Title: Kes is Dead (Part 38)
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Author: Singing Violin
Rating: T
Spoilers: The Gift, Collective, Threshold.
Disclaimer: TPTB own them, but they didn't do what I wanted with them, so I'm borrowing them for a bit. I'll give them back when I'm done.
Feedback: Yes please.
Archiving: Anywhere.

Kathryn awoke to the soft sound of someone sniffling. It was only a few seconds before she identified the source of the utterance as Chakotay, whose head was on the cot at her side. Almost instinctively, her hand went up to stroke his hair.

He jerked then, sitting up in a sudden movement that left her fingers bereft of their soft perch. Then she was looking into his eyes, and the pain she saw there sickened her as she remembered what had just transpired.

She gulped, and was suddenly aware of the foul taste in her mouth.

"I threw up," she whispered, mostly as an observation to herself.

Momentarily, his eyes closed in pain. When they reopened, she saw him breathe deeply before he spoke. "It's okay," he reassured her tentatively as he laid a hand upon her arm. "It was a shock."

Shock, yes. Perhaps this was the reason why time seemed to be crawling forward at a snail's pace, why her thoughts were sluggish and her whole body seemed to shake even as she lay still upon the makeshift biobed.

She tried again to gather her senses, but all she could feel were waves of guilt, splashing against her, trying to uproot her last semblance of coherent thought.

"I lost the baby," she stated, her voice shaking, though there were no tears in her eyes.

He shook his head. "You haven't lost it. It's just in the other room. When you're ready, we'll go see it again."

She went on, almost as if she hadn't heard him. "I couldn't carry it to term. The simplest thing…"

Suddenly a dull angry fire rose within her, and before he could figure out what to say, she continued. "And now…they took it…because I wasn't fit." She seemed barely aware of his gentle touch, and wouldn't meet his eyes. He reached out his other hand to stroke her forehead, brushing hair away from her ear.

Oh god, is this what she thinks? That it's her fault? "No, Kathryn…'they' didn't take it…we saved it. Just using a little Borg technology, is all. It'll still be our child."

Her eyes darkened as finally she met his gaze. "It's a Borg," she said before looking away again, her voice holding the same tone of finality she used to use when informing him of a decision she'd made unilaterally, one of which he did not approve.

He sighed, his hand falling back to his side. "It's a human child with some Borg implants. It wouldn't have survived otherwise. I really don't know the details; I haven't had a chance to ask Seven about it, but I know this child will never be a Borg, and I'm prepared to love him or her no matter what…"

The dark cloud of anger did not disperse, and if anything, loomed larger as she seemed to slowly take in what he was saying before she interrupted him.

"First she took you, then my child…she's betrayed me, just like she said she would when I first took her in…"

Chakotay was shocked. "Who, Seven? She hasn't taken anything."

Kathryn looked back at him, finally, and the anger seemed to drain from her eyes as quickly as it had appeared, and was replaced with a profound sadness. "No, I suppose she hasn't…but maybe she should."

The tattooed man gulped, feeling for the first time in months a genuine panic amid a chilling thought that perhaps this time she'd been hurt beyond repair.

She rolled onto her side then, facing away from him, and hid her face in her hands, though he knew, somehow, that she wasn't crying.

He touched a hand to her shoulder, and she squirmed away slightly, sending the unmistakable message that she did not wish to be comforted. Chakotay's heart pounded in his chest.

"I'm going to get the Doctor," he stated, rising, not knowing what else to do. She didn't respond.

The Doctor was with Seven in the other room, taking readings of the maturation chamber, every so often making slight adjustments in the setup. He looked up briefly as Chakotay entered.

"How's she doing?" the hologram asked.

The human shook his head. "Not so well. I need to know more about this…device. So that I can explain to her that her child will be a perfectly normal human being once it's done gestating."

When the Doctor did not immediately reply, Chakotay's already-racing heart increased its pace. "It will, won't it?"

Seven looked up then. "If I may, Doctor," she requested, and the Doctor nodded.

"With more time for development, I do believe it will be possible to build a maturation chamber that will allow the fetus to retain fully human characteristics. However, as we had little time to perfect the chamber, as it was needed immediately, this child must needs retain limited Borg physiology in order to survive, much as Icheb or I do."

Chakotay felt as if he'd been physically struck, and he sagged against the wall. "So Kathryn was right…our child is a Borg," he confirmed uneasily.

The Doctor interjected. "Not precisely, Commander," he refuted.

"Explain," Chakotay ordered, falling into his command voice as easily as the Doctor had used his old title out of habit.

"First of all, Seven is correct that this maturation chamber is new technology and requires enhancement. It is designed to preserve as much of the original form as possible. Seven was developing it for herself; it seemed the only way we could have children."

Chakotay blinked. "We?" he asked, momentarily startled. "You and Seven are…?"

"Yes, we are." Chakotay stared at Seven, who neither denied nor confirmed this revelation, no doubt considering it 'irrelevant.'

The human shook his head before pressing on. "So the child will retain some Borg implants…and maybe they can be removed later?"

"That is a possibility," the Doctor confirmed. "However, if you might recall, the attempt at removing implants from the infant we rescued along with Icheb and the others was unsuccessful. The child did not survive."

Chakotay thought for a moment that he would be sick. "Are you telling me that there's a possibility our child will die when we remove it from the maturation chamber?"

Seven approached him then, putting a hand on his arm and looking directly at him in a very human gesture. "This child will survive," she stated firmly.

He blinked, not sure whether this was fact or wishful thinking, and not wanting to ask any further questions for fear he'd discover the latter.

At that moment, Paris entered the room, looked around, then, baffled, spoke. "She's not here, is she?"

"Who?" Chakotay asked, confused, "Kathryn? I left her on the cot."

Paris shook his head. "Well, she's not there anymore. And she left her comm badge. Any idea where she'd go?"

The tattooed man's heart, which had just calmed, reclaimed its rapidity, seeming to jump directly to warp speed.

A river was running between Kathryn's legs, and after a moment, she realized that the water was deep red…it was blood. As it rushed away from her, it roared with fury.

After a moment, she looked down to realize there were things floating in the river.

No, not things, she realized. Limbs. Human limbs.

Small human limbs.

She grabbed a hand as it floated by, then another. Soon she'd gathered an entire dismembered body in her arms, and looked down at her finding with despair.

Just then, the limbs, ghost-like, began to squirm. She felt herself shake with fear as the body parts slowly assembled themselves into the shape of a small girl, who jumped down from Kathryn's arms to stand in the river of blood.

She noticed the child was wearing distinctly Borg accessories.

And then the girl spoke, and the voice emanating from her mouth was familiar and out of place.

"Don't you recognize me?" she asked, and her voice dripped with seduction, even though it emanated from a child's mouth. "Don't you know your Queen?"

Kathryn couldn't speak, her voice silenced by fright. She shook her head at the child, who suddenly lost her balance, falling into the river.

As the girl was carried away by the current, she cried out again, this time in a child's voice. "Mommy! Help! You've killed me!"

Finally, Kathryn's own voice returned, and with it she screamed.

"I've found her," Tom said to Chakotay over the comm. "She's in the airlock."

"I'll be right there," said Chakotay, running. Spirits, she's trying to space herself.

As if he could read Chakotay's thoughts, Tom reassured him. "Hey…don't worry, Old Man," he said, "I think she's okay…she probably just wanted a bit of privacy. She seems to be asleep in there."

The 'Old Man' was only slightly relieved. "Don't go in until I arrive," he instructed. "Or unless…"

He didn't need to finish his thought. "I understand," Tom answered.

As Chakotay approached, they both heard a blood-curdling scream, and simultaneously moved to open the door.

They were at her side in an instant, the older man behind her, lifting her into a sitting position, the younger one facing her, scanning with a tricorder.

"She's dehydrated and agitated, but otherwise okay," Tom announced. "She could probably use some food too. Actually, I'm surprised the Doctor didn't stick an IV in her."

As she blinked, awakening to the sound of Tom's voice and the feel of Chakotay's arms on her shoulders, she felt profoundly and inexplicably angry.

She successfully resisted the urge to knock the tricorder out of Tom's hand, but instead wriggled out of Chakotay's grasp, turning to face her former first officer.

"Tom," she said, not looking at the man she was addressing, "please give us a minute."

Reluctantly, Tom rose and left the airlock, but stood just outside as the entrance closed. He took the moment to apprise the EMH of the situation.

"I can't raise that child," Kathryn announced quietly after Tom had left.

"Give it time," Chakotay pleaded with her. "You've got about six months to think about it." He didn't dare tell her what he'd learned.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. This is all so wrong."

He gave her a baffled look. "What do you mean?"

She made a sweeping motion with her hand. "Everything. That child. Its conception. Its…birth, or whatever you'd call it. And everything that happened in between."

Is she referring to my proposal? Chakotay took her hands in his. "It was conceived in love, Kathryn. And I'd like to think that over the last few months we've had a few happy moments."

She glared at him. "It wasn't love. It was anger. I was…crying." She sounded disgusted.

He swallowed harshly, realizing that he was going to have to address this issue he'd been avoiding since that night. "Gods, Kathryn, did I…do you feel like I took advantage of you?"

She gave a bitter laugh. "I was going to ask you the same thing. How dare I lure you with tears? Of course you were feeling sorry for me, and, God, Chakotay, I got you into something you weren't…we weren't ready for."

"I was ready," he refuted. "I've been ready for years."

Shaking her head, she denied it. "Don't sugar-coat it, Chakotay. We fucked, because I was angry and in tears, and you would have done anything to try to make it better. It wasn't love, it was guilt. All the signs afterwards…"

"What signs?" he interjected. "Whatever are you talking about?"

She sighed. "When you…proposed, I threw up. I should have known it was a bad omen."

"Bad omen, Kathryn?" He almost laughed. "I didn't think you believed in that stuff. Besides, it wasn't your fault. It was just morning sickness."

"Which I've had every day, all day, for the last two months! This morning…afternoon…whatever, when I woke up here, it was the first time I could remember I didn't feel nauseous. And then I threw up anyway."

She was crying now, finally, her tears shamelessly cascading down her face. He reached to wipe them away. "It was a tough pregnancy," he admitted, "but it's over now, and we're going to have a beautiful child…"

"How can you say that?" she asked angrily. "I am not going to have that child at all, because I was stupid enough to fall from a tree and kill it."

"It's not dead," he told her, trying to keep his voice calm even as his exasperation grew.

"It's dead to me," she stated.

He was worried beyond belief now. The Kathryn Janeway he knew would never abandon a child…Borg or no…especially not her own. Except that she did, once…or rather, we did it for her, leaving her offspring, conceived with Tom Paris, on that otherwise-uninhabited planet in the Delta Quadrant. Spirits, was I already helping to destroy her psyche, even then?

Before he could think of a reply, she spoke again. "I need some time," she told him. Her next words seemed to rip a hole through his heart. "Away from you."

He struggled valiantly not to cry. "If that's what you need," he answered, resigned. "But there's something I need to explain to you first."

She nodded her permission.

"Yesterday morning, when you awoke, and you thought I was an 8472 because I touched your mind…"

She waved a hand to stop him. "It's all right. I was practically delirious from a nightmare. I thought we went over that."

"No, Kathryn, it's not that simple. You see, I did touch your mind…it was an accident, but…"

"You what?!" she cried, feeling suddenly very vulnerable. She curled her knees to her chest and hugged them.

"Remember what I told you about your telepathic abilities?"

She nodded.

"Well, I have them too. You're better at receiving, and I'm better at sending. I was dreaming too. I think I accidentally sent you a thought, and you received it, but our minds were too undisciplined to understand what was happening, and with the stress of everything going on…"

She got up suddenly and began to pace, her arms hugging herself as if she were very cold.

"Please, say something," Chakotay begged.

After a moment, she stopped and turned to him. "I think it's time we pay a visit to Mr. Tuvok."