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: Thanks to my reviewers, once again especially "It's me…". PLEASE throw a review on the end of your reading…if you like it, why? If not, TELL ME SO I CAN FIX IT! Thanks for reading 

From the Inside, Out

Chapter Four
...Finally, the ship is in view. We've got it on our long-range sensors; Worf brings it up on the main view screen. The Enterprise. I don't even know how to feel about seeing my home again. On the one hand, I feel relieved. I can't stand being with Worf anymore. I'm starting to resent his high and mighty Klingon attitude. We've been traveling for two days, and he's barely said three words to me. Wasn't...Isn't it obvious how much I cared...care about Jean-Luc? How can he be so selfish? I've asked him twice, now, if he wants to talk about this loss. About this...tragedy. He said, so bluntly, "Not with you". Wow. So harsh, so cruel. Do I really deserve that? Yes, yes, of course I do. I'm sure the way Worf sees it, I don't deserve to grieve, because it's my fault Jean-Luc's not with us. For the first time since I've known Mr. Worf, I think of his attitude as childish. The reality is that if we hadn't fled, all three of us would have died. Starfleet would never have known that we were the victims of a trap. No, we had to get out. I was right dammit Worf, stop condemning me! You didn't have to make the decision, so now you can sit there and criticize mine. Shut up, shut up. You would've done the same thing, but you didn't have to...

I really need to get off this shuttle. I need to get away from Worf's disapproving presence. But I deserve to be hated. No, I don't. Yes I do. If it had been anyone but Jean-Luc, I think I could let it go...eventually. With time, I could have convinced myself that it was a necessary command decision. But not here. I abandoned my best friend. I killed the man I love. Loved. Love.

At least we finally escaped the sneering, menacing presence of that damn Ferengi. I could tell when I returned to the shuttle without Jean-Luc's protective presence, that Solak could sense my vulnerability. I thought I had seen him expectantly sizing me up. Desire forever present in his eyes. When he slept, shortly after we had beamed up to the shuttle, I gave Solak a sedative: a very strong, very long-lasting sedative. I couldn't deal with him, and I knew that between Worf and me, we could handle the shuttle without him. He woke up the hour before we left. I stayed by Worf the whole time.

"I guess it's time to hail them," I say to Worf. He grunts and opens a channel. What kind of immature officer am I working with?

"Shuttlecraft Galileo to Enterprise" I can already picture how this will go...what they are thinking right now. They're starting to think: "Why is she hailing us? Where is Captain Picard? Is he dead? Is he sick? Is he captured? Is he sleeping?" Eventually, Captain Jellico responds, sounding as if he's still trying to act covertly, secretly, even though the undercover mission is over. What a fool. What a foolish man. They saw us coming; they planned for us to come. You idiot. The idiocy of Starfleet. The Captain looks sly, he looks stupid. Like he's whispering to tell me a secret that everyone already knows. I want him to shut up too.

Worf and I are greeted in the shuttle bay by Will, and Deanna. Thank goodness. I couldn't stand to see that man...the idiot...the idiot sitting in Jean-Luc's chair. He thinks he's great, he's sly, he's quick. I'm glad he's not here. I fall quickly into Deanna's tearful embrace. I whisper to her, "I couldn't save him Dee". She holds me closer; I draw a little bit of comfort from her. Worf grunts. Did he say something? Maybe it's just my imagination, but I thought he said, "You didn't even try." No, no, he wouldn't say that. But did he? I try to wipe the thought from my brain and allow Deanna to escort me to sickbay. I turn back once more before leaving the shuttle bay. Will looks crushed. He looks like he's trying to regain a captainly composure. He looks like he's trying to be Jean-Luc. The thought shoots grief through me anew and I lean heavily on Deanna. She tries to turn me forward, and we leave the room.