"It's so beautiful," she whispered, staring at the sky.
Seated beside her under the tree, he too stared at the unfolding glory above.
Elsewhere, stars turned to nebulae, their catastrophic end announced in the brilliant tones of pink and orange - but here, tonight, this light announced nothing but the end of a small world.
It was right that it should end here, beneath this tree: here where he had watched the stars as a child, where he had first confessed his love for Beverly, where he had proposed, and where, only two weeks before, they had married - but it was so wrong that it should end.
Beverly's shivering interrupted his thought.
He reached for the blanket - but she shrugged it away.
"You're cold," he protested.
"I'd rather have your arms around me," she answered.
He wrapped his arm around her - then pulled the blanket around them both.
He felt her shivering ease - then shifted his gaze to his beloved stars.
It shouldn't have been like this, he thought quietly, wishing he could have raged against fate - but there wasn't enough time left for anger. There was only enough time left to hold her.
He hadn't been on Earth when the unknown spacecraft had approached the planet; as Beverly concluded her work at Starfleet Medical, he had taken the Enterprise on a shakedown run before she joined him. Light years away, he had heard the emergency call for help when the mystery craft had exploded, showering the planet with radiation, rendering the night sky alight with glorious color - while quickly and quietly killing every living creature beneath it.
By the time anyone realized what had happened, it was too late. Picard had hurried home, only to find his wife struggling to help the victims. He had swept her into his arms, transported her home - and now sat with her beneath their tree, watching their world end.
She gave another shiver, and seeing her now rapidly paling face illuminated by the glow of the explosion, Picard gently lay her down beside him, wrapping his arms around her, pulling the blanket tighter around them both.
"Hold me," she whispered.
"For as long as the stars shine," he promised.
She smiled, knowing the medication that had allowed him to stay with her had its limits against the radiation - but knowing equally well that it would protect him long enough to see her through the end.
"I love you, Jean-Luc," she whispered.
"I love you, Beverly," he replied then kissed her again. "I have always loved you."
Her arms tightened around his body - then eased as the last vestige of life left.
He kissed her once more, holding her to him, content to spend the rest of his life keeping his final promise.
Somewhere, far away, a communicator chirped; a voice warned him that the medication was quickly losing its efficacy, that he must return to the ship now.
In time, it too faded away.