Caring (Part 1 of the "C" series)
by astraplain@yahoo.com


He suspected she had been drinking by the way she 
mumbled her response.    

"Was that a 'yes' I heard?" he prodded, amusement in 
his voice.

"You need your hearing checked." she answered, this 
time speaking slowly enough for him to understand.  
He almost let it go at that, ready to turn away and 
leave her to her damnable Ice Maiden solitude.  The 
sight of the empty bottle on the floor changed his 
mind..

Chateau Picard, the familiar label read, simple and 
elegant against the dark glass.  The bottle was cold 
to the touch and the faint odor of the rich burgundy 
teased him.  A very good year indeed.

He carried the bottle with him refusing to let her 
rigid back be the barrier she meant it to be.

"Beverly?"

"Please go." she begged, knowing he wouldn't comply.  
"Please."  This last plea nothing but a broken 
whisper.

He showed her the bottle.

The straight wall of her back crumpled and her 
shoulders sagged.  Wild targs wouldn't drag him from 
her now.  His arms went around her, gently turning 
her into his embrace.

It took hours, time in which he held her, first 
rocking her as they stood, then guiding her to the 
sofa where he cradled her slender form against his 
own. Time in which she spoke little but he learned 
much.

Time in which she mourned for a dead world and the 
broken promise of lost lives.  Especially the 
children.  Gone.  All gone but the pain of those 
still living.  Those left behind to catalog the death 
and destruction.  

Being left behind was something Beverly Crusher knew 
well.  Survivors they were called by those who could 
never understand this particular kind of hell.

Kevin Uxbridge had been a survivor.  He had been a 
kind, gentle, loving being.  Losing that love had 
driven him to an act of madness.  Beverly understood 
that too. How tenuous sanity could be when love is 
suddenly taken away.

Lying in Will's comforting embrace she  found herself 
telling him things she'd vowed never to tell anyone.  
She heard her own voice, seeming distant and removed, 
speaking of the child she had lost.  The daughter who 
died before being born.  Losing Jack.  How the pieces 
of her life fell away so quickly that the only thing 
she had left to grasp was her son.  And how he was 
leaving her too. Taken not by death, but by the siren 
song of growing up, seducing him away from her.

Gone.  All gone.

She woke much later to his gentle smile.  He had held 
her all night, her hands clutching him, holding onto 
him like a lifeline.  She released her grip quickly, 
embarrassment tinting her ivory skin pink.  

He wouldn't let her pull away, stroking her hair and 
whispering reassurances until she calmed.  When, at 
last, it was time for him to leave, he leaned down to 
her and placed his lips on hers.  The kiss lingered, 
sweet and tender, and then he was gone.  The warmth 
of his parting smile leaving her with a promise.  
Friends forever.

And she knew this was one promise that would never be 
broken.

:::end:::