*********
Morning of the Magicians
Six
*********
Picard abruptly cut the transmission from his agitated security chief and slammed a fist on his desk. It was an uncharacteristic gesture, and Picard was surprised at himself, surprised at how desperate he had been to speak to this woman. He saw her as his last link to Beverly, and now that chain was broken. He clenched his jaw and his fist tighter. Now what?
He snapped his terminal shut and stalked out of his ready room. He flew through the bridge and to the aft lift. "Sickbay."
When he arrived, Troi was already there. Picard had left Riker and Worf in charge of the investigation behind the death of the young Vulcan woman. He had no concerns now other than Beverly, and if he needed to he would will her back to life, single handedly. He knew that she had done as much for him on several occasions – with the Borg, his heart, more times than he wanted to remember. He now had firsthand knowledge of how hard each of those instances had been for her. He knew it and redoubled his resolve.
It was with this determination that he approached the bed. He took up Beverly's hand and locked eyes with the Deanna. She sensed his intensity and was taken aback. Troi was growing more concerned about Crusher's condition, which Selar said was deteriorating. Now she began to worry about the Captain. She sensed his guilt over the situation, which was of course misplaced. He was a man of extreme emotion, though he worked to keep it firmly in check. But it never fooled her, and she knew that his control now hung by a thread.
His voice was low and thick with emotion as he spoke. "How is she, Counselor?"
It was difficult to answer him – Troi felt as though she were disobeying an order as she replied. "Dr. Selar is concerned that she isn't making progress."
"Is that all?" Picard's brow raised. He could tell by her discomfort that she was not completely forthcoming. A Captain for some twenty years, Jean- Luc knew when crew fudged their answers to please him.
Troi was now resolute in her response. "Her condition is worsening, sir. Dr. Selar says the outlook isn't good." She withdrew from the pain she saw in his eyes.
"Then we must find some answers, Counselor." Anticipating what he'd hear upon arrival in sickbay, Picard had asked Romak to return to the ship. Whatever had been done to Beverly, it had been done by this Vulcan woman, and perhaps a Vulcan could undo it. In the meantime, he took a seat next to Beverly, held her hand firmly, and waited.
*********
Romak arrived accompanied by a very serious looking Vulcan doctor, whom Picard learned was preeminent in the study of the Vulcan mind. After exchanging pleasantries, the two immediately began consulting with Dr. Selar. After a moment, they called over Troi. Picard definitely felt the odd man out, and with a mental shrug resumed his post at Beverly's side. Will had essentially been in charge of ship's operations since Crusher's attack on Picard, and Jean-Luc found that while he would not want to make the situation permanent, he rather enjoyed the time he spent with Beverly, though he wished it were under better circumstance.
Picard took a minute to study her. She lay as though asleep, her auburn hair neatly secured at the base of her neck. Nurse Powell had tied it back, but Jean-Luc pictured it in his mind splayed across the stark white pillow. Her skin was paler than usual, no blush at all in her cheeks. Her nose, mouth, brows, were all the same. But what was missing made his heart ache – her piercing blue eyes, which had always cut right through to his core. It mattered little what they might be speaking of, she was always able to stop him cold with one look.
His voice was hoarse as he leaned in to whisper. "Beverly, come back to me." It was all he could manage. Suddenly aware of his surroundings, he quickly pulled the comfortable cloak of authority back around him and struggled to regain his perspective. He coughed and sat up in his chair and refocused his attention on the gathering in Crusher's office.
The group broke up, grim faces spread among them. They approached Crusher's bedside. Picard stood, brows raised in expectation.
Troi came forward. "Romak, Selar, Htepar and I believe there may be a way to reach Beverly." She sighed and continued, her dark eyes stormy. "It's a longshot."
Picard looked down to Crusher's inanimate features. "I see that we have little choice."
Htepar stepped forward. "I have studied carefully the deaths of Ambasador Menar and those surrounding him. I believe that they were victims of an old Vulcan mind control technique. It is most ancient, and widely believed to be mythical in nature. We have never seen an instance in modern Vulcan times. But these cases fit the agreed upon descriptions of the practice." He looked over Beverly curiously, as though studying a specimen.
Picard disliked it and cleared his throat. "What do you propose, Htpar?"
"The technique used on the Doctor and the others involves what we now think of as hypnosis. An idea is implanted, and the victim is sustained until they fulfill their objective, after which they retreat into the state you see now. Eventually they stop functioning all together." The tall man stepped closer to Crusher's side. Jean-Luc could not help but notice how vulnerable she appeared in contrast to the man's significant stature. "I can attempt to reach the Doctor through a mind-meld. But without knowing her mental state, or whether she can participate, the link will be tenuous and risky."
Troi walked over to the Captain's side and placed a hand on his arm. "Htepar, we cannot ask you to risk your own safety. Is there any other way?"
Htepar shook his head and looked back to Romak. "We discussed the situation before we arrived here. The Vulcan government is most concerned with the events that have unfolded. If indeed this tradition has been revived, we are most anxious to make sure it goes no further."
Picard nodded. His expression was grave. "When can you begin?"
Romak, Troi and Htepar all exchanged glances. "Dr. Selar believes that Crusher's situation continues to destabilize. We will begin immediately."
"Very well. Proceed." Picard stepped away as the team came forward. Selar positioned Crusher in a partially sitting position. Htepar met Romak's eyes, nodded, and laid his long fingers on Crusher's temple. Troi stood next to Picard, her hands clasped at her waist. Selar hovered at the other side of the bed with an open tricorder.
Htepar's brow furrowed, then relaxed as he came into contact with Beverly's mind. His features continued to be animated as time crawled by. Troi strained to sense anything from either, but found the feelings unintelligible. Picard's intense emotions didn't help.
Jean-Luc steeled his reserves and worked to maintain his composure as they waited. Htepar did not appear to be struggling, and Picard knew that it wasn't a good sign. A mind meld with two active participants would tax Htepar mightily – that stress was not evident. Minutes passed and Htepar remained focused. Finally, he shuddered and broke the contact.
*********
Beverly kneeled at Picard's feet, studying his corpse. She remembered falling asleep on the couch. She remembered what had happened before that, and she tried to stop as her mind reeled off the horrifying events of the previous night. She had murdered him. Her heart was heavy, and there was a knot in her stomach. Her lungs struggled for air. She could not see past the moment, could see nothing tethering her to this life. She'd brought the blood-streaked knife with her as she sat next to Jean-Luc. Tears flowed down her face. She picked up the knife and held it, staring intently. The Ave Maria began to swell in volume. She turned the knife over in her hands, drawing it slowly across her palm. Her blood mixed with Picard's and she smiled wanly. She felt a sense of peace creeping into the darkness overwhelming her soul as the blood trickled down her arm.
She gathered her resolve and moved the knife toward her wrists. She began to draw it up her forearm, not yet applying significant pressure. But as the bright red drops appeared on her delicate, pale arm she smiled wider, intrigued.
Suddenly, she lost her focus. She dropped the knife and shook her head. Images began fleeting across her mind. Her past, the Enterprise, and........... Vulcan. People she did not recognize spoke to her, and she saw herself responding. Wesley appeared, and then morphed into another person she didn't recognize.
Inside her head, the music was replaced by a voice. It did not articulate words, but impressions to her. It was calling her, asking her to go someplace. Where? She blinked furiously and stood, staggering around the room and holding her head. The voice was growing stronger, but the music increased in volume as well. Everything was so loud. She was so confused. She opened her mouth, not to speak but to try and relieve the pressure in her head. A soft moan escaped her lips. She stumbled forward and fell over Picard's body, knocking against the bulkhead. Everything went black.
*********
Htepar fell back from Crusher with a start. Selar came over and guided him to a biobed. Picard went to Crusher's side and watched the beeping on the biobed. Her readings edged down further. Htepar had not been successful. One look back at the man confirmed it, as he met Picard's eyes and shook his head.
Pircard looked down to Beverly, desperation in his eyes. He reluctantly let go of her hand and joined Troi and the others at Htepar's bedside. After a moment the tall man sat up and brought his legs gently over the side of the bed. Slowly, he began to speak.
"It was strange. It was not like a typical mind meld. I could sense nothing of Doctor Crusher past the reality she is in right now." He paused. "She is with you, Captain Picard. She sees what would be if she had been successful in murdering you. Her remorse is overwhelming. She is intent on taking her own life. I believe that when she fulfills that reality in her dream, she will die." his delivery was monotone. "I am sorry Captain, Counselor."
Picard brought his hand to his lips, his brow and jaw tense. He paced. Momentarily he spoke, his voice low but insistent. "No. We will find another way." He walked back over to Htepar. "Were you able to reach her at all?"
Htepar nodded. "Yes, barely. The programming is very strong. She is fighting me. She doesn't know me, or trust me. She's confused."
Picard nodded, deep in thought. "Then she needs to hear from someone she trusts." He turned to Troi. "Deanna, would you be able to go in with Htepar? To bring Beverly out?"
She shook her head, as did Htepar. He spoke first. "There is no way I know of to conduct a three-way mind-meld. Besides, the programming is strong. She believes you are dead, Captain. She would need to see you to believe she had not murdered you."
Picard seemed nonchalant. "Then we will find a way for me to go in and bring her out."
*********
"Mrs. Troi." Picard stepped forward to greet the woman flowing off of the transporter platform.
"Why Jean-Luc. I don't believe you've ever been so genuinely happy to see me!" She took him by the shoulders and looked deep into his eyes, a bit of her ubiquitous effervescence dimming momentarily. "We will try our best, Jean-Luc." She smiled warmly and moved on to Counselor Troi. "Little One! How HAVE you been?"
Though Picard could not shake the intensely morose feeling in the pit of his stomach, Lwaxana Troi could not help but make you smile. He turned, spreading his arms. "Let us adjourn to the observation lounge."
*********
"Of course we can make it work, Jean-Luc. I like the way you think." Lwaxana waved her arm at Picard.
Htepar's hands were steepled. He looked dubious. "The chance of success is small."
"Our chance if we do nothing is smaller." Picard stood abruptly and pulled at his uniform, glancing to Troi, Selar, Romak, and Htepar. None had the fortitude to oppose him. He was a man possessed. If there were any chance at saving Beverly, they would take it. He would not lose her. "Let us begin." He turned and walked briskly out, followed by Lwaxana, hot on his heels. The others trailed behind, skeptical but resolute.
*********
The group stood around a very pale Beverly Crusher. They had traveled another day to Betazed, and the Doctor's condition was now critical. Her life signs were hovering just within maintainable parameters. Selar knew that she would not live out the night. This was their last shot. She pulled stools around the CMO's bedside. Htepar, Lwaxana and Picard each sat. Troi hovered on the other side of the bed.
Lwaxana met Picard's hesitant eyes. "Now Jean-Luc, I need you to relax. I know this is hard for you to do dear, but you must trust me." She took his hands. Picard tensed, but thought of Beverly and relaxed. Her temper, her mischievous grin, the spark in her eye.
"There you go dear. Keep thinking about her." Lwaxana closed her eyes and focused on Picard. His thoughts were warm. He would need them if he were to get Beverly out. She felt herself being swept away in his thoughts. His mind was extremely powerful, very controlled. She let herself be pulled away in the tide, taking in all his memories.
She saw a young Beverly Howard struggling across the Starfleet Academy grounds, a load of padds and bundles in her arms. A long firebrand of red hair blew out behind her. A male voice spoke. "There she is Johnny – my Beverly. What do you think?"
Picard's voice was thick. He felt as though he had been sucker punched, the air ripped from his lungs. Beautiful? "She is a vision, Jack."
The warm autumn breeze faded away and then they were onboard the Enterprise. Picard was standing on the bridge, yelling at Wesley Crusher. Then he saw her, for the first time in years, and his heart skipped a beat. He hardly heard a word she said. He was simply entranced by the sound of her voice.
Now Lwaxana retracted as she felt an intense surge of pain. The next memories ran together, but Beverly's form appeared throughout it all. There were Borg, Cardassians, and emptiness, hopelessness. Mrs. Troi urged him on, through that period. Now she gazed through Picard's eyes as he sat across a small table from Beverly. They were speaking, leaned in toward each other, eyes glimmering. There were candles, wine. A very intimate moment. Picard's emotions were so intense that Lwaxana realized it was beginning to be difficult to differentiate herself from them. She retracted and opened her eyes.
Picard sat, a content smile playing on his lips. He opened his eyes to meet the elder Troi's. His face flushed as he realized the nature of his thoughts, and he averted his eyes.
"Now there's nothing to be ashamed of Jean-Luc. You should be thrilled to have such wonderful memories." She patted him on the cheek and whipped around to Htepar. "We're ready."
He nodded his assent. He again placed his hand across Beverly's temple. Again, there was the sudden jolt as he came into contact with her mind. As he did so, he felt Lwaxana begin to slip into his consciousness. Picard was there with her. There were so many voices, thoughts. He began to lose focus, lose himself. He was simply a conduit now, and Htepar briefly wondered if he would ever find his way back out.
He let go of those thoughts as he saw Beverly lying next to Picard's prone body. She was holding him, sobbing. Her gaze was fixated on the knife, which was fresh with her own blood. She was devout now in her will to join him. There was nothing else for her here. What had she done? What kind of monster was she? The music was so strong now. Again, she felt peace ebbing in. Quiet. The contentment of nothing.
Htepar watched it all. "Hold on, Doctor." Crusher looked up. There was that same voice. She disregarded it. It wasn't important.
Now there was another voice. A woman. This one, she recognized. "There's no need to worry, Doctor. Now just relax and we'll get you out of this awful mess."
Beverly shook her head. She cradled Picard tightly. "Nooo. Stop. Just stop. Please." She closed her eyes and willed it all to go away. She turned to the music and focused on it. It was so peaceful.
Then, she heard him. "Beverly." His voice was calming, steady, even. It was the tone he reserved for her most distraught moments. The one that she could not object to, the one that commanded her attention. "Jean-Luc?" She looked down, but his body was still, cold. It could not be.
"Beverly, I'm here." She looked around furiously. She could not see him. But for once, in such a long time, there was silence in her head. She was exclusively focused on finding Picard. It was his voice. She would know it anywhere. But she could not object to the evidence before her. Tears flowed anew down her cheeks. She was hallucinating.
"Enough!" She put her hands to her temples and pushed Picard aside. She crawled toward the knife.
"Beverly." It was that tone again. It was still calm, but now with a touch of warning. Not quite scolding. The one he used when she was facing something difficult, something she didn't want to do. The one that told her she had no choice.
She sat, knife in her hands. "Jean-Luc?" She closed her eyes. She was very tired.
"Beverly." She opened her eyes and turned. There he was, standing above her. She looked back to where he had lain. The body was gone. She turned back. He stood, a welcome expression on his face. He offered her his hand.
Tentatively, she reached up. "Jean-Luc?"
"Yes. It's me. It's time for you to come back now." His tone was even, measured, and insistent.
She took his hand and stood. She burst into tears and threw her arms around him. Surprised, he staggered backward. "Jean-Luc. I thought.............."
"I know. I know." He took her in his arms and stroked her hair. A great sigh escaped him. He closed his eyes, and held her tightly. He would not let her go.
*********
Morning of the Magicians
Six
*********
Picard abruptly cut the transmission from his agitated security chief and slammed a fist on his desk. It was an uncharacteristic gesture, and Picard was surprised at himself, surprised at how desperate he had been to speak to this woman. He saw her as his last link to Beverly, and now that chain was broken. He clenched his jaw and his fist tighter. Now what?
He snapped his terminal shut and stalked out of his ready room. He flew through the bridge and to the aft lift. "Sickbay."
When he arrived, Troi was already there. Picard had left Riker and Worf in charge of the investigation behind the death of the young Vulcan woman. He had no concerns now other than Beverly, and if he needed to he would will her back to life, single handedly. He knew that she had done as much for him on several occasions – with the Borg, his heart, more times than he wanted to remember. He now had firsthand knowledge of how hard each of those instances had been for her. He knew it and redoubled his resolve.
It was with this determination that he approached the bed. He took up Beverly's hand and locked eyes with the Deanna. She sensed his intensity and was taken aback. Troi was growing more concerned about Crusher's condition, which Selar said was deteriorating. Now she began to worry about the Captain. She sensed his guilt over the situation, which was of course misplaced. He was a man of extreme emotion, though he worked to keep it firmly in check. But it never fooled her, and she knew that his control now hung by a thread.
His voice was low and thick with emotion as he spoke. "How is she, Counselor?"
It was difficult to answer him – Troi felt as though she were disobeying an order as she replied. "Dr. Selar is concerned that she isn't making progress."
"Is that all?" Picard's brow raised. He could tell by her discomfort that she was not completely forthcoming. A Captain for some twenty years, Jean- Luc knew when crew fudged their answers to please him.
Troi was now resolute in her response. "Her condition is worsening, sir. Dr. Selar says the outlook isn't good." She withdrew from the pain she saw in his eyes.
"Then we must find some answers, Counselor." Anticipating what he'd hear upon arrival in sickbay, Picard had asked Romak to return to the ship. Whatever had been done to Beverly, it had been done by this Vulcan woman, and perhaps a Vulcan could undo it. In the meantime, he took a seat next to Beverly, held her hand firmly, and waited.
*********
Romak arrived accompanied by a very serious looking Vulcan doctor, whom Picard learned was preeminent in the study of the Vulcan mind. After exchanging pleasantries, the two immediately began consulting with Dr. Selar. After a moment, they called over Troi. Picard definitely felt the odd man out, and with a mental shrug resumed his post at Beverly's side. Will had essentially been in charge of ship's operations since Crusher's attack on Picard, and Jean-Luc found that while he would not want to make the situation permanent, he rather enjoyed the time he spent with Beverly, though he wished it were under better circumstance.
Picard took a minute to study her. She lay as though asleep, her auburn hair neatly secured at the base of her neck. Nurse Powell had tied it back, but Jean-Luc pictured it in his mind splayed across the stark white pillow. Her skin was paler than usual, no blush at all in her cheeks. Her nose, mouth, brows, were all the same. But what was missing made his heart ache – her piercing blue eyes, which had always cut right through to his core. It mattered little what they might be speaking of, she was always able to stop him cold with one look.
His voice was hoarse as he leaned in to whisper. "Beverly, come back to me." It was all he could manage. Suddenly aware of his surroundings, he quickly pulled the comfortable cloak of authority back around him and struggled to regain his perspective. He coughed and sat up in his chair and refocused his attention on the gathering in Crusher's office.
The group broke up, grim faces spread among them. They approached Crusher's bedside. Picard stood, brows raised in expectation.
Troi came forward. "Romak, Selar, Htepar and I believe there may be a way to reach Beverly." She sighed and continued, her dark eyes stormy. "It's a longshot."
Picard looked down to Crusher's inanimate features. "I see that we have little choice."
Htepar stepped forward. "I have studied carefully the deaths of Ambasador Menar and those surrounding him. I believe that they were victims of an old Vulcan mind control technique. It is most ancient, and widely believed to be mythical in nature. We have never seen an instance in modern Vulcan times. But these cases fit the agreed upon descriptions of the practice." He looked over Beverly curiously, as though studying a specimen.
Picard disliked it and cleared his throat. "What do you propose, Htpar?"
"The technique used on the Doctor and the others involves what we now think of as hypnosis. An idea is implanted, and the victim is sustained until they fulfill their objective, after which they retreat into the state you see now. Eventually they stop functioning all together." The tall man stepped closer to Crusher's side. Jean-Luc could not help but notice how vulnerable she appeared in contrast to the man's significant stature. "I can attempt to reach the Doctor through a mind-meld. But without knowing her mental state, or whether she can participate, the link will be tenuous and risky."
Troi walked over to the Captain's side and placed a hand on his arm. "Htepar, we cannot ask you to risk your own safety. Is there any other way?"
Htepar shook his head and looked back to Romak. "We discussed the situation before we arrived here. The Vulcan government is most concerned with the events that have unfolded. If indeed this tradition has been revived, we are most anxious to make sure it goes no further."
Picard nodded. His expression was grave. "When can you begin?"
Romak, Troi and Htepar all exchanged glances. "Dr. Selar believes that Crusher's situation continues to destabilize. We will begin immediately."
"Very well. Proceed." Picard stepped away as the team came forward. Selar positioned Crusher in a partially sitting position. Htepar met Romak's eyes, nodded, and laid his long fingers on Crusher's temple. Troi stood next to Picard, her hands clasped at her waist. Selar hovered at the other side of the bed with an open tricorder.
Htepar's brow furrowed, then relaxed as he came into contact with Beverly's mind. His features continued to be animated as time crawled by. Troi strained to sense anything from either, but found the feelings unintelligible. Picard's intense emotions didn't help.
Jean-Luc steeled his reserves and worked to maintain his composure as they waited. Htepar did not appear to be struggling, and Picard knew that it wasn't a good sign. A mind meld with two active participants would tax Htepar mightily – that stress was not evident. Minutes passed and Htepar remained focused. Finally, he shuddered and broke the contact.
*********
Beverly kneeled at Picard's feet, studying his corpse. She remembered falling asleep on the couch. She remembered what had happened before that, and she tried to stop as her mind reeled off the horrifying events of the previous night. She had murdered him. Her heart was heavy, and there was a knot in her stomach. Her lungs struggled for air. She could not see past the moment, could see nothing tethering her to this life. She'd brought the blood-streaked knife with her as she sat next to Jean-Luc. Tears flowed down her face. She picked up the knife and held it, staring intently. The Ave Maria began to swell in volume. She turned the knife over in her hands, drawing it slowly across her palm. Her blood mixed with Picard's and she smiled wanly. She felt a sense of peace creeping into the darkness overwhelming her soul as the blood trickled down her arm.
She gathered her resolve and moved the knife toward her wrists. She began to draw it up her forearm, not yet applying significant pressure. But as the bright red drops appeared on her delicate, pale arm she smiled wider, intrigued.
Suddenly, she lost her focus. She dropped the knife and shook her head. Images began fleeting across her mind. Her past, the Enterprise, and........... Vulcan. People she did not recognize spoke to her, and she saw herself responding. Wesley appeared, and then morphed into another person she didn't recognize.
Inside her head, the music was replaced by a voice. It did not articulate words, but impressions to her. It was calling her, asking her to go someplace. Where? She blinked furiously and stood, staggering around the room and holding her head. The voice was growing stronger, but the music increased in volume as well. Everything was so loud. She was so confused. She opened her mouth, not to speak but to try and relieve the pressure in her head. A soft moan escaped her lips. She stumbled forward and fell over Picard's body, knocking against the bulkhead. Everything went black.
*********
Htepar fell back from Crusher with a start. Selar came over and guided him to a biobed. Picard went to Crusher's side and watched the beeping on the biobed. Her readings edged down further. Htepar had not been successful. One look back at the man confirmed it, as he met Picard's eyes and shook his head.
Pircard looked down to Beverly, desperation in his eyes. He reluctantly let go of her hand and joined Troi and the others at Htepar's bedside. After a moment the tall man sat up and brought his legs gently over the side of the bed. Slowly, he began to speak.
"It was strange. It was not like a typical mind meld. I could sense nothing of Doctor Crusher past the reality she is in right now." He paused. "She is with you, Captain Picard. She sees what would be if she had been successful in murdering you. Her remorse is overwhelming. She is intent on taking her own life. I believe that when she fulfills that reality in her dream, she will die." his delivery was monotone. "I am sorry Captain, Counselor."
Picard brought his hand to his lips, his brow and jaw tense. He paced. Momentarily he spoke, his voice low but insistent. "No. We will find another way." He walked back over to Htepar. "Were you able to reach her at all?"
Htepar nodded. "Yes, barely. The programming is very strong. She is fighting me. She doesn't know me, or trust me. She's confused."
Picard nodded, deep in thought. "Then she needs to hear from someone she trusts." He turned to Troi. "Deanna, would you be able to go in with Htepar? To bring Beverly out?"
She shook her head, as did Htepar. He spoke first. "There is no way I know of to conduct a three-way mind-meld. Besides, the programming is strong. She believes you are dead, Captain. She would need to see you to believe she had not murdered you."
Picard seemed nonchalant. "Then we will find a way for me to go in and bring her out."
*********
"Mrs. Troi." Picard stepped forward to greet the woman flowing off of the transporter platform.
"Why Jean-Luc. I don't believe you've ever been so genuinely happy to see me!" She took him by the shoulders and looked deep into his eyes, a bit of her ubiquitous effervescence dimming momentarily. "We will try our best, Jean-Luc." She smiled warmly and moved on to Counselor Troi. "Little One! How HAVE you been?"
Though Picard could not shake the intensely morose feeling in the pit of his stomach, Lwaxana Troi could not help but make you smile. He turned, spreading his arms. "Let us adjourn to the observation lounge."
*********
"Of course we can make it work, Jean-Luc. I like the way you think." Lwaxana waved her arm at Picard.
Htepar's hands were steepled. He looked dubious. "The chance of success is small."
"Our chance if we do nothing is smaller." Picard stood abruptly and pulled at his uniform, glancing to Troi, Selar, Romak, and Htepar. None had the fortitude to oppose him. He was a man possessed. If there were any chance at saving Beverly, they would take it. He would not lose her. "Let us begin." He turned and walked briskly out, followed by Lwaxana, hot on his heels. The others trailed behind, skeptical but resolute.
*********
The group stood around a very pale Beverly Crusher. They had traveled another day to Betazed, and the Doctor's condition was now critical. Her life signs were hovering just within maintainable parameters. Selar knew that she would not live out the night. This was their last shot. She pulled stools around the CMO's bedside. Htepar, Lwaxana and Picard each sat. Troi hovered on the other side of the bed.
Lwaxana met Picard's hesitant eyes. "Now Jean-Luc, I need you to relax. I know this is hard for you to do dear, but you must trust me." She took his hands. Picard tensed, but thought of Beverly and relaxed. Her temper, her mischievous grin, the spark in her eye.
"There you go dear. Keep thinking about her." Lwaxana closed her eyes and focused on Picard. His thoughts were warm. He would need them if he were to get Beverly out. She felt herself being swept away in his thoughts. His mind was extremely powerful, very controlled. She let herself be pulled away in the tide, taking in all his memories.
She saw a young Beverly Howard struggling across the Starfleet Academy grounds, a load of padds and bundles in her arms. A long firebrand of red hair blew out behind her. A male voice spoke. "There she is Johnny – my Beverly. What do you think?"
Picard's voice was thick. He felt as though he had been sucker punched, the air ripped from his lungs. Beautiful? "She is a vision, Jack."
The warm autumn breeze faded away and then they were onboard the Enterprise. Picard was standing on the bridge, yelling at Wesley Crusher. Then he saw her, for the first time in years, and his heart skipped a beat. He hardly heard a word she said. He was simply entranced by the sound of her voice.
Now Lwaxana retracted as she felt an intense surge of pain. The next memories ran together, but Beverly's form appeared throughout it all. There were Borg, Cardassians, and emptiness, hopelessness. Mrs. Troi urged him on, through that period. Now she gazed through Picard's eyes as he sat across a small table from Beverly. They were speaking, leaned in toward each other, eyes glimmering. There were candles, wine. A very intimate moment. Picard's emotions were so intense that Lwaxana realized it was beginning to be difficult to differentiate herself from them. She retracted and opened her eyes.
Picard sat, a content smile playing on his lips. He opened his eyes to meet the elder Troi's. His face flushed as he realized the nature of his thoughts, and he averted his eyes.
"Now there's nothing to be ashamed of Jean-Luc. You should be thrilled to have such wonderful memories." She patted him on the cheek and whipped around to Htepar. "We're ready."
He nodded his assent. He again placed his hand across Beverly's temple. Again, there was the sudden jolt as he came into contact with her mind. As he did so, he felt Lwaxana begin to slip into his consciousness. Picard was there with her. There were so many voices, thoughts. He began to lose focus, lose himself. He was simply a conduit now, and Htepar briefly wondered if he would ever find his way back out.
He let go of those thoughts as he saw Beverly lying next to Picard's prone body. She was holding him, sobbing. Her gaze was fixated on the knife, which was fresh with her own blood. She was devout now in her will to join him. There was nothing else for her here. What had she done? What kind of monster was she? The music was so strong now. Again, she felt peace ebbing in. Quiet. The contentment of nothing.
Htepar watched it all. "Hold on, Doctor." Crusher looked up. There was that same voice. She disregarded it. It wasn't important.
Now there was another voice. A woman. This one, she recognized. "There's no need to worry, Doctor. Now just relax and we'll get you out of this awful mess."
Beverly shook her head. She cradled Picard tightly. "Nooo. Stop. Just stop. Please." She closed her eyes and willed it all to go away. She turned to the music and focused on it. It was so peaceful.
Then, she heard him. "Beverly." His voice was calming, steady, even. It was the tone he reserved for her most distraught moments. The one that she could not object to, the one that commanded her attention. "Jean-Luc?" She looked down, but his body was still, cold. It could not be.
"Beverly, I'm here." She looked around furiously. She could not see him. But for once, in such a long time, there was silence in her head. She was exclusively focused on finding Picard. It was his voice. She would know it anywhere. But she could not object to the evidence before her. Tears flowed anew down her cheeks. She was hallucinating.
"Enough!" She put her hands to her temples and pushed Picard aside. She crawled toward the knife.
"Beverly." It was that tone again. It was still calm, but now with a touch of warning. Not quite scolding. The one he used when she was facing something difficult, something she didn't want to do. The one that told her she had no choice.
She sat, knife in her hands. "Jean-Luc?" She closed her eyes. She was very tired.
"Beverly." She opened her eyes and turned. There he was, standing above her. She looked back to where he had lain. The body was gone. She turned back. He stood, a welcome expression on his face. He offered her his hand.
Tentatively, she reached up. "Jean-Luc?"
"Yes. It's me. It's time for you to come back now." His tone was even, measured, and insistent.
She took his hand and stood. She burst into tears and threw her arms around him. Surprised, he staggered backward. "Jean-Luc. I thought.............."
"I know. I know." He took her in his arms and stroked her hair. A great sigh escaped him. He closed his eyes, and held her tightly. He would not let her go.
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