CALL HOME THE HEART

Author's Note: This story takes place approximately two months after the 7th season episode "Journey's End." Which definitely makes it an A/U story.

"Dr. Crusher, are you busy?"

Beverly Crusher looked up, startled. It was early in the ship's "morning", a good half-hour before the official start of her daily shift, and she hadn't expected anyone to interrupt her latest attempt at wading through the crew's annual medical evaluations. Not for anything short of a full-blown emergency, anyway.

She was even more startled when she recognized the speaker as Ensign Robin Leffler, from Engineering, a young woman her son Wesley had shown quite a bit of interest in the last few times he'd been aboard the Enterprise. Of course, that had been before he'd decided his destiny lay off the beaten path to a career in Starfleet he'd originally expected to follow. He'd left the ship, left Starfleet Academy, left his career and the life he'd been living, to follow a dream his mother still wasn't sure she understood, two months later.

All of which was in the past and had nothing to do with Robin Leffler in the here and now. She showed no signs of injuries or illnesses that would bring her to Sickbay, Crusher noted as she rose to her feet, just a troubled expression clouding her normally sunny features. But then, she would hardly have gone to the CMO's private office if it was a purely physical problem, not with Nurse Ogawa and Dr. Selar on duty. There hadn't been any alerts, nor was there anything in Robin's manner to indicate a shipwide emergency. Which meant, therefore, that she wished to see the doctor about something else. Something personal, perhaps...

Crusher forced speculation away as she smiled and indicated the chair in front of her desk. "Of course, I'm always busy, but then, you know that," she said lightly. "It's the nature of our jobs. What can I do for you, Ensign?"

Leffler rubbed her stomach in what appeared to be a nervous gesture before moving farther into the room and taking the indicated seat. Yes, definitely nervous, Crusher decided. She waited, an expectant look on her face, for Leffler to tell her whatever it was she wanted to tell her. Or, perhaps, needed to tell her...

"Is something wrong, Ensign?" Crusher took the initiative after an uneasy moment passed in silence.

"No--well, yes. Maybe." Leffler, who had been studying the toes of her boots as if they held the answers to unanswerable questions, gave a helpless shrug as she finally met Crusher's eyes. "Something's happened, and I'm not really sure how to handle it. I never worked out a rule to cover it," she added in a cryptic murmur.

"Is it something I can help you with?" Crusher asked, treading carefully. She was confused, but she allowed only the smallest fraction of that confusion to show in her voice. And none of her impatience.

"Well, it's just that I think--that is, I may be, um, pregnant." Leffler finally said it.

"May be? Or are?" Crusher asked, allowing the impatience to show this time. Just the tiniest bit. But that impatience was beginning to mute into concern. Robin had never struck her as being this inarticulate; she must be very upset. "Have you had one of the nurses run a scan?"

"Uh, no, I decided I'd better talk to you first. I mean, it does concern you. Sort of."

The confusion was back, but only for a moment as comprehension dawned. "Robin, are you trying to tell me--"

"That Wesley's the father? Um, yeah, I guess I am," Leffler finished, tugging nervously at the end of her shoulder-length braid. "And I'm not sure what to do about it."

Crusher let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, then stood up and keyed the privacy lock on her door. She came back around the desk and sank into the seat, studying her young visitor with a more clinical eye, submerging the emotional turmoil Robin's confession caused behind a professional facade. "What are your symptoms?"

"All the classic symptoms: occasional morning nausea, a peckish appetite, and I've been feeling tired and run down lately," Robin reported. "Plus I haven't menstruated for two months." Her voice showed none of its earlier hesitation. "Which is about how long it's been since Wesley...left."

"Didn't you have a contraceptive implant?" Crusher could have taken back the accusative words the moment they left her mouth; the only excuse she could offer was that the shock of this unexpected conversation had slowed her usual censor on her tongue. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded," she offered contritely.

"No, it's a reasonable question," Leffler replied, either not hearing or not acknowledging the implied criticism behind the doctor's words. "And yes, I had one. All I can think is that it didn't take for some reason. I guess I should have realized what was wrong with me when I first started getting sick," she added sheepishly, "considering the symptoms and all, but it just never crossed my mind until my cycle was off two months in a row. I just thought it was stress."

Crusher could imagine the source of that stress, but wisely offered no comment. "Do you know what you want to do?" she asked instead, fighting to keep her voice professional even as she felt her own stress level rising.

Leffler shook her head. "Not yet. I just wanted to talk to you, to let you know. Since Wesley isn't here..." Her voice trailed off, and Crusher filled the silence not with words, but with a gesture of support as she reached across her desk and took the other woman's hand in her own. Robin smiled and squeezed the doctor's fingers gratefully. "I guess I have a decision to make, don't I."

Crusher nodded, hesitating a moment before voicing her next question. "Have you considered speaking to Counselor Troi about it? This is an important decision, and I'm afraid I can't pretend to be an objective party."

Leffler nodded, unperturbed. "I already did, last night. I didn't tell her about Wesley, and she didn't ask, but I think she might have guessed. Because of the way I reacted when she mentioned speaking to you. I couldn't help it; I was a little nervous at the idea."

"I can imagine," Crusher murmured sympathetically. "What did she say?"

"She basically told me to find out for sure, before worrying about making a decision, and that I could talk to her about it afterwards if I needed to," Robin told her.

"Good advice." Crusher rose to her feet. "Let's take care of the first part right now, shall we?" She ushered Robin into the main part of Sickbay and over to a diagnostic bed. Which gave them a not-unexpected confirmation of Robin's condition. And the fact that her contraceptive implant was functioning, but not anywhere near optimal levels. Crusher took the time to remove it, moving numbly through the motions. I could be a grandmother, was the only thought that kept running through her mind.

Robin looked up at Dr. Crusher and took a deep breath. "Well. That's that." She swung her feet over the edge of the bed. "At least now I know for sure I have a decision to make."

"Would you like me to see if there's some way we can contact Wesley?" Crusher offered, in response to the unasked question in Robin's eyes.

The young ensign nodded gratefully. "If there's any way, any way at all--"

"We'll find it," Crusher responded firmly. She ignored the nagging doubts that fluttered around the edges of her consciousness. There was no choice; they had to find Wesley.

No matter how difficult it might turn out to be.