Copyright 2000, Susan S. McCrackin  Reprinted with permission of the author.

Kahkar moved quickly through the corridors of his ship. He had just checked the systems in engineering and was now hurrying back to the bridge. It was difficult to maintain a ship of this size with a crew of only four. 

A crew of four. He had planned on a crew of one.

They had refused to let him leave on his own. He had told them the chances that he would never return to Eutaria were high, but it had not mattered. They told him their home was wherever he was.

He had sold everything he owned to buy this ship from the government of Eutaria. Even so, he knew they had sold it to him for only what he had and not for its real value. He knew they had done it for him. They would have given it to him, but they knew he would have refused it.

Leaving his home had been difficult, but she was his child now. Once he accepted her into his heart as his own, she became more important to him than anyone other than his wife. They were a family, and his family came first.

And he was anxious to see his family.

He rounded a corner and ran into Supala, who bounced off of him and landed flat on her back.

"Supala! Are you hurt?" He reached to lift her off the floor.

"No, Captain, I am fine." She shook herself, her red tousle of hair bouncing as she did, her red eyes flashing in embarrassment. "I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going."

"No, the fault is mine. My mind was somewhere else." He looked over her head, down the corridor, "I need to get to the bridge."

"Oh, I was coming to find you." He looked at her expectantly and she continued, "Yes, Eloca wants to talk to you."

"He does? Why did he not ask the computer to contact me?"

She frowned, and he knew she had not stopped to question Eloca. She had just left on her mission. He hid is smile from her. He knew exactly why Eloca had sent her to find him. Supala was a delightful being and a treasure to have around, but she could be very…childlike. Sometimes, he thought Supala and Flotter had a lot in common. Still, she was endearing to him, and he had loved watching her grow. She had come a long way since she had joined his ship, but even he would admit she had a long way to go.

"Come, Supala. We will go to Eloca." He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her around, "Do you know if there is a problem?"

"I don’t think there is a problem, but I think he wants to double check some of Rowin’s navigational charts with you."

The twins. Competitive twins at that. One was forever challenging what the other was doing. Times like this, he wondered if he would not have been better off trying to run the ship by himself. "Okay. Let’s go." He started off at a quick pace.

She hustled to keep up with him, trying unsuccessfully to match his long stride. From time to time, she would glance up at him, grateful that Kahkar did not seem to notice. She looked up at him with complete love and adoration. It was why she would not leave him. It was the same for all three of them. Kahkar and Ketaria were the only family they had ever known. They had taken the three orphans onto their ship and into their hearts. Without them, she was pretty sure the twins and she would have had very different lives. There was no way they would leave the Omarahns.

They would gladly follow them to the edges of the universe if they had to.

The Doctor sat at his desk, his computer on in front of him, but his thoughts elsewhere. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Meloka and Otoro as they moved slowly around the sickbay. Otoro was gaining strength every day. Meloka attended him constantly. So much so that the Doctor barely had to care for him at all. Meloka checked him and feed all of the information into the computer records. Not that there was much to check on. Otoro was ready to be released from sickbay. The only reason he was staying was because of Meloka.

He watched the two of them together, and he was certain of two things. First, Otoro was in love with Meloka and, second, Meloka did not return his love. He laughed ironically, thinking about how much their relationship reminded him of his own.

He looked away from them, thinking. It had been a week since the incident with Kathryn B’Elanna, and Seven had not returned to the living quarters. He had not encouraged her to do so. From all accounts, she was either in astrometrics or in the cargo bay. At least, she was not staying in Harry’s quarters.

He did not know what to do. He rechecked the bio-readings from her alcove and knew she was not regenerating well. He needed to check her, but she would not come in. She would not have anything to do with him or with Kathryn B’Elanna. She would not talk to the Captain or to B’Elanna. She would only talk to Harry and Ketaria.

He heard the doors swish open and Ketaria walked in, her face grim. She nodded hello to Otoro and Meloka and walked into his office.

"How did it go?"

"Not well." Ketaria sat down in the chair opposite him, exhausted, "She is not eating nor regenerating." She sighed, "I wish Kahkar were here." She quickly looked into the Doctor’s face, "No offense, Doctor."

"None taken. I wish he were here also. He could probably reach her."

"Doctor, she feels so guilty over what happened. She is afraid to be near Kathryn B’Elanna. She is afraid of hurting her again." Ketaria took a deep breath, "And, she is embarrassed to see you because of what she did to Kathryn B’Elanna."

He looked at her, his eyes narrowing, "Embarrassed?"

"Yes. Embarrassed." Ketaria propped her elbow on the arm of her chair and held her head in her hand, "She said you are a good father. She says you would never have hurt the child like she did."

His expression was one of genuine surprise, "She really said that?"

She nodded her head, "Yes. That is what she said."

He sat a moment, his eyes moving from side to side. Finally, he pushed himself back from his desk, holding his arms fully extended, "Where is she?"

"In the cargo bay."

He stood, "I’m going to go see her."

"Doctor…."

"No. I have let this go long enough. We need to talk." He stood up, "Will you take Kathryn B’Elanna with you tonight?"

"Of course, Doctor." She stood, "What do you have planned?"

"I don’t know. But first, I am going to go talk to my wife." He turned and walked out of his office.

Ketaria watched him go, a frown on her face. Then, it dissolved into a small smile, and she nodded her approval.

He saw her the minute the doors opened. Before she had a chance to react to the opening doors, he saw her standing, one hand on the console. Her normally rigid body was standing slumped, her head hanging low. He stopped, aching for her. Then, she turned and saw him, her body immediately straightening and turned from him.

He walked up to her, moving around the console so that he faced her, "Seven, we need to talk."

She dropped her head and would not look at him, her voice cold when she spoke, "I have no desire to talk to you."

"Seven!" His voice was harsh, and her head came up despite herself. He continued, his voice now almost angry, "You cannot hide from me forever. Like it or not, we have a marriage, and that marriage has produced a child we are both responsible for. Regardless of what happens to our marriage or of what happens to us, we have to think about what is best for Kathryn B’Elanna. You running from this problem will not help her."

"My being around her will not help her."

"Being away from her helps her even less. You are her mother, and she needs you."

She quickly looked away from him and he could see her fighting with herself for control. Finally, she said, "I hurt her."

His tone softened, "Yes. You did hurt her. But you did not mean to. And," he walked around the console to move closer to her, "that was not your fault. I should have told you about her special abilities. If there is anyone to blame here, it is me. And I am sorry for that, Seven. I let both of you down."

"No." She quickly looked up at him, "You…are a good father. You would never hurt her."

"A good father would not have put you in the situation of finding out about her mental abilities in the way you did. It was not fair to either of you. I hope you can forgive me for that."

"There is nothing to forgive."

"I think there is."

They stood, staring at each other and for the first time, he saw her eyes soften as she looked at him. He took a chance, "Seven, I know you are not regenerating well. I am concerned about you. Will you let me check you?"

After what seemed like forever, she gave him a slight nod of her head. He waived his hand, indicating she should lead them out of the cargo bay, and they walked silently toward sickbay. 

As soon as they entered, he led her over to the central biobed, "Lie down and let me run a complete diagnostic." She positioned herself on the biobed. He leaned over her slightly, "Okay, Seven, I am going to activate the biobed. Are you ready? She nodded and he activated the bed, watching her eyes as the extensions came up over her. She laid still but he saw the familiar fear come into her eyes. "This won’t take long, Seven. I will hurry as much as I can."

He continued to talk to her as he ran his tests. As soon as he was finished, he deactivated the bed and the extensions withdrew. He offered her his hand and she quickly grabbed to it, pulling herself into a sitting position on the side of the bed, working to control her breathing. He stood still, completely aware of the fact she was holding tightly to his hand. Suddenly, she looked at her hand wrapped tightly around his and raised her eyes to his. He waited. Slowly, she lessened her grip and slid her hand away. He gave her a smile and turned from her to read the results of the scans. 

"Well, other than the fact that you have not been regenerating nor eating well, you appear to be in good health." He walked back to stand in front of her, "That is good news."

"Yes."

"Seven," he took a deep breath, "you were regenerating better in your bed. I would like for you to try regenerating there tonight." When she hesitated, he added, "Ketaria has Kathryn B’Elanna for the night, so you will not have to worry about seeing her, and I will sleep in the other room." He paused, then added, his voice firm, " I am telling you to do this as your doctor."

She put her head down and nodded. He could almost sense her relief.

"Okay. If you would, sit here for a few minutes. I need to take care of a couple of things in my office and then, we will go to our quarters." Without waiting for a response, he turned and left her.

She watched him walk away from her, oddly relieved to be in the sickbay and knowing she would sleep in the bed tonight. Trying to regenerate in the alcove had been unsettling. Her cycle had been constantly interrupted with fragments of memories, all disjointed and some frightening. She glanced over her shoulder, looking at the Doctor working in his office. Her eyes stayed on him as he worked and she noticed how exact his movements were, and how his forehead furrowed as he concentrated on his work. There was something comforting about his expressions. She took a quick breath and turned away, suddenly aware of a figure approaching her. She turned her head in the direction of the figure who walked up to her and stood directly in front of her.

"You are Seven."

"Yes."

There was a pause, "You are Borg."

"Yes."

The eyes looked her up and down, measuring her. She started to grow uncomfortable under the intense gaze.

"He did not tell me you were Borg."

Seven frowned, "I was separated from the collective."

The eyes did not waiver from her face, "He loves you."

Seven looked quickly away, glancing over her shoulder at the Doctor working. Finally, she raised her chin and looked back at the eyes holding her face and responded, "Yes, he does."

The eyes changed, "That does not make you happy."

The comment took her by surprise, "I…." She did not know how to answer.

The eyes looked past her to the Doctor, and Seven saw them change again, this time, their expression softened. "He is a good man. You are fortunate to be loved by 

him." Then, the eyes drifted back to focus on her face, their expression hardening but she did not say anything else.

They were staring at each other when his voice broke the tension, "Oh, I’m sorry. I should have introduced you." He walked up to them, "Did you introduce yourselves?"

The eyes moved to look at the Doctor, and Seven saw them soften again, "Not really, Doctor, although I know she is your wife."

"Yes, Meloka, this is Seven. Seven, this is Meloka. She was one of those we rescued from the ship that exploded."

She watched as he smiled at the figure standing in front of her. She noticed the look that passed between them. For some reason, the look they shared unsettled her. She quickly looked down before bringing her eyes back to look into the eyes that were now holding hers intently. She was growing increasingly uncomfortable. 

The Doctor was smiling at the figure, "Meloka is the ship’s program. Or rather, was the ship’s program." He gave the figure a warm smile. "Right now, I have downloaded her into Voyager’s systems." He gave them both a big grin, "I haven’t thought about it before, but I guess it is safe to say she is a temporary roommate." He laughed at his own joke.

Seven turned her attention to Meloka, somewhat surprised, "You are a hologram?"

"Yes."

They once again stared at each other. Then, the Doctor broke the silence, "If you will excuse us, Meloka, I need to get Seven back to our quarters. She needs to eat and then to regenerate."

"Of course, Doctor." She moved to allow Seven room to get off the biobed, but not by much. 

Seven slid by her, trying to shrink herself as she did. She glanced up at the Doctor, noticing that he was still smiling at Meloka. She moved to stand beside him, putting him between herself and Meloka. She saw that he continued to look at the other hologram.

"I will be in my quarters, Meloka. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call me." His voice was warm and friendly, "I will return immediately."

"Thank you, Doctor." 

Seven noticed the gentleness of her response, the tone softer and kinder than it had been when it had been addressed to her. Her eyes went to his face and saw that he was looking intently into Meloka’s face. She noticed it took him a minute to turn from the hologram to her.

"Let’s go, Seven." His voice had changed. It was not as warm as it had been when he was talking to Meloka. It was more guarded and deeper. She nodded, took a deep breath and walked with him out of the sickbay. She wanted to look back at the hologram, but she would not allow herself to do so. But she knew the eyes were locked on her as she left. She felt them measuring her, judging her. She glanced up at the Doctor’s face again, noticing it now carried a grim expression, the softness and friendliness from a few minutes ago gone. She pulled her eyes away and forced herself to look forward.

There was something about this she did not like

Harry Kim was running. His body was covered in sweat, his legs rubbery, his lungs aching for air. He was starting to get dizzy from exhaustion. Suddenly, he stumbled and fell to the track, rolling to his back, working desperately to breathe. He was totally exhausted.

Maybe now he would be able to sleep.

He forced himself to his feet and wobbled to the center of the track, grabbed a towel and left the holodeck.

Still gasping for air, he made his way toward his quarters. He stumbled in and fell onto his bed, not ever bothering to take a sonic shower. He wanted to send his exhausted body to sleep as soon as possible, hoping that his exhaustion would crowd out his dreams.

It did not work.

They entered their living quarter and she immediately noticed how quiet it was. She was surprised to realize that she did not like the silence. 

He immediately moved to the replicator and placed an order. Once it was done, he picked it up and carried it to the table, "Please come sit down, Seven."

She hesitated, "I do not care to eat."

His faced hardened even more, "Seven, you need to eat. Now, please come over here and sit down."

She moved toward the table and slowly sat down. She eyed the meal in front of her, then looked up at him, "I…do not think I can eat."

He sat down across the table and looked at her, his voice stern, "Seven, if you do not eat, I am going to take you back to the sickbay and make certain you receive the nutritional supplements your body needs. You can either try to eat this or we go back to sickbay. Now, which is it?"

The tone of his voice surprised her. She blinked at him, watching his eyes. Finally, she picked up the fork and took a bite. She chewed slowly and worked to swallow the food. Once she did so, she looked back at him.

"Try another bite. It will get easier. You have been denying your body what it needs, and you may find that eating actually makes you feel a little sick. If you can get down a little food right now, it will be easier to eat the next time. Try to finish what is on your plate, and then you can regenerate. You probably will find that you will wake up hungry."

She lowered her head and concentrated on her meal. After a minute, he started talking again.

"I remember when you were pregnant with Kathryn B’Elanna." He laughed, "You were so sick the first few months, but you would force yourself to eat because it was good for the baby. We were so worried about the balance between your pregnancy and your implants that we decided not to give you medicine to help the nausea. You did not want any unnecessary chemicals in your body. You said you would be fine." She was eating and watching his face as his talked, "Oh, you were fine. You would eat and then, I would often end up holding your head as you lost your meal. We spent a lot of time in the bathroom those days." He chuckled, "But you never complained." His face took on a pensive look, and she watched as his eyes looked back to a past time. For the first time, she wanted desperately to remember those times. She searched her memories, trying hard to remember anything that would help her link to that time in their lives. But, there was nothing.

"Oddly enough, those times made us even closer. We would sit on the bathroom floor and you would lean against me, resting between…" he looked at her plate, frowning for a moment, then grinned and continued, "episodes, and we would talk about her. We wondered what she would be like when she was born. We talked about who she would look like. I just didn’t want her to be bald." He laughed as he remembered, "You wanted her to look like me, but I knew she would look just like you. I knew she would be beautiful." He glanced away, his face softened by the memories, "You said that, more that anything, you wanted her to have a seventh birthday party because you had never had one." At that comment, a pained look crossed his face and he looked at her, "I never told you, but I wanted to cry when you said that. I had never wanted so much to take that part of your life away from you and protect you. I would have given up everything if it would have made a difference, if it would have given you a seventh birthday party."

He stopped, and she realized he was unable to continue. She swallowed hard, but this time, it was not from trying to force her meal down. She stared at his face, waiting. Finally, he shook himself and looked at her smiling, "Well, I see you have finished your meal. Good for you." He stood, "Now, it is time for you to regenerate." 

She stood and started to walk with him toward their bedroom. Without thinking, he reached out and took her by the elbow. She stopped, and he realized immediately what he had done. They froze, his hand still on her elbow. She looked down at his hand wrapped lightly around her arm. She looked at it a long moment, then raised her eyes to his, but she did not pull away. He gently led her into the bedroom, and she moved with him without protest.

"Lie down, Seven." He moved to activate the headboard. He reached for a blanket and covered her with it. Then, he pulled up a chair, grabbing his medical tricorder. "I am going to stay here for a little while and monitor you. I want to make certain there aren’t any problems." When her eyes cut to her, he said, "I am here as your doctor, Seven, not as your husband. You do not have to be concerned about anything."

She blinked as her eyes searched his face. Finally, she said, "I am not concerned, Doctor."

He gave her a small smile, "Sweet dreams, Seven."

At that, she straightened and closed her eyes.

Meloka wandered around the sickbay, circling the console in the center. She looked over at Otoro, peacefully sleeping on the biobed. Her eyes concentrated on his face, thinking about the first time that she had seen him.

She had always been the program for the ship that was no more. But the ship had had many masters. Otoro had become the last master as a result of a trade. The idea of the ship’s program having a physical presence had been enticing to him, or that had been what he told her. He had originally intended to sell the ship as an oddity to collectors in a different region of space, but for some reason, he had never managed to get to that section of space. Instead, he had flown the ship around, exploring worlds and trading goods from one planet to another. She did not know where he came from or where he was going. She had never been interested.

She knew other things about him. She knew his dreams and his desires. She knew he loved sunsets on the worlds with two suns. She knew he hated rising time but loved to prowl around his ship when the other crewmembers would be in repose. He often used that time to talk to her. Since she did not sleep, she never minded the times when he would call her to him to talk. Running the ship had not taken much of her programming. At times, she almost welcomed his conversation.

Most of the time he carried a small crew, but there had been times when it had been just the two of them. During those times, he would call her to the bridge and she would sit beside him at the helm and converse while he piloted the ship. Oddly enough, she had found those times…gratifying. 

Otoro was a good person. Most people would not have risked their life for a hologram. She had been concerned for him when the Doctor had brought her back online in this sickbay. She had been so focused on him it had taken her a while before she fully understood the ship had been completely destroyed. She, also, had not been aware of the Doctor. 

Finding out he, too, was a hologram was a shock. He had seemed so…real. His level of interaction with the crew was also surprising. 

And, he was married to the Borg.

She had never thought that a hologram could marry or feel or love. But he did all of those things. She eyed the center console again. She had watched Lieutenant Torres-Paris work on the Doctor’s program, doing maintenance checks. She glanced around, then approached the console, running her hand lightly over the controls. She knew the passwords to the Doctor’s program.

She stood, considering her actions for a moment. She did not want to change anything. That would be a lack of respect. But, she was curious about what his program looked like. What would his emotional subroutines look like? Was his programming like hers? She stopped running her hand over the keys, stood still for the longest time, then activated the console.

In a matter of minutes, she had complete access to his program. 

Her eyes read down through the code, surprised that, in many ways, it was similar to hers. But his was more complex, more intricate. It was a beautiful program. She accessed his emotional subroutines, noticing how carefully linked they were with the rest of his program. It explained a lot about his human actions. She had watched carefully. There was no difference between the way he acted and the way other crewmembers acted. If one did not know, it was impossible to tell he was a hologram. 

She wondered if his routines could be copied into hers. Quickly, she accessed her own program, copied one of his minor emotional subroutines and inserted it in her own. As soon as it was invoked, she giggled. Then, she stopped for a moment before attempting to invoke the routine on her own. It worked beautifully.

Her eyes studied the Doctor’s program, reading the different subroutines, noting their functions. To feel. To love. To laugh. To cry. To have real emotions available to her by simply copying them into her own program. She glanced over her shoulder again, looking at Otoro and then at the sickbay doors. Turning her attention back to the console, she studied it intently.

Finally, her hands went to work.

She was on her side, sleeping with her arm stretched out, reaching for someone. But that someone was not there. She slowly opened her eyes and stared at the empty spot in the bed, unable to figure out why it felt wrong. Then, she rolled over, her eyes drifting to the empty chair still pulled up near the bed. That, too, felt wrong.

She was starting to pull herself into a sitting position on the bed when he came through the door.

"Hello, sleepyhead. You have almost regenerated the morning away."

She was struggling to focus on him when he placed a tray across her lap. She looked at it, sleepy-eyed, then looked at him, "What time is it?"

"It is ten hundred hours." She looked at him in surprise and he continued, "I thought you might just sleep all morning."

"I need to report to astrometrics."

"No, you don’t. I called you in sick today."

"But I am not sick."

"No, but you did need to get your rest so I told the Captain I had you on bed rest today." She started to protest, but he cut her off, "Doctor’s orders. I wanted you to wake up on your own and to have a leisurely breakfast." He pointed to the tray on her lap, "And that is your leisurely breakfast."

"This is inappropriate."

He grinned at her, "I knew you would say that. That is exactly what you used to say when I would bring you breakfast in bed." He leaned forward, his hands clasped together, "But you eventually learned to enjoy it." He waived his hand at the food, "Eat. Doctor’s orders."

She looked at him to protest, and he cocked an eye at her. Her mouth twitched slightly, but she picked up the fork and took a bite. After a few bites, she looked up at him, "Did I eat…breakfast in bed often?"

"Only about once a week. The Captain arranged the duty shifts so that we could enjoy our days off together and for at least one of those days, I would get up and fix you breakfast in bed. At first, you did not want to eat it. You told me it was inappropriate. Then you referred to it as self-indulgent. I told you I was pampering you, and you could allow me that little pleasure at least once in a while. So, you went along with it to please me. Eventually, though, I think you looked forward to it."

He leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out, relaxing. She concentrated on eating, then asked, "Did you watch me all night?"

He concentrated on his shoes, finally nodding, "Yes, I did."

She did not respond, but continued eating. After a minute, she put down the fork and took a sip of tea. In a very quiet voice, she said, "Tell me about what we did on our days off."

He cut his eyes to her, then shrugged slightly, "Oh, we would do different things. Sometimes, we would go on away missions to study a planet or we would spend some time on the holodeck, having a picnic. Sometimes, we would simply stay in our quarters. I would listen to opera and you would study something you have been working on." He looked at the wall and smiled, "And on some days…." He stopped suddenly.

She waited. When he didn’t finish, she said, "What?"

He was studying his feet again, but he did not respond.

"On some days what?"

"On some days, I would bring you breakfast in bed and…." His voice trailed off again.

"And?"

He looked at her, almost reluctant to continue. He was afraid of ruining the mood, but she was holding his eyes, and he knew she wanted him to continue. He took a deep breath, "And, sometimes…afterward…" he was struggling for the right words, "we would…love each other."

Her expression was befuddled and he knew she did not understand what he was telling her. Suddenly, her look cleared and she caught her breath, looking away from him. Then, she said, "We…?"

He cleared his throat, concerned, but answered the question she could not bring herself to ask, "Yes."

She was quiet for a long time, then spoke in a low voice, "I…wondered."

His eyes widened, and he let out a quick breath, stifling a surprised laugh. "It never crossed my mind you…would not realize." He looked back down at his feet, "But why would you realize? I should have thought about that." He turned his attention back to her, "Yes, Seven, we enjoyed a sexual relationship. We loved each other very much and expressed that love in many ways. Sexually was once of those ways." He paused, "And to answer the other question you have not asked, yes, I am fully functional. You may examine my sexual subroutines if you would like."

"No," she said immediately, "I believe you." Her eyes focused on the tray still on her lap, "It is just…difficult to comprehend."

He felt her hold her breath, almost afraid of his response. He forced himself to smile at her, "I understand, Seven. It is not an easy thing to…assimilate." He grinned at her, hoping for a positive reaction to his pun. He was rewarded with a hint of a smile appearing at the corners of her mouth. He took a chance and continued talking, "Even after Kathryn B’Elanna was born, we would try to enjoy those special times. We would get up early to try to make time for each other. It was not always easy for you and a lot of times, I would simply serve you breakfast in bed, and we would hold each other afterward. You were not very strong in those days."

"Kahkar told me."

He nodded, "But you always said losing a little more sleep was less important than keeping each other close." He laughed, "I never argued about that. I got up and gladly made you breakfast. The only time you did not eat it in bed was during the last month of your pregnancy, but that was because your stomach was too large to make doing so comfortable. You got pretty big in your last month." He stopped, trying to decide if he should continue. Finally, he said, "I have some holo-images of you during your pregnancy. Would you like to see them?"

He watched as her hand went to her head, and she frowned. He waited, watching her carefully, his own forehead furrowing in concern. Then, her hand slowly came down, and she looked up at him, nodding. He got up and left the room, returning with a book. He reached down and took the tray from her lap, placing the book down on it instead. Putting the tray on the desk, he pulled his chair closer and opened the book, careful not to touch her in any way. He sensed how tentative this moment was and how easy it would be to frighten her.

"Here is when you were first pregnant. I took this as a sort of before. I had just confirmed that you were pregnant, so I took a baseline picture of you. I wanted us to be able to record your progress." He looked up into her eyes, "Kahkar had warned us that there was a good chance you would not carry Kathryn B’Elanna to term, but, for some reason, neither of us thought you would lose her. We always believed she would come into this world and into our lives." He put his head down, "What we did not realize was that you would be the one we would almost lose."

She looked at his face and listened to his words. She frowned slightly, forcing herself not to raise her hand to her head. It was starting to pound, but she did not want to do anything to make him stop. She wanted to hear about the life she could not remember.

He continued through the book and she watched as holo-images of the person she recognized as herself changed, the belly becoming swollen, the face gaunt, and the eyes more and more tired. It was her lying on the sofa, the belly protruding more and more. Then, it was her on some device that she was using to walk on. He was explaining it was how she got her exercise after she decided she had gotten too big to "waddle" around Voyager anymore. He had laughed when he said that and she could tell he was enjoying telling her about this time and of reliving the experience. She worked to control her breathing, willing herself to listen.

"This," he pointed to the last picture, "is probably my favorite picture. I took this about a week before Kathryn B’Elanna was born."

She was standing, sideways, but her head was turned, looking into the holo-imager. Her stomach was very large and almost provided a shelf for her to rest her arms on. She was wearing a loose garment with a top that fell just below her hips. Her hair was down, held away from her face by something in her hair. Even though her stomach was large, she could tell how thin she was. Her face was drawn and her cheeks sunken. The lines around her eyes were deep and showed how tired and worn she was.

But her eyes were alive. She looked carefully at them and could see, even in the holo-image, a happiness and a peacefulness that were undeniable. It was possible to see the contentment she felt. More than anything else she had been told or had seen on Voyager, this picture gave her an insight into the person she had been, and what she had felt. This was a picture of a person who loved deeply, who would sacrifice anything, and who regretted nothing. She could tell that this person had been looking at the figure behind the holo-imager and was looking at that figure with an absolute and undeniable love.

He watched her face, suddenly seeing the pain that was showing around her eyes and noticed the small beads of sweat starting to form on her forehead, which was beginning to furrow deeply. He reached for the book, "I think that might be enough for today."

She put her hand down on the book to keep him from taking it from her, lifting her eyes from it to his face, her breath starting to quicken, and her eyes to lose their focus. He stood quickly, grabbing the nearby hypospray, made a few quick adjustments and reached to place it against her neck.

She stopped his hand and looked, almost desperately, into his eyes. He stopped, not quite certain of her reaction. Finally, she pulled her hand away and turned her head, and he quickly administered the medication and then reached to grab her shoulders and help her lie back on the bed. He pulled the blanket over her and sat down on the chair, scanning her. He watched her eyes, seeing how they remained locked on his. He could see her fighting the effects of the medication, her eyes almost searching his face. Finally, her eyes closed and she gave into the medication, her body relaxing as she dropped into a deep sleep. 

He watched her, monitoring her vital signs carefully. His eyes narrowed as he read the diagnostics. Then, he watched her face as it slowly softened and he knew she was fully asleep. He wanted to lean over and kiss her, to hold her close to him and to protect her from her pain.

But he would not allow himself.