Work Text:
© July 2002, monkee
~*~
"Now Seven's damaged,
But hey, that's nothing new...
Chakotay went and left her for a man whose skin is peacock blue…"
(lyrics bastardized from 'Jen and Helen,' by Paul McDermot)
~*~
In retrospect, she really should have seen it coming. She understood that love required risk, and sacrifice, and she was willing to try. But then it became clear that most of the risk and sacrifice were to be hers. Chakotay had his heart set on building a cabin in the desert, and he refused to give up that dream, even after it became clear that her Borg implants couldn't tolerate the climate. Apparently, 'within transporter range of you' was adequate for him. So he lived in Arizona, and she took an apartment in San Francisco, coming out to see him on weekends.
It worked for a while, but then the distance between them physically began to be reflected in the distance between them emotionally. He'd fallen in love with her too quickly, she realized now. In fact, he hadn't fallen in love with her at all. He had, instead, fallen in love with some idea of her. He enjoyed being her first lover, and her mentor. When the first flush had faded, and, living and working alone, she became more confident and independent, he began to lose his enthusiasm.
She thought their days as a couple might be numbered, and it saddened her. She had not fallen in love with him too quickly, and, despite everything, she still cared for him deeply. She did not want to lose him, but if she did, she anticipated losing him to Kathryn Janeway. She knew they'd once had feelings for each other, and thought, perhaps, now that they were home, they would wish to explore them. She steeled herself for the hurt, and wondered how they would break it to her.
Which is why she was so surprised when, one Friday evening, she walked into the cabin to find him in bed with Crewman Chell.
The shock was so great that, initially, at least, she was spared the acute pain of betrayal. Chell? She was not often at a loss for words, but in this instance, she could not think of a single thing to say. She watched, detached, as the naked Bolian stammered apologies and scurried into the bathroom, inadequately covered with a sheet.
She stared at the bed, and didn't notice for several moments that Chakotay had pulled up his trousers and was talking to her.
"I didn't mean for you to find out this way." His voice finally filtered through to her consciousness. She turned to look at him, quizzically, as though she were seeing him for the very first time.
"Our romantic affiliation has ended?" she asked, unnecessarily. She just liked to have these things clarified.
"I'm sorry, Seven," Chakotay said. "But when Chell came out here to confess his true feelings for me, I realized that he is everything that I've longed for."
"Which apparently means that he enjoys your tedious parables, and doesn't mind living in a rustic cabin in the desert," she shot back, beginning to recover.
"Oh, Seven," Chakotay said, sadly, "don't be like this."
Not trusting herself to respond rationally to that, Seven turned and headed quickly for the door. Chell chose that unfortunate moment to step out of the bathroom.
"I'm sorry, Seven," he squeaked, meekly.
Had she stopped to consider the matter, she would have realized that she wasn't really angry with poor Chell. The revelation was still raw, though, and she found herself lashing out.
"I believe you will find the plumbing here insufficient for your needs," she said, flatly. Then she peered over his shoulder into the bathroom, and wrinkled her nose. "Or perhaps you have already discovered that."
With that parting shot, she left.
~*~
Not knowing where else to go, she returned to San Francisco. Only then did she realize that, since she'd been with Chakotay every weekend since Voyager's return, she had neglected to cultivate any other friendships, and she had fallen out of touch with the rest of the old crew. Once she left the transport station, she turned instinctively for her apartment, then stopped. She did not want to be alone.
The shock and anger were fading, now, and she was beginning to feel pain that she suspected had been there all along. She had failed in her attempt at a serious relationship. She had relinquished control, and let another person inside, and now she had been rejected. It actually hurt, which surprised her. Her chest felt tight, and there was a sick feeling in her stomach. She was a little bit dizzy and disoriented.
The worst part was that for the first time in her life, she was truly alone. The people walking by her, unaware of her inner turmoil, were all strangers. As a child, she'd had her family, and then the collective. On Voyager, the crew became her collective – another family, of sorts. And then, when Voyager returned, there was Chakotay. Now, she was one. She felt the familiar panic of separation begin. She looked around, desperately trying to decide where to go and what to do.
Then, suddenly, she was walking. She had never before been to her destination, but she could see the address, exactly, in her head. When had she memorized it? She hadn't explored San Francisco, but she had a precise memory for maps. She walked, with purpose, for one point seven miles to an apartment building in one of the older parts of town, right off the bay. Without hesitation, she knocked on the door.
Where else would she go but here? Where else when she was lost and hurting? Where else but to the woman who had been there for her every step of the way since her humanity had been recovered?
When Kathryn Janeway opened the door, the events of the past hour caught up with Seven completely. She felt her facial muscles contract and distort, and when she tried to speak, all that came out was a sob. She fell into her former Captain's outstretched arms.
Kathryn Janeway pulled her inside, then soothed and comforted her, responding with sympathy, anger and amusement at all the right times. In the Delta Quadrant, Kathryn had told Seven that she was her Captain, and couldn't always be her friend. Here in the Alpha Quadrant, that was no longer the case. Here in the Alpha Quadrant, Kathryn could be her friend and, some time later, something more than a friend.
Seven was finally home.
~*~
Several weeks later, Seven arrived back at the apartment after work before Kathryn did. She switched on the communications terminal to check for messages. There were about half a dozen, mostly from friends and acquaintances of Kathryn's, all of whom had readily accepted Seven into their circle. One of them, however, caught her eye. It was a message from Crewman Chell, and had originated from Chakotay's desert cabin.
It was addressed to Kathryn, but Seven's curiosity got the better of her, and she activated the viewer. The message was text only.
Captain Janeway:
I wanted to thank you for encouraging me to tell Chakotay of my true feelings for him. I don't know what made me confide in you when we ran into each other at HQ, and went for coffee, but I'm glad I did. Apparently, you were right. I am everything that Chakotay needs, and we are very happy together. I owe it all to you. I will be forever in your debt.
Sincerely, Crewman Chell
Seven stared at the screen for some time, unable to believe what she was seeing. So, it was Kathryn who had derailed her relationship with Chakotay. How devious.
Still, she found herself more bemused than angry. Kathryn had come between them not because she wanted Chakotay, but because she wanted her. And she had to admit – it had all worked out for the best. Now Chakotay was enjoying Bolian bliss in a pungent desert cabin, and she was enjoying Kathryn in San Francisco.
She hadn't allowed herself to fall in love with Kathryn on Voyager, because she knew the ship had to come first, and she didn't want to set herself up for rejection. Now, though, she knew that this was what she had wanted all along. Even better, it's what Kathryn had wanted all along as well. This – this was perfection.
She closed the message and manipulated the comm system so that it would appear that the message had not yet been opened. She could be devious, too. And some things should remain secret.
The End.
(I can't believe I just wrote a J/7...)
(Oh, and a C/Ch, too!)