AN: This little story is based off of "The Offspring" and is part of my rewrite of every single TNG episode as a P/C babyfic/pregnancy fic/etc. These are just for entertainment purposes, so please do try not to take them too seriously. They're just for fun.
I will be writing these stories, more than likely, out of order, but I'll move them around in my Ao3 series so that they'll eventually end up in order there.
I own nothing from Star Trek.
I hope you enjoy! If you do, please do let me know!
111
"Now then, William—let's do try to do this quietly enough that your mother can sleep for just a little longer," Jean-Luc said. He pushed the nursery door closed behind him, and he carried his sleeping son over to the changing table. William's nursery was a room that he visited, from time to time, but he and his mother must have agreed, without discussing it with Jean-Luc, that he wouldn't spend a significant amount of time there.
In fact, it was sometimes quite difficult to get William away from his mother for even an insignificant amount of time.
John William Picard had been free from his mother's body for nearly fourteen days now, but he probably wasn't entirely aware of that. Beverly had insisted on going back to work, at least in some capacity, since nearly the moment the umbilical cord was severed. She had asked for permission to keep William with her, and Jean-Luc had granted it after making sure that there were no great objections from anyone who might have any reason to be personally bothered by the request. Beverly had hardly been away from him since he'd been born.
Jean-Luc had to be on duty soon, but he'd heard William stirring in his bassinet, mere feet from his mother, and he'd decided to run away with him for a moment of father-son bonding—and a diaper change.
Jean-Luc was proud of himself. Armed with a pacifier to distract William, and the skills he'd been acquiring as he got to know his son, Jean-Luc was able to change William's diaper, and restore his pajamas, all without causing his son to do more than stare at him with the deeply furrowed brow that amused Jean-Luc a great deal.
"You look very unsure of your Papa," Jean-Luc said, gently lifting his son and shifting him into the crook of his arm, "when Papa has given you no cause at all for concern, beyond the fact that Papa is, simply put, not Mama. Of course, I do believe that therein lies the actual problem." He moved to the rocking chair and settled to rock the baby, drinking in the few moments of quiet morning that they would share before William's concern over his current caretaker gave way to the desire for milk that convinced him that he was within moments of starving to death. As he rocked, Jean-Luc patted his son's bottom the way that he liked, still holding him in the crook of his arm.
"Still, William, you must admit that your Papa's skills have grown immensely. Of course, I'm not at all offended that you find them subpar to those of your mother. On the whole, I consider her skills in most things to be superior to my own, though we don't tell her that all the time. We have to keep egos in check and all that."
The running chatter, while he tended to William, was more to keep William entertained than anything else. The baby seemed to love to be talked to. He had a great number of honorary aunts and uncles aboard the Enterprise, and he seemed to value each of their voices immensely. When he allowed any of them to keep him away from his precious mother for any length of time, he practically required a running commentary from all of them.
Each day, Jean-Luc learned more about his son. He learned more about his likes and dislikes. He saw his little personality taking shape.
Each day, Jean-Luc felt like he learned a great deal. Perhaps, as William's father, he could even argue that he learned more, daily, than he'd learned studying at the Academy.
"I am forced to wonder how much experience he had as a parent when his first child was born."
Data's words ran around and around in Jean-Luc's mind. They had since the moment that Data had said them.
Admiral Haftel was on his way, now, to review the development of Lal—a Soong-type android created by Data, who was, for all intents and purposes, Data's "child." Data considered Lal his child. Lal considered Data her father. Data was doing his best to teach Lal everything that she needed to know to grow and develop. Admiral Haftel, though, was coming to make the judgement about whether or not Lal was better off with Data, under his tutelage, or under the guidance of researchers at Starfleet Research's facility on Galor Four.
Holding William, tiny as he was despite the fact that he was growing every day, Jean-Luc couldn't help but wonder if someone, coming to scrutinize his own parenting in the same way Admiral Haftel was coming to scrutinize Data's parenting of Lal, would think it best to take William away from him.
Every parent, after all, started with a blank slate, and the best that they could do was simply to do the best they could—until they learned how to do better.
"If we're being honest," Jean-Luc said to his son, who was always willing to lend an ear—unless, of course, he was hungry, wet, uncomfortable, or could sense his mother's availability, "if it weren't for your mother, I might not have learned all that I have, and they might be questioning my right to be your father. Still—Data wants to be a father. He wants to do the best that he can for his daughter. He has sought help from everyone that would offer him any assistance in improving his own abilities and in making sure that Lal gets everything she needs. Is it fair, William, to separate them and deny them their family ties—no matter how artificial—simply because the Admiral believes that there is someone out there who might do better? For all that—I'm certain there is someone who might be better, objectively, at teaching you all that you need to know and providing for your needs. But, for all their skill, there would always be one thing that they were lacking—I am your father…your Papa."
William whined at him around his pacifier. He squirmed and balled his fists, tightening every muscle in his body, it seemed, at once. Jean-Luc smiled to himself.
"And, as your father, I know that is one of your signs that you've had just about enough of me. Come, William—let's go wake your mother. You shall spend the day with your Mama, just as you like it, and Papa will attempt to keep another father from being separated from his child."
111
"Jean-Luc is right," Beverly said to Deanna as they dragged their feet, practically waiting outside the conference room. Neither of them was officially on duty at the moment, but they'd both done some work this morning, and they'd been walking laps around the deck to keep busy, but also to be close enough to offer support or congratulations—whichever may be necessary—to Data when the decision had been made. "They're sentient beings. It isn't right to force Data to hand his child over without any reason beyond the fact that they simply believe they could raise Lal better."
"Captain Picard isn't going to let this happen without pleading his case to Starfleet," Deanna said.
Beverly already knew that, of course. She'd sat and talked with Jean-Luc while he'd eaten his breakfast and William had eaten his. Beverly had learned, these days, that it was better to simply put her own meal off until a little later.
Jean-Luc had been battling with this since Data had announced his decision to create an offspring for himself—a decision that he'd made, according to him, because he'd been intrigued by Jean-Luc's experience of becoming a father.
Jean-Luc had finally decided that he would be going with Data to Starfleet Headquarters to plead his case, personally, should Admiral Haftel continue to insist that Lal be separated from Data and taken to the facility on Galor Four. A parent had a right to raise their child how they saw fit. And, as long as no harm was being done to the child, there wasn't really the need, or even the right, of a government institution to interfere in the rearing of that child.
It would be cruel to take Lal from Data.
And Beverly knew that Jean-Luc would fight this, just as he declared he would, because she'd seen the resolution in his eyes. She'd also seen the pain in his eyes, and that pain had made her own chest ache.
For Jean-Luc, the situation was hitting very close to home. Lal, after all, had been created just after William had been born, and Jean-Luc couldn't help but imagine how he would feel if Admiral Haftel were there to take William away instead of Lal.
Beverly would fully support Jean-Luc in leaving the Enterprise, albeit temporarily, to go to Starfleet and fight for this matter. She would support him, too, in the case that his decision had any lasting repercussions.
One thing that Beverly greatly admired about Jean-Luc, and one thing that made her love him all the more, was the fact that his moral compass was quite strong. Beyond that, she loved that he stuck to his beliefs, even when others didn't always approve.
She supported him now, and she would support him no matter what happened.
"Brigado to Troi."
"Troi here."
"I'm outside your office, Counselor. Lal is here, looking for you," Ensign Brigado said. "She seems to be in a state of distress. She's saying something about fear, but I'm afraid that she's not being very clear."
Deanna looked at Beverly and furrowed her brow. Beverly couldn't help but return the confusion. Lal had left the conference room some time before, released to work on her studies while the Admiral conferenced with Data and Jean-Luc. As an android, she wasn't really capable of being in what they might think of as distress, and she was very seldom anything less than clear and precise.
"Keep her there. I'm on my way," Deanna assured the ensign who had called her.
"I'm coming with you," Beverly said.
"There isn't much you can do for her," Deanna said. "No matter what the situation might be."
"No, but I can support you," Beverly offered.
"What about William?" Deanna asked. They were already in route to her office. William, for his part, slept in the wrap that held him tightly against Beverly's chest.
"He slept right through everything that happened following that conduit accident three days ago," Beverly said, keeping pace with Deanna. "I think he's up for helping Lal."
111
"It was cascade failure," Jean-Luc said.
"It was a broken heart," Beverly said.
They were alone in their quarters, preparing for bed—or, at the very least, preparing for what passed as going to bed, these days, with William added into things.
"Which of these pajamas do you think William would prefer?" Jean-Luc asked, offering Beverly her choice of the two he'd gathered from William's clothing.
"The temperature is a bit low," Beverly said. "This one is warmer."
She selected the one she wanted and started dressing the baby that had only recently been taken from the towel where she'd warmed him after a sponge bath.
"I could easily raise the temperature, if you think he'll be more comfortable," Jean-Luc offered.
"He sleeps better when the temperature is a bit lower and his pajamas are a bit warmer," Beverly said.
Jean-Luc couldn't help but smile to himself. He placed his hands—free from the pajamas and everything else he'd brought to Beverly so that she could get their son ready for snuggling and, hopefully, some sleep – on Beverly's shoulders as he stood behind her and watched what she was doing.
He leaned his body against hers with no other intention than to feel the warmth of her body. He closed his eyes, and he inhaled, enjoying the mix of Beverly's familiar scent and the sweet, soft powdery scent that his mind was beginning to think of as completely unique to his newborn son.
Jean-Luc delicately moved Beverly's hair out of the way and pressed a few soft kisses to the back of her neck. She shivered and laughed quietly.
"Captain…" she teased.
Jean-Luc felt his face grow warm at her tone of voice and her teasing.
"Doctor," he teased back.
"You know that…some things are quite out of the question at the moment," she said.
"I'm happy to take a raincheck," Jean-Luc said.
"I'll be sure to write you one."
Jean-Luc smiled as he pressed his lips to her neck, again. This time, he held the kiss a long moment, simply savoring the touch of her skin against his lips.
They could tease each other, because that was what they did. It was one of the ways that they simply communicated with one another. They could go on with their lives as normal. They could wash William, and put him in fresh pajamas, and soon Beverly would nurse him before handing him over—full and practically sedated with pleasure from her milk—for Jean-Luc to cuddle him and read him a story that, though he would not understand it now, he would hopefully learn to expect as a part of life with his parents – his very imperfect parents who were simply doing the best they could.
At least William would be able to grow up with his parents—provided, of course, that nothing happened to stop that. Starfleet wouldn't come demanding that he be taken away.
And if they did…well—Jean-Luc would fight to the death for his son, but God help any man, woman, or other being that thought they could take Beverly's son from her arms.
"Do you really think, Beverly, that Lal died of a broken heart? That seems a slightly less than medical diagnosis."
"Broken Heart Syndrome is a diagnosable syndrome," Beverly said.
Jean-Luc could hear there was only something like half-hearted sincerity there as she helped William latch onto her breast long before he could begin to fuss about wanting milk. Jean-Luc knew that giving him what he would want, before he began to cry for it in earnest, made the evening easier for all of them.
"But you don't believe that an android died of that," Jean-Luc said.
"No," Beverly admitted, making her way into their living area and settling down with a sigh. Jean-Luc sat beside her, as he always did when he could be with her during these evening feedings, and rested an arm around her shoulder while she leaned into him and relaxed. "Still—you have to admit that, if Lal could feel emotion, and if the emotion is ultimately what led to the cascade failure, it's practically the same thing."
Jean-Luc kissed the side of her head.
"You're not wrong, Beverly," he agreed.
"I feel so sorry for Data," Beverly said with a sigh.
"As do I," Jean-Luc said. "I suppose the only blessing is that, though we are sad on Data's behalf, he doesn't feel sadness in the way that we do. And, given that he has kept Lal's memories, he doesn't suffer loss in quite the way we do, when we have lost a loved one."
Beverly was quiet for a long moment. She fussed over William a bit, as was her way, and William happily accepted his mother's affections, having been fed on them, as much as her milk, since the day he'd been born.
"I don't know what I would do, Jean-Luc, if we lost William—if we lost Wesley…"
Wesley, quite independent as he was and growing quickly, already lived alone in what had once been the quarters that Beverly shared with him. It was only a matter of time before he left the ship, and left them, consequently, to go on about his own life—but Jean-Luc knew that wasn't what Beverly meant.
Every parent wanted their child to be able to live an independent life.
The loss that Beverly referenced was a true and irreparable loss.
"Don't say things like that," Jean-Luc whispered softly into her ear, catching her head and gently coaxing her to lean into him even more than she was. "We're not losing anyone. I know you hate it when I say it, but…you're only emotional right now, Beverly. There's no threat here."
"No," she agreed. "Just the same—I really do feel terrible for Data."
"As do I," Jean-Luc said. "Still—Data doesn't regret his decision to create Lal, even knowing now that he would lose her so soon after truly feeling that he was coming to know her and understand her, and I understand that."
Beverly looked at him. His throat ached slightly at the redness of her eyes and the evidence of droplets on her lashes. She was swallowing back her emotion, but she felt Data's loss very deeply on his behalf.
"You do?" She asked.
"I do," Jean-Luc said. He smiled at her and touched her face for no other reason than he simply craved to touch her as much as he could. "Being a father has been one of the greatest things to ever happen to me. William—and the time I've shared with him and the love I feel for him—is worth everything to me. I wouldn't trade it for the world. And, though I hope to never lose that, to have known it is still one of the greatest experiences that I could have. It's better to have loved, and lost, than never to have loved at all."
"You're a wonderful Papa," Beverly offered.
Jean-Luc smiled at her efforts to build up his ego as a parent.
"Only because I have the support of William's wonderful Mama," he responded.
Beverly leaned toward him and he changed his position enough to give her the kiss she requested—a kiss he craved. When it broke, he held her eyes for a moment.
"It's time for a story, Papa," Beverly said.
"You're quite right," he said, leaning over the side of the couch and selecting one of the appropriate books from the small stack they kept easily within reach. "Papa has chosen…a lovely story about a tiger, it would seem. Now—do come, William, and get settled, so that your Mama can more comfortably recline. She will, of course, be asleep before we have finished our second run-through of the tiger's most exciting escapades."
Beverly laughed at his teasing. After William was settled in Jean-Luc's arms, Beverly changed her position to rest her head in Jean-Luc's lap where she would, just as he'd suggested, be asleep before he felt like he'd spent enough time holding William and reading to him. He would read the adventures of the tiger until William grew bored with listening to his father's voice.
Jean-Luc, like Beverly, couldn't quite put Data's loss entirely out of his mind. It was still too fresh, and too raw, and it hit entirely too close to home as he held his precious son and marked one day more of William's life as complete.
Still, Jean-Luc meant what he'd told Beverly. He didn't regret, on Data's behalf, that Lal had ever come into being. Rather, he was happy for Data that, at least, he had had the experience that he'd craved after seeing Jean-Luc with William.
Being a father was one of Jean-Luc's greatest blessings.
The other greatest blessing of his life began to snore lightly with her head in his lap.
Jean-Luc smiled to himself, his heart swelling with profound love and joy. He turned the page, kept his voice soft and low the way that William most liked it, and the way that best lulled Beverly when she wished to nap, and he read about a silly little tiger leaping in the grass after a caterpillar as though it were the greatest work of literature known to man.