"Wait," Jean Luc stops mid step. Quickly turning behind him, phaser already primed, "How do we know we're not walking into a trap? That Jack isn't still using holography?"
Chakotay lowers his voice automatically as if to avoid being overheard. "We deactivated the building's holoemiters. Everything," He motions around us. "Is cut, bar the signals for Kathryn's and my own communicators. We thought it prudent to keep some communication lines open."
Jean Luc nods appreciatively. "Good thinking." He turns to continue towards the door, but like a string is tugging at him, he pulls back. "Beverly?" His voice is low, smooth, and placating. I think, deep down, he knows that I'm furious with him. He knew all along that there was a bigger plan in place – yet he deemed it sufficient not to tell me. We've never kept secrets in the past. Why would he start now when the stakes are so high?
I don't respond, I simply meet his gaze with angry eyes. His hands come up in surrender. "We have to go," He whispers before he turns back and continues his feverish pace back to the door we came from. For a moment, all I can think of is how much I can't wait to hear him try to explain this away later.
Chakotay's long legs reach him in two paces. "Are you ready, Captain?"
I feel Kathryn take my arm. Kathryn for some reason she deems it necessary to extend some modicum of comfort to me. When I shrug her away, though, just before the door opens, I think she understands why; I'm tired of being considered the victim, by myself and by others; I don't need anyone's pity. More than that, I'm frustrated and truly at the human brink of exhaustion.
I steel myself again to face Jack as the grey hydraulic doors slip open with that characteristic hiss.
Robotically and out of trained habit, my fingers manipulate the phaser, programming the highest setting and pointing the weapon out away from my body.
Jean Luc and Chakotay move in front, obscuring my initial view. I hear the console, though. The smell in the room hits me – musty, smelling of a body too long lingering.
"Bruce," Jack drawls, his back still turned to the door. "Did you take care of them?" He laughs as he continues his work. "I hope Beverly didn't suffer too much. I would want that pretty face t-"
"It's over, Jack," Jean Luc booms.
A brief silence settles over the small room as Jack's shoulders slump. My eyes dart to Wesley, who has a small self-impressed smile planted on his face as he moves towards us.
"You son of a bitch," Jack sneers at Wes. "You son of a bitch."
Wesley's smile grows as he throws his hands up in mock surrender. "Blood isn't always thicker than water, Jack. What can I say?"
Jack's neck veins are bulging as his respirations increase – telltale signs that he's flesh and blood and not comprised of complex photonic wave patterns like he was the first time. "Well, Johnnie," he leers at Jean Luc. "You got me again."
"Jack," He breathes with a distinctly palpable air of melancholy. "What have you become?"
For a moment, silence reigns as the two stare one another down. But then, Jack smiles and a sense of uncharacteristic calm settles over his mien. "Put that phaser away, Johnnie. You and I both know you don't have the heart to kill me." He laughs, "You always were such a sentimental fool."
Jean Luc looks down contemplatively at the small weapon in his hand. "You know, Jack," he exhales. "You're right." I hear a small beep coming from that little phaser. For a moment, just a small moment, I think he's given up. But then, with the speed of a cat his arm extends and his finger depresses the fire button, hitting jack just above the heart. He'll bleed out – it won't be quick, but it'll be quick enough. "But," He shouts as the phaser blast hits him. "You threatened my family, you bastard."
His body careens against the console with such a force that I can hear the crack of several vertebrae. His face registers shock, horror as he hits the carpeted floor with a solid thud. Muffled cries and blood spurt from Jack's mouth like a fountain. His chest heaves with the weight of exertion as he tries in vain to gather enough oxygen. We round his body, our own eyes now confirming his death as we register an end to our woes and all the atrocities that have been committed under this man's blithe direction and approval.
He raises his arm, his eyes trained on Wesley. "My son," he gasps, reaching out to him.
"No, Jack," Wesley shakes his head as he kneels to his level. "No. I'm not your son. I've never been your son. And now, no one will remember you, Jack. No one will remember your name. Jack Crusher," he breathes. "Everything about it will be erased from history."
His eyes dance with frustration, "You…" he wheezes. "You…have…my… name."
Wesley smiles and shakes his head as he speaks the final message Jack's mortal ears will ever register. "Picard," He smiles as he smoothes matted hair. "My name is Wesley Robert Picard, and you're nothing but a distant memory."
And with one last look of consternation and defeat, Jack Crusher passes from this life. My flesh and bone fingers on his cooling neck no longer register a pulse. His eyes, though, remain open as they blankly stare into a deluge of regret.
"He's dead." I announce, dropping my weapon beside the body near the encroaching pool of blood.
The room hangs still and silent. Nothing moves in the building. No one makes a sound until I hear the soft exhalation of warm breath leaving Wesley's nose.
He stands, not taking a look back. "Let's go home."
Thank you to everyone who nagged me - you know who you are (martin -I'm sending vibes your way.) Now, let's see if Becca can keep on track and not leave y'all hanging for ages! Thank you everyone!