Star Trek: Voyager: Crashing Shuttles (Part 1/3)
Hey there, Fang here. Another Voyager fanfic. J/C, as usual. Enjoy.
Title: Crashing Shuttles
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, really
Summary: Chakotay has had one-too-many shuttle accidents. Janeway might just finally blow up this time.
Captain Katheryn Janeway glared at the time on the biobed. 02:00 hours. She had been here for seven hours straight. She doubted she had moved from her chair in half that. The Doctor hadn't bothered to even suggest her moving to her quarters for rest, though that might have had something to do with the death glare she had shot him as he opened his mouth to ask her to leave his patient.
Katheryn kept his hand warm in hers, both lying atop his stomach. She had mapped out his limp hand mentally, every small scar, every wrinkle and line in the soft skin. When he woke up, she had so much to yell at him for after this idiotic escapade. He wasn't getting away scotfree this time.
She pressed her fingers against the inside of his wrist, feeling his pulse beat steadily underneath the skin. He was alive. Chakotay stayed alive and came back to her. For now, while he was still unconscious, that was enough.
"Chakotay..." she murmured, wishing that that would wake him, wishing he could hear the plea in his name. His peaceful face did not move, and she sighed, a smile playing on her lips anyway just from being next to him.
Kathryn moved her chair closer to his bio-bed, closer to Chakotay, and laid her head on his blanketed chest, right on top of his heart. The strong beat calmed her more than the softer throb of pulse in his wrist. She closed her eyes, her entire being focused upon that heart.
~.~
He awoke groggily from the deep unconsciousness that had put him under in the first place. A quiet beeping rang out in his returning hearing, a nice, constant object for him to concentrate on. He would worry about opening his eyes later.
Quiet footsteps walked past him and he caught a whispered question to his side. Feeling a bit like the Sherlock Holmes of literary fame, only not so qualified, he surmised that he was indeed not dead and now in sickbay. From the sound of the foosteps, so quick and sure of themselves with an air of extreme self-importance, he could only guess the Doctor was by him at the moment.
Oh. Yes. The accident.
He didn't even want to know how he had survived this one.
Chakotay cringed slightly as pain shot into his temple, and the rest of his senses came rushing back to life. He lay on a bio-bed, a soft pillow cradling his head and a standard issue blanket covering his form. Yes, certainly sickbay.
He cracked open his eyes to find himself staring up towards the ceiling, squinting at the bright light glinting back at him.
Chakotay tried to move his hand up to shield his sight, but nothing even remotely moved. Only then, once he had snapped out of his confusion, did he feel the weight lying almost directly on top of him. He glanced down to find a smooth hand caught tightly in his, the obvious reason for his lack of movement. He slowly tightened his grip upon that hand, feeling it respond in kind.
Chakotay's mouth upturned into a smile when he saw the person using him as a human pillow. He knew he was home.
Title: Crashing Shuttles
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, really
Summary: Chakotay has had one-too-many shuttle accidents. Janeway might just finally blow up this time.
Captain Katheryn Janeway glared at the time on the biobed. 02:00 hours. She had been here for seven hours straight. She doubted she had moved from her chair in half that. The Doctor hadn't bothered to even suggest her moving to her quarters for rest, though that might have had something to do with the death glare she had shot him as he opened his mouth to ask her to leave his patient.
Katheryn kept his hand warm in hers, both lying atop his stomach. She had mapped out his limp hand mentally, every small scar, every wrinkle and line in the soft skin. When he woke up, she had so much to yell at him for after this idiotic escapade. He wasn't getting away scotfree this time.
She pressed her fingers against the inside of his wrist, feeling his pulse beat steadily underneath the skin. He was alive. Chakotay stayed alive and came back to her. For now, while he was still unconscious, that was enough.
"Chakotay..." she murmured, wishing that that would wake him, wishing he could hear the plea in his name. His peaceful face did not move, and she sighed, a smile playing on her lips anyway just from being next to him.
Kathryn moved her chair closer to his bio-bed, closer to Chakotay, and laid her head on his blanketed chest, right on top of his heart. The strong beat calmed her more than the softer throb of pulse in his wrist. She closed her eyes, her entire being focused upon that heart.
~.~
He awoke groggily from the deep unconsciousness that had put him under in the first place. A quiet beeping rang out in his returning hearing, a nice, constant object for him to concentrate on. He would worry about opening his eyes later.
Quiet footsteps walked past him and he caught a whispered question to his side. Feeling a bit like the Sherlock Holmes of literary fame, only not so qualified, he surmised that he was indeed not dead and now in sickbay. From the sound of the foosteps, so quick and sure of themselves with an air of extreme self-importance, he could only guess the Doctor was by him at the moment.
Oh. Yes. The accident.
He didn't even want to know how he had survived this one.
Chakotay cringed slightly as pain shot into his temple, and the rest of his senses came rushing back to life. He lay on a bio-bed, a soft pillow cradling his head and a standard issue blanket covering his form. Yes, certainly sickbay.
He cracked open his eyes to find himself staring up towards the ceiling, squinting at the bright light glinting back at him.
Chakotay tried to move his hand up to shield his sight, but nothing even remotely moved. Only then, once he had snapped out of his confusion, did he feel the weight lying almost directly on top of him. He glanced down to find a smooth hand caught tightly in his, the obvious reason for his lack of movement. He slowly tightened his grip upon that hand, feeling it respond in kind.
Chakotay's mouth upturned into a smile when he saw the person using him as a human pillow. He knew he was home.