|
|
Chapter Five:
Alexander meandered throughout the station, unsure where he belonged or what he should be doing. He couldn't face his parents' pain and anger. Not now. He wanted to be punished, needed to be punished. But no matter what his father said or did to him, nothing would obliterate the harm that had come to Shannara. He could not erase the image of her small, lifeless body from his mind. If she didn't recover after the surgery, he expected he would never fully rise from this funk.
He entertained thoughts of running away. But where would he run to? Perhaps he would stowaway on one of the many ships now docked at the station. Just go wherever it took him.
He continued down the corridor at a fast gait, not making eye contact with anyone he passed, even those who acknowledged him with a nod or a "hello." However, when he heard a familiar voice calling out to him, he could not ignore it as easily. He turned around to stare into Rosa's brown eyes.
Her eyes were swollen from tears, and Alex could see a fresh batch clinging to her eyelashes. "I know I shouldn't have come along without permission, but I had to come. I feel every bit as guilty as you do." When he didn't respond, she added, "I don't know what else to say to you." She folded her arms around her chest in complete resignation.
"It's my fault," he said and turned away from her. "I was the one who was suppose to be watching her. I should never have invited you over to my quarters."
Slowly, with a great deal of trepidation, Rosa walked up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Don't shut me out, okay? I think we really need to talk about this."
Her touch sent warm shivers running through his body. He wanted her. Even in his current state, he wanted her so very badly! I can't give into my desires, he thought and pushed her away with a force that belied his sexual tension. "What is there to say?" he snapped. "That could magically bring my sister back to us?"
Brusquely, he walked away from her, not looking back to gauge the level of torment he had inflicted. Eventually, he found a cafeteria and sat down. Although he had ate little during the trip, he still had no appetite. He asked only for a glass of water from the waitress. He would remain there for the time being, he decided, in this bench on the far side of the room where he had no one to talk to.
* * * *
Worf returned to their guest quarters to start unpacking their belongings. After spending hours in the infirmary waiting for any news, Worf decided that maybe some busywork was what he needed. It wasn't that Beverly or one of her assistants didn't come out to talk with them frequently, but none of them seemed to have much to offer. Shannara's vital signs were stabilized as long as they kept her in the stasis tube. There was virtually nothing they could do at the moment to improve her condition.
Worf had finished putting away his clothes and was just moving on to Deanna's when the annunciator chimed. Maybe someone had come to deliver good news after all, he feebly hoped, and walked to the living area.
"Enter," He said gruffly and when the door opened to reveal his mother-in-law, he quickly went to her.
Without words, Lwaxana did something she never before in her life had done. She reached out to Worf and offered him a firm hug. And although he never would have dreamed of doing so before, Worf accepted her comfort graciously. A minute, perhaps two passed before they released each other and walked over to the sofa where they could talk.
"There is no change," She said knowingly. If she couldn't read his thoughts, she would have known it by his expression anyway.
"They do not expect there will be," Worf replied in a barely controlled voice. "They want to perform an experimental brain graft surgery, but they need approval from Starfleet Medical before they can proceed."
"How does she....look?" Lwaxana asked.
"You didn't stop by--you haven't seen her?"
"I couldn't." Lwaxana quieted as grief racked her entire being. "Worf, I don't know how much Deanna told you about my daughter Kestra, her big sister."
"She died by drowning," Worf responded. He suddenly realized just how difficult it would be for Lwaxana to look at her granddaughter and not let it dredge up old memories of her own guilt over Kestra's death.
"I want to remember Shannara as she was two months ago when I last saw her. I don't want to see her the way she is now!"
Deanna entered the quarters just in time to hear her mother's confession. Mother and daughter locked gazes. Worf assumed they were communicating telepathically, for neither spoke aloud. Finally, Deanna drew closer to them and sat down in between them. Lwaxana offered a grasp of comfort and for a long moment, their silence said more than words ever could.
Worf sat still, watching the women and waiting for one of them to speak first.
"I thought I understood before what it was like for you after you lost Kestra," Deanna said. "I thought I could feel what you felt through my empathic abilities." She released her grip on her mother's hand to raise both of her hands to her face. "but that doesn't compare to how raw fresh pain makes me feel!"
Both husband and mother placed their hands on each of Deanna's shoulders. Their comfort offered little solice to Deanna as she fell into retching sobs. They allowed Deanna her tears and several minutes passed before the spell was over and she wiped at her swollen eyes and runny nose.
"The commander of this station has assigned me quarters right next to yours," Lwaxana told them. "I think maybe I should go unpack and allow you two some time alone."
Neither protested, but Worf said, "If you would like to talk more later-"
"I know where to find you," she finished for him. "Right now I need to be alone and sort some things out." She glanced sympathetically at her daughter. "Little one, I wish I could take all your pain and smother it."
For a moment, Deanna grew solemn as she looked up at her mother. "Your pain is as great as mine. I love you mother. Please lets talk in the morning."
With a nod, Lwaxana exited their quarters.
Deanna slid off the sofa and onto the floor. At first Worf did not understand why--until she reached under the sofa and pulled out Shannara's stuffed dog. When had she placed it there? He decided it wasn't really important and joined his wife on the floor.
Deanna petted gently at the toy and soon noticed that the seam was coming loose underneath one of its ears.
"Poor little doggie's seen better days." She said.
"It is in better shape than most of her toys." He reminded her.
"It's her favorite. She won't even take her afternoon nap if she doesn't have it by her side. That's why I brought it. When our little girl wakes up, she'll want him."
"Of course." Worf slid his hand around hers and squeezed gently.
"What if she doesn't remember, Worf? I know the doctors will tell us to be grateful if the surgery works and she's alive, but I can't help thinking about it! What if our little girl looks up at us and she's frightened?"
"I must admit that the same thoughts have plagued my mind. She will be disoriented. That much is certain. It will take time for all of us to readjust. She is young and maybe that will make things easier. Eventually she will forget the trauma--at least consciously."
"Now I'm beginning to ask myself what if this changes her? What if she not only doesn't remember us, but also isn't really our girl anymore? If her brain is altered, will she act the same? Will she be our Shannara?"
"I want to open up her stasis tube," Worf admitted, "and just hug her as always when I return from a hard days work. Now I cannot even comfort her. I want our daughter back as much as you do, but no matter what happens, I will always love her."
Clutching the dog to her chest, Deanna nodded.
Their annunciator sounded and they stared into each others glistening eyes before Worf acknowledged it with an "enter."
Picard and Beverly stepped inside, both offering sympathy and prayers without a word.
"Captain!" Worf exclaimed, rising to his feet.
Deanna remained on the floor clutching the stuffed dog. She acknowledged her former captain with a smile.
"I didn't realize you were in the area." Worf said to Picard.
" Well, I actually," the captain began slowly, "came to see Beverly. I didn't know about Shannara until I arrived here. I'm so sorry."
" Thank your for your concern, sir." Worf felt no shame in letting his tears flow freely. He turned to the doctor. He wanted to ask her for her prognosis, but he was too afraid to hear that his daughter might die. "Have you seen Alexander?"
Deanna favored her husband with a look of surprise, but did not say anything.
"No," Beverly replied. "Not since you first arrived. I've been in the infirmary until just before the captain showed up."
Silence passed between the four, each of them glancing from one to another unsure how to proceed.
"You can bring her back to us, can't you?" Deanna asked in a quivering voice. "Please tell us the surgery will work!"
"I believe there is an excellent chance. Dr. Selar and I spent the entire evening preparing our report to Starfleet Medical. I am confident they will approve the surgery."
" You mean there is still a chance they will refuse to let you operate?" Worf growled.
"I know how difficult this is for you. To lose a child is the most agonizing--" As Beverly choked on a sob, Picard placed his arm around her. "Unfortunately no matter how heart-wrenching the situation, Starfleet Medical has to distance themselves and examine every angle carefully. Their biggest concern--and mine as well--is Shannara's mixed bloodline. I have to thoroughly explore all possible complications so I can prepare for them."
"If she were full blooded--" Deanna began.
"That would offer no guarantee. We can't let ourselves start worrying about impossibilities. We have to concentrate on the real situation and save your daughter."
"I planned to be here for three days," Picard said, "but I will put in a special request to Starfleet to permit me to remain here to help you through this tragedy."
Worf wanted to say something to Picard, to show his appreciation. He stepped closer to the older man and before he could do or say anything, Picard grasped him by the shoulder.
"You're a strong man, Worf," Picard said. "Help your wife; offer her some of your strength." He nodded toward Beverly. "Just remember, we have a miracle worker among us."
"I wish you hadn't referred to me as a miracle worker," Beverly said a moment later out in the corridor, "If I dont save their daughter--and you know we have to face that possibility--they may blame me now more than ever." She quickened her pace.
"Beverly wait!"
She kept going for a minute before turning around to listen to his plea. She tried to look angry, but actually she wanted to forgive him. "This had better be good."
"I only meant to lighten their despair. If I placed you on too high a pedestal, Then I'm sorry."
She mulled over this for a moment.
"You have been a great friend to them for many years," Picard continued. "They realize you will try everything within your power to save their daughter."
"And you're here to remind me of that?" Beverly smiled.
"How about a late dinner? I bet you haven't eaten in hours."
"Why is it you know me so well?"
With a smug smile, he slipped his arm around hers, and they walked to one of the station's restaurants together.
*****
"So how's Martha?" Beverly asked after they sat down to eat their meals. While they had served together aboard the Stargazer, Beverly and Martha Lasalle had become good friends. After sharing the regeneration experience, their bond had only grown stronger.
"Remarkably well. Better than most. She's somewhere on the station, of course. Perhaps you'll take the time to talk with her tomorrow."
"Have you kept tabs on the remainder of the crew? I hear there are some who haven't returned to duty."
"Nearly two hundred of our original crew members have resigned, actually."
"That's sad to hear, but not very surprising."
"It gets a bit worse I'm afraid. You remember Ensign Tuck?"
"Yes she's the young Bajoran who claimed to remember spending time in Heaven."
"Five weeks ago, she committed suicide."
She didn't know how to respond. During her recovery she had had a lot of ups and downs. Some of the downs had been pretty low, but she had never considered ending her life. Why had Tuck's experience been so different?
"Did she have any family?"
"Quite a large one, I believe." He looked away from Beverly to stare at his food. "I'm not sure, really. I just--" A single tear slid down his cheek.
Beverly reached out and grasped the captain's hand. Even Mr. Resilient had a weak point. "We're survivors, Jean-Luc. We have each other to lean on. Together, we will make it."
Nodding, Picard leaned toward her and she accepted his embrace. She allowed him his turn to cry and ironically drew her own inner strength from being able to comfort her dearest friend. What was once true; What was always true--they could count on each other.
