I Would Break for You

(CW: Memories of pregnancy loss)

There aren't words for what I experienced as the collective poured into my consciousness. I once told Lyndsay that being pulled into Riley's collective without consent was like drowning, and that was only a handful of voices. This was billions.

The sensations nearly broke my brain.

I opened my eyes in the middle of a river flowing at the speed of a bullet train. Icy water surged around me, brutal and bracing, roaring in my ears. I flailed, instinctively seeking the surface or the bed but finding neither. My lungs ached.

"Let me in," the current seemed to say.

I clamped my jaw shut and kept paddling.

"Resistance is futile."

My lungs spasmed. I grabbed my nose. Breathing meant drowning, and drowning meant assimilation.

Harry, where are you?

My chest felt like it was going to explode. My mind screamed. I wanted so badly to inhale, even if all I swallowed was water, just for some relief. My panicked mind insisted on reaching the surface before I passed out and drowned.

Except that's not what would happen—not unless I allowed it. This wasn't really a river. It was a mental construct. I didn't need to breathe because I wasn't in my body anymore.

What I needed was to get out of the water and find Harry and Annika.

I opened my eyes and searched for something to give me direction. Above me was light, below me dark. Water stretched out on all sides, less like a river and more like a lake. No rocks, no shore. As I realized this, the water seemed to stop moving. Somehow I knew that if I tried to swim to the surface, it would take off again, so instead I let myself simply float in the cold, amniotic nothingness.

Without a current, the roar died down to muffled, fluid static and my heartbeat in my ears. The sound was somehow both peaceful and haunting. I could sleep in this. Become one with it.

"Nine of twelve," came a whisper from somewhere in the lake. It swirled around me, calling to the marrow of my bones. "You have suffered from human weakness long enough. It is time to come home. Our thoughts are one."

I sank deeper, sliding through liquid.

Flagging in the gravity.

Descending to the dark.

"Join us…"

Everyone at the table fell silent, awaiting my news. I took a deep breath. "I'm changing majors. I want to be a counselor."

My words hung in the air for long, agonizing seconds as Marnah's scowl threatened to melt my eyes right out of my head. Deb coughed. Jay glanced between Marnah and me.

Dad sawed off another piece of chicken breast, seemingly oblivious to the sudden rise in tension. "Sounds like your time with Aradne really affected you."

"It did," I said, though it was more than that. It was being Tom's main support as he grappled with his demons. It was my friends telling me over and over that I was such a helpful person to talk to when they were distressed. It was puzzling out my own family's generational trauma. It was the way I found people and their behavior so much more fascinating than anything else I'd studied. Aunt Aradne simply gave me permission to go against Marnah's wish for me and choose my own path—along with some valuable insight from her own work as a therapist.

But that was a lot to try and explain over dinner.

I knew what I wanted. My mind was made up. Rehashing my newly-untangled thoughts and feelings on the matter in front of my entire family sounded supremely uncomfortable, and what would it accomplish?

No, I didn't need to explain myself to them. I would be a counselor, and that was that.

I looked Marnah straight on and lifted my chin, daring her to share her thoughts out loud.

She shook her head and went back to eating her dinner.

Despite all the confidence I'd worked up within myself before dinner, her reaction still made my heart sink into my gut.

"Nine of Twelve, leave behind these petty emotions…"

I lost count of how many nights I woke up screaming.

Chakotay was up immediately, raising the lights in his cabin so he could make sure I was okay and so I could plainly see that I was not at Korma outpost.

It was the same thing every time. A few moments of terror followed by the humiliating realization that I had once again woken Chakotay and likely half the ship for no reason. Then all emotion would vanish and leave me with nothing but a miserable mix of restlessness and exhaustion. This was my life now.

"You're on Valjean," Chakotay said, hands outstretched but not touching me. He'd learned that lesson the hard way weeks ago. I had nearly broken his nose. "You're safe. They can't hurt you anymore."

Except they absolutely could. We were regularly in or near Cardassian space. We'd had multiple run-ins with them in the month and a half since I was released from the hospital. It was only a matter of time before they got another chance at hurting me.

But it wouldn't help to bring that up. Chakotay said these things as much to comfort himself as he did for me. Besides, I didn't have the energy to endure my feelings for long. It was easier to just shut down instead.

"It's okay," I finally said, pressing myself into his arms as I burrowed into the blankets. "Let's go back to sleep."

He pulled me close, fingers tentatively stroking my back. "Are you sure?"

I nodded and faked a yawn. "I'm tired."

It was enough to convince him. He called off the lights, and within minutes his breathing deepened into the steady cadence of unconsciousness.

If only I could do that. My days of sleeping easy were long gone. Instead, I stared into the dark and embraced the numbness that settled over me. At least it was better than constantly living in fear.

"We can make you stronger…"

It was so quiet in Noss' ship at night.

Safely behind her forcefield, there was no need for anyone to keep watch. Noss had lived here alone for years without incident. In a way, it was a safer place to be than Voyager where any moment could bring innumerable fresh kinds of hell upon us.

The other people stranded on this planet had learned long ago that it was a waste of valuable time and energy to attack Noss' ship, so they left us in peace. Inside, no one made a sound other than Tom's low snoring in the quarters next door.

In the silence, I wrapped myself around Rojel—arms around my belly, legs curled up as tightly as they could bend—and cried.

It had been five days since we crashed here. I'd thought Voyager would have rescued us by now. Sure, the anomaly had been invisible to me, but Voyager had much better sensors and so many brilliant people to help get things done. What was the hold-up?

If they didn't come soon, I could lose Rojel.

"Please," I whispered into the darkness. "Please don't leave, cheli. They'll come for us and Kes will heal us up and Harry and I take good care of you. You'll be healthy and happy and have so much love. Just please… please don't go." I kept my sobs as quiet as I could. "I love you so much, ja'ahkaya. "

"You know how this ends, Nine of Twelve…"

When Tuvok and Noss returned from their hunt, Tom carried me outside to visit my son's grave. I don't know how long I stayed there or how loudly I wailed. All I know is that I sank my fingers as far down into the dirt as possible, pressed my forehead to the ground, and chanted until I couldn't carry the tune anymore.

My baby. My son. Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. All I had left of my sweet Harry and the dreams we had so lovingly crafted together. The blood of Bajor and Earth was going to rot in the soil of a desolate desert planet within a gravitational sinkhole on the opposite side of the galaxy from the lands we called home.

Wrong. It was wrong. It was all wrong. Nothing—not even a miraculous rescue by Voyager—could ever make it right again. I may as well have buried myself there in the ground with my only son.

The feel and smell of dirt clung to my fingertips even after Tom had washed it away.

"We can free you of this pain…"

Free of a pain that felt as close today as it did back then. So much pain that I'd never shake no matter how much time passed or therapy I went through. Nothing could change what happened.

It was tempting to open my mouth and let the collective fill me with so many other things that I'd never have to feel the pain of life ever again. No more guilt that I couldn't live up to Marnah's dream for me. No more nightmares of Korma outpost. No more Rojel.

My gut seized.

Lose the memory of Rojel?

No.

My eyes flew open.

Forget him? No no no. I might as well have killed Rojel myself if that was the choice I intended to make.

I started clawing at the black water, straining for the surface. This temptation was too much. I had to get out before it filled me completely, but I couldn't tell which direction was up.

Harry, where are you? Tuvok, Kes… anyone… please give me strength.

The water started to move again, forcing me forward and twisting my sense of direction even more. I'd let myself get too deep, too lost in the pain and the longing to be rid of it. There was no way out. Eventually the water would find its way inside me and I'd be lost.

And all my memories would go with me.

"Let go, Nine of Twelve. Resistance is—"

"Talia!"

Before I had a chance to turn, Harry wrapped an arm around my ribs, pulling me against his warm, broad chest. "I'm here, ja'lat," he said in my mind. "Let's get out of here."

Together, Harry and I surged upward. With our combined strength, we could fight our way through the current. Soon, the water went from black to blue and I could see the light above the surface. Just as we were about to break through, something yanked us up and hauled us both onto a massive metal deck.

I took a gasping breath—the first in what seemed like forever. Beside me, Harry coughed and sputtered.

"I was concerned that you were lost," Annika said, standing up and wiping her hands on her pants.

I looked up, meeting her worried look with a slight smile. "I'm glad you found us."

"As am I."

"Seven of Nine," came a voice that made everything inside me shrivel. My eyes snapped forward as the darkness before us lit up with an eerie green glow, revealing Loran in all her Borg-enhanced horror standing in a silver alcove. She smiled that evil, predatory smile, sending shivers down my spine. "Welcome home."