Chapter Text
A.N: “Hearts don’t break down the middle”, a beautiful line from Normani’s new song “Fair”. I think it sums up this little story well. Btw, the song is great. I love it.
This takes place in season one of Picard, early in the R/7 relationship. I haven’t seen the newest season. So yeah…I know there is a bunch of character development for Raffi that I’m missing, and I’ve never written Raffi before, so I tried my best.
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Chapter 1
Dread thickened the air, sitting stale and heavy between the bulkheads of their room on the Sirena. Two people falling in love yet so lost to one another. One couldn’t trust and the other struggled to let herself feel. Their stubbornness kept them living in their old ways, together yet separate from one another. But truth stirred in their connection.
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Raffi’s crying finally settled. She’d been trying to contact her son for weeks, each time receiving no response. This time it got to her, and her crying lasted for hours. Seven laid with her after a while; her hand protective at the small of Raffi’s back even as Raffi’s angry words stung in her memory.
"Who are you? I don’t really know.”
“If you’re just going to stand and watch me cry, why are you here?”
“There is no solution. Things won’t magically get better. You don’t know my son.”
Positive talking. “Things will get better”, “There is a solution”, someone once told her humans like to hear such things. Consolation and validation were key to handling emotional conflicts, but Raffi refuted her every word, only getting angrier.
“I get it. The robot brain and all prevents you from fully understanding humanity…”
Then her anger turned to tears.
“Just…leave me alone.”
Seven did as she asked, gave her space. It was upsetting to listen to her weep for hours on end. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel relief on the other side of the door. A few hours later she returned to the room and climbed into the bed. She tried to sleep, close her eyes and melt in the company of the woman beside her. It didn’t work. Why did Raffi get so angry? Anger, sadness, there was no point to let it dwell. Those emotions led to spiraling outcomes, a continuous cycle of wasted time. If a problem presented itself, the only thing to do was solve it as quick as possible—
Bjayzl’s throat in her grasp. The satisfying gasp Bjayzl made as her hand tightened around her neck. She could’ve strangled her in moments—
Seven sucked in a breath at that thought and her eyes flew open, her heart racing with adrenaline. She rolled to her back and watched the ceiling. The fire that ran through her veins the instant she saw Bjayzl was too tempting to let go. Stupid human. Those two words were her only thought as she stared into Bjayzl’s wide eyes. Bjayzl didn’t understand who it was she’d betrayed, how she could rip her apart if she tried.
Seven sat up, planting her bare feet on the ship’s cold floor. Her hands braced the bed’s edge, and she hung her head.
The last time she lost herself in emotions, Icheb died. Those memories never ceased. They haunted her waking hours and her dreams. They weren’t dreams. Not for her. They were something worse, reality, that replayed over and over. The only way to escape her guilts was to rip the cortical node from her head. A simple set of code introduced to her memory cortex...it could’ve bypassed those memories with ease. But she couldn’t do it, she didn’t deserve to erase it all away after what she did. In honor of Icheb’s suffering, she kept the memories as they were.
What a stupid thing it was to get involved with her. It was too soon but she didn’t know that yet. She needed something to replace the emptiness left behind after Kathryn. She needed to feel human.
Seven stood with conviction, dressed, and left the room. She strode to the transporter with a furrowed brow and keyed in the memorized coordinates. She materialized moments later, a dirt path at her feet gently lit by the moon’s silver glow. She started forward, no need to look at her dark surroundings, she knew them very well. She eyed the farmhouse in the distance, the lights on in the living room and kitchen, showing through the windows.
At the house’s porch her pace slowed, and she hesitated at the door.
She pressed the doorbell.
“Coming.”
Her voice came from the other side and Seven’s chest tightened. With a clench of her jaw, she cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. The door opened and the woman appeared, streaks of gray starting in her auburn hair. Those steely blue eyes caught her off guard even now.
“Seven? What are you doing here?”
Seven averted her gaze and slid past her, ignoring the purse of the woman’s lips.
"I need to think, away from the ship."
"You're on a ship?"
Seven stood in the foyer as the familiarity of her surroundings brought her to what once was. The door closed behind her, and Kathryn started into the kitchen. Seven followed close behind, sizing her, scanning her person as she had done so many times.
“You’re still in your uniform?”
“I got home not too long ago.”
“You’re working late. Why?”
“What else do you expect a vice admiral to do?”
In the kitchen, Kathryn pulled a cup from the cabinet and filled it with coffee from a metal carafe warming on the stove. It was always coffee, never anything else. The roasted bittersweet smell greeted Seven when she entered the house, but it was second nature to her senses.
Kathryn set the cup in the middle of the breakfast table and gestured to it with a nod. "Still hot." She turned and placed the carafe on the stove, crossing her arms after, her hip pressed to the counter's edge.
"Only you would drink coffee this late."
Kathryn said nothing in response as Seven pulled out a chair and sat.
“Still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
Seven took the coffee cup with a light grasp. She'd learned shortly into their marriage how sensitive to her touch fine china could be. "I met someone."
"Good." Kathryn said too quickly, as though her response was pre-planned.
"She is accusing me of being distant."
"I'm not surprised. Surely you can't be either."
"No."
“Does she know why?”
“She knows enough.”
Silence sat between them.
"What's bothering you Seven?"
"She cries..." Seven abandoned the cup and stood from the table, starting a pace into the living room. "...and gets angry at me...“for not being enough”."
Kathryn watched her with a stoic expression.
"I..." Seven struggled. "I don't know what she wants me to do."
"Well, there has to be a reason."
"For?"
"Her crying. Support her on that—"
"I don't know what else to say." Seven refuted a little louder. She didn’t come to hear Kathryn state the obvious. She tried support already. It didn’t work.
Their gazes locked and Kathryn looked down, contemplating for a long moment. "I know Icheb's death was hard for you—"
"Don't." Seven warned as Kathryn started with a soft knowing tone. Their gazes met again, fury burning hot behind Seven's, her chest beginning to heave at sordid memories.
"I guess I didn't realize how hard—"
"This was a mistake." Seven briskly started past her.
"Seven."
She stopped in the entry way.
"You came here. I'm only trying to help."
Seven’s expression softened, tears threatening to well behind her eyes. She hadn't cried in years and wasn't about to start now.
"Have you told her about him?"
"No. And I don't intend to.” Seven turned an ear over her shoulder. “What's the point reliving that memory? It's bad enough I can't forget it."
"Exactly. That's more of a reason to come to terms with it."
"What's there to come to terms with? He's dead."
"Don't let the coffee get cold."
Seven turned to her, eyes wider at Kathryn's sudden change of subject. How could she talk about Icheb and coffee in the same moment?
"Sit. Finish it. If you need me, I'll be upstairs."
"What—"
"You came here to think, right?"
Seven's brow furrowed.
"So, think. You don't need me here for that." Kathryn brushed past her and left the room with a weak squeeze to Seven's shoulder. Seven turned, eyes following Kathryn up the stairs and to the bedroom where the door closed to a sliver.
Kathryn didn’t know. She couldn’t know the truth behind Icheb’s death. She’d blame her, see her mistake, and never look at her the same again. Everything between them would change. All Kathryn knew was that he died on an away mission. Not about how his body was torn apart for parts, nor about the relationship she’d rushed into shortly after their marriage ended.
“What did you lead him into Seven?”
“I didn’t know this would happen.”
“Weren’t you watching him? He trusted you.”
She’d ran through the imaginary conversation several times, thinking about what she’d say and what words would work best. She wanted to tell her, needed to confide, but couldn’t. Besides, what good would it do now?
Seven turned back to the kitchen, looking at the cup of coffee with pity, its wafting steam having dissipated where it sat alone. She set her jaw and looked away. Why did she bother coming here when the person she sought help from left her to her own ruminations? She could ruminate on the ship. She could think about why they ripped Icheb apart and left him for dead. She could think about who led them to him.
A sick, metallic taste rose to the back of her throat. She eyed the coffee again. This time she trudged to it and sat at the table, ignoring a tremor as she took the cup in her hands. How could she sip coffee over the memory of Icheb’s death?
His blood stained her hands, yet she pulled the cup to her lips slow, contemplating her actions the whole way, even as the bittersweet liquid entered her mouth.
There. She'd done it. She hadn't wasted it. Kathryn would be proud. Seven held the cup, her lip quivering against her will as her eyes watered.
His blood stained her hands.
Bjayzl. Naïve, she had trusted the wrong person and Icheb paid the price. Tears leaked from the corner of her eye, forcing her to abandon the cup as she put her face in her hands. She had opportunities to save him, but she ignored warnings of Bjayzl's intentions. How the woman mulled over her implants with intense fascination during their relationship—she hated to call it that. She could've spat her disdain.
"Are there others like you?"
She'd turned a blind eye, fooled by selfish pleasures and needs while a plan was put in motion behind her back. Bjayzl admired her for her monetary value and distracted her with...love. Seven's lip curled at the thought.
Seven looked to the innocent cup of coffee, her palms wet. She wiped her eyes. A thought dawned on her, but she didn't have time to pursue it as Kathryn entered. Her tears didn't come often but when they did Kathryn would be there. Arms would encircle her, or a hand would rub her back. None of which happened now. Kathryn leaned against the entryway and kept to herself; her brow turned up at the inward corners.
"You can't blame yourself for his death."
Kathryn said those words as though she knew the truth, but there was no way she could’ve. Seven kept her gaze down, she couldn't face Kathryn like this, weakened and defeated by mere memories.
"She has a son too." Seven voiced that dawning thought with a gentle strain and cleared her throat. "He won't talk to her." She wiped away remnants of her sorrow, her weight against the table at her forearms. " I don't know much about him. She doesn't like to talk about it. "
"And she doesn't know about Icheb."
Seven stayed silent, her gaze locked on the table.
"I see an opportunity. Do you?"
At the positive swell in Kathryn’s tired voice, Seven smirked. "For what?" She knew the answer but played along with Kathryn's theory.
"For growth."
Seven met her gaze, their history in Kathryn's eyes. It was hard not to break at it. The Captain, the Admiral, and Kathryn herself, they had all been patient and kind. Not perfect, but neither was she. "You've been good to me. Thank you."
Kathryn nodded. "You should head back."
"I will..." Seven looked to the coffee, the cup lukewarm in her hands. Kathryn was right, it really was a forgiving abyss. It was so easy to get lost staring into the dark liquid. Her thoughts would stir like its small ripples. As long as she held the cup, they’d never calm. Only leaving it without a touch would ease it to a stagnant still. "...when I'm done thinking."
"My study is yours if you want a quiet place."
"Thank you."
Kathryn turned to leave.
"Have you...met anyone?"
Kathryn smirked. "My luck's been a little raw compared to yours. Don't worry about me Seven." She left the kitchen, her footsteps fading from the foyer, softer with each step until silence befell the house.
Seven inwardly sighed. She downed the coffee and stood with the cup in one hand, turning the stove off with the other. She rinsed the cup in the sink and set it aside on the drying rack, drying her hands on the hand towel that was always in the same place—crumpled on the counter. She folded the towel in half longways and slid it over the stove's handle then walked to the exit slow, turning off the kitchen lights on her way out.
'I'm sorry we didn't work out.' Seven leaned against the kitchen entryway looking to the top of the staircase. The light that trickled from beneath the door—now closed—went out.
Phoebe had long since left the house behind after she married. Kathryn—the only woman who’d seen her cry—remained alone. Seven sighed. 'I should go.'
At the front door she grabbed the handle, stopping at a nagging guilt. 'I need more time.'
Seven backed away from the door and turned to the staircase. She started up and walked to that door from which the light had disappeared. She pressed her forehead to the door in debate, her hand on the knob. They'd seen each other through so much but Kathryn wasn’t hers anymore.
*knock knock*
No answer.
She knocked harder.
"Come in." Kathryn’s voice crawled out.
Seven pushed open the door and Kathryn stirred, shifting beneath her bedsheets with a tired gaze. "You're still here?"
With lips pressed together tight, Seven crossed the room and sat on Kathryn’s side of the bed, her gaze turning to the woman sitting up with the rub of her eye.
“What is it?”
Seven opened an arm.
"No."
Seven waited.
"Will it make you feel better?"
"It will." Her impatience got the better of her and Seven took Kathryn's arm, pulling her in, pulling her close. She wrapped her other arm around the small frame in her grasp and she closed her eyes, her chin over Kathryn's shoulder. She breathed an easy but guilty sigh. "I didn't leave because of you." She hesitated. "I left because I couldn't get through to you."
"Story of my life." Kathryn pressed a hand between them. She smiled but it was short lived as they separated. "Sounds like you have something good. Go…before you mess it up." Kathryn pulled her arm from Seven’s grasp. "She's probably wondering where you are. And trust me, you don't want her tracing the transporter coordinates."
Seven clenched her jaw, swallowing her shame.
"Go." With a hand Kathryn nudged her off the bed and Seven followed suit. She walked to the door and stopped, her hand idle on the door jamb.
"Goodnight Kathryn. Take care of yourself. "
"You know how to reach me if you need anything."
Seven silently nodded and left the room.
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Seven breathed a sigh in the Sirena’s transporter room. The whole visit was surreal. This wasn’t the first time—or second—that she’d reached out to Kathryn for advice, but it was the first time she mentioned a new person in her life. Kathryn responded well, very diplomatic. If Kathryn held any ill-notions, she couldn’t tell. Kathryn was that good at separating her feelings from the task at hand.
Seven started to Raffi's room, the door opening at her recognized biosignature. She stood in the room, looming by the door like some monster in the night; her brow tense as she watched Raffi's sleeping form. She moved over and sat on the bed, her hand giving Raffi's shoulder a gentle shake.
Raffi stirred. "Seven?" She sat up and Seven readied her words.
"We need to talk."
Raffi sized her appearance, a furrow emerging on her brow. "Where have you been?" She asked as though she already knew the answer. Raffi slid out of bed and began to pace in front of her but Seven stayed quiet.
"You think I don't know about you disappearing at night."
Seven looked down. "I just needed some advice."
"I'm sorry if it bothers me that the person you go to for this "advice" is also your ex-wife, who you can't seem to move past." Raffi paused, with a hand on her hip. "God." She shook her head. "My luck with people. Maybe that's one part of your past you shouldn’t have told me."
Seven waited a few breaths, hoping the heat from Raffi's fire would simmer down.
"You always come in with that same smell." Raffi's eyes searched the room as though searching for a way to describe it until she gave up with a gentle scoff and shake of her head. "I never say anything. I don’t know you well enough yet." Raffi looked at her. "We have something…and I'm trying to trust you, but you keep running to her."
"This is not how I planned this would go."
"What did you think?" Raffi closed in looking at her with an incredulous gaze. "That you'd waltz in and we'd have a heart to heart after you disappeared to God knows where, doing God knows what." Her words rushed out laced with anxiety.
Seven waited, her gaze at her planted feet. "Did I ever tell you why she's important to me?" She looked up as Raffi scoffed.
"You didn't mince words there—"
"Raf." Seven caught her attention. "Listen." She commanded soft before she looked down again. "Without her...I wouldn't be here." Seven stood. She needed to move to think, to order her thoughts, say the right words, and deescalate the argument. She passed Raffi and paced in front of the door. "I'd still be stuck on a Borg cube in the middle of the Delta quadrant, oblivious to any kind of life, let alone one on Earth." Seven stopped and locked eyes with Raffi. "She gave me this. I barely knew what Earth was. I couldn't function without the Collective spewing orders in my head...not even feed myself." Seven sighed away those memories and turned away. "Kathryn was patient. Even through my...unbecoming moments." Seven clenched her jaw at the darker memories of her and Kathryn's relationship.
"So I should thank her?"
'Yes.' Seven's thought caught in her throat at Raffi's lingering hostility. Seven met her spiny gaze again but she approached and took Raffi's hand. "Just understand. That's all I want. I love you no less and I want us to work." Seven let go and looked down as Raffi’s eyes brightened at her words. "Yes......I do go to her for advice. I can't think of anyone else. She's always been there."
Raffi's hands rushed Seven's face, fingers pressing in at her cheeks. Seven staggered back at the plea in Raffi’s gaze. "Me. Just talk to me." Raffi pressed her forehead to Seven's, her eyes closed, and her mouth opened for words, but none came for a long moment. "I'll try...to understand...if it means that much to you."
Stilled by Raffi's sudden emotion Seven simply nodded.
Raffi lifted her gaze. "Look, I can sing praises for her all fucking day...but I want you to come back to me. Tell me if you need something. Can you do that?"
Seven nodded, her arms wrapping around Raffi's waist. She drew Raffi close and pressed her lips to Raffi's, reassurance surrounding their kiss. On Voyager, Kathryn once said she'd love many times in her life. She ignored the wisdom then.