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To my beta, without whom I literally wouldn't be here to write. When everyone else had turned away, you were there to pick me up and push me back onto the proper path: trusting me, helping me, supporting me when nobody else would: my best friend, my only true friend. I owe you everything.
Rage. Uncontrolled, unmitigated wrath, like magma stewing beneath the rim of an active volcano, causing her to shudder like the earthquakes preceding a long-awaited eruption. She was a kettle, and sooner or later, the water within her would boil, and she would scream that she'd had enough. Unless there was a way to let out the steam…
But this storm had been too long brewing inside her. She was never one to seek revenge before, but never before had she felt this violated, this betrayed. The ones who had hurt her were going to rue the day they planned their first attack. Truth was usually her weapon of choice, but when lies are the natural language, truth is useless: against this opponent, she needed to use force.
She was going to make them pay. She was going to hurt them back. They had no idea who they were messing with.
Her muscles tensed, shuddered. She felt something drip down the inside of her leg…sweat? Or blood? She resisted the urge to finger the liquid and bring it to her lips for an assessment. Now was not the time. She had to fight…
He moved slightly, winced. She narrowed her eyes – then, lightning-speed, drew a fist to his face. She felt the skin give on contact…she'd broken it. He would bleed now. She imagined collecting his blood into a bowl and painting herself with it. War paint, signifying that she was an enemy to be reckoned with.
But to get enough for the decoration, she would need to force it out of him, squeeze it from his skin like her soul had been squeezed from her body…he would writhe in pain under her touch, and she would relish every moment of it…
But first another blow, before he could fight back. With her other fist, she punched him in the stomach, and took satisfaction when he began to buckle. But before he could bend over entirely, she raised her knee between his legs, forcing it into his groin with as much force as she could muster. He doubled over in pain, coughed. As he collapsed, she set a fist to his stomach, and he groaned in pain.
She'd won.
But…not so fast; something wasn't right. Her stomach lurched and her heart raced in anticipation of discovering what she was missing…
A touch, to her shoulder. There was another assailant! She whirled around…not fast enough. A hissing sound, cold metal against the warm skin of her neck, and before she could defend herself, she felt herself crumpling to the ground, her anger heating up inside her even as her muscles relaxed into oblivion. No. No! She couldn't let them win! She had saved herself for this fight…it couldn't be over!
She wasn't finished. The fire that burned within her would defend her against their assaults. She felt as if she'd swallowed a live grenade: she would explode and kill them along with her; she might not survive to celebrate her victory, but they would not be able to attack anyone else again.
As she drifted out of consciousness, she was vaguely aware of the first offender rising from the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks. Good: a coward, crybaby. Can't even take a couple of punches. When I wake up, I will be able to hurt him again...and this time, I will be ready for the other…
"Ouch," cried Chakotay, cringing as the doctor brushed a holographic hand across his tender wound.
The hologram raised an eyebrow. "She got you good this time, didn't she?" He didn't give the human time to reply. "No matter; we'll have you fixed up in no time."
Mutely, the elderly man nodded. If only it were so easy to fix her…
As the doctor dabbed at the remaining blood on his patient's cheek, he lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "How's she doing?"
Grey hair ruffled atop the head that shook from side to side. "Not well. I wish I knew what she was so angry about."
Photonic lips stretched into an enigmatic half-smile. "I suspect, Captain, that she is as puzzled as you are."
He hastily wiped a tear from his cheek. "I don't know that she's puzzled," he assessed. "It seems sometimes that she isn't thinking at all; she's operating entirely on instinct, like a wounded animal."
The doctor nodded. "That would be consistent with the bioreadings I've been receiving."
"They're keeping you informed?" asked Chakotay incredulously.
Frowning slightly, the hologram paused before replying. "Not exactly. But since my program is linked with the Starfleet Medical database, I…"
The captain cut him off. "No need to explain. I'm glad you know."
All was silent for a few moments until the human spoke again. "I miss her."
"We all do," replied the doctor, his program idly accessing distant memories. He assumed the automatic process was the same one that had been initiated frequently lately, during which the equivalent of his subconscious attempted to make sense of the situation, try to find the trigger that shot his friend and colleague into the dark world of her delirium, seemingly never to return. It had occupied much of his random access memory of late, and, disturbingly, he found himself more and more frequently having to consciously override the processes in order to be able to perform his duties. As of yet, no obvious clues had been found, and he was beginning to suspect the cause of her condition was something of which he had never been aware. Frustrating, yes, but he was determined to solve this mystery, even if it was too late for her to heal. Just because he wasn't her primary physician any longer didn't mean he couldn't still be there for her as so many times she'd been there for him.
Not to mention his official patient, who seemed, more than anyone, to be suffering with an inability to accept her deterioration as a permanent condition. The hologram had long ago given up attempting to understand the relationship between these two; what he knew for certain was that they were dearer to each other than anyone else he'd ever known, and if there was one chance in a million that he could find a way to bring her back to the captain, he'd do it in a nanosecond. Whatever it took…even if it required ending his program permanently…
The doctor gazed sympathetically at his patient. "Just hang in there; we'll figure this out."
As the hologram walked away, Chakotay muttered to himself. "Yes, but before or after she ends up killing herself…or me?"