I think a few of you may have been waiting for this one...


She heard the tell-tale whine of a transporter mere milliseconds before she saw the unmistakable shape of Jean-Luc start to coalesce.

The second he finished forming, she took an instinctive step forward before stopping herself. She didn't want to startle him.

Then, the luminous glow of the transport settled and there he was; alive, and standing right in front of her.

The world around them arrested in time and their eyes found each other's instantly. Each of them frozen for a moment, too awestruck to do or say anything. She didn't think there were words in any language that would possibly come to close to expressing how she felt.

"It's you," she said, smiling.

"It's me," he replied, returning the smile.

He stepped forward first, reaching her in a second. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, desperately. Tears streamed down her face and she was overwhelmed by the sensation of him, right there in her arms. His skin, his smell, the very feel of him – all that she had missed painfully and physically over the last two years. She felt like she'd been sucked out into the galaxy where there was only him, and her. She'd lost all sense of where, and when she was. Jean-Luc was home.

After a period of time that she couldn't even begin to calculate, she took a step back, keeping tight hold of his hand as though he might be taken away again in an instant. She called for the boys and they went to him instantly, hesitating at his poor condition for just a second. He wrapped an arm around each of them.

"Oh, tous m'avez tellement manqué tous les deux." He said kissing first Ted, then Louis. She could see Jean-Luc holding it together for a second then burst into tears, overcome, overwhelmed… home.

"Papa," said Ted as though he couldn't actually believe it. "I missed you too."

Louis seemed too dumbfounded for the moment to say even a word. He was crying, not even attempting to hide the fact, content to hug his father. "Papa..." he managed eventually.

Jean-Luc wavered for a second, Beverly went to him, guided him to the sofa. She looked him over discreetly but not before he noticed. He sat down, tears still falling freely, he wiped at his eyes. The boys took a seat on each of the armchairs positioned at either end of the sofa.

"I'm fine," he whispered.

"I know, of course you are," she smiled, an old joke.

He was far too thin, almost unrecognisable. He skin was pale, thin, stretched tightly across every one of his bones. Skeletal. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a deep pain she could tell would be with him for a long time. He looked undeniably different; older, frail, pained, like he could snap at any moment. His voice was weak, husky, lacking in any of the power it once had. But it was him, and he was home.

"Louis, Ted, get some food, some drinks. Will, Worf, I'm sorry… please sit down." She said, suddenly remembering the other people in the room. She still couldn't take her eyes off him.

"Beverly, we'll get going. Leave you guys to settle in… call me. If you need anything. Deanna will be by later on," said Will, getting ready to transport himself back to Command.

"Worf, Will, thank you, thank you. How can I ever thank you enough?"

"You do not need to thank us. I am glad our mission was successful. I will be here, on Earth. For the foreseeable. If you need anything at all," replied Worf, embarrassed by the expression of emotion going on around him. "Admiral Picard, I am very glad you are home. Please, if there is anything I can do for you…"

Jean-Luc couldn't reply, he was too dazed. He nodded tightly, tears threatening to overwhelm him afresh.

Will kissed Beverly's cheek then stepped back. "Be well," he said to Jean-Luc.

Jean-Luc managed to return a pained smile, nodding at his friend. Then both men disappeared from the room leaving the Howard-Picard family together, and alone.

"Papa, here," said Louis coming in from the kitchen. He had a tray of his father's favourites, a pot of tea, a plate of sandwiches, a pot of créme de marron.

"My god…" he took the mug instantly, bringing it up to his face with a shaky hand. "Earl Grey." He took the tiniest of sips, smiled, then placed the mug back down on the table. "Look at you both… you've grown so much…" he whispered.

She sat down beside him, then noticed that he hadn't taken any food. She wasn't going to push him, but it worried her. She watched him as he asked both boys halting, awkward questions as though to begin catching up on everything he had missed, and she was captivated. She felt disconnected from the moment – this was everything she had dreamed of for years. It was as though she were watching a movie, listening to the sound of his voice, watching him as he spoke. Just having him there, right in front of her.

He looked toward her then, pulled her hand into his again. She turned to him, smiled, then burst into fresh tears. "It's so good to have you home." She said, hugging him. She felt him flinch for a second, then felt his body relax as he hugged her back.

"It's good to be home. I have dreamed of this…" he said, crying anew.

They froze, hugging one another, and all time seemed to melt away. This was going to take some getting used to.

Eventually, Jean-Luc released her and took another sip of his drink. She noticed as his face paled and he took on a guarded expression. His eyes dulled, and his body stiffened.

"Everything okay?"

He nodded, swallowing, "I'm feeling a little…"

"You're tired. Come on, I'll help you." She rose, held out her hand to him which he gratefully took. It took him a second to rise from the sofa, she heard him groan softly as his body moved. She would need to be careful with him, he was hiding his poor condition well.

"Papa?" asked Louis, worriedly.

"I'm fine…" he replied in a whisper, no energy left in his voice.

"I think Papa just needs a rest sweetheart, don't worry," she said brightly, hoping to convince Louis that disaster wasn't about to strike again.

Louis swallowed, overcome with rising emotion. Tears welled in his eyes.

She nodded to her youngest, trying to affirm without saying it what she knew: this was a lot to contend with, for all of them. She left the boys in the living room, Ted passing the créme de marron to his brother. Fraternal solidarity in the sweet treat their father was so fond of.

They moved through the house with Jean-Luc leading the way. She followed behind him, patiently allowing him to reacquaint himself. He paused every now and again to look at a picture on the wall, pick up a photograph, or to rest. It was almost painful watching him. He was stiff, and he was moving with difficulty.

"Are you in pain?"

"A little…" an admission. It must be bad.

"You can tell me… You don't need to be brave."

"I know… thank you. I uh… for so long it was… it was…" and then he couldn't go on.

She nodded, to affirm to him that she understood. She knew the basics, knew he'd been beaten, branded… but she knew these things as objective facts from the first medical reports. It was so strange to have him here, the flesh. "I can get you a hypo. Shall I…?" she asked, unsure whether or not she could leave him.

"Please don't go. I'll be fine… I just need to lie down… for a little while."

"You've had a long day." She said as they entered their bedroom.

He stopped in the doorway, "It's just as I remember…"

"I didn't…" she started, then changed her mind. "Your things are in storage. I didn't dare hope that you would actually get home. I'll send for them."

He sat down on the bed carefully, and he looked lost. He glanced around the room, eyes wide.

She went to him, kneeled to take his foot and started to remove his boots. He pulled his foot away sharply, surprised at the sensation, his attention had been elsewhere.

"Don't…"

"It's okay… let me help you."

"I'm sorry… this is just… going to take some getting used to."

"We'll do it together. Don't worry, you'll see. Soon enough and you'll be leaving your boots and socks all over the place again." She said, trying to lighten the moment. "Let me help?"

He nodded his head and she returned to the business of removing his boots, but not before she noticed fresh tears start to fall. "It's okay Jean-Luc, it's all going to be okay."

He couldn't stop himself weeping. "I know… I know."

She helped him lay back against the pillows on their bed. He looked comfortable, at least, he would have done if it weren't for the tears, and the pained expression. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Please, stay with me," he asked quietly, like a lost child. He wiped at his eyes, unable to stop the tears.

She climbed up next to him and he pulled her closer, wrapping himself around her. She breathed him in and revelled in the warmth of his body behind her. She thought about the way he felt different; his body was sharp, his bones sticking into her, and he was clinging to her as though his life depended on it. She could hear him breathing in and out, in and out, felt him calming. Everything else seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of them, in this moment. She'd not felt such a sense of peace so fully since he'd first been declared missing in action. She was aware when his breathing started to deepen, could feel his body relax more heavily against her, his arms around her loosening off just a little. She closed her eyes, content, happy. He was home