AN: Here we are, another piece here. As always, suspension of disbelief is always appreciated.
If you read, I hope that you enjoy! If you enjoy, please do let me know. I appreciate it greatly!
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"Beverly—I don't understand," Jean-Luc said. "Are you…alright?"
"No," Beverly said. "No—I'm not alright, Jean-Luc. I am healthy, if that's what you're asking, except for the fact that…that I have been sick about half a dozen times in the past hour and a half. In fact, at this point, I think it's safe to say that I'm just going to feel permanently sick."
"Sick as in…?"
"Vomiting, Jean-Luc!" Beverly barked. "Not even vomiting anymore. There's nothing left to vomit!"
He looked shocked. He might have even backed up a step.
Beverly consciously drew in a breath, held it, and let it out. It helped her to relax a little, so she repeated it. She pressed her hand to her stomach.
"I think—that the baby is becoming…integrated, as Doctor M'Pram phrases it," Beverly said.
"Which means?" Jean-Luc asked. He held a hand up. "I'm sorry. Sincerely. I don't mean to be obtuse. It's only—I was with the captain, and I received a call to come to sickbay without delay. As you can imagine, I was terrified of what I would find, only to get there and have Doctor M'Pram meet me at the sickbay doors and tell me that it's best that I speak to you, first. I come here and…Beverly…I have no idea what's going on. I stepped away for what felt like a half an hour, and now I feel as if I've missed some very vital information."
"I'm sorry," Beverly breathed out. "I'm sorry. I think—I'm just—overwhelmed."
Jean-Luc reached her, then. He'd been keeping his distance and, really, could she blame him? She felt as if she'd descended into a certain sort of madness for a moment. Maybe she and Laris both had.
Laris had fought to keep the calm that she'd promised Beverly she would, for her own good. The monitors sang a different song, but the woman's outward appearance had remained calm. She controlled her body's reactions to the shock and, likely, a whole host of other emotions, at least enough that she remained in minor medical distress, but avoided slipping over to a point where she might crash and need to be revived. Doctor M'Pram administered a sedative to Laris without even saying a word to Beverly and, this time, Beverly thought it was the most merciful thing to do.
Let her sleep for a while, and let her body heal as much as it could.
Beverly needed time, herself, to come to terms with everything, before she was ready to offer the amount of support that she was sure that Laris was going to need to accept everything.
Beverly was coming out of it now—out of shock or some sort of short-term dissociation.
She'd come straight to the quarters that she'd been assigned with Jean-Luc. The nausea she'd been fighting all morning had finally won, and she'd emptied the contents of her stomach before finding that she felt like it would never end. She continued to gag, but nothing came up after a while. All she was successfully doing was making her ribs hurt.
Jean-Luc had arrived when she'd finally dragged herself up, self-prescribed a medication that she knew worked well for morning sickness, and had administered it along with another dose of Cufenol.
It wasn't Jean-Luc's fault that he wasn't a mind-reader.
"Here—sit. Can I—get you something from the replicator?"
He had guided her to the couch. She sat, suddenly feeling a little better. If nothing else, she felt a rush of affection for Jean-Luc.
"Lemon water," she said. "Please. Very…very cold—ice cold, Jean-Luc. Please."
"Don't move," Jean-Luc said, rushing to the replicator to come back with a frosty glass of water. Beverly thanked him and tipped it back. She meant only to sip it, but it suddenly tasted like some kind of nectar of the gods, and she'd drank half the glass before she even realized that's what she was doing.
Jean-Luc sat beside her with one hand on her shoulder and one on her knee, waiting until she was ready to give him more and, hopefully, to help alleviate some of his confusion.
"Better?" Jean-Luc asked, when she looked at him. She laughed quietly and nodded.
"As much as it feels like things can improve right now," she said. "I'm sorry. I really am. I just—I got very, very overwhelmed."
"I would like to help you, if you'll only let me know…how," Jean-Luc said. "I would be happy to slay a dragon for you, Beverly, but you'll have to point me in the right direction."
She laughed, then, appreciating his teasing. He smiled at her and she felt herself relaxing slightly. Doctor M'Pram had been wrong, perhaps. His presence might have made a difference for all of them. After all, Beverly loved him, dearly, and she believed that Laris must, as well.
Beverly drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She caught his hand and held it.
"You've missed a great deal," she said.
"I'm sorry," he said.
She shook her head.
"You didn't mean to, and none of us had any way of knowing that you were leaving for such an important moment in time. I have a lot to tell you, Jean-Luc, and I'm going to say that I absolutely haven't processed it all, myself."
"Do your best to tell me what you can, and I will do my best to meet you halfway," Jean-Luc offered.
She smiled at him.
"Oh—I love you," she said.
He touched her face affectionately. He smoothed her hair back. She'd sweated, and she'd splashed her face with water and brushed her teeth. She had no doubt that her hair had stuck to her skin in multiple locations.
"I love you—immensely and endlessly," he offered.
Beverly smiled at his words and nodded. She drank a bit more of the water.
"I thought the gestational transfer was…I thought I would transfer the baby back to Laris," Beverly said. "I was—just keeping it safe. Taking care of it. Until Laris was ready. Until her body could handle it, but…"
"Go on," Jean-Luc said.
"I feel like I can hardly get it out," Beverly said, shaking her head. "There's so much going on in my mind right now. Laris' body isn't ready for the baby, and even if it were, the transfer can't be undone. The strain that readjusting the blood type would put on the baby would likely kill it."
"What does this mean?" Jean-Luc asked.
Beverly laughed, though she really wasn't feeling any humor.
"It means that—I'm pregnant," she said. "It means that I'm not just keeping this baby safe, Jean-Luc, until Laris can finish out this pregnancy. I'm finishing out this pregnancy."
"You mean—the entire pregnancy?" Jean-Luc asked.
"Every wonderful—terrible, terrifying—minute of it," Beverly said. "And I'm overwhelmed. I mean—I can do it. I will do it—for Laris and the baby…for you. But—at my age? I hadn't planned to be pregnant again, Jean-Luc. I hadn't planned to go through all that. And the baby is half-Romulan! I don't even know what that means, right now, but it's surely going to mean some adjustments."
"There's nothing we can do?" Jean-Luc asked.
"Not without putting the baby at risk," Beverly said. "And—I won't do that. I'm already too attached." She laughed. "Figuratively and literally. That's one of the reasons that…we can't transfer the baby back to Laris."
"If you're at risk, could it be transferred to…to someone else?" Jean-Luc asked. "Maybe without having to change the bloody type…"
"No. It's too dangerous. It's fine," Beverly said. "I'm fine. I'm strong and healthy. I'll—take better care of myself. I'll…it'll be fine."
"I'll take care of you," Jean-Luc said quickly. "Laris…we'll take care of you."
"I'm afraid Laris is going to need some care, herself," Beverly said. She sighed and shook her head. "I want to put in for a medical transport for her. I need to move her immediately. She doesn't need to be here, Jean-Luc."
"She's recovered?"
"No, but she'll recover faster if she can rest—truly rest. She's got a lot of healing to do, but I can't help but feel that she's responding negatively to her environment. Doctor M'Pram doesn't think she's ready to move. She says that—Laris is being difficult, and she's not responding well to treatment because of that."
Jean-Luc laughed.
"Laris can surely be difficult," Jean-Luc said, "if she puts her mind to it."
"I am sure she can be," Beverly agreed. "We all can be, Jean-Luc. You and I certainly can be difficult. I'm not with her constantly. Doctor M'Pram can't be there all the time. I'm not saying that anyone is mistreating her, exactly, but…I just don't think this is the best environment for her."
"You want her transferred to Starfleet Medical?"
"No," Beverly said. "I don't think she'll do well there, either. Romulans are, by nature, very secretive. They don't like to show weakness or vulnerability, except to those that they truly trust and, you know as well as I do, they are very distrustful. I think that Laris needs to go home, Jean-Luc. I think she needs to have her privacy to lick her wounds and heal."
"The Château?"
"That is her home," Beverly said.
"Well—yes," Jean-Luc said. "But…if she hasn't yet healed…"
"Romulans have remarkable healing abilities, just like Vulcans," Beverly said. "Without the repeated—whatever is happening to her, I think she'll heal quickly. Until then, I will monitor her and take care of her. Starfleet will gladly provide transport and whatever portable units I need—especially if I agree to provide some research on this gestational transfer."
"But—Beverly—that's a great deal of pressure on you. It's a great deal of strain. You want to care for Laris, alone? I mean I will help, but…I'm not a doctor."
"I don't just want to, Jean-Luc, I have to," Beverly said. "I need to. Listen to me…some of her numbers are getting better, but…I can't explain this beyond instinct. She's getting worse in other ways. Emotionally, she's not doing well, and things are only getting worse. Jean-Luc, no matter what the body wants, if someone's heart and mind aren't in the healing process…" Beverly broke off. She shook her head. "She's just taken an immense emotional blow, Jean-Luc. Do you know what a nictitating membrane is?"
"A third eyelid," Jean-Luc said.
Beverly nodded.
"It's functional in Vulcanoid species," Beverly said. "It's a protective part of their bodies, but it can indicate a lot about their internal health—things they can hide from the naked eye. It can indicate concussion, internal trauma, infection…and it can indicate that things are simply starting to shut down, Jean-Luc. Laris' nictitating membrane was showing me a great deal about her health today. Doctor M'Pram thinks its owing to everything we already know about."
"Isn't it?" Jean-Luc asked.
"It wasn't behaving this way yesterday," Beverly said. "It was…half-covering her eye, which I expected. Today it's doing what we call shuttering. That's bad, Jean-Luc. I don't like it."
Jean-Luc looked slightly distressed, but Beverly understood that. She felt distressed, and she was certain that Laris did, too. It was only fair, she supposed, that he join them.
"Right—well—of course, we'll do whatever you think is best," Jean-Luc said. "What do you want me to do? What do you need from me?"
"Your blessing, I suppose?" Beverly asked. "I want to take Laris home."
He laughed nervously. Beverly heard it stick in his throat.
"Of course," he said. "You have my blessing. You always have that, but…what can I do?"
"Pack our things," Beverly said. "I'm going to put in a call to Starfleet Medical. As soon as they can get a medical transport here, I think it's best if we take Laris back to the Château—back home."
Jean-Luc nodded his head.
"Fine," he said. "I'll pack. But—Beverly—what will we do once we have her there?"
"We'll figure it out," Beverly said. "For now, I need to go and tell Starfleet Medical what I need. I need to tell them about—my new research. I'll need to let Doctor M'Pram know that I'm transferring Laris' care entirely to myself, and I'll need to get her stabilized and prepared for transport. You need to pack our things and thank the captain for his hospitality. Once they arrive, there won't be time to waste with diplomacy, so take care of that ahead of time."
Jean-Luc smiled at her and nodded.
"Aye, Captain," he teased.
Beverly caught is face in her hands and kissed him. He returned the kiss without hesitation.
"I can do this," Beverly said. "All of it."
"I don't doubt that at all," he said, sincerely.