But as always, she would wake up later, her head pulsing with all of the angry thoughts that had plagued her for months, her body and mind screaming for an end to it all.

She had saved the woman she loved, hadn’t she? Broke all of the rules and risked everything to save her beloved Seven of Nine from meeting a terrible end? Seven was still alive and thriving, a tiny little fetus holding court in her gut. Seven was human again, and utterly happy with that big fat oaf.

Even if she didn’t have her, shouldn’t she still be happy for her?

That wasn’t the way the universe worked, though. Not for Kathryn Janeway. Her life was a cacophony of regret and sorrow hidden behind a shroud of prestige, and no matter how much she achieved, in the end she was all alone and empty.

It had been easier to deal with Seven dead, because all of the longing and hope was snuffed out right along with her. But waking up every morning and seeing the radiant ex-Borg jubilant and fully adjusted to humanity tore her apart.

And she couldn’t bear it anymore.

She stumbled vaguely forwards and out of her apartment door. Into the airlift, and up to the very tip-top floor and up the stairs onto the roof. The sea breeze tickled her neck and consumed her in its salty warmth and she carried herself wearily forwards.

Something great about this modern age was that there wasn’t a whole lot of room to expand outwards, so everything expanded upwards instead. Just about every building in the city was just perfect for killing yourself on.

But this building was especially good. It gave you plenty of time to experience the weightless flight to the cement below, to feel the wind whipping through your hair and the wonders of gravity forcing you downwards at an exceptional velocity, and it ensured that you’d die upon impact.

Janeway drank her last breath of cool, clean atmosphere and stepped to the edge. She spread her arms, and let the wind sweep her gently off. As she fell, she smiled. Her hair was ripped out of it’s bun and rippled angrily behind her, her eyes were snapped open by the sheer force of the wind, and her cheeks rippled involuntarily as the ground approached.

Her savior.

When she hit her body exploded in a fantastic display of velvet. Her skull split and her brains splattered in all directions around her, an awe-inspiring explosion that soaked the pedestrians around her. Her bones cracked and smashed and shattered, and in one violent impact everything was gone.

“Kathryn!” an angry voice accompanied by a sharp jab to the ribs ripped Janeway out of her slumber.

She sat up quickly and looked frantically around. She was in her office. Breathing. Everything was still there, nothing had changed. Tal Celes looked expectantly down at her, her large brown eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and annoyance. The Bajoran woman reached down and plucked the communicator embedded in her skin off of her forehead.

“Did you forget?” she asked. “You and Seven owe Torres and I dinner.”

Janeway looked around dimly, incredibly relief washing over her.