There's a boat
I could sail away
There's the sky
I could catch a plane
There's a train, there's the tracks
I could leave and I could choose to not come back
Oh, never come back
There you are
Giving up the fight
Here I am
Begging you to try
Talk to me, let me in
But you just put your wall back up again
Oh, when's it gonna end
How far do I have to go to make you understand
I wanna make this work so much it hurts but I just can't
Keep on giving, go on living with the way things are
So, I'm gonna walk away
And it's up to you to say how far
There's a chance
I could change my mind
But I won't
Not 'till you decide
What you want, what you need
Do you even care if I stay or leave
Oh, what's it gonna be
How far do I have to go to make you understand
I wanna make this work so much it hurts but I just can't
Keep on giving, go on living with the way things are
So, I'm gonna walk away
And it's up to you to say how far
Out of this chair
Or just across the room
Halfway down the block
Or halfway to the moon
How far do I have to go to make you understand
I wanna make this work so much it hurts but I just can't
Keep on giving, go on living with the way things are
So, I'm gonna walk away
And it's up to you to say
Yeah, I'm gonna walk away
And it's up to you to say
How far
How far
Martina McBride, "How Far"
It had felt like the longest walk she had ever taken, the relatively short journey from her office in Sickbay to the captain's ready room that evening. However, Beverly Crusher's legs were lead, her breathing laboured and heart heavy with dreaded anticipation of the conversation to come. Sounding the chime on the door, Beverly's hand quivers, steeling herself for the unpleasant discussion that she knows is long overdue.
"Come," is the reply in the captain's familiar baritone on the opposite side of the door, steady and business-like.
Inhaling sharply, Beverly opens the door and braces herself, her heart beating profusely against her chest.
Glancing up from his monitor at his desk, Picard looks across the room to his visitor, relaxing slightly at the sight of his Chief Medical Officer. "Hello, Doctor. What are you doing working at this time of night? Didn't your shift end two hours ago?"
Grimacing, Beverly pads trepidatiously over to the desk, shoving her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. "Do you have a moment?"
"Certainly," replies Picard easily, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. "What's the matter?"
Desperately trying to remain passive, Beverly lowers herself into the visitor chair in front of the desk, folding her hands in her lap. "I need to tell you something, but there's really no pleasant way to do it."
"What's wrong?" demands Picard, leaning forward in heightened anticipation, his arms on the desk.
"I've got a position as head of Starfleet Medical," admits Beverly ruefully. "I'm transferring to Medical. I…don't know…"
"You're leaving?" asks Picard incredulously. "You're leaving the Enterprise?"
"Yes," whispers Beverly remorsefully, averting her eyes to her hands stringing awkwardly in her lap.
"Why?" demands Picard, utterly dumbfounded. "What is it? What did I…What happened?"
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Beverly raises her head to look at him again. "Nothing…happened. I need to do this, Jean-Luc. It's a great opportunity for me. I can't stay here…."
"It's about your career?" Jean-Luc confirms in disbelief, his eyes narrowing at her. He cannot fathom this revelation. Beverly had never expressed any desire to return to Medical. He had assumed she was perfectly content on the Enterprise. He cannot imagine what initiated this change in heart.
"Yes," replies Beverly doubtfully. "They asked me to apply for this position, and it's an opportunity for me to work with incredible scholars. I can focus on research…."
"What about us?" asks Jean-Luc honestly, his voice thick, leaning toward her over the desk.
Running her tongue over her dry lips, Beverly regards him thoughtfully. "Us?"
"You're leaving the Enterprise," elaborates Jean-Luc, fumbling for words. "This is the flagship of the Federation. We're on the frontline of Starfleet's most fascinating missions. I thought you were excited. You work well with your colleagues. You've built friendships, camaraderie."
Biting her lip, Beverly nods reluctantly. "Yes. That's true…."
"What about your son?" Jean-Luc prompts her. "What of Wesley? He's just gotten settled here. He's established in his studies, built friendships, relationships with the crew. He's excelling here. Are you going to up-root him from his home now?"
Averting her eyes, Beverly sighs deeply, stinging tears threatening in the back of her eyes. "Dammit, Jean-Luc!"
"I don't understand," admits Jean-Luc, exhaling audibly.
"I…I can't….do this anymore," confesses Beverly, hot tears cascading down her cheeks, the iron walls she had so carefully erected finally collapsing.
"Do what?" presses Jean-Luc, staring at her in open concern, his hazel eyes wide.
Rising out of her chair, Beverly swipes at her cheeks, trying in vain to dry the tracks left by the avalanche of tears that is pouring down her face despite her best efforts to contain it. Turning on her heels, she makes for the door, wishing she could disappear and he wouldn't have to see her break down like this.
Jumping out of his chair, Jean-Luc rushes to catch her before she reaches the door, grasping her elbow and pulling her back. "Beverly, stop. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on."
Turning her around to face him, Jean-Luc tilts her chin to look him in the eyes. "Please, Beverly. Talk to me."
Sniffling, Beverly gazes up at him, struggling to articulate the appropriate words. "I asked for this assignment, Jean-Luc. I wanted to be here. I wanted to be with you. But, I can't take it anymore. I thought…I thought I felt when we were younger that you had feelings for me. I…I certainly had feelings for you. But, I was with Jack. After he died I was so focused on Wes I couldn't even imagine trying to build a relationship with another man. I…I finally felt like maybe it was time to take a chance, see if we could make this work. But…but it's obvious now how wrong I was, and I wish I could just chalk it up and get over it. But, you're my best friend, and I love you. I can't just…get over it. I…I don't know what else to do. I….I have to go away."
Gazing down at her intently, her cheeks stained wet with the wake of her tears, Jean-Luc is stunned silent, unable to vocalize an appropriate response to her shattering revelation. Speechless, he lowers his mouth to hers, cupping her cheek and kissing her slowly, exploringly, and healingly.
Whimpering, Beverly closes her eyes, melting into the embrace, her head swarming as he snakes one arm around her back. She braces her hand against his chest, relaxing into the kiss.
After a moment, Jean-Luc breaks off, taking the hand cupping her cheek and grazing her jaw with his thumb. Staring into her sapphire eyes, he smiles warmly. "You're not going anywhere, Doctor. Call Starfleet. Tell them you serve at the pleasure of the captain of the Enterprise."
Smiling incredulously, Beverly almost laughs, somewhat light-headed. "Jean-Luc…"
Tracing her lips with his index finger, Jean-Luc presses his lips to her forehead. "I love you, Beverly. I'm just sorry it's taken me this long to express it. I'm a bloody fool. Please, please forgive me. You cannot leave me."
Revelling in the intimacy, the feel of his warm hand on the small of her back, Beverly sighs contentedly. "Aye, sir."