United



  United

  By Alina Wood

  Copyright 2015 Alina Wood

  Grief is a curious thing, she thought. It had the power to both unite people, or single handedly tear them apart. She remembered years ago when her father had died, that it had brought her and mother together, even though at the time she didn't fully understand.

  She had been playing in the backyard with her friend, whose older brother watched them as asked by her mother. After an hour, she had become thirsty, and went inside to ask her mother for some water. But she stopped when she saw her mother with her back turned to her, putting her father's things in a box. She could swear she heard her mother sniffling. "Mommy?" she asked, her mother startled and stopped, "what are you doing?" Her mother's hands wiped at her cheeks before she turned around. She recalled that her mother had turned around with red-rimmed eyes.

  "Nothing, darling," her mother answered with a less than convincing smile, "go back outside." Her mother had turned around, but she didn't move.

  "But those are Daddy's things," she said.

  Her mother sighed wearily, "Please, Little One, go outside."

  "But he'll need them when he gets home."

  Her mother's head dropped, and she heard her mother call out telepathically to the boy outside that it was time for him and his sister to go home. Her mother turned to her and sat in chair. She stretched out her arms to her, "Deanna, darling, come here."

  She obliged and climbed into her mother's lap. "Baby, Daddy isn't coming back." Deanna's brow had furrowed, "But Daddy wouldn't just leave us. He wouldn't leave his things." Her mother pressed her face into her hair, "No, you're right, Little One, he wouldn't. And I know," her voice had begun to break, "he didn't want to leave." She looked her mother in the eyes, which were now overflowing with tears, "Then why did he leave?"

  "Oh, honey," she began, "you know how Daddy's work sometimes means he has to go places, and sometimes those places are dangerous." Deanna nodded. "Daddy got hurt." Deanna remembered getting scared, and not really wanting to ask the next question, "Is he alright?" Her mother shook her head, "No, baby, no, he's not. He was hurt very badly, and the doctors couldn't help him. He died, baby." Tears began falling down her cheeks, and she sat in her mother's lap for what seemed like ages while they both cried.

  Nearly thirty years later, grief had brought them together again, but in a way Deanna had never expected. She knew something had been wrong the moment her mother nearly fell to pieces for no apparent reason. Her mother had blamed it on her ambassadorial duties, but Deanna could feel that it much more than that, and it terrified Deanna when her mother suddenly lapsed into a coma because of it. Even more terrifying was the thought of losing her mother. Eventually, with some help from Maques, Deanna was able to find out what had happened to her mother.

  It had been a lot to take in that she'd had a sister who died while she was baby. Her mother had repressed her feelings of grief and guilt for so long, that she could not face the truth when Maques' daughter reminded her of her eldest daughter.

  In the seventy-two hours since she'd learned of Kestra, Deanna's mother had told her enough that she felt as though she had known her sister. Lwaxana's greatest wish had been that her daughters had been able to grow up together, and had said as much when Deanna asked to be told about her. Deanna had enjoyed learning about Kestra, especially the story of how she had one day taken one of Lwaxana's wigs and dresses and worn them about the house saying, "I am a daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed!" Though, stories like this barely scratched the surface of what Lwaxana still had to tell Deanna about her sister.

  And it was during one particularly entertaining story of Kestra playing hide and seek with the dog, that Lwaxana stopped when she noticed that Deanna, while enjoying the story, was deeply saddened by it. But Lwaxana couldn't ascertain why, because this sadness was not provoked by Deanna not knowing her sister. It was something else.

  Deanna didn't completely realize it herself, and questioned why her mother had stopped telling the story, leading Lwaxana to finish the story. Though she decided to leave it at that for now. She needed a little time to collect herself before telling her daughter more about Kestra. "I understand," Deanna said.

  Something about that statement rubbed Lwaxana the wrong way. How could Deanna possibly understand this?

  She blinked at her daughter. "What?"

  Deanna had gotten up from her seat and gone over to the replicator to get some tea. She turned and looked quizzically at her mother. Her mother had heard her and she knew it. "I said that I understand," Deanna said. Lwaxana stood, "How? How do you understand?" Deanna looked at her, surprised at how her mother was responding. "You've never been a mother, Deanna. How could you possibly understand what it's like to lose one and not talk about it for so long?" Feelings of anger swelled within Deanna, surprising Lwaxana, "I understand perfectly, Mother!"

  Her mother looked at her, and Deanna tried to say something else, but no sound came, vocally or telepathically. She turned and left the room, almost running into Will in the process. "Deanna? Are you alright?" he asked, but she pushed past him without a word. He peeked into the room, Lwaxana looked dumbfounded, "Mrs. Troi, is everything okay?"

  She looked at Will, "Um, I'm not sure." He entered the room, "May I ask what happened?" She nodded and explained.

  "Ah," Will said.

  "I didn't mean to get upset with her, but even so, I don't understand how she could understand, or what could've prompted her to get so upset." Will nodded, "You know, Mrs. Troi, your daughter is a lot more like you than she'd care to admit."

  Lwaxana was quiet and watched Will leave. What did that mean? Little One, she said telepathically, I'm sorry. There was no answer. Little One?

  I know, Deanna answered after a moment.

  Deanna sat in Ten Forward staring at her drink. She'd been there for about an hour composing herself. She had realized not long after she had left her mother's room that she had never told her mother what had happened five years earlier. As she thought about it, she realized she really hadn't spoken to anyone about it since it happened. She sighed, and left to go back to her quarters.

  She opened her closet door and looked at the box on the floor. She knelt down and opened it. After five years, it still smelled like him. The door chimed, "Come in." Will entered, "Hey, you doing ok?" She looked up at him and sighed, "Not really." "Your mother told me what happened. You never told her." She looked at him, "No. Did you?"

  "No, Izmadi," he answered, "it's not my place."

  "Thank you. I was debating whether or not to tell her just yet. I don't want to make this about me, but she needs to know she's not alone. I do understand."

  He smiled and knelt down next her, and took the blanket she had been holding. He folded it and put it back in the box. "You should probably go see her then," he stood," I'm pretty sure the Captain said she's been looking for you for the last twenty minutes." Deanna chuckled, and Will helped her up. He picked up the box and gave it to her. He read the named written finely on it.

  IAN ANDREW TROI II

  He kissed her cheek and left. She stood there and sighed, Mother, Mother, where are you?

  Deanna! There you are, I've been looking for you, her mother answered.

  I know, Mother. Go back to you quarters. I'll meet you there. I need to tell you something.

  What do you need to tell me?

  I need to tell you about Ian.

  Ian?

  Deanna exhaled deeply before entering her mother's quarters, holding the box in front of her. Her mother watched her come in, a quizzical look on her face when she saw the box.

  She stood in front of her mother, "Mother, you said I've never been mother. You're wrong." She set the box down on the coffee table. Her mother read the name on th
e box, "Ian Andrew Troi II." She looked to Deanna, who sat down next to her.

  "Mother, this is all I have left of your grandson."

  Lwaxana gaped at her. "Grandson?"

  Deanna nodded.

  Lwaxana opened the box. Inside was a blanket which sat on top of some clothing and pictures of a boy. Pictures of the boy before he had been born, when he was a newborn in his mother's arms, when he was four years old, and when he was eight. Lwaxana was shocked to see the picture of him as a newborn. It was Deanna holding him. She looked to Deanna who was wiping a stray tear away. "I don't understand."

  "I got pregnant five years ago."

  "Why didn't I know?"

  "It wasn't a normal pregnancy. It lasted all of two days. I felt no pain while I was in labor."

  "No pain?" How'd she manage that? Lwaxana had screamed her head off both vocally and telepathically while giving birth to Kestra and Deanna.

  "None. Afterwards Dr. Pulaski said that it had been as though it never happened. If it weren't for the fact that it was witnessed and documented, there would be no proof that I ever had him."

  "What happened?"

  "In one day, he had gone from newborn to four year old." She pointed to the picture of the boy as a four year old. Lwaxana looked at the picture. The boy had the characteristically dark eyes and dark curly hair of Betazoids. Deanna pointed to the picture of him as an eight year old.

  "By the next day he had aged to eight years old," she sighed, "at the time, we were transporting contagions to a research facility to be studied for vaccines. Ian was emitting radiation that caused one of the samples to begin growing. Eventually, it would've breached its containment unit and infected the ship. He knew he was a danger to the ship, and allowed himself to die."

  Lwaxana's eyes were filling with tears, "What about the father?"

  "Will's first question was about who the father was, too. The truth is, Mother, there was no father." Her mother looked at her, "Well, then how'd you get pregnant?"

  "Like I said. It wasn't normal. He was a life-force entity. Becoming one of us was his way of understanding us. But he was still my son."

  "Why did you never tell me?"

  "Same reason you didn't talk about Kestra, I suppose. I didn't want to remember. I realized after you told me I'd never been a mother, that I'd never really talked to anyone about Ian after he died. But you needed to know that I do really understand. I stood over him as helplessly as you did Kestra. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

  Lwaxana kissed Deanna's forehead. Don't be, Little One.

  "You wish that I'd known Kestra. I wish you'd known him."

  Lwaxana smiled, "I've spent the last few days telling you about your sister. I think it's your turn to tell me about my grandson."

  "I don't have much to go on. I only had him for a matter of days."

  "Trust me, that's all you need," Lwaxana said, she smiled, "why don't start with where you got his name?" Deanna started to smile as her mother continued, "I can't fathom where you got such a name. I'm sure your father would've loved it." Deanna laughed, and began going through the box with her mother.

  AUTHOR'S NOTE

  This is a short story based on two episodes from Star Trek: The Next Generation, The Child and Dark Page. It always kind of bugged me that in all of the episodes featuring Lwaxana Troi after Deanna had her son, that there was never any indication given that Lwaxana knew she had a grandson. So, I give to you my take on how she found out. The story begins just after the events of Dark Page. Enjoy.

  Thank you Majel Barrett Roddenberry and Marina Sirtis. You made a great mother/daughter duo and I wish we could've seen more.