AN: Here is the second piece of what is likely to be three or four pieces.
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
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"She fell into the freezing water," Jean-Luc said the moment that they'd materialized in sickbay. Worf—either already warmed from his own fall or too concerned with Beverly to be aware of his own suffering—helped Jean-Luc move Beverly immediately to a biobed.
"Patient is likely in shock. Possibly suffering from hypothermia. I need warming blankets," Doctor Finley said to the two nurses that were still aboard the ship with him. "I need a fetal monitor, too. We need to get her out of the wet clothing."
The last part was directed at Jean-Luc, and Jean-Luc immediately went to work doing just that, without worry or regard for dignity in the moment. His own body was freezing, simply from trying to use it to warm Beverly in the few passing moments since she'd been pulled from the icy water, and she was still cold to the touch. There was still ice in her hair that hadn't defrosted yet. Jean-Luc told himself that the reason his hands were shaking so violently was the cold, but he knew it was truly his overwhelming fear.
"You stay with me, Beverly," Jean-Luc said when her eyelids sagged closed. "Stay with me…damn it. We'll have you warm in a minute." She opened her eyes to him again. He smiled at her. "That's right. That's right. You stay with me. Right here with me."
One of the nurses handed him a pair of scissors when she brought him a teal gown, and the scissors made simpler work of removing Beverly's wet and cold clothes. He felt her muscles seize, and she tried to speak to him, but her attempt to speak was somewhat intelligible and covered over with chattering teeth.
Jean-Luc was as grateful for the warming blanket the nurse brought as he'd been for nearly anything he could recall receiving. He wrapped Beverly in it, cradling her against him as he did. The special blankets were designed to slowly warm up, raising the body's temperature slowly and gently.
"You'll be warm in a minute," Jean-Luc assured Beverly, though she hadn't voiced a need for such reassurance. Perhaps it was for him as much as it was for her. He cradled her in his arms, realizing, in that moment, that he was holding truly the most precious thing in life—at least as far as he was concerned.
"The baby," Beverly said, finally able to get words out through chattering teeth.
Doctor Finley came over, and Jean-Luc relinquished his tight hold on Beverly only enough for the doctor to get monitors in place on her body.
"Doctor—the baby?" Jean-Luc asked, voicing Beverly's concern for her.
"The baby is well," Doctor Finley said. "Mother's vitals are not perfectly within range, but she should recover entirely in the next half hour or so. We'll continue to monitor her for improvement, and we'll make sure that nothing worsens."
"Push .25 milligrams of terbutaline now, Doctor," Beverly commanded.
"That's unnecessary," Doctor Finley protested. He moved to examine Beverly, and Jean-Luc released her. Doctor Finley began to move the warming blanket around, doing a quick hands-on examination of Beverly's body.
"Jean-Luc," Beverly said.
She didn't say more. Jean-Luc knew that, of the doctors that had ever interned on the Enterprise, Doctor Finley was one of Beverly's least favorite. She tried to keep an open mind about most of the medical personnel that came to serve under her for, usually, short periods of time, and she accepted that they each brought their habits and styles with them, but she didn't care for the man at all.
"Doctor—perhaps we should consider the…thing which Doctor Picard mentioned," Jean-Luc offered.
Doctor Finley smiled at Jean-Luc. Jean-Luc felt at least a little of Beverly's dislike for the man.
"She would benefit more from a gentle sedative, to be honest," Doctor Finley informed Jean-Luc. He moved away from the both of them, clearly to get whatever he intended to give Beverly, and Beverly reached her hand out to Jean-Luc.
"Jean-Luc, I'm having contractions," she said. Jean-Luc simply shook his head at her. He felt like he wasn't ready for this. He wasn't prepared. They weren't ready. They'd absolutely been through everything that he needed to know about this and, arguably, it was Beverly that would do most of the work, but it felt overwhelming and impossible. Besides that, this wasn't what he believed any of this to be like, so it couldn't possibly be the case. Of course, he didn't manage to say all of that, he simply shook his head at Beverly. She nodded back at him. "Jean-Luc, please. The baby needs my help. I can't do this with him."
Jean-Luc welcomed the feeling that jolted through him—the sudden sensation that he could do something to help. He stepped away from Beverly, putting enough distance between himself and her biobed that he wouldn't be noticed or overheard, and he tapped his combadge. He kept his voice low, but he put enough force behind his words to make it known that he was issuing an order.
"Picard to Riker."
"Riker here," Will said. "Deanna's here, too, if you need her in sickbay. How is Doctor Crusher?"
"Listen, Will—I need you to get in touch with Doctor Moran on the planet's surface. We need her back in sickbay immediately—emergency transport her from the surface."
"Is Doctor Crusher OK?" Deanna asked through the channel that was opened between Will and Jean-Luc.
"Doctor Crusher requires trusted medical assistance," Jean-Luc said. "Transport Doctor Moran here as quickly as possible. That's an order."
By the time Jean-Luc made it back to the biobed where he'd left Beverly, she appeared to be attempting an escape. One of the young nurses made a half-hearted effort to hold her back, clearly not wanting to hurt her in any way, and Doctor Finley pulled at her shoulder as Beverly made it clear that she intended to leave the biobed. She slapped away the hypospray that he was attempting to administer to her seemingly against her will, if such a thing were necessary.
"I won't take a sedative!" She barked at Doctor Finley. "I don't require a sedative!"
"Doctor—what's going on here?" Jean-Luc asked as he approached.
"Irrationality is a side-effect of hypothermia," Doctor Finley offered with a hint of exasperation and a little too much of the "don't you know what I'm talking about" tone for Jean-Luc to appreciate it when it was used to talk about his wife.
"I am not irrational," Beverly said, struggling away from hands that grasped at her. Jean-Luc had to admit that she looked pretty irrational, slapping at the doctor and the nurse if they dared to move a hand near her, but he wasn't going to say that. She pulled away and started what he could only imagine was some sort of escape. "I will not take a sedative! I don't need a sedative. I need…" She stopped and reached out for anything that was near her, barely catching the corner of the biobed that she'd almost walked away from entirely. The hand not steadying her went to her belly. The warming blanket she'd been wearing like a cape dropped away to leave her standing in her teal gown.
"Lack of coordination and dizziness can also be side-effects of hypothermia," Doctor Finley offered.
"I'm not suffering from hypothermia, Doctor," Beverly growled. "At least—not primarily. I'm suffering from labor. And I'm not ready. He's not ready. I need .25 milligrams of terbutaline to stop the advancement of labor, and the baby needs an antenatal corticosteroid to help with lung development." She made it a few steps more on her attempted journey to, more than likely, dose herself, before Jean-Luc caught up to her. He caught her as she reached for something else to hold onto. She looked relieved to find his arms, but then she looked horrified.
"Talk to me, Beverly," Jean-Luc said, the expression on her face nearly turning his stomach inside out.
"My water just broke," she said. Her face screwed up slightly. "Jean-Luc!" She sounded slightly angry at him, as though he'd done something wrong or was to blame for this, but the anger gave way to the sadness again. "My water just broke!"
Jean-Luc didn't know what else to do to help Beverly, so he simply caught her by the upper part of her arms and offered her some physical support for grounding her.
"I heard we have broken water over here…"
Doctor Moran's voice was a welcomed sound to Jean-Luc. He turned, moving Beverly with him, to practically hand her over into the hands of the doctor that she'd chosen as her own personal physician because she trusted her and liked her bedside manner.
Doctor Moran immediately started to examine Beverly, probing her belly for a moment.
"You're having a contraction now, aren't you? I feel it. That's a good one. Hold on…breathe…almost over."
Beverly hummed. Jean-Luc searched her for evidence of such a thing. He'd been around very few females of very few species while they were in the process of going through labor and giving birth. He had, however, decided that the process would be loud and somewhat violent. Beverly was, at best, breathing more heavily than usual as she held onto the doctor and allowed her probing.
"Do you think we can stop the labor?" Beverly asked after a moment. Jean-Luc didn't know if it was a rational question or not, but the quick hint of a smile on Doctor Moran's lips, which she quickly swallowed down, led him to believe that it might not be.
"I don't think it's necessary," Doctor Moran said, her voice as soothing as she could make it. "But we'll see, OK?"
Beverly's next intake of breath was sharper than before, and Jean-Luc jumped. Still, it wasn't what he expected, but he realized that he wasn't even ready for this—not really.
"Easy," Doctor Moran offered gently. "Slow, deep breaths. You're doing fine. Let's get you to the chair, OK? Then, we can talk about what's possible."
Beverly nodded and hummed. Jean-Luc realized that Doctor Moran was practically handing him Beverly's hands. He also realized that Doctor Finley was gone—off to attend to something else, more than likely, and probably at least a little grumpy that his colleague had been called in to handle the emergency that had fallen into his hands. One of the nurses was gone, too—the nervous one—and another young nurse—a Caitian—stood close by. Jean-Luc didn't know her name—a trainee from Starfleet Medical—but he was glad that she appeared to be calm and collected. She gave him a soft smile, baring her canines in a way that wouldn't be comforting from most species, when she caught him looking at her.
"Papa," Doctor Moran offered, nudging Jean-Luc with her hand, "we're going to help Mama over to the birthing chair, OK? Just so we can have a better look at what's going on."
Jean-Luc would have never admitted it out loud, but he wondered if Beverly was the steadiest of the two of them right now. He held her arms and walked her slowly toward the area of sickbay where there was a birthing chair—a contraption, the presence of which, he'd always found uncomfortable before, and now found nearly terrifying. She stopped him, pulling on him, as a contraction clearly seized her body, and he stopped with her.
"You're doing wonderfully," Jean-Luc offered. He heard the tremor in his own voice. He wondered if she heard it. She made eye contact with him and he held her eyes. "You are amazing, Beverly. Everything about you. Everything you've ever done. Just—breathe."
Beverly let go of the breath she'd been holding, and Jean-Luc did his best to breathe with her, focusing on the kinds of breaths that Doctor Moran had demonstrated earlier. The doctor, for her part, didn't rush them. She went ahead of them, getting things ready. It was clear to Jean-Luc that, though she was presenting this to Beverly as nothing more than a check-up to decide what they might do, she was already preparing for a birth.
When the contraction had passed, Jean-Luc helped Beverly the rest of the way. Another contraction came on her just as they reached the chair, and she reached out for Jean-Luc, pulling him closer to her as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his shoulder. He felt her body quake, then, and he realized that he'd been wrong to read her responses as proof that there was really little to no pain involved in this process.
"Shhh," he offered, holding her and rubbing her back. "I've got you. It's fine. All of this is…perfectly wonderful, Beverly." He looked at Doctor Moran. She reached between them, as delicately as possible and clearly without drawing too much of Beverly's attention, to attach a monitor to her belly and, possibly, to readjust the one that was on her chest—both of which she'd tried to rip off, before, when Jean-Luc had left her in Doctor Finley's less than trusted care.
Doctor Moran gave Jean-Luc a reassuring smile and nodded. He felt empowered by it. Beverly was holding on to him, seeming calm for the first time, and the doctor was nodding at him that he was doing something right.
Jean-Luc closed his eyes and, for one moment, he enjoyed the feeling of holding Beverly in his arms, fully aware of the miracle in which they were both currently taking part. Doctor Moran didn't bother them. She watched the monitors, instead. Beverly didn't move. She stayed, hugging Jean-Luc, with her head against his shoulder. When the next contraction came, he felt her tense, and he heard a sound akin to a whimper escape her, but she didn't move from her position.
Jean-Luc hummed softly and held her tightly, the way she seemed to like.
"You are so strong, Beverly," he offered quietly. "You're doing so well. Whatever you need…we'll make it happen." When he felt her relax, this time, he steered her toward the chair, but he didn't pull his body away from hers until he'd turned her to be ready to sit. When she was ready, Jean-Luc helped Beverly into the chair, and Doctor Moran moved her feet into the stirrups.
"You can see, here, her contractions are being monitored," Doctor Moran said, pointing out the line that Jean-Luc watched on the screen. "Here are her vitals—well-within range for her current experience—and the baby's vitals. Also, within range."
Beverly strained her neck, trying to look around her to see the screens.
"Is there any reason that the screens are positioned so that she can't see them?" Jean-Luc asked as Doctor Moran took her position to examine Beverly.
"It's because Doctor Moran needs to be more aware of everything than I do," Beverly said, laughing quietly as she ran her hands around her belly.
Doctor Moran laughed, quietly continuing her examination.
"Little bit of pressure, Doctor Crusher, she offered—she was one who had never fully adjusted to calling Beverly by the name of Picard, and she went back and forth with her choices. "Doctor Crusher's job is not to monitor vitals—or at least it won't be soon. She's going to have important things to focus on and, before long, I think we'll find that her focus narrows a great deal—that tends to happen in the later stages."
Jean-Luc's stomach ached with those words, but he was thankful that Beverly at least looked amused.
"Terbutaline," Beverly said.
"Water's broken," Doctor Moran said. "Judging by your effacement and dilation, you've been making some progress."
"You don't think her fall into the water brought on the labor?" Jean-Luc asked.
When Beverly made a sound like a quick gasp and started humming to herself—her hand reaching out in Jean-Luc's direction, he slipped his hand into hers and turned his attention to the screen that showed the progress of the contraction.
"I'm here, Beverly," he offered, even though she hadn't asked him to say anything. Her humming stopped when he spoke, so he kept speaking, looking for anything to say that might soothe her in some way. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay right here, for as long as you need me."
"The fall may have exacerbated things," Doctor Moran offered, "but Baby Picard was coming one way or another. He appears to be very impatient to make his debut. Doctor Crusher—we're beyond the point for an epidural to be of any real use to you, but I can offer you something to help with the pain."
"Mmm mmm," Beverly refused, shaking her head. "I said no before…in my plan."
"Very well," Doctor Moran said. "I'm just checking. Some women do change their minds when the contractions come."
"No," Beverly breathed out again. "Antenatal corticosteroid?"
"I can tell the labor is advancing," Doctor Moran offered with a smile, talking to Jean-Luc for the time being, "just because mothers react a certain way as it does so." She looked at Beverly and drew her attention. "You know it's too late for that. And that's OK. OK? It's fine. We'll treat his lungs, immediately, if he needs that. I'm going to gather a few supplies. You just relax. I mean that. Relax as much as you can. That's the best thing you can do right now for both of you."
Doctor Moran gave Beverly a reassuring smile, and then she started to walk off to, presumably, gather supplies. Jean-Luc reached a hand out and caught her arm.
"What should I do, Doctor?" He asked, barely putting voice behind his practically hissed words. Something in his gut made him feel like Beverly would see his asking for advice as some kind of betrayal—a thought he recognized as not rational in the least—but he felt like he needed advice desperately. Doctor Moran gave him a warm smile and patted his arm.
"Your job is very, very important," she offered. "You keep mama feeling safe and comfortable, OK? Relax, Captain. You're becoming a papa. You're doing just fine. This is all part of the process."
