A/N: My concussion is on the mend, but one good thing from this-without training, I have more time to write! So I am actually almost all done, and should have the rest of this story out for you by the end of the weekend. One thing, though-as I was writing the very last scene today, one of my characters decided to do his own thing and caught me off-guard haha. So I'm going to make that scene it's own chapter, meaning NOW there are two chapters left (after this one). Not my fault-blame the characters! :-p
"You too, Carmen." Dr. Crusher held out a hand. But the junior officer merely stared at the doors where her parents had disappeared from view, heedless to all else. "Carmen?"
"No." Carmen flinched away from her hand, her lips curling back into a snarl. It was like she had snapped from some tether that kept her grounded, kept her tame. And in that moment Crusher saw a glimpse of the old Carmen, the first Carmen, the one who had fled through the halls of the Enterprise without any regard for those in her way.
"I won't give up on them," she promised the young woman. "Don't you dare give up on them, either. They-"
Carmen took off, shoving Crusher's staff aside in her mad dash from the transporter room. Down the winding corridors she fled, ignoring the shouts of her name, and didn't stop until she reached the door of her living quarters. Sinking against its cold, hard surface, she fumbled with the security code best she could through a torrent of tears. Then, dragging herself across the threshold, she listened as the door closed automatically behind her. A tomb-like silence pressed in from all around. Everything looked just as she had left it, piled into hurried attempts at straightening up. A stack of books borrowed from Captain Picard. A baseball glove still covered in dirt. A wooden moose sitting high upon a shelf.
Her stomach lurched, and she closed her eyes to focus on keeping its contents down. This was just like before. She had run home that day, too. The sight of her father in sickbay was too much of a shock for the nine year old girl. She had run to their quarters, trying to seek solace in the surroundings she knew so well. But even though everything was still the same-the pancake batter left on the counter, his uniform slung over the back of the couch, his trombone leaning against the wall-somehow, it had ceased to be home. Tomorrow would come with all these things, but not with him. And the realization was almost more than the child could bear.
Open up, Bright Eyes.
Carmen jumped, knocking over the little table next to her. It clattered to the ground, making an ugly sound as it cleft through the silence. "Na'devvo' yIghos!" she shouted. "Just...leave me alone!" Walls. I need my walls. She backed herself into a corner and drew her knees up to her chest.
That's the last thing you need. Lwaxana's presence seemed to reach through the closed door. While Carmen was busy trying to rebuild her walls, her grandmother was building a bridge. And marching straight across.
How do you know what I need? You love your gifts, but I hate them! I don't want to feel this-I don't want to feel at all! I shut it out once, I can do it again!
I know how much this hurts, love. That severing of something planted so deep in your heart that it had already taken root. And when it's gone, all you're left with is a hole. A deep and empty hole. Every day, you find yourself walking along the edge of that hole, hoping you don't fall in.
Carmen opened her eyes. She stared at the back of her door, amazed that anyone else could understand her pain so profoundly. Pushing off the wall, she stood up and approached her door with slow, tentative steps.
It slid back to reveal Lwaxana's face, somber but smiling. She wore one of her absurdly poofy gowns that you could hear coming from nine decks away. This one was a shade of burnt red that reminded the junior officer of an Alaskan sunset.
"Does it ever go away? That...hole?" Carmen asked aloud, her voice a ragged whisper.
"No. It doesn't."
"Then what do I do?" she despaired.
"Make me some tea." Lwaxana bunched the bottom of her dress in her hands and forced all the material through the doorway. Carmen balked at first, standing in the threshold alone. Then, shaking her head with a ghost of a smile, she walked over to the replicator and placed a couple of orders.
"Here," she said, handing a hot cup of tea to her grandmother. As she sat down beside her, the cup in her own hands trembled violently. She was still in bad need of medical attention, but right now, her heart had more important needs.
"You see, that hole never goes away," Lwaxana continued. "But it doesn't stay empty. There are people who will come into your life-people who build bridges in order to cross that span. And day by day, they leave little things behind to fill up that space. Little treasures."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know," she quipped. "I'm speaking in metaphors!"
Carmen laughed, surprising herself. It burst through her tears with a strange sobbing sound. Lwaxana grinned and gave the young woman's knee a pat. "No, I mean things like smiles. Laughter. Those moments you cherish the most, they're made up of little treasures. And the deeper the hole was to begin with, the more treasure it can contain. A heart that was once empty can be overflowing again someday. I promise."
Carmen drew in a breath. "Until then...it just hurts?"
"There is no way around the pain, unfortunately," Lwaxana said. "You can only go through it. But you are strong enough, to go through this. It won't break you."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Well what did you do in the past, every time you swore that you could not go on?"
Carmen pondered for a moment. "Usually I found the nearest tavern and drank til I-"
"You went on." Lwaxana cast her a firm but loving smile. "And you will keep going on. Don't fret, Bright Eyes. You're stronger than you know. You are, after all, heir to the Fifth House." She winked, and her smile shone like a little piece of treasure. "Now come on, Dr. Crusher is worried about you."
The doors opened. Immediately, the clamor of sickbay poured over Carmen. Screens beeped with numbers and graphs. Crusher's staff bustled about, hardly even sparing a glance in her direction. But in the middle, perfectly still, lay her father. He reclined on a bio-bed, one hand hanging carelessly over the edge. Carmen inhaled sharply. She knew this scene. She knew what happened next. For she had stood here hundreds of times before, in hundreds of flashbacks that haunted her sleep. She would race into the room, shouting for her father. But every time she reached for his outstretched hand, someone would snatch her away.
"Carmen!"
A different little girl was racing through the room. She collided with Carmen in an unabashed hug, and the junior officer had to take a step back to brace against the impact. "Jora?" she said, blinking in confusion. "What are you doing here?"
"Your doctor checked me out. I think her name was Beverly? She's very nice. Anyway, she's looking for you. Want me to go get her?"
"What? Uh, no. That's okay." While her exuberance grated against Carmen's weary nerves, she also found herself relieved to see the girl in such high spirits. Her time in Romulan custody had not dimmed that inner flame. And something about that made Carmen realize just how resilient the young Vakronian really was.
"I think Carmen needs a little time with her parents right now," Lwaxana said, lacing her arm around the girl's shoulders. "Why don't you come with me? There's someone I think you would like. His name is Allan Sheppard, and I've been getting to know him…"
Her grandmother's voice faded from earshot. Carmen was alone again. Her father's body still waited up ahead. On his far side, Troi had been lain across a bed of her own. The color of her face appeared mottled from the blackweed, and it made Carmen shudder with how reminiscent it looked of a Borg's skin. For a brief moment, the young woman felt a tug on her memory, but could not place it.
Taking a deep breath, she willed her feet forward. Choose courage...choose courage...
"Dad?" she called, a whisper this time instead of a shout. She reached for his hand and trembled, waiting for someone to pull her away. For the captain to shout, "Do not let her see!" But nothing happened. Her fingers touched his. The flashback was broken. Different. This had never happened before. "Dad?" she whispered again. "Say something. Talk to me. Please..."
Nothing.
She sank to her knees, too tired to care if everybody in sickbay saw her crumble. Tears streamed relentlessly from her eyes. This is why her quarters didn't feel like home anymore. Because home wasn't a place-it was a family. It had become that hole in her heart, the one she had built a wall around. And now she finally understood what Lwaxana was trying to tell her before the mission. Grief is just love with nowhere to go. You have to let people in. You have to let them build bridges. You have to accept the little treasures they leave behind in your life. If only I could have learned that sooner. If only I could have had more time with you and mom...
Then someone was squeezing her hand. It was the hand she was holding-his hand! Her heart skipped a beat. She whipped her head up to find his eyes open and watching her. A knowing smile danced across his lips.
"Dad!" She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face beneath his chin. It was then she noticed that a strange device had been strapped to his stomach. It pulsed now and then, and green numbers would appear on a nearby screen. "You-you're going to be alright?"
"I'm not going anywhere. I have a wedding to attend, remember?" He lifted up slightly and kissed the top of her head.
"Mom is going to be alright, too?"
"Your mom is going to be just fine. She's sedated until Beverly can finish processing a cure. Shouldn't take more than a few hours. Unfortunately, that means…"
Carmen pushed herself upright, holding his hand with both of hers. "What? What is it?"
"Well, that means you'll have to keep your grandmother entertained while we're down and out."
Laughing, she wiped her tears with a shoulder. Home. We're all back home. "Hey dad, speaking of grandma..."
"Yeah?"
"I was thinking...maybe we could invite her over to dinner again?"
Riker put a hand over his chest and groaned. "Can't you see I'm in enough pain?"