"I Think I'll Keep You"
Dana Katherine Scully:
Seven of Nine watched her husband speak to Captain Picard from the bedroom, her mind a blur of angry colours and paranoid thoughts. He's telling him I can't be trusted: that I'm just a drone. He wants to destroy me. But I won't let him. I have to have him.
She wanted to keep Chakotay: to keep him close, to keep him uncorrupted. She was vaguely conscious of the fact that love was no loner a part of the relationship, but her possessive nature quickly asserted itself and prevented her from contemplating the matter further. For his own part, Chakotay had been snappy and unpleasant to her for a long time, a complication that had driven her to lock him up like she did. The situation was out of control.
Seven got up and padded over to the bathroom, where she stared at her reflection for a good minute. Only then did she noticed the huge gash on her neck. It must have been from when she threw the glass vase at Chakotay. She vaguely recalled feeling a little pain in her neck, but she had no idea it was this bad.
"Seven, we need to talk," Chakotay called. What about?, she thought sarcastically.
"I agree. Where would you like to begin? With your constant betrayals or your false pretenses?"
Chakotay tried to restrain his temper. "Seven, I wish you would be more neutral until we can clear up these misunderstandings. And for that matter, Seven, what about your locking me in the house for a week? And your damned stoicism!" He was yelling now, screaming at her, trying to take his revenge on her ears. "You are one crazy woman Seven!" He feinted a punch at her, scaring her without harming her. "You can't even keep your damn paranoia under control!"
Seven was afraid of him: for the first time in their marriage, indeed the first time since she'd known him, she was terribly afraid. "Chakotay, please, you're scaring me," she whimpered.
"Let me ask you a question Seven," he fumed. "Did you ever love me?"
Seven's face went slack. "I...of course I did," she finally responded.
"But you don't now, do you?" he said, more calmly.
"I...of course I love you. You're my husband."
Chakotay shook his head. "I don't think so."
For the first time, Seven was struck dumb. She couldn't say a word. She wasn't angry, or upset, or annoyed, she was frozen. And sad. God was she sad. "Chakotay, please...don't," she said, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
He sat heavily down on the bed next to her, thoroughly spent. He put a tentative arm around her shoulder and her whole body stiffened. "I'm sorry darling," he said sadly. "I'm so sorry."
He pulled her gently into his arms, careful to avoid her neck. She resisted him for a moment, then gave in and cried. Her heart was breaking just as she was realizing she had one.
Dana Katherine Scully:
Seven of Nine watched her husband speak to Captain Picard from the bedroom, her mind a blur of angry colours and paranoid thoughts. He's telling him I can't be trusted: that I'm just a drone. He wants to destroy me. But I won't let him. I have to have him.
She wanted to keep Chakotay: to keep him close, to keep him uncorrupted. She was vaguely conscious of the fact that love was no loner a part of the relationship, but her possessive nature quickly asserted itself and prevented her from contemplating the matter further. For his own part, Chakotay had been snappy and unpleasant to her for a long time, a complication that had driven her to lock him up like she did. The situation was out of control.
Seven got up and padded over to the bathroom, where she stared at her reflection for a good minute. Only then did she noticed the huge gash on her neck. It must have been from when she threw the glass vase at Chakotay. She vaguely recalled feeling a little pain in her neck, but she had no idea it was this bad.
"Seven, we need to talk," Chakotay called. What about?, she thought sarcastically.
"I agree. Where would you like to begin? With your constant betrayals or your false pretenses?"
Chakotay tried to restrain his temper. "Seven, I wish you would be more neutral until we can clear up these misunderstandings. And for that matter, Seven, what about your locking me in the house for a week? And your damned stoicism!" He was yelling now, screaming at her, trying to take his revenge on her ears. "You are one crazy woman Seven!" He feinted a punch at her, scaring her without harming her. "You can't even keep your damn paranoia under control!"
Seven was afraid of him: for the first time in their marriage, indeed the first time since she'd known him, she was terribly afraid. "Chakotay, please, you're scaring me," she whimpered.
"Let me ask you a question Seven," he fumed. "Did you ever love me?"
Seven's face went slack. "I...of course I did," she finally responded.
"But you don't now, do you?" he said, more calmly.
"I...of course I love you. You're my husband."
Chakotay shook his head. "I don't think so."
For the first time, Seven was struck dumb. She couldn't say a word. She wasn't angry, or upset, or annoyed, she was frozen. And sad. God was she sad. "Chakotay, please...don't," she said, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
He sat heavily down on the bed next to her, thoroughly spent. He put a tentative arm around her shoulder and her whole body stiffened. "I'm sorry darling," he said sadly. "I'm so sorry."
He pulled her gently into his arms, careful to avoid her neck. She resisted him for a moment, then gave in and cried. Her heart was breaking just as she was realizing she had one.