Chapter Text
To: Dr. Beverly Crusher
Subject: Notification of Death – Admiral Jean-Luc Picard
Dr. Crusher,
It is with deep regret that we inform you, as the registered next of kin, of the passing of Admiral Jean-Luc Picard. Admiral Picard has passed away on Coppelius in the Ghulion system. The circumstances surrounding his death are currently under investigation, and further details will be provided as they become available.
His remains are being transported, as arranged by Altan Inigo Soong, in accordance with his discretion. If you have any specific requests regarding Admiral Picard’s funeral arrangements, please contact Starfleet Command at your earliest convenience. Should we not receive any directives, Starfleet will proceed with making all necessary arrangements.
Please accept our most sincere condolences during this difficult time.
Respectfully,
Starfleet Command
United Federation of Planets
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She stared at the screen, forcing herself to read the communiqué again, certain she had misread it.
A wave of nausea swept over her as her skin turned cold and the bridge seemed to spin. She couldn’t tell if her body was growing lighter or heavier; all she knew was that she was losing control. This had to be a mistake.
The message had come through the emergency channels she had meticulously set up with third and fourth parties. But she had never prepared herself for this. She was always supposed to come back. To see him again. To tell him … so much.
She had imagined their conversations, moments of reconciliation … or the opposite. Him setting eyes on his, their, son …. understanding, or at least wanting to. But regardless of their outcomes, she had never imagined them not happening.
She tried to rise from the console, but her legs gave out beneath her, sending her tumbling against it.
"Whoa, whoa … Mum!" Jack's voice cut through the bridge's tense silence as he rushed to catch her. His arms wrapped around her just in time, supporting her as she slumped against him. Her eyes were distant, the whites rolling back as she fought to stay conscious.
“Mum!” he repeated, his voice rising in panic. Her body felt limp, almost weightless, as he scooped her up and carried her to the sickbay.
"I was going to come back … I was …" she mumbled, her voice faint and disconnected.
“Mum,” Jack said softly, though his anxiety was clear as he gently laid her on the biobed. His hand trembled slightly as he brushed her hair from her face, trying to soothe her and anchor her to the present. But her eyes were distant, as if she were seeing something, or someone, he couldn’t.
“No, I have to … talk to you,” she muttered, her words slurred as she tried to push herself up. Disoriented, she tumbled off the bed and staggered, her determination giving her a burst of energy despite her obvious confusion.
“What are you talking about? Mum!” Jack’s heart pounded in his chest as he tried to guide her back onto the bed, but she wrenched free. Despite her disorientation, she stumbled with surprising speed back toward the bridge.
“Mum!” he called again as he followed her. He found her bent over the console, re-reading the message that had started it all.
Her breaths were rapid and hitched before she suddenly slumped again, letting out a desperate, lamenting scream.
“Oh my gods, Mum … what the hell is happening?” Jack’s voice quivered with fear as he reached out to her. He had never seen her this disoriented or unhinged, and it both bewildered and terrified him.
She gripped the console so tightly that her knuckles turned white as she trembled. Her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps.
“It’s … it’s not supposed to be like this. I was supposed to … We were supposed to …” She struggled to form coherent thoughts, her eyes filling with tears that began to spill over.
“Jack … I’m sorry. This is my fault,” her voice faltered as she tried to steady herself.
He was becoming desperate. “Mum, what is it? Please, just tell me!”
She shook her head, her lips pressed together in an effort to contain her emotions. “I thought we still had time … That we just needed a little more time and then … we could …”
Her voice broke into another uncontrolled sob despite her best efforts. She reached out and placed a trembling hand on his cheek. “I’m so sorry, baby …”
Jack’s heart pounded as tears filled his eyes. He struggled to understand, but the pieces of the puzzle were coming together … slowly.
She slumped to the floor, leaning heavily against the base of the console. Jack stood over her as he finally looked at the communiqué.
The silence of the bridge seemed to press in on them, until it was abruptly shattered by the sound of Jack’s hand slamming through the glass of the console. The screen cracked into a spiderweb pattern, obscuring the words that had told him the news: his father was dead. The father he had been angry with for reasons he was still trying to make sense of.
At the sound of the glass breaking, she pulled herself up and composed herself enough to wrap her arms around her son. Their eyes met, and they both knew that the other understood.
In a tight embrace, she stroked his hair as she always had, as he tried to hold back tears, fighting against the urge to cry like a little boy.
“I’m so sorry, baby …” she repeated, her voice trembling. “I should have …”
“No!” Jack yelled, his voice cracking with anguish. “We both know why we were too late … We didn’t … need him. We didn’t. Just as he didn’t want us!” His words faltered, breaking into a sob.
“Baby …” she cried, feeling the room spin around her once more.
“We didn’t …” Jack repeated, his voice hollow and desperate. He pulled away from their embrace and fled to his quarters, leaving her alone.
She slumped back against the console, her gaze distant as if she were staring at something that wasn’t there.
“Oh, Jean-Luc … There’s something I have to tell you …” she whispered, her voice breaking.