Christmas Dreams
Introduction and setting: The Christmas that Picard was stuck in during Generations has always made me thought, that should be Beverly not someone else. So, taking from that idea and Christmas Carol, I decided to write a Christmas story that is similar, yet a little different. The setting is post TNG, shortly after Nemesis. French words used in story:
Thank you = Merci
Thank you very much = Merci beaucoup
You're welcome = de rien
Please = S'il vous plaît
c'est si bon = This is good!
Tres bien = Very good.
Christmas Dreams
Rated PG
“Welcome home, Papa!” His son shouted as he ran up to greet him.
“Merry Christmas, Robert!” He returned his son’s greeting. “Have you been good for your mother while I was away?”
“Oui, Papa, and I helped her with Dennette and Marie too.”
“Tres bien,” he smiled at his son who was eight years old. The other two appeared to be around three and six, both of whom had quickly followed behind Robert.
He studied their tree, which had bright glistening lights and tinsel. It was a tall, full tree, just as he had always dreamed of having, with several presents tucked under it.
He was proud of all of his accomplishments over the years, this one especially. He thought it had been too late to have a family at his age, but even so he had managed.
“Papa, are you here to stay for Christmas or is Starfleet going to want you back at headquarters soon?” Marie asked.
She was very bright for her age and did not seem to miss a thing. He noticed when she was very young she was very observant and as she got older, she became very precocious.
“No, I’m here for Christmas until the beginning of next week.”
“Oh goody!”
“Jean-Luc!” Beverly exclaimed with joy when she walked through the dining room entrance and greeted him with a kiss. “You’re home! We can start dinner anytime you’re ready. I believe Wesley is putting the finishing touches on the table.”
He admired his wife’s beauty as she turned to see if Wesley was coming. Her red hair was in a French roll and she wore a red satin dress with a small green appliquéd Christmas tree on the front. Jean-Luc’s attention was soon adverted from his wife when he heard the swinging kitchen doors.
Wesley walked out of the kitchen with the turkey not long after Beverly’s last statement. “As a matter of fact, as soon as I put the turkey on the table we can all sit down and enjoy dinner.”
“Thank you, Wesley. I wasn’t sure if you were ready to place that on the table or not.”
“You had time for all of this?” Jean-Luc asked with surprise.
“Well, there weren’t any patients to attend to at Starfleet medical since yesterday, so I took off early to prepare dinner,” she informed him. “Unfortunately, I’m on call in case I’m needed.”
“And you Wesley, Captain Riker let you come home for Christmas?”
“Yes Sir, he thought I should spend Christmas with my family.”
Jean-Luc smiled as everyone sat down at the table. He was so happy to have his family together this year.
“You sit, Papa?” A small voice asked.
It was then he awoke from his dream. He laid there for a moment with a look of sadness on his face.
‘I have to stop thinking about what could have been or what might be!’ He scolded himself. ‘Beverly and I are living two separate lives now! She made her decision to work at Starfleet Medical and I made mine to accept the rank of admiral and work at headquarters. Too much time has passed for any hope of a future together. She’s living her life and here I lay a lonely, broken, old man. Alone for Christmas, just as I have been since Robert and his family died.’
It was four days before Christmas and he could not keep from dreaming about Beverly and everything he had imagine a life with her would be like. He had been having similar dreams for several nights lately and after each one, he would lay awake, tossing and turning until he decided it was time for him to get up and begin another day.
‘Maybe I should call Beverly. That maybe just what I need to stop having these dreams,’ he thought when he decided to get out of bed.
He walked over to the replicator and ordered, “Tea, Earl Grey, hot.”
When the cup of tea materialized he took it out of its slot and carried it over to the table. However, he did not sit down. Instead he seemed preoccupied by the emptiness of it.
‘Beverly and I use to have breakfast together on the Enterprise almost every morning. Now, breakfast doesn’t seem like much without her.’
With his empty hand he wiped the sleep from one eye and then the other. ‘I do have to stop thinking about Beverly. Of course, the idea of breakfast together does sound good. She probably doesn’t have time now. Still, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask her when I call her.’
“Computer, what time is it?”
“The time is 0400.”
‘Merde! I really do need to get more sleep!’ He thought. ‘Well, I have four hours to kill before I have to be on duty. Might as well find a good book to read.’
He walked over to his bookcase, pulled out a very old copy of A Christmas Carol, and sat down in his favourite chair to begin reading it. It was not long before he was fast asleep and dreaming again.
“Wow! Papa, Mama, merci!” An elated little girl cried with joy.
“De rien, Marie!” Jean-Luc replied as the happy child hugged and kissed him.
It was an old-fashion porcelain doll with moving eyes and when tilted it cried, “Mama!”
“We weren’t expecting you, Wes, so we picked up something at the last minute,” Beverly informed him as she handed him a gift. “We hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will,” he replied politely as he began to open it.
“It’s a shame you couldn’t call sooner, but we do understand,” Jean-Luc stated. “How is it serving on the Titan?”
“Oh it’s wonderful! I love being on the Titan! Almost as nice as being on the Enterprise!” Wesley exclaimed. “Oh this is nice! Smells good too! Thank you.”
“Well, cologne wasn’t exactly what we had in mind, but we didn’t know what you wanted,” Beverly told her son.
“It’s fine, Mom. Really,” he insisted. “Besides, I travel lightly anyway. So, how is France treating you, Mom?”
“WOW!” Shouted little Robert. “C'est si bon! A remote control ship! Merci, Mama et Papa!”
Beverly smiled as her other son began playing with his ship. “Well, it’s taken me a while to learn the language, but I’m getting by. Your sisters and brother seem to be acquiring the language very quickly.”
“It’s no surprise,” Wesley stated with a smile. “After all, look who’s their big brother.”
“Dennette, here’s yours,” Beverly told her younger daughter as she helped her look through the presents for her gift.
“Merci, Mama!” She replied in her three year old, mousy-like voice.
“The time is 0700,” the voice of the computer interrupted his dream. “The time is 0700.”
“Computer, reset for twenty-four hours.”
Picard finally rose from the chair he had fallen asleep in and headed for the shower. Afterwards, he dressed and headed for the replicator, still yawning from less sleep than usual.
“Coffee, black.”
The coffee appeared and as soon as he removed it from the slot, he began thinking back on his dreams of the night before. He could not figure out why he was having such dreams lately.
‘Could it be I’m wishing for Christmases that I will never have? And why were Beverly and Wesley in my dreams? I really should call her.’
After a while, Jean-Luc finally left his quarters, already forgetting some of the details of his dreams, and headed for his office at headquarters.
The day was uneventful as he returned home at the end of the day. Once he had walked inside his quarters he noticed he had a message waiting for him.
‘It’s Will!’ He smiled. ‘Or Deanna or both. I meant to call Beverly today too. It’s 1900 hours. Well, I guess I’ll read Will and Deanna’s message and get back with them tonight. Then I’ll be sure to call Beverly tomorrow.’
He listened to Will’s message, ‘Admiral Picard!’ Will greeted him with a grin. ‘That has a nice ring to it! Anyway, just called to see if you had plans for Christmas. We’d like to drop by and say ‘Merry Christmas’. Yes, the Titan will be in dry dock for repairs. Seems we took a bit of a beating from the Rameons. The Romulans tried to assist us, but we still got busted up pretty badly. Gotta get back to the Bridge. Deanna sends her love and tell Beverly ‘hi’ for us.’
The screen went blank as Picard pushed back his non-existent hair. ‘They don’t know that Beverly and I have gone our separate ways and don’t see as much of each other as we used to. She hasn’t told them I guess.’ He shook his head. ‘Surely she would have said something to them by now.’
He decided he was too tired to reply and with only a few days left, he still was not sure what his plans were going to be. ‘I’ll send them a message tomorrow.’
Then he walked over to the replicator, “Vegetable soup and Earl Grey hot.”
“Specify type of Vegetable soup,” the computer insisted in its monotone voice.
“What?” He asked distractedly.
“Specify type of Vegetable soup.”
“Oh yes. Um…” he thought for a moment. “Never mind. I’ll have pastrami on rye with Swiss cheese.”
The sandwich appeared, but not his tea. He then realized he had accidentally cancelled it when he cancelled the soup. He frowned as he said, “Earl Grey, hot.”
His tea materialized finally and he removed it from the slot. After taking a cautious sip from the cup, he made his way to his favourite chair. He then sat his plate on the table beside the chair and then his tea. ‘Now what did I do with my book this morning?’
He looked around for it and finally found it tucked in his chair. ‘Ah, here we go!’
He sat down and ate his sandwich as he read his book. Shortly after finishing his sandwich, he fell asleep with the book in his lap.
“Hey! Give me back my book!” A teenage Jean-Luc shouted.
“No! It’s mine now!” Robert taunted his little brother as he knocked him down to the ground.
“Boys!” Their mother hurried over to where they were and attempted to stop their fight. “Jean-Luc! Robert! Stop this, this instant!”
They did not seem to hear their mother as they continued to fight to the death. In the process they knocked down the Christmas tree.
“Boys!”
“You’ll never be worth your keep, Jean-Luc!” Robert growled. “No woman will have you with your head in the clouds!”
“Not true! You take that back!” Exclaimed Jean-Luc as he punched his brother square in the nose.
“Ugh! Why you little… I’m bleeding!”
“Serves you right for fighting with your brother! Honestly! I have no idea what I’m going to do with the two of you.”
“MOM!” Robert screamed.
“You know what to do. Once you stop the bleeding help your bother stand the tree up again.”
Jean-Luc woke from his dream again. ‘I think I need to stop reading Charles Dickens before bedtime,’ he thought. Then he said, “Computer, time?”
“The time is zero hundred hours.”
“Midnight,” he mumbled. ‘Guess I should head to bed.’
Jean-Luc prepared for bed, and then slid under the covers. It did not take long for him to fall asleep again.
In his next dream he was having Christmas dinner with Jack and Beverly Crusher. Wesley was a baby, sitting in a high chair beside his mother, Beverly. She gave the young Wesley a dinner roll, which he immediately began playing with, instead of eating it.
“As usual, he gets more on the floor and the outside of him then he does in his mouth,” Beverly quipped.
“He’s learning,” Jean-Luc tried to encourage.
“Come on, little man,” she sighed as she lifted him out of the high chair. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“Have fun!” Jack teased.
“Yes, always a ball!” Beverly remarked playfully. “You sure you don’t want to clean him up, Jack?”
“No, you go ahead, dear. I’ll keep Jean-Luc entertained.”
“Suit yourself,” she replied as she left the room.
“It’s amazing the tree is still standing or hasn’t landed on top of Wes,” Jack informed Jean-Luc as he noticed him admiring their tree.
“He’s that inquisitive?” Jean-Luc asked.
“Yes, he has knocked it over a few times and he’s not even walking yet.”
“Maybe a bigger tree would have solved the problem,” Jean-Luc suggested.
“Yes, maybe next year,” Jack agreed. “We seemed to have gone through a lot of credits just for Wes’s first Christmas alone.”
“Hope it was worth it.”
“Oh, yes! It was. He’s growing like a weed, so he needed the new clothes, for starters, and you have to feed a bright mind like his or he’ll get into trouble.”
"Well, he will be walking soon,” Jean-Luc mentioned. “I can tell by how he pulls himself up to a standing position with furniture.”
“Yes and he’s only eight months old.”
“He’ll take off any day now.”
Jack nodded and as he did the dream changed to that fateful day a few months later. The day Jack had died while serving under Jean-Luc on the Stargazer.
Jean-Luc had sent his friend out on a mission of no return. Then he had to retrieve Jack’s corpse, so he could return it to Beverly. It was a difficult task for any captain, but made harder because of whom it was. He had sent his friend out to die and now he had to tell his friend’s wife what had happened. Could she ever forgive him?
When Jack’s dead body appeared in the dream, Jean-Luc woke with a start. Memories of that day were again haunting him, only this time in his dreams.
“I’ve got to stop this!” Jean-Luc scolded himself. “Beverly doesn’t hold it against me, so why am I?”
He got up and headed to the replicator, “Water, five degrees Celsius.”
The nightly trips to the replicator, he realized, were becoming a habit. At the same time, he was not sure how to make the dreams stop.
“Computer, time?”
“The time is 0400 hours.”
“Damn! The same time I woke up last night! This is got to stop!” He scolded himself.
He paced the floor, “I have to remember to call Beverly. Maybe the dreams will stop then or maybe I’m fooling myself.”
He decided to go to his office early and busy himself with work since he could not sleep anyway. It was almost 0600 hours, when a fellow admiral had seen his light on in his office.
Since the door was ajar, she tapped it lightly, and as she poked her head in she teased, “You’re in early. Are you trying to take after me and work yourself to death?”
“Ah, Kathryn. Come in,” he greeted as he waved her on into his office. “You know, I could ask the same of you.”
“Yes, but I just got here and it’s obvious you have been here for a while.” She gestured to all the PADDS scattered on his desk.
“Yes, well… I’ve had a little trouble sleeping lately.”
“Yes, being at the top can do that too you,” Janeway commented jokingly, but then realized that something was really bothering Picard. “What’s troubling you, Jean-Luc?”
“It’s nothing, really.”
“No, it’s more than that. Don’t ask how I can tell, but since being out in the Delta Quadrant, I’ve developed a sixth sense.”
“Is that when you became Betazoid?” He asked jovially.
“Possibly.” She then waited for him to tell her what was wrong, but when he did not say another word, she finally said, “Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to work.”
As she turned to leave, Jean-Luc said, “You’re right. It is lonely at the top.”
Without saying a word, Kathryn turned around to hear the rest of what he had to say.
“I thought being captain meant I couldn’t have a relationship with the one I loved. Now, here I am, an admiral. I should have listened to Kirk. Then at least I’d have one of my true loves, the Enterprise. No, I had to accept admiralty, and now I have no one. Just these damn dreams of what might have been and what was.”
There was a deafening silence when he finished. Kathryn did not know what to say that would make him feel any better, but she did know she had gone after the man she wanted and won. If she had not gone after him, she would have been sitting where Picard was now, alone during the holidays.
Finally, she said, “Take it from me, Jean-Luc. Go after her, tell her you want her in your life, that you need her, whatever it is you feel, tell her. You won’t regret it.” Then she shrugged, “I didn’t at least.”
“Yes, but Captain Chakotay was more receptive of your wants and needs. I don’t think Beverly really cares anymore.”
“Or maybe Doctor Crusher is thinking you don’t.”
“No, she’s living her own life now.”
“You won’t know unless you try.”
Jean-Luc nodded, “Yes, maybe you’re right. She’s at Starfleet Medical. I’ll call her later, when I know she is on duty.”
“Suit yourself. The sooner you talk to her, the better. Let me know how it turns out,” she said as she turned again to leave.
“I will,” Jean-Luc replied as he watched Kathryn Janeway depart from his office. ‘Now there goes a wise woman. Guess being stranded out in the middle of no where, trying to get home again, does that to a person.’
Once again, the day went by quickly and Jean-Luc still had not called Beverly. He decided he would call her after he was home.
Twenty-two hundred hours arrived and he had not called her. “She’s probably in bed, sleeping now.”
So, Jean-Luc decided to turn-in for the night, but sleep did not come easily and when it did, it was filled with demons from the past and future.
“A futile maneuver,” Locutus stated flatly as Beverly scanned him with her tricorder. “Human, female. You will be assimilated, like everyone else. Resistance is futile.”
His mechanical arm pointed at the woman he loved most. Every part of his very being was being controlled by the Borg, everything he was, was gone.
However, the person who cared for him most was beside him, trying to help him, and he was about to assimilate her. What was left of his soul still cared deeply for Beverly, and fought hard not to violate her individuality.
Then he pointed his mechanical arm at Troi. Apparently, his arm was more threatening to her, than it was to Beverly, because she quickly moved behind Data for protection. Beverly, on the other hand, had just jumped back away from him.
Yet, somehow, both she and Deanna knew he was fighting for every ounce of humanity he still had left after his assimilation. With his crew’s help, and Beverly’s medical expertise, he became human again. Still, he did not tell her how much he loved her and how hard he fought not to assimilate her.
Then his dream switched to the future. He was an old man, beaten down by time and unfulfilled wishes. The old Picard hobbled around his home with a cane, alone and desolate. There was no one to care for him in his old age, but one visitor.
“You’re dead!” Picard suddenly exclaimed.
“As you see, Sir, I am alive,” the visitor stated, “In your dreams, at least.”
“No!” a befuddled old man exclaimed as he paced the floor. “This isn’t right! You’re supposed to be dead!”
“Sir, if you will come with me, I have some things to show you.”
“What do I have to loose?” The old Picard shrugged. “What can a figment of my imagination do to an old man like me? Dead or not, Data, I’ll go with you and let you show me what you wish to show me.”
“I assure you, Sir, you are not dead.”
“No, but you are!” the old Picard insisted. Then he pointed to his bald head, “Unless this old mind has tricked me again.”
“No, Sir,” the android stated, “It has not.”
“What is it you want to show me, old friend?”
“This way, Sir.”
“Where are we going?”
“You will see.”
Suddenly, there was a lone tombstone that said, ‘Here lies a hero among many. He won’t be forgotten. RIP’
“Where are Robert and his family’s graves?”
“Have you forgotten, Sir? They died in a fire. There were no bodies to bury.”
“Yes, of course,” Picard replied with bewilderment. “I’m an old man, Data, don’t confuse me. I get confused enough as it is.”
“Sorry, Sir, I did not mean to perplex you. However, there is more.”
“What? There’s more?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Why do I feel like I’m Scrooge in Charles Dickens?”
“Excuse me, Sir? Scrooge?”
“Never mind, Data, I’m too old to remember which file to tell you to look under for the information.”
“That is quite alright, Sir. I am sure I can find it. Accessing,” he replied. “Ah! Charles Dickens, ‘A Christmas Story’, Scrooge. Very intriguing! It is about an old man who is…”
“Yes, yes, Data,” Picard shook his free hand to stop the android from continuing. “I know what it’s about, now could you get on with showing me what it is you wish to show me? I’m not getting any younger, you know.”
“Yes, Sir.”
They left the grave site faster than any transporter could take them from one place to another. Before them was an old woman crying. She had friends with her, who tried to comfort her, but they seemed to be failing miserably.
“He had no idea how much I loved him,” she cried. “Or if he did, he didn’t care.”
“I do love you, Beverly!” Jean-Luc shouted.
“They can not hear you, Sir.”
“Beverly,” a salt and pepper haired woman touched her arm, “He cared very much for you. He just didn’t know how to show it.”
His old crew, minus Data, were alone and viewing an open casket. Inside was Picard’s cold, pale corpse.
“No Deanna, he was too wrapped up in Star Fleet to even notice!” Beverly continued to cry.
“That’s not true, Beverly!” Deanna insisted.
“Yes it is!” She suddenly stood. “Now he’ll never know just how much I loved him.”
Then she rushed out of room as a concerned grey bearded man walked up beside Deanna. “Is she alright?”
“I don’t know, but I sense a lot of heartbreak.”
“That’s nothing new.”
“This time it is different, Will,” she informed him. “I can’t explain it, but she will never be able to tell Admiral Picard just how she feels now.”
Will suddenly felt as if his own heart had been ripped out of his chest, “I’m glad I won’t be left feeling like that or leave you feeling like that.”
“I wish there was something we could do for her.”
“Maybe there is,” Worf suggested.
“Worf,” Geordi began, “I don’t think a Klingon ritual would be a good idea.”
“That was not what I was going to suggest.”
The scene changed once again and they were on Beverly’s home planet. There were several tombstones, many of which bared the surname Howard. The android was trying to show Jean-Luc one in particular.
“No, I don’t want to look!” Jean-Luc painfully insisted.
“You must!” The android ordered.
Jean-Luc never in his life known Data to give him an order, but this time, Data was ordering him. There was no doubt about it.
“Please, I’m tired and I’d like to go home, Data. Please, take me home!” Jean-Luc pleaded.
“Why do you refuse to look?” It was almost an evil tone of voice coming from the android, almost as if he were the devil himself.
Jean-Luc was struggling too much with his own emotions to notice the change in the android. “I know it is Beverly’s grave. Why must I look at it?”
“Because you must look and know for yourself why she died,” the android said sinisterly.
“No, Data!” Picard tried to run away, but his feet were stuck. “Please, just take me home! I’ve seen enough!”
“You can wake up when we are done.”
“Wake up? Yes, I must wake up, but I can’t.”
“When we have finished you will,” the android informed him. “Now look upon her grave and read her epitaph.”
Jean-Luc shook his head, “I can’t Data.”
“You must!”
Slowly and nervously, Jean-Luc looked at Beverly’s grave site and read the inscription on the headstone. ‘Beverly Cheryl Howard Crusher. Born October 13, 2324 Died August 5, 2404 of a Broken Heart.’
“Why are you showing me this?” Picard demanded.
“There’s more,” the android stated as he pointed to the couple standing beside the grave.
“She loved him so much,” Deanna cried as she put an arm around Will and laid her head on his chest.
“Yes, it was like they were Imzadi with how quickly she passed away after Jean-Luc’s death.”
“Promise me something, Will.”
“What?”
“Promise me, that if I go first, you will continue to live life to its fullest.”
“Only if you promise me you’ll do the same, if I go first.”
Deanna nodded sadly, “Maybe if they had acknowledged their love for each other before they died…”
“I don’t know it may have turned out the same,” Will shrugged.
“It’s my fault she died!” Jean-Luc cried as he fell to his knees, “I killed her! Just as I killed Jack! I killed her!”
“She’d have died eventually,” the android insisted with an even more ominous tone in his voice.
“Yes, but she would have been a happier woman if I had told her I loved her.”
“Time’s running out, Picard! Your time’s about to end!” The android stated wickedly. Then his voice took the tone of a Borg, “Soon, you’ll see your future’s end.”
"You used contractions!” Jean-Luc accused. “You’re not Data! You’re Lore!”
The android laughed sinisterly, “Even after all these years, I can still fool you! Stupid, stupid humans! Will you never learn?”
Then Lore changed to a Nausicaan, but it was Q’s voice taunting him, “When will you ever learn! You humans are so feeble minded and in your case, without a heart. Oh, wait! You do have one, but it isn’t real! It’s a fake heart, an artificial transplant. If it were real then maybe you’d have told the love of your life how you really felt.”
“Q, Lore, whoever you are, leave me alone and allow me to wake up from this horrid dream now!”
“Time’s running out, John Luck Pickerd! Tick, tock! You’d better tell her before it’s too late!”
“Before it’s too late!” Picard muttered in his dream-like state. “Before it’s too late!”
Suddenly he sat up, “Computer, lights, one-quarter illumination!”
The computer bleeped its reply and the lighting rose slightly.
Picard looked around and sighed with relief, “Good! Neither Q nor Lore is here. It was just a dream.”
"I have to call Beverly,” he said frantically as he ran to his view screen and punched some buttons. “I can’t let it end this way.”
It took some time for a sleepy Beverly Crusher to answer her comm. Once she did and noticed who was calling she exclaimed, “Jean-Luc, it’s two in the morning!”
“I know,” he began anxiously, and then said, “Actually, I have to tell you something.”
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, there’s something I must say before it’s too late,” he insisted again.
“You seem a bit disoriented and upset about something,” she observed. “Do I need to come over and examine you?”
“I assure you, Beverly, I’m fine!” he persisted. “I just need to tell you something before it’s too late.”
“Too late? Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes, now may I please tell you what is on my mind?”
“OK,” she sighed, “but this had better be important at this hour!”
“Beverly, I love you!”
“I’m coming over; let me get my medical…” She suddenly paused with shock when the realization of what he had said dawned on her. “What did you say?”
“I said I love you, Beverly.”
“Jean-Luc, do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that?”
“Would you believe me, if I said I did?”
“We need to talk in person,” she stated. “I’ll be over in a minute.”
“No, I’ll come over there. Give me a minute.”
“OK,” she agreed, and then quickly added, “Jean-Luc, I love you too.”
To Beverly’s surprise, Jean-Luc had managed to beam over to her quarters.
After Jean-Luc materialized he hurriedly approached her, threw his arms around her, and kissed her passionately.
When the kiss ended, Beverly breathlessly asked, “How did you manage to beam over?”
“Being an admiral has its privileges,” he smiled.
“Do you have any idea what day it is?”
“Christmas?”
“Yes,” she smiled.
“Merry Christmas, Beverly!”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Jean-Luc!”
“I don’t have a gift for you,” Jean-Luc informed her.
“Yes, you do and you’ve just given it to me.”
“What was that?”
“The words I’ve longed to hear you say.”
“And I meant every word!” He told her and then kissed her passionately once more.
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