The novel completed, Janeway sat back against the luxurious chair she'd parked herself on for the afternoon with a sense of satisfaction. She set her PADD down carefully and sipped the last of her drink, her first in the past few days, while she surveyed the beach.

She was oddly reminded of her younger days growing up in Indiana, humid summers and tall corn rows filling her mind. She'd gotten lost in their towering depths more than once. This climate was a bit different, but it certainly held the same sense of mystery and adventure.

Janeway's eyes wandered over to the hovercrafts docked on the shore, and she felt a brief surge of energy. She had done her resting, and it had done her good. It was time to get off her ass and go on an adventure.

Grinning, she jogged lightly into the sand. The Admiral was getting old, maybe, but she was still somewhat fit, especially for her age. Regardless, it felt liberating to run just for the hell of it.

Sunlight suddenly reflected off the water and nearly blinded her—she threw up a hand to ward off the attack and turned away momentarily, giving her eyes time to adjust.

The small, dark cottage down the beach caught Janeway's eyes as she did so, and she intuitively knew.

It had to be Seven's.

Memories of their conversation during the first night came floating back. Giving the hovercrafts another glance, she frowned, then quickly made up her mind to visit the blonde.

If nothing else, she should apologize for her behavior that first night. It wasn't her place to pry anymore; she was not Seven's captain, mentor, or superior in any way, for that matter. If Seven did not want to share the personal details of her life, it did not directly affect Janeway or her crew anymore, and she really shouldn't have been so insistent besides. It was none of her business.

It stung that perhaps they were not as close as they had once been, but that was a rather petty complaint. An apology was called for.

She began the walk down, reveling in the soft feeling of the sand once more and absently musing on what needed to be said. The words formed a vague outline in her head. As she approached the door to the cottage, she hesitated, took a breath, and rang the chime.

No answer. She rang again, then knocked forcefully.

Nothing.

"Seven! Seven, are you there?" she tried, raising her voice. She hoped that she hadn't made the trek for no reason, especially as she had been ready to admit a mistake (something that irritated her and was rare for anyone to witness). Peering around the side of the house, she noticed that the windows were open. It seemed very quiet, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Seven was somehow inside.

Not that she believed in psychic abilities, but a hunch was a hunch. And Janeway's hunches were seldom wrong.

Janeway turned the handle on the door, surprised to find it unlocked. This was highly uncharacteristic of Seven, who took meticulous care of her belongings and space.

The door moved easily aside without so much as a creak, so Janeway stepped inside. Her unfortunate eyes—they had to adjust once more, this time to the darkness of the interior instead of the blinding light on the water. As they did, she was able to note the relatively clean appearance of the furniture. It seemed almost unused.

This was all very interesting, and possibly alarming. It had been days since they had arrived; why did this place look like no one had ever been here?

The Admiral carefully moved further into the room, which was an open common area with a kitchen…the far wall featured a small window, out of which she could see the waves breaking. Various cooking instruments littered the counters in the kitchen, clearly dirty, and one chair was pushed out at an awkward angle. Had she left abruptly? Why the mess?

At least it looked as though she had actually been living here.

In the next room, the bedroom, she found what she was looking for—and yet, like the rest of the house, it was wholly unexpected.

Seven sat on the bed, her frame crumpled pitifully. But Janeway wasn't unsettled by her less-than-perfect posture.

Janeway was unsettled by the tears running down her cheeks.

What the hell?

"Seven…?"

She did not jump at her name, nor make any sign of recognition. She made no movement at all. Janeway shifted to the bed, taking a seat gingerly beside the younger woman. She placed an arm around her shoulders, hoping that physical contact would evoke a reaction.

When it didn't, the older woman spoke. "Seven, look at me."

She was frozen, little more than a statue.

The Admiral moved to crouch directly in front of Seven, hands on the other woman's thighs. Looking up into Seven's eyes was like looking into a blank void.

She felt vaguely desperate to get a response, unsure of what was happening to the blonde, or what Seven was going through. The other woman was shut down, unresponsive—she must be dealing with some intense internal issue, but Janeway was clueless as to what it was about.

"Please," she whispered, a tendril of fear creeping into her stomach. "Talk to me."

There was nothing for a moment, and Janeway hardened, ready to bring in the big guns and force a reaction, even if it was a violent one towards the Admiral herself.

Then the blonde shifted very slightly.

"Captain…" Her voice was rough, as if it hadn't been used for some time. Janeway ignored the rank change and silently willed Seven to continue.

"I must say this to someone." She swallowed with effort, eyes regaining focus. Janeway's brow furrowed as she waited out the suspense, hoping nothing terrible would come out but fearing it would.

Seven took a breath.

"I cannot stay married to Chakotay."

Janeway barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping. She immediately rose and enveloped the lithe woman in a tight hug as a fresh stream of tears fell.

"Seven…"

She could feel the woman in her arms holding back pent-up emotion, her body rigid. She used one hand to cradle Seven's head.

"This is what you couldn't tell me that first day," Janeway murmured knowingly, chin on the blonde's petite shoulder. You were running from this. That's why you're here. She winced slightly at the memory of the conversation. "I am so sorry. Please forgive me for prying. It wasn't my place."

Seven simply wrapped her arms around Janeway, returning the hug with as much force as it was given.