Mollie Shannon Amelia

a fanfiction by trekkerpoet29.

I do not own these characters, nor am I making any money off of this story, but this interpretation of luftangrepp's call for fiction is all mine, and it is copyright. It is also un-beta'd, so any and all mistakes are my own.

For luftangrepp, who wrote "again, someone please write that fic that I need where Janeway adopts this baby and calls her Mollie." I hope that you like it.

She is tiny in the incubator, wrapped in a thick purple blanket. I didn't think she could possibly survive. She would not be the first baby to breathe her last in that incubator, either.

I do not want to think about Naomi, but it is impossible. We are so far from Vidiian space that my mind cannot help but remember the other Voyager, the one on which Naomi survived and Harry was not sucked out into an icy death in space. Their ship, undamaged, should have been the one that survived. Naomi did not die in their incubator, but the other Janeway destroyed the other Voyager—her Voyager—as I would have done, when the Vidiians boarded her ship and not mine. She gave us her Harry and her Naomi. And it was almost as if they had never died. Almost.

But then, we found the children. Seven of Nine left this little bundle on a bio-bed, knowing that she would die if she remained on the Cube, and that she may die aboard Voyager.

The Doctor handed her to me, and as soon as she was in my arms, she took hold of my heart. This tiny baby, heavier than her size would lead you to expect because of her unfinished Borg implants. If she survived, I could raise her as my daughter. She would be an unnamed orphan in the eyes of The Federation, and the Doctor would draw up the necessary paperwork… I would name her Shannon, no, Mollie. Mollie Shannon Amelia Janeway. But, I tried to prepare myself for the likely outcome. She may die. She may be too dependent on her unfinished Borg implants for her premature organs to adapt to life outside the Collective. Her underdeveloped implants may be too cumbersome for her premature organs to reject. The rejection alone could kill her, let alone her prematurity, let alone the shock of being severed from the Collective so recently after her separation from her mother.

But here she was. Small, Borg, and a perfect little person. I decided then that I had spent so long living on contingencies: when we get home, I will; when we get home, we can; when we get home. I would not wait to see what would happen.

"Doctor." I said. He looked at me, probably assuming that Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager could not be bothered to hold a Borg infant. "Doctor, I want you to draw up a birth certificate for her. And adoption papers." He began to say something, but I silenced him. "I will not allow her to die a nameless, abandoned casualty of the Borg."

"Very well, what did you have in mind? Shall I write that Voyager is her mother?"

"No, Doctor." I rolled my eyes, careful to keep my voice down so as not to wake her. "I am." He was stunned silent, and he picked up a PADD.

"What would you like to name her, Captain?"

"Mollie Shannon Amelia Janeway."

"A lovely name. Mollie from the Latin meaning 'star of the sea.'"

Shannon, after my ancestor, and Amelia after Amelia Earhart, whom we met, here in the 24th Century in the Delta Quadrant, of al places."

"Captain, I cannot say whether or not Mollie will survive,"
"I know."

"But—and I hope I am not overstepping my bounds—I want to be certain that if she does, that you will be prepared to parent her for the rest of your, or her, natural lifetime."

"I am, Doctor. How soon can you have the documents drawn?"

"If you will feed her, I'll have it done immediately."

"Of course. We need to bond, after all."

"Yes, Captain."

We sat on a bio-bed, and I fed her, burped her, sang to her, and held her. I enjoyed being close to her in a way that I had not enjoyed being close to anyone in quite a long time.

"I'm going to be… Hi, little one, I'm your mom. I'm going to take care of you, Mollie. I love you very much."

When Naomi was born, I'd made her a blanket. I would make one for Mollie, too, I knew, though I hoped it would indeed be a baby blanket and not a burial shroud. The Doctor walked in with a PADD that I put my thumb to as a signature. And then I was a mother. Her mother. Mollie's mother. Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager, daughter of Admiral Edward and Mrs. Gretchen Janeway, sister of Phoebe, and mother of Mollie.

"When can I take her home, Doctor?"

"As soon as she stabilizes, Captain, but I don't see why we couldn't make the lab a more comfortable place for you to stay. You should each get used to being together, and she should get used to the sound of your voice, your touch, the smell of your perfume…"

"Thank you, Doctor. I'm sure we'll do well. I want her to come home as soon as possible."

"I'll do my best, Captain, but it's up to Mollie."

~TBC~