**Fractured Reflections**

The soft glow of ambient lighting cast long shadows across Captain Janeway's quarters, a gentle reminder that time had, for the most part, returned to its natural course. Yet, the emotional residue of their journey through fractured time lingered, a presence that neither Janeway nor Chakotay could shake. Janeway's posture was tight, her arms loosely crossed as she sat across from Chakotay. The half-empty cider glass, untouched since the timeline reset, sat on the table between them, a quiet testament to the surreal experiences they had endured. She eyed the glass, her gaze wandering to the memories that it represented. Chakotay sensed the shift in Janeway's demeanor, a subtle change that spoke to the turmoil brewing within her. He didn't press, choosing instead to let the silence between them do some of the work. His tone was warm, low, and steady as he spoke, "You're troubled, Kathryn." Janeway's expression turned inward, her eyes drifting as she searched for the right words. "I saw myself," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "Or, at least, a version of myself. Confident, idealistic... unscarred." Chakotay's eyes crinkled at the corners as he listened, his expression a gentle counterpoint to Janeway's discomfort. "You were always idealistic, Kathryn," he said softly. Janeway's lips twisted, a wry smile threatening to surface before she reined it in. "I don't think that's something to be proud of," she said, her voice tinged with a quiet rejection of the label. "It feels... naive." Chakotay's gaze never wavered, his eyes holding a deep understanding. "Idealism isn't naïveté, Kathryn," he said gently. "It's courage. The courage to believe that things can be better, that they must be better." Janeway's smile this time was a brief, flickering thing, a reflexive attempt to deflect the weight of Chakotay's words. She caught herself, letting the moment pass, and instead, let her gaze drift back to the cider glass. The silence that followed was intentional, an emotional truce rather than avoidance. As they sat there, surrounded by the soft shadows of the quarters, Janeway felt the weight of Chakotay's words settling within her. She thought of her younger self, of the choices she had made, and the scars that those choices had left behind. And in that moment, she knew that she was struggling to reconcile the past with the present. "I suppose some things are meant to stay fractured," she said finally, her voice low, her words hanging in the air like a challenge, or a question.