That morning in Sickbay was mercifully uneventful. Beverly had made her way back and had immediately began her work, checking on the crop of Diomedian scarlet moss she had started. The spores were growing steadily. At least something is going according to plan.

She had also checked on her patient, but there was still no change. Her eyes remained closed and her limbs immobile, as if she were waiting for Prince Charming to wake her with a kiss, like that ancient tale she used to read to Wesley when he was little. It was in an old children's book that had been passed down through the generations in the Howard family. Her Nana used to read it to her when she was little and her parents were no longer around, and she had taken it with her when she had built her new family with Jack. It contained every classic European tale ever written on Earth. Some of them were quite frightening, but Wesley's favourite was the one about the boy who killed giants. That was, after all, the future Beverly metaphorically pictured for him.

After that, she had engaged in one of her favourite pastimes as of late: riddling Alyssa with questions about the new guy she was dating. She always felt giddy when love was in the air, and she truly hoped everything would go smoothly for her friend. This time though, Alyssa's answers abruptly brought her down from her high. Things were not going so well with Andrew because he seemed always distant and was putting in several overtime hours, so that their shifts seldomly matched. His new research proposal was keeping him busy, and the nurse feared that he was losing interest in their budding romance. Beverly tried to reassure her friend. After all it was evident that they both cared deeply for the other, surely Lieutenant Powell was just overworked, there was nothing to worry about.

She was just checking on some data in her office when none other than Reginald Barclay entered the doors to Sickbay and made a beeline to a biobed. Beverly sighed and got up, peeking from her office door.

"Mr. Barclay!", she called to him. "Do you need assistance?"

He looked startled. "Yes, please, d- doctor."

She grabbed a medical tricorder and walked up to her most assiduous patient.

"What seems to be the problem?", she asked while scanning him.

"I- It's just that this morning… while I was having breakfast… I felt a tightness in my chest right here…" He pointed to his sternum. "And a jabbing pain here…" He pointed to his ribs. "I c- checked with the computer and you know… this sounds almost identical to the early stages of K- Kretar lung disease…".

The doctor hummed.

"That bad? Tell me honestly, doctor."

"I have good news and bad news. The good news is that you most certainly don't have Kretar lung disease, the bad news is you need to start sitting up properly. Your external intercostal muscles were cramping, that's all." She lightly patted his arm. "Reg, you're all right."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

Barclay looked ready to faint.

"Tell you what, I've been meaning to ask you if you'd be willing to play the main character in a play I've got my eye on. It's called Six Characters in Search of an Author. I've been trying to convince Mr. Riker but he's avoiding me, I'll just have to be a little more persuasive…"

"Will- Will you be able to do it even if you have your hands full at the moment?" He interrupted.

"Uhm, what do you mean?"

"Well… with everything that is going on… rumour has it that the Enterprise found a c- clone of you…"

Beverly blushed slightly. For some reason it bothered her to have the crew gossip about the situation. "No, Reg, we didn't find a clone. She's from another reality. She is… well, she is me."

Barclay's eyes went the size of saucers. "S- She is you? Oh my… Do you know how she ended up here?"

"Unfortunately, not. We're waiting for her to wake up."

Barclay could no longer restrain his curiosity. "Could I… see her?"

Beverly wondered why on earth her colleague was so intrigued with the other Beverly. But she figured it wouldn't hurt anyone, besides she would do anything to keep his mind from wandering to possible new diseases and illnesses. With a nod she showed him to a secluded section of Sickbay, designed to give more privacy to delicate patients.

As she opened the curtains, Barclay gasped. "The r-resemblance is… uncanny." He took in her gaunt and pale appearance. "She doesn't look all right."

"I've done everything I can do for now. I suspect she'd been drifting in that shuttle for at least three days without food and water. When we found her, environmental controls had given up and hypothermia was just setting in."

"I wonder what happened to her Enterprise…"

Beverly didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. "So do I…"

ooOoo

Bleep.

Bleep.

Beverly froze mid-action and her eyes shot up. A monitor was undoubtedly calling for her attention, and she had a gut feeling it was that monitor. Slowly she left her office and headed for the direction of the bleeping, drawing the curtain that gave privacy to a secluded area of Sickbay.

"Doctor Crusher to Captain Picard. She's waking up".

"On my way."

Earlier that day, she had attended a meeting with the senior staff to choose the best tactic to implement upon the other Beverly's waking up. She had never felt so exposed and at the centre of unwanted attention, constantly feeling her colleagues' eyes on her, especially Deanna's. Stop being paranoic, she had mentally chastised herself. They had come to the conclusion that it was best to allow her patient to acclimatize herself before shocking her into the new reality she had to face, therefore the doctor would have to wait on the sidelines before showing herself to her counterpart.

"Alyssa!" Beverly called to the other side of the room. The nurse was at her side immediately. "She's waking up, please prepare a hypospray."

"Right away, doctor."

Just then the doors to Sickbay swished open, revealing Picard, Data and the counselor.

The captain moved to Beverly's side. "Is she awake?"

"Not yet, I was waiting for you."

"Then let's do it", said Picard, lightly squeezing the doctor's shoulder.

The three of them moved to the other Beverly's bedside, while the doctor retreated to her office. Alyssa hovered close with the hypospray, waiting for the captain's command.

He sighed. "Now."

ooOoo

The world was a haze. Different colours mixed together behind her eyes, faded hues of blue and red, grey and yellow giving a pale tint to blurred lines and shapes. The light stung her eyes, driving needles into her skull. Her first instinct was to retreat into herself, into the black void she was being drawn from, where she knew she was safe and nothing could hurt her. But then she heard voices, familiar voices, calling out to her, saying her name, and as much as she resisted, her consciousness finally slammed into her as if time had sped up.

She slowly opened her eyes, batting her eyelashes to clear her vision. The familiar grey of a starship's interior greeted her, and as she focused on the ceiling, she realised she was in a Sickbay. Her Sickbay? Her eyes searched the room; there was something terribly wrong with this scenario, but she couldn't quite pin it down, at least until she saw a familiar figure standing by her bedside, looking at her with concerned lines around his eyes.

"Jean-Luc?", she croaked.

Wait.

She sat up abruptly, shaking off Alyssa's hand. "Jean-Luc?", her voice broke, and before anyone could react, she had thrown her arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest. "Jean-Luc, it's you… you're here… you're all right…"

A stunned Picard slowly lifted his arms and patted her on the back, feeling the front of his uniform get wetter by the second as she repeated his name like a mantra, clinging onto him for dear life, her head buried in his embrace and her auburn hair tickling his chin.

Data and Troi had taken a step back, waiting for Beverly to ride it out. They had expected a similar reaction to the traumatic events she had experienced and to seeing her commanding officer still in one piece. They hadn't, however, expected her to kiss him. But she did: she disentangled herself from their embrace and planted her still quivering lips on his, her face streaked with tears.

Picard clearly hadn't expected the situation to escalate so, but he quickly regained his composure, clearing his throat. As he took her gently by the shoulders to distance himself from her, he began, "Doctor Crusher, there is something we must tell you-"

She seemed to be a little taken aback by the captain's stern behaviour, "Jean-Luc, it's me… Where is Wesley, is he okay? Can I see him?" At that point, she noticed Troi and Data standing in the corner. "Deanna? Oh my God… You're all right? But I thought-"

"Please, doctor, let me finish." Picard gripped her shoulders with a little more urgency. "You are on the starship Enterprise-D, but this is not your Enterprise. Somehow you were pulled from your reality into another reality, ours. We are not your crew, as a matter of fact there is another Beverly Crusher here."

Doctor Crusher picked up on her cue and crossed the door to her office, standing in full view of the other Beverly.

She seemed to not have any words left. After clearing her throat, she shakily said, "Look, if this is a prank…"

"We assure you it's not. We're very sorry."

Her face scrunched up and her hands pushed away the captain's arms. "You can't be serious." She slid off the biobed, dodging Alyssa's hands once again. She put the biobed between her and the group of officers, asking, "Where's Wesley?" Her tone held a subtle warning, and her darting eyes laid on the doctor. "You took him." A low growl escaped her trembling lips.

"No…" The other Crusher couldn't notice, but Beverly too had tears in her eyes. It was her worst nightmare unfolding in front of her, that woman could be her someday.

"You did! I want him back!" The other Beverly felt a tightness in her chest and a burning feeling in her lungs and stomach, but she wasn't mentally equipped to fight against the pain of the loss, so she fought the frauds that were taunting her. Or at least she tried, before hearing a hiss and feeling a light sting in her neck, landing in a heap on the floor at Data's feet.

Data looked up. "That went well."

Two pairs of eyes gave the android a death glare.

"I am sorry, I am currently trying to learn humour." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Not now, Data." Picard turned around, but the doctor was no longer there.