Work Text
“He’s out?” Jean-Luc asks, pulling up a chair beside his husband. “Yes,” Data indicates the email on the computer screen, “He has asked to stay with us until he can find a permanent home.” “I see. How do you feel about that?” “My feelings—if I were capable of them—would be irrelevant: we are not currently living at home and it would be inappropriate for him to stay at our house unsupervised.” “But Lore is your brother.” Jean-Luc protests. “That may be, but he has a long history of criminality. Need I remind you of his actions that lead to the prison sentence in the first place?” “I’ve not forgotten that he was convicted of three counts of murder, but he’s your brother, Data. The only family you have.” “And he is a manipulative serial killer.” “Data,” Jean-Luc strokes the back of the Android’s neck affectionately, “I lost my own closest relatives in a tragic accident last year and I very much regret pushing them out of my life in the way I did. Family is too precious and I don’t want you to have similar misgivings after it’s too late.” “I am sorry for your loss, Jean-Luc,” Data pushes his rolling chair back on its casters and stands; he does not raise his voice, but there is an edge to it, “Your family and mine are very different. Do not project your grief for your brother and nephew onto my relationship with Lore.” “I too found many of Robert’s personality traits frustrating when he was alive.” Jean-Luc is not yet ready to give up. “You speak to me as if I have not experienced the loss of a close family member.” Data’s tone is calm, measured. “I had a child who lived only a few weeks. The memory of her passing is with me every moment, and you lecture me on loss?” He turns and walks out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Jean-Luc leans on the desk, head in his hands, listening to his husband’s receding footsteps on the stairs. “I’m sorry. I really messed up.” He mumbles too late.