Title: obligations lost in reverie
Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager
Rating: PG(ish)
Length: 511 words
Content notes: Post-ep add on for Eye Of The Needle
Author notes: Also for the early prompt on my getyourwordsout build a bingo and the nightwear prompt on my genprompt_bingo round 30 table. Title is from Let It Go by Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile. Thanks to tamaraaeknight for doing beta for me.
Summary: “That obvious, huh.” Kathryn paused, “No, thank you, I’ve got my Vulcan spiced tea and its a little too late in the day for me to eat.”

The hum of Voyager’s engines travelling at warp one while most the crew got some much needed rest already felt comforting to B’Elanna who was in her pyjamas, on her nightly wander of the still new to her home. She used the time to explore every deck of the ship, mentally cataloguing the minor imperfections that made the ship perfect to her. It had helped her to unwind although she still wasn’t sure what her place was on the ship or within the merged crews.

Coming to a turbolift she felt her stomach rumbling. “Deck two,” a trip to the mess hall for a stack of banana pancakes and cup of raspberry tea would be the perfect snack before bed.

The lights in the mess hall were dimmed to ten percent illumination, B’Elanna could make out a figure in the farthest corner from the doorway. “Can’t sleep?” she called out.

Kathryn moved rapidly approaching the source of the voice, mentally reprimanding herself for wearing pyjamas in a common crew area. “Oh, no, I keep thinking about Telek R’mor and how he gave us all hope only for it to be cruelly snatched away from us in split second.”

“So you can’t sleep. I’m just getting a snack before heading to bed, do you want anything?”

“That obvious, huh.” Kathryn paused, “No, thank you, I’ve got my Vulcan spiced tea and its a little too late in the day for me to eat.”

B’Elanna placed her order at the replicator, taking a seat at table near the serving hatch Neelix uses during duty shifts. “When Tuvok told us he’d died four years ago, my hopes were dashed thinking that he had being successful in passing on our messages home. I wrote to my dad and even now I regret wasting my message because I know there’s nobody who’d be surprised I had an arrest warrant out on me and of course the prison sentence waiting for me. For all of the Maquis.”

Kathryn placed her hand on top of B’Elanna’s, grimacing at the near defeated way B’Elanna spoke of multiple unknown outcomes.

“Outside the transporter room I fought back tears. They still fell.”

“Who did you write to?” B’Elanna asked, trying to divert the topic away from difficult conversations neither were ready for.

“My mum and sister.”

“Not that man… Mark?”

“I erm,” Kathryn shook her head. “I actually had no idea what to say to him. I think that the grief of not knowing what his life is like now and wondering do I even want to be a part of that life, it hurt too much to bear thinking about. I went for the safest option.”

“It’s hard. For everyone.”

“Yes. Maybe we need to organise something to help with morale.”

“Do you think everyone would go along with it?”

“With a little help from Neelix, anything is possible and he’s been a rock to so many of the crew since the news of Telek R’mor’s death reached them. I know a lot of people aren’t coping too well with this blow.”