Unconditional
Synopsis:
2380. After the Enterprise suffers an attack, Picard ends up at Starfleet Medical under Beverly's care.
Rating: M
Part 1
"Jean-Luc?" perched on the edge of the biobed, Beverly lays one hand on Jean-Luc's chest over top of the blue blanket covering his gown-clad body, her eyes rapidly scanning the biomonitor above the bed in the private room in the infirmary at Starfleet Medical.
Blinking slowly, Picard clears the haze from his eyes, staring up tentatively at the woman in a blue lab coat on the biobed hovering above him.
"Jean-Luc!" gasps Beverly in relief, running her hand ever so gently down his chest. Regaining her detachment, Beverly returns her attention to the biomonitors above the bed to check Picard's vital signs and brain activity. "How are you feeling?"
With a low groan, Jean-Luc shifts up, alarmed and confused. "Uh…?"
Refocusing her attention on her patient, Beverly shakes her head, guiding his shoulders gently and carefully back down to the bed. "It's okay, Jean-Luc. You're alright. Take it easy."
"What?…Where?" Stutters Picard, his eyes scanning the room.
Rubbing his shoulder, Beverly slides closer on to the bed, smiling softly. "It's alright. You're in the infirmary at Medical. You took quite a blow when the Enterprise was assaulted. They towed the ship back to McKinley and you, and a dozen other crew, were transferred to the infirmary." Beverly smiles playfully, moving her hand down his right arm. "You gave me quite a scare when I found you on my operating table, Jean-Luc."
Furrowing his brows, Picard regards her questioningly. "You're my doctor?"
Eyes dilating, Beverly's lips part, absorbing Jean-Luc's words and his vacant expression. "Yes. Yes, I'm your doctor."
"What am I doing here?" inquires Picard, tilting his next to appraise his body, covered by the blue blanket.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Beverly forces herself to become clinical. "You broke your clavicle, a few ribs, your left arm. You punctured a lung." Studying his strange eyes looking back at her, Beverly exhales audibly. "And, you have a concussion."
Nodding slowly, Jean-Luc brings his left arm, set in a short cast across his forearm, from under the blanket and rests it on top of his chest.
"How do you feel? Are you sore?" Assessing his physical and emotional condition, Beverly notes his obvious confusion and apprehension.
As head of Starfleet Medical, Beverly doesn't typically find herself in the operating room on a daily basis. She oversees Starfleet Medical, is the bureaucratic representative of Medical to the Starfleet upper echelon. She has a large staff to manage at Medical and an awful lot of reporting to do to Starfleet. Beverly serves as liaison and diplomatic officer on medical issues, and spearheads new research initiatives. Most days she's in meetings or behind the large desk in her massive corner office. So, it's rare for her to scrub up and get behind a laser scalpel. However, when the Enterprise sustained a massive attack and a dozen officers were transferred to her infirmary, Beverly all but ran to personally investigate the situation. She wouldn't permit any of her staff to as much as touch the one Jean-Luc Picard until she had thoroughly assessed him for herself. And, in a matter of hours, Beverly, along with her skilled and experienced team, had Picard patched up, almost as good as new. She had assumed he was out of the woods.
Pursing his lips, Picard nods trepidatiously.
Beverly retrieves a hypo spray beside her on the biobed and leans in to press it to his neck, and Picard flinches. Resting her hand on his arm, Beverly smiles warmly. "This will alleviate the pain."
Sighing in relief, Picard bobs his head. "Thank you. Got a little headache."
Frowning, Beverly nods, patting his right, uninjured, arm. "Yes. You hit your head. The medicine will help."
"Thank you, Doctor," murmurs Jean-Luc, his eyes drifting closed.
Sighing, Beverly lifts herself off of the bed, dropping the hypospray into the pocket of her lab coat.
It's worse than I thought. He's lost his memory. And, I don't think it's the concussion.
PAGE BREAK
Slipping into the private room in the infirmary, Beverly is somewhat surprised to find Picard seated upright in the biobed.
"Doctor Crusher!" Picard exclaims, extending his right arm.
Alarmed, Beverly races to his side. "What's wrong, Jean-Luc?"
"I was looking for…you…" stammers Jean-Luc, face contorted in confusion. "I…I didn't know…The…nurse…Nurse said you were Doctor Crusher?"
Smiling warmly, Beverly perches on the edge of the biobed beside his hip. "I'm sorry. I had a conference with another colleague." Quickly scanning the biomonitor above the bed, Beverly notes that his vitals have improved in the two hours she had been absent video conferencing with a colleague. "How are you feeling?"
"Nurse…Nurse…Maggie? She said you were in charge?" Picard asks inquisitively, fumbling for words.
Producing a hypospray from the pocket of her lab coat, Beverly administers it to his neck. "Yes. I'm in charge of Starfleet Medical."
"Doctor Crusher?" confirms Picard, relaxing slightly.
"Call me 'Beverly'," instructs Beverly softly, a bittersweet smile on her lips. Never would she have imagined he'd forget her name.
Seemingly satisfied, Picard nods. "And, I'm … Jean-Luc Picard? You say I'm captain of some star ship?"
Eyes widening, Beverly forces a neutral expression. "Yes. The Enterprise. The ship is undergoing extensive repairs right now."
"My crew, are they alright?" Picard asks hesitantly.
Smiling, Beverly almost sees the real Picard behind these stranger's hazel eyes. "They're all going to be fine, Jean-Luc."
Frowning, Picard exhales. "I'm sorry. I don't…I can't recall anything."
Laying her hand on his arm, Beverly nods encouragingly. "It's okay. Your body has been through trauma. It's likely that as your brain heals your memory will return."
Appearing frustrated, Picard huffs.
"You must be hungry," Beverly surmises, rising off of the bed. "I'll get you some soup."
Picard watches as the doctor makes her way to the door.
"I'll be back in a moment," promises Beverly, dipping out into the corridor.
PAGE BREAK
"Beverly?"
Startled out of her reverie, Beverly glances up from the PADD in her hand to find her trusted second, right-hand, Tal George, standing in front of her in the corridor looking at her with concerned grey eyes.
Doctor Tal George, a silver-haired, tall man, had been a classmate of Beverly's at the Academy many moons ago, and she had had the opportunity to collaborate with him at Medical over the decades. When she had returned to Earth to head Medical, she had been thrilled to have Tal as her Assistant Head.
Exhaling, Beverly smiles lightly. "Tal. Sorry."
"What is it?" Doctor George inquires, gesturing to the PADD in her hands.
Frowning, Beverly folds her arms across her chest. "Jean-Luc's level four neurographic scan."
"What's wrong?" the tall, angular doctor asks in concern. Tal, as Beverly's Second, spends most of his time as the senior-most physician in the infirmary. He treats the most dire cases and manages the staff. All day he had been treating the injured crew of the Enterprise , and he had been relieved that Beverly's old friend and commanding officer, Picard , seemed to have a positive prognosis.
A young Vulcan nurse quietly approaches them in the corridor, carrying a metal tray. "Doctor Crusher?"
Inhaling, Beverly nods her gratitude to the nurse, handing her PADD to the young nurse before accepting the tray with a bowl of soup and glass of water and utensils. "Thank you, T'Lessa."
The Vulcan nods before backing out.
"What can I do?" offers Doctor George as Beverly shifts the tray in her arms.
Sighing, Beverly shakes her head. "I'm going to get my patient some dinner. Actually, do you think you can send a message? Contact the Titan. Can you ask Deanna Troi to call me? At her convenience."
Nodding in understanding, Doctor George folds his hands behind his back. "Of course."
"Thanks, Tal," smiles Beverly appreciatively.
"Is there anything else I can do?" asks Doctor George hopefully.
"Yes," grimaces Beverly, tears threateningly stinging the backs of her eyes. "Invent a cure for Irumodic Syndrome."