"No Such Thing As Faeries"
by Ardelle
To Evan, my little imp
Part 5: "In order to succeed you must learn to fit in."

        It had been ten years since Naomi had slipped into her mysterious
coma.  The Doctor had not been able to let her go, so she had been kept
in stasis for years.  Delia had grown increasingly strange as she got
older.  She had found no area that particularly interested her, in fact,
nearly everything bored her, except being on her beloved moor.  Delia did
her work well, so her parents could really find no complaint.  They might
have tried to love her, but there was not much there to love.  Delia
always did what was practical, going about things almost like Seven of
Nine.  This was odd, because Delia avoided Seven, only speaking to her
when it was necessary during lessons.
        One event stood out in Tom and B'Elanna's mind.  It was Delia's
tenth birthday.  Neelix, Janeway, Chakotay, Samantha and Joe Carey,
Harry, the Doctor, even Tuvok and Seven.  Each one had given her a
wonderful gift, but Tom and B'Elanna watched, heart sinking, as she
refused every one of them.  It wasn't to be virtuous, but simply because
she didn't want them.  What use were they if she didn't want them? 
Stiffly, she refused each one of them, returning them to the hands of the
giver.  All except one.
        That was a gift from Chakotay.  When Delia talked to anyone, it
was Chakotay.  Somehow she connected with him.  This hurt her parents,
but they did not say so.
        He gave her a very odd gift:  A set of bagpipes.
        "They'll be perfect for your moor," he explained.  Delia took to
them immediately, beautiful, haunting tunes spilling from it the minute
she played.
        "Many thanks," she whispered between breaths.  "Can I go now,
Mama?"
        "We haven't even cut the cake," Tom said.
        "Okay," said Delia, who was very fond of sweets.  She'd left the
minute she was finished with her cake, however.  She left her parents to
apologize for her rudeness.
        That had to be the only time she'd fought with her parents. 
Delia didn't see the behavior as rude at all, despite what her parents
had taught her.  She just ran off to the moor again, where she had to be
fetched when it was time to sleep.  Though Delia seemed to need less
sleep than others, her parents were insistent on a steady bedtime.  Delia
just put up with it.  She didn't see any reason in fighting.
***
"Lashing it out like uncivilized animals is honorable?  I think not!"
-Children of Gaia, "Werewolf: The Apocalypse"
***
        Today was a special day.  It was Memorial Day for Voyager.  There
was to be a barbecue on the holodeck, a time to remember those lost.  The
most mourned were Kes and Naomi, although Naomi was technically not dead,
there was no hope for her this year.
        Though Delia most certainly did not want to attend the barbecue
and mingle with the crew, she knew that it would not please her parents
or make the crew like her any more if she didn't.  She always felt an
obligation to please her parents, because she did not seem to do it to
begin with.  She felt almost as if she owed them an apology for turning
out the way she did.  It was as if she wasn't their child at all, but
some one else's, maybe Chakotay's.  Yet not even he understood her most
of the time.
        Delia sat under the shade of a maple tree chewing on some candied
taana fruit.  Seven approached her.  Delia's heart skipped a beat.
        "Delia," Seven said.  "It is quite fascinating how you have grown
so quickly in the last few weeks.  Has your appetite improved?"
        "Not really," said Delia, swallowing.  One subject of concern,
especially to Neelix, was that Delia ate like a bird, even when she ate
sweets.
        "You have been playing the bagpipes for several years now, am I
correct?"
        "Yes."
        "Do you enjoy playing them?"
        "Yes."  Seven's questions were casual, but she made them sound as
casual as a breach in the warp core.  She might have improved her
conversation skills over the years, but she had not improved on making
everything sound like a Borg code.  Maybe that was what bothered Delia
about her.  However, with her flat, one-syllable answers, she didn't seem
much different than Seven.
        "There is a talent show in a few days.  Harry has persuaded me to
sing in it.  Perhaps you could play."
        Delia was about to say no, then reconsidered.  Her parents would
be horribly pleased to see her participate in such a social activity. 
She sighed.
        "If I must."
        "There is no obligation."
        "I would like to," Delia said.
        "Good.  That is nice to know.  It could be a day for new talents,
as it were.  It will be fun."
        "Great," said Delia, eyes shifting to a smoky green.  She took a
bite of her taana fruit and chewed, ending the conversation.
        A little bit later she got up for some more taana fruit.  Getting
in line for the buffet, she accidentally knocked over a glass of zaran
juice all over Captain Janeway's new dress.  Delia gasped and apologized,
zaran juice stained just about anything.
        "Delia!"
        "Yes Captain?" Delia inquired, raising her smoky-green eyes to
meet Kathryn Janeway's.
        "Did you do this on purpose?"
        When Delia got especially bored, she was prone to mischief. 
Mischief like ruining the captain's new dress.  But she hadn't done it on
purpose this time.
        "No," she said, eyes becoming defensive and dark.  "Why would I
do that?"
        "I don't mean to say I'm accusing you-"
        "But you are," Delia finished.  "Skip the technicalities,
Captain, I dislike it when you beat around the bush.  You think I did it
because you don't trust me, you don't understand me, you don't like me. 
I understand.  How typical!  You think it's hard to put up with *me?!* 
Imagine how hard it is to put up with you idiots."  Delia's eyes were not
angry, rather a mirthful lilac.  She grinned an eerie grin, wide and
malicious.
        "Hey, I don't think that's being completely fair," Harry Kim
piped up.  "It would seem you're the oddball here."
        "And damn proud of it!"
        "In order to succeed you must learn to fit in.  We all managed
it.  Even though I'm a hologram, they learned to accept me when I learned
to fit in with them."  Everyone agreed with the Doctor.
        "Then I guess I won't be successful," Delia replied.
        Before anyone could stop her, Delia left the holodeck.  Everyone
was silent.      
***
"And all I know
Is guilt for being different...
In Smalltown
Everybody looks the same
There are unwritten rules
Unspoken words
Should I pack my fear and go?
I have to leave somehow
Before they run me out of town
I have to leave somehow."
-Chumbawumba, "Smalltown"
***
        Delia went down to one of the cargo bays, to where Neelix tended
Kes' garden.  She was a little ashamed of her outburst, not for saying
her opinion but for the reflection it must leave on her parents.  She was
determined to still make them proud this Memorial Day, so proud that
she'd perform an ancient ritual, one that before she'd always thought was
stupid.  Carefully and respectfully picking some of the flowers, Delia
formed a pretty bouquet.
        As she stepped out of the cargo bay, she saw something glimmer
near the door.  A little silvery flash of something.  Delia walked back
in, slowly, wondering if what she had seen was her imagination.  No, it
wasn't.  There, by the door, was a little sign, perhaps more properly
called a rune.  It said, twinkling there:  "This place is safe." 
Confused and a little frightened, Delia hurried out of the cargo bay. 
Her job was almost done.
***
"So long ago
I can't remember when
That's when they say
I lost my only friend..."
-The Wallflowers, "One Headlight"
***
        Samantha Wildman and Joe Carey were already there, paying their
respects to the might-as-well-have-been-dead Naomi.  Delia walked quietly
in, placing the bouquet next to the stasis chamber.  She lay still, as
she always did, forever in her coma.  Delia didn't remember what
happened, it had been ten years ago.  Still, she felt a twinge of
something as she lay the bouquet down.  Was it jealousy?  Maybe.  *Lucky
her,* Delia thought.  *She hasn't a care in the world.*
        Delia exited as quietly as she had come.  She went back to her
family's quarters and practiced her bagpipes.  They didn't sound as good
there as on the moor, but she didn't care.  After a while she was just
playing to make noise.  Then she started jumping up and down for a long
time, just to keep moving, just to do something.  Her thoughts were
up-down-up-downupdownupdownupdown...  What would she say to her parents? 
Delia was not sorry for the speech she'd made.  And the more she thought
about it, the less she cared whether or not they were pleased with her. 
It didn't matter- she wasn't one of them.  She never was, never would be.
 Delia knew somehow this should make her sad, but it didn't.
        Suddenly she stopped.  Some one was watching her.
        "Who...what...?" she stammered.
        A tall person with the same silvery-pale hair stood before her. 
Their eyes were that mischievous lilac that Delia's sometimes turned. 
They seemed elegant, with upswept ears, very thin.  "Hello," they said,
"Remember me?"

TO BE CONTINUED....

Everything belongs to whoever it belongs to you know who you are don't
sue me because I mean no harm.  Don't post this without my permission.