"Doctor," Alyssa's cheery voice began, "you're awake!"

My eyes flutter open. Too bright – it's much too bright in here.

"Alyssa," my voice is harsh, scratchy. "How long?"

"You've been asleep for 4 days, Doctor," her voice turns somber.

4 days! How could I have been asleep for 4 days? I vauguely know what happened. I think I dreamt about it. I still remember that smell. I still remember those bodies. The memory is too raw – too fresh.

"Alyssa," I clear my throat, "what's happened?"

Alyssa gingerly takes my hand and folds it in her own; I know this tactic – I use it all the time. In fact, I think it taught it to her. I know what it means: bad news.

"Do you remember anything that happened?"

"Yes, the planet. I remember treating a young woman and then I woke up here. Tell me, Alyssa, what is it?"

"We were trying to beam you out when the building that you were in came under heavy fire and you must have been standing close to where a rocket hit the building. You were beamed here just in time".

"But?" Now the bad news…

"But part of the wall collapsed on you. We were able to beam you out, but you sustained heavy injuries. You lost a lot of blood. Dr. Selar was able to stabilize you, but for a while we didn't think you were going to make it."
I'm focused now, "what's the prognosis?"

There is a lag. This can't be good, "you sustained crush injuries to your right femur. The bone was completely shattered - the same with your left scapula and right humerus. Because of the position that the wall landed on you, a two lumbar vertebrae were similarly damaged-"

"Spinal cord?" Now I am panicking. I try to move my legs, but they wont respond to my internal command.

"You suffered spinal shock."

"If it's shock, I should have recovered by now. Was any of the cord transected at the injury site?"

"No. But Doctor, we've heard of cases of spinal shock taking up to weeks to recover."

I'm panicking and Alyssa can tell, "Beverly," She never uses my first name, but somehow it's soothing, "please calm down. Your reflexes and use of your limbs will recover." Intuitively I know that she's right. I know all the healing pathways, but somehow it brings me no comfort. I turn my mind to something else, "what about the Captain and the Commander?"

"They suffered only minor injuries." I close my eyes. That's good. She continued softy, "He's been here every day. We can't seem to get him to leave."
I smile, "the Captain?"
Just at that moment, I hear the familiar hiss of Sickbay's main doors. Alyssa looks up, "Captain!"

I turn my head and smile. He looks tired. He looks older when he's tired. Dark circles have formed under his eyes. He always seems to have faint dark circles, but today they're so stark that they seem to be painted on.

Alyssa touches my arm, breaking my reverie, "I'll be in to look on your later. When Dr. Selar comes on duty, she'll want to look at your wounds."

I nod my head and turn to my guest, "Jean Luc," I smile. I sense a small hesitation before he starts to amble over to my side,

"Beverly" he whispers. I love the way he says my name – and it's not just the accent. There is a sort of reverence to his tone. But, I've noticed that over the years that the tone has become tainted with a hint of sadness. In the past two years, he's used less and less of my name. He now refers to me as Doctor – sometimes even when we're alone. It's how he distances himself from me. It's how we keep each other out. Jean Luc calls me one of his best friends. If I told you the truth, I'd say he is one of mine as well. Yes, our friendships is different than the one that I have with Deanna, but still it's meaningful and it brings me great comfort.

We've been friends since we were at the academy. I remember how he was back then – he was so young and full of life. He's still full of life but he's different now. I suppose that's to be expected when you have such an onus of responsibility. He started to distance himself from me after I married Jack. Well, even before then. I first sensed his beginning hesitation when Jack and I announced our engagement. I started to wonder back then if he was in love with me. There were always subtle hints. Everything with Jean Luc is subtle, though, so it was hard to tell. I remember the way that he used to look at me when it was just the two of us. His eyes lit up and a small crooked smile would always tug at his cheeks. He never flirted outright, but there was a certain comfort to our companionship. Conversation was easy but even silence was laidback. Now I know why – I found out a few months ago when we had escaped the prison facility on Kesprytt. I heard his thoughts in my head. He was in love with me all those years ago. He told me though – assured me even – that those feelings had gone away. I had a lingering suspicion that they hadn't but I said nothing. I had carefully shrouded my thoughts that night so that he would never know how I felt about him in return – how I too was in love with him all those years ago and how I'm still in love with him. The next evening, he broached the topic again and I rebuffed him. Why did I do that? I'm still scared. I'm still hesitant. Jean Luc is an important man. Starfleet has hailed him as one of their best captains. He commands the Federation's flagship vessel. He's made thousands of first contacts. He is devoted to who he is and, sometimes I think, the image of who he is. But that's not the whole reason that I turned him down. I've been a Starfleet wife before. I've had a husband who was married to his work and I was the mistress in that relationship. Don't get me wrong Jack was a wonderful husband- when he was home. He was attentive and caring, but I knew that I was second best. He never would have admitted it, but I knew it was true. Jean Luc has become the same way – and I don't ever see that changing.
He continues tentatively over to my bedside and takes my hand, "how are you feeling?" he asks softly.

"I'm sorry." I don't know why that came out. Why am I saying sorry?

"Why?"

I smile, "I don't know. I felt the need to say it. I'm sorry for scaring you."

"You were doing your job."

"I know."

"And I always worry about you."

"I know." I know this conversation is leading us to the realm of feelings and I don't want to go there now, "What happened on the planet? Were you able to negotiate the peace treaty?"

"Yes. The fighting subsided. We're still in the middle of negotiation. But, at least the firing has stopped."

"Good." That's all I can say right now.
"Well," he fumbles, "I'm glad to see that you're alright. I.. um.. I have to get back to the bridge. I'll come and see you later." There's something that Jean Luc isn't telling me. I can feel it as he gives me a half grin and walks away.