Jean-Luc sat quietly in Beverly's arms. He was still weeping silently, but the shuddering anguish that had wracked him for so long had eased, at least momentarily. Her healer's heart bled for him and for the twentieth time she wished there was something, anything she could do to ease the suffering that was consuming him. This man's pain somehow felt like her own.

She shifted her weight slightly, wondering how many more minutes – hours – of trying to keep control of Sarek's raging emotions he would have to endure. At least her embrace seemed to bring him solace, so she continued to hold him tight as he fought to keep the ancient Vulcan's lifetime of suppressed torment at bay.

"I should have saved him." His low voice, a bare whisper, drew her out of her reverie. "I tried, but I couldn't."

Beverly stilled, breath catching in her chest as the wounded misery in his tone lanced through her. She somehow knew at once whom he was referring to. Jack. This was no longer Sarek's guilt and regret surfacing, it was Jean-Luc's.

"I'm so sorry." His voice broke on a sob.

Beverly shut her eyes against the sudden blur of tears. "Don't," she whispered fiercely. "Don't blame yourself, Jean-Luc. I never have."

He drew back a fraction to look her in the eyes. "Haven't you?" he murmured softly.

"Never." She took his hand and gently cradled it, like she would a child's. "It was an accident, Jean-Luc. A terrible accident. That's all. I never blamed you, and neither does Wesley. And we don't want you to blame yourself."

He shook his head against her absolution, his eyes still dark and filled with remorse.

Her grip on his hand tightened. "Don't you remember? I requested this assignment on the Enterprise. And I brought Wes with me. Do you think I would have done that if I blamed you for what happened to Jack? If I didn't trust you with my life, and my son's?"

"But it was my order –"

"It was your duty," she countered. "I know that, and so did Jack."

He closed his eyes, and Beverly silently cursed herself for never bringing this up with him before. She'd tried, once, when they'd both been prisoners back on Rutia IV, but events had overtaken them and after that the timing had just never seemed right.

"I never wanted to hurt you. He loved you so."

Beverly bit back a sob of her own, feeling the old ache of missing Jack wash over her once more. "I know." She pulled Jean-Luc against her again, unable to bear the look of haunted sorrow in his gaze. "But you have nothing to be guilty about. Please, Jean-Luc," she begged him as she began to rub small, soothing circles across his back. "Just let it go."

For endless seconds he sat stiffly in her embrace. Then he loosed a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul before finally relaxing against her chest.

"That's right," Beverly murmured, trying to contain her relief at having finally gotten through to him. "Just let it all go."

At that moment the door announcer chimed.

At last, Beverly thought.

Slowly, reluctantly, the two drew apart, mirrored expressions of relief on their faces.

"Okay?" she asked, reaching out a hand to briefly touch his still damp cheek.

He nodded and wiped the remaining tears from his face. "Thank you."

His eyes held more emotion than she was ready to acknowledge, so Beverly settled for giving his hand a quick squeeze before settling into the chair next to his.

Jean-Luc straightened his uniform as best he could and cleared his throat. "Come," he called.

Sarek stepped into the room, his lined face tranquil and proud. "It is done." His eyes met Jean-Luc's. "Thank you, my friend. Are you well enough?"

"Yes." He nodded as he rose, his eyes momentarily slipping to Beverly's. "Yes, I believe I will be."

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