PLEASE READ THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE!I

{I re-edited this chapter because I write all of this on a Kindle and the spell check is terrible. Heheh, if it spells out a word in the English dictionary, it doesn't matter what the words is, it's good. So, freshly edited (by my own eyes, mind you. I have yet to find someone else to edit/review my work) for your (and my) happiness. I also changed the time period because I realized I was ahead of myself. So, if you missed the new summary, it's set in season 3, episode 2. Sorry guys. I'm already working on chapter two now, so expect it soon!}

Hello, my fellow fanfictioners! I am the Nerdess! This story follows Ensign Valencia Davis on her journey of fluffy romance, self-help, and growth during Voyager's stay in the Delta Quadrant. Trigger warning: Valencia suffers from clinical depression. Clinical depression is a very real disorder that can cause very real problems. These problems can be both mental and physical, including (but not limited to) anxiety, guilt, hopelessness, loss of interest or pleasure in activities, early awakening, excess sleepiness, insomnia, or restless sleep, excessive hunger, loss of appetite, social isolation, lack of concentration, thoughts of suicide, weight gain or weight loss. This list is not meant to scare you, but rather, to make you aware. I am not trying to make fun of anyone who shares Valencia's plight. Since I have personally never been diagnosed with this disorder and being a generally happy person, I do not have any first-hand experience whatsoever (aside from a small bought as a child-young teen going through my parents' messy divorce). So, being the young, budding scientist I am, whenever I come to a place where I don't have enough info, I do some research. Everything in this story related to the science behind depression WAS DONE THROUGH ONLINE RESEARCH. If I made a mistake, PLEASE TELL ME! I am not here to make anyone with this serious disorder feel offended, so if I do, I am so extremely sorry. I want to make this as accurate as possible, both for the general awareness that it will bring to this serious disorder and for the betterment of this story in general. I will take any and all criticism on this topic with a smile because I don't want to downplay the severity of this disorder which affects many in our world today. Please don't forget to R&R, and I will try to respond to any and all questions/suggestions as soon as possible. I love you all! Smile, because I love when you do! :)

Ensign Valencia Davis hated the Delta Quadrant. She hated everything about it. Not only had it brought her here against her will, forced her to fight in violent, unprovoked battles with random alien species, and ostracized her from everyone she once knew and loved, it changed her. It hardened her. It made her close herself off from the rest of the galaxy, much like Crewman Harren down on deck 15. She felt alone, even among her own crewmates. After duty shifts, Valencia often found herself on her bed with a cup of tea and a PADD, hiding even from her own roommate, just so she wouldn't get attached to anyone to avoid the pain that would inevitably come with it. On those rare occasions mywhen her roommate actually was able to drag Valencia out of her room, her lack of contribution to any part of a conversation led others to eventually ignore her, allowing her to sit on the edges of the mess hall and attempt to drown herself in work, looking on wistfully at the many close friendships blossoming around her, but refusing to allow herself the pleasure. Those days, much like tonight, she would sink into her bed, attempting to block out the pain and utter loneliness she felt, like an escape pod in the Void whose thrusters had burnt out, half wishing she was Vulcan so she wouldn't feel this way. Or any way for that matter.

Ahhh, to be emotionless. Such an ignorant bliss, she thought to herself. Then again, if one is emotionless, they wouldn't feel the bliss that would come from being emotionless. Ha, listen to me, she thought wryly. Alone in my bedroom, wishing I was Vulcan because I'm too scared to make a friend, only to lose them again. I mean, that may not even happen. I'm just a coward... Uncomfortable with her new train of thought, Valencia rolled over on her bed once again and contemplated getting up. She thought about her roommate in the main room. All she had to do was walk through the doorless hole in the wall and Valencia would be able to escape this loneliness. She was about to throw her leg over the edge of the bed, but something deep in the back of her mind stopped her from doing so. Some old fear of being rejected kept her in her place. It told her that her roommate, Brande, only brought her along tonight out of guilt, maybe obligation, that she didn't really like Valencia. She rolled over, thinking she would never find an escape, and lay in the deafening silence of her dark room.

Hours passed, yet Valencia merely floundered about between consciousness and slumber. She rolled into her back. "Computer, what time is it?" she asked quietly. "The time is 1234 hours," it responded. Valencia sighed and crossed her arms over her face, exhausted. Maybe I should go see the Doctor in the morning before my duty shift...

Valencia rolled out of bed at 1445, still exhausted from her emotional turmoil the previous night. Sluggishly, she slumped to her bathroom, quite ready for a nice sonic shower. As the low, gentle vibrations knocked the dirt and grime from her body, Valencia remembered her promise to herself that she would go see the Doctor when she woke up. Hurrying so she would have enough time to drop by before her duty shift, she climbed out of the shower and into her uniform, noticing, for perhaps the first time, how the science officer's blue really set off her red hair. She grabbed her hairbrush from beside the sink and tried to make her wild curls listen to reason, but she finally gave up and pulled them back into her banana clip. Letting her curls flop about, she brushed her teeth and left the bathroom. On her way out, she grabbed her combadge off the dresser and glanced at the photo next to it. It was a shot of her graduation from the academy. Her mother had just barely made it there because she got stuck in traffic on the way with her brother and stepfather. Her twin brother, Shay, had been so proud of her that day, he wouldn't talk about anything else. When she got assigned as a xenobiologist on Voyager, they had even thrown a going away party for her. That night, Shay told her how much he was going to miss her, but she had just brushed it off, telling him they were just going to pick up Tuvok, trap the Maquis, and be right back.

"You don't understand, Val. I know we're twins and all, but I still feel like an older brother to you," he explained. "You're going off into the great unknown, you could get killed, and I can't do anything about it. I can't be there to protect you..." "Why do you assume I'll need protection?!" she yelled. "I'm a woman now, Shay, not some naïve little girl! I knew what the risks were-" "But did you bother to think how they would affect us?!" he countered. Valencia had glared, actually glared at her brother. "It's my life, Shay. Don't tell me what to do with it," she growled. His hurt expression had stung her a little bit, but she was so mad at the time that she hasn't cared. A few days into their mission, she decided that when they got back, she would apologize to him in person, but almost 5 years later, she hasn't had the chance...

With a huff, Valencia walked out of her room, eager to forget her flashback. She left her shared quarters, not even bothering to check if Brande was in the common area. Making her way to the mess hall on deck two, she wondered about how she was going to conduct her inquiry in Sickbay. She hadn't the slightest idea of what was wrong with her, so Valencia guessed she should just answer the Doctor's questions, right? Exiting the turbolift, Valencia avoided making eye contact with anyone on her way to the mess hall, lest they try to strike up a conversation. Upon entering, she noticed immediately that the hour before the beginning of Gamma shift was the prime time for breakfast for Gamma-shifters. She crossed the room to the replicator and ordered herself some 'breakfast', if you could even call it that, seeing as the readout on the replicator showed the time to now be 1532, allowing her about 5 minutes to eat. "Computer, Valencia Gamma-2 please." With a beep and a whirring hum, a steaming cup of Irish Breakfast Tea, which she knew already contained sugar and milk in it, materialized in the little alcove next to a small plate with an omelet and two prices of toast. Valencia knew she was practically throwing away her replicator rations, but she was in a rush and didn't want to risk being hungry later by eating - and not finishing - whatever Neelix had made for them. Carrying her food over to the small table in the corner by the window, she quietly ate her food. It was still pretty early until the end of Alpha shift, but she saw a few Alpha-shifters enter the mess hall, probably because they had finished all their work early and there weren't any current threats that she knew of. While she people-watched, she noticed a few crewmembers for the first time. A younger Betazoid woman Playing 3D chess, some Asian guy. Then, she saw the doors to the mess hall open once again and in walked a young Vulcan she had not noticed before.

Oh look, she thought dryly. It's my spirit animal. Or is that wannabe spirit animal?

Glancing up from the PADD he was reading, he got a cup of something from Neelix. He made his way to a nearby table and sat, still reading his PADD and taking the occasional sip from his steaming mug. He is rather handsome... Wait, what am I doing! She looked quickly at the readout on the replicator. 1539. Crap! Valencia wolfed down the rest of the omelet and downed the rest of her tea. Grabbing the last slice of toast, she carried the plate and put it back in the replicator for recycling, snarfing the toast as she went. She raced out the doors and down the hall to the turbolift, grateful that the biolab was on the same deck as Sickbay. Reaching the turbolift, Valencia ran in. "Deck five," she said hurriedly. The turbolift hummed with life and she felt her stomach sink slightly with the movement. Then, then doors opened and she was off again, hurrying through the corridors to Sickbay.

When she arrived, the doors slid open to greet her. Valencia stepped past the threshold of Sickbay, allowing the doors to close behind her with a whish. Then, the Doctor walked through and saw her by the doors. "Is there something I can do for you, Ensign?" he asked, seeming somewhat agitated. "Umm, well-"

The Doctor's face changed from his usual not-totally-happy look to an annoyed one in a fraction of a second. "I'll have to ask you not to waste my time. I have a patient in critical care at the moment, and need to tend to her as quickly as possible. Do you need my help or not?" he interrupted. Valencia glanced behind him, seeing a mess of stuff going on in the surgical bay and stood a little straighter.

"Yes, I've been having trouble sleeping for a few nights now. At first, I thought it was just stress from work, but now I'm not so sure, but if you're too busy right now I can just-" "Nonsense," he interrupted - again. The Doctor quickly grabbed a medical tricorder from a nearby cart and called her a little deeper into Sickbay, out of the way of anyone who might try to get in.

"Hold still," he said, scanning her body while carefully circling her. The Doctor's eyebrows knit together and he pursed his lips.

"Your serotonin levels are very low..." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, concern and skepticism written all over his face. "Ensign," he began, closing the tricorder and turning to look at her her with a now very serious expression. "Have you had any recent thoughts of suicide?" Valencia's eyes grew wide with shock. "Suicide?" she repeated. "No way! I would never do that!"

"Alright, what about feelings of worthlessness? Hopelessness?" he asked, his face darkening. Valencia felt her own face sinking, realizing he knew what was causing her insomnia. "Have you had any recent fights with anyone? A close friend perhaps?" Valencia remembered once again the fight with her brother the night before she boarded Voyager and the guilt that came with it. "I don't have any friends," she said quietly, looking away from the Doctor's face. "Not anymore." The Doctor's face softened. Quietly, he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "How long has this been going on?" he asked. Valencia thought for a moment. "Maybe a few months... After we entered the Delta Quadrant..."

"Would you like to talk about it?" Valencia met his eyes through her own lashes, giving a dry smile. "Heh, not particularly." He looked at her with compassion. "Well, if you ever decide to, you know where to find me." She nodded.

Then, it was back to all-business. "I'm diagnosing you with clinical depression," he stated, reaching around to ready a hypospray. "I'm going to prescribe a daily injection of escitalopram," he said, turning to face her and showing her the hypospray. She nodded stiffly, signaling that she was okay with accepting his treatment. He injected her and continued talking. "This daily injection should restore your normal serotonin levels. We'll try this out for a week and see how it goes. Please see me again tomorrow, and do tell me if you start to feel any negative - or positive - effects." He smiled weakly. "I am your doctor, after all." Valencia gave a small smile, mostly out of politeness, as thanks for his help.

"I will," she promised. She glanced at a screen next to the door on her way out. 1557. I still have a few minutes. "Thank you, Doctor," she called as she exited Sickbay. Let's hope I'm not late...