The BLTS Archive - Forever
by irisbud (irisbud_01@yahoo.com)

---

AN: This story takes place in the context of the book
"Resistance". This story is done on the pretext that
Beverly perished while carrying out her mission. Loosely
based on "Forever" by Vertical Horizon

I don't own ST:TNG, nor do I own "Forever " by Vertical
Horizon

--

She was gone. She could hardly believe it herself. She sat
on the edge of the bed they had only so recently shared,
moved, somehow, even in her ethereal state that he had left
her side just as it had been, as though in the hope that
leaving her space unmolested would somehow prompt her
return.

Only now could she see all that they could have been, all
that they could have had. Some part of her wished that they
had taken the chance earlier. It was the regret that bound
her now to the living space that they had shared, the regret
that made it impossible for her to move on and left her
lingering in a nowhere that was somehow neither here nor
there.

She had let down her defenses and allowed him in, allowed
herself to feel the things that she had denied for so very
long. Since their first meeting, in fact. She hadn't
recognized those stirrings for what they had been then, of
course, for she had been bound to Jack. Her lack of
acknowledgement had done nothing to make them any less real.

If only she had allowed herself to love him sooner. If only,
together, they could have cast aside the mantle of Jack's
ghost that had hung between them; a shroud making their
feelings seem somehow uncomfortable and inappropriate. They
had both loved him so. If only they could have realized the
depth that such feelings had ultimately added to their bond
rather than shying away from the possible downfalls for so
long.

He was laying awake now. She wanted nothing more than to
reach out and touch his face, to comfort him. Somehow, she
felt that the touch of death would be anything but a
comfort. Even so, she couldn't bring herself to leave him.
There were so many things she still wanted to do here, so
many things she still wanted to say. If she could only have
but another day.

She wondered if she would still be able to watch over him if
she moved on. She didn't have much time to choose now, and
the moments were dwindling. She feared that there would be
nothing should she go on, but what was there should she
remain? She could see him, hear him, but never touch him or
speak with him. She stared into those piercing steel eyes,
trying to memorize every last detail; trying to forget the
way she had seen them in her last living moments, trying to
forget the eyes of Locutus.

How long did forever last? She couldn't think about it,
couldn't comprehend it. Her throat constricted as she
thought about what lay beyond and where she was going. If
only she could go with him, but it was a fate she would not
wish upon him. If they could only undertake the journey
together, carrying one another through.

He would still be with her, she knew, but it would never be
the same. He was a part of her, a slice of her soul that
could never be tarnished, as she was for him. Somehow,
knowing she would live on in his memory as she had truly
been was of some comfort to her.

She needed him now, more than ever. Somehow, she had never
been so distant, yet never felt so close. She had watched
him as he had grieved for his losses, and had been moved by
the depth of his pain. She would give anything to comfort
him, anything to ease his terrible pain.

He blamed himself for her death, just as he had blamed
himself for the loss of Jack. She wished she could tell him
that both incidents had been accidents and nothing more. He
had done what was right in both cases and in so many more
over the years and she felt proud of him for doing what was
right, always. She wished that she could somehow convey to
him that, in this, he had always been the most true and
loyal of friends.

She hoped that he would continue to be the same, always. She
wished that fate would allow him to forever be the man that
she loved and that nothing would change him. In that way,
all that they had been could live on. He had so changed her
and, even in death, would never leave her.

She could read the pain in his eyes now; hear his soul
crying out to her, though he made no noise. As always, she
could hear the song inside his heart and know what he felt.
She wished that she could let him know, wished that she
could be the light of hope for him, wished that she could
make it better.

She studied him once again, straining to hear words he would
not say, longing to listen to the melodious sound of his
voice just once more before she had to go. She would
remember it always, just as she would remember him always.

The time was nearing now. She could feel herself beginning
to fade, becoming ever more a part of a place that she had
never been. She was filled with a cold, gripping sense of
dread. He turned towards the spot where she waited, almost
as though he could sense her fear.

Though his eyes never looked directly upon her, she knew
that, somehow, he had been moved by her. He touched the
pillow she had only so recently lay upon while she had still
be warm and alive, and whispered of his love for her.

"And I you, Jean Luc," she whispered in a reply that would
never be heard. "Forever."

--

He couldn't believe that she was gone. They had only just
forged ahead, only just begun to live the life they had
denied one another for so long. He felt as though he had
just found peace and happiness within his soul, emotions
that had eluded him for longer than he cared to admit.

He felt raw inside. Locutus had found a way to thwart him
again. Though he would never return, he would be forever be
haunted by the creature. He had caused her death. He had
watched her die at the hands of the Borg Queen, and had
screamed a primal scream that had never escaped his lips,
for they had been controlled by Locutus, who, of course had
cared nothing for her. Locutus was incapable of caring.

She had fulfilled her mission. The worst of all threats was
forever vanquished in large part because of her efforts. He
was himself again, and would be forevermore. On the inside,
though, he doubted he would ever be whole again.

He needed her now, more than ever, for with her alone he
could dare to be weak. He needed her to hold him, to comfort
him, to bring him back from the abyss. Though he had lived
without her for so long, she had always been there. The
sight of her had always served to stanchion his courage, to
strengthen his resolve, though she had never known.

He knew she would forever be with him, forever be a part of
him, but he still felt as though he were being torn asunder
by pain. He lay back on his pillows, wondering how he would
go one, how he would proceed from one day to the next. He
had done so before, and would doubtlessly do so again, but
this night seemed the worst he had ever faced. He felt as
though dawn would never come.

A part of him felt as though she were near him, still
watching over him, still offering him her loving and
support, still needing him, but always giving him what he
needed in return.

She was here no longer, he knew. He looked over to the side
of the bed that she had occupied just the night before. In
his heart he could still hear the sound of her breathing. He
touched her pillow as though to smooth back her coppery
hair. "I love you, Beverly," he whispered. "God, how I love
you."

For a moment, he allowed himself tears. She was really and
truly gone. Never again would she hold him close. Never
again would he feel her lips graze against his. The impish
smile that had first drawn him to her would forever be but a
memory, as would that inextinguishable light in her ice blue
eyes.

Still, though, she would be with him always. He would carry
her in his heart. He had done so for years previous, and
though it seemed more to ask now that he had been able to
share his feelings with her, he could do so again.

He heard her whisper softly in his ear, sharing a private
moment with him, her tone belaying more than her words would
ever say. He would forever remember the first conversation
he had held with her, his tongue tied in knots as he tried
desperately to remain proper and not say the wrong thing.

Most of all, he heard her whisper that she loved him. He
would forever remember the way that those words had made his
heart sing. He had heard the words before, but never had he
waited so very long for them, and never had they meant so
much. Somehow, he knew, that memory alone would carry him
through even the darkest hours before the dawn.

He allowed himself a slight, bittersweet smile as he
remembered her face in the way that was uniquely his own.
The face he saw when he looked upon her visage was always at
its most beautiful to him. Her face was an amalgamation of
every time he had ever looked upon her throughout the years.
He face wore makeup, was bare, shone with laughter, and wept
with grief all at the same time. Her hair was long, short,
and curled all at once in the memory he carried. Her face
was the face he had fallen in love with the very first
moment he had looked into her eyes. No one had ever seen her
face in the way he had, and no one ever would.

He smiled bitterly, tears still straining the corners of his
eyes. At least he had had but a short time in which he could
truly call her his own, though she had owned his heart for
more than thirty years, and he expected that she would
continue to do so until they were reunited in a place that
no course heading or warp speed could ever allow him to
reach.

She was be a part of him and he would continue to love her
all the same. Forever.

--

He would go with her, she knew as she faded into the unknown
and into nothingness, and he would carry her though on the
next phase of her journey, for even though they were
separated by a distance she would never be able to traverse,
she would continue to love him just the same. Forever.

---

The End