Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!
Author's Note: Hey All! Thanks to those who've reviewed thus far. I hope to ease away any confusion that may have been left over from the last chapter with the next few chapters...please let me know what you think.
From the Inside, Out
Chapter Three
We reach the beam up point, and are pulled back to the ship by the Ferengi. Only the two of us—-no Jean-Luc. He's gone, he's gone. He's lost. Casualty. I feel broken, I feel empty. I'm so angry with myself. Jean-Luc would have risked his life for me...why couldn't I do the same for him? I made a command decision. Was it the wrong one? Starfleet would say no. As Dr. Crusher I would say no, I had to get out. As Beverly however, I would say yes. I hate myself for doing this to him. To the man I love. I sure have a funny way of showing it. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. I can't do this. I can't go home. I can't live while Jean-Luc is still down there. What was I saying to myself earlier today? He will save me? Well, he has and I couldn't do the same for him. He's gone. Why didn't I look before I dove through that door? Why didn't I oblige Worf and attempt a rescue? Why couldn't I die for him?
Worf has left the main area and retired to the sleeping quarters. I assume that tonight, he will not be so gracious: he'll take the bed, and give me the cold metal floor. He would never give me the comfort of a bed after the completely dishonourable thing I've done. I feel a sadness through my entire body as I curl up in one of the pilot's chairs. I'm staring out into space, but seeing nothing at all. Ophelia, in her insanity, starts singing in my head: "He is dead and gone, Lady. He is dead and gone."
I'm not looking forward to getting home now. It won't be home without him there. I hate myself, I hate this. I have to go back and tell Jean-Luc's closest friends that he's dead...and that I didn't try to save him. I'll have to call Robert, his brother. I'll have to tell Wesley...that's two father figures dead now. Jean-Luc, Jean-Luc. It's all my fault. I'll never be able to lose this pain. Is this how you felt when Jack died? No, no. I bet you did everything to try to save your best friend. Me? I just ran. I ran to save my own skin.
Ok, ok: Sleep. I need to sleep. I need to try to sleep...just try, at least. I never thought I'd be back here again: taking up the position of the mourning woman. In tonight's production, the part of the widow will be played by...Oh shut up. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You deserve this pain. You've killed him.
Stop, I need to stop this. I don't even know if he's dead. In fact, I bet he's not. He'll be much more useful to the Cardassians alive. Oh gods, what will they do to him? Why didn't I look back? I should have looked back. I wonder if Worf will ever talk to me again.
This mission, this damn mission. Think, Bev, think. It was set up to be a trap. What did the Cardassians want to gain? The death of three random officers? No. Such an elaborate plan...it must have had a greater purpose than that... Proof of the presence of Starfleet spies in Cardassian space? No, not something that simple either. Is it possible they could have wanted Jean-Luc specifically? ...Maybe. Or is that just my personal feelings for him inflating his importance? Would the Cardassians really set up such a plot just to capture him? I have no clue. I'll have to wait till we're home to really look into it. In the meantime, I feel a small measure of security: if they need Jean-Luc Picard, they won't kill him. He'll live. I can still save him. I can still love him. Slowly, clinging to this tiny hope, I drift into a fitful sleep.