Title: Watching
Author: Kathryne, chastity_daze@yahoo.ca
Rating: PG
Archive: Ask first, please.
Disclaimer: Star Trek and all associated characters and situations belong to
Paramount. This little snippet of time belongs to me.
Written April 2002.
Will write for feedback.
Takes place during the second season episode "The Child."
*
So I'll come by
and see you again
I'll be such a very good friend
Have mercy on my soul
I will never let you know
Where my mind has been
- "Angels Will Fall," Melissa Etheridge
He had never really thought of himself as a family man. Perhaps because of his own strained relationship with his father, perhaps because of his career-oriented mindset, or perhaps because of the risky nature of that career, being responsible for another being had never been part of William Riker's vision of the future. As he stood just outside the doorway to sickbay, however, he felt an ache deep within him, a hollow place that seemed to be calling out for something. Watching Deanna for the past day, seeing her swell with child, he had *wanted* so badly...
Wanted to share the love that lit in her eyes when she spoke of the child. Wanted to be the first one to know when she felt a kick. Wanted to draw her back against his chest, encircle her in his arms, and caress the gently rounding curve of her abdomen.
He wanted to be the father. He had finally let himself realize that when, sitting on the bridge, he had heard Pulaski contact Picard. "Troi is in labour," the doctor had said crisply, and Will had stiffened in his seat. Emotions flashed through him so quickly that he could barely name them all - worry, jealousy, fear - but overall, the desire to be with Deanna. He turned in his seat to look at Picard. A nod from the captain was all he needed, and Will was into the turbolift almost before Picard finished acknowledging Pulaski.
Will pulled himself back to the present and approached the entrance to Sickbay. The doors slid open and he peered inside before entering, taken aback by the level of activity he could see deeper in the bay. He made his way towards the semi-private room, his steps slowed by the sight of Worf and two other security officers; they served as a reminder that what Deanna was going through was by no means normal. As he got closer to the doorway, he could hear Pulaski speaking words of encouragement.
He reached the door and looked in.
The first emotion he felt was a rush of pure jealousy, sparked by the sight of Data's golden hand clutched in Deanna's small one. The android stood next to Deanna, and her face was turned towards him, away from where Will leaned against the doorjamb. Every fibre of Will's soul cried out that *he* should be the one standing next to Deanna, *he* should be the one comforting her.
Deanna turned towards him then, unseeing, and the jealousy was gone, drowned in a wave of wonder and love. He didn't announce his presence, feeling a little unnecessary, but more than that, not wanting to disturb the scene in front of him. He watched in awe as the woman he loved struggled in the birthing chair. His eyes never left Deanna's face, and although she wasn't aware he was there, he fancied that he could feel the joy she felt, the joy that was painted so clearly on her face.
Then she gasped once, harshly, and the unmistakeable cry of a newborn baby echoed through the room. Will watched, and was stricken to the core as Deanna's face transformed, amazement and happiness and astonishment rippling like the sun's rays from within her and illuminating her eyes. She reached her arms out and accepted the tiny infant, holding him close and cooing to him. Will vacillated at the door, not sure whether to enter or to leave quietly.
He had almost decided to slip away unseen when Pulaski's voice caught him. "Do you have a name?" the crusty doctor asked, her voice gentler than Will would have credited her with being. He was pinned to the floor then, remembering years past, when he and Deanna had talked about the future. Nothing that they had talked about had come to pass, and rarely did Will let himself even think about the deep conversations they had shared. But now...
"Ian Andrew," Deanna answered, "after my father."
At that, Will was drawn into the room. Deanna looked up as he entered, and a soft smile creased her face. "Were you there all along?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"Of course," Will replied. Where else could I be? he thought to himself as he looked at the child. "He's beautiful, Deanna," he said. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss on her cheek. "Just like his mother," he added sincerely.
Deanna returned her attention to Ian, and Will turned away, using all the mental discipline that Deanna had ever taught him to keep his emotions in check. The last thing he needed was for Deanna to sense the waves of love that he knew were rolling through him. He walked out of Sickbay, away from the woman he loved and the child he so desperately wished was his.
He walked away, because he knew that if he stayed, he wouldn't be able to tear himself from the presence of the tiny bundle that bore a name he'd first heard so long ago, a name that, he now realized, he'd wanted - expected! - his own son to bear.
Ian Andrew...
Watching the look on Deanna's face as she'd pronounced the name had shattered a suddenly unprotected piece of Will's heart.
So he stopped watching. And he walked away.
