StoriesWeTell

A place for my J/C fanfiction. You can also find me on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the same username

[bebx]

Ao3 writers are the strongest Avengers

[glumshoe]

has anyone in the universe aged as radiantly as Nichelle Nichols

[majokkomaimun]

WAIT THIS IS A PICTURE????????????? I THOUGHT THIS WAS LEGIT ART FOR SOME GODDESS, WHAT THE ACTUAL DIVINE SHIT IS THIS

[glumshoe]

she looks like that IRL too

I saw her at a distance at a convention a few years ago and she like... shimmered in a way that made her seem more real than real

she was very pretty as a young woman, but so are lots of people—as an old woman, she stopped me in my tracks like a human traffic light

[st0ri3sw3t3ll]

R.I.P beautiful queen <3

[st0ri3sw3t3ll]

Just read this https://www.jcdeservedbetter.com/

I’m so confused.

I had NO idea any of this was going on in 2020/2021. I was busy having a baby at that time and dropped my then fic in favor of real life. I came back in the winter/spring of 2022, found out about some drama over this website’s name **shrug*, and now I read all of this.

I was a fan of J/C and VOY way back in 2003 and the fandom never left my heart. The very first fic my young teen eyes ever read were J/C fics, and now I come back to this?

What the hell happened to you guys? I’m so sad and honestly SUPER confused. This whole thing has kind of put me off the fandom entirely.

Not sure what to do here.

I’m putting everything on hiatus for the time being, might even just shelve my shit and move onto something else.

This makes me so sad.

To everyone who was involved in this shitshow in a negative manner:

Do better, man.

Just

Do better.

[st0ri3sw3t3ll]

May I just say I keep getting blown away by all of the amazing J/C writers that are out there. Do you guys know how rare it is to find so many good writers in one place? For one fandom?! FOR ONE SHIP?!

Nearly every single fic I click on that’s got a Janeway/Chakotay tag is brilliantly written.

I just can’t.

So much talent concentrated in one place.

Just take a moment and think about how amazing and rare that is.

Just do it

Take a moment. 

[st0ri3sw3t3ll]

Tomorrow’s Yesterday - Chapter 5

They met outside on academy grounds that very same afternoon.

She’d replied to his message much faster than he’d anticipated. Or actually, in truth, he’d assumed he would never hear from her again, conjuring up scenarios in which she’d disappeared and he would have had to hunt her down, force her to speak to him, and explain herself. He was convinced that she had something to do with the state he was in, and that once he’d made that connection, she would run instead of come clean. But none of that had come to pass. Her comm details were true to word, and when her message popped up on his screen, he even briefly hesitated.  

If they met again, what would happen to his mind?

He found her sitting at a picnic table surrounded by rose bushes. She stared ahead rather forlornly and cradled a cup in her hand, which he knew contained coffee, black. The knowledge made him wary, and he stopped to just look at her for a moment. To have guessed that it was coffee wouldn’t have been such a miracle, but to know how she liked it, that was where things got complicated. He shouldn’t be able to know that. He shouldn’t be able to know she was addicted to the stuff either, but here they were.

She caught him loitering and gave him an ambiguous smile.

“Hi.”

He crossed the remaining distance, and sat down opposite her.

“Hi.”

She looked somewhat insecure, smaller than he remembered and for the first time he wondered if maybe he’d cast her in the wrong role. Could she be a victim like him?

“Lovely day,” she said, opting for the safest of conversation starters in all of the worlds across every galaxy known to man. But it worked, he felt himself relax and returned the sentiment.

“It’s turning out to be a sunny spring this year.”

She nodded.

“You wanted to meet,” she cut to the chase, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Yes,” he said, and without waiting for the correct moment to broach the subject he also cut straight to the chase. “What do you know about the USS Voyager?”  

Her entire demeanor changed; the warmth in her expression turned to instant shock, but only for a second. Then she blinked and a familiar mask slipped into place. He hated it when she turned that mask on him, always had.

“Why are you asking me about a lost ship, Commander?”

Her walls went up, and her defenses blinked at a high alert. If he said the wrong thing, he might not get anything out of her, and he needed answers, desperately.

“Tell me, Captain,” he began. “How do I know that you like your coffee black?”

She stared at him but didn’t respond, so he went on instead.

“How do I know that when you were younger you preferred studying quantum mechanics over the basic gardening skills your parents insisted you learn. Or that you played tennis at a rather high level when you were a teenager and couldn’t stand it when you lost? You’re scared of lightening, but wouldn’t ever admit to it. And you carry immense guilt for destroying the Caretaker’s array that stranded your entire crew in the Delta Quadrant three years ago. Tell me, Kathryn, how do I know all of these things?”

She swallowed hard and it took him every ounce of self-control not to break under the pressure of the headache that was beating behind his eyes. He didn’t know any of these things until his mouth started forming the words and the images burst across his retinas with such conviction, he knew it was true; he knew she was the Captain of that lost ship, but how he fit into all of it he wasn’t sure, yet. He knew this about her, but he didn’t know any more about himself. It was like he was a spectator watching scenes from 21st century movies, the ones his sister used to drag him downtown for to watch at old fashioned cinemas from the 20th century. But instead of being at the movies, he was watching scenes from someone’s life, a real life.    

Rather than answer him, she came back with a question, which seemed to be some sort of test.

“Chakotay told me a story once,” she began. “We were stranded on a planet and life was getting a little bit too real for me. What was the story about?”

He felt the emotions before he remembered the words. The slow burn of respect morphed into affection, and a promise of a tomorrow that never came. An inner peace he hadn’t known he’d craved, combined with a loss that had shaped him in ways he’d never voiced, hadn’t told her about.  

“It was an ancient legend about a warrior who learned the true meaning of peace.”

She nodded, seemed satisfied, but he wasn’t done, yet. If this Chakotay was his alternate, his past and present, then he needed to convey the emotion too.

“It was a way of telling you he loved you; it was easier to say that way.”

Before he could read her reaction, she turned away abruptly, but he noticed the slight tremble in her hand as she let go of the cup.

“But I’m not him,” he continued. “You must know that.”

She nodded with her back to him, and he gave her a moment to gather her thoughts. He only remembered the emotion, not the relationship, and he wondered if they’d been involved. If his counterpart had meant as much to her as she did to him. He knew that that Chakotay loved her. It was an emotion attached to every single memory he had of her; it always came right before each flash and it had been the first thing he noticed when this had all started. Even though the complete picture still eluded him, last night he realized that that man loved deeply, perhaps deeper than he did.

She turned back, the white around her pupils a little redder than before, and he resisted the urge to reach out, to comfort, like the other him would have done.

“What do you want to know?”

“Why is this happening to me?”  

She bit her lip and shook her head.

“I don’t know why this is happening to you specifically. I might only be able to verify the who.”

“There’s someone else involved?!”

“He’s the only one involved,” she rolled her eyes, and more questions started to flood his mind.

“Who?”

“More like a what.”

Chakotay frowned, opened his mouth, but she held up her hand intend on elaborating on the unbelievable that framed his current existence.

“His name is Q. You might have heard of him.”

“The omnipotent being that terrorized Captain Picard?”

This was starting to take an unexpected turn.  

“His cases are required reading at the academy. He’s actually part of the first-year tactical training course I teach.”

“Is he now?” she said somewhat cynically. “He’d be thrilled.”

“You’ve met him?”

Her lips tightened, set in a straight line, as she inclined her head.

“I’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting him on several separate occasions over the past couple of years.”  

Intrigued, the scholar was tempted to deviate from the main subject at hand, to ask her arbitrary questions about rudimentary behavioral patterns and cultural compatibility. He’d been studying the Q for some time now, they fascinated him beyond any other topic he was currently teaching or researching, but he silenced the scholar and forced himself to focus on what he really needed to know.

“What does Q have to do with me?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “When you first approached me, you didn’t know who I was, did you?”

“I’d never met you,” he confirmed. “But I’d heard of you.”

She nodded.

“When did you become aware?”

“Of the other Chakotay?” he said. “That same night.”

He could almost hear the cogs working in her brain. The way her attention shifted inward, right before she had an epiphany. It was one of the things that had first drawn him to her, watching her mind at work. No. He scolded, not him; the other him.

“Maybe, we can deduce from that, that meeting me triggered those latent memories.”

He shook his head, the confusion in his mind growing stronger as the two worlds finally collided. There was so much he still didn’t understand. So much he couldn’t just accept or comprehend while she hurled conclusions at him that did not fit with the world he knew to be true; the world he belonged to.

“Stop,” he said and brought his fingers up to rub his temples. “First tell me who or what you are. Clearly, you’re not the same Kathryn Janeway that’s supposed to be the Captain of the USS Solace. But unlike me your past experiences seem to match up perfectly with what you remember, whereas mine don’t.”

She cast her eyes downward.

“You’re right. I don’t belong here,” she admitted. “From my perspective this life either runs parallel to my own dimension and I’ve been switched with the Kathryn Janeway that’s native to this reality, or,” she hesitated, and he sensed fear in the alternative she was about to voice. “History’s been changed.”

“And Q did this to you?” he concluded.

She nodded.

“Why?”

“He thought that’s what I wanted,” she waved her hands theatrically. “Desired the most.”

“I didn’t think the Q were in the business of granting wishes like common djinns,” he joked.

She smiled.

“It was his way of saying thank you.”

“For what?”

“We helped him,” she explained. “The Q continuum was at war; it was starting to affect the entire universe. We–”

“Q wanted to mate with you,” he interrupted as memories flowed once more, bursting through a dam of repression, and the words, just streaming out of him.

Her smile turned sheepish.

“That was his initial solution, but–”

“He was jealous.”

“What?”

“Your Chakotay. He didn’t like Q, or his proposal. It bothered him.”

She stopped and held his eyes; a quiet longing contained within its depths and he didn’t have to wonder at its meaning. It was a silent reciprocation, a confirmation of the suspicion that lingered at the back of his own mind. He loved her, and she loved him.

This needed to stop.

Now.  

“Nothing happened, Chakotay,” she all but whispered, her words blurring the lines between him and the other him. “The Q resolved their issues with a little help from Voyager, and because we helped him, I suppose, he decided to repay that debt in his own twisted way.”  

More memories were about to burst through; he could feel them scratching at the door of liberty, but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t. This was dangerous. What if this, whatever it was, would change his own mind? His own perspective? He wouldn’t sacrifice his life for a life he never lived, and a woman he never loved. This was ridiculous. These feelings weren’t his. He had to leave, get away from her while he still could.      

“No,” he cut her off. “I don’t want this. This needs to stop. I don’t need these man’s memories. I don’t care what’s going on, or how this is happening. I don’t want any part of it.”

He stood intend on walking away, but then changed his mind and turned back with a justification on his lips.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you, Kathryn,” and he meant it. “But I can’t get involved with this. Voyager is not my life, and certainly not my reality. I’ve got a wife and a child, and a good job. Whatever’s going on between you and this Q is none of my business.”

Hurt flashed across her face, just for a moment, then she nodded.

“I’m sorry too,” she said. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. You seem happy in this life. I have no right to impose upon that,” she finished, a crack on the last syllable.

“Good luck to you,” he said with a curt nod and a finality to his stance.

“Yes,” she smiled kindly. “And to you.”

“Hope you find what you’re looking for.”

He didn’t wait for her reply as he walked away, tapped his badge before he was even out of earshot.  

“Chakotay to Dr. Pulaski,” he bellowed. “We need to talk.”

[st0ri3sw3t3ll]

Tomorrow’s Yesterday - Chapter 4

“You’ve been having these headaches for a week, you say?”

“About.”

“Any other symptoms?”

Chakotay paused, unsure if it was relevant to mention.

“I keep having these reoccurring dreams,” he shifted uncomfortably. “They are always about the same place, and the same people.”

“People you know?”

“Yes,” he hesitated. “No,” he corrected. “But their faces are so familiar. And I met a woman last week whom keeps appearing among the others in my dreams.”

“A woman, eh?”

“A Captain,” he said, as though it needed clarifying.

Dr. Pulaski smiled and looked down at her tricorder.

“Anyone I know?”

“She told me her name was Kathryn Janeway.”

“Captain of the USS Solace?” she halted her motions with the hand scanner, and he could clearly read the question on Dr. Pulaski’s face. What would a Captain of Janeway’s caliber want with a Starfleet professor who’d been training first year cadets for the past three years?

He nodded.

“Did these headaches start before or after you met with her?”

He frowned and took a moment to consider the question.

“What are you implying?”

Dr. Pulaski shook her head.

“Just eliminating correlations,” she said, noncommittally.  

“After,” he said, without doubt.

She continued her scan in silence, humming at nothing in particular as she studied the readings.

“You seem absolutely fine,” she closed her tricorder. “But, for the heck of it, I’d like to do a more in-depth neural scan. This tricorder can only do so much, and your symptoms could be linked to neurogenic interference that might be inducing strong hallucinogenic dreams of the sort you just described.”

“That sounds serious.”

“It could be, but I doubt we’ll find anything of the sort,” she reassured. “Honestly, if you’d ask me, I would say that you’re in dire need of a long overdue vacation, but the Doctor in me always desires to be a bit more thorough. So, thorough you shall get.”

He laughed, and the tension in his shoulders slacked.

“Alright then,” he said and hopped off the biobed. “Where do you want me?”

=/\= =\/=  

“Earth to Kathryn,” Phoebe snapped her fingers in front of her sister’s face.

Kathryn blinked rapidly, folding her expression into one of neutral stoicism as she turned her attention back to the curly haired brunette in front of her.

“You haven’t heard a word of what I just said, have you?”  

“You were talking about Becky.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, five minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry Pheebs,” she apologized, her attention pulled one way but creeping back to a table on the other side of the terrace.

“I didn’t catch much sleep last night.”

Who was she kidding? She’d not been sleeping well for over a week now, wracking her brain at every turn, trying to figure out what it was that she should be doing, while maintaining a life that she knew next to nothing about, grappling with the details that no one but recollection could provide. A lot could and had happened in three years, and there was only so much knowledge she could gain from personal logs and status reports. In the end, she’d given up and called for Q, but he had not appeared. And now here she was, meeting with people she’d been dying to see but had been trying to avoid for the better part of a week. They’d first spoken over the comm five days ago, and that’s when her desire to really see Phoebe in person steadily started to outweigh the suffocating resolve of keeping her distance from all those she had missed for the better part of three years; she’d finally given into her heart’s plea and arranged to meet over lunch at a new little diner she’d discovered on the third day of her “stay”. She’d resolved that she would meet with her sister in five days if she still hadn’t solved Q’s riddle, giving herself a way out just in case. Turned out progress was a fickle friend, and she a poor comrade.  

When she’d spotted Phoebe walking off the transporter pad, she’d had to temper her reaction, hugged her the correct number of seconds to avoid suspicion and had hidden her tears under the guise of hay-fever (which she didn’t have, but hypothetically could have developed). They’d joked, walked arm in arm across the boulevard and ate their lunch beneath the lively glow of an early spring sun. Phoebe talked; Kathryn listened, and she was the happier for it. Apparently, Phoebe’d been dating a woman named Becky for the past year, a real catch that appeared to have truly captured her sister’s heart; she seemed more serious about this Becky than all of her previous admirers (and there had been many). Kathryn was genuinely pleased to hear it, and thought of imparting some profound sisterly wisdom, but stopped herself just in time, deciding it wiser to just listen instead. She’d played the attentive sister part well, until he stepped into her periphery.    

“No,” Phoebe said. “That’s not it.”

She followed Kathryn’s line of vision, now also observing Chakotay, whom had arrived with a group of men, presumably colleagues, sitting down at a table on the other end of the terrace. What were the odds?

“What’s this about?” Phoebe narrowed her eyes. “Do you know that man?”

She shook her head.

“Bullshit,” Phoebe challenged.

“I only know he works at the academy,” she admitted. “He teaches a first-year course.”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

“What?! No! Of course not. Why would you even say that?”

The question threw her. Phoebe had always been rather direct, but considering her current marital status it didn’t seem like the most appropriate assumption, even if it was coming from her sister; the only person she knew who would ever be this blunt with her.  

Phoebe shrugged.

“He’s handsome, so not your type, and judging from the looks you’re sending his way he’d make a perfect candidate for a little affair.”

Kathryn snorted.

“Have you no shame?”

Her sister held up her hands in defense.

“I don’t judge! Besides, I like Mark. He was a great tennis buddy back in the day, but you’ve said so yourself that you’ve been feeling rather lonely lately, and then there’s the absence of your wedding ring,” she nodded at Kathryn’s fingers. “Also, you’ve been uncharacteristically quiet today. You’ve hardly said a word, cried when we met, and you’ve been staring at me like a heartbroken puppy the entire time. I have no clue what’s going on with you, but I do know, that I don’t know this version of you,” she motioned her arms up and down. “Then this ruggedly handsome ‘academy’ man shows up, and well, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Also, and quite unfortunately, I’m a bit of an expert on the matter,” she paused and took a moment to consider her next words. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but if you’re going to go down this road, do come clean to Mark about it. The whole thing will become entirely too messy if you don’t.”

“When did I say that?”

“What?”

“That I’m lonely?”

Phoebe frowned.

“That’s your take away?” she laughed sarcastically. “Sweet sister mine, don’t you dare deflect me like I’m some rookie Ensign on your starship.”

Kathryn sighed and clenched her jaw.

“No, Phoebe. I’m not having an affair with the man across the terrace.”  

“But you’d like to.”

“No!”

“Hmm,” Phoebe raised her cup to her lips and took a sip, observing Kathryn over the rim while she tried to avoid glancing sideways. She’d forgotten how unnervingly perceptive her sister could be. Their familial bond only emphasizing hidden truths no other person would have the ability to uncover within her. One look and Phoebe didn’t have to guess, she could expertly pinpoint the conflict that ragged within Kathryn, whom in turn, much preferred to fling this particular struggle back into the abyss of denial.  

“I must say,” Phoebe said. “It would be most unlike you, but I’m certainly intrigued.”

“Just let it go, Pheebs.”

“I will,” she nodded seriously. “But it seems your ‘suitor’ has other plans.”

This time she did glance in his direction.

He was unabashedly staring at them.

Staring at her.  

Well, shit.

The gleam of recognition that sparked in his eyes combined with the less than stellar turn this conversation had taken, made her childishly want to hide behind the tree they were sitting next to, and a loud groan escaped her lips as she watched Chakotay excuse himself from the men he was with and approach their table.

“Captain,” he addressed her formally.

“Commander,” she answered in kind.  

Her sister snorted into her cup.  

“Seems like we keep bumping into each other.”

Phoebe audibly choked on her tea now, and Kathryn had to suppress the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose at the man’s choice of words. This was not how she imagined her day would be going, but then again, she’d never imagined any of this would ever happen. Chakotay noticed, of course he did, and it wasn’t such a strange leap to assume that he’d been their main topic of conversation before approaching their table. In fact, from this angle it was becoming quite apparent.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he turned to Phoebe.

“Phoebe,” she stuck out her hand, and he shook it. “Phoebe Janeway. The Captain’s sister,” she grinned.  

“Chakotay,” he said.

She inclined her head and studied his face intently.

“You seem like you’ve got roots here.”

“Phoebe,” Kathryn berated, knowing exactly what her sister was doing.

Chakotay did not.

“My ancestors were native to America, with ties to New Zealand, yes. But I grew up on Trebus.”  

Phoebe nodded interestedly, and was about to resume her line of questioning when Kathryn cut in.

“What can I do for you, Commander?”

He shifted uncomfortably, as though the choice to approach her had come on an impulse, and now that he stood before her, he seemed rather unsure of his motives.

“I was wondering if we could speak,” he said. “After our last conversation you left me with some questions. I didn’t think I would run into you again and I know we don’t really know each other, but if you don’t mind–”

“No, I don’t,” she said, a strange knot forming in her stomach. Was there more to him than she’d assumed, after all? She was desperate for a lead. Maybe, Q had hidden something within this Chakotay’s memories that could lead her to the thing she apparently ‘desired’ most. Maybe, that’s why he was here and not on Voyager. How did she not realize this before? Why had she been so dismissive of him the last time? He was the only other factor that didn’t make sense, and she had just let him go.

“Do you have a PADD on you?”

He nodded, rummaged through his bag and then handed it to her.

“These are my comm details,” she quickly typed in a string of letters and numbers. “Send me a message and we’ll set something up.”

He nodded.

“Thank you, I will,” and as he put the PADD back in his bag he turned to Phoebe and said; “It was nice to meet you.”

“Oh,” Phoebe smiled alluringly. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

=/\= =\/=

Sunbeams peeked low over the horizon, and crept languidly up the windowsill where at some point they intruded upon the kitchen window to flicker across Chakotay’s periphery. He looked up surprised and checked the time; 0606. Well then, he hadn’t pulled an all-nighter since college; this whole endeavor was definitely starting to border on insanity.  

He rubbed a hand over his face, and then nearly jumped out of his skin when Khalida’s soft voice broke into his reproachful musings.

“Who’s Captain Kathryn Janeway?”

She peered over his shoulder at the screen, and placed a kiss on his cheek before moving to the kitchen.  

“Good morning,” he smiled, and closed the computer screen. “You’re up early.”

“Uhm,” she said. “I’ve got some errands to run before school starts. You know how those kids get when there are no ‘functioning’ crayons to color with.”  

She ordered a coffee from the replicator, then turned back to him.

“What’s your excuse? I don’t remember hearing you coming to bed,” she wagged her eyebrows at him. “You up all night thinking about returning to the stars?”

“Not in a million years,” he assured. “I’ve got all that means anything, right here.”

“Good,” she took a sip, hiding the smirk he knew was there. “Then what’s going on?”  

“I’m sure it’s nothing, I’ve just been having headaches and strange dreams.”

“About this woman?” she laughed. “Should I be jealous?”

“Absolutely not.”  

He walked around the kitchen counter, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. His lips lingered near her hairline as he considered how he could possibly begin to explain all of this to her without sounding like a complete lunatic. But there was no way he could or should continue to hide this from Khalida, it was becoming too big, too intrusive, and as his wife she had a right to know. Ever since he’d met this Captain Kathryn Janeway on that terrace a little over a week ago, it was as though a trap door inside his mind had been flung open wide, revealing names, places, people and images that crept into his brain, but couldn’t be his. It was like waking up from a five-year coma with amnesia, only to have those details trickle back into his consciousness bit by bit all out of order and without sense. But it couldn’t be, he hadn’t been in a coma and he certainly hadn’t lost the last five years of his life to amnesia. It was all right here, in his arms and down the hall. But then suddenly there now was more, another life. Another him. A Chakotay trying to burst out of that small trap door that he was desperately trying to keep closed.

He'd been doing quite well at that; he’d nearly subdued the voice that demanded to be heard. Until the other day, when he saw her again on another terrace, and at the mere sight of her images instantly started to flood his mind. Of him and her on a ship called Voyager. Of him and her on a planet called New Earth. Of him and her on unfamiliar worlds with species he didn’t recognize among stars that weren’t theirs, and it was always her right beside him. Her bright blue eyes penetrating his, and then he felt it, knew that feeling well. But it had never been that intense before, nor that desperate; it sucked the air from his lungs and caught him entirely off-guard.    

“These dreams have been quite intrusive,” he began, shaking the thought and emotions from his mind. “Dr. Pulaski at Starfleet Medical examined me last week. She’s going to contact me the moment my neural scans might point to anything conclusive.

Khalida turned around in his embrace, hurt clearly visible in her posture.  

“You’ve had a neural scan done and you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to alarm you.”

“Chakotay, this isn’t like you. What’s going on?”

He hesitated and his arms dropped to his side. He needed to tell her what he’d found out.

“I’ve never met them, never heard of them, but the people in my dreams are real. I looked up a couple of names in the Starfleet database last night. It’s not just the Captain. It’s every single person I see in my mind. They are there, and what’s more, they’re on a starship that disappeared three years ago. I’ve never been on that ship in my life, I’ve never even seen the interior, but when I pulled up the blueprints it looked exactly like it appeared in my dreams. Only certain adjustments had been made to particular areas, but otherwise it was the same.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Pulaski suggested I might be experiencing some neutral interference which is triggering hallucinogenic dreams.”

“Neutral interference caused by what?”  

He shook his head.

“Your guess is as good as mine and I’m not quite convinced that that’s really the case. Lately, I’ve been experiencing these dreams when I’m awake as well, like memories I’ve forgotten. Which wouldn’t fit with Pulaski’s diagnosis. She seemed adamant that hallucinogenic neural interference of this kind can only occur in a state of unconsciousness.”

Khalida let out a long breath.

“I don’t know what to say,” she finally said. “You have memories of what? Another life? What does that even mean? Do you think it’s some type of experiment? Someone tampered with your brain when you were still serving aboard the Gettysburg?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t quite understand it myself, yet. I’ve only be able to put together bits and pieces of the “memories” that have revealed themselves to me so far, but to be honest,” he sighed heavily. “It’s as you say. It’s like I’ve been living parallel lives for I don’t even know how many years. I served aboard the Gettysburg, taught Advanced Tactical Training at the academy and then somewhere, somehow, something happened, and I made different choices that led to this,” he walked around the kitchen counter to retrieve the laptop and flipped it open. A series of Starfleet records sprung into view as he turned the screen toward Khalida.

“Most of it adds up. The people, the ship, the events, except…”

“Captain Janeway,” Khalida finished for him. “My God, Chakotay this sounds...”

“Insane, I know.”

“Are you saying that in this other life you were there? With these people on a lost ship?”

“I don’t know,” a knot formed in his stomach. When she put it like that it really did sound as though he’d completely lost his mind. The worried look on her face not quite easing his own concerns either.

“But you’re here,” she said. “With me and Deja. You’re not on Voyager. You don’t actually think you are, do you?”

He laughed at that.

“No, Kha. I might be losing my mind,” he kissed her forehead and pulled her to his side again. “But I’m quite sure my grip on reality hasn’t changed.”

He demonstratively pinched his arm.

“See? Still here.”  

She playfully tried to slap him, but he caught her fingers and twined them through his.

“I’m going to figure this out,” he promised. “Don’t worry.”

“Too late,” she said, burrowing deeper into his embrace. “What’s your plan?”

He’d sent Captain Janeway a message after the shock of his discovery had worn off a bit. She hadn’t responded, yet. Which, considering the late hour hadn’t been a surprise, and he didn’t think she would contact him until later today, but he had a growing suspicion that she might be behind some of this, or at the very least knew more than she’d initially led on. After all, she had been following him that day, and he was pretty sure now that that hadn’t been a mistake.

“I need to talk to Captain Janeway,” he said.  

“You think she did this to you?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but I’m sure she knows more.”

Khalida nodded, satisfied for now.

“Tell me how it went,” she extracted herself from his arms, and quickly downed the last of her coffee before hurriedly stuffing two PADDs in her bag.

“I love you,” she said and gave him a quick peck on the lips, her eyes filled with poorly concealed worry.

“I love you too,” he echoed. “I promise, it will all be OK.”

She bit her lip, but didn’t reply. She merely placed a hand on his cheek, gave him one last lingering look and then left. He heard the doors swish closed moments later.  

Why he didn’t come clean about that first meeting between him and the Captain, he didn’t know. There was something about her that made him uncomfortable. Intense feelings and memories left unexplored, which he didn’t want to access ever again. It wasn’t real. He didn’t know that woman. Didn’t feel the slightest inclination to get to know her either. He just needed her to fix this insanity.

[st0ri3sw3t3ll]

Tomorrow’s Yesterday - Chapter 3

Starfleet Academy and Starfleet Headquarters shared grounds, encompassing territory adjacent to the city of San Francisco. It was about an hour’s walk from her apartment, but in reality, at the pace she’d been going, it had taken her a little over an hour and a half to get there. At the apartment, she’d gone back and forth, only to finally opt out of dressing in uniform, and to wear her hair down instead of up. For some reason, she couldn’t bear being recognized. Not here and not now, when the sight of her being on Starfleet grounds could attract the eyes of strangers this reality’s Kathryn might know, but not she. Or worse, she might get tangled up in conversations with people she did know, who’d spent the past three years alongside her with more knowledge of this present than she did. There would be no way to justify her cluelessness, save for claiming amnesia.

Due to her dawdling, she arrived late. The only “student” to interrupt the lecturer in the middle of his case description. She scrambled to find a place between the cadets in the back, who threw her annoyed glances as they pressed their legs together to give her room to pass.

“–the rebels assumed they’d tricked the Enterprise. While in fact, the ship had been alerted to their presence, and Captain Picard ordered Data to allow them access through the aft shields. The medical supplies were beamed aboard the Maquis ship, but….” he paused, undoubtedly for dramatic effect. “Unbeknownst to the Maquis, their tactics had failed. They’d obviously been detected.”

Someone raised their hand, an unusual occurrence during a lecture, but he seemed to welcome the interruption.  

“Yes?”

“I’ve heard of this case, and if I remember correctly, this was all a set-up by the Enterprise and the Lieutenant who had infiltrated the Maquis. The whole thing was supposed to play out this way.”

“Yes, and no,” a smirk. “Yes, it was a set-up, but that doesn’t mean the tactics used were infallible. Make a note,” he turned his attention back to the group as a whole. “During our next seminar session, I will ask you to study this case in depth. Pretend the set-up does not exist, and find the flaws in the Lieutenant’s tactics. Improve upon them.”

Another hand shot up.

“Wasn’t she one of your students? Before she defected to the Maquis?”

A restless silence fell across the hall. The cadets turned their attention to the one who had spoken. Their confusion palpable as the request to elaborate beat in the air around them.

“I never said she was a woman,” he retorted.

It occurred to Kathryn, that she might well be one of the few who actually knew what this was about, had studied the case herself right before Voyager pursued the Val Jean into the Badlands. Lieutenant Ro Laren, a Starfleet officer, newly promoted and assigned to the Enterprise-D, had defected to the Maquis in 2370. It had come as a shock to Captain Picard, and lingered in his mind long after Commander Riker had related Ro’s reasons for doing so. Back when Kathryn had read the report, and shifted through Picard’s log data on the matter, she had found it hard to relate to Ro. Now, she understood, probably better than most.

“But yes, I did know the Lieutenant in question,” he said, then paused. He looked around the hall, and for a moment caught her eye; her heart skipped as his eyes lingered a second longer than strictly necessary, before moving onto the next face. Had he recognized her?

“Sometimes,” he resumed, and tugged on his ear. “A Starfleet Officer will deviate from the path of righteousness. For some reason or another - at times deeply personal ones - they will feel the need to move away from the principles we lay out for them. I regret the bright young Lieutenant who appears in this case is one such unfortunate soul who defected. But don’t let that fact deter you from approaching this task with an open mind and the wit it requires. These tactics bleed deception, but they can still be improved upon. It’s your job to do so,” he clasped his hands behind his back, his expression brightening as the end of the lecture neared. “I expect nothing but the best laid out flaws and solutions in your upcoming classes,” he gave a curt nod. “Dismissed.”  

Applause rang through the hall, and cadets all around her rose. She echoed their clapping, but didn’t get up, unsure if this would be the best place to approach him or to maybe find a more appropriate setting.

In truth, she felt apprehension gnaw at the back of her mind. She’d only been present for part of the lecture, but could tell that this wasn’t her Chakotay. His expression shined unbothered, his stance proud and deliberate. No tattoo graced the side of his face, and his beliefs stood in stark contrast to those of the man she’d come to know, to what he held dear. Never had her First Officer referred to the Maquis as leading others off the path of righteousness. This man’s words had made her uncomfortable, as though she was looking at a stranger who wore the face of a dear friend. What good would it do to bother a man whom so obviously lived a life that fit perfectly within the framework of this reality in every single way that mattered?    

What ultimately compelled her to not change her mind was the simple fact that he was her only lead. There was no other living being from Voyager, aside from herself, currently residing in the Alpha Quadrant. The fact that Q had not left her First Officer where he belonged, while all of the rest of history had played out exactly the same as it had in her reality, had to mean something.

But, she bargained with herself, she wouldn’t talk to him now. She first needed to know who this man was, what exactly she was dealing with, and why his situation was so different from hers. Or maybe, it wasn’t, and he was just playing his part very convincingly.

She filtered out of the lecture hall with the other cadets. Pretended to study her PADD in the corridor as he passed, a heavy bag slung across his shoulder. He didn’t seem to notice her, his expression fixed ahead, clearly in deep thought, and she decided to tail him at a distance, making sure there were enough people between them as she kept her eyes trained on his form that moved in and out of her vision between the masses. He swiftly crossed the college grounds to a busy street, and she feared she was about to lose him to a transporter pad when he made a sharp left and headed toward the crowded boulevard instead. It was lunchtime, and many people were moving along quite leisurely, basking in the afternoon sun, others in the midst of eating their sandwiches and drinking coffee on the terraces in the shade of large gold and red colored parasols.  

He stopped in front of a terrace table at one of the restaurants, and the scene that played out in front of her set her teeth on edge. Before he sat down, he happily greeted a beautiful dark-skinned woman, kissed her on the lips and then sat across from her. It was then, as he moved his chair closer to the table, that the sun bounced off of the gold band around his finger. A familiar ache shot through her, laced with a little something she didn’t quite recognize, but would have identified if she’d allowed herself to linger on the feeling a second longer. She didn’t. She pushed the ache from her mind, and reset her focus instead. She’d known. Had read about it in his file, which had related the bare facts of his life on Earth and before. Much like her Chakotay, this one had taught Advanced Tactical Training at the Academy until about 2370, but unlike her First Officer, he hadn’t quit Starfleet in favor of joining the Maquis. He’d simply moved from Advanced Tactical Training to a first-year cadet course in Tactical Training; the course she’d just crashed. He was still a Lieutenant-Commander, with little ambition of going back into space, while the Dominion War ragged above their heads at this very moment. She’d questioned this deviation of such a pivotal life choice, but a little digging revealed that the Cardassians, for some reason or another, had never threatened the colony he was originally from in this reality. His father hadn’t died, and he still lived on Trebus with Chakotay’s sister and mother. About a year after the invasion was supposed to have happened, he’d married a woman by the name of Khalida Jones, native to Earth. They settled just outside San Francisco, where she taught primary school, while he went to work at the Academy every day. He seemed content, had been married for about four years now, and had apparently also adopted Khalida’s daughter from another marriage. They were a family, and he was happily living the domestic life he had always secretly dreamed of having.

She sank down in a chair just out of sight, but positioned herself at such an angle she could keep her eye on them while they ate. A waiter came to take her order, and moments later she found herself swallowing down small sips of a steaming hot cup of coffee, while pondering the wisdom of her own life choices. What was she doing? This was starting to look more and more like a dead end. This Chakotay wasn’t the man she knew, he had proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt during his lecture, and now again as he sat across his wife making small talk over lunch.

Nonetheless, she grudgingly observed them for the next hour. Watched the side of his face for clues, a glance in her direction, but none came. Another twenty minutes passed, and then his wife got up, the first to leave. She gave him a loving smile along with a quick peck on the lips, and then disappeared among a crowd of passing Andorians.

She looked down at her empty cup, her stomach angrily rumbling for a lunch not ordered, and sighed. Where to go from here? She would not call upon Q again, not until she had something a little more solid to go off of, an actual lead to follow, but for the first time in her life she seemed to be really grasping at straws.    

A sudden shadow fell across her table, and when she looked up, she had the good sense not to laugh out loud.

“Why are you following me?”

His voice firm, yet demanding at the same time. She should have known that a man who’d been teaching courses in Advanced Tactical and Tactical Training would instantly recognize a poor tail trailing him downtown. And honestly, she’d done very little to even hide herself from him.

Kathryn motioned for him to sit down.

He lowered himself into the chair across from her, and for a moment, as their eyes locked, he seemed so much like Chakotay. And she was so glad to see him this close, to have a chance to speak to this version of him, even if he really wasn’t hers.

“I mistook you for someone,” she began. “But I see now that you’re not him.”

His brows knitted together, confused.

“Is that a habit of yours?” he spoke, distrust laced with suspicion; she knew the tone well. “Trailing people across town you might know? You could have just asked. Might have spared you a wasted afternoon.”

She smiled, and carefully studied his face for a moment. The absence of his tattoo and all it represented truly made a difference.

“Oh, it wasn’t wasted,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Who are you?”

“Captain Kathryn Janeway,” she reached out her hand; he didn’t take it. Instead, he seemed stunned, which led her to believe that at least he’d heard of her.

“Captain of the Solace?” he sounded skeptical.

“So they say,” she rolled her eyes, and then ducked her head to hide her reaction.

She really should start playing the part, even if she felt like a Captain without a ship. Apparently, she did have one, and she’d be on it if it weren’t for the fact that it was undergoing heavy repairs and maintenance checks due to its last encounter with the Cardassians. That was one perk of being back in Federation space. If part of your ship had been blown to smithereens and you’d lost people, at least there was the option of docking at the nearest space station, while what remained of your crew underwent psyc evaluations before being thrust back into a space war along with you. She’d found all of this out, and some other facts she hadn’t bothered to mentally unpack, while looking for clues that could help her get back to Voyager, to her actual ship.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the front lines fighting the Cardassians?”

“That’s classified,” she began. “But sufficed it to say, for the moment, I’m apparently exactly where I need to be,” which didn’t even cover half the lie she was attempting to convince herself of, but it would have to do.

Chakotay wasn’t fooled either.  

“Have we met before? You seem oddly familiar.”  

That was a loaded question, one she didn’t expect. Had they met in this reality?

“I’m sure I’d remember meeting you,” she retorted, opting for vagueness, as she gave him a small smirk. She had no clue, and this was exactly the reason why she preferred to stay the hell away from everyone in this place.  

“I should go,” she rose, but he stopped her, covered her hand with his.

“I know you,” his eyes flashed with something. “I know, I know you.”

She held his eyes, a hope igniting inside of her as it was his turn to study her face.

The light of recognition flickered, then faltered and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, that was rude,” he withdrew his hand from hers, and a pang of sadness spread through her.

Maybe it was something, or maybe it was nothing. She didn’t know how multiverses, parallel universes and the likes worked. He might just have experienced a type of déjà vu, a familiar sense of being. Something she’d felt a hundred times in her lifetime as well, for it to then mean absolutely nothing.  

“You just remind me of someone,” he finally explained.  

She nodded.

“I’m sorry to have wasted your time,” she said. “You won’t see me again.”

He rose in kind and stuck out his hand.

She took it.

And as they shook, his hand held hers longer than it ought to.  

“Are you sure we haven’t met before?”

She squashed the flicker of hope that welled up again. This was not her Chakotay. This was someone walking over his grave, a parallel version of him recognizing the crack in reality that represented her, nothing more.

“Maybe,” she smiled and let go. “in another life.”

[st0ri3sw3t3ll]

Tomorrow Yesterday - Chapter 2

She gathered a stack of PADDs and prepared to lock herself in the tiny study with a steaming pot of coffee for the rest of the afternoon. Mark seemed to take her questionable behavior in stride, not quite commenting on her lingering indecisiveness as she scurried across their living area in search of familiar items, she should know the proper locations of.

“Would you like to go out tonight?” he asked instead.

“Out?” she replied, slightly bewildered.

“It’s Friday, we usually dine in, but maybe we could do something else for a change?”

She nodded.

“Yeah, sure. You pick the place, we’ll go.”

He gave her a crooked smile, not quite convinced.

“Kath,” he took half a step closer; she took one backward. “I know I shouldn’t be asking this, since half of what you do up there on your ship is classified, but as your husband I just need to know if you’re really alright. Please, tell me if there’s anything I should know.”

She stopped and finally lifted her eyes to look at him fully, completely, for the first time in twelve hours. It had been a feat to allow herself to remain in the same room with him for longer than two seconds, let alone answer any uncomfortable questions she couldn’t possibly give him a satisfactory answer to. And then there was the sheer fact that it was also just him, she couldn’t deny that when in his presence there emerged a myriad of emotions she was unwilling to explore, could not explore. Yet, the temptation to fall into his arms, to tell him everything, to spill her secrets was so overwhelming she’d had to take a step back every time she sensed him nearby.

He watched her shift her balance to her other foot, the stack of PADDs nearly spilling from her arms as she determinedly held onto the pot of coffee as well.

“There are some things I can’t quite explain to you, right now,” she offered. It clarified nothing, barely set his mind at ease, but if this was really her Mark, he’d understand. The Federation got mixed up in odd situations and classified circumstances on a regular basis. She must have taken her sealed lips home with her more than once over the past three years. This situation shouldn’t be foreign to him.

He scratched his head.

“I can help you with that,” he motioned to her arms, accepting her explanation without retort, allowing her to resume her awkward behavior without further questions. It might imprint more doubt onto him, more than was strictly necessary at this point, but what else could she have said?

She handed over the coffee pot.

“There’s one thing I’ve been meaning to ask you, though,” she said, hoping that the change of topic might ease his worries a bit.

“Yes?”

“Do you remember a starship that newly launched about three years ago?” she looked up at him hopefully. “Called the USS Voyager?”

“You mean that ship that got lost in the Badlands?”

She practically jumped at his words.

“Yes!”

“Of course, I do,” he frowned. “It was all we talked about for months after it had happened. You’d been asked to Captain that ship but were reassigned to the Solace right before Voyager docked at DS9.”

Stunned one of the PADDs dropped from her grip, landed with a thump on the floor.

“Is that what this is about? Have they finally found the ship?”

She scrapped her throat to hide the massive lump that had formed in it.

“No, no, I don’t believe they have.”

“Then why do you want to know if I remember? Of course, I would remember nearly losing you, Kath.”

She bent down to retrieve the PADD, her thoughts scattered as she tried to come up with a convincing enough lie that would not make him worry even more.

“They have reason to believe the ship and its crew might have survived,” she finally stated, knowing full well that this tiny piece of information would have been labeled classified. Mark did too.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I know I shouldn’t,” she began. “But it’s been on my mind, and I don’t know who else to talk to about it.”

He visibly relaxed, a sympathetic gleam in his eyes.

“You can talk to me about anything, you know that.” His voice went down, a statement rather than a rising inflection and she had to fight the urge to just drop the PADDs on the floor and embrace him, never to let go. This was going to be so much harder than she’d anticipated. Q was not going to make this easy for her. She guessed that was the whole point, though.

“You are a good man, Mark,” she smiled, tangibly moved. “I really don’t deserve you.”

He laughed out loud.

“Nonsense, you deserve nothing short of the best, and I am precisely the best you need. If I may say so myself.”

Now it was her turn to laugh, and she did so uninhibitedly, unfamiliar giggles bubbling up to the surface.

“Cocky,” she shot back.

“Hardly, merely confident,” he retorted. “Don’t tell me you don’t admire self-assuredness in a man.”

She shook her head, amused.

“You know I do.”

He crossed the remaining space between them then, and framed her face with his palms. The unexpected show of affection threw her and she dropped another couple of PADDs on the floor, unprepared for the warm thrill that shot through her when he gently kissed her. She pressed herself closer to him, letting go of the remaining PADDs as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her willpower lost to reason.

She could pretend, couldn’t she? For just a flicker of a second, that this life was truly hers, that Voyager had gotten lost with another Captain, and that it no longer mattered if she got them home, because it was no longer her responsibility, no longer her duty.

Her second passed, and when he pulled back, so did she. A lone tear escaped her eye unnoticed, and she quickly bend down to retrieve the PADDs once more. He helped her, quietly stacked them on top of each other in her arms and followed her into her study where he set the coffee pot on the desk by the window.

“I’m going to take Molly out for a walk,” he said, and squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t forget to eat.”  

=/\= =\/=

“Not so sure anymore, are you?”

Q flashed into existence without warning, causing her to jump and spill a good bit of the coffee she’d been about to put to her lips.

“Damnit,” she cursed. “Q, go away!”

“Now, come, come no need to be crabby,” he snapped his fingers and the stains on the carpet disappeared. “We both knew I was right.”

She pressed her fingers to her shoulder, massaging the knots that had formed there over the course of the passed 24 hours.

“You’re not.”

“You’re still going to deny it?!” he cried out, skeptically. “After what just happened?”

She whirled on him.

“You had no right!” she all but shouted. “It’s bad enough that you wrenched me from my ship and put me into this farce of a reality, but to involve Mark, to play with his life like it’s yours to puppeteer! It’s despicable!”

Momentarily stumped Q only stared at her. The corners of his mouth drooping with confused bewilderment, and she really had to suppress the urge to smack the baffled look off his face.

“I did nothing of the sort!” he finally cried out. “I’m afraid you don’t quite understand the rules of this universe, dearest.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I do and don’t understand! My life is not a game, even if it seems so to you,” she lowered her face into her hands, nearer to breaking than ever before.

“I’m not sure I like this side of you, Kathy,” Q muttered, disgruntled. “Maybe you should have another cup,” he snapped his fingers and the mug on her desk miraculously refilled itself with the dark liquid she’d become slave to.

When she looked up, he’d disappeared.

She let out a long sigh and without touching the mug she set to work.

It didn’t take her long to find out what had happened to the Voyager in this reality. As Mark had said, they had disappeared into the Badlands in pursuit of the Maquis three years ago, much in the same way her Voyager had gotten lost. Though, the different articles she’d consulted didn’t specifically mention that their mission had been to capture the Maquis, but she could read between the lines. The official press release hinted at a group of Starfleet defectors gone rogue, the rest she could fill in for herself. The only difference here was that this Voyager had been under the command of Captain Jacob Johnson, a fine officer in his early 40s. At the time of his disappearance, he’d left behind a wife called Eleanor, and two teenaged daughters, Lisa and Ronda. She felt a pang of guilt for them, a deep sorrow, as she realized that it was her fault that these poor people had had to live without their husband and father for the past three years. No matter how Q tried to twist this, her happiness wasn’t more important than those who now had to suffer the consequences of a choice made by an arrogant omnipotent being.

Try as she might she couldn’t get a hold of the Maquis crew manifest. She’d punched in all her codes repeatedly, but none of them would grand her access to Voyager’s mission details, aside from one formal footnote that stated Starfleet had officially declared them all lost in action in the summer of 2373, exactly one year ago. Her breath caught in her throat. They were no longer looking for them, they were completely and utterly alone in the universe. In her hearts of heart, she’d known this to be the case, was even surprised the Federation had searched for them for so long, but it was a still a shock to have her suspicions corroborated so officially. To read the letters on a screen that definitively weaved together words of confirmation; ‘declared lost and dead at war’.

She swiped the announcement away.

She refused to linger on what she already knew to be true.

Instead, her brain changed tactics. She really did not need to find the crew manifest of the Val Jean, she knew its crew. She could search for its people instead; the defectors that had once served Starfleet. They would pop up in the federation database regardless of whether or not they disappeared alongside Voyager.

B’Elanna appeared in her first search. The Chief-Engineer’s file much the same as the one in her universe. This B’Elanna, too, seemed to have fallen victim to her own Klingon temper; she’d dropped out of Starfleet Academy, after a suspension and four pending disciplinary hearings, and attached to the enrollment withdrawal, Kathryn also discovered Professor Chapman’s note of support and admiration, in case B’Elanna ever decided to reapply to the academy. She remembered the look on the younger woman’s face when she’d shared that tit bit all those years ago; it had been one of pure and utter confusion. B’Elanna had not given her own brilliance enough credit, couldn’t see or acknowledge the remarkable potential certain observant teachers had perceived in her. Luckily, she’d come a long way since.

Aside from the note, there was a whole lot of nothing for a while, and then on Stardate 49337.4, an update so crass it made her blood boil at the injustice of it all: ‘former enemy of the federation, deceased.’ She couldn’t help but wonder if this was how the Maquis had been classified in her universe, too. Enemies of the Federation, deceased, all of them. Oh, but they were so much more than that, meant a great deal more than such a lousy annotation in a file that lacked all of the proper details. They were, in fact, remarkable, and she would see to it that they would not go down in history like this. She would get back; she would get them home.  

She shifted through a couple more files, all of them her crew, and found record after record that had attached to it the same annotation, written on the same Stardate. Unsurprisingly, this appeared to be the exact Stardate on which Voyager had been officially declared lost as well. It matched up; it was too much of a coincidence not to, and she briefly marveled at the similarities. So much in this universe had played out the same way. So far, she seemed to be the only anomaly, the only piece that didn’t quite fit. Or so she thought, that was until she opened Chakotay’s file.

Her eyes widened.  

[st0ri3sw3t3ll]

Tomorrow’s Yesterday - Chapter 1

 “My dear Kathy, I just want to return the favor.”

Q’s words echoed in her mind, his face a stretched out image on a tight rope woven from threads of dreams and reality. She was hovering somewhere in between. Fighting to place herself in the here and now, but the pull was too strong and she kept flailing about in the abyss of her subconscious, drowning. The images faded, then returned.

 “I know I don’t have any right to feel this way, but this bothers the hell out of me.”  

 “I do believe you’re jealous. Why didn’t you tell me there was another man?”  

 “Is it the tattoo? Because mine’s bigger.”  

 “Is that really… an ancient legend?”  

 “No, but that made it easier to say.”  

 “I think, eventually, people will begin to pair off.”  

 “Including you?”  

 “As a Captain that’s a luxury I don’t have. Besides, I intend for us to be home before Mark gives me up for dead,  

 –Mark gives me up for dead  

 –Mark  

 -Mark  

 -Mark.”  

She bolted upright, heaving for air. Her heart racing, galloping in her chest as though it was determined to finally beat out of her once and for all. Her fingers curled around the sheets. Easy. She forced her mind to focus, years of training zeroing in on her breathing. Rein it back in, Kathryn. Get a grip. Two seconds in, four seconds out. It was just a dream. A really bad one, but just a dream, nonetheless. The thumping in her chest slowed, returned to a regular rhythm and she relaxed her shoulders as the final count of four dropped from her thoughts. Q had really done a number on her this time. Pushed her into mental corners she hadn’t allowed her mind to linger on for months. She’d locked him away so fiercely; she wasn’t even sure who she was protecting her heart from anymore.

“Kath,” a drowsy grunt next to her. “Are you alright?”

She let out an involuntary scream and leapt from the bed.

 That voice.

“Computer, lights,” she demanded.

“Mark?!”

Mark?

Her Mark?

Dazed, he propped himself up on his elbows, blinking rapidly against the sudden intrusiveness of the light that had now completely broken into his peaceful slumber.

“Kathryn, what the hell are you doing? Come back to bed.”

She couldn’t help herself; she just stared, frozen in place as the face that she’d tried to obliterate from her waking thoughts for the past three years was looking up at her, slightly annoyed.

“What’s the matter with you?” he said, when she still didn’t respond. “You look like you’ve–” he shook his head. “Never mind. Come,” he patted the mattress, the bed oddly familiar.

It was then that it occurred to her that she was no longer on Voyager. The quiet hum of her starship replaced, and in its stead, there was the silent buzzing of their apartment in San Francisco, and then, a sudden sniveling wetness pushed against the palm of her hand. She looked down.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, and dropped to her knees. “Molly!”

She hugged her dog tightly, tears glazing her vision as Molly pawed her way onto her lap, licking her face and wagging her tail so ferociously, Kathryn knew that the dog did remember, understood that they hadn’t seen each other in years, even if time was an unfathomable concept for dogs. She knew, she felt it. In fact, this was the type of reaction she’d expected from Mark, but he just blinked and yawned, as though finding Kathryn in his bed after three years of sleeping alone was the most unremarkable thing that could have happened to him tonight.

“Well, that’s odd,” he scratched behind his ear. “She’s not been this happy to see you since you came back from your last mission three weeks ago.”

Three weeks ago?! What the hell was happening? How was she here? Where was Voyager? What had happened to her crew? The last thing she remembered was–

Her eyes widened.

“Q!” she said out loud.

“Huh?” Mark frowned. “Cue?”

Genuine concern appeared in his expression, and she knew she had to switch gears. Play along or tell the truth? Decide now. She didn’t understand this situation, couldn’t possibly comprehend completely what needed to be said or done in order for her to get back to Voyager. That only left her with one choice, to play along. It was the safest bet. Nothing else would make sense to anyone until she understood the situation herself. First order of business, find out when she was, what she was, and how she got here. The latter she could scratch off her list. Q had gotten her here for sure.

“Never mind,” she forced her face into a neutral expression, cracked a smile for good measure.

“Bad dream,” she said by way of explanation, and stepped back into bed.

He looked at her suspiciously, a frown stuck on his forehead.

“That last mission really got to you, didn’t it?” he put a hand on her shoulder, squeezed it and she nearly jumped out of bed again.

This was Mark.

This was her Mark

This was his touch.

She swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat. Three years, and here he was. Right beside her, just like that. She couldn’t help herself. She threw her arms around him, squeezed him to her, holding on as though she knew this could all disappear again with the sudden snap of omnipotent fingers. But this was really him, he was here and so was she and by God, she’d missed him so much. Luckily, he interpreted her intense reaction as an answer to his question, and he rubbed her back lovingly.  

“Maybe you should see a counselor. From what I hear Starfleet employs some good ones. I mean, I haven’t exactly gotten any experience with any of them, but if Starfleet employs them, they must be good.”

She felt him shrug good humoredly and she chuckled on a sob. This was so Mark. Full of well-meant advice in the face of cluelessness. She had loved this man so much. She turned her face, and kissed him. His taste familiar as his hand slipped to her cheek, so easy, and she wished this was really real, and not some fabricated reality that Q had forced her into. He pulled back, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

“You seem different,” he mushed.  

“I’m ok,” she assured.

“You sure?”

“It was just a dream.”

“Tell me.”

She shook her head.

“Tomorrow.”

He nodded, his eyes already drooping as he laid back down, and she noted that it really was the middle of the night; 0310. She lowered her head to her pillow and closed her eyes, forcing her mind into submission. Maybe if she slept and woke up in a couple of hours this would all have been a dream too.

=/\= =\/=

When she woke, she found herself alone in bed, but sadly nothing else had changed. She found herself still very much residing in the same predicament as the night before. Oh, Q when I get my hands on you. She took a moment to gather her wits and looked around their old apartment. It looked strikingly different from when she had last been here. Furniture she hadn’t owned before had replaced the familiar dressers and mirrors they’d acquired at various antique vaults after they’d just moved in. The walls once grey, now an off white, the one on her left graced with flower patterns that had Phoebe written all over it.

“Computer, what’s the Stardate?”

“Today’s Stardate is 50415.1.”

At least the dates still matched up, he hadn’t thrown her back in time.

She pushed back the sheets and made her way to the living room. Ordered coffee from the replicator and savored the taste before she dared take in the rest of her surroundings. She immediately noted the subtle differences here too. Holo-images she hadn’t been present for in frames she hadn’t obtained herself. Off white walls, the same as in their bedroom. A new couch, or maybe it was already old, she wasn’t even sure when they’d replaced the other one. She wrapped both her hands around the mug, with half an eye on the holo-images as she slowly started pacing the room.

One in particular caught her eye.

A wedding image.

They’d actually gotten married.

In the traditional sense of the word even.

She picked up the frame and studied it. She was pictured in a beautiful long white dress, her hair braided on one side, while the hair on her other side had been pinned down to her head with white butterfly clippings that arched all the way down to her ear. She’d looked stunning, and Mark positively dashing in a proper black suit, their faces close together, hers turned to the camera while he stared lovingly at the side of hers. It was too much; she spun away, downed the last of her coffee in one big gulp, and put the image back face down.  

This was the life she’d lost.

The life the Delta Quadrant had taken from her.

What kind of a sick joke was Q playing?

“Q! If you’re here; if you can hear me, you damn well show yourself!” she hollered. “Q!!”

“Alright, alright,” Q’s familiar taunt called from behind. “Calm down, Kathy, I heard you.”

She whirled around.

“You!” she thundered. “Take me back NOW!”

“Tu-tu-tu,” he pouted. “So ungrateful. I gave you everything you’ve ever dreamed of and this is the thank you I get?”

“These are not my dreams and it’s definitely not my reality, Q.”

“But oh Kathy, it could be,” he walked around her. “Just imagine, you and Mark living your happily ever after. Your dog – Molly, isn’t it? – reunited for whatever time that creature’s got left on this plain of existence. You might have noticed she’s from your actual reality. My gift to you.”

So that really was her Molly.

She shook her head.

“I don’t belong here.”

“Yes, yes, yes, you said that, but let’s just assume for a moment that you do, you could.”

“Take me back,” she repeated.

“You aren’t the least bit tempted?” he whispered close to her ear. “Not even a tiny bit?”

“No.”  

“Now, why would that be?”

He languidly dropped himself onto the couch and propped his legs up on the chaise.

“Might it be because you’ve set your sights elsewhere?” he suggestively wagged his brows.

“Yes, the Delta Quadrant,” she retorted, her hands firmly planted on her hips. “Now, I’ll tell you one last time; put me back where I belong!”

“Ugh,” Q snorted derisively, and waved his hand as he stood. “If you really want to get back to your dearest Voyager,” he mocked the name of her ship with a childish inflection. “Then there’s a way. I built a failsafe into this reality that will drop you back into the Delta Quadrant in the blink of an eye if you trigger it, but you’re going to have to find it yourself.”  

“Why?!” she demanded, incredulously. “Just snap those omnipotent little fingers of yours and get this over with.

Q chuckled.

“I sometimes forget how amusing your puny little brains can be. You humans know how to compensate your limited simplicity with big words and clever disguises quite well.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, you should,” Q nodded excitedly. “You and Jean-Luc are by far the more superior versions of your species, and I carry a special fondness for you especially, Kathy. But you still lack the basic intellect and simple comprehension to fully grasp the ways of the Continuum.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure.”

“I can’t just drop people in and out of different realities on a whim,” Q continued, as though she should have long since come to this conclusion herself, despite the fact he seemed to have done exactly that to her. “There are rules we must follow lest the entire universe should unravel and we’ll all end up in a gaping black hole of,” he paused. “Well, nothing and everything, really.”

A dramatic expression appeared on his face, and she wasn’t sure she could take this blatant show of arrogance for much longer.

“What are you getting at?”

“This has to play out the way it’s meant to play out.”

“You mean, how you mean for it to play out,” she corrected.

“No, no, no,” he waged a finger at her. “I can’t influence your choices, that’s all up to you. In the end you might choose to stay here, as I intended, but you may also leave, which would be most ungrateful, but still your choice.”

She let out a heavy sigh, and flopped down on the couch, the fight visibly draining out of her.

“Why have you done this, Q?”

“I thought you’d be pleased,” he looked genuinely confused, as though he really did think he’d done her a favor.

In a way, this was everything she’d longed for; the sole reason she got up every single day just so that at some point in the future she would find herself back here; a life in the Alpha Quadrant, her life with Mark, and Molly. If he’d still have her, if Molly still lived.

“I just wanted to return the favor.”

He sat down beside her, slouching, his demeanor shifting into what reminded her of a child sulking, one who inadvertedly had gotten it all wrong, again.

She nodded, and for once – despite his claims to the contrary – she truly did understand. In his own twisted way, he’d decided that what lay reflected in her dreams was what she truly desired and with no regard or thought to those lives that intricately lay entwined with hers, he’d ripped her from the place she ought to be and plunged her in the place he thought she wanted to be.  

She put a hand on his shoulder.

“Q, sometimes,” she bit her lip. “What humans fantasize about isn’t always what we truly want for ourselves.”

“That makes no sense.”

“No,” she smiled. “But that’s the beauty of humanity. We don’t make sense; we’re walking talking contradictions on a good day. We make choices that fly in the face of logic and we dream of realities that we would never want to experience, but do enjoy fantasizing about. That’s part of why we create, analyze and travel even.”

“No,” he shook his head determinedly. “Earth is all you creatures ever talk about on your beloved Voyager. The value you attach to that unremarkable hovering ball of dirt and liquid might go beyond me, though, I loathe to admit it; you do truly desire to get back there, to this,” he motioned around. “You can’t convince me otherwise.”  

She inclined her head, and bit her lip.

“You’re right,” painful regret in her voice. “I do truly long to get back here someday, I can’t deny that.”

“Ha!” Q pointed. “So, I am right!”

“But I’d like to do that on my own terms,” she continued, her words stern. “And this isn’t that.”

“Oh, Kathy,” he whined. “Why do you always have to take the moral high ground? Why can’t you just live a little, laugh a little, enjoy life and accept the favorable hand that God has dealt you.”

“You are no God, Q.”

“Oh, but I could be. I could be your God!”

She rose from the couch and crossed the room to the kitchen. She needed another coffee. This man, this being, this, whatever he was, was starting to wear her out and she hadn’t even had a proper breakfast, yet.

As she expected he followed her.

“What do I have to do to get back to Voyager,” she demanded as another coffee materialized inside the replicator. She took it, and with half a mind on ordering breakfast too, she closed her eyes and took an appreciative sip. At least that was the one thing that never changed in any reality or time, she could always count on coffee to taste and smell relatively the same.  

“There was one other thing,” Q started. “Speaking of the contradictory nature of humans. The one thing you desire above all else but deny you want.”

“Stop talking in riddles. I’m tired of your games,” she turned away from him and ordered breakfast, then. She needed something in her stomach to be able to continue this disorienting mind game Q insisted on playing with her.

“Na-ah,” his taunting tone returned. “Rules of the cosmos! I can’t just give the answers to you. But I gave you a hint, which is far more than most creatures in your place get.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. Why did he always insist on insulting her intellect at every turn of the conversation?

“You’ve damned more poor souls to this?” she bit out.

He ignored her.

“You know what you desire most, dear Kathy. Find it, really find it, and you will get your darling Voyager back.”

She turned to face him, to give him another piece of her mind, but he’d gone. A snap, and all that he’d left her with was a smoldering breakfast, an empty apartment and not an idea of where to even start.  

What the hell was she supposed to do with such a vague clue?

What she desired most lay about 67000 lightyears from her current position.

How was she supposed to find a ship that she was desperately trying to get back to?

“You know what you desire most; find it, really find it,” his words echoed in her mind.

Did she even really know what she desired most?