.

Kathryn woke up, lying once again in the comfortable bed, and once again not knowing how she got there. The last thing she remembered was feeling cold and the old man suggesting they go back inside. She hadn't wanted to. She'd been outside; she'd been able to see the stars. She'd felt… free.

It had been surreal. Feeling free and then thinking about that freedom as a foreign concept and then realizing how crazy it was to think of freedom as an unusual state. She scrubbed a hand over her face; her head was all messed up. And she still wasn't entirely convinced this wasn't all just some elaborate scheme.

But, at least, it was still dark outside. She felt lethargic, but if it was still dark she hadn't been asleep for too long. She hoped. The ache in her side told her it hadn't been long enough. Damn Camet to all the hells anyone believed in. He was, once again, the reason she was in pain. But he was dead. She'd killed him. She remembered that much clearly.

Everything after that was hazy, though, especially the part where she went from being a prisoner of the Cardassians to waking up in the home of an old man who appeared to be a Terran.

Dorvan V. That's where he had told her she was. It hadn't meant anything to her at the time and didn't mean anything to her now. She didn't need to know.

But that wasn't entirely true. She did need to know. She deserved to know. If she wasn't a prisoner, as the old man claimed, there was no reason she shouldn't know. And yet, the thought of asking made her heart race. The familiar warm flood of fear washed over her as she remembered her nighttime stroll. Her stomach tightened at the repercussions she would face for the way she had addressed him, the demands she had made. She'd just been so mad; she'd wanted them to deny her, to admit that this was all just an illusion.

But it hadn't happened that way. The old man had simply supported her and offered her his assistance. He'd called her "Akecheta." He'd seemed genuinely concerned for her well-being. He'd probably been the one to put her back in this bed. Maybe that was it; maybe he'd done something to her while she'd been unconscious. That would be par for the course.

But she'd killed Camet. There'd been fighting of some sort. She remembered that. She'd escaped from her cell. Had there been an attack on the prison? Who would've attacked it? Did this mean she was actually… free?

No. No, that wasn't likely. Not after eight years. She held up her arm and looked at the dark lines marking it. Eight fucking years… in hell.

And now what?

Now she was just free to go? She laughed darkly into the silence of the room. No way. No, she wouldn't believe that. She looked again at her marks. She couldn't believe that she was free. To believe that would be dangerous. Hope was dangerous. She'd given up on hope a long time ago.

So, then where did that leave her? Playing along? It's what she had done since Justin died. It's how she'd survived as long as she had. Granted they'd never given her a scenario quite like this one, but they would show their true colors eventually. She could wait them out.

After all, she was a prisoner; she had all the time in the world.

A week passed in much the same manner. She slept, ate, and made small forays to the bathroom, the kitchen, and occasionally outside. The old man was never far away. Sometimes she'd see him working outside as she propelled herself along the small hallway; they'd spent a few evenings with him telling stories and relaying news of the universe from the past eight years. He brought her trays of food twice a day and always asked how she was feeling. If the Cardassians were simply giving her days to recuperate, she'd officially gone longer than any other time.

And yet she was sleeping a lot, so much so that she wondered if he was putting something in the food to make her drowsy. But she couldn't seem to wrap her mind around a rationale for that. Kolopak assured her daily that she was not a prisoner; she was simply injured. If this was an elaborate hoax, a scheme to punish her for killing Camet, they could've healed her injury. They had the technology; just like they had the technology for holodecks and simulations. She needed to put an end to this deception once and for all, and she'd finally figured out a way to do it.

"I need to use your communication terminal."

She'd forced herself to join him at the kitchen table. Walking was finally getting easier. She could almost transverse the entire house without spiking a fever and giving herself the shakes. Almost.

Kolopak set a small plate of food in front of her. "I'm sorry. I don't have one."

"What do you mean you don't have one?" she asked, immediately suspicious.

He noticed her reaction and his smile faltered. "Our settlement eschews technology in our everyday life, and I've never found that I needed one in my home."

"But I have family back on Earth. They think I'm dead," she said. "I need to get word to them."

"There is a communication center in town-"

"Then let's go there!" she pushed herself up from the table, staggering against it as she grabbed for the back of her chair to remain upright.

"Sit down, Akecheta," he said, gently pushing her back down towards the chair. "The communication center is not going anywhere. It will still be there when you are well enough to travel."

"I'm fine," she gritted out, swiping angrily at the sweat that had broken out on her upper lip.

Kolopak chuckled. "You can barely make it from your bedroom to the kitchen. You are in no condition to travel two hours into town and back."

"You don't understand," she said, shaking her head. "I have to let them know. I need to talk to them. I haven't… eight years, Kolopak. Eight. Years."

"Yes, it's been eight years." He gently placed his hand over hers on the table. "One more week will not change anything."

She shook her head. "Tomorrow."

"No." He shook his head smiling faintly at her stubbornness. "You will need at least another week." He held up a hand to hold off her demand. "One of my neighbors will come by tomorrow to check on me. If you'd like, we can give him your family's names and send them a message."

She pulled away from him, leaning back from the table. "No."

Kolopak was clearly taken aback by her sharp reply and sudden withdrawal. "Akecheta?"

"I'm not giving you or anyone else the names of my family members," she stated coldly.

Understanding dawned in the old man's expression. "You still think I am in league with the Cardassians?"

She looked away from him, staring into the small kitchen in silence.

He sighed and stood, gathering his now cool mug to take into the kitchen. "When you can gain your feet without almost passing out, then we will know more."

Her eyes flicked to him and then quickly away. She placed a hand on the table and pushed herself halfway up before sinking back into the chair with a grimace.

His expression was sympathetic. "Eat something, Akecheta, it will help you regain your strength."

Her hand tightened into a fist on top of the table. "Just. Tell me the truth. Please."

"I have," he said simply. "You are free. The Cardassians can no longer hurt you. It is you who must choose to believe this."

"I don't believe you," she insisted quietly. "I won't believe you. Not until I talk to my family."

He pushed a bowl of oatmeal towards her. "Then you should eat, and then perhaps in a week, after you have talked to your family, we will finally be able to sit together as friends."

She wouldn't look at him, but she nodded and began to eat.

.