The dream had come every night for over a week. Each time there was more detail –- more pain, more blood, more screams.

She couldn't trust the assurances she was certain to get from Data, the ones that always insisted she hadn't hurt anyone. He had been right each time in the past but this felt... different.

No, she had to see for herself that he was all right.

The override code was punched in without thought, then she was standing in darkness as the door slid closed, blocking out the light from the corridor. After a moment's fearful hesitation, she moved into the adjoining room, stopping at the foot of the bed.

The sleeping figure was clearly visible in the soft starlight, and she wondered how he could look peaceful and alert at the same time.

So peaceful.

He deserved that peace, after what she had done to him.

Jean-Luc stirred, not sure what had woken him, only knowing something had. Turning his head, he saw someone standing in the shadows, barely able to make out tousled russet hair and pale yellow pajamas.

"Rosemary?" he asked softly, sitting up. "Are you all right? What's wrong?"

She didn't answer, simply stood there staring.

Slowly, he slid out of bed, beginning to worry about her lack of response. Neither Deanna nor Judith had reported any episodes of sleepwalking, but this could be a new aberration. It gave him some measure of comfort to see her eyes following him as he moved to stand in front of her. "Rosemary?"

Her left hand trembled visibly as she reached out to let her thumb rest ever so lightly under his right eye as her fingertips fluttered against his temple. She seemed to be seeing something else as her hand drifted over his ear then down the side of his face coming to rest under his chin.

Jean-Luc fought back his own memory as he suddenly recognized the pattern she had traced.

"They were real, weren't they?" she whispered roughly.

He wanted to be able to give her any answer but the one he had, the one she dreaded yet already knew was right. He reached up to take her hand, pressing it to his cool cheek.

"Yes."

The quiet reply snapped her fragile control, and his heart almost stopped at her anguished cry. He caught her as she collapsed, easing her to the floor rather than try to hold her up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she sobbed as he held her tightly.

x~x

Half an hour later, he met Deanna at the door so that she wouldn't have to ring the chime. "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry to wake you at this time of night."

"It's all right, Captain," she replied, taking a seat on the couch. "Where is she?"

He nodded toward the bedroom. "In there, asleep, but she's very restless, so I doubt it will last long." His concern for Rosemary overrode his natural inclination to be embarrassed at the revelation that she was in his bed.

"What happened?"

He stifled a sigh as he sat in the chair opposite her and told her what had transpired. "I considered calling Sickbay for a sedative, but the worst seemed to pass. I tried to explain to her that while the basics of the memory were correct, the Egelloc had turned it around. She finally cried herself to sleep."

"Captain, I don't understand. What exactly was she remembering?"

His hand was steadier than Rosemary's had been as he reached up to touch his cheek. "The Borg implants. The Egelloc convinced her she had put them in rather than removed them." At her gasp, his gaze dropped to the floor, unwilling or unable to look into the dark eyes that he knew were filled with the same horror he was feeling. "Yes, now we know why she was so resistant to the memories about me."

"Of all things... to make her believe she did that... to you." Deanna thought for a moment that she might actually be sick but forced the feeling down. She had to be strong right now, for Rosemary, for the Captain and for herself.

"That's why I called you instead of Counselor McKenna. You were there, Deanna, you know how Beverly felt then, what she went through. You might be better prepared to help her now."

"How are you, sir?"

Picard grunted. He did not want to put words to the dark, almost primitive rage he felt. How could anyone do such a heinous thing to Beverly? How could they take a kind, compassionate woman, a dedicated healer and make her believe that she had done the one thing she would consider more depraved than what had been done to her?

Deanna felt him shut off the anger building in him. Although she knew he would eventually need to discuss his reactions to what had happened to Beverly, right now, she was grateful to be able to focus on one problem at a time.

"Nooo!"

The scream pierced the air, shocking them both out of their grim thoughts. Picard was on his feet before the sound faded, running into the bedroom with Deanna close behind.

She was sitting up, her hands covering her face as she cried. She cringed away from him when he sat on the edge of the bed. "God, Jean-Luc, how can you even stand to be near me? What I did to you..."

"Look at me," he caught her hand, pressing her palm to his cheek where the implant had been. "Touch me. See? Everything is all right. I'm fine."

"But I hurt you..."

He gently lifted her chin so that she had to look at him. "I promise, you didn't hurt me, you helped me. It's all right, Rosemary."

She shook her head, strands of hair sticking to her damp face. "I'm not... Rose... mary," she choked out between sobs. "M-my name is... Beverly."

Jean-Luc took a deep, shuddering breath as he realized what she had said. He kissed her temple tenderly before drawing her into his embrace. "Welcome home, Beverly."

Deanna watched silently, tears falling unchecked as the captain gently rocked Beverly in his arms, murmuring her name over and over again.

-tbc-