark themes)

Reviews are always appreciated.

I do not love you as though you were the salt-rose, topaz
Or the carnation-arrow begot in flames.

I love you as are loved certain dark things,
In secret, between shadow and soul.

I love you as the plant that does not flourish, and carries
Hidden within itself the light of its flowers;

And, thanks to your love, there lives darkly in me
The quickening aroma that rose from the soil.

I love you . . . I don't know how or when or where.
I simply love you, no problem, no pride.

I love you thus because I love no other way,
Except this way, in which I am not and you are not.

So close that your hand on my chest is mine,
So close that your eyes close on my dreams.

~Pablo Neruda

CHAPTER 1

Running. The feeling of hard carpet moving under her feet. The corridor she had traversed more times than she could recall had never seemed so long. Finally, she reached her destination and in her bones she knew what she would find. The doors opened and an eerily quiet sickbay lay before her.

She paused only a moment, closing her eyes and offering a brief, silent prayer to whatever gods Chakotay believed in. Then she took a deep breath and entered.

The doctor was standing over a biobed. Though she couldn't see his face, she knew who he was talking to. A moment later the he offered a sympathetic smile to the patient and then walked briskly to meet her.

She wanted to ask. But in her soul she already knew and the words simply wouldn't come. "I'm sorry Captain," she heard him say. Ears ringing, buzzing. Her knees threatened to fail her. "Lieutenant Paris and I operated for four hours. I couldn't stop the neuro-synaptic failure."

"What…does that mean?" She felt herself choke.

"There's nothing more I can do for him," the doctor replied solemnly. "He's dying."

The finality of his words hit her like a sucker punch to the gut and she tasted hot acid as it rose in her throat. "What do you mean there's nothing more you can do? He's still alive right? You…there must be…"

"Captain." The doctor took her by the shoulders with both hands and faced her squarely. "There simply isn't. I can walk you through the details later, but right now he's asked for you. And he's running out of time."

She stared at him, wide-eyed. Her feet seemingly glued to the floor. She couldn't be sure when the last time was she took an actual breath.

The doctor put a hypospray in her hand. "This is for pain, if he asks."

She looked at it as if it were some kind of foreign object. "How long?" She managed.

"Minutes. Maybe ten. Maybe less. I'll be in my office, with Mr. Paris, if you need either of us."

She nodded and sent a glance in the direction of the small, glass enclosed room. She could see Tom. He was sitting, elbows on his knees looking at the floor. His hands were in his hair.

She steeled herself for the sight and then walked to the bedside. His usually warm features were pale and he looked so very tired. She forced a smile and took his hand, breaking his concentration from the ceiling. He looked peaceful, but she could tell he was fighting to stay awake.

"I just spoke to the doctor. He says you'll be up and about in no time," she said trying desperately to mask the fear invading her voice.

Chakotay took a tense breath as if testing the air. "You're a good Captain, Kathryn." He exhaled, less labored this time. "But you're a terrible liar."

A genuine smile broke through her aching heart. She squeezed his hand and lowered her eyes to his chest. To look upon his face was simply too much. "I never could hide anything from you," she admitted.

After a moment she summoned the strength to speak again. Though she was confident the doctor would have seen to his comfort, she had to hear from him. "Are you in pain?"

"No," he breathed.

She nodded and felt thick air leave her lungs. "Good."

She looked down at their now intertwined fingers, relishing their warmth for a long pause. "I'm….I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

Chakotay smiled weakly and turned his head more toward her. "Kathryn Janeway at a loss for words. Now I've seen it all."

The silence was deafening and so, she said the first thing that came to mind. "Are you scared?"

Chakotay thought for a moment. "No."

She nodded. She didn't really expect him to be. He was one of the strongest men she had ever know. And his faith, she knew he had his faith. Oh, how in that moment she wished she had his faith. "I am."

He looked at her questioningly and she could feel her walls coming down. What was the point of keeping them up any more? He was dying. Soon he wouldn't be there to judge her, or to comfort her. None of it would matter.

"All these years. All these trials. The things we've been through together." She bent her head low. "I'm scared to do this without you. I don't know if I can." Her defenses lie in ruins all around.

He shook his head slowly. "Of course you can Kathryn. You always could. You will."

Kathryn pondered his confidence. She had no doubt he would be encouraging to his last word. He thinks I'm talking about getting the crew home. She thought. I don't even know if I can even stand without you.

"I'm not sure I want to," she whispered.

"Ok Kathryn…" Chakotay sighed.

It wasn't her intent to hurt him further. She didn't want to put this on him, not in his final moments. She wanted to lighten his burden as he had once sworn to do for her. But she had no other way to convey just what he meant to her. He lifted a feeble hand to stroke her face but she had to help him make it all the way to her cheek.

Chakotay let out an unexpected gasp for air and stifled a moan. His hand tightened around hers with pained tension. Her attention raged to help him. "Are you…Do you need...?" She asked, reaching for the hypospray.

"No. No." He sighed and began breathing regularly again. His grip looser now. "You're just blurry." She hoped that he wasn't masking agony for her benefit, trying to be strong now seemed so pointless. More than anything, in this moment, she didn't want him to suffer.

She found she could no longer bite back tears. As one, then another and another rolled down her cheeks. "I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere," she reassured and lifted his hand once again to her face. She felt his fingertips flex to caress her soft skin. She was sure he also must have felt the tears as they fell freely now.

Unexpectedly, he spoke again. "I wonder what the monkey is doing."

She sniffled and retrained her attention. "The monkey?" she repeated, certain that neural failure was close at hand and he was starting to hallucinate.

"On New Earth."

She broke a smile, and hoped he felt it on her face. "I'd almost forgotten about him," she paused. "He's probably taking a bath."

His upturned lips formed small dimples. His eyes, though still looking toward her, went through her somehow and she knew he could no longer see.

"Do you ever think about what it would have been like? If Voyager hadn't come back for us?" She asked.

"Sometimes," Chakotay breathed. "You?"

"Yes," she said. "I think it would have been….good. We would have been good." What she didn't say was that she would have given just about anything to be back there, with him. In that place where they could have had such happiness.

Chakotay nodded.

There was one last wall between them and as it crumbled the weight was palpable. "Oh Chakotay. What a fool I've been," she admitted. "I thought we had all the time in the world… No matter what happened, I thought we had time. But you knew, didn't you? You knew this would end too soon."

Chakotay nodded again, just once, weakly. She could feel his hand slipping from hers down the side of her face.

"I love you, you know that." She prayed the words didn't come too late. She knew he could hear, but could he still understand what she was finally confessing. Did he know how much regret she had? That these would be the first time she said the words and the last thing he would hear.

"I know," he mouthed, though she could no longer perceive his voice.

She watched as his eyes fluttered shut, felt as his hand gently slipped from her grasp. His chest still rose with shallow, but serene, breath. Adrenaline shot through her. She looked up, searching for the doctor but he was already coming to them.

Softly, the doctor confirmed. "He's in a coma, it won't be long now. If you'd like I can…."

"I'm not leaving," she interrupted, more forcefully than she expected. How dare he think that I'd leave? Doesn't he know? Doesn't everyone know? She thought with anger.

"Of course," the doctor replied, then he removed himself from her presence once again.

She crossed Chakotay's arm over his chest, their fingers still entwined. She gently moved her hair with her other hand and laid her ear upon him, eyes toward his face. She listened to his breathing and the steady beating in his ribs as it continued for what seemed, to her, a long time. Peacefully, both slowed until she found she was waiting for another breath, another heartbeat that would never come. His shirt was soaked in her tears, the salty flavor overloaded her senses.

After a time she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder then heard Tom's soft voice, "He's gone, Captain."

She swallowed hard and untangled herself from her love. She smoothed a tender palm over his forehead tracing the lines of his tattoo, committing it to memory, willing it to never leave her mind. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve then stood to face the Lieutenant. She heard him ask quietly, "Is there anything I can do, ma'am?"

She shook her head. "No. No. Chakotay's people, they bury their dead before sunrise the next day." She wasn't sure where those words had come from, did she even know his wishes? Her head started to spin a bit. "It's already very late. I have things I need to take care of."

In a fog, she found her feet carrying her across the bay to the doors. With each step she disassociated herself from the reality of what had just transpired. With each step, the bright lights turned a strange shade of grey. The doors swished open and she stepped out into a future that she never wanted to imagine. A future without him.

And then, she was falling. Black abyss. Falling. Nothing.