Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Three

I closed my eyes, so I didn't have to see him fall. Part of me wanted to join him, and I felt myself start to shake; but as I turned back towards the hole I was grabbed from behind, and then Jean-Luc pulled backwards. I stood for a moment, with his arms wrapped around me, and then my legs gave out and I slid downwards, collapsing onto the glass and plaster-covered carpeting.

He crouched down beside me, and put his hand on my shoulder, and then he touched my face. "You're safe now," he said.

"Is he really gone?" I asked, because I hadn't watched him, and I couldn't wrap my head around it. Then I said, "I let him go. I let him die."

"Let's get you up," Jean-Luc answered, holding out his hand, but I didn't want to get up. I thought maybe I could just spend the rest of my life there on the floor. Billy was gone again; my father was dead. Had Billy killed my father, or had I?

"Jean-Luc," McBride said, gently. "Give him time. Why don't you go in the hall and comm. Valentine? Let him know what's happened here."

"Doctor –"

McBride said, "Let me talk to him."

"Will," Jean-Luc said, standing. He touched my hair, briefly, and then he walked away.

"You're injured," McBride said, sitting next to me.

I didn't say anything. My injuries weren't life-threatening. There were no excuses for what I'd done.

"I'm going to ask Jean-Luc to transport us both to sickbay," he continued, his voice still calm, as if nothing at all had happened.

I shrugged. "Sickbay won't protect me," I said, "and my injuries are not severe enough to preclude my being placed in custody."

"Your father," McBride said, "saved you, by giving you permission to let him go. He wanted to die, Will. From the very first, he wanted to die."

"What do you mean?" I looked at him. His face was the same as it always was, when he worked with me. Calm. Peaceful.

"You are in shock now," he answered. "When you are well enough to go over what has happened here, I think you will find that you already understand what I am saying. Your father had lived a very long life, for what he was. The only thing that held any meaning for him anymore was you. He wanted, I think, for you to end his pain. His boredom. His inability to be real. And for those brief moments, Will, you gave him what he wanted. You made him real."

"I don't understand," I said. I was listening for Billy – Billy would have called this bullshit, I thought – but Billy had fallen with my father. They had both, in the end, left me. Again.

"Your love for him made him real," McBride said. "He asked for your help, and you gave it to him, even though it hurt you to do so. And so he was, for those few seconds, a human being, a father, for the first time in his life."

"No," I said, and I could feel the tears on my face.

"You let him go because you are who you are, Will," McBride told me. "You are your three separate parts, now whole."

I wiped my face. "Three parts?" I asked. I didn't feel whole. I felt – I felt broken.

"Yes," McBride answered. "You have always had those three parts, ever since you were seven years old. William, and Billy, and Rosie. It was, Will," he said, resting his hand on my shoulder, "Rosie who let your father go."

I knew it was true. My Rosie had always been a part of me. Maybe the best part of me.

Jean-Luc walked back in. "Laidlaw has given us permission to return to the Enterprise," he said. "He understands William's need for continued treatment."

"And for you, Jean-Luc?" McBride asked, standing.

Jean-Luc smiled, the small, ironic one. "Admirals Nechayev and Shanthi are on their way," he answered. "We are to remain in orbit."

"I will, of course, testify on your behalf," McBride said.

Jean-Luc walked over to me, and offered me his hand. "Come, Will," he said, "let's get you home."

I thought perhaps the biobed had become the new brig, but after several hours of poking and prodding, and hypo sprays, and imaging, and fluids, Beverly gave da Costa permission to help me return to my room. I swung my legs over the bed, the stupid gown gaping in the back, and waited for the dizziness to subside.

"Ready, Commander?" da Costa asked. He'd been grinning, when I'd beamed back into sickbay, but after hours in the biobed he'd managed to calm down, and was back to his usual self.

"I owe you an apology," I said, as he helped me to stand. "It seems I'm always apologising to you for something."

"You'll have to show me what you did," da Costa answered equably, as if I'd called him a name or something, instead of taking him out and tying him up.

"Why?" I asked. He handed me my robe, and I put it on. Even though everyone in sickbay had seen my ass countless times, they still weren't going to get a show.

"So I can use it on you," he answered, and he was trying so very hard not to smirk, "the next time you choose to be an asshole."

I was too surprised to say anything. "You realise I do outrank you," I said, finally.

He was not intimidated. "Put me on report," he said, walking me back to my room.

I found I was grinning – and it felt as if I hadn't smiled in weeks. Years, maybe. "Okay," I said, "I will."

He gave me my pyjamas, and waited while I put them on.

"Do I have to get into bed?" I asked. "I don't think I can sleep."

"Yes," he said. "I know you've been hours in the biobed, but you're running on empty, sir, physically and emotionally. Dr McBride has prepared your medications for you, and I promise you, sir, they will knock you out. He'll be in here in five minutes or so. He's with Dr Crusher and Captain Picard now."

"The captain's here?" I asked. He'd offered to help me into the bed, but Beverly had fixed my ribs, two of which had been broken, and so I was still sore, and stiff, but I wasn't incapacitated. My scalp had needed stitches, as my father had said; she'd taken care of my cuts and bruises. The worst of my injuries was what the acrid smoke had done to my lungs; she'd given me oxygen, but it would take time.

"Yes, sir," da Costa answered. "He asked to be apprised of your leaving the biobed."

"They're going to debrief me?" Da Costa was right; I was tired.

"I don't think so, Commander. You're just out of the biobed."

"Medication and then knock me out."

"Yes, sir."

"Am I in custody?"

Da Costa gave me a wry look. "It's not my ship, sir," he said.

I would have laughed, if my chest hadn't hurt so much. "I thought we were even," I said, after a few moments.

"Oh?" da Costa was sitting in Jean-Luc's chair.

"I apologised," I said, "and I have to teach you how to use the pressure point. I put you on report, for calling a commanding officer an asshole."

"And when you're the First Officer again, Mr Riker," da Costa said, "you can put me on report."

"You're a hard man, da Costa," I said.

"You're a good teacher," he answered.

"Don't make me laugh," I said.

"Dr Crusher will give you something for the pain."

"A veritable cornucopia of drugs." I lay back against the pillows and closed my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep for a few minutes, because I heard Dr McBride say, "Will. I'm just here to give you your medication."

I opened my eyes. "What are you giving me?" I asked.

"Just your usual medication," he answered. "And something to help you sleep. Dr Crusher will be here in a minute, with the rest of your meds."

"You're not giving me the stuff that makes everything distant?" I asked.

He sat on the edge of my bed. "Do you think you need that, Will? Or do you think you should need it?"

I opened my mouth, but I couldn't speak. He waited, patiently. I wiped my eyes.

"It hurts," I said.

"Yes," he answered.

I didn't say anything, and I felt my hand go automatically to the blanket. He reached out and took my hand and held it.

"I have to feel this pain," I said, finally.

"Yes," he agreed. "No more turning into stone. As we get older, our parents die, and we must grieve for them. It is the natural order of things."

"I killed him," I said.

"No, Will. He killed himself."

"I don't want to feel this."

"I know you don't." He was still holding my hand.

"You won't give me the medication."

"Of course I will," he answered. "But you will have to process this, the same way that everyone does. The suicide of a parent is very hard, Will. But he didn't want you to enmesh yourself in this. This one time, that's what he didn't want."

"Okay." He let my hand go, and gave me the hypo spray. "You already had it prepared," I said.

He smiled. "We'll have our session tomorrow," he answered. "You have hard work ahead of you, Will. But you'll make it, now."

"Jean-Luc?" I asked. I was feeling sleepy already, but I was sure that was because I wanted to.

"Will be here in a few minutes," he said.

"You're not giving him respite care?"

"I don't think that would be good for either one of you, tonight," McBride remarked. "Here's Dr Crusher."

"You're all settled in?" Beverly asked. "I'd like to stay with you, Will, but the medication's going to knock you out, and I've got over two hundred patients who need me more than you do in Cargo Bay Two." She gave me the hypo spray. "That should help with the pain," she told me. "I will see you in the morning. Lt Fisk will be here, but Dr Sandoval will be with me."

"Okay," I replied, closing my eyes again.

"I have him," I heard Jean-Luc say. I hadn't realised it was night; it was as if this day had never ended.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Will?"

"I'm on a normal schedule tomorrow?" I asked.

"Light normal, yes."

"Will you help me do something first, in case Admiral Laidlaw decides I need to be in custody?"

"Will," Jean-Luc said, "no one is placing you in custody."

"Tell me," McBride answered simply, and I told him. His response was equally simple. "Of course," he said. "You can arrange that, can't you, Jean-Luc?"

"Yes," Jean-Luc said. "I can, if you feel strong enough for this, Will."

"I have to," I said.

"Bien," he replied. "Good night, Sandy," I heard him say, and then I felt him slide me down so my head was on my pillow, and I felt him place the quilt around my shoulders.

"I still get the tuck-in service?" I asked.

"Always," he said. "Go to sleep now. I will be right here."

"Jean-Luc," I said.

"Yes?" I felt him climb into the bed.

"He said you wouldn't come."

"But I did, Will. I came for you. Surely you knew I would."

"I was afraid," I said. "I was afraid I wasn't important enough."

"Come here, you," he said, and I slid over to him, resting my head on his chest. "Will. Even if I didn't love you - and I do, love you – I still would have defied Laidlaw to come for you. Because you have always been important enough. Because you would have come for me. Because you have always come for me."

"And you'll help me," I said, closing my eyes, "tomorrow."

"Yes." He kissed my hair. "I will help you tomorrow."

It was a little surreal, in the morning, to wake up next to Jean-Luc, his arm around me, and then to have Stoch come in with my breakfast, and then da Costa came in to help me shower and dress.

"Will it fit?" I asked, looking at my uniform.

"It should, sir," da Costa said. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"Yes, I do," I answered. "My father is not the only person I need to let go."

I put my uniform on slowly, making sure it fit correctly. My chest was still sore, and it was easier to let da Costa help me with my socks and boots. I attached my pips.

"I should have asked for a haircut," I said.

"I can give you a quick trim, if you want," da Costa offered.

"You are certainly multi-talented," I said, and walked with him back to the head, stripping off my tunic so I wouldn't get hair all over it. "My hair is grey," I said in surprise.

"Shock will do that," he answered. "Hold still."

I dressed and walked back to my room. Waiting was awful. I'd thought and I'd thought about what I would say. I thought about what she would say, to me. How it had been so many years since I'd seen that place, or talked to anyone. Not anyone, I thought. Talked to them, the Shugaks, who were my great-aunt and uncle and I hadn't known it. And to her. It had been thirty years, and I was sure she hated me, because of course I couldn't remember most of what had happened after I found her. I'd lost those years to a fog, which was only now beginning to lift. Bet's death. My first solo flight.

It was too late to back out now, but I wanted to. Jean-Luc had been right. It was too early to do this. I hadn't dealt with anything that had happened; I didn't even know how to deal with what had happened. And there was no one to turn to. No William. No Billy. Just me.

"Are you ready?" Jean-Luc asked.

I nodded. "As I'll ever be," I said.

"You can say no," he said. "Will. If you don't want to do this – if you can't do this, just tell me. Dr McBride and I will do it for you."

I shook my head, feeling my jaw go rigid. "I'll do it," I said. "But then I want someone to knock me out, after. For maybe twelve hours. I don't want to have a session with McBride. I just want it to be over."

He took my hand. "You are still the bravest man I know," he said.

We walked into Beverly's office, me in my uniform and with my hair cut and my beard trimmed, looking like Commander William T Riker, whoever he was. The viewscreen was set up, and Dr McBride was waiting for me, behind Beverly's desk.

"They are ready for you, Will," he said.

I stood beside the desk, and Jean-Luc sat down, and the viewscreen came on. She looked exactly the same, the way I'd thought she'd look, the way she had in all my memories. Just older. And bewildered. And afraid.

"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise," he said, his captain's voice quiet but kind, somehow. "I would like to speak with Mr and Mrs Kalugin, if I may."

I heard her say, "I am Vera Kalugin. My husband Gregory has been gone these past ten years."

"I am pleased to meet you, Mrs Kalugin," Jean-Luc said, and then he added, "Although I would have preferred it to be under happier circumstances."

I stepped back, a bit, because I didn't think I wanted to watch Mrs Kalugin's face as she and Mr and Mrs Shugak – they looked so old – listened to what Jean-Luc had to say. He handled them well, as I knew he would. His voice was kind, in a formal way; non-threatening. He was, as always, the captain. Dr McBride stood beside me, and I felt him rest his hand on my shoulder.

"Breathe, Will," he said quietly, and I nodded.

Jean-Luc was looking at me – what had he said? – and then I heard him say, "I believe, Mrs Shugak, that William must do this, if he is to heal. And William's doctor – who is here with me as well – agrees."

"Deep breath," McBride said, and I breathed.

Mrs Kalugin said, "I would like to speak to William."

I felt my heart stop. It was too late to back out. I took another breath, and I heard Jean-Luc say, "Here he is, Mrs Kalugin."

He stood up, and stepped aside. I walked over to the chair and sat down. I looked at the faces of people I hadn't seen in thirty years. Mrs Kalugin. Mr and Mrs S. Dmitri. I felt my hands shaking, and I set them on the desk in front of me, and I glanced up, once, at Jean-Luc, who nodded.

No worries, Rosie, I thought. It will be all right.

"Hello, Mrs Kalugin," I said.