The lights were dim in Sickbay for it was deep into the ship's simulated night. But one light still glowed brightly above Will's bed, and Deanna wasn't asleep. She sat in a chair next to the first officer, watching his chest rise and fall, the sound of his uneven breathing loud in the relative silence.
I'm sorry, she whispered in her mind, taking his hand gently in hers. She'd never lied to him. Not ever. Not even little white lies. Not with Will. Not with you. She stared down at his face, so pale beneath his beard. I had to. This time, she'd had to. He was in no condition to be told the truth. And she hadn't lied to him once, but twice. She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly. She'd told him that he would be fine, but the medical staff still wasn't sure about that. His injuries had been extensive: skull fracture, massive internal bleeding, collapsed left lung, severely broken leg. If Worf and Data hadn't found him when they had, Will Riker would have been dead now. As it was, his condition was what Beverly called "precariously stable." He could take a turn for the worse at any moment. Deanna tightened her grip on his hand. And that's why she had told the second lie. She'd assured him that Captain Picard was fine also, but she had no way of knowing that; she had no idea where the captain was.
The shuttle had been found in a wooded area of Trastor Nine with Will crumpled at the helm. The hatch was open and an immediate search was made of the surrounding territory, but there was no sign of the captain. It was as if he'd never been there. But he had. Deanna knew that herself, for she'd seen them both off.
It was unusual for a captain and a first officer of a Starfleet vessel to accompany each other on an away mission, especially without a security officer. But the Trastorians had wanted it that way, as had the Federation. Don't make waves when sailing in someone else's sea.
"There is no danger in this situation, Lieutenant," Jean-Luc insisted, his eyes focused somewhat wearily on his Chief Security Officer. "It is purely diplomatic. Although the Trastorians have shared scientific and technical data with the Federation for years, they have been reluctant at establishing any social ties. They are a very closed society in that respect. But now that they have invited me and Commander Riker to their annual governmental conference, Starfleet can ill afford to undermine their trust by beaming down onto their world with a security team. We don't want to give the impression that we're invading. As it is, the Commander and I won't be beaming down at all. We'll be taking a shuttle."
Worf made a sound low in his throat, almost a growl. "I don't like this, sir. Surely one security officer can accompany you."
Jean-Luc leveled his gaze at the Klingon. "I believe I've made myself perfectly clear, Lieutenant."
Worf's jaw hardened, and he exhaled heavily. "Yes, sir," he agreed reluctantly.
"Captain, is there a reason why you'll be taking a shuttle?" Deanna asked, her eyes darting across the table at Will, and then back to Jean-Luc.
"Yes, there is, Counselor. Although the Trastorians are technologically advanced, they frown upon molecular transport. They recognize that a vast number of cultures use this form of transportation, but they choose not to." Jean-Luc shook his head. "I do not intend to offend them by materializing right in front of their eyes."
To the left of the captain, Will leaned back in his chair. "I personally look forward to the trip. It's been a while since I've been at the controls of a shuttle."
Jean-Luc smiled at his first officer's enthusiasm. "My sentiments exactly, Number One. We'll have to share the conn."
Deanna grinned slightly. "I sense the two of you are looking forward to this trip."
"I think it will prove to be an enlightening experience," Jean-Luc surmised.
"And who knows," Will shrugged his shoulders, "it might even be fun."
If only she'd known; if only she'd sensed something. But she hadn't. She'd felt no inherent dangers in the mission at all. In fact, she was pleased at the idea of the both of them getting away from the ship for a few days. Of course, she wished Jean-Luc and Beverly could take the honeymoon they deserved, but at least the trip might be beneficial for the captain. She knew it would be for Will. He'd been working too hard lately, long hours, setting aside very little time for rest or recreation. As a counselor, and a friend, Deanna had noticed the changes in his personality. He'd grown overly quiet and preoccupied, actually become a stranger to Ten Forward. She'd discussed her concerns with Beverly; the doctor had some of her own.
"Marriage can be a double-edged sword, Deanna," she sighed, staring across her desk at the counselor. "On one hand, I like to think it's the best thing that's ever happened to Jean-Luc, but on the other... well, it does have its share of stress factors. He can't afford to lose any more weight. And as for Will, his blood pressure is up. I had to give him something for it just the other day."
Deanna shook her head. "I wish you and Jean-Luc could get away for a while, but until then, perhaps this trip to Trastor Nine will do them both some good."
The doctor smiled. "Let's hope so, because when I get my husband back, I want him completely unencumbered with the cares and worries of this ship."
~vVv~
When I get my husband back. Those very words echoed in Beverly Crusher's mind, and she stared out the viewport, tears streaming down her cheeks, so afraid that she would never get him back.
~vVv~