Chapter 5

Sick Bay

"The failsafe is a device interlinked with the cortical node that triggers an automatic shutdown when abnormal emotional activity starts to occur in the brain. The purpose of the failsafe is to maintain control and solidarity within the Collective.

Borgs who undergo time in maturation chambers have a failsafe embedded in the brain. Assimilated adults have a failsafe embedded in the cortical node."

With a PADD in his hand, the Doctor studied the Hansen files on the Borg. Hovering in the air in front of him two three-dimensional holoimages of dissected brains, both pre-2370's Borg drones, and unfortunately neither human, but a young Ktarian and an adult Romulan. Both were different from the human brain in color and partitioning. But the most important thing was that across species Borg technology remained the same.

He focused on the Ktarian brain. The failsafe chip had been embedded in the epicenter of emotional expression, which for the human brain was the frontal lobe.

"Hm." He grimaced. If only the Hansens knew the lasting effects of assimilation their daughter had to endure, years after the risky decisions they made to follow their intrigue in the name of science.

'Seven was only six when assimilated, too young to be an operational drone.' He sighed, closing out the images and setting the PADD on his desk.

Riding the line between sentient or not, he understood her plight. He was never in control, always at the mercy of some organic being to activate him or fix glitches in his program. But code could be erased, corrupted, and lost. He brushed off the crews' threats to deactivate him or delete his humanizing subroutines, but the fear was always there, that the freedom he had finally acquired could be taken away at the whim of someone else.

The Sick Bay door hissed open and the Doctor looked up from his desk, catching sight of the woman stumbling in. Seven held a hand to her head, leaning into a supporting arm outstretched to the door frame. He stood, moving towards the squinting Ex-Borg with haste. "Seven—"

"The headaches are unbearable Doctor." Seven demanded his help with her sharp tone, clenching her brow to a deep furrow.

"I assume you're experiencing one now." Grabbing a hypospray from a tray atop the computer console, he programmed it and walked to her side, pressing it to her neck.

*Tsst*

"That should help." The Doctor looked down, his mouth lengthening with a frown. "I must say…you have impeccable timing."

The distress in her eyes quieted as her heaving chest began to relax. "What do you know?" Seven's pressing words and coarse tone struck him like daggers.

"I'm afraid it's not good news…" He started. "Seven…these headaches most likely are not the result of a malfunction." He walked to the computer console with her in tow. "But rather…the result of a Borg failsafe." He pushed a few buttons on the screen, bringing up an enlarged image of a failsafe chip.

"Explain."

"I know I've been encouraging you to explore your feelings—and can only surmise that I may have some fault in this— but have you been experiencing any…unbridled emotion lately?"

Seven clenched her jaw. "…Why?"

"This chip is designed to shut down your cortical node when you achieve a certain level of emotional stimulation."

"Another one of the Borg's means of control."

"Precisely."

Seven lifted her chin and looked to him. "How soon can this be fixed Doctor?"

'Fixed? Did she not hear the part about shutting down her cortical node?' Oh how he wished she didn't put all the pressure on him sometimes, thinking he had the perfect answers to all her problems and malfunctions. Sifting through the Starfleet database to find enough detailed information on the Borg was a trying experience itself, leaving him disheartened at the little there was. If it weren't for the added information in the Hansen files, he'd be left guessing.

"Unfortunately Seven, this is not an easy fix. Extraction of the failsafe will require some form of neurosurgery, and—"

The Sick Bay doors opened, and his words caught in his throat as he glanced over. 'Captain?'

From the computer they turned to meet the furrow in the Captain's brow, her confounded gaze darting about Sick Bay before she found her target, stopping and staring right at Seven. With each breath her shoulders subtly rose and fell, denoting that she probably rushed from the bridge. But how did she even know?

Calming her haste, the Captain walked towards them standing tall, but he noticed the brief, tentative lingering in her steps.

He looked to Seven, the woman clenching her jaw as she swallowed, her chest rising and falling with anxious breaths.

"What's going on Seven?" Suspicion laced the Captain's voice. "B'Elanna tells me you're acting strangely, messing up calculations…" She stopped less than an arm's distance away from the taller woman. "And I have to admit…it's not like you to be late for a meeting."

"A simple headache Captain." Seven moved over, blocking the console screen from the Captain's view.

Janeway noticed. "One bad enough to send you to Sick Bay?"

"…Yes."

'Why is the Captain pressing the matter?' The Doctor watched her perplexed and soon Janeway's narrowing gaze turned to him.

"Doctor?"

He glanced to Seven, the woman's eyes telling him not to say anything. But there was something else in her eyes that drew his lingering gaze, a hint of pleading, even sadness beneath her tensing brow. He looked down into those hawk-like eyes watching him. "Need I remind you of Doctor-Patient confidentiality Captain—"

"Need I remind you of who you're talking to?" Stunned by her own snapping, the Captain averted her eyes from his wide gaze and sighed, holding up a relenting hand. "I'm sorry Doctor…" Her voice softened and her eyes met his, the hostility in them significantly lessened. "I don't know where that came from."

"Captain, if I may be so blunt, what does this concern yo—" He stared at the predominate worry in Janeway's eyes.

The Captain cared deeply about Seven, he knew it, everyone did. But the rare semblance of fear he saw in the Captain's eyes, told him a very different story. Like the heart-wrenching fear consuming Des Grieux's gaze in Puccini's Manon Lescaut, as he held his dying lover Manon in Act 4. It was that story, encapsulating a lover's fear of loss.

He looked up to the blonde, remembering Seven's "admiration" for the Captain.

He kept it from Seven, but at the time of that conversation his scans indicated more, with Seven's neurochemistry having spiked to an all-time high.

Not knowing what to make of it, he played it safe telling her her feelings were admiration when it really leaned towards sexual arousal. He simply figured the sudden onset of new emotions threw Seven's hormones out of whack, giving her higher medical readings than normal.

'I never thought to ask if maybe…' He clenched his brow at the woman whose eyes had locked onto the Captain.

"Is there a problem Doctor?"

He ignored Janeway's concern. "Seven? Are you and the…w-why didn't you tell me—"

"Thank you Doctor for your input computer deactivate EMH." Seven's rushed words and annoyed voice struck the room just before he fizzled away mid-sentence.

Janeway turned to the blonde with a knowing look and tense brow. "What are you hiding from me Seven?" She paused. "Keeping things from me won't help us move forward."

Seven stayed quiet, turning to the console, her back to the Captain. "…I suppose not." She hesitated a moment longer. "Computer reactivate EMH." Defeat filled her voice and the Doctor shimmered back to life.

"I really hate it when you guys do that—"

"Explain it to her Doctor." Seven turned to him with a slower lift of her chin.

"Are you sure Seven?"

"…Yes."

The Doctor looked to Janeway. "Seven's headaches are a result of a Borg failsafe. In the Collective if a drone were to begin experiencing emotional activity beyond what is limited, this chip…" He pointed to the screen and Janeway moved closer; her arm brushing against Seven as she studied the diagram on the console with a scientist's eyes. "…acts as a kill switch shorting and then disabling the cortical node."

Janeway pulled away from the console, a little color draining from her face. "…And then what Doctor?"

He stammered when she turned to him, the sharp look in her eyes a warning. "Well…Seven would die."

The Captain looked back to the screen, no shock on her face.

"Without her cortical node her implants cannot function." He glanced to Seven who watched Janeway's profile with gentle sorrow befalling her gaze.

"How long have you been having these headaches?" Janeway's stern voice commanded an answer from the woman beside her.

"Three weeks Captain."

Janeway stayed quiet for a while, her jaw clenched, and lips pressed to a tight line.

He figured a series of morbid scenarios were flooding her mind, helping her prepare for the worst possible outcome.

"Wouldn't this process be instant?" She looked to him, her tone cautious, worry leaking out from her cracked Captain's demeanor.

"For a regular drone…possibly. But my theory is, since Seven's human physiology began reasserting itself, she has developed a certain tolerance because her body no longer relies on Borg implants alone. In Seven's case I believe this process is taking weeks, and has manifested in the form of headaches."

"Doctor." Seven's attention turned to him. "Is there a procedure to remove the chip?"

His eyes drifted down. "I've been working on something…" He looked back to her. "…but I'm afraid any surgery would be risky."

With a frustrated grumble under her breath, Janeway turned her back to them and walked away from the console, her hands going to her forehead and hip as she paced the room.

"How risky Doctor?" Seven asked.

"You could end up brain dead."

Seven glanced over her shoulder to Janeway, and when she looked back to him, he saw the determination in her eyes. He was doing that surgery regardless of what he thought about it. He looked to the Captain who stood in the middle of Sick Bay contemplating, probably trying to think of a-hundred-and-one ways to do things differently.

'I'm surprised I didn't catch on to it earlier.' He thought.

Practical, efficient, brutally honest, Seven was a good match for the Captain. Someone to keep the intrepid woman grounded and level-headed. Someone to love her, to look after her as she did everyone else. Someone to take the weight off her shoulders, to fight for her and smack some sense into her head when she tried to brave the unknown alone. And someone to be there, to ride through the bumpy aftermath of those risky decisions.

And just as important as Seven was to the Captain, the Captain was to Seven. The Ex-Borg needed an unwavering constant in her life, and someone patient, who wasn't afraid to confront her stubbornness.

The main problem he saw with this blossoming relationship was the Captain. As told by the failsafe, Seven had no issue expressing her feelings, but the Captain was different, he speculated from his many interactions with her. If pushed too far too soon, she would start to shut down, or her sense of duty would blind her and she would pull away, insisting on keeping their relationship professional.

"I want you to do it—"

"Seven."

The blonde clenched her jaw at Janeway's stern plea but stared steadfast into his eyes.

"This is my choice Doctor. I want you to do it—"

"Wait." Janeway walked over, resting a supportive hand on Seven's arm. "Doctor, are there any alternatives to this procedure? Something less invasive?"

"If we can bring Seven's neural readings back to what they were prior to the headaches, then there is a possibility we can stay the affects and subsequent neurodegeneration, essentially keeping the failsafe at bay—"

"Concluding my relationship with the Captain—"

"Seven." The Captain sniped out of instinct, trying to protect a secret already in the open.

Seven looked to the woman holding onto her. "Did you think the Doctor did not know?"

If he had a heart it would have raced at the gripping scene before him, playing out like something ripped from a soap opera. He could see the story's plot shining in his mind's eye; a leader's steamy, almost illicit relationship with a subordinate facing surmounting odds as they're forced to live and work day by day amongst each other, all while hiding the rapturous details of their heated romance behind sealed lips and closed doors.

He cleared his throat, taming his melodramatic thoughts. "Of course, that would also mean reversing the progress Seven's made with her individuality." He looked to the Ex-Borg. "Even though you came to us kicking and screaming, I doubt you want to go back."

"You are correct." Seven glanced to him and back to the Captain, whose distant gaze avoided her. "It is worth it to me."

Letting go of Seven, Janeway walked to the console. "There has to be another way." She leaned in, her hands bracing the counter's edge as she scanned the screen again, readying her finger to press a button.

"Captain to the Bridge."

At the announcement overhead, her hovering hand fell to the countertop and she hung her head.

Seven's hand slid onto her shoulder; a riveting sight the Doctor thought as he caught the true concern in Seven's gesture, and the subtle clench of her hand. He'd never seen her touch anyone else that way—or touch anyone period.

Janeway ignored the hand, not even looking in the Ex-Borg's direction. When she lifted her gaze, a furrow scrunched her brow as she turned around, walking out from underneath the hand, and through the Sick Bay doors without a word or glance to either of them.

"I've never seen her react that way." The Doctor was the first to speak as he and Seven stared at the closed Sick Bay doors.

"Doctor…" Seven looked to him. "How soon can you do the procedure?"

"Tomorrow, if you're ready."

"I have no reason to wait." She took a step towards the door.

"Seven." He caught her attention and she turned to him. "I'd like for you to wear this cortical monitor." He moved to the opposite side of the medical console. "It will allow me to monitor your neural pathways and let me know what's going on the next time you start having headaches."

She nodded.

Picking up a small, round medical sensor from the tray on the counter he moved in, placing it against the left side of her neck. "Seven…" He softened his voice, his face near hers as he activated the sensor. "How is it going with the Captain?"

"I do not see any medical need in this line of questioning." She kept her focus straight ahead.

"Now I'm asking as a friend. We haven't covered any lessons on dating yet and I think the Captain is quite an advanced first choice." He paused. "It's a little early to be speaking about love, but do you…" He trailed off trying to elicit a response from her.

"Do I what Doctor?" She looked to him as he stepped back and met her gaze.

"Do you…love her?"

"I desire her, yes."

The Doctor held up a finger and smiled. "Love and desire are not the same thing."

"…I am not sure what you are asking Doctor. But I believe the Captain understands my intentions."

"Has she reciprocated?"

"Much."

The Doctor almost grinned, looking away with a hint of glee in his eyes as he turned his back to her and started away, meandering about Sick Bay. "You two did always have a special zest together—"

"Doctor I must get back to work."

On his heel he turned to her, forgetting his romantic musings. "Of course." He held his smile. "Hard as it may be, refrain from any emotional stimulation, and I will let you know immediately if I find any new information."

"Understood." Seven nodded to him and walked out of Sick Bay.

The Doctor watched the doors close, then turned around with a triumphant "hmph", and headed back to his office.

Bridge

"Harry run another scan." Chakotay stood from his chair and turned to Ensign Kim's workstation, placing his hand on the railing between them.

"Still nothing Commander." Harry's eyes met his. "It's gone."

"Report."

At the Captain's stern voice, Chakotay looked to the turbolift watching Kathryn step out with a furrow pinching her brow.

"I swear sensors picked up a ship Captain." Harry's eyes darted about his console and his hands flew across the board.

"And I can vouch for that." Chakotay saved the ensign from the Captain's wrath.

Not even an hour since their chat and her demeanor had completely changed, her lips tight and eyes grim.

He knew that look, recognized the way anger transformed her face. As a person with a substantial amount of self-control, the Captain's temper only surfaced when circumstances turned personal. His eyes lingered on her all the way to the Captain's chair. She took a careful seat, and not once looked at him. "Whatever was out there seems to have disappeared from sight. Like any trace has been erased."

Just as she began to slouch in her chair, she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, a hand cupping her jaw, and fingers spidering across her mouth.

Her eyes glazed over the more he watched her stare at the view screen. She was deep in thought, but not about the ship.

"Cloaking residue?"

"None Captain." Harry answered her half-hearted inquiry.

"Maintain Course."

Chakotay's brow tensed as he wondered why a normally explorative person cared nothing about a possible anomaly in their vicinity. What happened in Sick Bay? "Captain—"

"Do it."

The bridge silenced and Chakotay glanced to Harry, who peeled his anxious eyes from the Captain; Voyager's humming thickening the atmosphere. Chakotay took his seat looking to her once more, and with reluctance back to the view screen.

He'd lost a part of her; he could feel it.

A.N. Dialogue...TONS of dialogue, I know. On the opposite hand, I'm finishing up a one-shot with much less dialogue, that I've been working on for a while. Will anyone read a sad-ish J7 one-shot lol?