A/N: Hi all - the end is approaching! I'm thinking at least one more chapter. This chapter will slightly deviate from canon, specifically affecting events seen in 'Journey's End'.

Twenty One

*Wesley*

It was a week before I was able to speak again.

The fact that I'd spent however many days with my jaw completely still meant the surrounding muscles had to be coaxed into working again.

At least, I think that's how Mom explained it. I didn't care, as long as I could talk again.

It had been a frustrating week, filled with tiring physiotherapy and speech therapy sessions, and yet all I seemed to do was flex my mouth stupidly like a goldfish. And every time I started to roll my eyes or became even the slightest bit frustrated, she kept insisting with that sickly-sweet voice that I was making progress.

It sure didn't feel like progress. Yes, every session made me feel slightly stronger, but I also left every session feeling completely humiliated. The fact that the Captain accidentally walked in on one session while I was halfway through trying to speak a full sentence made me want to vaporise myself in the transporter. He didn't betray his feelings as he gave me a curt nod and carried on, mumbling something about looking for my mother, yet I still saw the sympathy in his eyes, and that made feel even more guilty.

Despite the talking I had to do as part of my recovery, I didn't say much for the first week. Counsellor Troi had invited me to her office on multiple occasions, but I had continually declined. Once I can speak, I had written, I'll come over.

The Captain's words had rung in my ears every time I'd said no. Part of me wanted to dismiss him as an old man who who had been trying to help and didn't understand my circumstances. The other half - no, the sensible half - of me knew he'd been speaking from the heart. He knew what it was like to be locked in your own body, completely unable to communicate with the world while remaining conscious and aware of the environment.

Mom had briefly mentioned I had school work to catch up on. A brief look from me ensured that discussion was continued another day.

As much as she had annoyed me with her fussing and constant offerings of help, I was still grateful that she was alive to help with my recovery. The Captain had managed to convince Ogawa that I wouldn't be adding stress to Mom's recovery if I hovered by her bedside. Although I hadn't been able to say anything, I simply perched next to her head and gripped her hand as if it were the only thing that was keeping me grounded; during the first few days, it had been.

Once Mom had returned to our quarters, it seemed things would slowly be returning to normal. She recovered from her injuries quicker than I expected, though I had assumed this was not the first time she'd been seriously wounded while on duty. Things seemed to fall into a routine; each day we would attend our individual physiotherapy sessions, followed by lunch with Counsellor Troi in Ten Forward. The afternoons usually consisted of Mom attending another physiotherapy class in the holodecks or doing light work at her desk while I was trapped with the speech therapist.

Sometimes Jaigin popped by my quarters to ask after my health. The Captain had granted him permission to stay aboard while we remained in orbit and finalised our dealings with the Tarovians and local Starfleet officials, though he eventually decided to return to the surface and become involved with establishing relations between our species. He'd never seemed to be fully absolved of his guilt in being involved with my kidnapping until I provided a final statement on the transporter pad, thoroughly expressing that I did not hold him responsible in any regard.

Apparently Starfleet wanted me to involve me in conversations about Dylin's punishment, and therefore continually asked that I present to their office on the surface to present my testimony. I counted it as a blessing that the Captain had kept me out of those discussions; I wasn't sure if I could bear recounting the events throughout my abduction again. The first time debriefing the situation with the senior bridge officers and Mom had been almost as excruciating as being cut with Dylin's knives.

It didn't take long for Mom to convince me that I needed to take some time away from my studies. The Captain had promised both of us some respite when it was next available, and that although it would likely be several weeks before that promise was fulfilled, we were to use the time onboard in the meantime to recover.

I had been drafting a letter to Starfleet Academy in my quarters when he'd appeared. It had taken me a few seconds to notice his arrival, though I quickly found my blood pressure rising as the anger began to pulse through my body.

His frame stopped shimmering as I stood to face him, watching as he fully materialised to reveal the pale, angular features of the Traveller gazed down upon me. Though I had grown significantly since we'd first met, he still remained a few inches taller than myself. His eyes gave nothing away of his intentions, and he simply stood in my quarters for a few minutes.

The silence irritated me further, and I focused my energy into making my jaw move. "So you've come back."

The Traveller said nothing. His eyes continued to twinkle with an unknown emotion behind them, and it did nothing to quench my fury. For someone who'd hardly spoken for some time, the words seemed to pour out of me uncontrollably.

"Why did you make me suffer like this, hmm?! Was it a test? I went out to meet you like you'd asked, and instead I get bundled off and trussed up like a bloody chicken!" I wiped away the spit that flew from my mouth. "What was the purpose of all this?! To gain strength? Build character? Test my moral compass?! I couldn't give a flying vIychorgh how this is supposed to 'play out' in your grand plan for me! You had no right to do it! Every night I lay in that godforsaken cave, wondering if I would be dead the next morning! I kept wondering how you, of all people, had allowed this to happen! We could've had our conversation indoors, where I would've been safe! Hell, you could've warned me they were coming, for God's sake! I remember what you did to save the Enterprise all those years ago, so why didn't you save me?!"

The Traveller attempted to place his unnaturally-white hand on my shoulder, but I jolted back as if I'd been electrocuted. "Don't touch me!" I tried to let out a scream, but it came out as a strangled croak as my tongue couldn't cooperate. I wonder if security could physically force him off the ship?

It seemed he had been scanning my mind, as the Traveller took a few steps back and lowered his hands. I massaged my jaw angrily. It still hurt to talk in large amounts, but I was determined to let him have a piece of my mind. The same man who had once said I was gifted and special had allowed me to be used as Dylin's personal punching bag.

And yet throughout my rambling, the Traveller had remained stubbornly silent. He stared at me thoughtfully, as if he were psychoanalysing my every move. I should ask Counsellor Troi sometime how non-telepathic beings do that…

"You asked me to meet you. You never said why," I snapped. "I think I'm owed an explanation."

"And you will have it, Wesley," the Traveller finally answered. "Your words towards me are so harsh."

I gave a sarcastic laugh. "And you're wondering why that is? Maybe that now I'm finally ABLE to speak again, I'll use whatever words I feel like."

"They are well deserved words, Wesley."

My stomach dropped. That was a reaction I hadn't been expecting. "What?"

"I had no say in this, Wesley," The taller man's voice dropped a few tones. If I looked hard enough, I wanted to believe I could see guilt in his eyes. "Truly, I didn't want you to experience this. I wouldn't wish such an ordeal on anyone-"

"Then WHY did-"

"Please let me finish," The Traveller sighed. "…I am the first of my race to have made contact with your species, as well as your reality. At first, the others of my race thought it would be a useful experience to understand 'your' reality. It soon became clear, however, that they wanted more. They demanded that I supply information at a rate and level that I could not achieve. They continually contacted me during our first meeting on the Enterprise, asking for updates that I hadn't been able to provide as I had been too involved working with Kosinski…In your time, it would have been four years after my departure from your ship that I was summoned to my home planet. It was revealed to me that my intentions to mentor you had been discovered. To put it simply, they didn't approve."

I raised an eyebrow. "You hadn't told them?"

"I had hoped I wouldn't need to! That they would see the brightness and gifted abilities you possess!" The Traveller rubbed his face, clearly agitated. "Time has no meaning in my reality, but from your point of view, we would have argued about it for almost two years. I told them everything I had discovered about you and your reality, and what benefits incorporating you into our society could mean for both species! But, they decided it was too soon for us to begin the unification of realities. They decided to inflict punishment on me."

The Traveller fell silent for a moment. His voice trembled as he rubbed his eyes. "They originally wanted me to abduct you. To bring you to our home planet and force me to watch them torture you," He turned to me, his eyes shimmering. "That would've been a fate worse than death, Wesley. I couldn't bear it."

It felt as though time had been suspended around me. How could anyone believe this was okay?! I couldn't control the bitter laugh that escaped my throat. This was absurd! To think that someone who had had faith in me when others didn't, and wanted to pass on his knowledge and experience had allowed himself to be a part of this.

If it had been delivered by anyone else, I would've said it was a joke. But I'd known the Traveller for many years, and the sinking feeling in my stomach revealed it was the truth he spoke. "You can't be serious. THAT'S the reason I experienced this?! That's the reason I got beaten within an inch of my life? Just so your friends could punish you?!"

"I assure you, Wesley, I wanted no part of this!" The anger in the Traveller's voice surprised me. "I told them it was barbaric! I said it was against everything we wanted to achieve in making contact with a new species! But they refused my pleas."

A brief silence hung over the tense air between us. Part of me wanted to believe him, for his words were genuine. But I also felt that the compassionate part of me had been beaten to death by Dylin. "Why didn't you come save me then?"

"They had restricted my powers by then; I could not travel anywhere under my own power. And the compromise we ultimately reached was not the one I wanted, but it was the only way I could ensure they would keep you alive," The Traveller whispered. "They forced me to observe you across your timeline, and inspect every single event for an opportunity to inflict their punishment. They decided this would be the ideal time to extract it."

Hang on a moment… My voice was almost non-existent. "…You mean this was always going to happen to me?"

The Traveller nodded. "Remember, Wesley, my species can manipulate space and time. I have seen your birth, as well as your death. I have seen every tear, every laugh, every outburst; everything that you will ever say and do. And yet despite my becoming involved in your timeline, I would never become a permanent part. And that was the worst punishment of all."

I felt nauseous. "…Did you have any part in helping Dylin?"

It was an agonising moment before the Traveller answered. "Originally, you were to be held prisoner by another group on this planet. They would have 'roughed you up' a little and keep you captive for a few hours, but nothing more would eventuate. My species forced me to interfere and influence Dylin. One of the 'benefits' of my species is the ability to affect an individual's thinking without being physically present with them, so he will have no memory of my influence."

I felt the tears swelling in my eyes, and begged them not to spill out. My voice sounded as broken as my heart. "…Your species are no better than the Q."

The doors to my quarters slid open, but I didn't care to turn and observe who it was. I kept my piercing glare focused on the Traveller. "So what happens now then? Do you still expect me to go with you after all of this?"

"I'm not expecting anything from you, Wesley," The Traveller spoke sorrowfully. "My punishment has been fulfilled, but I also have been exiled from my home world. Therefore, I am free to do as I please."

The Traveller once again extended his hand. "My offer still stands."

I found myself staring at the man in front of me. This man, who went through such a punishment purely for offering to teach me, continued to express a want for a friendship.

I stared at those conjoined fingers and wondered if it would be anything like I had imagined. After he'd first left all those years ago, I had sometimes wondered what sorts of phenomena he would show me. What physics he used to alter reality. How he experienced the passage of time in a timeless existence.

I decided it wasn't worth it. How could I go with the man who had, indirectly, caused me so much pain?

Ignoring the searing pain in my jaw, I grit my teeth and poured every piece of venom I had left into my final words to him: "Leave. I'm sure you'll find another 'bright' young person to teach."

If he was disappointed, his face did not show it. It was several moments before the Traveller nodded and retracted his hand. He gave me a slight nod before turning away, returning to the stars in a matter of milliseconds.

I continued to stare numbly at the space he had occupied moments prior.

He's gone.

My mentor is gone.

With no warning my legs buckled and I suddenly found myself on the floor, continuing to blankly ahead. Mom and the Captain appeared in my field of vision, and although their mouths moved, their words were lost in the space between us. My brain felt fuzzy, and I realised as they pulled me upright that I was crying again. Will this ever stop?!

I wasn't sure if I'd grabbed Mom's sweater or the Captain's shirt, but I didn't care. I clung to it tightly and allowed myself to fall into another fit of anguished sobs. It seemed whomever I'd grabbed didn't care either, for the three of us eventually found ourselves in a tightly-knit hug.

Someone was stroking my hair, and it made me cry even harder. My jaw throbbed in agony and my chest hurt, yet the grief continued to flow from my tortured vocal cords.

I had never asked the Traveller if he and his species were telepathic, but I broadcasted my thoughts loud and clear in case they did. I hope you are satisfied.


A/N: One more chapter to go - not sure if it'll be an epilogue or a regular chapter just yet.

vIychorgh = Klingon translation of 'piece of shit'