Author: Jadeblueafterglow17
Title: A Beat In My Heart (Patient X)
Summary: The ultimate penalty is that of death and dying for the living.
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Chapter 3: Diagnosis
Dr. Crusher arrived on the bridge, almost at a full run. Her blue pants suit was covered by her teal lab coat as she brought with her a tricorder and various other tools. She ran a tricorder over her son as Wesley tried to sit up but only slumped down further into his seat. Counselor Troi stood by his side, stroking his hair as his eyes grew heavy.
Beverly stooped beside him on the other side. The captain stood behind her quietly observing.
"Wes, what's wrong?" Wesley shook his head back and forth.
"I...dunno...just a little sick."
"Heart rate 120, BP 200/80, temp 38.4."
Her face creased with concern as she heard Wesley panting quickly. She placed a hand on his forehead as his eyes slid shut.
"A little sick? ...you're temperature is highly elevated, you look awful."
"He is not faring well Beverly, I sense that he's in pain and is losing awareness." Troi whispered stroking her hand down his face.
"What hurts Wes...?"
He felt like crying, there was no easy answer to that question. Wesley didn't understand how he had begun to feel so bad so quickly. He felt like he could die. His breath hitched and he closed his eyes as his fists clenched tightly.
"Everything..." he said softly.
"Well that would explain the high BP. He complained of a headache a few days ago...I didn't think to much of it... since he's been working so hard lately." Beverly thought out loud as she stared at the conundrum before her.
Suddenly an unconscious Wesley moaned and slipped from his seat starting to fall towards the floor. Deanna and Beverly gasped as they caught him and eased him to the floor. He was covered in a cold sweat and his lips parted as he continued to breathe in short rasps. She ran the tricorder over him again.
"I don't understand this. His temperature has gone up another 2/10 of a degree. 38.6." She peered into his eyes as she noticed the bridge's complement now surrounded her.
"He passed out." Her panicked voice replied.
"You need to get him to sick bay doctor."
"No, I just decontaminated the area. Hopefully his contact with others strengthened his immune system and will help him fight whatever this is instead of making it worse on him. This has to be bacterial, although the onset and deterioration is remarkable. He'll have to be isolated until a cause can be identified. I will keep him in our quarters"
Beverly contacted Dr. Hill and Nurse Ogawa and asked them to beam a barrage onecessary supplies to her quarters, plenty of IV fluids, hypo sprays, a cooling blanket, and a portable scanner. Everything else she could replicate.
"I need to keep him away from my patient in sickbay, he doesn't need a virus as well."
"Doctor, the odds of Wesley not contracting a significantly mutated strain of a virus or bacterial infection in such confined quarters after nine hundred seventy exposures is approximately 1: in .08756245..."
"Thank you Data." Riker interrupted. Data turned his attention back to his comm panel surreptitiously glancing at his fallen friend out of the corner of his eye.
"He's gone downhill too soon for a virus, he may be in for a rough go of it though." She finished scanning him and scooped him out of Deanna's arms and into her own. He moaned a little as his droopy eyes landed on her face.
"Captain, I'll need time to study this and take care of my son...May I request ..." Picard raised a hand to cut her off.
"Beverly...you don't need to ask. Take care of Ensign Crusher. Let us know if we can be of assistance."
Unphased by the use of her first name she sighed a smile at the captain and returned her attention to her son. She touched his scorching neck, and felt him shaking and moaning.
"Transporter Room. Two to beam directly to my quarters."
"Transporter room, belay that order ...makes that three..."
Captain Picard reached down and picked up the boy, pulling Wesley's barely conscious form close to him and wrapped his arm around his neck. He lifted him slowly in the air. "I have to change my clothes anyway I can help you get him situated."
"Thank You."
"Number one...you have the bridge."
The three of them disappeared in a shimmering display of blue particle energy.
Entering the quarters she led him to her bedroom as the motion sensor controlled lights illuminated their path. Wesley hung limply in his arms.
"You should really encourage your son to eat more, he's as light as a feather." she smiled warmly.
"Haven't you seen him eat? He eats four eggs every morning bacon, toast, oatmeal, and a glass of milk; twice as much at dinner. He's just all lean muscle. Jack was the same way...well, he didn't get it from me." She smiled as a memory entered her mind.
(Two days ago)
The aroma of coffee wafted into her nostrils pulling her from a delightful dream. "Jean-Luc..." its so early...come back to bed..." she said softly. Wesley smiled and shook his head.
The clinking of glassware also reached her ears as she felt the bed sink ever so slightly beside her leg.
"La - La-La-La...mom it's me! Lights 70%" the masculine voice said.
She sat up and was delighted to see Wesley sitting beside her, the satisfied grin on his face made her decidedly nervous but she tried to ignore it.
"G'morning Wes...What is that look for?"
"Good morning Mom... oh Nothing! Sleep well?"
"I hate it when you do that."
"Do what?" he asked smiling.
"You know very well what Wesley Robert Crusher. You think you are so clever."
Beverly wiped the sleep from her eyes, pulled her short red hair back from her face and saw he'd brought in a tray with breakfast, coffee, bagel, cream cheese bacon and eggs with fruit. He was always pressing that she ate like a bird. The meals he made for her would usually last her the entire day.
"Mmmmm ...coffee..." she stretched lazily. Suddenly her dark red eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, you're already dressed?"
"You slept through breakfast."
"What time is it?"
"0745hrs...I have to be in Engineering soon and I..."
"Oh hell...I'm late..." she jumped from the bed.
"Mom... wait!" He quickly grabbed the sleeve of her silk gown. "I already told Dr. Hill you would be in at nine. She told me not to dare wake you...but I figured you'd hurt me at some point if I didn't." He smiled a lopsided smile as she stopped and fell and stood beside her son.
She fell back onto her bed.
"Well aren't you resourceful Ensign Crusher?" she patted his hand as she turned on her side to stare at him.
"Somebody's gotta keep you in line Commander Crusher...and your food is getting cold."
Wesley moved the tray to the bed as she began to nibble at the food and drank the coffee.
Wesley could hear her voice as she explained to him about her latest patient, and the trouble she was having treating the woman's odd symptoms. He closed his eyes for a few moments as he rubbed his temples. He didn't realize his mother had stopped speaking to him.
"Wes?" She reached forward and stroked three fingers across his forehead. She could see that something was bothering him.
"Your headache is still not any better is it?" she stood heading to get a hypo spray. Wesley reached out and grabbed her hand to stop her.
"I have classes and I'm on duty, you nearly knocked me out last time."
"I don't want this to get out of hand...headaches usually have an underlying cause. I really need to examine you in sick bay to find the cause, but I don't want to expose you to the virus that's going around."
"I'll be okay."
"Famous last words, son." Wesley rolled his eyes.
She took another sip of coffee and stared at Wesley with a smile forming on her lips.
"There are no classes next week, we'll be on Earth...and somebody will be having a very big day..."
Wesley had a glimpse of a smile on his lips before he turned away from his mother and stood up from her bed straightening his uniform.
"Just another day..."
"The stretch marks on my belly would be inclined to disagree with you."
"Mom!" he screamed horrified at the visual she placed in his mind.
"Sorry! It certainly is not just another day. What would you like for your birthday?"
"To sleep!" he exclaimed rubbing his face trying to wipe away the weariness of the last few weeks.
"I know it's been rough on you especially with everyone being so sick, you've been working a lot."
The entire crew had been ravaged with a horrible virus. It mutated each time it transferred from one person to another. Under the watchful eye of his mother, he'd received immune system boosts and been fortunate to not even get the sniffles. Wesley had even helped take care of Captain Picard and Commander Riker when they had been ill.
"It's okay, I'll rest when the term ends tomorrow."
"Seventeen! Quite the milestone young man...I'm sure you have plans with your friends but please spare some time for you dear old mom on your birthday."
"Mother..." Wesley stood and put her tray on a nearby table.
"Don't you pull that "mother" card on me young man..." She gathered her robe, stood up, and dusted the shoulders of his uniform off. It amazed her every day how much he looked like Jack.
"There is always time in my day for you." he said, his brown eyes twinkling.
"Where would you like him?" Picard's baritone interrupted her thoughts as Beverly stared at Wesley drenched with sweat as he lay limply in his Captain's arms.
She stroked the crown of her son's head and nodded towards her bedroom.
"Oh no... I'd almost forgotten."
"Forgotten?"
"Wesley hasn't had the virus. That horrible Leutscher virus. If this is another form of it..."
"What?"
"It kept mutating so fast" she sat down on the bed to strip off the covers. "...and then I could never get ahead ...because nearly everyone on the ship had it,"
Picard placed Wesley on Beverly's bed. It would be easier to take care of him in her quarters there with the adjoining bathroom. He helped her remove his Ensign's uniform.
In the last two years she had relegated his yearly physicals to her male nurse and to Dr. Selar. Even living with her son in the room next door she rarely saw him out of his uniform, because their hours made them like ships passing in the night.
She couldn't help but notice the row of muscles in his abs and the hair on his abdomen that disappeared into his boxers. She knew Wesley was constantly working out either on the holdeck or in training with Worf. Looking at him now, she realized he was certainly not the same young boy she'd brought on the Enterprise almost three years ago. They placed him in the center of a cooling blanket and Wesley instantly began shivering.
In an instant Picard was seated beside her his strong warm hand on her arm as she glanced at her son over her shoulder. His steel grey eyes were a source of comfort and strength as she held fast to Wesley's hand.
She pulled a lock of red hair behind her ear as she stared at her son, his eyes at half mast staring at the ceiling seemingly unaware of their conversation.
"You seem more worried than usual...Beverly. Wesley will be fine, he has the best doctor in the house." his smile lit up his eyes.
Her face remained grim as she patted his hand; each hating to relinquish each other's touch as she removed his hand and climbed on the bed continuing to examine her son.
"The others have formed immunity...including you, they are safe. I was hoping to expose it to Wesley in a milder form, but then we got overwhelmed and then..."
Twenty fourth century medical intervention was having no effect on this virus. It was a genetically engineered virus from the late 22nd century, which ravaged human white blood cells turning them into ineffective sludge.
They each stared at him. His eyes were now closed as his shivering frame lay atop the cooling sheath and his breath began coming in shorter bursts as though he was in pain.
"If this is in fact the virus, he already seems to be so much worse than we were so early in the disease."
"I know, that really worries me. As far as I know, he's been symptomatic for less than 24 hours. If this isn't bacterial, and it is the virus, I think its mutated again. The last person - I thought - is still recovering in sick bay, she's been sick for nine days and was finally able to eat something solid today. She's lost about eight pounds and wasn't this sick. Wesley can't afford to lose an ounce." She smoothed her hand absently back and forth across his flat abdomen feeling the muscle and taut skin.
"He has youth on his side, he is strong Beverly you must'n worry. Can you start a new course of treatment? More aggressive?" Picard asked as she continued to set up supplies and wiped Wesley down with a coolant. She ran the tricorder over him again then concentrating on his chest. Her brow furrowed.
"What is it?"
"He has different symptoms that complicate things. The scan indicated fluid in the lungs and inflammation, that he didn't have just thirty minutes ago. I'm starting him on high potency broad spectrum antibiotic and a course of antipyretics. As long as I can keep the fever at bay I can get his immune system strong enough to fight it."
Her ministrations complete Wesley mumbled something incoherently as he began to moan, a soft whisper to his ear and a stroke of her hand to his face calmed his psyche as he ceased his struggling.
Picard stood and watched, it amazed him how she could be the strong amazing woman that she was...seeming fearless at any turn. Now here she was vulnerable, frightened, and nervous over the life of her only child. It was hard not to look at her and see her as incredibly beautiful if not incredibly fragile.
"Wes? sweetheart can you hear me?" She smoothed her hand down the side of his face and was astonished at the heat.
She ran the tricorder over his neck and forehead. "Whew.. 41 C (105.3 F)."
He moaned in response. "C'mon sweetheart, you're too warm I'm gonna help you take a shower, it'll help with your fever and the body aches."
"Nnnnnnnn" was his only response. He struggled to pull at the sheets beneath him as she tried to remove them.
"I promise I'll let you get warm, as soon as we can get your fever broken, you'll feel so much better."
"Would you like some assistance?" Picard asked.
"No, you've done too much already, if I need assistance I'll call one of my nurses. He's pretty out of it, hopefully he won't remember much of this. Besides he'd be mortified to know you saw him like this."
Picard smiled reassuringly. He patted Wesley's leg and whispered "Feel Better." He reached out and grabbed her hand once again and gently pulled it to his lips. "Take good care of him, and yourself." with a last glance back at them, Picard exited the room and headed towards his quarters.
She knew Wesley must have felt awful, because her son didn't protest her removing his underwear and slipping him into the sonic shower after seating him in a chair, and sponging him off. It was hard to develop a sense of clinical detachment when it was your own child, but she had to in order to get his temperature down and get him comfortable. After more than 20 minutes under the luke warm spray of water a timid voice startled her.
"Mom?"
Beverly had drifted off; her mind conjuring up a variety of treatment options as her son sat in the chilled water. As she looked at the water cascading over his hair and down his lips and chin, she wanted to laugh if he didn't look so absolutely pitiful. His teeth were chattering, and he was aware enough to place his hands over his lap.
She placed the towel she'd been using to bathe him over his lap. Her son was nothing if not modest.
"Yes Wes?"
"Why am...I in ...hhh...here?"
"You're sick, you have a high fever and it was the quickest way to drop your temperature." She brushed the hair out of his eyes.
"You...? Why are you ...innn nnn heeere...?"
"Sorry, fringe benefit...Dr. Selar is at Starfleet, I'm your doctor this time, sweetheart. If you'd like someone else to help you out I can..." she turned to get his towel.
"S'okay" he whispered.
"Okay, let me help you dry off ...and we'll get you out of here." She turned off the water glad to see that he was finally somewhat lucid if not just a bit sluggish.
She half walked, half carried his hot naked dead weight back to her bed as he awakened enough to be aware that he was chilled and naked. When Wes found the bed again he promptly collapsed in an odd backwards snow angel and promptly mooned his mother with his ample, round cheeks. Beverly shook her head at the sight and dismissed the potential future blackmail potential opportunities she currently had. Her son was as pitiful as she had seen him, and she wouldn't dare torture him when he felt this bad as she grabbed him under his arms and dragged him onto the cooling blanket. Carefully reaching under him she placed an external catheter on him in case he was too weak to go to the restroom after sliding clean boxers over his slim hips, getting a retort of "Mom!" from him as he whined.
"Hush...you'll thank me later." she replied.
She placed an IV in his arm and received only a mild groan from him.
"Sorry..." she said rubbing the injection site. He tried desperately to gather the covers and cover himself up, but she quickly took every sheet and blanket off of the bed leaving him to cool off in the chilled air. Goose flesh had risen all over his half naked skin even though his core temperature was still quite warm.
Beverly made a quick trip to the replicator to make him some warm chicken broth, hoping to put something of substance on his stomach.
She climbed back on the bed and pulled him over to face her. He resisted at first but then begrudgingly turned into her direction. She pulled him up against her. Seeking her warmth more than her comfort he allowed her to hold him close to her.
"Wes, I know you feel awful, but please try to drink this." She placed the spoon to his lips and he took two or three spoonfuls before breaking into a coughing fit. He didn't attempt to take another sip.
She ran the tricorder over him again. His temperature was now 39 C (103.9F) still high but not brain frying hot.
"How about some ice cream? A banana split may be too much, but how about some chocolate?" His eyes opened in thin slits as he looked into his mother's worried eyes. He didn't bother to respond as she took the towel and finished drying his hair.
"Mom." he sighed coming back to awareness.
Just exhaling to whisper her name seemed to take so much out of him as his face cringed with pain and he tried to swallow. She asked him to open his mouth as she assisted him and looked at his throat with a laryngoscope and was shocked to see his bright red throat with significant white coating. She quickly grabbed a hypo spray and touched it to his throat as his tense face seemed to relax a little. He laid back down on his stomach his head laying on her pillow facing her.
She laid down next to him and stared into his sad exhausted eyes, and offered him more to drink, but he made no attempt to accept it.
"Wes, I really wish you'd drink something. You're really starting to worry me."
Their faces were mere inches away from each other. She absolutely adored the way Wesley's face still looked like a little boy sometimes even as the stubble of a 5 o'clock shadow hinted on his chin. His glassy brown eyes seemed to be staring straight through her.
"I think you have that virus that's been going through the ship. It's mutating and its behaving differently with you. I won't know more until I can study your blood sample. I believe you have worn down your immune system working so hard and taking care of others when they were sick, and that may be why you are so sick now. As you know there's no cure I can only treat the symptoms and try to keep you comfortable. Do you understand?"
Wesley continued to stare a vacant stare, as if his mother wasn't there.
"Wes?"
Wesley could only hear a rushing noise going through his mind. He could see his mother's lips moving but could not for the life of him could not hear the words coming out of her mouth.
A sense of fear spread across her face. Could he not hear or understand her words? Had he been hearing her but couldn't respond or was he too weak to formulate the words? She ran the tricorder over him again, this time concentrating around his brain function.
She discovered a broken blood vessel. He'd had a non tonic clonic febrile seizure at some time after his shower.
When she looked back at Wes he'd closed his eyes. She stroked his hair gently and laid her head atop his scalding forehead and cried.
"I'm sorry Wes, I'll get you better...I promise."
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