Star Trek Voyager characters are the property of Paramount Pictures.

Another old story never posted.

Warning: Deals with the sensitive subject of attempted suicide. The pressures on Janeway take the ultimate toll.

CRY FOR HELP

"Commander Chakotay," Tuvok said as Voyager's First Officer walked onto the bridge. "Have you seen the Captain today?"

"No," he answered. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I have not heard from her and she has not once appeared on the bridge."

"She's probably in her ready room."

"She is not."

"Computer," Chakotay said. "Locate Captain Janeway."

The computer responded immediately. "Captain Janeway is in her quarters."

"Computer, is she alone?"

"Affirmative."

Chakotay turned back to Tuvok. "Perhaps she's unwell. I'll go and check on her. You keep the bridge."

The Vulcan gave a nod. "As you were."

When Chakotay arrived at Kathryn's quarters, the doors were locked and he received no response to his rings. He concluded that she must have finally left her quarters, but wanting to be sure, he questioned the computer again.

"Computer," he said. "Locate Captain Janeway."

"Captain Janeway is in her quarters."

At these words, concern for Kathryn consumed Chakotay. For her to be in her quarters when she was meant to be on duty, but not answering the door, had to mean that she was either very sick or injured. Using his override command, he unlocked the door and hurried inside. As he did, he looked around, looking for Kathryn, but her lounge was empty and silent. Quickly, he made his way into the bedroom, hoping to find her there, but when he got there his heart stopped at the scene before him. Kathryn was lying unconscious on the bed, her face as white as the nightie she was wearing, and in one hand was a hypospray. In the other, nestled between her fingers, was a blue envelope that had his name scribbled across it. Chakotay could hardly breathe at the sight and tears flooded his eyes.

"No," he cried. "Kathryn."

The woman that he loved more than life had clearly tried to take her own and the pain of that was almost more than he could bear. Weeping, he put his hand to her neck and desperately searched for her pulse. He found it, but it was very faint.

"How could you do this?" he cried. "How?"

He then hit his commbadge.

"Chakotay to The Doctor. Medical Emergency. The Captain's quarters."

The Doctor answered. "On my way."

As the connection terminated, Chakotay lifted Kathryn into his arms and cradled her.

"I'm so sorry," he wept. "I'm so sorry I've let you down."

The Doctor appeared, arriving by transport, and he spoke urgently.

"What's happened, Commander?"

"The Captain's tried to kill herself."

The Doctor's eyes widened in alarm. "Kill herself?"

"You've got to save her. Please..."

Chakotay was clearly going into shock, but The Doctor could worry about him later. Right now he had to treat Kathryn. Quickly, he pulled out his tricorder and scanned her.

"She's injected herself with a lethal dose of sleeping medication," he said. "I've got to get her to sickbay." He hit his commbadge. "The Doctor to transporter room one. Medical Emergency. Beam me and the Captain to sickbay. Now!"

In seconds the blue light of the transporter beam engulfed them and they disappeared.

Dazed, shaking, Chakotay stared at the spot where Kathryn had lay, then he picked up the envelope that had been in her hand. With trembling fingers he opened it, and inside was a folded up letter. Chakotay pulled the letter out, unfolded it, and through blurred vision began to read.

"Dear Chakotay," the letter began, "I don't have much to say, but what I do have to say, I have to say to you. I want to thank you for all that you've done over the years, for being a wonderful First Officer, and for being my best friend. I couldn't have got through the hard times without you, and I want you to know that, I want you to know that I love you. I love you very much. But I can't do this anymore, I can't be the Captain anymore. I don't have the strength. And, the truth is, the crew will fare better with you as their Captain. I make the wrong decisions, I made the wrong one in stranding us. I shouldn't have destroyed the array, or at least I shouldn't have destroyed it the way I did. I should have sent the crew home first. We had plenty of shuttles. We could have sent the crew home in them. Then I could have stayed behind on Voyager and destroyed the array by myself. It was my decision, mine alone, and the sacrifice should have been mine alone too. I acted on impulse and ruined the lives of everyone on board, and the lives of their loved ones at home. I can't forgive myself for that. Getting home would have been a redemption, and I truly believed in the early years that we would get home soon, but now I don't think we will in our lifetime. At least, not with me as Captain. I can't live with the burden of what I did anymore, can't live with the pain and the guilt, and the overbearing loneliness of command. So I'm handing Voyager over to you. I know the crew will be in good hands. So goodbye, Chakotay. I know my dying in this way won't be easy for you, but I just want to sleep and never wake up, I need to sleep, and I hope someday you can understand and forgive me. Kathryn."

Chakotay's heart cracked at these words and he clutched the letter to his chest. He'd always known that Kathryn felt guilty about destroying the array, especially when they realized that the Kazon weren't as much of a threat to the Ocampa as they'd first thought, but he had no idea that her guilt went so deep, that her pain was so overwhelming. How had he been so blind? But he knew now and, if the gods let Kathryn live, if they granted him a second chance, he would do everything he could to make things better, to make sure that she never hurt this much again.

When Chakotay got to sickbay, the doors were locked but they opened as the sensors recognized his lifesign. He stepped inside, his heart racing, but his anxiety eased when he saw that Kathryn was alive. She was lying on a biobed, pillows propping her up, and The Doctor was talking to her. Tears of relief filled Chakotay's eyes but with great effort he managed to hold them back.

"Welcome, Commander," The Doctor said. "As you can see, the Captain is back with us."

Chakotay slowly walked over to the bed. "Leave us, Doctor."

The Doctor gave a nod and went into his office. As he did, Chakotay pulled up a stool and sat beside Kathryn. She was lying still, quiet, and her eyes weren't looking at him. Gently, Chakotay took her hands in his and squeezed them.

"I'm sorry, Kathryn," he whispered. "I had no idea you were in so much pain."

A tear ran down her cheek but she said nothing.

"How can you think this crew would be better off without you? You're the heart and soul of this ship. You're the reason we've survived this long, the reason we're thirty thousand light years closer to home. Everyone loves you, everyone admires and respects you, and everyone needs you. Never lose your faith that we will get home. Because we will. Someway, somehow, we will. And never doubt that you did the right thing in destroying the array. You shouldn't feel guilty, shouldn't beat yourself up about it. And you destroyed it in the right way. There wasn't time to put everyone in shuttles. And, to be frank, to do so would have been a death ride. Both our ships were badly damaged by the wave that pulled us to this quadrant. There's no way shuttles would have been able to withstand the pressure. They'd have been destroyed and the crew along with them. You did the right thing, Kathryn. No one regrets it. If we had got home then, if we hadn't all shared this journey, think of how much we would have missed. You and I would never have been more than enemies, B'Elanna and Tom would never have got married, Seven would still be a drone, and The Doctor would never have become a person. And that's just scratching the surface. Our journey has meant so much to so many of our crewmembers. Friendships have been forged, bonds have been made, and love has been born." Gently, he put his hand to Kathryn's pale cheek. "I love you, Kathryn. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone or ever thought I could. I don't ever want to be without you, and I thank the gods for you every day. Don't ever, ever, think my life would be better without you in it. Without you, my life isn't worth living."

Kathryn wept now, painful sobs that knifed Chakotay's heart, and she buried her head in her pillow. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

"It's ok," Chakotay said, caressing her back. "But there are going to be a lot of changes, Kathryn. All these years I've kept my distance, respected the parameters you set, and I've done so because I thought it was in your best interest. I thought pushing for a relationship would only push you away from me, that it would make you retreat further into yourself than you already are, and be a pressure that you didn't need. But I was wrong. You can't go on as you are, Kathryn. I won't let you. You need to bond with someone. You need to let someone in, need to let someone love you."

"I can't," she wept. "It wouldn't be right...Captain and First Officer..."

"What isn't right is you being in so much pain that you want to end it all. We're alone out here, we're still a long way from the Federation, Starfleet rules they...they guide us but they can't define us anymore. So many of them are redundant. I love you, Kathryn, and you love me. We can't deny that anymore, we shouldn't deny it. Doing so is hurting us both. Yes, a casual liason between us would be wrong. It would be selfish and irresponsible. But a loving, committed, relationship is as far from that as healing is to harming. That's been known throughout the ages. As an ancient poet once wrote: Doing, a filthy pleasure is, and short; And done, we straight repent us of the sport: Let us not then rush blindly on unto it; Like lustful beasts, that only know to do it: For lust will languish, and that heat decay. But let us together closely lie and kiss: There is no labor nor no shame in this. There is nothing wrong in what we feel for each other, nothing dirty or sordid about it. We love each other, truly and deeply, and when love is true and real, it is never selfish or irresponsible. The needs of the other person always come first. There are too many pressures on you, Kathryn, and a person can only take so much. I can't ease all of them. I would if I could. But I can ease your loneliness. So let me, Kathryn. When you're lonely, let me be there, when you're hurting, let me hold you. A life that is all about sacrifice and denial isn't much of a life. And that life has led you to this. There needs to be a balance. There needs to be some joy, some pleasure, some affection. So let me give them to you. Our professional relationship won't change. I will always respect you as my Captain. But our personal lives will be richer and better. I never ever want you to hurt this much again, Kathryn. From now on I want you to bring all your hurt to me, all your needs. Do we have a deal?"

Kathryn hesitated, but then nodded.

"Good," Chakotay said in relief. "Now, give me a hug."

Kathryn raised herself into his arms, weeping still, and Chakotay held her tight.

From his office, The Doctor watched as the Captain and First Officer embraced. They never had before, not that he had ever witnessed, but the sight was a moving one and did much to ease his concern for the Captain. The way she isolated herself, kept everyone at a distance, had long worried him. But there was a change in the air, he could feel it, and it was a change for the better.

"Computer," he said, taking one last look at the scene before him, "deactivate EMH."

The computer did as he said and in seconds he disappeared.

THE END