Summary:  C/P,  J/C (implied only).  Sequel to "It's All In How You Play The Game."  One page summary of that story can be found HERE.   Chapter One:  Partially repressed memories cause some problems for Chakotay, Tom and Kathryn.
Author's Note:  Heartfelt thanks to Bronte* for her help and invaluable brain-niggles.
Copyright January 2002 Cassatt

Studying himself in the mirror, Tom slowly ran a comb over his scalp, knowing it wouldn't really make that much difference. He'd cut his hair so that it would stay in place. Now, it did, but he no longer had a way to make himself look especially good. He looked like he always did, and that was just slightly disappointing to him. He wanted to be different.

In the week since he'd recovered some of his memories of Hirogen Hell, he'd played pool twice with Chakotay and had dinner with him twice, and not on the same evenings. The dinners, however, had been in the mess hall with other people joining them. Tonight, he'd been invited to the First Officer's quarters to dine. Following dinner they'd be on the holodeck. He suspected this was a date. It felt like one, anyhow.

Chakotay checked the replicator one more time, though he'd already done it twice. And, as expected, the screen indicated that his choices were still sitting there, programmed, waiting to appear. He walked slowly into his bedroom, looking in the mirror again. Good enough, he thought. Neat, nice color, comfortable. Sitting on the bed, he took some time to relax.

It had been a week since he'd had his talk with Kathryn, a week during which their interractions had been more than slightly uncomfortable. He could see that she was embarrassed, almost, to be around him. He'd decided to do the only thing he could think to do to help her. He'd give her some space. In his quieter moments before sleep came, he'd admitted to the walls of his bedroom that he needed it, too.

It had also been a week during which he'd spent a fair amount of time enjoying Tom's company. Immensely. And tonight, they had a date. He knew it, and he was pretty sure Tom did, too. No one else did, however. And that was fine with him.

The door to her ready room chimed and Kathryn called for admittance, her attention divided between the PADD in her hand and the person walking to her desk. The beta shift operations officer handed her two more PADDs. She thanked her distractedly. The doors swooshed shut again and she dropped all three on her desk and exhaled loudly.

She was getting one of her headaches, the one that told her she was working too hard. She should be off duty, in her quarters, reading a book, having dinner. Normally, she might consider calling Chakotay to eat with her, but she'd barely been able to be around him. She knew, somewhere deep inside her heart, that she felt guilty about what she'd done to him. With him. She pushed those feelings completely aside, shoved them into a locked box and threw away the key. There was no time allowed for the captain to have feelings of remorse and guilt. No time at all.

She almost asked the computer for his whereabouts. Then decided she didn't want to know. Where could mean with whom.

Tom put on his shoes sitting on the edge of the bed. Without warning, one of the recurring memories of being Bobby flitted into his consciousness. Chakotay was on top of him and neither of them had clothes on, he knew that, somehow. It was so brief that all he saw were those deep brown eyes staring down into him. Then it was gone. This was the one he could never get a clear picture of, the one that drove him the most crazy. The Doctor had warned him that this was how it would be. No control over when they'd occur, or how much would be remembered. He'd tried to convince Tom to take the treatment and erase them permanently, but Tom had refused.

He had other memories that were complete and that he didn't want to get rid of. Being on the hillside with the stars overhead, necking with Chakotay, rolling on the grass with him, going down on him, seeing the dark haired man sucking him off. The emotions he'd been feeling were murky, and unclear, but almost discernably there. They'd enjoyed themselves. The man had tasted heavenly. He had in the tent, too. That memory of kissing him was one he could access, apparently at whim. He did, more often that he cared to admit to anyone.

He remembered some of the war experiences which were pretty horrible, but those, also, were tempered with some short memories of working with his captain. Smoothly. Comfortably. Efficiently.

All in all, the memories and the feelings they evoked were not nearly as unnerving now. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Chakotay took a deep breath and splashed some cold water on his face. He'd had a few of his flashbacks of being Chuck, with Tom, but this time they'd been followed by a very old and precious memory. Of Javonne, and him, hiking through the forests of Trebus. Laughing together. Hitting the top of the foothill, out of the trees and into the sunshine. Then looking out over the valley below, coming into each other's arms in their exuberance. Finding each other's lips, kissing each other with the hot, hard kisses of youth. Kisses that turned into slow, deep ones before the afternoon was over.

If he'd stayed on Trebus who could say what would have happened between them. He'd hurt the young man unbearably when he left to join Starfleet. Javonne didn't understand it, and Chakotay was as inept at explaining it to him as he'd been with his parents. He'd tried to find out what had happened to him but there was no word. He assumed his old lover was as dead as everyone else.

But Tom was here, and though in some ways he reminded him of Javonne, the pilot was too unique to be compared. Chakotay hung his towel back up and the door chimed. His heart skipped.

"Well," Tom said, "I think B'Elanna just wants to take some time. Away from me. To think. She was going to let the Doctor do his thing and then changed her mind at the last minute."

Chakotay didn't know the details of her memories, he hadn't wanted to pry. The situation was still too potentially precarious between them, in his mind. She hadn't come to him in his capacity as counselor, either. He sipped his wine. "Is there anyone else she can talk to about it?"

Tom smiled. "Besides you, you mean?"

Chakotay shrugged.

"That might be the best, actually. It's complicated, isn't it ...." Tom drank some wine, too, then fiddled with the stem of his glass. "Hell, I think I'd better just tell you, Chakotay." He raised his eyes to his companion's. "I told her. Everything I can remember. I'm sorry, I guess I think I should've asked you first if it was okay ..."

"Tom, they're your memories," he said simply. He was surprised that he was only slightly uneasy hearing the news. "What was her reaction? Did it have anything to do with her decision?"

"To stop seeing me? No, I didn't tell her until after. Did you know she was pregnant in the simulation?"

... "She's pregnant, with the bastard child of one of the Nazi's dammit" ... He moved an arm away from the face, it was Tom, crying... He focused.

"Chakotay?"

"I think I just remembered something else, or added something to a memory I have, of you and me. You told me that, at some point - that she was pregnant, then you were crying..." He stopped, suddenly nervous. They'd never really gone over details of what each of them remembered. Only talked in generalities.

Tom looked intently at him then shifted his eyes away.

"Do you want to know what I remember?"

"I don't really know if I do or not. I've got one memory that I just can't see more of," Tom said hesitantly. "No, maybe later."

"So what's important about B'Elanna being pregnant?"

Tom shook his head. "I'm not sure, I couldn't exactly follow her train of thought. She, she remembered that she was involved with a Nazi officer and, well, he was a little bit, um, mean to her, which in retrospect she thought she didn't mind as much as she should have. Well, not mean, oh, shit, I don't know how to explain it..."

Chakotay started to laugh. Tom looked at him sideways, his eyebrows raised, then started to laugh as well. The release of tension fueled the mirth and they laughed and laughed. They eventually calmed down, both men wiping their eyes with very broad grins still plastered on their faces.

"So," Chakotay said, "you were just a little too nice to her, is that it?"

"Yeah, I guess I'm not the nasty type."

"Glad to hear it, Tom."

Their eyes slowly locked together. "Good, Chakotay," Tom replied quietly.

"Here, let me get this," Tom said as he picked up his plate and started to stand. His hand ran into Chakotay's, which was also reaching for the plate. His momentum landed him firmly inside the older man's personal space, chest to chest.

"Thanks, Tom," Chakotay said softly, taking it from him.

Tom had the overwhelming urge to kiss him, to see what the reality tasted like. To see what he would feel. To see how Chakotay would react. Neither of them was moving, but just as he decided to do it, Chakotay pulled away and went to the recycler.

"So," Tom said, "you ready to start working on our program? Have you picked where you want to go?" He consciously lightened his tone, afraid his voice would sound husky with want.

"I know I'm ready to learn from the master," Chakotay teased.

Tom breathed a sigh of relief. He knew, at that moment, he wasn't reading things incorrectly. It would have been okay for him to make a move. It just might still be a little soon. First date, and all. He shook his head. First date, and they'd already had some sort of sex together.

"What?" Chakotay asked.

"I was just thinking, how screwed up this whole thing is. We are on our first date, aren't we?"

Chakotay smiled, and to Tom, it was a beautiful sight. "Yes, we are."

"Well, how screwed up is that? We've had sex, only part of which I can remember, and yet, we're just beginning to date? I put that kind of behavior behind me years ago..."

The other man laughed again. "And I reiterate - that's good to hear, Tom. Come on, let's go. Our time starts in five minutes..."

They walked to the door, which opened at their presence.

"You know," Tom said, leaning in close as they left the First Officer's quarters, "does this mean that if we decide to get married, we have to get divorced first?"

Laughter struck them both, again, and to Tom, it felt wonderful.

Kathryn got off the lift on deck two intent on getting to her quarters for a long soak in the tub, a glass of wine, and her book. The sound of laughter brought her eyes up from her boot tips. She felt as though someone had kicked her in the gut at the sight to greet her. Chakotay and Tom, laughing, their heads just enough together to see they were sharing something private. Together. Walking together, his doors just swooshing shut behind them. Off-duty clothing, looking more than casual, however. She tried to gather her wits as they were about to notice her.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she said. It came out harsher than she'd planned.

They both stopped short. "Good evening, Captain," Chakotay answered seriously.

She didn't like the look in his eyes. At all. He looked as though he'd been caught at something.

"Good evening, Captain," Tom said, just as seriously. Looking at him, though, she could have sworn he was thinking about something important. He was just, barely, not quite there.

The silence between the three of them was becoming uncomfortable. "So, is Sandrine's open tonight," she said, trying to make conversation, assuming that's where they were going. More pool. Together.

"Not that I'm aware of," Chakotay answered. "Well, have a pleasant evening. See you on the bridge tomorrow."

"Yes, good night, Captain," Tom said.

They made as if to leave, clearly anxious to do so. She let them go with a 'good night' and hurried the remaining meters to her own door, making damned sure she did not turn around and watch them. Once her doors shut behind her she went straight to the replicator, made a glass of wine, and took it to the bedroom. After two long swallows, she tore off her uniform and threw it into the refresher. She turned on the bath water, hotter than normal, poured in her favorite salts and drank the rest of her wine. While the bath was filling, she replicated more.

Finally soaking, she let her tears fall for only a minute or two. Then anger took over. He was on a date. With a man. After everything the two of them had been through, had just done not a month and half earlier. What the hell did he think he was doing...

The lift doors closed. Chakotay's heart was still hammering.

"Chakotay, are you all right? That was really, um, tense, back there." Tom looked at him with such concern his heart slowed instantly.

"I'm fine."

"She was upset."

"Yes, she was."

"Look, I think I just had another memory, of the simulation. I think. About the captain..."

Chakotay's heart started up again. Was Tom there, somewhere with both him and Kathryn? "Tell me," he said softly.

The lift doors opened and they exited, heading down the corridor to holodeck one.

"I walked into a room and the captain was already there. She looked surprised to see me and told me that you, Chuck, were in the bathroom. That didn't seem to matter to me, because I'd lost something and I was just there to find it. And I think that I knew you were in the bathroom, or wasn't surprised to hear that. Not sure. Then I was looking on the floor next to a bed." He shrugged. "That's all I can remember."

"Spirits," Chakotay said half to himself. Did she know that he and Tom had fucked? He didn't have a memory of her being in the room, his last memory was being with Tom, in bed. Did she know and had never said anything to him? That must be why she looked so upset. What kind of game was she playing?

Tom was keying in the access code for the holodeck. "What - did you remember something else?"

"No, I didn't." Some day soon the two of them were going to have to compare notes. Seriously compare notes. He wanted to keep his memories, but the disjointed nature of them was beginning to drive him crazy. They walked onto the deck and went to the console. "But for the rest of tonight? How about we just stay in the present. I don't want to think about the captain, and the Hirogens, I want to think about our program. Deal?"

Tom smiled, and to Chakotay, it was a beautiful sight. "Deal. So - where do you want to go? Did you decide?"

"I did, earlier this afternoon. Given the options, I choose San Francisco. Not the Academy. The city." He settled himself on a stool next to Tom, so he could see how he worked.

Tom looked over his shoulder. "Good choice, Chakotay. How about the area surrounding it, too? I'd love to see the Headlands again."

He nodded. "And maybe Mt. Tam? Or some redwoods?"

Tom smiled again. "Tall order, sir, but we'll do our best. It might take us a few weeks..."

"I don't mind," he said sincerely. And he didn't. On the contrary.

"Good. I don't mind either," Tom said. Their eyes locked again.

They spent the rest of their evening together working on the program, looking at various parts of San Francisco that appeared before them after Tom worked his magic. Chakotay did learn a fair amount from him, and found that he hadn't given himself enough credit for his own programming skills.

The environment surrounding the bay wasn't quite as difficult as they'd both thought it would be. They'd started with Mt. Tamalpais, Chakotay remembering his favorite hiking trail enough to reproduce it almost perfectly.

"I like this, Chakotay. But," Tom said, not meeting his eyes, "what would you think if we made it nighttime? There's a nice hillside with a view of the bay and the city..."

"That would be good. As long as you put stars in the sky, that is."

Tom quickly turned to his left. "I can do that," he said quietly. "As long as you promise not to bring anyone else there."

"I promise," he answered just as quietly.

After turning on the night lights, Chakotay continued to stare at the ceiling of his bedroom, unable to close his eyes for more than five or ten seconds. He fully understood the pent-up energy he was feeling was not only sexual from being around Tom all evening, but also emotional from the interaction with Kathryn. If it hadn't been for that experience, he would be able to feel happy, excited, and encouraged. He'd had a wonderful first date.

Seeing Kathryn angry and upset had almost ruined it. And although he supposed he could allow her those feelings, he didn't think they were fair. She'd been crystal clear that pursuing a relationship on board was out of the question. She'd taken advantage of a situation and slept with him, assuming he'd never remember it, just so that she could have the experience. So what right did she have to act difficult just because he was trying to find some companionship with someone else?

He rolled over and punched his pillow and not to get it more comfortable. He knew he'd been letting his own anger simmer over the past week and that it was mixed with so many other emotions he just didn't even want to deal with them all.

Tom put his hand out onto the empty half of his bed. He only partially missed B'Elanna's presence. Instead, he thought of a strong man whose lips he'd almost had under his own. Whose laughter he couldn't hear enough.

Chakotay sat across the desk from Kathryn and tried to concentrate on what they were ostensibly discussing. What they weren't discussing was the night before, yet the topic was on the table as much as the crew rotations, their foodstuff reserves, the latest warp core problem and Naomi's memory erasing treatment. And, as luck would have it, the last topic was the one that burst the damn.

"So, Commander, have you decided if you're going to take the Doctor's treatment?" She dropped the PADD on the desk.

"And by using my title, does this mean you're asking me as my commanding officer?" He crossed his arms.

Her eyes narrowed. "Would it matter? Would you tell me either way?"

"What does that mean? Of course I would tell you if you asked me." He relented, seeing her begin to shift in her chair. "I'm not taking the treatment, I decided that days ago."

"I must say, I'm surprised," she said, picking up the PADD again. "It looks to me as though you're quite willing to let go of the past..."

"Permission to speak freely?" He'd be damned if he let her keep this in the professional. This was personal. Completely personal. She nodded, but would not look at him. "Why were you upset to see me and Tom last night?"

"I didn't think that I was..."

"You looked like it to me. Why was that? Why can't I enjoy Tom's company? Have dinner with him?"

"That was more than dinner and you and I both know it," she spat out.

"And you think that because you know what happened between him and me in the simulation, right? You think you know what we did." He tried to keep breathing, but his anger was making his chest so tight it hardly moved.

She looked as if she'd been slapped. She fiddled with the PADD, still in her hand.

So, she did know, or suspected, or had surmised something. And for some reason, she thought he didn't. "Kathryn, I'm not trying to hurt you..."

"No, just make me look like a fool, that's all, Chakotay," she said with more venom than he'd expected. "Since when do you date men?"

He was momentarily confused. "Is that what this is about? You don't think it's right for men to be involved with one another? I thought you were more open minded than that, for goodness sakes."

"I don't give two hoots what anyone does. But since when is this something you do? You're not bisexual!" She threw the PADD back down.

He snapped. "Since when do you have any idea whether I am or not?! Should I have introduced myself, oh, hello Captain Janeway, yes, my dossier is quite thick, but by the way I'm bisexual. Spirits, Kathryn!"

"Don't you spirits me, Chakotay! For years you've been letting me know that you love me and yet the minute you and Tom are together and in different personalities, you become lovers? And now you're dating? It's absurd!"

He stood, his hands shaking, his heart thundering against his ribs. "You don't have the first clue." He lowered his voice in an effort to control his rage. "But just for your enlightenment, one of the greatest loves of my life was a man, a wonderful, caring, decent man whom I hurt very deeply and who most likely is now dead and gone. And if I even have half a chance of finding that again with Tom I'm taking it." He turned and left the ready room, without being dismissed, without letting the look of shock and hurt on her face register, without letting his own feelings of guilt and remorse cloud his way. As the doors shut behind him, he went directly to the conn and tapped Tom on the shoulder.

Tom took one look at him and asked if he was all right. He assured him he was, then asked if they could meet that evening, in Sandrine's, for some pool and some beer. Tom smiled his assent, a wonderful smile, complete with sparkling blue eyes. A smile of promise.

Tom watched the man he was with miss another easy shot. Drinking his beer, he walked around the table to Chakotay and stood close enough to him so they wouldn't be overheard. Sandrine's was crowded that evening and they'd been lucky to get the pool table.

"Don't deny it, Chakotay, there's something bothering you. Why don't we call it a draw and find a table and talk?" He laid his cue down on the felt. Chakotay sighed loudly, appeared to come to some resolution of an internal struggle and put his cue down as well.

Chakotay looked around the holodeck. "Come on, there's a free booth back there in the corner." He picked up his beer and wandered into the crowd of tables and crew. Tom followed, his heart rate increasing, wondering what in the world had happened that day in the ready room.

They sat on the same side of the small table by Chakotay's choice. He did not want anyone but Tom to hear what he had to say. As though the spirits were vigilant, the booth behind them emptied as soon as they sat. Perhaps, he thought, the crew members didn't want their First Officer overhearing them, either. He could have told them he didn't care, as long as they weren't planning a mutiny, they could do whatever they wanted.

Knowing in his heart of hearts that he trusted Tom enough to be able to say what was going on between him and Tom's captain was one thing. Finding the words to describe what she'd done during Hirogen Hell was quite another. It was at times like this that he wished the holodeck safeties could be turned off and their beers could be real alcohol. He really longed to get stinking drunk. That thought was immediately followed by the memory of his and Tom's drinking the wine in the tent. He realized the Hirogens must have replicated real alcohol, or had Harry rig something up. Likely to make the game more interesting. Little did they know just how interesting it had gotten.

He told Tom nearly everything, leaving out details that he himself didn't know, of course. His memories of being with Kathryn were so random he could barely put them together. Ten seconds here. Four there. Though he guarded them almost sacredly, he was beginning to wonder if he should. So there wasn't much he could tell Tom about making love with her that would embarrass either one of them.

The important things, what she had chosen to do, why she had chosen to do it, what the after effect was - those he told him. Tom asked a few questions throughout the narrative, but mostly just sipped his beer and listened, his eyes firmly fastened on Chakotay's.

"And so what happened today? I know you were upset when you came out of the ready room. I saw the smoke," Tom said seriously.

"Smoke?"

"Coming out of your ears," he teased.

Chakotay tipped his glass back and finished it off. He set the glass back down, hitting the table hard. "She didn't like it that I had a date with you last night." He left out the fact that their superior officer knew Tom had had sex with the man she allegedly loved.

"So you're supposed to stay chaste or something? That's not exactly fair," Tom said. "And you two fought about it?"

"In a manner of speaking. She doesn't think I'm bisexual. She claimed it was an absurd notion." He watched as Tom's eyes changed and his heart began to race.

"So you've never told her about Javonne, or any of the others," he said quietly.

"No. The topic's never come up."

Tom leaned in closer. "Why hasn't it, Chakotay? Are you ashamed?" Again, his voice was so soft, Chakotay had to lean as well, just to hear him.

"Of course not, I'm not ashamed. It's not something to be ashamed of. I like men, I like making love with men, I was in love with a man. Do I act ashamed?" The nearness of Tom was getting distracting, just as it had been the night before, in his quarters. When he had been certain Tom was going to kiss him. It suddenly seemed as though they were no longer talking about him, and Kathryn. They were talking about him, and what he wanted. How much he wanted it. The price he was willing to pay for it. Tom wasn't answering, just looking deeply into his eyes, assessing.

He reached out and cupped Tom's cheek and felt a jolt of something course through him. Tom's eyes closed for a very long moment. He moved his hand to the back of Tom's head, into the soft, silky hair there. The blue eyes opened and stared at him, again, and his heart leapt. At the same instant they both moved, mouths unerringly finding the other's, lips caressing, pressing, kissing... He was kissing Tom... with his heart pounding somewhere in his throat. Tom's mouth opened and he made a sound, like a sigh, or a moan, a beautiful sound which went straight to Chakotay's groin. Tom's tongue was begging for entrance and he could control himself no longer - he parted his lips with a moan of his own and Tom dove in.

In the next moment everything turned upside down. The deep kiss hit and his brain exploded - full, complete, memories assaulted him, the totality of everything they'd done together playing in his mind, over and over and over again. It was overwhelming. It was beyond erotic. He could put all of the feelings in place, all of the tastes, and sounds, and touches were where they belonged. Their kisses slowed and just as he was wondering if Tom was remembering everything, too, another face intruded. Kathryn. On the couch, telling him she loved him.

He pulled back sharply, thoroughly confused. Tom made a noise of complaint and tried to bring him back, but he scooted away, off the bench of the booth and collapsed on the other side of the table, dropping his head into his hands. "Fuck," he muttered.

"What the hell just happened," Tom, panting, said quietly, sharply. "Please tell me. Because I just remembered everything.... Everything, Chakotay, what we did, how we felt....."

He didn't have any idea how to answer that. What he wanted, he no longer knew. Or maybe he did. Maybe not. "Tom, I'm sorry.... I remember, too. I just..... I can't.... I don't know..."

"Shit...no, please don't."

His life was caving in on him and he was deathly afraid he wouldn't be able to get air. Kathryn's face swam behind his eyelids. Tom's did, too, and his body, his scent, his heart as well. But he couldn't breathe. "I need a friend....maybe more than a lover...." He thought he had only said the words to himself, but when he risked looking up the pain in those blue eyes cut him deeply. He reached out for Tom's hand but the younger man wrenched it away, raising both of his in the air.

"Just go, Chakotay, just leave me alone." His voice was like steel.

He thought it was the only thing he could do for him. He left the booth, his heart thudding wildly, aching in his chest, his hands shaking again, his legs like lead.

Tom only heard him go, his eyes were shut tight, his hands were clenched on his lap. He knew he was in a public place but he couldn't stop the emotional tidal wave that overtook him. Everything he had just remembered was so much more than he had expected, had really ever expected to experience in his life. Bobby and Chuck had done more than have simple comfort sex. The man who had just left, whom he'd just sent away had broken through his defenses so completely. In another guise, a different persona, but still the same person. Strong. Caring. Brave. Selfless. Beautiful. Exceptional. They had made impassioned love at a time when his heart was wide open. Right now, it was twisting and hurting and causing tears to streak his cheeks.

Walking the corridor to holodeck two, Kathryn kept her shoulders back and her head high. She'd decided she wasn't going to hide in her quarters. It was Thursday, and on Thursdays, if Sandrine's was open and she was done with her work, she'd go and sit and have a drink. At least she used to do that, before Hirogen Hell. Tuvok had told her he would be there tonight, and she could use the quiet strength of her oldest friend. She could watch Chakotay do whatever it was he was trying to do with Tom if she had to. She would ignore the feelings of helplessness the watching would evoke. Undoubtedly evoke.

The holodeck doors opened and the last person she wanted to actually run into was striding toward her. But as he got near enough to see his face her heart stopped. He looked terrible. Haunted. Wild. Devastated.

"Chakotay," she said quietly, automatically.

He made just enough eye contact to register her presence. She caught the flash of fury that sparked at her before he continued on his journey. Her heart started beating again. A dull pounding, cold and heavy.

Then her mind kicked in. What in the world had happened to him. Had Tom done something? She entered Sandrine's and began scanning the crowd for her Chief Pilot. His blond hair and tall stature were usually easy to pick out. He wasn't at the pool table, but some of his friends were. He wasn't at the bar or sitting at nearby tables. She wandered through the crowd, greeting people, certain he was there. Then she saw him, sitting by himself in the far corner booth, facing away from the room. She approached, intent on saying something, then stopped, seeing his head fall to his hands and his shoulders begin to shake. He was crying. She turned quickly, before he heard her steps, and walked to the fireplace where Tuvok was sitting.

They chatted, all the while she kept her eye on Tom. After about ten minutes, he got up and went to the bar where he had a drink and spoke with Sandrine. She seemed to do most of the talking and he just kept shaking his head. He also looked terrible, from what Kathryn could see. Harry joined him and they had their heads together for another five minutes. Then they both got up and left the bar, Tom with his arm around Harry's shoulders, walking heavily, barely greeting anyone on the way to the door.

So, it appeared as though all was not well between Chakotay and Tom. This gave her pause.

Chakotay paced his quarters, wanting to hit something, hard. He tossed some pillows around but that wasn't doing enough for him. He tried hitting the back of his couch but that didn't do it either. Knowing his room was soundproofed, he let loose a yell, at the top of his lungs, but all that did was release some of the energy. Just enough so that when he sat, heavily, the last vestiges of control he had over his emotions vanished.

There were so many things he'd wanted from his life when he was young. Love, caring, exploration, responsibility. Love. What a fucking joke. Here he was, so far from all of that he literally did not know what to do. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He still wanted to hit. The room was spinning around him, a vortex sucking him down. He needed to talk to someone. He needed a friend.

Without considering the consequences, he asked the computer for Tom's whereabouts. He was in his quarters, thank the spirits. He left.

Tom couldn't sit for more than a minute, though Harry kept trying to make him do so. He'd told his best friend almost everything, leaving out the captain's role in this whole situation. Only implying that she and Chakotay had had some falling out and the older man was hurting from it, and mixed up, and someone that Tom was feeling desperate over. He confessed to Harry that he'd been attracted to his charismatic Maquis captain when they first met but knew that the man was totally out of his league. He instinctively knew it.

Harry had been sympathetic, as usual, trying to get Tom to take a deep breath and think about what he wanted and whether that was going to be possible. Tom didn't know what to tell him. What did he want? He wanted what he'd felt in Hirogen Hell, on that one bed, in the arms of this one particular man, for that brief time.

His door chimed. He called for entrance. The very last person he expected walked in. Chakotay's eyes were sunken deeply into his face, his hands were behind his back. Tom's heart fell a meter or two to the floor as their glances locked. Completely. He felt a stab in his chest.

"Tom," Chakotay said huskily, and so softly he barely heard him.

All he could do was nod.

"Please, I need to talk to someone..." He petered out, and his eyes closed.

All he could feel was a desire to get the man out of his quarters. "Well, then, perhaps you can find a friend to talk to? B'Elanna? The captain?" he said harshly.

When Chakotay opened his eyes again, Tom actually saw them sink even deeper. He didn't say another word but just nodded incrementally, turned, and left. When the doors swooshed shut, Tom felt his self-control give way and tears begin to fall.

"Tom, what the hell are you doing?" Harry said.

Harry - he'd forgotten he was even there. He spun to him. "What do you mean?!"

Chakotay walked the corridors, praying that if he made it to the lift he would be able to call out his deck, and if he got that far he would be able to actually walk to his door and hit the doorpad. The vortex was everywhere now. This entire fucked up ship was sucking him down and down. The lift doors opened and thankfully it was empty. He choked out "deck two" and tried to breathe.

"Jesus, Tom, the man needs some help, couldn't you see that? Who's going to help him? He came to you. How could you be so cruel?" Harry was now standing right in front of him.

He had no idea, actually. He hit his chest with force. "Paris to Chakotay." There was no response. A feeling of dread hit him. "Paris to Chakotay." Please answer, dammit.

"Here."

That one word was enough to know something was seriously wrong. He looked sharply to Harry. "Chakotay, where are you? In your quarters? I'll be right there."

"Chakotay beta... one one, two one." The computer beeped the link closed.

He thought, with continued dread, that he knew what that had meant. He tore out of his quarters without saying anything to his best friend.

Sure enough, at Chakotay's door, it wouldn't open when he chimed, though the computer had told him he was inside. He put the command code into the pad and entered. It was the sound that drew him to the man, the sound of retching. He ran to the bathroom and found him draped over the toilet. His throat closed.

"It's okay, Chakotay, I'm here," he said, getting some cloths and running them under water, then squatting next to him, rubbing his neck, wiping his face. "It'll be okay..." He knew on some level he was talking nonsense but he didn't care. After many minutes of soothing and a few more bouts, the older man was finally spent.

Tom helped him stand, brush his teeth, then get prone on the bed, pulling off his boots, his pants and his shirt. Chakotay mumbled his apologies, which only made Tom more angry with himself. He had brief, flirting fantasies of spacing a certain captain that he enjoyed for what they were and then ignored. Once Chakotay was under the covers, he asked Tom to stay. He no longer had the heart to refuse. He toed off his boots and joined him.

They talked a little, Chakotay simply told him that he'd been holding in his emotions ever since the captain had confessed her sin, so that when the floodgate opened he hadn't been able to cope with it all. Tom took the risk and drew the man into a gentle embrace, pleased and overcome when he accepted the invitation. He listened to him talk and tried not to let him sense the tears that were falling down his face. He just periodically breathed them away.

He apologized for being the catalyst in Hirogen Hell. For being the person encouraging Chuck to make a move on Katrine. He almost couldn't face the fact that it was he, as Bobby, who pushed for this to happen in the first place. For this entire mess to take place. For this man he now knew he loved to set himself up with the one person who could rip his heart to shreds. He almost couldn't face it. Chakotay assured him that he'd done nothing as horrendous as he thought. That no matter what Bobby had said, the captain had been intent on her mission. She'd succeeded. She'd have done the same no matter what Chuck had been encouraged to do. Tom was only slightly appeased.

When Chakotay eventually dropped off to sleep, Tom continued to hold him, memories of their intimacy invading the peace he felt there, in Chakotay's bed. He didn't know what to do, to take care of himself. Harry's questions ran through his mind but he had no answers. This was now much more than screwed up.

He woke after having slept for about two hours. Chakotay was still firmly wrapped around him, but he gently extracted himself and got out of bed, put on his boots and left.

The ache in his ass from sitting in the command chair all morning drove Chakotay out of it, in one swift movement, startling the woman sitting to his right. She'd been there all morning, too, making small talk, smiling and relaxed. He was too numb and wrung out to respond to her joviality, but he'd held up his end of the conversations. He'd probably spent an inordinate amount of time staring at Tom but he didn't really care what anyone thought of it.

He paced the bridge, casually going from station to station, mostly killing time, allowing his mind to wander freely as he pretended to do his job. The science station was empty that day, Samantha was helping the Doctor with some inventories as there was nothing much for her to be researching. He stood at the console, pulling up some non-existent facts from the database.

The vision quest he'd taken that morning had given him a modicum of peace, as had Tom's nurturing the night before. His animal guide sat with him, on the precipice, overlooking the mesa below. She'd given him no answers, and her only question for him was brief. Which end was he looking at? Which end of what, he'd replied. Her golden eyes shone brightly in the sun as she cocked her head. Yes, which end of what, she'd reflected back at him.

He glanced toward the center of the bridge. Kathryn was studying their own console, as usual. Tom was studying the helm, though he'd noticed the pilot staring at the viewscreen more than normal, considering there wasn't anything to see. Chakotay admitted to himself that he'd been disappointed when he'd woken to an empty bed. He wondered how Tom was doing, and whether he'd be willing to get together that evening. Then he gave in to temptation, and let the memories of their intimacy invade his thoughts.

But on lunch break, Tom told him that he'd already made plans to spend time with Harry so Chakotay tried to respond lightly. Regardless of their closeness during the previous night, Tom now seemed a little distant and somewhat hesitant. Chakotay backed off immediately, merely told the younger man that if he wanted to talk, he'd always be available. He could have sworn that Tom's eyes were beginning to fill, but Tom smiled and thanked him, then walked away. He had the strong urge to follow, his pulse slowing as Tom moved further and further down the corridor. Instead, he watched until he rounded the bend, then went to his office, not having anywhere else to go.

Tom managed to walk all of the way to his quarters without falling apart. The doors closed behind him and he stumbled to his couch, falling onto it and grabbing one of the pillows to clutch to his chest. "Fuck...," he said to the ship in general. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He let himself cry. Just cry, just to get it out. Let himself feel all of the hopelessness that permeated his soul. The despair of being anything but Chakotay's friend.
 

End Chapter One

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