A/n: I apologise for the total lack of updates, travelling, illness, writers' block, I've had it all this week! Thanks to NikkiB1973 for giving me plenty of great chapters to read, an update of 'Shining Star' and two chapters of her new P/T and C/7 fic, 'The Night Shift'. :)
Chakotay's broad hands, clenched around his knees until they were cramping, stiffly moved to cradle his face. His shoulders, normally the strong, defining line of his reasoned, controlled stance, had long since buckled under the sheer weight of the guilt he was feeling and could no longer keep his lowered head remotely steady even as he did nothing more than fixate blankly on the dull grey floor that made the glare from all the coldly metallic medical paraphernalia surrounding him all the more stark, torturing his strained eyes until they were bloodshot. In vain, his fingers, throbbing with a strange ache that seemed to originate in his chest and radiate outwards, moved to shield his eyes but when he tried to shut out the reality of Sickbay his mind's eye took over, presenting him with much more tormenting scenes. Not only the memory of his doomed revelation to Seven, although that, the juxtaposition of their passion then his unwilling destruction of it, was on constant reply, but also much further back, in the holo-programme that had started all this. Why hadn't he realised there was a deeper, more deadly problem than just psychology? He remembered now, vividly, those flashes of pain that had blazed across her face in moments of intimacy, why hadn't he questioned that? Surreal though the experience had been, he should have picked up on the physical pain, just as he had shared her happiness and been moved to alleviate her guilt and shame. Logically, he knew he could never have guessed, just from Seven deleting the programme, that the Borg had planted a time bomb inside her but now that it had almost killed her, for a second time if the Doctor was to be believed, he couldn't help punishing himself for failing to hear it ticking while he'd been so purposefully intent on her for his own, selfish, reasons.
A very different type of warning, a change in tempo in the steady chorus of otherwise undecipherable beeps and clicks echoing through the room from Seven's bedside, broke off his train of thought like a lash of a whip. He may have let himself slip back into the emotional labyrinth of his mind while he'd been helpless, but that didn't mean he'd been utterly ignoring the reality of the Doctor attending to Seven either, he'd been subconsciously following the regular beat of the many monitors as if it constituted a macabre piece of background music. To hear such a sudden change after more than three hours made panic revive him, sitting bolt upright in his chair to interrogate the Doctor.
The EMH had pre-empted him, his gaze already steadily on him even as his tricorder did a final, slow sweep over Seven. "It's alright." He said softly, although Chakotay saw that even as his lips turned up with relief he still appeared rather grim. "She's waking up."
Chakotay himself was surprised at the volume of his own relieved sigh, it boomed disconcertingly around the room as he forced himself up onto shaking legs. He took one long stride forward before freezing as he saw Seven in close focus again, guilt and uncertainty paralysing him. "Is she out of danger?" he croaked out, shame rearing its ugly head within him as he was overwhelmed with an urge to bolt without hearing the answer.
The Doctor's measured pause seemed dreadfully long to Chakotay, "I believe so." He answered finally, "Her cortical node has stabilised and is functioning within normal parameters, but I'll need to convince her to stay here for at least two days of rest and monitoring before I'll be certain that her health is safe."
Chakotay visibly gulped, his eyes moving heavenward for a split second in a grateful acknowledgement to the sprits and ancestors he'd thought he'd forsaken long ago but he'd still found himself pleading and bargaining with relentlessly over the past couple of hours. He was able to take the few remaining steps to stand beside Seven. She was on the very edge of waking, the tension of consciousness slowly returning to her limp frame. He could see her fine shoulder blades digging painfully into the unyielding surface of the biobed as her taut, papery eyelids fluttered feverishly, the golden gilt of her eyelashes brushing eerily against her chalky, drawn cheeks. Her lips, cracked and bloodless, parted in a weak groan and Chakotay winced. "She's still in pain?" he questioned as his hand moved to rest comfortingly on her exposed cybernetic arm. The metal no longer burned, but it was still unnaturally warm compared to the tepid skin underneath. However, he was reassured to be able to feel the strong rhythm of her pulse under his thumb where he was rubbing her wrist.
The Doctor sighed bitterly, "Her body is almost 20% cybernetics, which isn't exactly natural. She's always in pain at some level no doubt. This however, will test even her stoicism. I wouldn't be surprised if it takes a week or more for her headache to fade away completely."
Chakotay felt his heart squeeze as this harsh truth hit him and he had to swallow as he looked down at her. "Can…Can I stay?"
"That's ultimately Seven's decision." The Doctor reminded him. His face wasn't without understanding and empathy, his protective stance had softened since Chakotay had explained everything, but Chakotay knew and accepted the fact that the EMH would always be in Seven's corner, as he should be. "But I'm not going to throw you out either, just step back a little, I don't want her to be confronted with all this right away." Chakotay gave a nod of grateful agreement, he realised that crowding her immediately wouldn't help his case, but it was still with definite reluctance that he let her go and stepped back until he had almost returned to his chair. The Doctor gave him a wan smile of support as he picked up a hypospray and pressed it firmly to Seven's throat. He registered Chakotay's flinch and said reassuringly, "It's a mix of drugs to wake her up and to relieve her pain, don't worry." Chakotay began an apologetic murmur but soon the attention of both men was taken up by Seven starting to stir. The Doctor smiled at her warmly, gently squeezing the shoulder of her human arm, as he saw her distinctive blue eyes, vivid even then, appear from under her leaden lids. "Good evening Sleeping Beauty."
Seven stared up at him uncomprehendingly, but as she rubbed a vague hand over her damp brow Chakotay saw her flinch at the word 'beauty'. "Doctor…" She mumbled, her voice weak and slurred before she shook her head slightly and her voice steadied, "What happened?"
Chakotay felt an indecent hope, for a split second, that she'd forgotten the whole evening before his horrified conscience crushed it. "Well…" The Doctor began awkwardly, "Tom and B'Elanna found you collapsed in the hallway. You started to have a seizure and Lieutenant Paris beamed you straight to me." He halted, bending down further so that he was more level with her face, "Your emotional failsafe had been triggered again, I had to complete the process of removal much sooner than I'd have liked, but I think you're going to be fine."
A dazed frown settled over Seven's face, "The failsafe? But…" Her breath abruptly caught in her throat and the Doctor and Chakotay both grimaced out of her line of sight as they realised she must be remembering. Seven herself felt the shock of those few moments in Chakotay's quarters reassert itself viciously, crashing into her chest and leaving her breathless. Every time she did try to catch her breath all she could hear were ragged gasps which verged on broken half-sobs she couldn't quite let out. She shifted away from the Doctor in panic but unfortunately by doing so she glimpsed Chakotay far to her left, visibly stricken but silent. Stubbornly, she flipped back onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the hot pressure welling behind her eyes as she continued to sense the dark eyes which had hours ago so absorbed her now boring into her relentlessly. Finally, though it may have only been a few seconds later, she forced herself upright, keeping her gaze locked on the Doctor. "Since you've managed to repair me, can I leave?" she asked desperately.
Chakotay felt her name form pleadingly on his lips but it wouldn't come. He knew that if he'd been able to tell the Doctor part of the sorry story he should have been able to say all of it to her, but her reaction seemed to have killed his voice and then buried it. He could only be mute as he gazed at her, his vision blurring.
The Doctor placed his hands on her shuddering arms as he carefully pushed her back down onto the biobed. "I'm afraid not Seven." He replied with real remorse, he wasn't enjoying this anymore than Chakotay, "It was just too close a call this time, you're going to have to stay here to be monitored for at least two days if you want your body to regain its stability."
Seven's face began to crumple then in a way neither man had witnessed before, the finely shaped nails of her human hand digging into the edge of the biobed until they looked ready to break. "But…But…" She grasped frantically around for something redeeming and familiar, feeling as if she were drowning. "What about my work?" she finally managed to demand, "What will the Captain think? You cannot tell her…"
The Doctor exchanged a quick glance with Chakotay, swallowing slightly as he made a quick decision, giving Seven's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'll deal with that right now, alright?" he said tightly, addressing them both, before swiftly moving over to his console and dialling in a command. The Captain's face, strained with tiredness but otherwise attentive, appeared almost immediately.
"To what do I own the pleasure at 2330 hours Doctor?" she asked pointedly, although there was concern as well as mild irritation in her eyes as she read the hologram's serious expression.
"I need to let you know Captain, that Seven is on medical leave until I say otherwise."
Janeway's face paled, "What happened? I saw her just this afternoon and she seemed fine…"
"She must've been putting a brave face on it Captain." The Doctor replied grimly, "I performed a…minor operation on her cortical node this morning. It seemed to have gone fine but things deteriorated tonight. She's stable now but I'll need to monitor her in Sickbay for at least two days without exception."
"Understood Doctor." The Captain agreed instantly, "Is she up for visitors? If I know her, she's bound to get cabin fever down there, despite your company…"
The Doctor's mind froze for a moment. "Uhh…I'll let you know in the morning Captain, it's been a difficult night."
"Of course." The Captain answered with a weary smile, "I'll let you get back to your patient then Doctor."
"One more thing Captain." The Doctor added hastily as he saw that the conversation was drawing to a close. "I also had Commander Chakotay in tonight. He has…Tarkaelian flu, so I've also given him a couple of days of medical leave, at my discretion.
"Tarkaelian flu?" The Captain echoed, a doubtful crease forming between her fine brown brows, "I saw him at that same meeting him Seven and I saw no signs of flu, not even a sniffle…"
"It can come on very quickly." The Doctor explained, "Sometimes it can fell a human within an hour." He pushed down a flicker of guilt, Tarkaelian flu was particularly nasty, and Chakotay was so downbeat right now it wasn't entirely beyond the realms of possibility that he was ill. The Captain didn't need to know it was a sickness of the heart.
The Captain winced, "That doesn't sound good." She made a thoughtful pause, "Tell me Doctor, it is just a coincidence that the Commander and Seven of Nine are unwell at the same time isn't it? That they're sharing medical leave?"
The Doctor's hands clenched around the edges of the console, what did the Captain think was happening? That he was letting Chakotay and Seven use Sickbay as some kind of romantic rendezvous point of her sight? He bit back a sigh as he thought wryly how preferable that would be to the true situation, Seven had withdrawn back against the biobed, her face empty, and Chakotay hovered as if he could see a forcefield around her but was too afraid to try and test its strength. "It's the simplest kind of coincidence Captain." He answered smoothly, thinking as the Captain gave a satisfied and even slightly sheepish nod that he really wasn't given enough credit for his considerable acting skills.
"Goodnight then Doctor." The Captain said pleasantly, "Keep tabs on the crew, I don't think we want a Tarkaelian flu epidemic on our hands."
"Certainly not." The Doctor agreed firmly, "Goodnight Captain." As soon as her face had faded away completely from the screen, he walked up to his replicator and ordered a dose of pills, which he promptly pressed into a stunned Chakotay's hand, "Sleeping pills." He said, answering the unspoken question, "I think you'll need them tonight Commander, don't you?"
Chakotay responded with a heavy nod, his hand closing around the pills as his eyes moved cautiously over to Seven, who flinched but otherwise remained silent and unresponsive. Chastened and exhausted, he looked to the Doctor, "Thanks." He murmured hoarsely, shooting one last pleading glance Seven's way before retreating out of Sickbay.
The Doctor breathed a weighted sigh, not disguising his exasperation, as the doors shut behind the Commander. "You know Seven…" He began quietly as he returned to her bedside, "I don't believe he ever intended to hurt you, not really." He sighed again as he swept his tricorder over her, "You should at least allow him to talk to you, you owe your feelings for him that much."
Seven's eyes had closed, but now they snapped open as she pulled herself upright again. If he'd been expecting a response to his advice he was misguided. Dragging a limp hand across her face, able to feel the lingering gritty dampness of tears and the stickiness of ruined makeup, she said dully, "If you're not going to let me leave, can I at least wash my face?"
The Doctor's stance softened with fresh sympathy, "Yes, of course." He told her softly, moving towards the replicator once more, "I'll bring you a cloth and warm water." He watched ruefully as he fulfilled the request and she began an attempt to pull herself back together.
As if she could feel his eyes on her, Seven stopped, her face now as red as her eyes after an overly rigorous rubbing with the hot facecloth. "I have nothing to discuss with him Doctor." She forced out hoarsely, her frame now erect with proud defiance even as her eyes glistened, "I brought this embarrassing situation on myself by indulging in human weaknesses I have no right to desire." She was gritting her teeth so much the words left her without her lips moving, "I will not commit this grievous error again…"
The Doctor stared at her, his face white. "You know…" He muttered, almost to himself, "…that's definitely the cruellest thing the Borg did to you." Although she didn't react, didn't ask for any elaboration, he somehow knew that she needed to hear it. "Not the failsafe itself, but the ideology behind it. They've made you believe that it's inherently wrong, weak, to love another person when in reality nothing could be further from the truth."
He gasped as he saw that silent tears were now rolling unhindered down Seven's cheeks.
A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D