Title: “Sleeping Beauty”
Author: Christal
Fandom: Star Trek The Next Generation
Pairing: Not necessarily a pairing, but main characters are Troi/Riker
Rating: G-PG
Warnings: None really, and no spoilers either. Its just a drabble that
started from one bit of a dream I remembered.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters, paramount and Roddenbury does. I
only own the story idea.
Notes: Please forgive any mistakes. I didn’t think it was long enough to
warrant a big ordeal with acquiring a beta, so I just proofread over it a
couple of times. It was just a quick reflection piece that I wrote in the
span of 30 minutes.


Her world was drab and dreary, full of blacks and whites, grays and dull
blues. It had been this way for so long that she could no longer remember
life being sensual, full of energy and vitality. Sometimes she would notice
a splash of color, or hear a real sound… but the periods of time in-between
them were interminable.

The first time she ever walked through a garden, and the flowers were drab
and colorless, she had been shocked and horrified. Now, after years of
seeing shades of gray, it was a shock to see a pink rose, or a yellow
butterfly. The first time she heard another’s voice so crisp and clear, she
nearly wept.

She was constantly battling within herself. Should she get her hopes up?
Would she ever again see her beautiful, colorful world? Or would she be
taunted always by a color here, a sound there, or an emotion for a second?
Sometimes she lived to see that next bit of color, or maybe catch a melody.
But sometimes she cringed when she noticed a blur patch of sky, tempting her
with a world she could not have. Or it pained her to listen to an instrument
playing a song she no longer recognized. At those times she wanted to
succumb to the inevitable, to just go to sleep and never wake again.

Today was one of ‘those’ days. While walking down the street earlier she had
heard a child laughing, and she laughed along with him. Minutes ago she had
seen her drink turn yellow as she gently swirled it. It was a fascinating
sight, and yet it saddened her. This time though, she couldn’t shake the
feeling that things were changing. Her world seemed brighter. Not
necessarily more colors, or a consistency of sound, but the blacks and the
whites and the grays -- and all those depressing colors that followed her –
they were more vivid, with a bit of luster or shine to them. The air was
light and crisp, and today she actually felt a slight breeze. Something was
changing, and today she was happily being swept up in it.

She was sitting outside in a café, having lunch, when she saw him. He walked
up to her and smiled. He was familiar to her. She sensed that she should
know him even though she could not recall his name or where she had seen him
before. She noticed that she felt relaxed and comfortable with him, like an
old friend, or a lover.

At first glance he seemed to meld in with the grays and whites. As he sat
down across from her she began to doubt that he was different from the
normal, everyday scenery. She had started to blend the days now all into
one, he could just be one of the many lost images that all blurred together
for her.

He opened his mouth, but all she heard was a rumble, a muffled attempt at
speech that was nothing but background noise she heard everyday. She tuned
him out to concentrate on his face. Where had she seen him before? She was
convinced she should know who he was. She looked into his eyes… and gasped.
They were blue. The bluest shade of blue she could remember ever having
seen. And there was a sparkle in them that she vaguely recognized.

Then she noticed a sound. Concentrating, she realized he was softly
laughing. Slowly the world that was just her and this man became vividly

“Who are you?” she asked him.

She startled at the sound of her voice. She hardly talked anymore, who would
when there was no one to talk to.

She looked at him, waiting for an answer. He ignored her question.

“I’ll be waiting here for you,” he said.

The statement confused her. Why was he waiting for her, especially when he
was merely inches away? And more confusing was that his words had both
soothed and distressed her. She felt safe knowing he was there, and would be
there when the time came… but came for what? It distressed her because she
suddenly felt a sense of urgency. She felt a vague sense of time now, and
that it was running out. She knew that she could be with him is she just

He took her hand in his.

She jerked back from his touch. Touch? She could feel his hand. It was heavy
and bulky, and a little rough around the edges. But it was also smooth and
soft as his thumb caressed the palm of her hand, lulling her into a sense of

She focused in on their hands, trying to hold onto the texture. When he let
go she was filled with a feeling of dread… and a new purpose. She had to go
– to find him before it was too late.

Will sat by her bedside, hair tussled and eyes sunken and glazed over from
lack of sleep. He had her hand in his, and he had stopped talking to her for
hear of crying again. Behind him Dr. Crusher walked in a sighed.

“Will, you need to get some sleep.”

He looked at her, begging with his eyes for just a little more time. The
corners of her mouth rose in a sad smile, “Just one more hour with her. Her
vitals haven’t changed. She still hasn’t had any brain activity since last
week. You know the pattern; it’ll be at least another week or two before it
may happen again.”

“But I just keep thinking that maybe this time it’ll be different. That if I
talk just a little longer to her this time I’ll get through,” he whispered.

Beverly put her hand on his shoulder, “You need a shower and a good night’s
sleep in a bed. Doctor’s orders.”

Will shook his head. “One more hour and I’ll go. I promise.” He tried to
muster up a smile. “Thanks,” he said as she turned to leave them alone.

He turned back to the bed. She slept to peacefully, looking as if any minute
she would wake up and say his name. He lifted up his arm and reached out to
smooth the dark curls from her hair.

“I’m here waiting for you Deanna.”