"What was it like, Jean Luc?"

"You were there, Beverly. You know. It was horrible."

That isn't what I want to know, "what happened after the explosion?"

He looks down, ashamed, "I panicked, Beverly." He draws in a deep breath and continues, "that explosion went off and it was like I could see it in slow motion. Will was talking to Jorin. I was half listening – I kept glancing back at you. I remember you tending to a young woman." He stops; a pained expression comes over his face like he is seeing it all over again.

"Go on, Jean Luc."

"Well, the next thing I knew the wall in front of you exploded. Thankfully you weren't directly in front of the blast, just very close to it. The force knocked down Will, Jorin, and me down. It was so sudden. It was very loud and I remember a ringing in my ears when I finally got back onto my feet. I was disoriented and a little dizzy. I couldn't see in front of me. As you remember, the air was already quite thick. But after the explosion I couldn't see anything. I looked for you, but I didn't see you."

He grabs my hand reflexively as he continues, "I, I just kept saying your name. I ran over to the wall that had collapsed. There were dead bodies everywhere and I just kept praying that your body wasn't one of them. I looked and looked and that's when I started lifting rubble. It was quite thick and I couldn't see very well. Will told me that I just kept yelling your name. Finally, I spotted your hair," he looks up at me; "I'd know your hair anywhere". I smile, squeeze his hand, and urge him to continue, "When we found you, your body was partially shielded by that of a young girl. It was at that point that the transporters activated and I found myself back on the Enterprise."

We sit in silence, each of us deep in thought. His hand never leaves mine. I look down at our joined hands. It isn't a particularly romantic moment – it shouldn't be. But even in the midst of my sadness, I can't help but notice how well they fit together. I've always hated my fingers. Spider hands, that's what Jack used to call them. But, as I sit there and look at his fingers entwined with my own, I can't help thinking how beautiful they are.

I let out a sigh, "I feel so guilty. She was so young."

He looks right at me, "I know." And he does know. He knows because he went through the same emotions that I am experiencing right now; he felt guilty when Jack died and it was supposed to be him. "But Beverly, she was going to die anyway."

I am suddenly thrown, "what?"

He holds up his other hand, calming the maelstrom, "There is nothing that you could have done to prevent that wall from being hit by a bomb. Nothing you did caused that girl to be sitting there at that moment. This… this just happened and there was nothing that you could have done to stop it."

I hadn't looked at it like that, but I can see how he's right. But still, "then why does that bring me no comfort?"

He smirks sympathetically, "because you care and you wanted to help her. Because it's who you are."

He looks at the chronometer on the wall, "I should go." He stands and lets go of my hand, "shall I come back for breakfast?"

"Yes."

"Well, goodnight then." He reaches behind me again and puts the bed down to a comfortable position, takes the plate, replaces the table, and gives me a final nod before he leaves.

I'm still not tired. But then again I haven't been on the planet to help negotiate the treaty, nor have I been in the senior staff room pounding out strategy, nor have I been on the bridge. So, I lay back and settle into my thoughts – which tonight bring me, no surprise, to Jean Luc.