Picard looked absently around the living room that the housekeeper had shown him into. She indicated that one of the doctors would be along shortly before silently withdrawing. Their rendez-vous with the Titan was scheduled at 21h00, so they needed to beam up to the shuttle by 19h00 at the latest in order to make it to the designated coordinates on time.
He'd arrived early, telling himself that it was not because he wanted to see where they lived, how they lived with this man… Instead of dwelling on his immediate circumstances, or upon the upcoming first meeting with his son, while waiting his mind turned instead to the final seconds of the scene in Dr. Moata's office that morning.
Beverly had been upset but hiding it well as she'd brushed past without looking at him on her way out the door. In fact, had he not known her as well as he did, he likely wouldn't have noticed anything amiss at all. Dr. Zeneth had surprised him completely by stopping squarely in front of him, just short of the door. The man wore a sad but resigned look on his face that Picard couldn't help but sympathise with.
"I will speak with her… Make her see that this is what is best."
"I… thank you." He knew that he would not find it as easy to be so magnanimous were their positions reversed.
"You can thank me, Admiral, by taking care of them both, and never forgetting what it was like to live without her… Because that is what I am now condemned to, and I do not want to come to learn that you have not properly appreciated my sacrifice…". Jean-Luc maintained eye contact as he nodded at the other man.
He hadn't known what to think. The man had seemed to be hinting that he knew more about the relationship between himself and Beverly than he had thus far revealed. Perhaps his mind, his thoughts had given him away. Now, of course, he felt… guilty.
Here he'd been questioning the ethical and moral compass of a medical professional beginning a relationship with a vulnerable patient completely dependent upon him… He closed his eyes, mortified and ashamed; he should be thankful that she'd had someone there to help her, to care for her and Jack instead of allowing jealousy to cloud his perception and judgement.
Even now, several hours later, he could feel the shame bringing colour and heat to his face. To distract himself he took a cursory look around the room and noticed there was a closed door opposite the one he'd been shown through, so perhaps he was in some sort of antechamber.
He took in the furniture, all very light in colour (greys, tans, creams) set against darker coloured shelves of some type of wooden material with which he was unfamiliar. Probably a native species, he mused.
He was just about to approach one of the shelves on which sat holos and photos when the sound of slightly raised voices stopped him. One of the voices he recognised immediately and mere seconds later he could also identify Dr. Zeneth.
He moved towards the door, on alert. It didn't sound like an argument, but he couldn't quite tell at such a distance from the door. Once he was standing directly in front of it, he could clearly hear Beverly, but he didn't think he'd ever heard her use that specific tone of voice before, at least not with him.
"I don't want to go…. Please, Jentar…."
"You need to do this… as your former physician, as your friend… as one who cares for you…. I cannot allow you to remain in this state if you could, in fact, recover your memory, regain your sense of self, who you are. Beverly…"
"Don't call me that!" Picard could hear Beverly now crying in the next room.
"You're sending me away! Why are you sending me away?" She was more emotional than Picard had ever heard her before, her reaction to this perceived rejection clear.
He had no doubt that she'd *been* that emotive. Beverly's life had been peppered with tragedy and difficulty; Jack's death and Wesley's departure sprang instantly to mind… However, he had never personally heard her express her feelings quite this openly, or at least not any negative feelings.
He couldn't decide if in the past he'd just decided that she didn't have any, or that she confined her emotional release to moments when she was alone. He honestly had the sinking feeling that he hadn't ever really thought of Beverly's emotional wellbeing on anything other than a surface level, at all. This doctor, however, certainly had.
He continued to eavesdrop, admitting openly to himself that that was indeed what he was doing; he should have moved away from the door and afforded them their privacy immediately after verifying Beverly's welfare. He could hear the mounting panic in her voice, even though it was very well hidden, and it made his stomach shrivel. Even if *this* Beverly had no idea what was behind the panic filling her voice in this moment, *he* did…
That conversation, the last words they'd ever spoken to each other bar the handful they'd exchanged in the last two days, was engraved into his memory. He could still picture her there in front of him as if it had happened only minutes ago and not years, the moment which over the last six years had become his life's biggest regret. Had Q appeared and offered him to change one thing…. It would be that five minutes in his ready room with Beverly, timeline and consequences be damned.
The Enterprise, six years previously…
"Beverly, there is no point in having this conversation yet again." The irritation and impatience in his voice left no doubt that he considered this conversation unnecessary, exasperating even. "Yet more discussions about us, our relationship, are a distraction which I can ill afford at this most critical of moments..."
He'd known it was a mistake the moment the words had left his mouth. He hadn't meant it as it sounded but knew that that was exactly how she would interpret it. They couldn't seem to communicate without arguing lately.
Circular conversations about duty and commitment and making time for them all seemed to end up here, with him saying something he profoundly regretted later, and her storing up hurt and erecting an emotional wall around herself that he wouldn't be able to penetrate for days if not weeks.
It wouldn't be days or even weeks this time. He was scheduled to depart the Enterprise for good within the next 24 hours to take up his admiralship, to fully immerse himself in the ongoing efforts to try and save the Romulan people. *That,* of course, was the entire issue…
"Far be it from me to interfere with history and the role that destiny has selected for the great Captain, sorry *Admiral* Picard…"
"This is exactly what I am talking about. Your overly emotional demands…"
He saw her flinch back as if he'd slapped her, and the regret that rose up in him, overwhelmed him, suffocating him. His inability to express himself, his emotions, literally paralyzed him at this moment. She let loose a dark laugh with absolutely no humour in it, then turned towards the door pausing to throw a parting shot over her shoulder.
"Don't worry about it *Admiral*… I won't trouble you further with my… demands…. Goodbye Jean-Luc. Have a safe trip."
Standing outside a door in her house, listening to her emotional release, he remembered that last day, those final moments which would be all they would have before six years, two quadrants and another life came between them.
The way she'd said goodbye, the intonation had made him pause, a feeling of icy premonition clawing its way up his back. And he vividly remembered his thought as the doors to his ready room hissed closed on her departing form, how he'd thought that now he was being dramatic.
He'd known he'd been unfair to her, unnecessarily harsh and inexcusably rude, but he'd determined that he could deal with her melodramatic exit later. Only much later, when everything had fallen apart and he'd been left with nothing, had he wondered why in the hell he hadn't realised that Beverly had never before been melodramatic, had never used her emotions as a weapon in that way.
He'd been so caught up, no *obsessed,* you were obsessed, Jean-Luc he admitted now when it was far too late… that he'd struck out at her, pushed her away so that he could maintain the emotional control and focus he'd believed necessary to do his duty.
All he could think now, hearing movement behind the door and distancing himself slightly so it wouldn't be obvious what he'd been up to should it open suddenly, was that rather than resulting in the control and focus he'd sought by putting distance between them, it had led to the eventual unraveling of his entire life, both personal and professional…
Jean-Luc had been asking himself some very difficult questions since he'd watched Dr. Zeneth walk out of the psychiatrist's office earlier that day. Why was he doing this? Was he doing this for him or for her? Regardless of how it had eventuated, wasn't this what she had been planning anyway? To disappear? Wasn't it now selfish of him, Starfleet no longer there to occupy his time, to swoop in and demand that she give up her life here, her happiness?
"How do I know that he won't…?"
"We've been over this… I wouldn't allow…"
"It's obvious that he and this… this Beverly" she spat out the name "weren't even together when she left Starfleet. SHE. LEFT. We've both looked at her records. Now, does she seem like someone who would abandon her life, her career, on a whim… and with a child no less…?"
He couldn't listen to anymore. He didn't want to hear it. He moved about the room trying to distract himself, easily spotting evidence of their shared life as a family. He picked up a holo of Beverly, Jentar, and a younger Jack and after less than a minute's perusal put it down, the base echoing loudly against the table. He'd just picked up another photograph when a voice sounded behind him.
"You almost broke it." He swung around only to come face to face with Beverly's piercing blue eyes staring back at him from a face that was a youthful miniature of his own. He was ill prepared for this moment.
"I…"
"Jack, please go on upstairs and help Mom finish packing."
"Ok." The boy tossed Picard one more curious look before slipping out the door.
Jentar had entered the room as silently as Jack, and Picard, caught off guard once again, now spun around in the opposite direction towards the connecting door, a framed photograph still clutched guiltily in his hand. He went to put it back down on top of the shelf, but Jentar gently removed it from his grasp. Releasing a sigh and, smiling slightly, he looked at the image with what could only be interpreted as sadness and nostalgia.
"This is La'kso Canyon, in the northern hemisphere. It is mostly barren, but a population of scaled monarchs resides there." Seeing Picard's confusion he elaborated. "A large bird-like species. They resemble a reptile but are capable of flight. Jack wanted to see one in person, so…" He gently put the frame back on the shelf and turned to Picard with an unreadable expression on his face.
"When looking through the records on Beverly Crusher over the past two days, I came across other information. Not just her Starfleet record, which is impressive… but other things… of a more personal nature… We had no idea that she was travelling under an assumed name." When Picard didn't volunteer any information, he continued.
"Was it for a Starfleet mission? An undercover assignment or a ruse of some sort?" Picard continued to eye him warily, saying nothing. "It just seems strange, travelling all alone with an infant and using an entirely, and intricately I might add, fabricated identity." Jentar picked up another photo from the shelf, gently moving his index finger over the image of Beverly and Jack's faces as he spoke.
"There was absolutely no indication that she was in any way affiliated with Starfleet, or any other Terran group. I *did* send a message to the Federation offices, but only received a standard reply. There was no evidence that the woman bearing the name she was travelling under was missing or being actively searched for, and she seemed to have no living relatives." He placed the picture frame onto the shelf and turned fully to face Picard, his expression serious.
"I don't know what went on between you…. I have come to care for Elspeth... a great deal." He paused drawing in a breath. "I, of course, had someone, a friend, in our diplomatic service look into you…". His eyes were boring into Picard's, unwavering.
"Everything he uncovered points to the fact that you are a man of your word…. I am trusting her… them… to you. I suspect that things between you before were not… peaceful". At that Picard could feel his ire rising. This man had *no* right to question that he would mistreat Beverly, to cause harm to his own son….
*Doesn't he, Jean-Luc?*, a courageous little voice in the depths of his mind piped up. This man didn't know him. He obviously loved Beverly and her son. In his place Picard too would have been leery. He pushed away the logic of his thoughts and condemning himself, went with self-righteous anger instead.
"She is a Starfleet *officer!* One that has been missing for almost *six* years!"
"But that's not why you're here, is it…" His eyes dared Picard to contradict him.
"You see, when I was investigating who you were I learned a great deal about her and her life as well…. I don't think you're here as a representative of Starfleet at all, especially given your resignation…"
"I…" Picard could feel everything potentially unravelling at the last minute in front of him. Agonising desperation clawed at him, panic settled into his lungs and gut. Jentar gave him a small smile.
"That might be the first genuine reaction I've been able to read from you since we first met yesterday… Admiral… Jean–Luc. It had better be Jean-Luc and Jentar if we are to trust each other and if *I* am to trust you with those whom I treasure above all else." Picard nodded, swallowing hard, trying to come down from the anxiety induced high that had his mind racing and his blood pressure soaring.
"What do you say to a drink while we wait for them, hm?"
She clung to Jentar as he kissed her softly on the lips then the forehead. Pulling back, he squatted down to Jack's level, pulling the boy into a fierce hug.
"I'll see you soon, okay? Take care of your mother for me, alright?"
Jack pulled out of the embrace to look at the man solemnly. "I will. I promise. And… you'll take care of Xita...?"
"Of course I will, Jack." Seeing Picard's questioning look he added in an undertone "It's his falcon. We keep them as pets." Not knowing what to say, Picard simply nodded.
"Do you have everything you need for now? We can get anything else later on." Picard asked, eager to be gone. Beverly simply nodded and picked Jack up, placing him on her hip then around her waist.
Picard was thinking he was a bit big for it and that it might be best if he volunteered to hold the boy when he saw that Beverly had turned towards Jentar, leaning into his body as he bent his forehead to hers. Jack was held firmly between them.
Releasing her, Jentar cupped her cheek, grazing his thumb along her lips. He turned his head to Picard, giving him a nod and stepping back, separating himself from them.
Jean-Luc hesitated only a moment before moving into his vacated position. He felt like a monster, ripping this little family apart. With one last look and a nod at Jentar, he tapped his communicator, "Computer, three to beam up."