The ceiling was gray.
It was, perhaps, foolish to think that the color of the ceiling above his bed would magically change, but Chakotay did keep hoping.
The ceiling was gray.
And he was very tired of looking at it, minute after minute, hour after hour, night after night.
He was very tired, period.
But sleep would not come.
When he closed his eyes, all Chakotay could see was a Borg cube.
Phaser fire.
Explosions.
Kathryn's eyes.
God, Kathryn's eyes. Meeting his. Her hand warm in his, squeezing his fingers.
Her eyes.
He couldn't believe it. She'd sat there, about to go off on a suicide mission, and joked with him. It had been all he could do to respond, to keep his voice level. It had still broken, just a bit, at the end, but he doubted anyone had noticed.
Except Kathryn.
Her handclasp had been his undoing. He was grateful he hadn't needed to speak further. He knew the words would never have come out. But he'd taken her hand, squeezed her fingers in response. The gesture itself had taken him by surprise. She'd offered it so easily, so naturally, and he'd accepted it in kind.
Blue eyes.
Meeting his.
Until she released his hand and turned to go. His eyes had followed her, unwilling to turn away until the turbolift doors sealed with her behind them.
Blue eyes.
Kathryn's eyes.
Meeting his, once more, as she walked towards the lift.
Unwilling to turn away until the turbolift doors sealed before her, leaving Chakotay behind on the bridge.
Blue eyes.
Meeting brown.
Saying goodbye.
That's what she was doing. Saying goodbye. Saying more than goodbye. Saying what time, circumstance, protocol, and personal convictions forbade her to say.
They were all under no illusions about this mission. It had a good chance of success, but it was suicide for the three who had chosen to carry it out.
Kathryn's eyes.
Saying goodbye.
Saying more.
Chakotay's eyes.
Saying goodbye.
Saying more.
And then she was gone.
The Doctor's voice, calling out in the midst of a hellish chaos. Changing lifesigns. Voyager coming apart around them.
Changing lifesigns.
Mission accomplished.
They were Borg.
Kathryn's eyes.
Blue eyes.
No longer blue.
No longer Kathryn.
Chakotay's eyes.
Brown eyes.
Staring up at the ceiling, sleepless, once again.
When the Away Team was home, he could sleep.
When Kathryn was home, he could sleep.
Brown eyes.
Tired eyes.
Staring up at the ceiling, waiting for morning.
The ceiling was gray.