A/n: Thank you to my beta, NikkiB1973. :)

I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.

"Deck 8." Damn it, his voice sounded terrible, hoarse and shaky. Hungover almost. Or maybe more like the time he'd snuck a puff of his uncle's tobacco stash and inhaled too sharply. Weepy eyes, a mouth and throat that felt like sandpaper and tasted worse; yep, it was pretty much the same. He could still remember his mother tearing a strip out of her brother-in-law for that, especially when he tried to protest that tobacco did have a spiritual element to it. 'Not your kind of tobacco!' She'd shot back, startling both her son and his uncle, then turning her wrath on her husband when he had the temerity to laugh under his breath… Chakotay tried to laugh now, to focus on the memory of his slight, usually quiet, mother ruthlessly getting her menfolk back in line, but it wouldn't come. Only a puff of air, the start of a stifled sigh or the end of a silent groan, escaped his lips to graze his rough palm as he ran it over his face once more. That hand had begun to shake before it even drew away.

Experimentally, though with frustration forming a familiar tight band around his chest, he clenched and unclenched, but the hand, fist or not, continued to quiver with nervous energy. He held both of his hands in front of him, willing them to be still, to be calm, but instead his breath grew more rapid with the effort. God damn it! One breath in, one breath out, one breath… The tactile memory of holding Seven's quaking body as he repeated similar instructions around slammed into his mind, and his body actually recoiled, taking a single stumbling step back until his back clattered against the wall of the turbolift. Eyes he hadn't realised he'd squeezed shut flew back open but the bleep of his comm. badge cut through even the roar of his own heavy breathing.

"Bridge to Chakotay." Harry Kim's sprightly voice felt alien to Chakotay in that moment, surreally unfettered by the emotional weight that burdened his First Officer.

He was disconcerted enough that when he practically slapped his comm. badge, its pin forced back into the fabric of his uniform until the skin underneath felt a sharp nip. "What is it Harry?"

"Everything's fine here Commander…" Harry's bright tone suddenly dimmed with his old green diffidence, "…it's just that you're a half hour late for your shift…"

"Shit!" Chakotay vented unthinkingly then clamped his jaw down, further agitated by his second slip in as many hours; had it really been just two hours since he'd found Seven… He prided himself on self-control, absolute professionalism, though he rarely bothered to reprimand anyone else for swearing, even while Starfleet advised that vulgar language be curtailed, in an effort to avoid offence and confusion over the Universal Translator. He knew many considered him prim, old school, but he couldn't curtail this self-consciousness of even mild outbursts. Throughout his career as a Starfleet officer he had been hyper aware of what he perceived to be the popular image of colonists; perhaps still of Native Americans. Rough, contrary, volatile; conscripts for the Cardassian War as much as they'd been for wars on Earth itself for centuries. Not officers, leaders, but followers, fodder. He had to be unimpeachable… He saw the irony in this of course, since he'd cast it all off to join the Maquis, to reclaim his colonial and warrior identity, but old habits, protective guises, died hard. After Seska had played on his impulses like…like a maestro, he'd reined them in even more. And yet it had fallen to him to talk to Seven about the dangers of doing just that, he'd been witnessing the consequences… "Sorry Harry, I just…"

"No, no, don't worry about it!" Harry replied too eagerly down the comm. line, obviously backtracking. "Like I said, everything is really fine up here. I just thought I'd check in, you might've been swallowed by an entity or something after all, this is Voyager…" He chuckled weakly, and Chakotay managed a grimacing smile to himself as he recalled when he and Tuvok had fallen prey to 'Grendel' on the holodeck, trying, and failing spectacularly, to save Harry.

"I'm the one who disciplines the crew if they're late Harry." Chakotay reminded him wearily, "I'll be right there." He disconnected the comm. line before the younger man could reply and barked an order to the turbolift just as it reached Deck 8. "Bridge!" A surge of guilty relief flooded him as the turbolift obediently continued up through the decks, putting off his obligation in Astrometrics. He'd promised her, the kids could be in danger right now, but he still couldn't stop himself from shrinking back from the possible confirmation of that threat.

Harry, along with everyone else on the Bridge, Tuvok being the usual exception, glanced around as Chakotay came onto the Bridge. Immediately, he regretted that he'd allowed the others to egg him into contacting the First Officer, calling him out on his lateness, trying to satisfy the curiosity that had been burning through the Bridge like a wildfire. Chakotay looked terrible, pale and dazed, as if someone had just punched him repeatedly in the gut. Since he was an amateur boxer, he might well have, but just like the Captain, who avoided the ring on principle, his face was drawn, eyes haunted but guarded. If anything, he looked worse than the Captain, who'd blown onto her Bridge like a whirling dervish. After huskily telling Tuvok he had the Bridge, she'd disappeared into her Ready Room.

Chakotay's hand lifted to run over his face, but he caught himself as he felt eyes on him and pinned back to his side. "Status report?"

Tuvok finally acknowledged him, though he'd been observing everything. "All systems functioning within normal parameters. Pursuing our course to the Alpha Quadrant at Warp 7.8…"

"Commander?" Janeway suddenly appeared at the threshold of her Ready Room. She gave Tuvok an apologetic look but turned back into her Ready Room without another word. Chakotay obeyed her cue and followed her in.

Janeway made her way back to her desk and sank behind it, gazing with woeful expectation up at Chakotay as he stood awkwardly, shoulders slumped. Despite his beaten down stance, he knew their pattern well enough to start the conversation. "How are your…plans going?"

Janeway glanced down at the PADDs littering her usually tidy desk, mirroring her disordered thoughts. "I intend to make this counselling possible for all of us at least, but…" Her tense shoulders shrugged sharply, "…how I'm going to coordinate it with the little time we have with the MIDAS array I've not figured out yet." She grimaced, "And who among us will want to train as a counsellor when we're all going through this?" Looking at him, she was again struck with fresh appreciation of unofficial counselling role he'd taken on from the start, the toll it must've taken on him, the weight off her own shoulders… "You had a point Chakotay, but I'm not willing to give up on this." Or Seven was left unsaid, but Chakotay heard it loud and clear.

"Nor should we." Chakotay answered; tellingly, without missing a beat, even as the eyes that met hers were dark and unreadable.

"Yes." Janeway whispered thickly, then quickly squared her shoulders, asking more crisply, "You stayed in Sickbay?"

"Until the Doctor and Tom…started on the surgery." Chakotay confirmed stiltedly, running a half-clenched hand through his hair as he gave a dry gulp.

The Captain immediately gave him a thoroughly compassionate, and guilty, look. She'd hadn't even thought of the necessity of letting the Doctor's reluctant assistant into this horrible loop. "I should've stayed…" She sucked in a breath, "Tom would be asking the same questions that we had." She gazed at her First Officer tremulously as she rose from her desk, "Did you…"

"Actually, Tom got down to business almost immediately." Chakotay interrupted, not without admiration. "Didn't ask any more questions than what he could do for Seven now, and afterwards." He shook his head, smiling wanly, "It seems you were right to make him a medical assistant back then, despite his protests." Kathryn mirrored the smile, briefly, but wasn't in the mood for dwelling pleasantly, as admittedly she sometimes did, on the fact that she'd been proven right on Tom's potential. Chakotay sighed, his brows creasing in an inward glare of frustration, "No, I didn't stay there out of nobility, to help the Doctor or explain things to Tom, to make sure Seven wasn't alone…" His voice broke bitterly, "I was psyching myself up to contact the kids, which is the only thing I can try to do, but…" He shook his head roughly, and for a moment Kathryn was reminded of the bear she'd once been so convinced, in vain, was Chakotay's 'spirit guide'. He made a sharp turn back towards the door, in apparent decision. "I'll go and start on it now. If they do have this failsafe…" He spat out the word in horrified contempt, "…then I don't have a minute to lose…"

"Wait Chakotay, just wait!" Janeway ordered sharply, hands raised to grasp at him even as they were still several strides apart, the gap widening as he seemed determined to leave. She exhaled as he halted, though he held his body so taut that she knew he was only obeying her through habit, rather than really hearing her. "Don't be rash." She chided softly, "You're taking too much of this on yourself." His head turned back slightly to shoot her a sidelong glance, but she held her ground, though just as aware as he was that he could had basically given her the same, stronger, advice when they'd both been in Sickbay. She sighed, her hands propping on her hips as he slowly moved to face her again. "The Doctor was…relatively sure the children wouldn't be affected." His jaw tightened and she felt her own heart twist as she thought of Mezoti and the twins. Nothing but absolute certainty would be enough. "What I'm saying is, what's happened to Seven has been a shock, but we need to think rationally, you impressed that on me." She watched him expectantly, "Have you thought through what to tell Icheb, let alone the other kids?"

Chakotay, generally the one more aware of any ironies between them, under most circumstances would've been left darkly amused or irritated by this role reversal, but right then he recognised none of that and was only blankly incredulous. "Tell Icheb?" he echoed dumbly, recoiling from the saddened resignation in her eyes. He bristled with stricken exasperation, "She begged us not to tell him!" he reminded her accusingly, "And there's damned good reason for that, you heard the Doctor's explanation for how…"

"Yes, I remember it all!" Janeway cut him off sharply before her voice dropped low, "I've had the whole hellish scene going round in my head since I left Sickbay." She stared Chakotay down until he finally broke the gaze, though he wasn't ready to back down entirely, even as his stance softened slightly with contrition.

"Kathryn, what do you want me to say?" he questioned quietly, "There's no way we can tell Icheb. It's too much. I wouldn't put that guilt on him even if Seven had allowed it, even if it was my place to tell him…"

"I understand Chakotay, believe me." Janeway murmured, her eyes despondently large in her white face, "But the way I see it, we don't have option of keeping him entirely in the dark. Seven is going to have to be on leave for weeks, have several more surgeries, he will take measures to find out what's going on if we shut him out. It blew up in our faces last time…" She shuddered at the memory of seeing Icheb sagging in his alcove, having just removed his cortical node himself to press it on Seven…

Chakotay winced, "There's little he can do this time." He pointed out thickly, "Even that unexpected and extreme, but you want to spin him a story?"

"How is that worse than not telling him anything?" Janeway asked bluntly and took his silence as him seeing her point. "We're not going to lie, we'll tell him most of the truth. To be honest, he's likely seen more of Seven's emotional state lately than either of us…" She trailed off guiltily, still sensitive of her own neglect, "But I absolutely agree that there's no reason to bring the role of his cortical node into the explanation, that would hurt him and Seven even more than necessary."

"Yes." Chakotay whispered, then took a deep breath, forcing his sunken shoulders back, "You're right Captain, I'm sorry I didn't see it." He still didn't want to see it, would've rather kept Icheb in an undisturbed, happy bubble about Seven being healthy and with him; he knew the horrific pain of that bursting, of a parent's sudden and rapid decline… Pushing emotion into the background however, looking at the wider picture Kathryn had drawn, he could see that it was impossible. Of course Icheb would want to know, would demand to know, what was going on with Seven as soon as he realised something was amiss. As young as he still considered the boy, he wasn't a child who could be soothed and distracted until everything had come to a head for better or worse, the very fact that Seven had his cortical node now at all was testament to that.

"I didn't want to either." Janeway admitted, putting a hand on his shoulder, "But for Seven's sake, the crew's sake, I can't keep putting my head in the sand." She shook her head, unhappiness and disappointment in herself radiating off her to such an extent that Chakotay's compassionate heart felt the need to ease it, even as his more detached mind readily acknowledged that she'd been especially distant and disengaged from all of them, not just Seven, for weeks at least. He fervently wished that it had taken an event far less agonising than this to knock Kathryn back into her 'A' game.

"No one could've foreseen this." He finally told her.

The Captain didn't answer him directly, her face tautly thoughtful for a moment before she stepped towards the door, chancing a glance back at him, "Come with me to talk to him?"

Though his stomach churned, Chakotay moved into step with her. "Let's get this over with."

"Captain, Commander." Icheb greeted simply, standing as solidly upright as the consoles that surrounded him. Chakotay was used to the parade standard stance, the solemn attentiveness that seemed ingrained as well as fastidiously learned by the cadet-in-waiting. Usually, whenever Chakotay entered Astrometrics, he'd relax after a few moments. After all, Chakotay's visits, though brief, occurred daily, or throughout the day if the region Astrometrics was assessing was interesting or dangerous. He was also only second to Seven in teaching the boy. More often than not, Icheb would immediately launch into a conversation about any research he'd been doing for homework whenever he saw Chakotay, and would continue in more and more detail until Seven took pity on Chakotay and reined their student in. Under easier circumstances, Chakotay would've cracked a smile at Icheb's evident desire to please the Captain, much like he'd been on the rare few times in his childhood when a Starfleet officer had deigned to visit his village on Dorvan V. Seeing him now though, without Seven watching on, indulging and protecting him, he struck Chakotay as vulnerable. Easily hurt. Easily disillusioned. Even then, a questioning light was dawning in his still respectful eyes when neither his Captain nor Chakotay could bring themselves to respond to him. "What do you require of me?" He glanced back at Astrometrics' main screen, "Systems are operating at 83.4% efficiency. Scans are showing that currently there is little of interest to distract from our course to the Alpha Quadrant…"

"I'm glad to…" Janeway's voice petered out, she had to swallow hard as she gazed at the boy with her heart in her eyes. "I'm glad to hear it Icheb." She managed thickly.

Icheb allowed himself a small smile at that, more tellingly his face glowed with pride and satisfaction as he nodded. Still, as the moment passed, he obviously picked up on something. Chakotay's heart sank as the younger man shot him a curious look, evidently thinking it too impertinent to direct it towards his Captain. "Icheb, son, we need to talk to you." Chakotay forced out, hating how strangled his voice sounded. He hadn't found telling anything as difficult since he'd had to tell his friends about the fate of their fellow Maquis.

Icheb's face instantly tautened in concern, his gaze eminently serious. "Concerning what?" He blanched at once as he read the clues in the Captain's still reddened eyes. "Seven?" he choked out, flinching when their heads sunk lower rather than their lips issuing stringent denials. "What happened?"

"She's in Sickbay." The Captain told him softly, gently taking his hand in hers. It was quivering. "The Doctor has had to undertake emergency surgery."

As he visibly struggled to absorb that, anger began to compete with distress in Icheb's wide eyes. "She didn't tell me." His jaw locked, "She didn't inform me she was sick."

Janeway squeezed his hand, hard. She had to curtail that line of thought. "It was sudden Icheb, brutal." She gulped, but forced herself to begin as she intended to go on. "She…didn't know herself. The Doctor had to inform me while she was unconscious, and Chakotay too."

"I found her in the Cargo Bay." Chakotay told him honestly, "She didn't have the chance…" He trailed off. It was true, she hadn't had any time to absorb the blow, other than to deny it had happened, before it knocked her down.

Icheb began to blink rapidly as guilt overcame him, but he had to know. "How did the Doctor explain what happened? Does he have a diagnosis? A treatment? You said he was operating…"

"He is." The Captain confirmed, "And he'll need to do so again, maybe several times." She forced herself to look him in the eye, "Something…caused a…cascade error in her implants." She thanked God in that moment for her Science Officer experience, "We're not sure why…" She sucked in a breath, "But Seven has been through a lot in recent moments. The contact with Unimatrix Zero, the brainwashing by the Quarrans, either or both of those things could've caused a shift…" Not really a lie, she reasoned.

"She has been acting…differently, especially recently." Icheb realised unhappily as he looked to Chakotay for support, "You spoke to her Commander, she was being late to her shifts, distracted." Chakotay tried not to wince, he knew Icheb wasn't casting blame his way, far from it, he was seeking corroboration, help in understanding, but he laid some responsibility on himself all the same. He only given Seven's out-of-character distraction the most cursory of enquiries. He'd just thought at the time that she was finally cutting herself some slack, oh how wrong he'd been! That was part of the reason he'd been annoyed when she'd blown off his offer of the cooking class, in his eyes she'd been retreating backwards again. "But she told me she was correcting that behaviour, that 'error' she said…" Icheb continued, then looked to Chakotay again, "Do you recall that I was learning human expressions Commander?"

Chakotay was caught off guard by the change in subject. "Yes, I gave you some. Why?"

"Because the last time I saw her, Seven asked me if I had learned an expression meant to alleviate guilt." Icheb told them. His voice broke, "Did she ask me that because she already felt ill and…"

Chakotay gripped Icheb's other shoulder, "Seven didn't have anything to feel guilty about Icheb." He said clearly, "What's happened was beyond her control."

"Chakotay's right Icheb." Janeway told him in a voice that brooked no argument, "Now, what we need from you is for you to go and be checked by the Doctor…" Just because his body now that the cortical node that was causing Seven so much agony, didn't mean that he didn't have another ticking time bomb inside him. She wasn't about to take any chances, and he couldn't be led to make the connection between his donated node and Seven's current state.

Icheb shrugged them both off, "It's unlikely that we share the problem. As you know, I was only partially assimilated because my parents' virus infected the drones in the Borg vessel."

"But we do need to contact Mezoti and the twins." Janeway advised him gently, "You understand why, don't you Icheb? It doesn't mean they're in danger, but we need to be sure…"

"Of course!" Icheb cut her off passionately, then turned sharply into the main console, "I will proceed with contacting them now."

"Let Harry do that Icheb…" The Captain pressed, almost pleadingly.

"I can do it faster than Ensign Kim." Icheb countered, already at work. Still, he released a shaky sigh, "I will not insist that I talk to them Captain, you will do that best, but let me do this, please."

Janeway eyes met Chakotay's tormented ones woefully in the face of such an emphatic argument. She could do nothing but nod in resigned agreement.

"Commander." The Doctor greeted, running an anxious and weary hand over his balding head as Chakotay stepped fully into Sickbay. "I thought you'd be back."

"You're finished?" Chakotay questioned, seeing that Tom was no longer here and Seven lay undisturbed on the biobed. "The Captain's waiting for your report." He told the hologram shortly.

"I was just preparing to call the Ready Room, if that's where she is?"

Chakotay sighed heavily, "She won't be going to bed tonight Doctor, you'll get her."

The Doctor hesitated, eyeing Chakotay apprehensively. He looked burnt out, physically and emotionally, and the stricken expression in his eyes as he stared at Seven, when he was normally so controlled, made the Doctor's own mood sink lower. "It went as well as I could've expected." He told him quietly, "She's stable, and safe, for now, but it'll take two more surgeries, perhaps three, before I can be sure I've rooted the damned thing out. She'll come around soon, and I'll be telling her that then putting her straight in her alcove for at least 72 hours."

"You're bringing her round already?" Chakotay questioned, "But it's only been…"

"I know." The Doctor interrupted, "But Seven's metabolism works against me by being resistant to anaesthetics." He grit his teeth, "It's another of the Collective's cruel ironies that while she can't seem to hold her drink, anaesthetics and painkillers aren't as potent."

Chakotay gave a horrified grimace. All the surgeries Seven had already endured were even worse than he'd thought. "I never knew…" He whispered.

"No." The Doctor stated simply, damnably. "Have you made any progress in contacting the children?" he asked urgently.

Chakotay's face instantly sagged in relief. "Icheb made short work of it." He exhaled so heavily he felt dizzy, "They're fine. Azan and Rebi's mother, the Captain and I sent her your parameters and she checked all three of them. None have the failsafe. ¡Gracias a Dios!"

"Yes, thank God!" The Doctor echoed. If deities acknowledged sentient holograms, then his pleas had been heard today. "What…what did you tell the kids?"

"Very little." Chakotay admitted, not without guilt. "They just took our and their mother's word for it that they needed to be scanned. They were telling me all about what they're doing, their classes, their games…" The lump in his throat choked him.

"Seven will want to hear that too." The Doctor reminded him kindly. He'd already seen that Seven was waking, the soft moan from her biobed only confirmed it, but it made Chakotay jump. "I shouldn't do this, but she'd decompile me if I stopped you from giving her the good news."

Chakotay numbly followed the Doctor towards the biobed, but his feet stuttered as he saw that Seven's skin had lurid patches of flushed skin, though her general skin tone was a sickly grey. "Is she running a fever?" he whispered anxiously.

"She always does in the first few hours of me doing anything major to her implants." The Doctor answered, "I surmise it's an immune response." He sighed, "Really, what I do know about the delicate balance between her human and cybernetic systems could fill a medical journal and what I'm not sure of could fill a database."

That was the most humble Chakotay had heard the Doctor be about Seven, but he hardly cared in that moment, instead lightly touching Seven's cheek comfortingly as a pained frown settled deep in her features. She was burning up, but the Doctor was ready with a compress and a hyprospray as she turned into Chakotay's touch. "Seven? Seven, can you hear me?" The Doctor asked softly.

After a second or so her lids, with those long gold lashes, began to blink leadenly as her full but bloodless lips parted in a grimace. "Yes." Chakotay was stunned she was that cognisant.

"The surgery was successful." The Doctor said, his voice ringing clear. A strained smile stretched his lips as Seven's eyes half opened and she gazed back at him. "But you're going to have to regenerate for some time before we proceed to the next treatment stage."

"I understand." Her dull tone made Chakotay think they'd been through this exact conversation before, but then they in all probability had. Maybe Seven didn't quite remember, or realise yet, all that had happened this time. He underestimated her again. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, Chakotay saw them widen, felt her jerk, her chest quiver. "Chakotay…" She breathed, blinking rapidly. Neither of the two saw that the Doctor was instantly on guard, watching her readings.

"Hey." Chakotay managed, "I don't think I've ever been happier to see you Seven."

Seven's brow furrowed deeper and her gaze was dark with feeling even as her brow twitched weakly. "Even…Even when I pulled you up from that crumbling cliff edge?"

Chakotay gave a start before a hoarse, near hysterical laugh left him. "You're right, maybe then."

Seven visibly shrank into herself, weak and beaten as she already was. "You contacted the children?" she whispered with gargantuan effort.

"I did." Chakotay confirmed shakily, "They're fine." He heard her gasping, painful sob of relief but kindly didn't scrutinise her. "We…we checked three times. They're laughing, playing, learning, and safe. They want to talk to you next time, don't let them down."

Seven started to cry in earnest and even as he held her hand a stroked her face, he exchanged a nervous look with the Doctor who was scanning her. His own tearful smile was enough. The failsafe had been silenced for now.

A/n: Please review.