4.

Silence. Something was wrong. Where was the beeping and humming of the computers, where was the continuous rumour of voices behind the door, the occasional muffled scream, the crying of small children, the hurried steps, clinking of glass, the sound of a room, an entire house, full of ill and dying people? The sound of the wings of the angel of death. Where was it? Where they all dead? Had the final mutation occurred and set in while she was stupidly wasting her time with sleep, carried them all away in one swift, brutal stroke?

Beverly kept her eyes firmly shut and started to breathe heavily. A terrible headache was drilling into her skull, right between her eyebrows. She tried to concentrate.

Something touched her arm, and she screamed.

"Shhh, it's alright."

"What- who- where-?"

"Beverly, it's me. It's Jean-Luc. You're on the Enterprise."

"On the- Jean-Luc? What are you- Wait a minute. You sent a message. You said you weren't coming."

He flinched. "Not that I wasn't coming. That I'd be delayed. Now I'm here."

"Now you're – oh! Right." She pushed the hair out of her face and looked around the room. Suddenly, she thought of something and turned back towards him. The sudden movement almost made her faint from the pain.

"Oh!"

"Are you in pain? Headache?"

She nodded, momentarily incapable of speech.

"Here. Nurse Ogawa told me to give you this." He pressed a hypospray against her neck, and almost immediately relief washed over her.

"Wow. Thanks. That was a real killer."

For the first time, she seemed to focus. "Where's Dr. Selar?"

"Down on the planet."

"Is it working? The serum, the cure?"

"Yes."

"My team, are they- "

"They are all on the Enterprise, resting."

"And what-?"

"We have 76 people down there, Beverly. Maintenance, technicians, medical personnel, research. Dr. Selar estimates it will take about one week for this illness to be effectively eliminated from the planet. You will have time enough to consult with her and the rest of you team. Right now, you need to go back to sleep."

She couldn't think of any more questions, so she flopped back onto the pillow and closed her eyes. After two seconds she opened them again. "I'm not tired."

"Nurse Ogawa said there could be insomnia. She gave me this."

He pulled out the other hypospray, but Beverly raised her arm, blocking his way.

"No, wait. How long have I slept?"

"Not nearly long enough. About five hours."

"And what are you doing here?"

He was silent for one, two, three, four heartbeats. Then he said:

"Just watching."

"Watching me sleep?"

"Yes."

"You've never done that."

"No. I haven't."

Finally, Beverly let her head sink back onto the pillow again, closed her eyes and said:

"You should go get some sleep. The second you give me that hypo, I'll be out for eight hours straight." She waited for the touch of his hand, the coolness of the hypo against the skin of her neck, darkness and oblivion. Instead, Beverly felt a weight on the edge of her bed. The weight shifted this way and that, there was rustling. She opened her eyes and saw Jean-Luc sitting on the edge of the bed, bending over towards the floor. Propping herself up on an elbow, she looked closer to see what he was doing.

He was taking off his boots.

"What are you doing?"

"Following your advice."

"What advice?"

"'Get some sleep.'"

"Here? You want to sleep here?"

He turned toward her. Although he wasn't any closer than the second before, it seemed to Beverly that she hadn't really been aware of his presence until this moment. There were his eyes, intense, searching, a new assurance in them that she had never seen there before. There was his body, this body that she had so seldom touched and so often dreamed about. There was Jean-Luc Picard, and his presence was so overwhelming that for a moment Beverly wondered if it was fear she was feeling.

"Please, let me stay. Please, Beverly. Let me sleep with you."

"No way!"

To her astonishment, he smiled. And even against her will, Beverly's apprehension and anger vanished. She was too confused to be angry, and dammit, if he only would stop smiling her her like that!

"I have missed you. I have missed you terribly. And I know you will be gone and on the planet's surface the minute you're on your feet again, and there's a good chance I won't see you again in another year or two. There's even the, let's face it, very real possibility, that we will fight again before you leave and spend another year not even talking to each other."

Beverly was still propped up on her elbows, staring at him. He hadn't touched her once except for the one time he'd given her the painkiller.

He closed his eyes briefly.

"I don't want to waste any more time, Beverly. I am too old, and too tired. I don't have the energy. If you tell me you don't want me here, I'll leave and never mention this again, I promise. But don't tell me to leave just because it's what you always do, because that has always been the way with us."

"And what will it change if you stay?"

"Nothing. I will still love you. You will still run away in the morning. But I will have something to hold on to."

Of course, he was using a moment of extreme weakness. She should be furious about that, send him out of the room, who did he think she was, that she would let Jean-Luc Picard climb into her bed just like that? Did he think he was so irresistible?

Instead, she put a hand on his cheek. Big round tears where plopping on the sheets. A child's tears.

"Shhh, no, don't cry, Beverly, don't, I didn't mean to – "

Against his shoulder, his arms around her, supporting her, she sobbed, shook, wailed, screamed, babbled, lamented.

"I – I'm sorry – I messed up – so bad – you don't know, you can't – "

He let her cry. Then, his voice brought her back. He could still do that.

"And I don't want to know. Not now. All I want is to sleep here with you. Will you let me?"

The sobbing and shaking had stopped. She was looking at him, her face flushed and smeared with tears, her hair plastered to her temples, her eyes red. What beauty, what radiance, he thought.

"And if you messed up, I messed up just as bad as you. Let's leave it at that for now, all right?"

Beverly took him in, sitting there on the edge of her bed, his uniform soaked with her tears, his eyes warm and smiling, no uncertainty in them. One, two, three, four heartbeats. Then she laid down, closed her eyes, and pulled the cover over for him.

After a few seconds, she felt him slip into bed with her. He took her in his arms as if this was what he had been doing every night, a lifetime long. She felt something cool against her neck. He whispered:

"Are you ready to sleep now?"

"I am ready."