Title: Not the End
Author: SaRa
Rating: PG
Warning: Character death and Endgame spoilers.

Disclaimer: If Paramount jumped off a bridge, would I do the same? No! I'd take the opportunity and grab those lovable Voyager characters which they own.
Author's note: No, I'm not going to write a story about Chakotay or Janeway dying. No, never. Sure. That lasted all of three months. Is that some kind of record? This dying Chakotay story is set in Admiral Janeway's future, so maybe it doesn't really count...



A young doctor lead Admiral Kathryn Janeway down the halls of Starfleet Medical. The doctor stopped at room 417 and keyed open the door. He left once Janeway was inside.

Chakotay was lying on the biobed, his life slowly fading away.

Janeway walked over and perched on the bed, fondly ruffling Chakotay's graying hair.

He opened his eyes and blinked several times. "Hello, Kathryn," he managed.

His voice was so weak, Kathryn could barely hear him. Fighting the tears that threatened to spill over, she said, "Hey, Chakkabear."

Chakotay gave her a weak grin, showing off the dimples that still made Kathryn's knees turn to rubber. "I thought that by now you'd have a new teddy bear."

His comment sent Kathryn back fifteen years, to a day that hadn't been one of the best. Every little thing that could've gone wrong had, but nothing more major than the replicators going offline had happened. It had been more stressful than a Borg attack, in its own way.

That night, Chakotay had gone to see Kathryn, hoping to cheer her up.

"Kathryn," he'd offered, "if you need to scream at, hit, or hug something that isn't a pillow, I'm here."

Kathryn had been briefly tempted to punch Chakotay, but walked over and wrapped her arms around his middle. Resting her head on Chakotay's chest, Kathryn had said, "You're like a big teddy bear. No, wait. You're better. You're a...a Chakkabear."

Kathryn pulled herself back to the here and now and said, "You know I'll never get married Chakotay. I'm too old and too set in my ways." She forced a laugh and added, "And not exactly pretty, either."

Kathryn hated looking in the mirror every morning because of what she had become -- on both the inside and the outside.

Chakotay collected his strength and used it to reach up and touch Kathryn's face. "Don't believe that and don't ever let anyone tell you that. You're a beautiful person, Kathryn," he said, knowing exactly what Kathryn had meant.

Chakotay's hand fell back to the bed and he closed his eyes. Kathryn knew what was coming; knew they'd be saying good-bye soon.

"Please leave, Kathryn," Chakotay said, the life draining out of him.

Kathryn shook and head and tears began to stream down her cheeks. "No. No, I wanna stay," she said, her voice childlike and pleading. What her tone was saying was, No, Chakotay, please stay! Don't die...you can't leave me.

"Kiss me," he said, wanting Kathryn to be the last thing he saw, felt, smelled, heard, and tasted.

Kathryn leaned over and kissed him with thirty odd years of built up passion and desire. Their first kiss was their last kiss; their only kiss. Very poetic, and very depressing.

Kathryn didn't pull away until she knew he was gone. When she did pull back, his lifeless coffee-colored eyes were staring up at her.

Her head dropped to Chakotay's chest and Kathryn cried into the material of his blue flannel pajamas, wishing she could change the past.

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