Summary: Next story in the “Generations” series. After being injured on a mission, Picard loses his memory.
Categories: Next Generation Characters: Crusher, Beverly, Crusher, Wesley, Picard, Jean-Luc, Riker, William, Troi, Deanna
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Family, Romance
Chapters: 6 Completed: Yes
Word count: 5884 Read: 9391
Published: 20 Dec 2014 Updated: 30 Dec 2014
1. Chapter 1 by laurah2215
2. Chapter 2 by laurah2215
3. Chapter 3 by laurah2215
4. Chapter 4 by laurah2215
5. Chapter 5 by laurah2215
6. Chapter 6 by laurah2215
The situation on Uzel had been especially precarious, but the representatives of the governing bodies of each faction had insisted on minimal security surrounding the peace negotiations, wanting to engender an atmosphere of trust and goodwill. Picard had been representing the Federation and helping broker peace between the factions as a neutral arbiter. A disgruntled minority party had detonated an explosive device in the building hosting the conference, wanting to distract from the conference and have their issues vocalized. Gratefully, the injuries had been relatively few and minor. From the Enterprise, Picard had only taken Troi with him, insisting on a low profile. Troi had been knocked from her seat, but had walked away with a couple small abrasions. Picard had been dealt a hard blow to the ground, resulting in a fractured wrist (he had attempted to brace himself) and head trauma.
Tricorder in hand, Beverly walks up to the side of the biobed in the emergency ward, appraising her patient comprehensively. She is grateful that her husband had only sustained relatively minor injuries from the attack; however, Jean-Luc’s obvious concussion is worrisome to her. Scanning him with the diagnostic wand, Beverly inhales sharply.
Examining the results on the tricorder, Beverly sighs heavily. She sets the instrument down on the end of the biobed and pads closer to the head of the bed. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she plasters on a small smile. “Jean-Luc?”
When he lies limp on the biobed beneath the blue sheet, Beverly gently massages his shoulder. “Jean-Luc? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?”
Blinking heavily, Picard rouses groggily.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Beverly retracts her hand. “Just take it easy, Jean-Luc. How do you feel?”
Attempting to lift his head, Jean-Luc is dizzy and consumed with a pounding headache. “Ugh…”
“It’s alright,” says Beverly softly, perching on the edge of the biobed next to him. “You’re in Sickbay. You’re alright. You fractured your wrist, but I’ve set it. Are you in pain?”
Staring up at her, Jean-Luc clears his throat. “My…head.”
Frowning, Beverly covers his right hand with hers. “You have a concussion. That’s to be expected. I can give you something for the pain.” Beverly retrieves a hypospray from the pocket of her lab coat and slowly presses it to Jean-Luc’s neck, simultaneously studying his pupils and movement. “Jean-Luc, do you know where you are?”
Watching her settle back on the side of the bed beside him, Jean-Luc takes a moment to consider her question. “A hospital.”
Bracing herself, Beverly runs her tongue over her lips. “Yes. Well, the ship’s hospital. How about your rank and position?”
Furrowing his brows, Picard’s head throbs. “My what?”
Eyes dilated, Beverly becomes concerned. “Jean-Luc, do you know who I am?”
“My doctor?” surmises Picard, a brow raised hopefully.
With wide eyes, Beverly tries to keep her surprise and concern off of her face and out of her tone. “Yes. Yes, I’m your doctor.” Swallowing a lump in her throat, she forces a tiny smile. “Just uh…try to rest. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Rising from the bed, Beverly is trembling. Turning her back, she slowly steps to the end of the corridor, attempting to collect and compose herself.
Concussion. It’s awful. He doesn’t remember a thing. He’s forgotten everything. Me. Our life. The kids. Our granddaughter. The Enterprise. His command. The crew. Will he remember? When will he get his memory back? How bad is the damage? What if he doesn’t fully recover? What if he never remembers me? What if he never remembers the children, our grand baby?
Shaking her head, Beverly sniffles, fighting back the tears stinging her eyes. She hardly notices when she nearly collides with Troi entering Sickbay.
Troi grasps Beverly’s forearms, averting a collision. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Startled, Beverly lifts her head up. “Sorry, Deanna.”
“How’s the captain?” Deanna inquires gently.
Grimacing, Beverly glances over her shoulder at her husband lying on the biobed in the emergency ward. “Gone.”
“What do you mean?” Deanna asks, sliding her hand down Beverly’s arm.
“He’s lost his memory,” relays Beverly stoically.
Smiling encouragingly, Deanna squeezes her hand. “That’s common for head trauma, you know that. We can work with his injury to recover…”
“He doesn’t recognize me, Deanna,” declares Beverly bitterly, willing back the tears pooling in her eyes.
Inhaling sharply, Deanna nods empathetically.
Bowing her head, Beverly twirls her wedding band around her finger with her thumb, the first tears cascading down her cheeks.
Discarding the tricorder on the biobed beside Jean-Luc, Beverly appraises her patient cautiously. “How’s that headache?”
Trying to catch her eyes, Picard watches Beverly’s eyes dart in examining him. “My head’s still….”
“Foggy?” surmises Beverly, perching on the side of his biobed.
Nodding stiffly, Picard notices the dark circles under the doctor’s heavy eyes.
“You have a concussion,” Beverly reminds him. “I’ll give you something else to make you more comfortable.” She retrieves a hypospray from the pocket of her lab coat and presses it to his neck.
“I don’t remember this…explosion,” confesses Picard guilty. “Actually, I can’t recall much right now.”
Slipping the hypo into her pocket, Beverly tries to keep her expression dispassionate. “Memory loss, amnesia, is a common symptom with a concussion.”
“When will I regain my memory?” Picard inquires urgently.
Smiling painfully, Beverly bows her head. “I can’t say conclusively .From the scans I took the damage to your brain was to the part responsible for memory. Hopefully as you heal your memory will return. I can’t guarantee, though. It’s too early.”
Pondering her response, Picard nods. “The…uh…the staff here seem to be avoiding me, speaking in hushed tones. They mustn’t like me very much.”
Smiling, Beverly shakes her head. “Not at all. You’re highly respected, Captain Picard.” Looking over her shoulder, Beverly spies her daughter-in-law, Marta, surveilling them from the corner. “They’re just concerned, and maybe a little apprehensive.”
“What is it I do?” asks Picard tentatively.
Swallowing hard, Beverly can hardly manage to look him in the eyes. She would never have imagined she’d have to tell her husband what his job entails.“You’re the captain of the Enterprise. You command this ship.”
Bobbing his head, Picard absorbs this profound information. “I see. Sounds rather important.”
Stifling her pitiful smile, Beverly bobs her head. “Get some rest. I’ll come check on you in a little while.” Standing off of the bed, Beverly rotates to leave.
“Doctor?” Picard clears his throat.
Turning back around, Beverly glances down at Jean-Luc expectantly. “Yes, Jean-Luc?”
Frowning, Jean-Luc runs his forefinger across his lips. “I have this…feeling I should know you. I’m very sorry. Can you tell me your name?”
Hot tears sting the back of her eyes, but Beverly plasters on a tiny smile. “Beverly.”
“Beverly,” repeats Jean-Luc, a warm smile spreading across his lips.
“Call if you need anything,” stammers Beverly, desperate to duck out and escape. Looking at this man in Jean-Luc’s boy without Jean-Luc’s full personality, emotions and memory is devastating.
“Thank you,” whispers Jean-Luc as Beverly turns on her heels and retreats down the corridor.
“Oh, God!” Marta cries, gripping Beverly’s forearm.
Rolling her eyes, Beverly retracts her arm. “Stop it.”
“Beverly!” Marta sobs, following Beverly into the Chief Medical Officer’s office.
“Not here, Marta,” pleads Beverly, circumnavigating her desk.
“But, he has no memory!” sniffles Marta, circling the corner of Beverly’s desk.
“Look,” begins Beverly in exasperation. “I don’t need this.”
“What can I do?” asks Marta as Beverly sinks into her chair.
“Your shift ended ages ago,” exhales Beverly wearily. “Go home and see Cheryl.”
Frowning, Marta nods her acquiescence.
Sighing, Beverly hangs her head. “I’m sorry, Marta. I shouldn’t be short with you. I’m just…overwhelmed.”
“It’s alright,” Marta assures her. “If it were Wesley I’d be beside myself.”
Grimacing, Beverly decides not to respond to her comment. “Can you pick up my kids and get them dinner?”
“Of course!” replies Marta without a beat.
“I think I’m going to stay here tonight,” advises Beverly. “Can the kids stay with you?”
“Of course,” agrees Marta without hesitation.
“Thanks,” replies Beverly quietly, her head throbbing. “Marta? Please don’t say anything about Jean-Luc. I don’t want them to think their father has no recollection of them.”
Nodding in understanding, Marta laces her hands over her slightly protruding baby-bump. “Absolutely.”
“Thank you, honey,” says Beverly in relief, finally offering a tiny smile.
Sickbay nearly empty save for a patient she is keeping over night for observation and a skeleton staff, Beverly meanders through the corridors to the emergency ward where Jean-Luc is dozing. Automatically she examines him visually, already assessing his condition without a tricorder. As she approaches the bed, Jean-Luc opens his eyes.
“Hello, Jean-Luc,” greets Beverly as positively as she can muster, glancing down at him.
“Hello, Beverly,” greets Jean-Luc with a warm smile, shifting up on his pillow. “May I ask you a few questions?”
Bracing herself, Beverly nods stiffly before perching on the edge of the bed. “Certainly.”
“Your staff don’t appear too forthcoming with information. They don’t want to chat,” Picard tells her pointedly.
“You engender intimidation in some of the crew,” admits Beverly, laughing lightly.
Raising a brow, Picard smiles. “Really? Is that so? Well, why is it that they refer to me as Captain Picard, but you’re the only member of this crew thus far that has referred to me as ‘Jean-Luc’? Do I not…intimidate you?”
Not able to contain her grin, Beverly shakes her head. “No, Captain, you don’t intimidate me.”
“Why is that?”Jean-Luc presses, intrigued by the playful smile tugging in the corner of her lips.
Not sure what to reveal, Beverly laughs. “Well, I think I can go toe-to-toe with you. We’ve known each other a long time. After all this time, I know how to play you.”
Chuckling lightly, Jean-Luc is mesmerized by the doctor’s contagious laughter, her flirtatious smile. He wonders if she is playing with him, or if the blow to the head has affected his ability to read signals. “I reckon you do.”
Smiling, for a moment Beverly had caught a glimpse of Jean-Luc again, not the shell of a man sitting before her. “What did you want to ask?”
Giving his head a shake, Jean-Luc racks his brain. “Yes. I wanted to ask if I could see my personnel file. Get reacquainted with my life.”
Heart beating profusely, Beverly’s lips part. It’s not that she does not want Jean-Luc to know who exactly he is, but she’s gravely concerned about bombarding him with all the details at once and overwhelming him. She doesn’t want to set expectations for him in the event that he cannot regain his memory and live up to his former life. She’s worried that it would be detrimental right now to show him his life and create the expectation that he remember everything and jump back into it immediately. “Perhaps later. You should rest right now.”
“I thought it might help jog my memory…” Picard begins.
Nodding, Beverly cuts him off. “Later. Just relax right now. You need time to recover. We can think about it later.”
Furrowing his brows, Jean-Luc is thoroughly puzzled. “I want to know who I am.”
“You will,” Beverly says ruefully.
Pursing his lips, Jean-Luc exhales deeply. Extending his left arm, he turns his left hand over. “Very well. If you won’t give me my file, will you at least tell me who my wife is?”
Dumbfounded, Beverly is speechless.
Swallowing hard, Beverly stares into Jean-Luc’s expectant expression. “Look, Jean-Luc, right now you’re healing. Your memory may return as your brain begins to repair the damage, but I can’t anticipate when or how that may happen. I don’t want you to feel…overwhelmed right now. You’ve gone through a significant trauma.”
“I want to know who I am,” retorts Jean-Luc simply. “I need to remember.”
Reaching for his hand, Beverly fights the tears stinging the back of her eyes. “Let’s just give it time. Tonight, you need to rest.”
Conceding, Jean-Luc settles his head against the pillow.
“I’ll be back. I have to step out, but I won’t be long. If you need anything, just call and the nurse will help you.” Patting his hand, Beverly stands off of the bed.
Silent, Picard nods stiffly.
Crossing the room, Beverly glances over her shoulder remorsefully, simultaneously heart-broken, defeated and frightened.
“I don’t know what to do, honestly,” sighs Beverly heavily, pacing in the kitchen area of Wesley and Marta’s cabin. “He has questions, but the last thing I want to do is overwhelm and put pressure on him.”
“He’s not the only one with questions,” Wesley points out, gripping the back of one of the chairs at the table. “The boys were worried about him.”
Grimacing, Beverly exhales deeply. “I don’t want to tell them everything. It would be so hurtful.”
“Beverly, you’re trying to take this all on yourself. Relax and let us help,” begs Marta, laying a hand on Beverly’s shoulder. “Talk to Deanna, the other doctors, get a second opinion. You’re not in this alone.”
Nodding, Beverly grimaces. She feels pulled in so many different directions she’s nauseated.
The sound of footfalls draws their attention, where they see Maurice padding across the room in his pyjamas and slippers. Marta had put the twin eight year-old boys and four year-old Claire into her and Wesley’s bed, with the intention that she and Wesley would sleep on a retractable cot in the nursery they were still building for the new baby they are expecting in just over four months.
Turning, Beverly smiles sadly. “What’s wrong, honey?”
Pouting, Maurice scurries over to his mother, his hazel eyes droopy. Beverly wraps her arms around his back, dropping a kiss to his crown.
“What’s wrong with Papa?” demands Maurice hugging Beverly soundly.
Ruffling his light brown locks, Beverly tries to smile optimistically. “We’re just keeping him in Sickbay right now to watch him as a precaution. He should be fine. Not to worry.”
Appraising her skeptically, Maurice draws back. “I want to see him.”
Stroking his cheek with her thumb, Beverly bobs her head. “Soon.”
Pouting, Maurice hangs his head.
“Come on,” Beverly urges, nudging her son forward. “It’s late. You should be sleeping.”
Rotating his neck, Maurice pauses and looks up at Beverly. “Mama, tell Papa that I love him and want him to get better and come home soon.”
Hand on her eight year-old son’s shoulder, it takes all of her strength to will back the tears pooling in her eyes. “Yes, sweetie.”
Surveying Jean-Luc thoroughly with her eyes and her tricorder, Beverly is pleased with the scans. “You look a lot better today.”
“I feel well,” remarks Jean-Luc sitting upright on the biobed. “My headache has disappeared.”
“Good,” replies Beverly passively as Alyssa Ogawa hands her a PADD.
“Here are the scans you ordered, Doctor Picard. Can I get you anything else?” Nurse Ogawa inquires.
Eyes dilated, Beverly manages to shakes her head robotically at Alyssa until the nurse disappears with a somewhat bemused look.
Jean-Luc leans forward on the bed, staring expectantly at Beverly. “Well, that answers one question, Doctor Picard,” deadpans Jean-Luc, lifting his left hand up to display his wedding band to Beverly.
Mouth agape, Beverly stares guiltily at Jean-Luc, mentally contemplating how to react.
Softening, Jean-Luc reaches for Beverly’s hand, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. “Talk to me, Beverly.”
Lowering herself onto the side of the bed beside him, Beverly swallows hard. “I’m so sorry, Jean-Luc. I just don’t want to overwhelm you while you’re recovering. I thought if you suddenly had your entire life story thrown at you, you might feel obligations and expectations that you couldn't fulfill when your memory is impaired.”
Furrowing his brow, Jean-Luc rubs her hand between his fingers. “I want to recall my life. I’m not overwhelmed.”
Pursing her lips, Beverly appraises him tentatively. “I was just worried.”
Letting out a long breath, Jean-Luc nods his understanding. “ So, tell me. We’re married. How long? How did we meet?”
Smiling cheekily, Beverly glances down at their conjoined hands. “That’s a rather long and complicated story. We’ve been married nine years.”
Smirking, Jean-Luc gazes into her eyes. “I’d like to hear the whole story.”
Chuckling softly, Beverly bobs her head. “Alright. I suppose we have all night.”
Inhaling deeply, Jean-Luc smiles contentedly. He briefly looks down at her hand in his. “I reckon I’m a very lucky man. You’re a very a smart woman, and incredibly beautiful. What did I ever do to deserve you?”
Gazing back at him earnestly, Beverly’s heart palpitates furiously and butterflies stir in her belly. Jean-Luc’s personality is returning, and it renews her optimism. “You waited an exceptionally long time.”
Grinning, Jean-Luc leans forward on the bed, cupping the side of her face. “I’ve no doubt you were worth every second.”
Trembling, Beverly lays her other hand on his shoulder, thrilled that her Jean-Luc appears to be resurfacing.
Jean-Luc closes the gap between their lips, kisses her softly, tentatively.
Closing her eyes, Beverly smiles against his lips, massaging his shoulder.
Tracing her jawline, Jean-Luc grins. “Indeed. You’re most definitely worth the wait.”
“Jean-Luc,” whispers Beverly hesitantly. “I think we should slow down…”
“Tell me more,” encourages Jean-Luc, cupping her neck. “Do we have any children?”
Eyes wide, Beverly draws back, tentative. More than anything she wants to embrace him, but she knows he’s not entirely whole, he’s still not entirely the man she knows and loves. “Yes.”
Raising a brow expectantly, Jean-Luc strokes her neck. “Tell me.”
Unable to resist his encouragement and enthusiasm, Beverly smiles. “We have twin eight year-old boys and a four year-old girl. I had a son from my previous marriage, he’s grown now with a family of his own. We have a baby granddaughter and another on the way.”
Beaming, Jean-Luc squeezes Bevery’s hand in his. “Four children. Grandchildren. That’s marvellous. Tell me their names. What are they like?”
Exhaling deeply, Beverly smiles lightly, her pride taking over. “Wesley’s my son, he recently transferred to the Enterprise and he’s an engineer. Marta, his girlfriend, is a nurse. Our granddaughter is Cheryl, and you absolutely dote on her.”
Chuckling lightly, Jean-Luc appreciates the way Beverly’s eyes seem to illuminate as she talks about the children and grandchildren.
“You like being a grandfather because you don’t worry about discipline and behaviour and you just get to spoil your granddaughter,” continues Beverly teasingly.
Laughing, Jean-Luc bobs his head. “What about our children, the little ones?”
Taking a long breath, Beverly nods. “They’re your world. You used to think you’d never have children of your own, and now…now you couldn’t imagine your life without them. Our…relationship was…a very long time in coming.”
Studying her carefully, Jean-Luc tries to infer the backstory from her words, the expression in her eyes.
Smiling painfully, Beverly squeezes his hand. “When we finally got together, you wanted children more than anything. You’re…a fantastic father.”
Watching tears well in her eyes, Jean-Luc brings the hand resting on her neck up to cheek, his thumb grazing under her eye. “Beverly….”
A part of her feels as if she is describing this to a stranger, and the other part feels as if Jean-Luc is right here with her. “You’re hard on the boys, but most of the time they deserve it. Maurice, he’s your carbon copy. He’s a little bugger half the time, always pushing the boundaries. But, he’s crazy smart, and all he wants to do is make you proud.”
Smiling to herself, Beverly sniffles. “Paul, he’s my little guy. He’s so calm and unassuming. He just goes wherever Maurice goes. Claire, she’s our baby. She has you wrapped around her little finger. You command this ship, but you have a hard time telling that little girl ‘no’.”
Laughing, Jean-Luc wraps an arm around Beverly’s back, enveloping her close. “They sound wonderful. I’d like to see them.”
Tilting her neck to look him in the eyes, Beverly smiles remorsefully. “Let’s just take our time. You’ve had a long day, and it’s very late. The kids are sleeping. I suggest you do the same.”
Exhaling in defeat, Jean-Luc drops a kiss to her hair. “Very well. Thank you, Beverly.”
Lingering in his arms for a moment, Beverly savours the familiar feel. After a minute, she releases his hand. “I’d better go, let you get some rest. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
Catching her hand as she stands up, Jean-Luc smiles. “ Beverly, I may not recall everything, but I…know how you….feel, somehow. I have to remember. You can help me, I know you can. I never want to forget.”
Breath catching in her throat, Beverly squeezes his hand in affirmation. “I won’t let you forget. We’ll remember…together.”
Opening the door to her cabin, Beverly mentally braces herself, silently wondering what state she would find her husband in. As she peers into the living area, she finds Jean-Luc on the sofa, dozens of holophotos scattered on the table. Inhaling sharply, she tentatively crosses the room.
Beverly had emerged from the operating room, washed up and went into the emergency ward to check on Jean-Luc to discover he was missing. When she had inquired, she was advised he had been checked out. A nurse told her that Captain Picard had said that Doctor Picard had released him as he had no physical ailments necessitating his further stay in Sickbay. Fuming, Beverly had demanded his whereabouts from the computer, which had promptly advised her that Captain Picards was in his quarters. With a heavy sigh, Beverly had nodded, knowing she should have realized Jean-Luc would have escaped to their cabin. He had been desperate to learn of his life, their life together, to regain his memory. Forcing herself not to become overly angry or emotional,she had headed to their cabin to intervene, to hopefully explain and provide context.
“Jean-Luc? ” Beverly pauses next to the table.
Looking up at her, Jean-Luc’s cheeks are stained with tear tracks. “My God, Beverly…”
Beverly dashes to the sofa, jumping onto the cushion beside him. “I should have been here…”
Lips curling into a watery smile, Jean-Luc sets down the photo in his hand onto the table and takes her hand into both of his hands. “I…I’m sorry. I…I had to see for myself. I had to see our life.”
Shaking her head, Beverly’s eyes well with tears. “You shouldn’t have left, Jean-Luc. I should have been here with you.”
“I’m sorry,” sputters Jean-Luc, sniffling. “No, I’m not sorry. I needed this.” Trembling, Jean-Luc’s eyes dart over to the corridor. “I’m sorry if I invaded your personal space, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I went into their rooms. It seems I want the boys to be officers when they grow up.”
Sniffling, Beverly half-laughs. “They want to be officers. They want to be Captain of the Enterprise, just like their father. They’re your little cadets.”
“Yes, I know,” whispers Jean-Luc solemnly, his tears subsiding. “I know.”
Reaching up, Beverly swipes his cheek, erasing the trail of moisture left behind.
“Claire’s a little angel, such a girl,” remarks Jean-Luc, removing Beverly’s hand and bringing it to his lips to pepper kisses along her knuckles.
“Yes,” whispers Beverly breathily.
“I remember,” declares Jean-Luc solemnly, his gaze fixated on hers. “I know. I feel it. It’s coming back to me now.”
Lips trembling, hot tears cascade down Beverly’s cheeks. “Jean-Luc…”
Cupping her cheek, Jean-Luc captures her lips in a slow, deep and, thanks to their combined tears, wet kiss.
Moaning, Beverly grasps his shoulder, so many emotions grappling for dominance within her. Sobbing, she lays her forehead against his. “Oh, Jean-Luc…”
“It’s alright,” Jean-Luc assures her, lacing their fingers. “I’m here now. I’m back.”
Blubbering, Beverly closes her eyes, simultaneously relieved, elated and cautious. “I just didn’t want you to feel pressured to…”
“I’m fine,” states Jean-Luc reassuringly, pecking her lips tenderly. “It will take time, but I’ll get better. I’m just sorry. Sorry for putting you all through this. I can’t believe I ever forgot. I can’t let it happen again. I’ll never forget.”
Bringing her hand up, Beverly caresses his cheek, drying the moisture from their combined tears. She kisses him back, almost dizzy.
Breaking off, Jean-Luc takes a long breath. “I need to see the children.”
Eyes dilated, Beverly draws back. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Please, Beverly,” begs Jean-Luc urgently.
Sighing, Beverly is torn, wanting to protect both Jean-Luc and the children from feeling hurt and disappointment,
“Beverly,” Jean-Luc intones. “It’s imperative. It can only help. I promise it will help them.”
Contemplating, Beverly recollects her son, Maurice, last night, awake worried about his father’s injuries, oblivious to the fact that his father had been suffering from amnesia and had no idea that Maurice even existed. “Alright. I’ll bring Wesley and Marta around to visit. You can spend time with them and Cheryl. I don’t want you to take on too much too soon.”
Nodding, Jean-Luc squeezes her hand. “Thank you. Then you’ll bring the little ones?”
Inhaling, Beverly purses her lips. “We’ll see. Have some patience.”
Leaning in, Jean-Luc drops a gentle kiss to her lips. “Thank you.”
Leaning back, Beverly appraises him thoroughly. “I’ve no reason to keep you in Sickbay, so you can stay here. I have to get back to work, so please stay here until I get back home.”
“When can I return to duty?” inquires Jean-Luc optimistically.
Raising a brow, Beverly resist the urge to smirk. “Jean-Luc, you’re not fit to return to your post. Please stay here. You can…make yourself at home.” Grinning, she squeezes his hand lightly before rising off of the sofa. “I’m going to ask Counselor Troi to drop in.”
Frowning, Jean-Luc follows her toward the cabin door. “Very well.”
Beverly turns on her heels and reaches for his shoulders, drawing him close. “Welcome home.”
Beaming, Jean-Luc envelopes his arms around her waist, kissing her slowly. “It’s good to be back.”
“He looks so much better,” remarks Marta, standing in the kitchen with Beverly as they replicate drinks.
Glancing over her shoulder as she programs the replicator, Beverly smiles at the sight of her husband sitting on the sofa, their eight-month old granddaughter seated in his lap. “Yeah. Much better.”
“You said Deanna has the kids?” Marta confirms, picking up the pot of tea from the counter.
“Yeah,” nods Beverly in confirmation, retrieving her mug of coffee from the replicator. “I asked her to pick them up and get them dinner. I didn’t want to overwhelm Jean-Luc or the kids right now. I figured I’d see how he does with you, Wes and Cheryl first.”
“He’s getting on quite well,” comments Marta, leading them over to the living area.
Beverly sets her coffee and two empty mugs on the table in front of the sofa. “Dear, I’ve got your tea. Why don’t you give Cheryl back to Marta?”
Marta pours the tea from the pot into the two mugs as Jean-Luc shifts the infant in his lap.
“Well, right now Cheryl and Papa are engaged in a very intense game of Peek-a-Boo. Aren’t we, cherie?” Grinning, Jean-Luc pulls the baby’s receiving blanket up over her eyes, playfully eliciting giggles from the eight month-old.
Smiling warmly, Beverly resumes her seat next to Jean-Luc, laying a hand on his knee.
“I can take her. She’s probably due for a diaper change now anyway,” Wes offers, standing out of the arm chair.
Jean-Luc stands up, lifting Cheryl into Wesley’s arms. “Alright. Papa does not change dirty nappies. I can recall that quite vividly.”
Laughing, Marta takes Wesley’s vacated seat in the arm chair.
Chuckling, Beverly hands Jean-Luc a mug of tea after he resumes his seat, grateful his sense of humour has returned and he has a positive outlook on the situation.
“Thank you,” responds Jean-Luc graciously. “ You said Deanna has the children?”
Studying him cautiously, Beverly nods. “Yes.”
“Bring them home,” commands Jean-Luc simply.
Gazing transfixed into her husband’s eyes, Beverly nods. “ Alright.” She couldn’t deny him. All he wants is to see his children, to be reconnected. And, honestly, he had seemed perfectly at ease with Wes, Marta and the baby. She desperately wants to bring the family back together. “Let me talk to Deanna.”
“We’ll go,” offers Marta, eyes darting back and forth between Beverly and Jean-Luc as Wesley changes the baby on the living room floor.
“No, there’s no rush,” shrugs Jean-Luc. “Sit and have your tea. Your company is welcomed.”
Patting his knee, Beverly stands up. “Okay, I’ll be back shortly.”
Note: Okay, just a really quick wrap up. Thanks for sticking with me! Hope you enjoyed. Also, many of you are asking for our couple to have another baby. It’s something I could consider in another story for this Generations series. Is there another series I’ve done you’d like me to revisit (series, prequels, sequels)? Any episode or film sequels you’d like to read? Open to new ideas. Thanks for your input. Happy New Year!
“Papa, can we work on my science project? You promised you’d help me this week. Remember?” Paul asks, sliding up to Jean-Luc on the sofa.
Smiling faintly at his twin eight year-old, Jean-Luc bobs his head. “Yes, of course I remember.”
“No!” protests Maurice, flopping onto the sofa on the other side of Jean-Luc. “I want to play chess. We haven’t played all week.”
Whipping his head around to address Maurice, Jean-Luc’s face falls, torn between the two boys. He and Beverly had decided not to reveal to the children that he suffered any sort of amnesia, not wanting to alarm the children unnecessarily. However, Beverly and Troi had prepared the children that their father had suffered a concussion and would take some time to fully recovery. In the interim, the children were to be patient, cautious and respectful. The three kids had greatly missed their father and are eager to spend time, even concerned about his welfare after the explosion. Maurice is especially worried, anxious to have his father back to normal.
Rolling her eyes, Beverly walks up to the sofa, hands on her hips. “I told you not to pester your father. He’s just got out of Sickbay and he has a concussion. Give him some space.”
Pouting, Maurice folds his arms across his chest. “I missed Papa.”
“I know, sweetie,” agrees Beverly empathetically. “But, there’s lots of time later. Now, both of you go sit down at the table and have your snack. It’s almost bedtime.”
Frowning, Jean-Luc gazes down at the dozing redhead in his arms, his four year-old utterly exhausted had fallen asleep snuggled in his lap. “It’s past bedtime.”
“Go on,” urges Beverly to her sons, gesturing to the kitchen table.
Reluctantly, the boys leave their father’s side and walk over to the table.
Inhaling deeply, Beverly saunters over to Jean-Luc, looking down at her daughter nestled in her husband’s arms. “Can you carry her to bed?”
Shifting the girl in his arms onto his shoulder, Jean-Luc stands off of the sofa. He follows Beverly into Claire’s room, painted pink, and tucks her into the girl’s small bed.
Drawing the blankets up to her chest, Jean-Luc smiles warmly. “She fell asleep without a story. She always insists I read her a story.”
Laying a hand on his shoulder, Beverly looks at Jean-Luc in astonishment. “You’re really home, aren’t you?”
Straightening, Jean-Luc snakes an arm around Beverly’s waist, pulling her flush against him. “Let’s hurry to put the boys to bed. I think I could benefit from some alone time with you in our bedroom. I reckon that would really help jog my memory.”
Chuckling softly, Beverly massages his shoulder. “Trying to play Doctor, my Captain?”
Smirking playfully, Jean-Luc grips her hip. “Only in the interest of speeding my recovery, Doctor Picard.”
Pecking his lips, Beverly’s eyes dance with mirth. “That’s a prescription I can take. I’ll get the boys to wash up for bed. Do you feel up to reading a story and tucking them in?”
Bobbing his head, Jean-Luc drops a tender kiss to her lips.
Laying between the pillows on their bed, Beverly aimlessly toys with Jean-Luc’s ear as he lays half over and half beside her, lavishing her shoulder with kisses. Having taken their time to intimately reconnect after Jean-Luc’s accident, Beverly is utterly content.
Eyes closed, Beverly smiles in amusement. “You’re quite…thorough…attentive.”
Smiling into her collarbone, Jean-Luc trails a hand down the length of her side. “Just….reminiscing.”
As his hand comes back up to caress the curvature of her breast, Beverly opens her eyes and glances down at him with a knowing grin. “That’s what you call it?”
“Hhmmm…” replies Jean-Luc, sliding his tongue along her throat. “Just recalling…every inch of you.”
Breath caught in her throat, Beverly reaches for his face, but he has begun dipping lower, trailing a path of wet, lazy kisses down her chest and she doesn’t want to stop him.
Slipping a hand under her waist to raise her, Jean-Luc gazes up at her heatedly. “I could never forget. You’re emblazoned into my soul.”
Eyes darkened, Beverly grips his shoulders fervently. “I love you. I’d love you unconditionally.”
Shifting his weight onto his hands, Jean-Luc slides up to capture her lips in a long, passionate kiss. “I love you. I need you.”
Snaking her arms around his back, Beverly pulls him flush against her, wanting to feel his need and demonstrate her own.
There had been a time when she had feared she had lost him, and had wondered if the man she loves would ever reappear in Jean-Luc’s form. Finally, they are both confident that he will recover and resume the life cherishes, with the ones he cherishes most.
* * *
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