"Sweet dreams." (Seven & Mezoti)

(Author's Note: This story takes place sometime after the season 5 episode "Collective".)

/

"What does 'sweet dreams' signify?" asked Mezoti. "You say that to us every night."

"It means you should regenerate," said Seven.

Icheb, Azan and Rebi were already in their alcoves, eyes closed, the power cells humming and flickering green above their heads. The little girl was the only one still standing on the floor, looking from her alcove to Seven with a pale face and wide eyes.

"I know that," she said with a hint of impatience. "But why those words? Is it a human custom?"

Seven was tired and in no mood for a discussion, but there was something darker than curiosity in the child's eyes. Something was troubling her, and it clearly had to do with that phrase.

"Yes, it is," she said, in answer to Mezoti's question. "My parents used to say that when they sent me to bed, before … "

"Before you were assimilated?"

"Yes."

It was one of the few memories Seven had of her life as Annika Hansen. She remembered how her fears of the Borg had kept her awake even then, until her father had scooped her up onto his lap, or her mother had kissed her on the forehead. When they'd wished her sweet dreams, her little cabin on the Raven had felt like the safest place in the universe. It was this feeling she'd hoped to pass on to her students.

The irony of this was enough to give her a headache.

"Can humans dream whatever they want?"

"No."

"Norcadians can't either. Telling us what to dream is illogical."

Mezoti's small voice had gone flat in a way Seven recognized; it was the way she herself sounded when she was suffering and didn't know how to show it. Even her posture was the same: the way she held her hands tightly behind her back, her spine ramrod-straight, her eyes staring into the distance.

"It is a wish, not an order. Wishes do not need to be logical."

"Oh."

"Are you experiencing nightmares?"

Of course she was. Most likely they all were. Seven remembered her own deassimilation process and how it had felt like death, realizing that the same Collective whose order she relied upon so much was the same force that had destroyed her family. It was loneliness on a level she didn't wish on anyone, let alone these children.

"I dream about First and Sixth," said Mezoti. "He's angry that we're leaving him behind, and she's … " Her voice faltered. "She's choking in the maturation chamber and I can't get to her."

Seven closed her eyes for a moment to fight off the disorientation that descended in moments like this. It was like vertigo, like standing on a crumbling cliff without knowing when the transporter beam would take hold, like the wreck of the Raven falling to pieces around her. Did Janeway or Tuvok ever feel this helpless dealing with her? It was no use telling Mezoti they were only nightmares, because these events were true.

Captain, Commander, what can I possibly say to her? Mama, Papa, what should I do?

It was thoughts of all of them that inspired Seven to do what she did next. Sometimes words were insufficient, and action was required instead.

She went down on one knee, regardless of her tight biosuit, and gathered the little girl into her arms.

Mezoti froze at first, as if in surprise, but then threw her arms around Seven's waist and squeezed. Her whole body shook as she let out the tears she had been trying to suppress. She smelled like sweat and salt and a little like metal. Her hair was soft. Seven stroked it evenly, from the top of the child's head down her back, falling into a rhythm that calmed them both. She wondered which of them needed it most, then decided that question was irrelevant.

"Is this a human custom too?"

"Yes." Seven caught herself smiling. Trust Mezoti to be curious even now. "It is called a hug."

"We did this on my world too. I … I like it."

"Wipe your face." Seven picked up the box of tissues that sat on a nearby console and took out a handful. While Mezoti's eyes were hidden behind the white fabric, Seven took the opportunity to wipe her own face as well. "Do you … are you ready to regenerate now?"

Mezoti looked up at her alcove and squared her small shoulders. "Ready."

"Proceed."

Seven went over to her own alcove, activated it, and was just about to step in when she heard a tiny voice from across the room.

"Sweet dreams, Seven."

"Sweet dreams, Mezoti."

Wishes, as she had said, did not need to be logical … and so, as she closed her eyes and connected to her alcove, Seven wished with all her heart that their words would come true tonight.