They've never talked about it, what happened to him after he was captured by the Cardassians. Beverly always suspected that Jean-Luc had told Troi everything that had happened and she never faulted him for not also telling her. Deanna was their counselor; listening to stories like this and helping people through the trauma was her job. At the time, Beverly would never have pushed about it, either. Admittedly, she's hesitant to do so now and the only real reason she thinks she might now is to help him deal with reliving the trauma.

So she approaches, sorrow written plainly across her face. For all that she knows this is more about him and his comfort than hers, she can't help but feel at least partly responsible for him having been left in the Cardassians' care. Worf had wanted to go back for him, but she'd told him that they couldn't help him if they were captured as well. The words were absolutely true, of course, and Beverly knows that well; still the guilt wraps around her, even as she stops in front of him now.

"Jean-Luc," she says softly, her voice full of emotions that she can't quite put words to. For the first time in a long time, she doesn't quite know what to say. A dozen options flash through her mind, each more outlandish than the last. Eventually, she settles on the part that's eating at her more than the rest. "I told Worf not to go back for you, that we couldn't help you if we got captured, too. Maybe he was right. Maybe we could've saved you from that experience if we'd just tried."

None of this is about her and she isn't even remotely trying to insert her own importance into anything about it. This is about her captain, her best friend, and a slim chance that she and Worf could have saved him from torture at the hands of the Cardassians.