A/N: Thank you to Alison for the story prompt! Beverly and Jack have such a sweet mother/son dynamic that while I love all their scenes together, they always leave me wishing there were more...

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He'd shoved his phaser into the corner of a locked closet, once his hands had stopped shaking sufficiently to retrieve it from the floor. Whether that would be enough to stop him from wielding it in some kind of hallucinogenic blackout state like he'd just experienced, Jack Crusher didn't know. But he also didn't know what else to do. In a fugue he'd imagined himself hunting down and executing the entire bridge crew of Titan in cold blood. As he fought for control of his own mind he was desperate to believe that, as with the red door and the storms in his waking nightmares, it wasn't real—because he wasn't a murderer, damn it, he'd never knowingly killed a soul in his life—but when he finally snapped out of it he was somehow standing upright in the middle of his quarters, the very real weapon in his hand.

And the voice of the shadow that lurked in the dark recesses of his mind—the voice whispering I know who you are and Open the door and Come home, Jack, all the more insistently every time he slept—the voice had changed.

The voice was his mother's.

"Jack?"

His head shot up and he blinked a few times, distressed to realize he must have drifted off on the couch again, despite every effort to the contrary. He waited a moment to confirm the absence of any red vines encasing his mother as she walked into the guest quarters—a good sign he was actually awake now, though it was becoming hard to tell—before standing to accept a hug from her and kiss her cheek. At least she was doing better.

"Did you get some sleep?" Beverly Crusher stepped back, running a hand over her son's shoulder as she gave him a critical once-over. Rather than rested, Jack looked like he'd been stuck in a Tyken's rift for too long without REM sleep.

He shrugged noncommittally and flashed a grin. "You should worry less about me, you know."

"Hmm." She crossed to the wall panel to dim the lights to half illumination for him, before returning to state her case. "To the contrary, you've only had people trying to kidnap or kill you for months now. I don't think you're getting much rest. And I am your mother. Worrying is—"

"In the job description, yeah." Jack sighed. There was nothing he could confide that wouldn't upset her, though, and he wasn't about to do that any more than he already had done. "In any event, Mother…we need to leave."

Beverly raised an eyebrow, deciding not to press at the moment on whatever else was clearly bothering him. "Leave?"

"Leave Titan. Get a new ship, get back out there on the lawless frontier helping people who need us." Jack rubbed his hands together briskly, warming to his theme. "D'you think Shaw would mind if we borrowed one of his shuttles? Mind, I realize one was already destroyed by Vadic, but that wasn't really down to us, exactly, and on the bright side, this way he'd be rid of us. Or me, at least. He's rather keen on you."

She held up a hand to stop the stream of consciousness. "Jack. We are still dead in space, and unfortunately I doubt a new ship is in the cards for us. Not for a while yet."

"But we're still putting innocent people at risk by being here. And we really can't trust Starfleet." Nor did he trust himself right now, but that aside—did his mother really not see the urgency of hastening their departure? "I mean, Seven or Riker, sure. But with all that's happened—with the Changeling—it only proves we can't stay. We need to leave."

Beverly frowned. The revelation of it being Changelings pursuing them had been bothering her a great deal, but she hadn't put her finger on exactly why yet. Why were they working with a predator like Vadic? Why continue to target Jack, if this was all really somehow about Jean-Luc as she had believed? And how had one of them infiltrated Titan so quickly after she and Jack came on board?

Or, perhaps more frightening: had it been before?

What were they dealing with?

She shook off a sudden chill. "I don't disagree," she told him, trying to refocus and analyze their situation as pragmatically as she could. "But you have been hunted everywhere we've gone, not only here. Where are we going to go?"

"Anywhere so we're not just sitting around waiting for the proverbial other warbird to decloak," Jack said, waving one arm expansively. On the move, they could at least go back to doing some good for others, right? They'd always been skilled at staying off the sensor grid and avoiding entanglements. Well—with legitimate law enforcement, anyway, if not with the sundry criminal gangs he'd helpfully unburdened of contraband or wrongfully-hoarded medical supplies along the way. But those were just a nuisance. "Hey. Maybe with Vadic gone, whatever bounty was out on me is quashed. Still, you and I'll manage regardless. We always have."

Beverly's expression softened with affection and she reached up to brush her fingers through her son's tousled, dark brown hair. "You're very optimistic for someone who just nearly died."

"Nearly, yeah, but not." He gave her his best charming, innocent look.

She laughed in spite of herself. "Ha. Optimistic, or cocky as hell," she amended, and then she thought, just like Jean-Luc, and her breath caught in her throat. There was so much of Jean-Luc in Jack. Now that she was seeing the two of them together for the first time, it was even more striking, and stirring emotions at depths she could barely fathom—the more so because it had almost ended before it could really begin.

She might try to brush it off, but in those terrible timeless seconds when the life was ebbing out of him like water through a sieve, when his breathing and his heartbeat had stopped, she had felt the absolute blackness of death descending upon her, too, as she fought to bring him back with a desperation she'd never known with any other patient in her life.

Any other patient, except Jean-Luc.

Facing enemies on a scale she hadn't since before Jack was born, when all she'd ever done from the beginning was try to safeguard him from them, her faith was being badly shaken. Had she done the right thing, when they'd only ended up trapped here all the same? If Jack had died on that biobed, she would have been left standing there beside Jean-Luc with the knowledge she had deprived him of the chance to know their child, and deprived herself and him of any chance they might have had for their own relationship, for nothing—because in the end she had failed to protect Jack after all.

She forced aside her doubts, crossing her arms over her chest as if to physically buttress her composure, and moved to sit down. "Jack, I think we both know this isn't over, and it's bigger than we can handle ourselves," she said finally. "I don't think we should try to go back out on our own. Not yet."

Jack saw the clouds gathering and he dropped to the couch beside her, feeling gloomier himself as his brief burst of energy faded. "We still aren't any better off here," he said, picking at the sleeves of his charcoal-gray shirt. "And if we do make it back, with the record I've run up, it's not as though I'll be going off to live free on Earth. A nice penal colony, maybe."

"Absolutely not." Beverly straightened up immediately, fire flaring in her eyes. "You're not going to prison, Jack. All our mission work has been morally justified, and most of it has been outside the Federation's jurisdiction anyway. They won't turn us over to non-aligned worlds that don't even have functioning governments."

"Are you certain? Because I'm not."

"Your father—"

"Is the one who wanted me in the brig to start with."

"Before he knew you," she protested.

Jack shook his head, blue eyes resigned. Absent some other way to escape, the reality of their situation seemed clear enough to him. "Look, whether he still regrets it or not, Picard came out here to rescue you, Mother. Which, good on him, because I admit I didn't believe he actually would. Just because he and I're getting on a bit better, though, doesn't mean he'd be inclined to stick his neck out to spring me out of Federation custody."

His mother looked as though she wanted to object again, but she said nothing, so he continued. "And if he did try, I seriously question whether he could have any sway. Even on Binar, I didn't steal a starship. He did. So he's not likely in good graces with Starfleet either."

Jack was right, Beverly realized to her chagrin. Depending on how hard Starfleet decided to throw the book at them, Picard and Riker could be facing real trouble of their own, including court-martial. She hadn't meant for any of that to happen, but it was hard not to feel responsible all the same. Still… "I've seen him disobey orders and follow his conscience many times in the past," she said slowly, "and get away with it because he was doing the right thing."

But the right thing in this case was only saving his mother, Jack thought, and he had little confidence Starfleet would agree that she mattered enough by herself to justify Picard's unorthodox means; 'the needs of the one' was exactly opposed to their hidebound, bureaucratic mindset. He figured his mother knew this, too, which was why the note of uncertainty had crept into her voice. "It did end up well for you, and of course I'm relieved for it. For me, or for him? Remains to be seen." He lapsed into glum silence.

Beverly squeezed her son's hand, growing concerned again at how tired he looked; all of this stress was taking an ugly toll on him. They needed answers and a plan soon, for both their sakes.

Already forming an idea on where best to start, she tapped the commbadge on her trim navy vest. "Crusher to Picard. Jean-Luc, do you have a minute?"

Jack watched his mother's face. She was nothing but professional and matter-of-fact in her tone, but her eyes always changed when she talked to or about his father. He wondered if anyone else would have been able to see it.

Picard replied immediately. "Beverly. Yes—Will and I are in the observation lounge if you'd like to join us here."

"We'll be there shortly. Crusher out." She touched the badge again and raised her eyebrows at Jack, who mutely nodded his agreement. "All right. We'll figure this out together."

A few minutes later, they were almost to the observation lounge doors when a voice from behind stopped them. "Ah! Beverly, there you are." No longer walking with the assistance of a cane, Liam Shaw seemed to have a bounce in his step as he jaunted down the corridor towards them.

Beverly folded her arms and smiled, smoothly covering her flash of disappointment that they were about to be waylaid. "Captain, I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

Jack thought she sounded remarkably gracious, given Shaw's general abrasiveness towards them, not to mention animus towards Picard in particular. Then again, the situation was admittedly complicated all around—and Shaw did seem to respect his mother quite a bit, which Jack weighed as a point in his favor.

"Thank you. Indeed I am, which is why I'm here to reclaim my ship from your erstwhile colleagues, before their fate is decided along with their co-conspirator's—oh, and here she comes now." Shaw waved cheerfully at his first officer as she joined them from the other direction.

"Doctor Crusher. Jack," Seven greeted them, sparing only a cool nod of acknowledgement for Shaw.

"Hello, Seven." Beverly sent an apologetic look her way before addressing Shaw again, knowing she couldn't do anything to stop the ax apparently about to fall on the others, but still hoping to placate somewhat. "Jack and I are very grateful for everything you've done, and we'll be out of your hair as soon as possible."

Pleased, Shaw bowed his head gallantly at her. "You are most welcome, Doctor. The kid's old man, not so much." He eyed Jack thoughtfully. "But both of you have been pretty helpful around here, actually, when you've not been putting my ship in mortal danger. So, you know, pros and cons."

"Sir," Jack murmured, wondering what else he could possibly be expected to say to that. Out of Shaw's line of sight, though, Seven smiled slightly at him, mouthing high praise. He kept his eyes downcast to hide his smile in reply. God knew, little about their situation was amusing, but he was glad Seven was keeping at least some gallows humor about it—and it was nice to know the unique kinship he felt with the former Fenris Ranger seemed to be reciprocated.

"Now." Shaw clapped his hands together once. "Please pardon our interruption of your lovely little family gathering—I'm sure we won't be long. Hansen, you're with me," he called, whistling as he turned away. Casting one stoic look back at them, Seven squared her shoulders before following.

Jack waited until the doors had closed behind the two officers, then looked up at his mother bleakly. "Well. That was brilliant. What now?"

Beverly sighed, giving the only answer she could. "Wait…and try not to worry."