Both Sides of the Mirror by BEKi (PG-13)

[idella]

This is my final TNG rec for the month. If you've been reading along, I hope you've enjoyed the ride as much as I have.

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Fandom: STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION
Pairing: Riker/Troi
Length: 23 000 words
Author on LJ: unknown
Author Website: Her Riker/Troi fic is archived here
Why this must be read:

One of the reasons Star Trek's Mirror Universe (MU) is so fascinating is the glimpses it gives us of our good guys being unrelentingly bad. Fans were never lucky enough to see the MU filmed with TNG characters, but fiction, both professional and fannish, exists to compensate for this oversight.

"Both Sides of the Mirror" is my favourite take on the TNG MU because of its focus on characters over technology. In it, the Mirror!Riker slowly comes to realize that he's transported into a world very different from his own. As he struggles with this realization, our crew come to learn some very unsettling truths about their Mirror counterparts. It turns out the two Rikers have in fact switched places, and the trouble really starts when the Mirror!Riker finds our existence so comfortable that he refuses to return to his own.

BEKi's Rikers are more fleshed-out and likable than the aired version ever was, and even with the focus on the Riker/Troi relationship, I think this is plotty enough to have gen appeal. Definitely give this a try if you like good plotting, sharp characterizations, and lots and lots of angst.

The movement around him was frantic. He felt it more than saw it. Though his eyes were open, they could focus on nothing. Light and dark...dancing whorls of shadow...blue...black...gold-red hair that floated on his skin.

"You're going to be all right, Will. Everything is going to be all right."

He tried to turn toward the voice, but it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. The barrage of sound lay muffled behind layers and layers of absorbent silence. Metal clattered on metal. Voices called to one another. They called to him.

The motion of bodies disturbed the air.

Fingers brushed along his face, tracking ice in their wake. "You're going to be okay," she assured him again.

It sounded like Beverly Crusher.

That, of course, was ludicrous. Whoever scurried around him was frantic to save him. He could feel it in the way she touched him, the way she talked to him even when he couldn't discern individual words.

Pain bled grudgingly away. The pressure in his head became less crippling. Again, the woman ran fingers along his face. They lingered near his lips. She smiled encouragement and reminded him to live.

He found her eyes. They were eyes he remembered. They were Beverly Crusher's eyes.

Riker tried to speak, to protest, but he couldn't. The fingers of sedation rooted out his urge to escape and quelled it. He stared at her in dumb, helpless horror.

Eyes he knew.

Eyes he did not know.

She smiled, and Riker realized then that the nightmare was only beginning.

Both Sides of the Mirror