DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
A/N: Hello all. I can't believe this is the last chapter. I didn't want this fic to end so quickly but I'm afraid it has. Just wanted to say a huge thank you for all your support and leaving such encouraging reviews! I really hope you like this last chapter. Don't worry I have another few stories I'm working on for this fandom, so keep an eye open :) Please read and review if you have the time. Feedback is always welcome. Live long and Prosper my friends! Enjoy :) x
7.
It wouldn't be long now. A few minutes, maybe hours at most, and they would fade away. The storm had settled, the winds had died down and an eerie silence had been left in its wake.
Beverly fought to keep her eyes open, to stay conscious. One deep breath and she knew she'd give in to the urge to sleep and be rocked into oblivion. Her arms were locked around the Captain, holding onto him for very life as if she could stop him from falling over the edge. But he had already lost consciousness a long time ago; only the slow rise and fall of his chest assured her that he was still alive.
She pressed her face into his body, wondering what it would be like to let go and follow him. At least that way they would be together.
Light dustings of snow drifted in through the cave entrance and she watched exhaustedly as they landed softly on the icy ground. Her eyelids closed slowly, and everything became a lazy grey blur.
"Riker to Picard, come in."
The crackled words were familiar, and yet distant like a forgotten memory. Beverly wanted to open her eyes, but the lull of sleep was dragging her down and it was almost impossible to stay awake.
"Riker to Picard. Come in Captain… Dr Crusher, can you hear me?"
She startled at the sound of her name and slowly lifted her head and gazed out of the cave entrance. She knew it was only her mind playing tricks, fragmented patterns of memory strands that only served as a reminder of all that had been. Out of pure habit, the Doctor carefully reached for her combadge and pressed it lightly. "C-crusher here," she whispered hoarsely, no knowing if they could hear her.
"Beverly!"
There was a commotion on the signalling end, and the curiosity of it roused her until she had fully opened both eyes. Riker's voice came through again. "Stay where you are, we've got a signal lock on you both."
She nodded her reply, and closed her eyes again. Slothful, cold fingers reached around her abdomen, creeping into her lungs and airways and burning away the remaining warmth. Her body was numb, her nerves shattered. It was hard to breathe.
She never heard the whine of the transporter beam surround them, but a sudden blast of warm air was enough to tell her they were safely back on board the Enterprise. Voices shouted and scattered like late autumn leaves in a hurricane wind, bodies rushing around to help them. She didn't protest as strong arms reached around her shoulders and pulled her away from the Captain.
"It's okay. You're safe now."
It was only then that her vision turned dark.
》》》》》
Bright lights filtered in behind his closed eyes, strange blurred shapes shifting like shadows in the murky-brown darkness. Clicks and low hums overwhelmed his senses, peculiarly normal compared to the still silence that had consumed him for what had seemed like an age. He struggled to move, a strangled groan settled in his throat. Warmth tickled his skin. And he felt content.
"Welcome back, Sir."
His eyes shot open, startled. Where was he?
"You've had a rough few days, Captain. How are you feeling?"
Voices; so many voices. He knew them, somewhere in the deep recesses of his memory, he knew them.
Little by little, Picard opened his eyes, allowing his vision to adjust. A stark whiteness filled his sight, and then there were shapes, bodies, flashing beams of light. It was familiar, uncomfortable in a manner of speaking. Ah. He was in Sickbay.
Commander Riker and Counsellor Troi stood over him, their foreheads creased with concern and relief. Deanna smiled. It took him a few moments to register her words: "Welcome back, Captain."
"It's good to see you awake, Sir," Riker grinned, the palpable weight of his sudden responsibility slowly lifting from his shoulders. The Captain was back, and all would be well again. Sighing with relief, the Councillor placed a careful hand on his shoulder. "You all gave us quite a fright."
"Mr LaForge and Data are both fine," Riker informed him in almost a cheerful manner. "They were discharged from Sickbay this afternoon."
Picard stared at his second in command, frowned. Something wasn't right. Something was missing. No, someone was missing.
Arms flailing, Picard tried in vain to get up, his eyes wide and frightened. He couldn't think straight. Hands pressed against him, urging him to lie back down but he pushed them all away. What was missing? Squeezing his eyes shut he searched, wondering why he couldn't remember. It was as if someone had ripped a hole in his heart, taken away something that he held so precious and dear. But what…?
There was something… it was so close, so familiar.
"I'm right here."
He turned, fighting the ache that rose in his throat at the sound of her voice. Perhaps it had all been a dream, perhaps he had only seen, only felt what he had wanted to feel. But oh, how he had felt. From the tips of his fingers to the depths of his heart, he knew.
A thick blue blanket was wrapped with care around her shoulders, a steaming cup of coffee on the bedside table. She looked haggard, her fiery hair framing her tired face; the dark rings under her eyes a reminder of too many sleepless nights. If he looked closely enough, he could still see the faint scar on her cheek where the arrow had caught her skin. She looked fragile, and he thought if he reached out and touched her, she would surely shatter into a thousand pieces. He breathed in, his lungs expanding and contracting in relief.
They were home.
Riker continued to talk, explaining what had happened while they'd been missing and how they'd eventually found the four officers, filling him in on all the technical details. But the Captain wasn't really listening. He only had eyes and ears for her. Riker's voice faded into undecipherable sounds and Picard found that eventually he wasn't able to hear them. The words were drowned out by the mantra he kept repeating inside his mind: we're alive.
She was smiling at him and her tired blue eyes burned brightly with life. It seemed like a lifetime ago when he had last allowed himself to sail across the ocean of her soul, always floating above the surface but never quite finding the courage to take the plunge. Her hand found his own. "Hey."
Neither of them noticed the Councillor escort his second in command quickly out of the room.
》》》》》
Later, when they had both recovered, they sat side by side on the couch in his quarters. No words had been necessary to discuss what had happened between them; the gentle affection in her gaze and the reassuring embrace of his arms had been enough. He knew they may never speak of what had happened on Malvarma II, but this he did know: that she had been willing to risk her life to save his, and even when he thought he had asked too much she had given him a piece of her heart.
Blankets were wrapped around their bodies, a tray of tea and coffee abandoned on the table. She was tucked against his side, her head resting on his shoulder.
Beverly shifted slightly, her breathing evening out as she fought off inevitable sleep. The warmth of his arm around her shoulders felt like it had always been there, like they had always been like this. She knew she wasn't ready, that she was still afraid to cross the boundaries of their friendship into the wilderness of the unknown. She hoped he realised that she loved him; she had for a long time. Maybe one day soon she'd be ready to tell him that, but for now being here listening to the regular beating of his heart was enough to reassure her.
A yawn escaped his lips and he could feel Beverly smiling. He revelled in the feel of her hair against his skin, her fingers interwoven with his own, his chin resting protectively over her head. She was the harmony to his melody, even though it had taken him this long to truly realise it. For just a few hours they could allow themselves these small moments of indulgence, to just be with one another without having to worry about what tomorrow would bring.
And he thought: this is precisely where we should be.
