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Raffi Musiker is scary. But Captain Will Riker would be lying if he didn’t also privately admit that his wife has the ability to completely unnerve him. And, it would seem, she’s having the same effect on Raffi and Worf.
He hasn’t been around the young Jack Crusher for long, but what he did see was a rather uncanny young version of Picard. With more than a few dashes of Beverly Crusher’s sass. There has been a burden placed on all of them, Vadic’s demand that they turn him over. That’s certainly dark enough.
But what Deanna is describing… And while Deanna is gifted in many things, she’s never been prone to exaggeration. If anything, she has a penchant for understatement. The darkness she’s describing makes his skin crawl, and Will is suddenly very aware of every ache and pain in his body. And Will is reminded that his wife nearly passed out a few moments ago.
“Listen… I think we should get ourselves to sickbay first,” he spoke now, eyes flickering around the corridor, still not convinced they’ve rid themselves of all of the unwelcome guests. He reaches for Deanna’s hand and takes it gently, carefully avoiding the angry sores on her forearm, “The last thing you need is an infection.” His stomach wants to flip a little as he remembers how she got those burns. That damn cigar.
Dark eyes meet his, and she offers up the ghost of a smile. “Says the man with open wounds on his face and a concussion.”
“It hasn’t killed me, yet,” came his wry answer, nodding toward the corridor behind them. Titan might have undergone a few upgrades here and there, but he could find his way to sickbay with his eyes closed. And the way his vision in his left eye is blurring, it’s probably a good thing they both know where they’re going.
She sighed, “That’s not saying much.” Given how many things had tried to kill them in the last… what, days? Hours? Regardless, she had a point.
Worf nods to Raffi, and in a moment Raffi is moving ahead to check that it has stayed clear while Worf stalks behind them to cover the back. It is, Will has to admit, annoying that the Klingon has infiltrated the Shrike , freed both of them, exited the ship, successfully boarded Titan , and made it through countless corridors without a single scratch.
He still wasn’t over the speech Worf had unleashed mere moments after their rescue. Will didn’t like to think of himself as the jealous type, and it’s not like they haven’t had their share of experimenting. No, he’s not worried about his relationship. But… there was something deeply unsettling about the reserved former security officer practically spouting an ode to Deanna. It bordered on love poetry, and it had rubbed Will the wrong way.
As they slip into the turbo lift, Deanna steps to the side nearest Raffi and tucks herself against her husband. One hand seeks his, fingers twining together, the other sliding around his bicep as she leans against him and lets her eyes close for the dozen or so seconds it takes to journey to the correct level. There is something vulnerable in the gesture, her cheek rubbing against the fabric of his jacket. Deanna doesn’t speak a word, but she’s giving him a little more of her weight, the toll of the last days is grinding down on them. A thousand aches and pains are making themselves known, and he’s honestly not sure how much of it is his own pain and how much of it is hers. But in a few minutes that will all be over.
As they finally gain the entrance to sickbay, he can feel Deanna swaying again, and Will is moving quickly to compensate, but it’s not easy when she’s still clinging to his arm. The arm he needs to get around her.
“I got you,” came the steady assurance, Raffi is there, nodding to him over Deanna’s head as she slips an arm around the shorter woman and begins to shepherd her toward a bio bed. “Easy, we’re gonna make sure everything checks out.”
“Will!” Beverly is swooping in, her voice full of surprise, and her eyes wide with horror as she takes in his appearance. “Sit down, God, this is… it’s awful.” She looks like she wants to apologize, but she doesn’t seem to know where to start. So she falls into her training, tricorder already starting its assessment.
He nods, or at least he thinks he does, but he’s mostly preoccupied with Deanna. He’s not sure how long they were on the Shrike. Time has blurred, and he can't tell how much of that is the concussion and how much of it is everything else they’ve been through. His wife had tried to keep him awake as long as she could. But it was hard to judge when they were pulled out from time to time, subjected to Vadic’s sadism.
His whole body ached, but it was his face that hurt the most. Or maybe his whole head, throbbing, like there wasn’t enough room in his skull for everything to fit any more. And he was almost glad it ached too much to follow the medical implications of what that might mean. Not that it mattered. The nearest sickbay was god only knew how many lightyears away.
The deck under him and the bench against his back weren’t offering any ease, but at least the discomfort was keeping him awake. And it put him between his wife and anything that might try to come at them. Or for them. Or for Deanna.
She mumbled something incoherent, and Will took a deep breath and let it out slowly and tried to clear his mind. From what she had told him, it didn’t seem like anything beyond abduction had happened to her until they had caught him at Daystrom. But plenty had happened since, and if she could meditate or even sleep and get a short reprieve, Will was going to let her have it while he tried to stay awake and gain any observation he could about their captors, who didn’t seem to be patrolling in any kind of pattern he had noticed.
“Will?” the question is laced with concern, and he blinks up at deep blue eyes.
“Hhmm?”
“Any nausea? And when was the last time you slept?” Beverly asks patiently, pressing a hypospray to his neck. In moments, the aches are starting to fade.
His gaze flickered to Deanna, who is laying on her own bio bed, but the tension seems to have left her, so she’s been given something, too. He can see a nurse starting to work the dermal regenerator over her forearm. “I threw up at Daystrom, after, I don't know? … a couple of hits. But not after that. And I haven’t slept since… I’m not sure.”
Her hand cups the right side of his face. “Alright, but at least hold still so I don’t make a bigger mess.”
Whatever analgesic she gave him, it’s settling into his system now. As the pain quiets down, the tiredness is settling in. There’s probably not time right now– there never seems to be time– to simply rest for a bit. He’s starting to think about how nice a sonic shower would be, or even one with real hot water. Or a bed. An actual bed, and not a metal bench or a bunk. With his wife beside him, spooned against his chest, her comfortable and familiar weight anchoring him…
“Ok… moving over to your side now,” Beverly adds, “Nothing broken, but you do have some muscle strain and abrasions… what the hell did they do to you?”
He nearly shrugged before remembering that he needed to hold still so that she could work. “Most of it happened when they caught me at Daystrom. Some of it was after… they wanted a way onto Titan . Access.” He feels himself flushing with embarrassment, and instead of answering further, Will lapses into silence. Deanna might have tried to reassure him… but he’s a captain. He’s Starfleet. He’s Captain Will fucking Riker. And while he would have understood anyone else breaking, he can’t help but feel ashamed that he was the one to do it.
But he meant what he told Deanna. He couldn’t handle what they were doing to her. And he knew that Vadic had known exactly what she was doing and why. What was worse, it wasn’t about him. Or Deanna. It was all about Jack Crusher. Or maybe Picard. They were simply a means to an end. To a code. To access.
Will isn’t even completely aware he had closed his eyes until he feels cool metal against his neck again, and he almost flinches.
“Just a little booster,” Beverly assures, giving his upper arm a squeeze of assurance. “You’re dehydrated. And you have a concussion, but I think you knew that.”
He nods slightly, glad to find that moving his head feels almost normal again. “Thanks,” he murmurs. “Can I go now?”
“Follow up with protocols in a few hours, though,” Beverly reminds him. “Just to be safe.”
His attention is a few feet away, though, and he slid off the bio bed to cross the short distance to where Deanna is laying down with one newly healed arm across her eyes. He knows how exhausted she must feel, not simply from what they’ve been through, but from the surges of intense emotions that have spiked over the last hours all around them.
Raffi gives him a nod and stalks silently away from them, moving toward the entrance to sickbay. She takes up a post on the side opposite from where Worf planted himself not long after they arrived.
Before he can say anything, Deanna's other hand lifts, moving toward him, and he takes it in both of his, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Better?” he can’t help the surge of concern that continues to thrum through him. She’s thinner than he remembers her being when he left Nepenthe. There are circles under her eyes. And even if he didn’t know her as well as he does, it’s obvious she’s exhausted. Boosters only do so much.
“Mmm,” she hums an answer, letting him have the hand but not otherwise moving. “Remember when Kestra had colic for weeks?”
Did he. They had spent so many nights and early hours trying to soothe her. The first half dozen attempts their doctor had tried had not agreed with their baby. They both ended up in tears multiple times, worn down and at their wit’s end with a screaming baby and a very grouchy and sleep-deprived Thad, who more than once had asked if they could send her back until she could use her quiet voice. “Vividly.”
She moves now, arm lifting and dark eyes blinking up at him and then wincing at the lights, but she doesn't object when Will slides an arm under her shoulders and slowly helps her to sit. She shifts toward him and gently moves him in front of her as she leans against his chest. “I could use a shower. And clean clothes.”
He presses a kiss into her hair, not caring that it was dirty. For a long moment, she breathes with him. In and out. Their world narrows to the two of them. Safe. At least for now.
“And a meal and a nap.” Beverly Crusher has clearly had enough of waiting for them to have a few moments, and she’s moving in now. Her arm reaches out, as if to embrace Deanna, but she pauses for a long moment, frozen.
“I’ve waited long enough to hug you again,” Deanna chides lightly, catching her friend’s arm and drawing her into a hug with both her and Will. “I’m so glad to see you,” she breathes, resting against both of them, practically flooding Will with her gratitude for this moment, soaking up the comfort of their dear friend. No doubt wishing, like him, that this moment could stretch a lot longer than it will.
It doesn’t surprise Will that both of them have tears in their eyes, or that Beverly is trying to apologize again. Not that any of this is really her fault. God knows that he and Deanna had fought for every option for Thad. Like either of them would fault her for doing everything in her power to save her son. The only child she has left. And he wishes for the thousandth time that he could call Kestra. Or hug her. Or hide her far away from everything that’s happening. And he has to have some hope in the fact that she’s safe and that she’s smart and can keep herself safe.
“We have a lot to catch up on,” Beverly finally adds, she offers her hand, helping Deanna carefully descend from the bed. “I think Geordi and the others want to gather soon. We can come up with…But for now, you can use the facilities in the back. Showers, replicate some fresh clothes…”
There’s something else that she’s saying as she’s guiding Deanna through triage and back toward the spaces for observation and labs and showers… But while his wife has her hand wrapped around Beverly’s arm, her attention draws like gravity to Jack Crusher, who has stepped into the room.
Confusion flickers across her face, and then she takes a breath, Beverly carrying on some monologue, and a knowing certainty settles across his wife’s features. Dark eyes flicker to Will, and her lips press into a thin line. There are scary things. And dark things, old things. And those things are closer than any of them want to consider. Will’s hand slides to the small of her back, and he steps behind her. Whatever darkness lurks in this young man or around him, Deanna has found the next link. He’s not sure if that comforts him or not. But he’s certain that the path forward is together, with their family. And that journey isn’t ending without a fight.