Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 20 Jan 2004 19:10:48 -0800 In: alt.startrek.creative From: louiseell@aol.com (louise ellis) Title: "Still There" Author: Louise Ellis Series: TNG Rating: PG Code: P/C Part: 22/? Archive: yes Summary: An alternate universe story that picks up ten years after Disclaimer: no infringement meant, and comments welcomed (thanks for all the comments so far!). "Still There" (22/?) By: Louise Ellis Jean-Luc nodded, then moved to follow Beverly. Hesitating as he left the barn, he caught sight of her slender silhouette moving toward a path that led to what Kathryn had indicated was a small pond a short distance away, through some sort of grain field. Following her, he finally caught up to her as she stepped out onto a small dock type platform extending over the water. Stopping at the foot of the path, he watched as she stared out over the water, arms wrapped around her waist. Finally, he stepped forward, waiting until she turned her head slightly, indicating she was aware of him, to move forward, stopping behind her. "Cherie?" Beverly shook her head, but leaned back slightly, accepting his strength and closing her eyes as he slid his arms over hers, trying to warm her chilled hands. After some time she finally spoke. "I robbed her of her childhood." "You…" this was not what he'd expected her to say. "Beverly, you did no such thing. You survived, you both did." "I should have tried to escape sooner, right after he'd caught me." She took a deep breath. "She had no childhood, she had no toys…dolls, pets…things that children are supposed to have. She should have been happy and carefree, not locked up and forced to see the things she saw." "She had love. She had a mother who loves her, protected her, and impressed her with ideals of caring and compassion," he pressed a kiss against the side of her head. "Kept her safe." "But the things she saw." Beverly shuddered. "Jean-Luc, no child should have to learn how to utilize an autosuture or plaser to heal her mother's injuries. No child should be forced to live in fear of discovery, to worry about survival in a hostile environment. She should have been raised somewhere that she could have had puppies and dolls, and light and laughter." "Beverly." Concerned at this sudden turn of her thoughts, he moved around her to look into her anguished face. "Oh, Beverly…" Lifting a hand to cup her cheek, he used his thumb to try to wipe away some of the tears streaming down her face. "Ma belle cherie…" She shook her head slowly, turning away from him. "What kind of mother was I…am I?" "Beverly, look at me." Gripping her shoulders, he held her so he could look into her face. "Felisa is amazing. Who she is astounds me, yes, she has been through things that no child should even have had to survive. Yes, she was forced to learn skills from you that children don't normally learn. But cherie, she is the best of us all. She is strong, courageous…today, in her interviews…Beverly love, you would have been amazed. She refused to be intimidated, she was clear, concise, took her time, and refused to let anyone forget she was still a child, although one who'd been through some horrible experiences." "I knew she'd do well." She blinked and shook her head slowly. "Despite everything…" "Oh Bevy, love…" Pulling her against him slowly, he embraced her as she sobbed, clinging to him. Finally, the shaking in her body slowed and he felt her rest against him, fingers twisted in his shirt. "Here," carefully, he eased her down so they were seated on the planks of the platform, Beverly ending in his lap, still holding on to him. "Any better?" "A little," Beverly sighed softly, the sound almost lost in the slight breeze. "Tell me." Stroking her back, he nuzzled her cheek. "Now." She remained silent for another moment before taking a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't know. I just saw her sitting there, playing with the dogs, so happy…carefree. So…normal. And all of a sudden I realized, all she'd missed out on, how she hadn't had…and what she'd had to do, and survive…and it shouldn't have been like that. She should have been happy and carefree…had everything I, we could have ever wanted to give her. And she didn't. We…" she choked back a sob. "No, we didn't. But, we will." He tilted her chin up with a finger so he could see her face. "As you loved her and protected her through her first ten years, you gave her life, hope of a better future, compassion for others. We will give her love, we will give her security. We will be there for her, to take care of each other. We cannot give back the years lost, and we cannot undo what has been done," he smiled. "And I don't know if I would, given the results." "I didn't want…" Her eyes fluttered shut as he kissed her lightly. "I wished for a daughter, I wanted her…I never wanted my child, any child to live through what I did. Ever again. Or anything even like it." "I know." Jean-Luc murmured, remembering first learning of the disaster through the media when he was young, then in more recent years, of her heartbreaking stories of surviving what was left of Arvedda, stories shared in bed after she'd woken, shaking and in tears from nightmares, or over his Aunt Adele's steamed milk on the nights her insomnia kept her up, wandering aimlessly until he convinced her to sit and talk. "I know cherie." "And I don't know how to fix it." She choked out. "I don't know how to give it back to her, and I want to. I don't want her to worry about anything, we got out…but, the look on her face tonight, she was a child, so happy…I haven't seen her…" She buried her face into his chest again, her sobs breaking his heart as he held her, rocking her back and forth as best he could. He'd spoken with both Deanna and Kate Pulaski about Beverly, and her control on her emotions, and what would happen when she finally broke. She'd made it through her recovery and interviews, and even this afternoon without breaking. Until now. When her sobs finally abated for a second time, he tightened his grip on her. "Beverly?" "Sorry." Eyes closed she trembled against him. "Don't know…sorry." "Don't be." Jean-Luc murmured. "Tell me about this afternoon." Beverly took another deep breath before answering, eyes still closed as she rested against him. "I wanted to kill him. I didn't know I did, until I got in there and saw him. I wanted him to come after me so I could kill him. I wanted to tear him apart for making us live in terror, for keeping us apart from each other. For hurting me, for making me do what I did so I could have the few things he allowed us. For making Felisa have to take care of me because there was no one else to take care of the injuries I couldn't after he was tired of playing with me. For humiliating me and putting me on display as his pet human when it pleased him to toy with me. Giving me no option but to obey for what little he allowed us. For making me feel like I wasn't…I wasn't anything. I wanted to do everything I'd imagined doing to him for the past ten years." "And you didn't." Pulling out the clip that she'd used to pull it back with, he stroked her hair so it fell around her shoulders. "You made him be the one to loose control. You were the one who was in charge of the situation, force screen or no." "I want him dead." She lifted tormented eyes to his. "I want him to die, to suffer, I want him to…but I'm not supposed to, I'm a healer…" "You're human. You have a heart, and feelings." He gently pushed her hair back behind her ear. "And emotions. He couldn't rid you of those, which was one of your greatest victories." "The lights." She finally whispered, gazing into his eyes. "He knew I knew about you and the lights. He would taunt me by threatening to make me look at a bar of lights. Sometimes when I was summoned, he would have the bar of lights behind his desk. Sometimes lit, sometimes not. It would amuse him to see my reaction to them. I tried to not show any, but he would summon me whenever it pleased him, and sometimes I couldn't hide it." He swore under his breath, tightening his arms around her again. "I would have him dead as well." "I know." Beverly nodded slowly. "I understand so much more now." They sat there holding each other for some time until Jean-Luc lifted his head and kissed her gently, one hand running up to tangle in her hair as her hand slid up and around his neck. As the kiss deepened, they shifted so Beverly was lying on her back, Jean-Luc braced over her. Finally breaking apart for air, they stared at each other silently for a long moment, then Jean-Luc slowly drew down the fastener of her jumpsuit as Beverly continued to gaze at him, her eyes soft in the moonlight. When he slid his hand into the jumpsuit, easing it to the side, she shifted slightly, allowing him to slide it off one shoulder, then the other, before he froze staring down at her exposed skin. "Beverly?" Appalled, he stared down at her torso, areas of which were mottled with bruises. "What the hell were you doing this afternoon." "Working out things." She attempted a slight smile. "Worf has programs on file here." "You ran one of Worf's training programs?" He stared at her, then lifted one of her arms, looking at it closely in the moonlight. "You've fresh skin here." His eyes lifted to hers. "Kate?" Beverly sighed. "I had some scratches on my arms. Kathryn came in before I was done and was watching me. She took me over to see Kate at Medical, I just didn't think about bruises under my clothes." "You're all right?" He lifted an eyebrow at her. "It helped." Reaching up, she touched his cheek. "It's just been a really long few days." "A really long, emotional few days." He corrected gently, then bent and kissed one of the bruises on her ribs before looking back up at her. "Do you mind?" "Hmm?" Beverly ran a hand over his head. "It's not Paris, but it's right." "Indeed it is." He chuckled, then bent back over her as she arched up against him with a soft cry. Some time later, they wandered back up the path to the house, arms around each other's waists, Beverly's head resting on Jean-Luc's shoulder. As they climbed the steps to the porch, Kathryn, carrying a tray, opened the door and came outside, followed by Phoebe, Will, and Deanna. With a smile, she nodded with her head. "We were having some coffee." "Felisa?" Beverly glanced at Deanna. "In bed." She smiled at Beverly, "tired out from excitement. And since it's going to be another early morning…" "I'm just going to go look in on her," Beverly turned toward Jean-Luc and brushed a kiss across his cheek. "Be right back." "Do you want me to…" He stopped as she rested a finger on his lips. "No," she smiled and let her eyes slide to meet Deanna's concerned gaze. "De, would you come up with me?" When Deanna nodded, Beverly looked back at Jean-Luc. "We'll be back in a minute. You know how I like my coffee." (end part 22) -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Stories Only Forwarding In the Pattern Buffer at: http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/ Yahoo! Groups Links To visit your group on the web, go to:http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCL/ To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:ASCL-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service. From ???@??? 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