Sometimes 'Sorry' Doesn't Cut It

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story, I know, it's sad.

Imzadi fic

- - - - -

"Now, before either of you say anything, you need to know all the facts," Doctor Crusher continued before Will or Deanna could say anything.

Deanna lie on her back, on the bed in the private recovery room in Sickbay. Will sat behind her, with his legs folded, and her head resting on his lap. He held her hand in one of his and fiddled with a few strands of her hair with the other. The look of excitement and joy that had just been on their faces had been quickly replaced by one of fear and concern.

"Deanna, because of your current condition, I can't make very good estimates," Beverly sighed. She hated bad news, especially when she had to give it to a friend.

Deanna was currently recovering from an alien virus which she had contracted on an away mission about a month ago. The virus was causing her body to slowly shut down all its organs. So far, they had found no cure.

"This pregnancy is going to be extremely difficult; there is no doubt of that. Even if we find a cure; recovery is going to be long and strenuous. With the nature of this condition, the longer it takes to cure you, the longer it will take for you to recover. You have to consider the serious possibility that you will not be recovered enough for labor." Beverly paused as she watched Will stare at her in unimaginable fear, and Deanna closed her eyes; as if to shut out the reality.

"Even with a cesarean or fetal transport . . . labor could kill you both."

Deanna clenched her eyes shut and tears dripped from her eyes. She reached for Will's other hand and he gave it to her without hesitation. He couldn't bear to see her crying face. He just held her hands tightly, tears beginning to face from his own face; mingling depressingly with hers.

"But, with the damage to your internal structure, if you ever wanted a child, now might be the only chance," Beverly informed them with the same even tone she'd been using.

"Just what are you trying to tell us!" Will lashed out angrily.

"I'm trying to give you all the facts!" Beverly shouted.

She took a deep breath. This wasn't Will's fault; he had the right to be angry. "I'm sorry, Will," she said quietly before continuing. "I want you to make an informed decision. Cure or no cure: the pregnancy is going to be difficult. You might miscarry, you probably won't carry to term, and labor and delivery could kill you both. But, this may be your only chance for a child.

"I'll leave you to your decision." Beverly turned from her friends, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Deanna sat up and threw herself into Will's arms. She cried onto his shoulder.

"I know, Deanna," he whispered in her ear. He held her as she shook with tears. "It'll be okay. We'll get through this." He gently rubbed her back, soothing her. "We always get through everything."

"What do we do, Will?" she asked, truly frightened for the first time in her life.

- - -

Once the initial shock wore off, Will and Deanna began discussing their options. 'I can't live without you,' he'd say. So she'd choose to not have the baby. 'But we want a baby,' he reminded her.

"What do you want?" she finally asked, so frustrated she could hardly breathe.

"I don't know," he breathed, tightening his grip on her hand.

"A friend of mine always said 'Take the chance.' I think we should take the chance."

Will nodded. "I love you, Imzadi. Never forget that."

Her grip on his hand tightened. "I never will," she whispered.

- - -

Doctor Crusher's emotions were unreadable when Deanna told her that she was going through with the pregnancy. Beverly began as much pre-natal care as medically possible.

She told them that Betazoid/Human pregnancies run thirty to forty weeks. She also told them she doubted it would run twenty-eight.

Will noticed the lack of response from Beverly during their talk with her so he caught her outside Deanna's room.

"You think we made the wrong decision," he stated bluntly.

"I do," she replied in the same tone he'd used to question her.

"Why?"

"As a Doctor my answer would be that there are other options to have a child for couples such as you and Deanna, and my duty is to my patient," she replied formally. "But as your friend I say Deanna's life is more important. If you didn't do this she'd have ten to twelve months; most likely.

"With this pregnancy, she might get seven. Might. I can't even give a good guess. But I know what Deanna will say, this is about your life," she pointed to Will. "This is about the two of you and your life together. Either this happens or doesn't, because 'Imzadi is forever', and the Betazoids believe in an afterlife.

"So what I think doesn't matter." Beverly had gotten increasingly worked up and ended talking quite quickly and emotionally.

"I'm sorry, Beverly. But I do agree with Deanna, there has to be an afterlife, or else, none of this matters."

- - -

Will spent every moment he could with Deanna. As a result her mind remained strong, and the rest of her body deteriorated slower than previously expected. But as the pregnancy advanced; Deanna got worse, and fast. Beverly did everything she could, but when twenty-six weeks rolled around, it didn't matter.

Will was sitting with Deanna, as usual, discussing baby names when Deanna cried out in pain. "Don't die," Will told her when he realized she was in labor. She managed a weak smile and a nod. Beverly and Will coached her through eight contractions.

The ninth killed her.

He felt her soul leave her body, because it ripped out of his as well. He tried to hold on to her. "Don't leave!" he cried in his mind.

"Let me go," he heard her soft voice in his head, surprisingly calm and serene. "I'm sorry, Imzadi."

He backed to into a wall and sunk to the floor. He was alone, after all these years, he was alone. He couldn't feel her, she was gone, and he was alone. Will wanted to die. He didn't want to live without her. She was his universe.

Will wanted to die.

"Let's go people!" Beverly yelled as nurses ran around, gathering things. We don't have much time! Let's move!"

Will didn't understand what was going on until he noticed Beverly was holding a baby. A baby girl. His baby girl. She was tiny, even for a Betazoid baby, and he loved her instantly. She wasn't too much bigger than his forearm, but she had black Betazoid hair and Deanna's nose. She looked so much like Deanna.

Will wanted to live again.

"Kalila," he whispered.

Beverly placed the baby girl in a small isolation bed. Will brought his chair up next to her. "It means 'beloved', my little Kalila. It's what Deanna would have wanted."

Will fell asleep next to his brand new daughter; the only thing that now kept him holding on to the sad existence he now called 'my life'. He was awoken by klaxons and alarms in Sickbay. "Deanna!" he bolted upright before remembering. Remembering that she was gone from his mind for the rest of his living days.

Doctor Crusher rushed over and started administering different medications and treatments to Kalila. After about a minute of loud over activity, there was a solemn silence. "I'm sorry, Will. Time of Death: 2041."

Will sat in Sickbay for a long time, in an eerie silence created by the loved ones he lost in one night. Finally Beverly sent his to his quarters with a sedative.

- - -

THREE WEEKS LATER

Deanna's body, along with their daughter's, were sent home to Betazed. All of their friends were at the funeral. Lwaxana did a lot of crying. Will just sat quietly in a corner, nearly the entire time.

It wasn't until they were back on the Enterprise that everyone noticed how different it was without her. Especially Will, nothing was the same, life was a dark abyss that he couldn't find a way out of.

-

Will sat in his quarters, staring at a picture of Deanna. "I love you, Imzadi. Never forget that," he whispered into the very empty darkness of his quarters.

-

BRIDGE

"Sir, there has been an unauthorized phaser fired on Deck Eight, Section Four Gamma."

When they reached Will's quarters, he sat in a chair; a picture of Deanna in his left hand, a phaser in his right.

- - - - / - - - -

Fin