Cruel and Unusual Punishment

By mizvoy

Part 5: Second Thoughts

September 2378 (Six months after the C/7 wedding)

Seven of Nine lay on a biobed at Starfleet medical as Voyager’s EMH performed the biweekly checkup that her Borg implants required. She barely heard the doctor’s banter as she stared at the ceiling tiles, biting back the words of impatience she wanted to shout at him. She reminded herself that he’d done all he could to restore her physical humanity and that she couldn’t blame him if there was nothing more to be done.

Since Voyager’s return, her resentment of this regular checkup had steadily increased, even though she often arrived at the clinic with blurred vision or other aches and pains that reminded her that these adjustments were a necessity. It had been an irritation on Voyager, but now, surrounded by millions of humans who could live their lives without such limitations, she found herself more impatient with the implants than she’d ever been before.

The doctor, on the other hand, was happier than he’d been in weeks. He had been on assignment to Jupiter station for the last three check-ups and had missed seeing her. He was oblivious to the fact that Seven found his cheery attitude a vexation.

“So, Seven, are you enjoying married life?” he asked as he scanned her ocular implant. His voice was carefully modulated, almost musical, but Seven found it irksome. “Is it living up to your expectations?”

“No, I don’t believe that it is,” she complained, taking advantage of their long friendship to voice the truth at last. “Marriage is not at all what I expected it to be.”

“What?” The doctor stepped back and stared at her, taking in the annoyed look in her eye. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m unsure if I can properly articulate the source of my discomfort.”

“Has Chakotay done something to upset you?”

“Not at all. He’s been very patient and kind. He says there is a natural period of adjustment when people marry and that we just have to keep the faith.”

“Wise advice, it seems to me. Didn’t you anticipate that such a drastic change would require an adjustment period?”

“I didn’t expect the adjustment to be so lengthy or so troubling.” Seven replied. She gave him a tortured look as she sat up on the biobed, pressing her hand against the exterior portion of her ocular implant.

“I haven’t finished the adjustments, Seven.”

“I want to talk about this first,” she demanded, narrowing her eyes. “I have not expressed my feelings to anyone but Chakotay, and it’s occurred to me that he is not an unbiased listener.”

The doctor lay the tricorder down on the biobed and nodded, willing to let her express her feelings. “I can see how you would feel that way.”

“In these six months, I have realized that my experience with committed personal relationships was extremely limited.”

“You were part of Voyager’s crew, and that was a large commitment.”

“Yes, I became part of the crew, but I made no commitments to one particular individual. Even my relationship with the captain was fraught with disagreement and conflict. I resented the way she seemed to interfere with my decisions and second guess my every move.”

“Hmm. And now Chakotay, as your husband, has the right to do just that—interfere with your plans and critique your choices.”

“Exactly. The claims that he makes on my person and my time have become very tedious and repetitive.” She sighed, rubbing a hand absently over her forehead. “Perhaps it was wrong for me to get married so soon after Voyager’s return.”

“You’re saying that you’re unhappy.”

“Not unhappy, just confused.” She took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Part of the traditional wedding ceremony states that ‘the two shall become one,’ but I haven’t felt that kind of unity with Chakotay. I grow tired of his presence and resent the complications he brings into my life.”

“The ceremony refers to a symbolic unity, Seven, not a complete joining like a Borg collective. You’ll naturally retain most of your individuality and develop your own circle of friends apart from each other.”

“I realize that, Doctor. I didn’t understand that he would remain such a stranger to me. I thought we would grow closer.”

“In time, you will. You just need to talk about your feelings with him. He’s a very wise and understanding person, you know.”

“Yes, he is, but even so, there are times when I’m sure he’s just saying what he thinks he should say instead of being truthful with me, and I find myself doing the same thing.”

“That seems fairly normal to me, Seven, until you become more secure in the marriage. Perhaps Chakotay is right and you should just give everything more time. It’s only been six months since the wedding,” he tried to sound upbeat. “The bloom is hardly off the rose.”

“If I had it to do over, I’d listen to the counselors and delay the wedding.”

The EMH put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You were convinced that the marriage was the right thing to do at the time.”

Seven sighed. “When the admiral told me that Chakotay and I were married in the admiral’s future, it seemed natural that we would be compatible in this timeline as well.”

“Aren’t you compatible?” The doctor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“I wonder if we are, to tell the truth.” She gave him a weak smile. “Every time I have tried to talk to him about my misgivings, he almost panics and pressures me to forego any further complaints.”

“Have you talked to Admiral Janeway about your doubts?”

Seven shook her head. “She’s even less receptive to my complaints than Chakotay is. She keeps telling me that he is a strong ally and an important advisor as I adjust to life on Earth, but I’m unsure how that makes him a good husband.”

“Are you saying that the admiral pushed you into the marriage?”

“She encouraged us to formalize our connection before the changes we were experiencing here damaged our relationship. Only afterward did it occur to me to ask whether that marriage was a happy one or not.”

The EMH stepped closer, lowering his voice to say quietly, “So you are unhappy?”

“I’m very unhappy and confused.” She stood up and walked to the examination room’s window, keeping her back to him to hide the pain in her eyes. “I didn’t realize that once we were married our relationship would be the focal point of our interactions with others.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I worked so hard to become an individual, but now I’m just half of a couple. Wherever I go, whatever I do, Chakotay is aware of whom I’m with and what I’m doing or he assumes that he’s welcome to accompany me.”

“You miss having separate friends?”

She shook her head. “That’s not it.”

“You resent the control he exerts over your free time?”

“No, he’s quite flexible about my schedule.”

“You get tired of his company?”

She turned to face him. “I’m not making myself clear. Since our marriage, my relationship with everyone else includes him. He is an assumed constant in my life. When I arrive somewhere, I’m asked where he is, what he’s doing, when he’s arriving, whether he likes his teaching assignment. On and on. I grow tired of it.”

The doctor laughed, relieved that her complaint was such an innocuous one. “It’s only natural for the rest of the world to perceive you two as a unit.”

“Yes, but I was unaware that marriage would bring about such a dramatic curtailment of my individuality.”

“I wish you would talk to the admiral about this again, Seven. I think you just said that you value being an individual more than you do being part of a Collective. She would be pleased.”

“I’m not so sure about that, since she recommended this marriage to me. I don’t mind being part of a collective, but I dislike the narrow focus of the marriage collective.” She turned back to the window. “And I miss having the time and opportunity to discuss these issues with Admiral Janeway.”

The doctor crossed his arms and studied his patient’s stiff posture. “It isn’t that you have too much time alone with Chakotay. It’s that you don’t have enough time alone with the admiral.”

“My access to her is extremely limited.” She slumped forward, her despair almost palpable. “I need them both.”

“Have you spoken to her about this? Does she know you miss her?”

“I’ve tried, but she always stops me and says she’s unwilling to interfere with my marriage.” Seven looked at him over her shoulder. “I seldom have time alone with her, and I miss that very much.”

The doctor nodded, beginning to understand. “You miss the special relationship you had on the ship, when Admiral Janeway was helping you regain your humanity.”

“Exactly. She tells me that helping me is Chakotay’s job now. On Voyager, I had regular times to discuss many issues with the captain when we routinely studied the ship’s course or when we played velocity.”

“Could it be that change is simply more difficult for you, as someone who has only lived as an individual for a short time?”

“We have all had to adapt, Doctor.”

“True, but everyone else has lived and worked in various situations over the years and have learned to cope to their new circumstances.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “You have to accept that the admiral will no longer be intimately involved in your life the way she once was. That’s true for all of the crew.”

“It isn’t true for Chakotay. She’s still just as involved in his daily life as she was on Voyager.”

“That’s because they’re team-teaching several classes at the Academy.”

“They’re much more than team teachers, Doctor. Chakotay’s connection to the captain hasn’t diminished one bit since our marriage, at least not as much as mine has. She’s his best friend, and I come in a poor second—to both of them.”

The doctor frowned at the tone of jealousy in her voice. “I suppose that two people who have been partners through a situation as daunting as our exile in the DQ might always share a special bond.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I think I’m beginning to. You resent the fact that your marriage has apparently damaged your relationship to the admiral, while Chakotay’s relationship with her is unchanged.”

Seven studied him and nodded. “That’s part of my dissatisfaction.”

“When I think about it, you were always close to the captain, closer than Chakotay was in the later years on Voyager.”

“Chakotay can never really replace her as my mentor, no matter what she says.” Seven studied the back of her prosthetic hand, absently running her fingers across the metal bands. “She was always so willing to listen to me and help me work through the philosophical and ethical questions that everyone else thought were just adolescent tirades. And she was never threatened by my criticisms of her as a role model.”

“And you miss that?”

She looked at him, her chin held high. “Yes, I do. I wish I could go to her and discuss my dissatisfactions with my marriage, but I know that she would be uncomfortable if I did.” She sighed. “I thought I was ready to begin a more complicated relationship like marriage, but now I’m beginning to think that I have much to learn before I’m truly human enough to be anyone’s wife.”

“What are you talking about?” the doctor demanded, alarmed by the sadness in her voice. “‘Human’ enough?”

“I’m obviously confounded by the most basic human needs.”

“But as a human yourself, you share those needs.”

“Not all of them, at least not to the degree that Chakotay does.” She paused, weighing whether she should continue. With a sigh, she said, “For example, I do not share the need to touch another person as part of my expression of affection.”

The doctor nodded in sympathy. “Well, of course, there’s no touching among the Borg, and so you missed out on that element of your humanity. I can sympathize with that. I learned that I needed to add the ‘human’ touch to my treatment subroutines in order to provide humans the physical reassurance they need as they recover from illness or injury.”

“You’re saying that touch has medicinal qualities?”

“For humans, it certainly does. A hand on the shoulder or a pat on the arm can add more to my patients’ well-being than I ever thought possible.”

“Why? Why isn’t it sufficient to say ‘You will recover soon’ without adding the physical component to the treatment?”

“For humans, Seven, touch conveys a level of emotional support that is in many ways more important than words.”

She frowned. “I can see that human touch would help comfort someone who was injured or sick, but why is it so essential to a healthy adult male? Why isn’t it enough to hear someone say that she loves him without demanding so much more?”

“What does Chakotay demand of you?” the doctor wondered.

“Dozens of little inconsequential gestures. He insists on holding hands while we’re walking, sitting close together on the sofa as we talk, kissing each time we leave for or return from work, hugging for no apparent reason, sleeping in the same bed, and worst of all, frequent copulation.” She turned to the doctor, her blue eyes flashing. “I thought the purpose of copulation was the conception of children.”

The doctor gave her a pointed look, alarmed by the nature of her complaints. Sexual incompatibility was the cause of many failed marriages, and, for the first time, he worried about the likelihood that her marriage would survive. “Of course, procreation is its functional purpose, but humans derive great pleasure from the act and most of them wish to enjoy doing it quite frequently.”

“Hmph.” Seven rolled her eyes. “I find little pleasure in the loss of control and the invasion of personal space that copulation involves. It is a retreat toward the animal instincts of the species.”

“When your aim of perfection is less animalistic.”

“Precisely.”

The EMH sighed and shook his head in dismay. “My experience has shown me that couples who disagree over the physical component of marriage seldom stay together, Seven. Have you talked to Chakotay? Is he willing to work through this with you?”

“He’s aware that I have an aversion to intimacy, but seemed to think it was a temporary problem.” Seven returned to the diagnostic console where she studied the screen, her back once again turned toward the doctor. “It’s been a frequent topic of disagreement between us in the last couple of months. Chakotay apparently expected me to become used to the intimate activities and learn to like them, but the opposite is true-I like them less and less.”

“Oh, Seven, this isn’t good.” The doctor studied the tense stance she’d taken, the way she shielded her face from him. “I know this is difficult for you to talk about, but it needs to be done. Are you still seeing a counselor?”

“Yes. I’m still working with Dr. McCormick.”

“Perhaps the two of you should discuss your marital problems with her.”

“I’m not sure it will help.”

“Do you still love Chakotay?”

“I don’t know if I ever loved him, Doctor.” She returned to the biobed and sat down, looking like the picture of misery. “I admired him and thought he was a good candidate for a long-term relationship. He was an attentive companion, and I was curious about the feelings that came with his touch. I wanted to experience being kissed and caressed, and Chakotay seemed less threatening than some of the other men on the ship.”

“You’ve allowed this to go far beyond experimentation, Seven. He’s your husband, and that gives him the right to expect you to join him willingly in the marriage bed.”

She sighed and lay back down, staring up at the ceiling with troubled eyes. “I’ve wondered if my implants are part of the problem. Maybe if we aggressively sought a way to remove the rest of them, I might find touching and copulation more pleasurable. I would finally get rid of my alcove and sleep in the same bed with him on a regular basis.”

The doctor stood over her, his eyes wide with surprise. “Remove your implants? I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“I’ve done some research and think there might be a way. I’ll send you the data.”

“I’ll look at your work, of course, but please don’t get your hopes up. Unless you’ve made a significant breakthrough, you’ll always need your cortical implant, and the implant will always require the regeneration alcove.”

Seven was obviously angered by his negativity. “I am frustrated by this dead end in my recovery, Doctor. I’m unwilling to accept that this is the way I will live the rest of my life!”

“But that doesn’t mean you should do something that might put your life in danger. Chakotay wouldn’t want you to do anything that would harm you, and Admiral Janeway would have my head on a platter if I encouraged you to take a chance with your life.”

“Perhaps.” She took a deep breath. “To tell the truth, I’ve wondered if I will ever be able to make Chakotay happy. Perhaps he should find someone else to meet these physical needs.”

“Are you talking about divorce?”

“Not necessarily, although I would be willing to give him his freedom, if he asked me to. I’d be willing to entertain a compromise.”

The doctor shook his head. “Traditionally, marriage implies fidelity. I think Chakotay would feel he had betrayed you if he had an extramarital affair.”

“Even if that’s what I wanted him to do?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Seven of Nine was obviously annoyed. “The exclusivity of marriage confuses me, as well. If this procreative activity is so highly pleasurable, then multiple partners would make sense to me.”

“If that were so, Seven, why bother to get married?”

She smiled slightly, “I’ve asked myself that question a dozen times in recent weeks, Doctor.”

“Promise me that you’ll talk these issues over with your husband, and look into joint counseling with Dr. McCormick, too.”

“As Admiral Janeway has assured me, everything will work out,” she replied, closing her eyes. “In the meantime, we need to complete this examination so that I can return to work.”

The doctor picked up his tricorder and resumed his adjustment of her ocular implant. However, the happiness he’d felt earlier had given way to anxiety.

“Just don’t do anything rash,” he chided her. “I worry about you.”

He realized later that Seven had made no promises.