He didn't miss that word, love. How could he have missed it. And something inside of him sparked to life, a part of him that was every bit the human he'd been born as, a part of him that Locutus could never hope to dissect and understand. Love wasn't in the Borg vocabulary. Emotions weren't in their repertoire. Attachments to specific individuals wasn't something they could comprehend. They were one. They were the Collective. They didn't hurt when they lost some of their own kind. They didn't weep for individuals or for the horror they inflicted on other civilizations, ripping families apart and taking away a person's freedom in every aspect.
They couldn't love. Not until they were disconnected, liberated from the singular mind and singular mission of their Queen.
But he wasn't Locutus. He wasn't Borg. He was Captain Jean-Luc Picard, one of only a handful who had withstood being Assimilated. He had his own thoughts and emotions and feelings and attachments and goodness if he didn't love her too. Her hand at his cheek, he looks into her eyes, his filled with a stubborn resilience even in his current less than positive state of mind.
Lifting one hand, he places his over hers at his cheek and laces his fingers with hers as he pulls it away from his face, from the scars where Locutus had attempted to use Seven's alcove to give him the means to Assimilate once again. Thankfully, unlike what was on the inside, those scars would eventually heal. "I... I do understand that I'm not alone. I'm afraid I've always found it very difficult to... unburden myself of the things that... hurt. Traumatic things I've been through. Counselor Troi used to work very hard to get through what I... and unfortunately just when I began to get comfortable in speaking with her she married my First Officer and they were being reassigned."
But Helen isn't here to speak about Counselor Troi or Commander Riker. No, she's here to speak about him. And Jean-Luc knows he shouldn't try to weasel his way out by speaking of others. "The Borg... they take away every freedom a person has. Freedom of thought. Freedom to act. Freedom to feel. But the Queen... she wanted me to be special. So she left my consciousness inside. It... it was similar to being trapped inside while watching someone use you to destroy. Locutus destroyed ships with hundreds of people on board. He was feared by many and able to give orders, the Queen's orders, to the Collective.
"The Queen underestimated me, I suppose. Because once I was back in the hands of my crew, that consciousness she wanted me to have to liason with the Federation fought it's way back out." And perhaps fought was a light term for the battle, the struggle of pushing past the Borg, the Queen and Locutus to get his own back, to be the one in control. "That doesn't mean that I have ever forgotten that it was my voice, my body, my mind that gave the orders that killed thousands of my own people."