Chapter Five

A/N.. I am so sorry but I just found a HUGE typo in the very beggining that says hes been there six weeks but it should say months! I hope that doesnt screw things up too much. Okay bye:)

A quick escape from the med bay and a large meal brought him to the beginning of an early morning shower. He looked in the mirror where he watched himself desperately trying to remember how he'd combed his hair. The branded burns creeped passed his wrists and poked out above his sleeves. He worried what Picard would think of it and then realized he didn't care. His lip was still split passed his chin and his eye thankfully no longer swollen so he didn't look like a total wreck. His skin deeply tanned and cheeks red with sun burns. His eyes still carried a tight sleep that made his skin shine. He was skinnier but more toned with muscle. He hadn't looked in a mirror for months, and now he didn't recognize himself. He straightened out his dusty uniform, thankful for the familiarity but fearful of his ability to perform. Then after tossing down the comb in frustration, he wondered what he was doing it for. He used his hand to ruffle it back to the way it was and walked away without another thought.

No one was awake yet, creating the perfect opportunity to walk the halls. It might help him snap back into habit, or atleast help him pretend nothing has happened or changed. The calm tones and nudes that painted the decks were interrupted by a figure in black and red. Captain Picard had turned the corner just as Wesley had begun to pass it up, causing them both to stop.

"Wesley, I.. What are you doing?" He said scanning him up and down. "I didn't think they'd released you yet."

He really didn't feel like talking. He began with an involuntary sigh. "I got a good night's sleep." Lie. An obvious one at that as he rubbed his eyes that drooped above his cheeks like a hounddog.

"No." Picard said simply.

"No?" he croaked his confused reply.

"No, I'm relieving you of duty for two more days, longer if need be, now go." he sternly spoke. Wesley opened his mouth with hand on his heavy chest.

"Please sir.. I don't.." he hesitated with a hand through his hair. "I don't want to think right now. I just wanna work."

Picard chose his next words carefully, knowing full well the care needed after such situations.

"Heal your body first son. The mind will come after." his eyes ardently trying to get through to him. "And with time, I promise it will."

His hand fell from Wesleys shoulder down to his side as Wesley walked away with his hands in his pockets and a quick nod with, what appeared to be, watered eyes. Picard continued his hour of peace, walking away with slight disappointment for the lack of response in his encouragement. Wesley ripped the uniform off his body and collapsed into bed, secretly and extremely grateful for the exchange that granted him sleep. His body weighed a ton and the warm colored galaxy had confidentially been lulling him to sleep. He hadn't asked any questions yet, hadn't had a real talk with anyone about what happened, but what did it really matter now. He thought of his mother before sleep stole him away. He wondered if anyone had alerted her on Jegras 3, the planet she'd been serving on that had a lethal plague and terrible reception. He hoped they hadn't, it was better she heard the story as a memory anyway. And with that slightly comforting thought, he was swallowed and consumed by a coma-like slumber.

...

He slept a total of 46 hours. Half way through, the others let anxiety get the better of them and snuck in to check on him. One hand on his forehead and the other on his stomach with the blankets kicked off the bed while he lay in his t-shirt and boxers. Deanna laid them over him with a kiss to his forehead and a loving word. She feared the agony she sensed and had closed her mind to it since he was on the planet. She felt almost guilty but it was her procedure for all patients on the ship that were going through something too overwhelming to endure on top of her own feelings.

When he finally did wake, it still didn't seem enough. It was the middle of the night and he checked the stardate with a hand on his jaw that lay open in shock. 'Damn the consequences' he thought before laying his head back down. He stared at the ceiling as he pondered his next step. His misery and utter despair hadn't left him, but he hadn't exactly hoped for it. Instead he allowed himself to sink lower into the heartless, gutless, careless place he'd found himself in since his experience had left him without a further purpose and without his beloved.

The aspirations that pushed him before, no longer seemed relevant. His time at the academy was over and he wasn't even sure what they'd do with him. But he couldn't worry about it. Nothing consumed his thoughts but the memories of what had been. Now he must face the day and all those that, for some reason, needed to hear him speak. Nothing sounded less appealing. In a few hours, he'd head to the conference room where they'd be praying on his attendance. But for now, he'd just stare at the ceiling.