Who: Beverly Crusher & Asala Adaar What: Beverly keeps a death bed vigil When: Very early Friday morning. Where: Recovery room, medical Warnings: NPC death
No one deserves to die alone. Beverly sits, his hand in her's. His name is Liam, and he worked at the warehouse. She's talked to him a few times, and he has kind eyes and a crooked smile. He has a daughter, but she's at Camp Jaha with her mother. He came to Mount Weather because he read what stories he could on the Ark, and the idea of these new people fascinated him. Beverly hopes that they lived up to his expectations.
The room is quiet, and she remembers other death-bed vigils she's held, remembers the one she hopes was held for Jack, remembers the promise she made that she would be a comforting presence to those who near their end. She can do this, because she can also bring life into the world. She is a doctor, and she has the ability to save people, to keep them whole in spirit and in body. She does this because no one deserves to die alone. There are beeps, the artificial signs of life as a machine breaths for Liam, the steady rush of air in and out, the hum of the lights above. There isn't much morphine to spare, but she spares enough for him, to make his end easier, a little less painful.
Beverly talks, thanking Liam for everything he's done, telling him about Wesley and Jack, about the Enterprise, about her Nana's house and the memories she has there. She tells him that this is only the beginning, that when he exits this life, there is surely another waiting for him somewhere else, without pain.
Liam's breath becomes labored, even with the machine, his pulse erratic. He's gone now, in every way that matters: the electrodes stuck to his head measure no brain activity, and they haven't for a little while. Beverly turns off the machines, unplugs them, and she holds Liam's hand as he stops breathing, as the life that is left in him flutters away.
Beverly sits alone in a dim room, after all the danger is passed, all the surgeries done, and she weeps.