TITLE: The Journey Back AUTHORS: Dolittle95125 (dolittle95125@hotmail.com) RATING: PG-13 CODES: C/7 DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters, but we don't think they can reasonably lay claim to these situations. SUMMARY: ************************************************************* Chakotay paced the confines of the small hospital waiting room impatiently. He stared at the blank utilitarian walls and tried to compose himself. He was sick of waiting, sick of being manipulated and being delayed by Starfleet medical officials. It had taken him days, weeks actually; to find out which Starfleet medical facility was currently holding Seven. They’d moved her around more than one would a pawn on a chessboard. It had taken longer to pull enough strings to even be allowed this visit. All he wanted was to see her, talk to her, and be sure she was really all right. He felt like he was running on emotional hyperdrive. He had been plagued by an ever-increasing sense of dread for the past several weeks, his fears escalating daily. He wasn’t sure where the feeling originated from; just that he was experiencing a sensation of panic, a sense of being trapped without any escape that increased daily. All of his instincts told him that something was seriously wrong. He’d tried to calm himself through meditation, and had failed. The feelings had started about two weeks after Seven had agreed to submit to the medical tests Starfleet medical had proposed. She had been unable to refuse once they had appealed to her on an emotional level. The guilt she carried with her for her time as a Borg drone would never completely dissipate, and she had seen the chance to help promote medical advances as a chance to help atone for acts she now viewed as atrocities. His musings were interrupted by the return of yet another Starfleet nurse. The third one he’d seen since being directed to the drab waiting area. Even the lack of other visitors struck him as an ominous sign. Rubbing the back of his neck, he wondered if he was starting to get paranoid. “Our patient is ready to see you, Commander.” The overly perky Starfleet nurse announced with a cheerful grin. She gestured to the door, waving him ahead of her. “Miss Hansen is in room seven.” She giggled. “Someone in admissions has a wicked sense of humor.” “If you say so,” Chakotay replied, his expression grim. He mentally recorded the setup of the hallway as they progressed to Seven’s room. His years in the Maquis had made a permanent impact on him and the bleak lackluster lines of his surroundings felt inexplicably jarring to his senses. Dull, gray, drab institutional fixtures—leading to the closed doors ahead. He’d seen brigs with more décor. Hell, the brig on Voyager had been more inviting. “Here we go. Just press the call button when you want to leave and someone will come let you out. We can’t have patients like Ms. Hansen wandering the halls, can we? ” The nurse entered an access code and stepped back to allow him entry to the room. Chakotay nodded his thanks and stepped into the semi-darkened room. Squinting into the gloom, he could just see a figure reclining on the bed. He moved forward, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dimly lit environment. “Seven?” He called softly, not wanting to wake her up too suddenly if she was asleep. He moved closer, alarmed by her lack of response. He switched on the bedside lamp. A soft glow illuminated the bed and its occupant. He stared in horrified disbelief. He could hardly reconcile the woman before him with the image of the Seven he knew. Her once shiny blond hair lay in tangled matted hanks around her gaunt face, although it appeared as though someone had tried to comb it into some semblance of a style. High cheekbones, part of her remarkable facial structure, were so prominent that her cheeks appeared sunken beneath them. Her blue eyes were fixed and staring, unblinking. Even when he stepped closer and touched the side of her face with the back of his hand, she didn’t react. A Starfleet issue medical gown hung from her once shapely frame, one shoulder exposed. Seven had entered Starfleet medical a strong, healthy woman, but the woman lying in the bed was a mere shadow of herself. “My god, what have they done to you?” He muttered more to himself than to the unmoving figure before him. He carefully seated himself on the edge of the bed and took her Borg enhanced hand carefully in both of his. His fingers traced the lines of the implant, lingering over the soft flesh it encased. He brought the hand up to his cheek and rested it against the warmth of his face for a minute before bringing it to his lips. Kissing it gently, he vowed, “I’ll get you out of here, Seven. I don’t care what it takes.” He stood and moved to the window, flipping open the closed blind. Natural sunlight streamed into the room, emphasizing the utilitarian, stark furnishings. He pulled one of the chairs into the sunshine and draped it with a blanket. Moving to the bed, he picked Seven up and deposited her gently on the chair. He moved to the dresser for her brush and gently started working the knots and snarls out of her once lustrous hair. He started talking, about anything and everything he could think of, his voice soft and soothing, reassuring… ** ** ** “Did you know what they were doing to her?” Chakotay planted his hands on the gleaming surface of Admiral Janeway’s desk and leaned towards his former Captain and best friend. “Have you even bothered to check on her? Seven trusted you. She only agreed to let Starfleet run their medical tests because you suggested that it would make things easier for her.” His face was set, eyes glittering like shards of obsidian. Admiral Kathryn Janeway closed her eyes briefly, trying to gather her thoughts and address her justifiably angry former First officer. She felt a wave of guilt suffuse her, and almost welcomed the familiar emotion. Guilt was one emotion she was familiar with, it was her constant companion. She had neglected Seven, hadn’t wanted to face the possibility that Starfleet would mistreat the former Borg. And she’d multiplied the sin of neglect by ignoring the increasingly frenzied messages she’d received from Chakotay as the days had passed. Frankly, she just hadn’t had the energy to deal with yet another crisis. Their homecoming had been fraught with pressures and problems and she hadn’t possessed the energy to face yet another one. “Of course I didn’t know what they were doing to her. How could I?” She pushed back slightly, putting her chair out of range of his anger. “At first I received regular communiqués about Seven. I even talked to her a couple of times. The situation seemed well in hand, so I turned my attention to what I felt were more important issues.” She picked up the ever-present mug of coffee on her desk and sipped. Grimacing, she swallowed the cold dark beverage. Even cold she welcomed the familiar smoky flavor as an old friend. “Chakotay, I’ve had my own issues of adjustment to deal with. I really thought Seven was in good hands. I also assumed that since you were involved with her that you would be looking out for her.” “I understand that you have a whole contingency of new duties, Kathryn. But you also had a responsibility to Seven. You’re the only one they allowed her to have any contact with; I tried repeatedly to visit her. All my requests were denied. As were my messages to her.” Chakotay moved around the desk, stood before her, cornering her. “I lost track of how many times I asked you to intervene, but you didn’t respond.” “I already explained how busy I’ve been, Chakotay. Federation business comes first. It always has, and always will.” Kathryn Janeway rose from her hair, hand on her hip in a pose he’d seen her strike hundreds of times. He noticed she’d taken to wearing her hair pulled up again, a severe upswept style that made her appear older and sterner. “I’m not going to let you try and make me feel the brunt of responsibility here. Seven is an adult. She agreed to help Starfleet Medical. She knew, and accepted, the risks involved.” She lowered her voice, “I am sorry she’s been adversely affected, but I won’t let you place all the blame on me. Think of all the miraculous things that science will be able to do with what they learn. Advances always require sacrifice.” “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Disbelief and outrage colored his voice, hands on his hips; he stared at her in complete and utter disbelief. His face flushed red with anger as he fought to control his emotions. “That isn’t what I said. I’m only trying to make you understand the official explanation for what has been done to Seven.” She sighed deeply. “I fully intend to try and help her. But it may very well be that she’s better off where she is. Especially if she’s been somehow permanently damaged. You have to be prepared to accept that.” “You, of all people, can’t really believe that. You were always her staunchest champion. You encouraged her when most of us didn’t believe she could, or would, ever regain her humanity. I can’t believe you’d simply give up on her, regardless of the circumstances. Or try and make excuses for anyone that harmed her. That’s not the Kathryn Janeway I know.” “You’re right.” She sighed, seemingly lost in her own thoughts for a moment. A small smile played about her thin lips, as though her memories brought amusement or pleasure, he wasn’t sure which. “I’ve always tried to encourage her. I could see potential in her, even when she was still a Borg drone. Her innate intelligence was apparent, right from the start. The Borg weren’t able to completely eradicate her humanity, in spite of them selves. I’ve always thought that was why the Borg queen was so interested in her. She was unique.” “Don’t talk about her like she’s past our help, Kathryn. There has to be a way to get through to her. Even though I don’t have any idea of what that might be. She doesn’t respond to any kind of stimulus. I talked to her for hours, hoping for some sign of recognition. Nothing I said, or did, seemed to get through to her. We have to get her away from that place.” She moved closer to Chakotay, laid her hand on his chest in a placating manner. Her fingers played with the edge of his jacket, smoothing the soft fabric. “That may be easier said than done, Chakotay. I need to make some inquiries. Meet me later for dinner and I’ll let you know what I find out. I want to get a handle on what it’s going to take to get her released. She entered voluntarily, but I have a feeling it’s going to take a whole lot more to get her out.” She smiled up at him ruefully, her head cocked to one side as she waited for his reply. He nodded in reluctant agreement. Impatient for answers, he realized he’d have to play by her rules to get them. “I’ll see you later then. How about eight o’clock at the wharf?” “I’ll see you then. Cross your fingers that I have good news.” The news wasn’t good. Not that Chakotay had expected it would be, at least not after seeing Seven’s condition. He stood at the end of the pier watching the swirling gray water ebb and flow against the pilings. The air was cool with a slight sting of salt, and the fog was just starting to creep towards the coast. Wispy tendrils as illusive as smoke drifted into the air. If he were a drinking man, he would have headed for the nearest dockside dive and drowned his sorrows in the comfort of real alcohol. Unfortunately, he only drank in moderation so drowning his misery wasn’t an option. Slamming his fist against the railing, he scarcely felt the pain of the impact; his mind too preoccupied with what Kathryn had told him over dinner. According to Kathryn, the prognosis was bleak, to put it bluntly. Seven had reacted badly to a series of medical procedures Starfleet medical had performed several weeks earlier. Despite treatment, her condition showed no improvement, and none was now expected. Her semi-comatose state was expected to remain constant. The doctor in charge of the case had assured Kathryn that Seven felt no pain and was kept comfortable. He had no idea how long she would or could survive in her current condition. Starfleet would continue to monitor her health until her life terminated from natural causes. They didn’t plan any intervention in that case, either. The doctor had been brief, to the point, and unapologetic. He’d even gone as far as to congratulate Kathryn for bringing a Borg back from the Delta quadrant. The medical knowledge gained had far outweighed the consequences as far as he was concerned. Kathryn Janeway hadn’t changed too much; she’d nearly taken off the doctors head in reaction to his opinions. Some things did remain constant, apparently. His callousness had brought her protective instincts towards Seven to the fore. Chakotay sighed deeply as he thrust his chilled hands into his jacket pockets. The autumn night had cooled, the air holding the distinct chill of the winter season to come. He shivered slightly and headed back up the pier to make the walk home. He felt the solitude of the night surround him and took solace in the darkness. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so alone, so without hope… He awoke with a start, sitting straight up in bed, his heart pounding, his breathing harsh and erratic. He pushed the clinging sheets away from his sweat-covered body and walked to the half open balcony door. He welcomed the rush of cool air on his heated body, willed his frantic heart and breathing into a more normal mode. It was the same nightmare every night of the past week. He awoke feeling trapped and helpless, frantic to escape from somewhere, or something. He wasn’t sure what. Just that the need to escape was all consuming. According to the EMH, he was suffering from panic attacks brought on by anxiety. But Chakotay knew there was more to what was happening in his sleep than mere anxiety attacks. As the sweat dried on his rapidly cooling body, he turned back to his rumpled bed. He didn’t bother to straighten the chaos of crumpled blankets and sheets, just lay down on top of them and closed his eyes. Sleep was usually elusive after one of these occurrences; he didn’t anticipate that this time would be any different. He forced himself to relax, felt the tense muscles in his arms and legs slowly become pliant as the stress ebbed from his system. His mind drifted as he let go of conscious thought, forcing himself into a state of mind somewhere between dreams and reality. Reaching out with his mind, he tried to initialize contact with the part of his subconscious mind that produced the re-occurring dreams. Feeling as if he had suddenly fast focused into an alternate reality, the scene in his mind clarified the imagery as crystal clear as a new holo-picture. He found himself in a gray tunnel, moving rapidly into an ever increasing dense fog. He was unable to focus on, or determine anything to his right or left, just the thick grey opacity of the fog. He felt panic starting to build, sharper and more intense with each step he took into the fog. The tunnel seemed to stretch out indefinitely. He wasn’t sure how long he traversed it before the end of the tunnel came in sight. He sighed in relief thinking that perhaps help lay at the tunnels end. A large door blocked his further progression. It seemed to be endless in its dimensions, reaching as far as he could see in all directions. Thick and heavy, studded with large bolts, it was windowless and handless. He ran his hands over the surface, searching each inch for some kind of handle or means of escape. Complete panic engulfed his senses, he raised his clenched fists and pounded on the door in a frantic frenzy. The fog around him thickened, darkened, threatened to completely absorb him. The sense of panic escalated, his pounding became more out of control and hysterical. His heart picked up the rhythm of his fists, and his breath caught in his throat. Breathing became impossible. The blackness of oblivion engulfed him and he felt himself falling further into the darkness and fog. Helpless. He jerked to his senses, a scream dying on his lips even as awareness flooded his mind. He was shocked to discover he was calling out his own name. “Chakotay”… ********************************************************************** ***************************************************** “I tell you that it was more than a dream, more than a nightmare. I felt like I was actually there.” Chakotay surveyed Tom and B’Elanna. Seated across the table from him at a quiet bistro they exchanged worried glances. His story seemed too fantastic to believe. “And just where was that, Chakotay.” Tom asked. “I’m not sure I understand what you think is going on here. You had a bad dream and now you think you made some kind of mystical journey. You’ve got to admit, that’s pretty far fetched.” “Chakotay,” B’Elanna glared at Tom before covering Chakotay’s hand with her own, she could feel the tension vibrating through him, even in his hand. She gripped his fingers, uncertain how he would accept what she was about to say. “I know all of this has been hard on you. You were alone for a long time. Truthfully, most of us didn’t think that you and Seven were compatible for a long-term relationship. I think that most of your friends were worried that you’d get hurt.” She sighed. “And you have been. Just not in the way we anticipated.” “Just what are you driving at, B’Elanna?” Chakotay demanded as he pulled his hand from her grip. “I’m just trying to tell you that we understand how painful all of this has been for you. Anyone could have nightmares in a situation like this. You cared about Seven, and now she’s gone. That’s a pretty painful situation for anyone to accept.” “It sounds like you’re tactfully trying to say that you think I’m crazy.” Anger tightened the features of his face, flared in his eyes. B’Elanna faltered. She’d seen him this angry before, and didn’t want to be on the receiving end. “That’s not what I’m saying. Not at all. I’m trying to say that I think the stress of the situation has affected you. That’s all. I think you should have the doctor check you out. “ “I don’t need a doctor, B’Elanna. I’m perfectly sane. I’m tired, and I’m worried about Seven, but I’m not going crazy. Someone is trying to tell me something, I just have to figure out what it is.” “Look, Chakotay. I think what B’Elanna’s trying to tell you is that you need to move on. What happened is tragic, but you can’t change it.” Tom tried interceding. “We’re all upset over what happened to Seven, but you need to put it behind you. You’ll make yourself crazy, or sick if you keep this up.” Chakotay stood up so suddenly his chair toppled over behind him. He glared at them, his eyes as cold and dark. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.” He flung his napkin on the table and strode away without looking back. B’Elanna and Tom could almost see the anger radiating from him as he made his way through the restaurant. “Chakotay…” B’Elanna called after his retreating figure, not really surprised when he kept going. She sat down with a sigh. Chakotay was one of her dearest friends and she hated that they’d hurt him. “Well, we really blew that, didn’t we?” “He’ll never forgive us.” B’Elanna said. “You know as well as I do that he’s stubborn as a mule.” “We’ll just have to find a way to make him listen to us.” Tom reassured her. He smiled confidently. “You know how persuasive I can be.” “Better than anyone.” She smiled in spite of herself; she was well acquainted with his persuasive talents. “Between the two of us we’ll bring him around. You wait and see. I’ll have him eating out of the palm of my hand.” ********************************************************************** ************************************************** Icheb’s hand hovered hesitantly over the door chime. Internally he debated the pros and cons of the situation. Steeling himself, he rang the chime and stepped back. “Icheb, what are you doing here?” Chakotay stood in the doorway wearing black sweatpants and t-shirt. ”I’m sorry to disturb you at this time of the night, but I had to talk to someone.” Icheb ran a nervous hand through his hair. “No problem, Icheb. Come on in.” Chakotay stepped aside and gestured the younger man into his apartment. “It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, but it is kind of late. I’m assuming this isn’t a social call.” He crossed his arms and sat on the arm of the chair opposite of where Icheb was seated. “I’m not sure how to tell you why I’m here.” Icheb swallowed audibly. “I’m afraid something is wrong with me. “ “Have you seen a doctor?” Chakotay asked. “The Starfleet doctors insist that nothing is wrong with me. Physically I appear to be functioning normally.” Chakotay felt a chill touch his soul. Looking at the clearly troubled young man he moved to sit on the coffee table in front of Icheb. “What ever the problem is, you can tell me. And I’ll try to help you in any way that I can.” Icheb looked at Chakotay, clearly measuring the veracity of his words. Apparently satisfied with what he read in the other mans features he nodded. “I keep having these strange dreams.” “What happens in your dreams?” Chakotay queried. “They vary, but in most of them I’m trapped in what seems like an endless corridor. When I finally find a way out it’s barred, or there isn’t anyway to open the door.” Icheb continued “This is going to sound crazy, but I think what I’m dreaming about involves Seven.” His eyes filled with unshed tears. “I know I must sound impaired, going on this way. Seven would say I’m being completely irrational. But the feelings just won’t go away.” Chakotay recognized the dream that Icheb described immediately. For some as yet undetermined reason they were sharing a similar experience. And like Icheb, Chakotay felt the common thread had to be Seven. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re going crazy. If you are, then so am I.” Chakotay knew how Icheb felt; he had been questioning his own sanity for the past several weeks. “These dreams have to be connected to Seven, Icheb. I’ve been experiencing something similar for several weeks.” A look of relief came over the young man’s features. “I really thought I was losing my mental faculties. I saw the doctor at the academy and he told me nothing was wrong. He attributed my dreams to the stress of adapting to life as a cadet.” “Starfleet medical told me I was suffering from stress as well. It seems to be their stock answer.” Chakotay replied. “I suspected something else was going on, and your experience is just more proof.” “What do you think is really happening?” Icheb asked. “I think Seven is trying to contact us.” Chakotay stood and started pacing. He couldn’t seem to sit still for long, his body filled with restless energy. “Think about this logically, Icheb. Both of us shared a link with her. You saved her life by giving her your cortical node, and I had a neural link to her when she was first severed from the Borg. I think that those links are now somehow serving as a connection to her unconscious mind. I know it sounds far-fetched, but if you think about it; it does make sense.” Icheb listened to Chakotay in complete silence. The theory was far-fetched, seemed impossible, but for some reason he was positive it was also the truth. He nodded in agreement. “I concur. But what is she trying to tell us?” “I think she’s trying to let us know that she’s trapped in her own mind and body. And I think it’s going to be up to us to try and help her. Everyone else thinks it’s hopeless.” “Just let me know what you want me to do, Chakotay. Seven is my family.” He stated simply. “I have a plan, Icheb. With your help, I think I can make it work.” Chakotay felt a sense of relief to finally be taking action. For the first time in weeks he felt a small glimmer of hope. ## “Chakotay, you can’t do this.” Kathryn Janeway tried to reason with her former First Officer. “I know you think what you’re doing is for the best, but Seven needs constant medical care. Her condition is fragile, she could destabilize at any time.” “I know that. And I also know that I’m not going to let her go without a fight. And if I do lose her, she’s not going to be hooked up to machines and surrounded by people who don’t know her, and don’t give a damn about her.” He reached out and placed one hand on Kathryn’s shoulder. “You know she deserves better than that, Kathryn. She might as well be in the Collective if she stays here.” His voice softened as he saw a look of surrender in her eyes. “Damn it, Chakotay. You still fight dirty.” She swiped a hand across her eyes before closing them briefly. “You win. I’ll authorize her removal from the hospital.” “Thank you, Kathryn. I owe you.” He handed her the padd. “You’ll need this.” She nodded started to walk away and turned back. “You know I almost envy her.” She whispered. “There was a time when I think you might have been able to care about me like this. When I see how much you care, how dedicated you are, I’m almost jealous. I could have had that.” “That was a long time ago, Kathryn. And I think we both realize by now that it wouldn’t have worked. We’re too different.” His tone was gentle. “I’m glad we’re friends. I can’t imagine not having you as a friend. And I know for a fact that Seven values your friendship as well.” “I know. I’m just being sentimental.” Kathryn Janeway smiled at him, and if that smile was slightly forced, a bit resigned, he didn’t notice. ## Chakotay bent over the frail form on the bed. If anything she looked more fragile than she had a few days earlier. They’d dressed her in preparation for leaving, the casual pants and tunic hung from her frame like a child dressed in adult clothing. “I’m here to take you home, Seven.” Her expression remained blank, her eyes focused inward on something only she could see. Sighing, he lifted her into the wheelchair, waiving away the nurse that hovered nearby. “I won’t need your help. My friend has transport arranged.” He tried to smile at the nurse, it wasn’t her fault Seven was in the state she was in, but he found his bitterness extending to all of Starfleet medical. He placed the small duffel bag that Seven had packed so many weeks before, on the handle of the chair and took a last glance around the room for any forgotten personal belongings. Except for a few wrinkles in the blanket the room was austere and antiseptic, almost as if nobody had resided there. He wheeled her down the hall, past the waiting area he’d waited in so impatiently several weeks before, past the nurse’s station that guarded the private rooms. They entered the turbolift to go down to the ground floor level. They couldn’t get out fast enough as far as Chakotay was concerned. Even the air was difficult to breath with it’s chemically- enhanced scent of sanitation. “Icheb’s waiting for us. I thought we could get away for awhile.” Chakotay wasn’t sure she could hear him, but he knew that the medical profession encouraged communication with comatose patients. “I know you’ll be glad to get away from the hospital.” “Chakotay.” Icheb ran up, slightly breathless. “I have the shuttle ready.” He stopped abruptly, his features registering horrified shock. “What did they do to her?” Chakotay nodded toward Seven. “We can talk about that later. Let’s just worry about getting her out of here.” Swallowing his concern and questions, Icheb nodded his agreement and gestured towards the waiting shuttle. ## The shuttle approached the small clearing, decelerating and making a landing approach. It settled softly, its landing gear settling in the long, lush grass so smoothly it was almost unnoticeable. A small house stood a few yards away. Built the traditional way, the wood boards were weathered to a faded gray. Vines twined around the front porch providing shade and softening the angular lines of the building. An old fashioned swing for two quivered slightly in the breeze. ”You’re becoming a good pilot, Icheb.” Chakotay praised. “I don’t think Tom Paris could have landed this shuttle any smoother.” “I’ve heard stories about you in your younger days.” Icheb grinned. “You were considered pretty hot stuff.” Chakotay barely concealed his own smile before growling in mock anger, “In my younger days? I think I take offense to that.” Icheb flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out…” Chakotay laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I guess compared to a bunch of cadets I do seem pretty old.” “Not old.” Icheb stammered. “Just mature. I mean… experienced.” “Stop.” Chakotay held up a hand. “I’m not sure my ego can take much more of this, so I am going to quit while I’m ahead. Besides I want to get Seven settled. She has to be tired.” He glanced at her as he spoke, noticed that her eyes were closed. She appeared to be sleeping. He sighed, and asked himself yet again if he was doing the right thing. He wished he could answer his own question. ## “Seven.” He crouched by her chair, hoping against hope that this time she would respond. “We’re alone this evening. I gave Elena the night off.” Elena Valdez, an old friend of his mother’s had agreed to come and help take care of the invalid Seven. Her own family had been killed by the Cardassians and she welcomed the chance to help the son of her old friend. Kind and cheerful by nature, she never lost patience or her optimistic outlook on her patient’s recovery. She’d told Chakotay time after time to have faith; she knew Seven was getting better every day. He wished he had some proof of it, though. Faith was a difficult thing to maintain in the face of such immense odds. He placed a hand on her cheek and gently guided her gaze to his face. The six weeks that she had been out of the hospital had effected radical changes in her appearance. Her overly skeletal frame had begun to fill out, the contours of her face no longer appeared sunken and drawn. Thanks to Elena’s meticulous care, her skin and hair once again had the glow of health. Judging by appearance only, she was recovering. He sighed. He wished he had a sign that she was healing on the inside. The only thing he had to go by was the dreams that still plagued Icheb and himself. They no longer occurred nightly, instead coming once or twice a week, more vivid and terrifying than ever. The sense of frustration, of being trapped, had increased drastically. All he wanted at this point was any sign that she was getting better. He stood, stretched to ease the tight muscles in his back and shoulders. He’d been sleeping on the less than luxurious couch in the main room of the small house, leaving the bedrooms to Seven and Elena. Icheb joined him on the floor when he spent weekends with them. Turning back to the simple dinner he was preparing, his mind wandered back to some of the gourmet meals Seven had prepared for them. Her skill in the culinary arts was extraordinary, and she seemed to really enjoy the ritual of preparing and cooking meals. She had described it to him as “satisfying”. Compared to some of the Cordon Bleu meals she’d prepared, his simple meal of vegetable soup and bread seemed almost an insult. But his cooking skills ran the gamut of simple and plain to simple and plain, which sufficed most of the time. He turned, reaching into a cupboard to remove bowls and plates. He turned to Seven and found her eyes tracking his every movement. “Are you hungry?” He continued with his tasks, trying to calm the surge of excitement running through him. This, finally, was a positive indication that she was making progress. He moved the small table closer to her chair, placed a bowl of soup and a plate of bread and butter in front of her. Her gaze moved from his face down to the food on the table, then back to his face. Acting on sheer instinct, he placed the spoon in her hand, folding her fingers around the utensil. Again, her gaze left his face, traveling to the utensil in her clenched hand. A small furrow appeared between her brows as she contemplated it. Heart pounding, he gently guided the spoon into the soup and back towards her mouth. Shakily, spilling most of its contents, she brought to her lips. “I knew you were getting better, Seven.” For the first time in weeks he allowed himself to feel optimistic, even happy. Smiling broadly, he leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. Drawing back, he was startled to feel the touch of her hand on his cheek. Her fingers tentatively brushed across his cheekbone, then moved up to touch the tattoo on his brow before dropping in exhaustion. He picked up her hand, enfolded it in both of his. He thought he felt her fingers squeeze his for a moment, but the movement was so soft and over so quickly he wasn’t sure if it happened or if he only wished it had happened. ## “This can’t go on, Chakotay.” The EMH stated emphatically. “I’ve been told you discontinued her medications. Is that true?” “Yes. They were poisoning her. Seven has improved radically since I brought her here. You saw for yourself that she’s responding to her surroundings much more than she was.” Chakotay answered. “She has shown a slight improvement. Since she is no longer taking medication, the improvements you note may not be an accurate reflection of her true state of health.” “What do you mean, slight? She’s able to feed herself; she’s regaining her physical strength. You saw her walk. That’s a hell of a lot better than the vegetative state she was in when she was at Starfleet medical. Admit it.” Chakotay raged. “But we can’t be sure how much of these so-called improvements are real. The drugs may have been masking these capabilities all along. If that’s the case, then she hasn’t really improved at all.” “I don’t believe that’s the case. She’s getting better, stronger, every day.” “Your friends are worried about you,” the doctor replied. “They’ve asked me to intervene. To try and reason with you. Bring Seven back to civilization where she can get real medical care. I’m sure you have the best of intentions, but you can’t take adequate care of her here. You have no medical training, and your friend isn’t much better. You have to be logical about this.” “Tom and B’Elanna put you up to this, didn’t they?” Chakotay queried. “Just so you haven’t wasted the trip, you can deliver a message for me. Tell them to back off and butt out. I know what I’m doing. I appreciate their concern, but they don’t’ need to worry, we’re fine.” “You don’t look fine to me. Look at you. You’re a mess. You haven’t shaved in days. And just how long has it been since you slept in a decent bed?” On a roll, the doctor continued his litany of criticisms. “I know for a fact that Icheb has missed a number of classes to run up here and help with Seven. He’s almost as obsessed as you are. Do you want him to flunk out of the academy?” “Of course, I don’t want him to flunk out. But I haven’t forced Icheb to come up here. He comes because Seven is his family. He cares about her. He wants to help her.” Chakotay replied angrily. “You say you’re her friend, I’d think you’d want to do more than just stand there criticizing.” Obviously affronted, the doctor gathered up his medical kit. “It is clear to me that you are suffering from an excess of stress, Chakotay. You can be assured that I’ll be speaking to Admiral Janeway about this situation. No need to show me the way out.” “Good riddance.” Chakotay muttered under his breath. He knew he could expect to hear from Kathryn Janeway in a matter of hours. She would be on the comm as soon as the EMH reported to her. ## “I guess one or all of us are going to have to go up there.” Kathryn Janeway stated to Tom and B’Elanna. “This can’t go on. If the doctor’s report is accurate, and I’m sure it is, he’s out of control.” She stood looking out the window at the view, watching the lights in the night sky. “When I agreed to help him get Seven out of the hospital, I had no idea he was going to take her away from the city. If she had a medical emergency it would take him too long to get her back to a medical facility. We’d lose her.” “I’m not sure Chakotay wants to see any of us.” B’Elanna joined Kathryn at the window. “It sounds like he isn’t acting like himself. The Chakotay I know is logical and practical. He’d never behave this way.” “Love does strange things to us all, B’Elanna.” Kathryn Janeway smiled sadly. “And make no mistake about it. Chakotay loves Seven.” “He also loves a cause.” Tom joined them at the window. “He loves having something, or someone that needs him.” “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be needed. Everyone, even you Tom, wants the same thing.” Kathryn patted his chest. “You just express the need differently.” He shrugged. “Maybe, but I still think he likes lost causes. They bring out the hero in him.” “You may be right. But let’s hope that Seven isn’t a lost cause.” A pensive look crossed Janeway’s face. “I once promised her that life in the Alpha quadrant would be wonderful. I think it’s fallen a little short in the wonderful area, so far.” B’Elanna placed a comforting hand on her arm. “It’s not your fault. Starfleet Medical crossed the boundaries of decency when they conducted their experiments on Seven. I heard through the doctor that several doctors have been suspended pending a full investigation of the matter. They could be court-martialed” “They should be.” Janeway replied vehemently. “Every single one of them. They’re butchers, not doctors. What they did to Seven in the name of medicine is inexcusable.” “Well, I guess we know who initiated the investigation.” Tom whispered to B’Elanna. “So who’s going with me?” Janeway asked, pretending she hadn’t heard their whispered comments. “Well, there’s safety in numbers, I think we should all go.” B”Elanna spoke up. “Chakotay might be able to argue with one of us, but he can’t argue with all of us and win.” “I’ll check my calendar and get back to you. I think sooner is better than later in this case.” ## Chakotay watched the shuttle approach the clearing near the house. He’d been expecting visitors after his exchange with the doctor. He was only surprised it had taken them so long. Two weeks, as a matter of fact. “We have visitors.” He sat down next to Seven in the swing and put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his shoulder, resting against him. She frowned. “Whom?” Her voice was still slightly husky sounding from weeks of disuse. Her speech had only returned to her in the past few days. Several nights earlier Chakotay had awakened from a sound sleep to the sound of screams coming from her bedroom. Rushing to comfort her, he found her struggling with Elena like a madwoman. He had joined the fray, combating her flaying arms and legs as she fought remembered foes. It had taken them hours to calm her hysteria. Holding her in his arms while she finally slept, he’d dozed off himself. He’d awakened to find her gazing at him, recognition in her eyes. The first word she had spoken in months was his name. She had rapidly regained her ability to speak and the physical weakness continued to dissipate daily. She still wasn’t completely recovered, but she was well on the road to it. Her memories of her illness were fragmented, as were her memories of the procedures performed on her by Starfleet Medical. “I’d take bets that it’s Kathryn. I’m pretty sure the doctor went straight back to her with his report. I’m just surprised it took her this long to get here.” “Perhaps you should greet them.” Seven suggested. “I’m comfortable right where I am. They’ll find their way.” Chakotay smiled at her, hugged her closer to him. “I’m sure they will.” Seven stood as she spoke. “I would like to look more presentable before seeing the Admiral.” She gestured to her baggy sweat pants and shirt. He laughed. “Go ahead. I’ll greet our so-called guests.” He watched her retreat into the house, her movement slightly slower, a little less fluid than usual. “Good morning, Chakotay.” Kathryn called to him from the yard. “You have visitors.” She was flanked by B’Elanna and Tom. “So, I see. What brings the three of you out here?” As if he didn’t know, he thought to himself. “We’ve been concerned about you.” They moved in tandem onto the porch. Safety in numbers, he thought to himself. He knew her so well. “No reason for concern. Everything is fine, as you can see.” He gestured around him. “No problems. Kathryn moved closer, leaving Tom and B’Elanna behind her. “Chakotay, I spoke to the doctor a couple of weeks ago. He was quite concerned about both of you.” She looked around. “I don’t see your helper anywhere. Is she in the house with Seven?” “Elena? No, she went back home. I didn’t need her anymore.” Chakotay explained. Kathryn exchanged worried looks with Tom and B’Elanna. “What do you mean you didn’t need her anymore? Seven still needs care, doesn’t she? She hasn’t gotten worse, has she?” Her worry was transparent, her voice tinged with panic. “I no longer required her assistance.” Seven spoke from the doorway. She had changed into a long sundress. The pale blue color almost exactly matching her eyes. “Seven.” Kathryn breathed the single syllable. She felt tears cloud her eyes. “You look wonderful.” She moved to embrace the former drone and was shocked when she felt the other woman’s arms encompass her briefly as well. “I doubt that wonderful is the appropriate adjective. But I am successfully recovering. I anticipate a full recovery in a few weeks.” She moved to greet Tom and B’Elanna. “I can’t believe how well she looks.” Kathryn watched Seven’s interaction with the other couple. “You worked a miracle, Chakotay.” “There’s nothing miraculous about it. All we did was take her off the drugs that Starfleet was feeding her. Icheb constructed a portable regeneration unit that we used daily as well. The rest was common sense. Clean air, good food, and constant mental stimulation. The rest was Seven. She’s a remarkable woman.” He leaned on the porch rail, arms crossed over his chest, watching Seven as well. “I think you’re underestimating your own role in all of this, Chakotay. Without your persistence and determination, I don’t think she would have come this far.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye and added slyly, “Without your love.” She could have sworn he blushed. “Love is a strong motivating factor, Kathryn.” His features softened as he continued watching Seven. He smiled. “It’s not something that should be taken for granted. It’s a gift.” Watching his face as he moved to join Seven and the others, Kathryn smiled to herself. “It is indeed, Chakotay.” ## Six months later… Chakotay laid the last log in the fireplace. He hoped his fire-making abilities had improved with time. He grimaced at his memories. At least Seven wouldn’t have to hack off her hair, he thought ruefully. Sitting back on his haunches he surveyed the small room to make sure everything was ready for her arrival. Wine chilled on a bed of ice, crystal flutes at the ready. Fat white pillar candles waited to be lit. A nest of quilts and pillows lay on the floor before the fire. He knew from experience they’d be far more comfortable than the aged couch. The fire just needed lighting as well. Seven had returned to her post two months earlier, as had he. Her illness, and subsequent recovery, had drawn them even closer. Seven had given up her smaller apartment and moved into his a few weeks after their return to the city. Tonight he planned on asking her to make their living arrangements permanent. Whatever the future brought, he knew he wanted them to face it together. A brief knock sounded on the sturdy front door before it opened. Seven stepped over the threshold bundled in a long wool coat. “It’s freezing out there. Why did you insist on meeting all the way out here?” Her question died on her lips as she glanced about the room. “You’ve been busy.” She smiled at him, warmth suffusing her features. “So I have. Come on over here and I’ll warm you up.” Chakotay lit the fire and extended his arm to her. Dropping her coat, she moved eagerly into his embrace. Several hours later, nestled in the warm cocoon of blankets, Seven raised her hand and surveyed the sparkling ring on her finger. It caught the prisms of light from the crackling fire sending dancing rainbows onto the wall. Sapphires to match her eyes, Chakotay had told her. He caught her hand in his and placed a single lingering kiss on her palm. With a sigh of contentment she rested her head on his chest and snuggled up to the warmth of his body and together they drifted into a light sleep… The end.