Epilogue
I can't breathe.
The air is thick, humid, filled with steam and smoke, and all around me everything is dark, tinged a putrid green. I see the Borg Queen before me, gasping, writhing on the floor, her face contorted in agony as she dies. I try to smile at my victory, but my own face twists into a deathmask as I feel the same virus tearing through me, killing me. I'm sliding downwards, down into the darkness...
The air... so thick, so hot... my lungs stinging... I hear the pounding that I thought was the ship's engines begin to build, and I realize that it's my heart. Beating, shaking my chest with the force of it... slowing... slowing... coming to a stop.
And so I die. I feel my... soul, my spirit, whatever's left of me, rising, drifting upwards like the smoke that fills the room. Then a hand, reaching for me. Definitely Borg. I hear a voice calling, whispering to me: "I've been waiting for you, Captain..." But I am not afraid. I want to see, I want to know. I have to. I feel myself reaching out--
Then her hand is on mine and it is gentle, oh so gentle. "I have been waiting for you for so long," the voice says. I feel my entire being tremble as I finally look up into the achingly familiar face of... Seven of Nine. Only she seems different somehow. Older, perhaps. "You are safe now," she is saying, and now I can hear the tenderness in her voice, the love. "I have you." Everywhere around her is this soft warm light, and as Seven pulls me into her arms I feel the years fall away from me like leaves, until I am a young woman again and she is pressing her lips to mine--
"Regeneration cycle complete."
My eyes open to a room that is tinged a fluorescent green, and my heart begins to pound in terror, beating so hard in my chest it hurts. I really am here, in the Queen's chamber. The Timeship Relativity must have taken me during my sleep and reintegrated me with the Admiral, given me the ending I deserve. And I realize that this is it, this is my destiny. I know that I've lost Seven forever, and there's nothing I can do to change it. "No..." I sob. "Seven..."
Then she is leaning over me, her hand on my arm. "Shhh, Kathryn. I am right here."
I stare uncomprehendingly into the eyes of my wife, and only slowly do I realize that we're in our house in Half Moon Bay, not some Borg vessel. "Seven?"
She smiles softly at me. "I believe you were having a nightmare."
"I believe I was," I whisper, and struggle to focus on reality, not the images from my dream. I remember tucking Seven in earlier -- programming her alcove so she could regenerate for a few hours, then deciding to take a shower while her cycle finished. Afterwards I put on the red silk robe she bought for me during our honeymoon on Risa and came down to the basement to wait for her. I must have then fallen asleep here in the chair beneath her alcove. "At least, I thought it was a nightmare," I continue. "Now I'm not sure what to think."
"Perhaps it would help if you told me about it?" she murmurs as she crawls into the overstuffed chair with me, her long legs curling around mine on the ottoman. Long gone are the days when she never initiated physical contact between us, now it seems she wants to touch me everywhere, all the time.
Not that I'm complaining.
"Perhaps it would help," I agree. "But first, come here." I reach up to slide my hand around the back of her neck and guide her head down onto my chest, wanting to feel as close to her as possible right now. The movement widens the gap in my robe and I feel her breath tickle my skin, sending a shiver through me. "I've been having this one recurring dream," I explain, "ever since we returned to the Alpha Quadrant." As I speak I begin to comb my fingers through her hair, taking full advantage of the fact that she never wears it up anymore. At least not when we're at home. "It always begins with me feeling like I can't breathe. The air seems thick, and it's filled with steam and smoke. Everything around me is dark, tinged a putrid green, and I realize--"
"You are on a Borg Cube," Seven says, tonelessly.
"Yes." I move my hand from her hair to rub comfortingly up and down her back, my fingers following along the seam of her bio-suit -- the plum-colored one I love. "I also realize that I'm not me. I'm the other Admiral Janeway, the one from the future. And these are the last moments of my life after I've infected the Borg Queen with the pathogen. I see the Queen dying in front of me, and then I start to feel myself fade away..." As I describe my death, Seven slips her hand inside my robe and places it over my heart, perhaps needing the tactile sensation of feeling my heartbeat to reassure her that I'm only discussing an illusion. "The dream always ends the same, with a Borg hand reaching for me. I was certain that it was the Queen's hand, that she was coming after me even in death, but I always woke up before she could catch me. Until tonight, that is."
"How was tonight different?"
I pull back slightly so I can see into her eyes. "I finally saw the face of the person that has been reaching for me, and it wasn't the Borg Queen at all--"
"It was me," Seven guesses.
"It was you," I confirm. "You told me you'd been waiting for me, then you pulled me into your arms and said, 'You are safe now. I have you.' Then you started to kiss me, and that's when I woke up."
"That does not sound like a nightmare at all," she remarks with smile.
"No, it doesn't," I answer softly.
"But why were you so convinced that it was the Borg Queen who was reaching for you? I wondered immediately if perhaps the hand belonged to me."
I give Seven an odd look, wondering why her intuition kicked in so much quicker than mine. "Because that's how the Admiral died. Because sometimes that's..." But I stop myself before finishing the thought.
"Because that's... what? What were you going to say?"
Maybe because my mind is still fuzzy from sleep. Or maybe because I simply don't want to hide anything from her, not anymore. Whatever the reason, I answer honestly. "Because there's a part of me that still thinks that's what I deserve."
Seven pulls away from me, stares at me. "You believe that you should die?"
"There are times that I believe I am happier now than I deserve to be," I admit, and look away.
"Explain," she demands, the quick reversion to Borg-speak alerting me that she's upset.
I stifle a sigh. "So many people have suffered because of me, Seven, don't you see? So many have died."
"And so many have lived. Chakotay, B'Elanna Torres, the rest of the Maquis, they would have all been killed by the Jem'hadar if not for you. Because of you, Tom Paris has earned the approval of his father, and has begun his own family. Neelix has found a place among his own people where he is respected and loved. And Icheb has a future as an individual, not as a mindless weapon against the Borg." She turns my chin so I am looking up at her. "And I have the chance to live as a human being outside of the Borg Collective, to know what it means to feel love, and to know that I am loved in return."
I can't help but soften as she says that, but still I'm not convinced. "But is it enough? How can any of that ever begin to nullify all the mistakes I've made?"
Seven's optical implant rises along with her left eyebrow. "I was once told that the measure of a person is in our hearts, not in our hands. We cannot live our lives in a constant state of trying to measure our actions, of trying to see if our good deeds outweigh our crimes. Each of us must simply live our lives according to the precepts of his or her own heart, and trust that it will not lead us astray."
That deserves a full-on 'big gooey look.' "How did you get so wise?" I murmur.
"I had an excellent teacher." She places a quick kiss the corner of my mouth, then smiles at me. "Captain."
I return her smile, at least partially. "Still, it's hard for me to comprehend all of this. That Voyager's journey is finally over. That my crew is home, and safe. And that somehow, in spite of everything, I even managed to get the girl in the end." I shake my head. "I can't help but wonder when the other shoe is going to drop."
A mischievous gleam comes into Seven's eyes, and I feel her legs move around mine. A moment later I hear a thud on the other side of the ottoman. "That was the first one, Kathryn," she grins playfully. "Here is the other." Then she kicks off her second shoe.
"Now you're just being silly," I laugh.
"No, I am being proactive," she says. "And I also have a correction for you."
"Oh?"
"You did not 'get the girl in the end.'"
I feel my eyebrows shoot off my forehead. "I didn't?"
"No." Seven leans close so her breath tickles my ear. "The girl got you," she says, and gently nips my earlobe.
"I like the sound of that," I smile, then guide her head back to my shoulder and wrap my arms tightly around her.
We hold each other like this for several long moments as I stare at Seven's alcove, thinking about everything that has brought us both here. Maybe Seven is right. Maybe there is nothing I can do to deserve being this happy. But by God, she deserves to be. And if I have to spend the rest of my life ensuring that she is, then that's exactly what I'm going to do. After all, that's what I promised when we exchanged our vows.
Another moment passes until I begin to think Seven must have fallen asleep, then I feel her nuzzling into my neck. "I would, you know," she says softly.
"You would, what?"
"I would wait for you."
I lean back so I can see her face. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Do you not have some belief in an afterlife?" The clear blue eyes, so close to my own, are unblinking. "I had thought that you did, with your traditionalist background and the many references to God that you use in conversation."
Ah, we're back to discussing my dream. I should have known she wouldn't let it go that easily. "Actually, I'm not sure what I believe," I confess. "I would like to think there is something else besides this mortal coil, but my scientific mind tells me this is all we have. I think I finally came to the conclusion that it would be arrogant of me to definitively decide one way or the other," I say as I brush the hair back from Seven's forehead. "What about you? What do you believe?"
"I am like you in that I am uncertain, although I have been examining the possibility ever since my cortical node failed last year." Seven's lips purse as she thinks a moment. "I have the knowledge of thousands of species in my mind concerning a belief in the afterlife, but I do not know what I personally believe. All of these beliefs are different, and yet... the same. Most provide for some sense of redemption. After my life as Borg, I find myself increasingly intrigued by this concept." My arms squeeze reflexively around her, conveying my own understanding of this need for redemption. "But if there were such a thing as an afterlife, and I were to die before you, I would attempt to wait for you. I would not want you to have to enter a different state of existence alone."
"That's a beautiful thought," I whisper, and kiss her forehead. "Thank you." Then I smile crookedly. "But you know, in my dream I'm not me. I'm that older, future version of myself, remember? And as I recall you could barely stand to be in the same room with her."
"That was not the case," she says. "After all, the Admiral was you." Then Seven lowers her eyes so I can't see into them. "But you are correct. Being near her made me feel uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable? How so?" I ask, although I think I can guess.
"I did not like the way I felt when she looked at me," she admits.
"Oh Seven, I'm so sorry," I say, that old familiar guilt twisting in my belly. After all, the Admiral's unwanted advances were really my own, weren't they? "I noticed it too, and you're right. It was way out of line. I wish I could have done something to shield you from her--"
"That is not what I meant," she interrupts. "When the Admiral looked at me, it made me feel strange... here," Seven says, and places her hand on my abdomen. "I felt a... a fluttering when I was near her. So much so that I began to think I was ill." I feel some of that same fluttering now, as Seven lightly rubs her hand across the front of my robe. "But it was not until much later that I identified what I had seen in the Admiral's eyes, and realized why I was disturbed by it."
"What was it?" I ask softly. "What did you see?"
"It was excitement... longing. Desire."
I feel myself go very still. "And that disturbed you?"
"It did. Because although that was what I saw when I looked into her eyes, it was not what I saw when I looked into yours. I found this contradiction to be most... unsettling," Seven confesses, her hand beginning to move over my stomach in small, concentric circles. "But I could not begin to understand why until much later."
"Until you'd had time to get used to your emotional inhibitor being deactivated," I guess.
"Correct." The slow circles that her hand is making are growing wider, her fingers dipping lower with each motion. "Suddenly I was flooded with so much emotion, so many feelings. It was... overwhelming." I feel my robe loosening, starting to fall open, her fingertips sliding from silken material to bare skin and back again. "And then we were in the Alpha Quadrant, and my world changed exponentially. I found that the only constant in my life was Commander Chakotay and his interest in me, so I busied myself with pursuing that relationship-"
"Seven," I interrupt, gently cupping her cheek. "This isn't necessary. You don't have to explain anything about Chakotay. What happened between the two of you is in the past." And to be honest, I'd rather not be thinking about Chakotay while she's touching me like this.
"Agreed. But this is not about him. It is about the Admiral," she breathes. "It is about you." And she bends down to press her lips to my neck, to that sensitive spot that makes me squirm.
"Oh," I say faintly.
"The relationship with Chakotay gave me a sense of purpose," Seven continues as she trails kisses along my skin, "but it did not preoccupy my mind. Instead I found my thoughts returning to you, and to something your counterpart had revealed to me," she says. "Do you remember the Admiral's attempt to convince me to help dissuade you from destroying the transwarp hub?"
"Mmm," I moan in agreement as her hand slips between the folds of my robe. I'm trying very hard to ignore the tingles Seven is sending through me, even as my legs spread open, begging for the deeper touch she isn't yet ready to give. This is one of her favorite games, trying to see how long I can stay focused on a serious discussion while she touches me, teases me--
"The Admiral told me I would be able to change your mind if I pointed out that my life was in danger, but I refused to challenge your decision," Seven explains, nibbling her way up to my earlobe as her fingertips dance along my inner thighs. "She then said that if I would not do it for myself, then I should do it for the people who love me." Her fingers brush hyper-sensitive nerve endings, drawing a gasp, then skitter away. "The implication should have been that the Admiral was speaking of Chakotay, since she had just revealed that we would be married in the alternate timeline. But that is not what I saw in her eyes. That is not what I heard in her voice. It felt like she was confessing her own feelings for me, her own love for me. Then I began to wonder if perhaps she meant to imply something more -- that she was telling me you loved me as well. And I realized that I wanted you to," she murmurs, her breath hot on my skin, making me shiver. "I wanted you to very much." I feel the tip of her tongue caress the inner curve of my ear, and bite back a moan. "I think perhaps it is what I have always wanted."
"But you never said anything..."
"I attempted to. When I asked you to take me to your hometown, I planned to tell you of my realization then. But your behavior that day made me believe I had been mistaken, and had somehow misunderstood the Admiral's message."
That's when I told her to marry Chakotay. Practically ordered her to, in fact. "Oh God," I groan. Could I have been more blind? "I'm so sorry I hid my feelings from you," I say, winding my hand into Seven's hair to pull her head to mine. "I must have been crazy. An absolute idiot."
"Yes," she breathes. "You were."
"Can you possibly forgive me?" I ask, and place my lips to hers.
"Of course," she whispers. Then we are kissing, tongues sliding together, gliding along lips and teeth. But after a moment Seven pulls away. "I am still concerned about you, however," she frowns.
"Why?" I shake my head, trying to concentrate on what she is saying, and not the luscious pouting lips that form the words, or the roaming fingertips that are so close to--
"Your dream," she says. "Although I can appreciate how it ends, I do not like that you were frightened leading up to the dream's resolution. Perhaps it is unwise for you to fall asleep surrounded by all this Borg technology. I think it may be adversely affecting your subconscious."
"Oh no you don't," I protest. "Watching you regenerate was one of the few pleasures I allowed myself when we were on Voyager. There's no way I'm going to stop now that I can do it legally."
A slight smile lights Seven's face as she brushes a strand of hair back from my forehead. "Always watching over me," she murmurs.
"Always," I smile.
Seven abruptly pulls away again. "I want to make love now," she declares, standing in one quick movement. "Let us go to bed." She reaches out to me with her Borg hand, a challenge in the imperious tilt of her head. "Well? I'm waiting, Captain."
Looking up at her, I think that maybe that's what the dream has been trying to tell me all along. That Seven was always there, always reaching out to me. All I had to do was reach out to her. "What's wrong with right here?" I ask huskily.
Seven looks down on me, considers my prone position with a sweeping glance. "Nothing," she smiles, reaching up to the clasp at the back of her neck. "It is acceptable." As I watch, she slowly peels the sleeves of her bio-suit away to reveal soft, rounded curves, and I think back to that day on the Borg Cube when I was first introduced to the Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One. How different she was then, her body encased in hard armor, every movement controlled, powerful as she stepped down from her alcove. Suddenly Seven clutches the material at her abdomen and impatiently rips the rest of her suit off, the fabric rending easily from her waist to her knee. A shiver of excitement ripples through me, a feeling that is only enhanced by the knowledge that we've never made love in this room before -- the only one in the house that still bares that distinction, in fact. Perhaps it had never felt right to do so until now, but at the moment it seems...
Perfect.
Then Seven is leaning over me, sliding firm hands under my robe to open it fully, slowly caressing every millimeter of skin that's revealed. But before I surrender completely to the delicious sensations, an absurd thought flits through the back of my mind. Maybe my dream has another interpretation. Maybe, somehow, it also means that the other Admiral Janeway was finally able to reunite with her own Seven in some way. I know it's a fanciful notion, but I really would like to think she found some measure of happiness in the end.
She deserved it.
Then Seven is kneeling between my legs, pulling me into her arms for one soul-shattering kiss. And here in the soft green light that surrounds us, there is nothing else but this: Seven's arms around me, her soft skin beneath my fingertips, and her breath mingling with mine as a single thought echoes through me:
I'm home.
The End.