Desperate Measures
By: SherryGabs
Rating: PG (R for first part)
Summary: Will doesn't take Deanna and Worf's relationship very well.
Warnings: Angst, some bad language, crudeness, lots of awful things said.
Thoughts of death. Most of this is in the first part.
Disclaimer: Paramount and the forces that be own them. I wish I did, but
afterward they'd need some serious counseling;)
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Part 1
With a polite "good evening" to Captain Picard and a brief warm smile aimed at Lieutenant Worf, Counselor Deanna Troi stepped into the turbolift from the bridge at the end of her duty shift. She turned around and stood straight with satisfaction as the doors closed in front of her. She'd deliberately ignored Will Riker on her way off the bridge, though she was sure his eyes were on her back.
"Deck eight."
She would not give attention to his petty jealousies..... Just yet.
Six weeks earlier she and Worf had begun a romantic relationship. Deanna knew Will thought it a fling that wouldn't last. But his tone soon changed when it looked like this 'fling' was lasting far longer than he figured it would. She knew she should feel guilty about allowing Will to stew the way she had been, but at the same time she got a devilish pleasure out of putting him 'in his place'. Letting him know that her universe didn't revolve around him and that she could have a life of her own without him. Not that she really wanted that, of course.
As she walked down the corridor to her quarters, Deanna smiled to herself. No, she didn't want Will Riker out of her life. Not by a long shot. And she was ready to admit it.
You see, she and Worf had broken off with each other four days ago. The day after the first time they'd made love. If you could call it 'making love'. She had expected Worf to be a little aggressive in his technique, had expected it and had willingly engaged with him. But she hadn't expected him to be *that* aggressive. He was like a rabid targ. When she awoke the next morning, every muscle aching and more bruises, scrapes and bites than she could count, Deanna got the worst case of 'second thoughts' in recorded history. Even Worf had been surprised at how easily she had been damaged. After a time of contemplation and a talk between Worf and herself, they both agreed their relationship wouldn't work out. Their species were just too different. They loved each other to a degree, but it wasn't worth the literal pain on her part.
And Worf wasn't without his own doubts. Not only didn't he want to inflict Deanna to the Klingon way of sex again, the only way he knew he was capable of; or the fact that he despised her incessant need to talk of emotions. He hated the fact that his friendship with Commander Riker had all but been destroyed over his affair with the counselor. He'd always considered the commander to be a good friend, a warrior brother. But he had dishonored that friendship over a woman. A woman he knew deep in his eight-chambered heart, could never really be his because she still had too many feelings for Riker. No matter how confused those feelings were. So he would do the honorable thing and step aside, and hopefully salvage that lost friendship.
Their parting was quite amicable. Their friendship would survive. What Deanna didn't think she'd survive was the embarrassment of having to go to sickbay and face Beverly that same morning. And if that wasn't bad enough, as she was exiting the turbolift nearest sickbay, the Enterprise's first officer just happened to walk by. It was hard to miss the bruises that poked out so lividly from the neckline of her uniform. But to Will's credit, he didn't say a word. He kept his expression neutral and continued on his way down the corridor. She thought his reaction strange. She had expected him to throw a fit. She thanked the gods for small favors and walked into sickbay. After a repair job and a lecture from Beverly, Deanna assured the doctor that it definitely would *not* happen again, thanked her and left.
It didn't take Deanna long to realize that she could love Will again. The way their Imzadi bond had always meant their love to be. If her relationship with Worf had shown her anything, it was that Will was still madly in love with her after all those years. The jealousy and pain had been written all over his face for most of the past six weeks. At first she had been very annoyed with it. He had no romantic hold on her. What right did he have to be jealous? After a while it became sort of a power trip for Deanna. She kinda liked seeing him squirm like that. The last three weeks he'd only seen or spoken to her or Worf when duty required it and he had completely blocked her out from being able to read his feelings.
In her quarters, Deanna went through her wardrobe. This evening, she would tell Will that she really did still care. That she'd never stopped loving him. She would make his mental block crumble and make him feel her sincerity.
"Oh, this ought to make Will drool!" she said to herself, picking a flattering outfit from her closet and eyeing it appraisingly. "Once he knows that it's over with Worf and that I want us to start over, he'll drop his shields so quick I'll be able to hear the clang." She laughed and draped the dress across the bed and headed into the bathroom for a bubble bath. "He never could stay angry at me."
She had never been more wrong.
*************
The first time Will saw Deanna and Worf enter Ten Forward together..... hand in hand; then take a table together and hold hands across it, he'd stared with wide-eyed astonishment. "What the hell?" he whispered. After a moment, he shook his head and chuckled. "A Klingon and Betazoid royalty? No way! It'll never work."
Two weeks later they were still a couple, and more chummier than ever. They were now spending most of their off-duty time together. Leaving Will alone or having to find company with other friends to fill the time that he and Deanna used to spend together. He was missing her companionship and becoming very concerned about how far this thing with Worf was going. Having to watch them together, showing affection so openly, made his stomach feel like a brick had taken up residence in it. He knew he was being jealous, but didn't care. Then he remembered what she'd told him a few years ago, when he'd once again tried to rekindle their old flame. She'd said, "Imzadi. No. Not while we're serving on the same ship..." Why had she changed her steadfast rule for Worf? Had she just been making up an excuse to not get serious with Will?
It hurt Will and made him angry that she would do that to him. Had she just given up on him, finally? Tired of watching him have short affairs with whomever he chose? Didn't she see that he hated being alone for very long? That he craved a warm, willing body next to his, wishing it could be his Imzadi's body. And that every time he was with another woman he had to force himself not to cry out Deanna's name in the heat of passion. Couldn't she understand that all those women meant nothing to him? They were just substitutes. With the exception of Soren, maybe. She was the only other one who had gotten close to his heart. But still not in the way Deanna had. For an empath, the counselor certainly couldn't, or maybe just wasn't, reading his emotions very well.
Maybe it *was* all his fault. Did his personal life disgust her? Maybe Deanna was still hurt and couldn't trust him enough after he'd failed to show up for their wedding so many years ago. He'd tried to assuage his guilt by telling himself that it was impossible for him to be there. He couldn't just up and leave his ship, they were so far away. Taking a shore leave to Risa was out of the question. Then why hadn't he just contacted her to set the date back? Explain the situation. She would have understood.
Or would she? Would she have just called him a coward? Accused him of not really loving her enough to commit, that his career was more important to him than her?
"No! I *did* love her enough! I did!" He buried his face in his hands, alone in his quarters.
He was tired. His mind too muddled to even try to remember that time correctly. It was past history anyway. He couldn't change what had already been done. 'Would she still hold that against me after all this time?' he wondered.
Over the next few weeks every aspect of Commander Riker's life crumbled in one way or another. Whatever hurt he was feeling over Deanna and Worf's continuing romance was being overridden by an anger that got more intense each day. He had closed Deanna off to his thoughts so tightly there was no chance of her breaking through. It was all he could do to work with the two of them, on the ship, or on away missions. He made no pretense at friendship with either of them. Only a cold, harsh professional attitude was displayed.
Problems maintaining the ship's daily functioning and his own stupid mistakes added to his problems. He knew his mind was deteriorating and it was affecting his duties. He was barely eating or sleeping. He'd been to sickbay too often lately for relief from tension headaches. Dr. Crusher could see he was suffering, but could get nothing from him to explain his condition. She had an inkling part of it had something to do with Deanna, so wouldn't suggest he see the counselor for advice; hoping things would work themselves out. Captain Picard had called him to his ready room twice to point out errors that could have proven disastrous. Suggesting strongly to his first officer that whatever problems he was having should be left off the bridge, and that the next infraction would not go unpunished. Hearing the strong disappointment in the captain's voice had cut Will deeply. He himself had always expected 100% from the crew in their jobs, and now he could barely manage to keep his own head above water.
His own self-recrimination added to his anger. It was like an out-of- control fire was ravaging him from the inside out, and he was at a loss as to how to put it out. He'd retreat to his quarters when not on duty, denying himself any kind of social interaction. His friends and crew gave him his space. Not pushing him for fear of getting their heads bit off, which was how he seemed to talk to most people these days. Will knew he was falling into a deep gulf of darkness and didn't seem to care. And like so many other recent nights, whatever little sleep he got would be with the aid of a bottle. Nonsynthehol whiskey, scotch, Andorian brandy.....whatever it took, wherever he could get it from.
Will couldn't understand how he was getting this close to coming unglued. Was his anger and hurt over Deanna, Worf, job performance, memories, *everything*.... really so deep that it would effect him so drastically? He never thought it could be possible, but here he was living it. If you could call it living. Had the insane anger always been there, and it had taken just one final kick in the teeth to bring it all to the surface?
His father wasn't helping matters any. Every few months or so Kyle Riker would contact his son to say hello, whether Will wanted him to or not. Their conversation would begin pleasantly enough, but usually ended with something along the lines of.... "When are you going to accept promotion and run your own ship, Will?".... "Do you plan on being the *oldest* first officer in Starfleet?".... "Get your damn head out of the clouds and think about your future!"
At which point, Will would shout back a bitter remark, such as: "Mind your own damn business!".... "I never asked for your advice!".... or "Let me live my life the way I want!" and then slam down the button to end the transmission.
In Will's memory it had been the same most of his childhood. The short times his father *was* home, when he wasn't ignoring Will, he was criticizing his son. Never satisfied. Always pushing him to do more. Will had hated his father when he was a child, yet he still craved the older man's attention. He knew just what buttons to push on his father. He would intentionally get into trouble just so his father would be forced to acknowledge him. And when the usual heavy slap or two came across his face during the lecture, and then banishment to his bedroom, Will would feel a strange sense of satisfaction. Their volatile relationship came to a head when Will was fifteen years old. After another huge argument, Kyle Riker had finally had enough of playing daddy. He left for good that time. Abandoning the son he figured didn't appreciate or deserve the energy he put into a useless cause.
With his father's words still ringing in his ears, "You'll never amount to anything. You're too stupid to make anything of yourself!" the insecure teenage boy accepted the challenge many of his slightly older peers were - joining Starfleet Academy. It wasn't his first choice for a career, he really had no idea what he wanted to do. But he had no where else to go. Fortunately, he had enough school credits to make it possible. In spite of what his father thought, Will was extremely intelligent and passing the entrance exams had been relatively easy. The Academy had changed Will's life. Four years later, he graduated 8th in his class. A foot taller, strong, full of professional self-confidence and ready to face whatever challenges and dangers the universe had to throw at him.
*****************
He and his father had attempted a reconciliation a few years back. It soon became apparent that they would never love each other as a father and son should, but at least they were communicating. Argumentatively, but communicating, nonetheless.
The last contact from his father had been just an hour ago. Kyle saw how frazzled Will looked and became concerned. Will, in his current state of mind, took the concern as another personal jab and blatantly told his father, "If you can't stand the sight of me, then just stay the fuck out of my life!" Before his shocked father could get another word in, Will ended the transmission. His unrelenting anger squelched the tiny bit of remorse he'd immediately felt afterward.
An hour later, Will was almost to the point of drunkenness he wanted to be. His head was pounding, eyes bloodshot, clothes and hair disheveled. He'd had an awful day and was in no mood for company when he heard the chime to his door bleep. After a second and third persistent ring, he knew he couldn't pretend he wasn't there.
"Come in!"
Even with the lights dimmed, he had no trouble recognizing the figure silhouetted in the doorway. To say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement. She was the last person he expected to see in his quarters.
Deanna could smell the alcohol as soon as she stepped through the door. She wondered about that and why he was sitting there in the darkness. She wanted to see him more clearly.
"Lights up to 60 percent," she instructed the computer. Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance. Her gaze wandered around the rest of the room, at the mess there, and she grew concerned. She knew Will wasn't the best housekeeper on the ship, but this was more clutter than even he could usually stand.
"Will?" Her curious eyes rested on him again.
Will remained seated on his sofa. He took in her appearance. Her low-cut snug dress, long flowing hair and wondered why she was wasting the effect on him.
"What do you want?" he asked coldly, taking another sip of his drink.
This wasn't quite the greeting she had expected. She'd never seen Will like this. He was drunk and a mess. She said the first thing that came to her mind.
"Why are you drinking that? What's wrong with you, Will?"
~More criticism,~ he thought.
"There's not a damn thing wrong with me. Now what do you want?"
He obviously wasn't going to volunteer anything. She swallowed and came to the point of her visit, thinking it would improve his spirits. She moved closer till she stood only a few feet away, clasping her hands in front of herself.
"Will, I wanted to talk to you. About us." She licked her lips nervously. "You and me."
His chest tightened. ~Here it comes. She's going to tell me she's marrying Worf and it will forever change things with us.~
After a pause, it suddenly dawned on him. He almost laughed.
He didn't care.
It almost felt like relief. In his half-drunk, bitter, angry haze he didn't care if they married. He didn't want her anymore. Worf could have her.
He didn't want or love her anymore.
He looked up at her, waiting for her to tell him. Waited for her to finally shatter his heart into a thousand pieces. Her response wasn't what he expected.
"I'm not seeing Worf anymore."
~What?~
Deanna knelt on the floor in front of Will and took the drink from his hand, sitting it on the end table. She took his hands in hers and looked him in the eye with a most hopeful expression. He returned it with a wary look.
"The only person I want in my life is you, Will. I love you, Imzadi. I know that now. I've been such a fool all these years to deny us something we should have had all along."
He could smell her exotic perfume. He should be getting down on his knees with her and taking her into his arms, deeply breathing the heady scent that used to drive him wild. He should be kissing her with the passion they'd found in each other 9 years earlier.
But at that moment.... the scent sickened him. She sickened him.
This time he did laugh. A cold, heartless laugh with so much malice, Deanna was taken aback. She let him laugh for a moment, soon recognizing the maniacal laugh of a person at the end of his rope. She was very confused. So far this evening had been nothing like she'd envisioned. She thought Will would have been enthralled by the way she'd presented herself. He'd always loved her hair down like it was, and the dress had been a favorite of his. After admitting her love, she expected to be wrapped in his arms by now, being showered with kisses and endearments.
What she got was a man half out of his mind on booze and was being laughed at ridiculously. She didn't need her empathic abilities to see something was very wrong. She wished he would let her into his mind. She stood and backed up a few steps.
"Will? Why are you doing this? What's wrong? Please let me in. I can't read you."
He finally snapped. Deep down, he knew his reaction was way out of line, but he couldn't help it. The laughter stopped. All the hurt and anger that had been boiling just below the surface erupted out. He couldn't stop it. He wanted her to feel his pain.
Deanna gasped loudly and staggered back as the force of his mind opened to her. She would have fallen if she hadn't backed into a chair. "Oh god! Please, Will! Stop it!" She pressed her palms to her ears, her face distorted with pain. "Please!" she begged.
Will broke the connection of their minds and stood facing her. He walked a slow circle around her as he spoke. "How's it feel?" he spat vindictively. "How does it feel to have your mind and heart twisted so hard you want to scream?"
"What are you talking about?" Deanna breathed heavily, trying to regain her equilibrium. "What's wrong with you? Why are you so angry?"
Will was breathing hard himself from the rage he felt. His hands were fisted tightly at his sides. "Why did you do it?"
"Do what?!" Deanna pleaded. She was beginning to think it wasn't alcohol Will was half out of his mind on. He was deeply disturbed.
"Worf!" he yelled. "Did you do it just to spite me?" He cocked his head to the side as he asked the question. "You can't honestly tell me you felt love for him. You're complete opposites."
"He is a very caring man," Deanna defended Worf. "You are his friend. You should know that."
"*Was* his friend," Will corrected her. "You took that away too. How would your mother react if she knew her precious Daughter of the Daughter of the Fifth House, the Holy Bearer of...." he waved his arms, ".... whatever; and the rest of that aristocratic garbage had lowered her royal self to sleep with a Klingon?" He'd hit a spot he knew would anger her. She hated being reminded of her heritage. Or rather, the way her mother always described it.
And it did. "You stop this right now, Will Riker!"
"Like *hell* I will! You wanted to know how I feel, so I'm telling you." He rounded on her. "What happened to your rule about not being involved with someone who served on the same ship? Or was that just a convenient excuse saved just for me?"
"I don't have to explain anything to you." Deanna's eyes blazed with indignation. "I came here tonight to tell you how much I loved you and how I've regretted all the wasted time. After seeing your behavior, I'm not so sure now." She was tightlipped with her own anger.
"What makes you think I want you?"
Deanna fought to control her negative emotions. "I saw how my relationship with Worf troubled you. I know you still love me."
"You're wrong there, Counselor!" Will was so convinced himself, he held nothing back. No matter how rude. "I saw the bruises on you a few days ago." He cackled maliciously. "I didn't know you were into S&M. That's really not my style." Then he really lowered the hammer. "I also don't go for a Klingon's sloppy seconds. You're probably so broken in, a normal man would get lost in there." He wasn't finished yet. "And while I'm at it, I should tell you that you really should cut down on the chocolate. It's gone to your hips."
Deanna's mouth dropped open in astonishment at the crudeness and hatefulness of Riker's words. The tears came an instant later. Her lips trembled as she whispered, "How could you?" When the violent sob escaped her throat, she blindly ran for the door and out into the corridor.
Will thought he was standing still in the sudden silence, but soon noticed the trembling that took over his body. He knew he *should* regret what he'd said. He *should* go beg her forgiveness. But he didn't regret one single word. And that's what bothered him most of all.
~What the hell is wrong with me?~
~I'm so scared.~
*************
Deanna flew through the door of her own quarters. Right next door to Will's. She flung herself on the sofa and cried at the hurt that felt like a dagger through her heart.
~How could he have said such things? Why did he want to hurt me so?~ She hugged the small pillow to her chest. ~Why was he so irrationally upset about my being with Worf?~ Deanna sat up and swiped a palm across her cheeks, wiping the tears back. ~It's not like he's remained celibate all these years!~
That thought struck a nerve. ~No, he hadn't. So why should I?~ Her Betazoid temper became riled again. ~No! I am not going to let him do this to me.~ She threw the pillow to the floor. ~Dammit! He doesn't own me. And I'll be damned if I'm going to sit here crying my eyes out when I should be giving him a dose of his own medicine!~ With that determined thought she tore out of the form-fitting dress and went to her closet for comfortable slacks and a sweater. She stopped to look in the full-length mirror. "I am *not* fat!" she told the mirror, but silently promised herself to go by the gym a couple more times a week just in case. "Ohhh, that man!"
Minutes later, Deanna Troi overrode the command function of Will's door and burst through it like a twister. She found him staring out into the stars with another drink in his hand. Her eyes were still red from crying, and her makeup was smudged. None of that mattered to her as she walked up to the commander, yanked the glass from his hand, threw it across the room and then poked him in the chest with her long fingernail.
"How dare you talk to me like that, you arrogant bastard!" she practically screamed.
"You back for more?" Will slurred indifferently.
"I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but you had *no* right at all saying those things about Worf and I. We cared for each other deeply. It may not have been an intense love, but it was love nonetheless. What you turned it into was filthy and completely uncalled for! Who the hell are you to talk anyway, Mr. Will-The-Thrill! Do you have the monopoly on the number of relationships one person can have?"
She took a deep breath. "These past weeks you've been behaving like an immature child. It's time you grew up, Riker, and learned to accept things like a man. Stop acting like a spoiled child!"
~"Stop whining like a baby!"~ Will heard his father's voice in his head from so long ago when he'd broken his arm. ~Take the pain like a man!"~
"How much respect do you think you're getting from the crew with you the way you are?" Deanna badgered on, pointing at him. "Look at you! You're slovenly. Unprofessional. And I have a feeling you've been drinking alone pretty regularly lately. Is that how a First Officer is supposed to act?"
~"I expect professionalism from my senior crew,"~ the captain had admonished him. ~"Personal problems have no place on my bridge. Is that understood?"~
~"That's not how a Riker acts, boy!"~ Kyle's booming voice adds. ~"I don't want you shaming my name!"~
"Are you finished yet?" Will asks coolly, swallowing, wishing all the voices would go away.
"No. I'm not!" she answers forcefully. "Tonight you have proven once again that I'm not sure I can trust you. That you haven't matured at all.H H You're still the irresponsible, cowardly jackass who puts his own self interests above anyone else's. The very same kind of man you were when you didn't show up on Risa!"
She had to stop and force down the hysteria that threatened to release. She didn't think she'd ever been so angry before. She only hoped he felt some of the hurt and humiliation she'd suffered all those years ago.
Will felt completely numb. He didn't even try to defend himself, not seeing any point in it.
"You're going to hold that against me forever, aren't you?" Will chuckled with quiet scorn. "Of course you are. You always liked to be one-up on people. Always feeling the need to be superior to others."
He walked around her to the center of the room. Deanna's glowering eyes followed him.
"With your royal preeminence, I'm surprised you ever gave me any of your time at all seeing as I'm just a-" he shrugged his shoulders. "-mere human."
"Oh, don't be stupid!"
"So now I'm stupid." He clasped his hands behind his back and nodded his head. "Irresponsible, cowardly, unprofessional, stupid."
Will's stomach churned as he recounted the words. Then his whole being seemed to deflate as he really applied the words to himself. Truly believing them. ~That is how I really am.~
Despite how low he felt on the inside, he had to keep a sarcastic light air to his voice for Deanna's benefit. He wouldn't let her think he was being honest with himself. "Guess I'm pretty worthless then."
Deanna threw her arms up in exasperation, disgusted with his tone. "Fine! You're worthless. You'll never be anything but. Is that what you want to hear?"
~"You'll never amount to anything. You're too stupid to make anything of yourself!"~
~Gee, Dad. You were right.~ Will thought pathetically. He felt whatever life he had left in him sink through the floor.
If Will had been clear-headed, not inebriated, not suffering from such massive depression; he would have known how absurd this all was. If he was in a better state of mind, he'd know that his personnel file would show proof of what a brave and competent officer he was. He'd easily see how his friends loved him and crew looked up to him. Unfortunately, his mind made him believe what the voices and Deanna were saying. Everything from the past weeks-his life-came to a head.
And he couldn't handle it.
He felt so empty. So alone. So numbingly lifeless.
"You sound just like him," he said quietly and gave an ironic hollow chuckle.
"What?....Who?" Deanna shook her head, confused. "What in the gods' names are you talking about?" She was still too angry to see the despair in Will. She wasn't 'Ship's Counselor' at the moment. She was pure vexed woman!
Will's blank stare went off to the right of her. His vision was within himself. "My father," he answered. "You and he seem to have a remarkably similar opinion of me."
"Well, don't great minds think alike!" Deanna deadpanned. She crossed her arms in front of herself. "I don't want to talk about your father. I want to know why you feel the need to be so mean and abusive. I have done nothing to deserve that. You owe me an apology, Commander."
~Done nothing? No, Deanna. You've done lots.~ He still stared at nothingness. ~You've helped me realize there's nothing worth hanging around here for. I'm not worthy of *being* here.~
Will knew the idea seeping into his mind was an act of desperation. And desperate he was. To disappear. To leave. To become nothing but a faded memory to everyone. Nobody would have to put up with him ever again.
The idea rooted and began to branch out. He couldn't let Deanna know what he was thinking, he had to get away from her. Will planted on an apologetic smile. "You're right, Deanna. I'm sorry." The smile faltered into a grimace he quickly tried to cover. "It will never happen again."
Deanna saw the array of emotions moving over Will's face. She didn't like the way his voice sounded, either. She dropped her vindictive thoughts as she dropped her arms to her sides. She released a breath slowly to find calmness. "Will, please tell me what's going through your mind." She tried to probe him, but met with resistance. "I've never seen you like this. I'd like to he-"
"I'm fine!" he abruptly cut her off. He didn't want her help, only wanted to get away from her. He began to feel panicky, his eyes darted from Deanna to the door.
"Please, Will!"
"Leave me alone!" he almost shouted. He saw the shocked look on her face and panic took over. "Look, Deanna, there's nothing....," he tried desperately for words to make her believe he was fine, but it was hopeless. He finally started backing towards his door, muttering "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His eyes were frantic and with one last look into Deanna's eyes, he shook his head and bolted out the door.
Deanna stood there in the now still room. The only sound was of her own anxious breaths. "What just happened?" she whispered to herself. Her mind went over the conversation and Will's body language. It took the psychologist only seconds to realize what might be going through Will's head. "Oh no! Imzadi!" She swallowed the scream that wanted to escape. "Computer, what is the location of Commander Riker?!" Deanna started towards the door as she asked.
"Commander Riker is located on deck 8, corridor A, in front of door 835," the feminine computer voice informed her.
~Oh good, he hasn't gone very far,~ Deanna thought hopefully as she ran down the hallway. When she turned the corner and didn't see Will her heart skipped a beat. She repeated her question to the computer and was given the same location. She couldn't understand how the computer could be wrong.... until she saw the shiny silver comm badge on the carpeted floor. She picked it up and knew it was Will's.
She held it in her hand tightly as despair brought new tears to her eyes. "This is all my fault!" She fell to her knees. "Please don't do it, Will," she whispered, then sobbed openly. "Where are you, Imzadi?"
TBC
*****************
Part 1
With a polite "good evening" to Captain Picard and a brief warm smile aimed at Lieutenant Worf, Counselor Deanna Troi stepped into the turbolift from the bridge at the end of her duty shift. She turned around and stood straight with satisfaction as the doors closed in front of her. She'd deliberately ignored Will Riker on her way off the bridge, though she was sure his eyes were on her back.
"Deck eight."
She would not give attention to his petty jealousies..... Just yet.
Six weeks earlier she and Worf had begun a romantic relationship. Deanna knew Will thought it a fling that wouldn't last. But his tone soon changed when it looked like this 'fling' was lasting far longer than he figured it would. She knew she should feel guilty about allowing Will to stew the way she had been, but at the same time she got a devilish pleasure out of putting him 'in his place'. Letting him know that her universe didn't revolve around him and that she could have a life of her own without him. Not that she really wanted that, of course.
As she walked down the corridor to her quarters, Deanna smiled to herself. No, she didn't want Will Riker out of her life. Not by a long shot. And she was ready to admit it.
You see, she and Worf had broken off with each other four days ago. The day after the first time they'd made love. If you could call it 'making love'. She had expected Worf to be a little aggressive in his technique, had expected it and had willingly engaged with him. But she hadn't expected him to be *that* aggressive. He was like a rabid targ. When she awoke the next morning, every muscle aching and more bruises, scrapes and bites than she could count, Deanna got the worst case of 'second thoughts' in recorded history. Even Worf had been surprised at how easily she had been damaged. After a time of contemplation and a talk between Worf and herself, they both agreed their relationship wouldn't work out. Their species were just too different. They loved each other to a degree, but it wasn't worth the literal pain on her part.
And Worf wasn't without his own doubts. Not only didn't he want to inflict Deanna to the Klingon way of sex again, the only way he knew he was capable of; or the fact that he despised her incessant need to talk of emotions. He hated the fact that his friendship with Commander Riker had all but been destroyed over his affair with the counselor. He'd always considered the commander to be a good friend, a warrior brother. But he had dishonored that friendship over a woman. A woman he knew deep in his eight-chambered heart, could never really be his because she still had too many feelings for Riker. No matter how confused those feelings were. So he would do the honorable thing and step aside, and hopefully salvage that lost friendship.
Their parting was quite amicable. Their friendship would survive. What Deanna didn't think she'd survive was the embarrassment of having to go to sickbay and face Beverly that same morning. And if that wasn't bad enough, as she was exiting the turbolift nearest sickbay, the Enterprise's first officer just happened to walk by. It was hard to miss the bruises that poked out so lividly from the neckline of her uniform. But to Will's credit, he didn't say a word. He kept his expression neutral and continued on his way down the corridor. She thought his reaction strange. She had expected him to throw a fit. She thanked the gods for small favors and walked into sickbay. After a repair job and a lecture from Beverly, Deanna assured the doctor that it definitely would *not* happen again, thanked her and left.
It didn't take Deanna long to realize that she could love Will again. The way their Imzadi bond had always meant their love to be. If her relationship with Worf had shown her anything, it was that Will was still madly in love with her after all those years. The jealousy and pain had been written all over his face for most of the past six weeks. At first she had been very annoyed with it. He had no romantic hold on her. What right did he have to be jealous? After a while it became sort of a power trip for Deanna. She kinda liked seeing him squirm like that. The last three weeks he'd only seen or spoken to her or Worf when duty required it and he had completely blocked her out from being able to read his feelings.
In her quarters, Deanna went through her wardrobe. This evening, she would tell Will that she really did still care. That she'd never stopped loving him. She would make his mental block crumble and make him feel her sincerity.
"Oh, this ought to make Will drool!" she said to herself, picking a flattering outfit from her closet and eyeing it appraisingly. "Once he knows that it's over with Worf and that I want us to start over, he'll drop his shields so quick I'll be able to hear the clang." She laughed and draped the dress across the bed and headed into the bathroom for a bubble bath. "He never could stay angry at me."
She had never been more wrong.
*************
The first time Will saw Deanna and Worf enter Ten Forward together..... hand in hand; then take a table together and hold hands across it, he'd stared with wide-eyed astonishment. "What the hell?" he whispered. After a moment, he shook his head and chuckled. "A Klingon and Betazoid royalty? No way! It'll never work."
Two weeks later they were still a couple, and more chummier than ever. They were now spending most of their off-duty time together. Leaving Will alone or having to find company with other friends to fill the time that he and Deanna used to spend together. He was missing her companionship and becoming very concerned about how far this thing with Worf was going. Having to watch them together, showing affection so openly, made his stomach feel like a brick had taken up residence in it. He knew he was being jealous, but didn't care. Then he remembered what she'd told him a few years ago, when he'd once again tried to rekindle their old flame. She'd said, "Imzadi. No. Not while we're serving on the same ship..." Why had she changed her steadfast rule for Worf? Had she just been making up an excuse to not get serious with Will?
It hurt Will and made him angry that she would do that to him. Had she just given up on him, finally? Tired of watching him have short affairs with whomever he chose? Didn't she see that he hated being alone for very long? That he craved a warm, willing body next to his, wishing it could be his Imzadi's body. And that every time he was with another woman he had to force himself not to cry out Deanna's name in the heat of passion. Couldn't she understand that all those women meant nothing to him? They were just substitutes. With the exception of Soren, maybe. She was the only other one who had gotten close to his heart. But still not in the way Deanna had. For an empath, the counselor certainly couldn't, or maybe just wasn't, reading his emotions very well.
Maybe it *was* all his fault. Did his personal life disgust her? Maybe Deanna was still hurt and couldn't trust him enough after he'd failed to show up for their wedding so many years ago. He'd tried to assuage his guilt by telling himself that it was impossible for him to be there. He couldn't just up and leave his ship, they were so far away. Taking a shore leave to Risa was out of the question. Then why hadn't he just contacted her to set the date back? Explain the situation. She would have understood.
Or would she? Would she have just called him a coward? Accused him of not really loving her enough to commit, that his career was more important to him than her?
"No! I *did* love her enough! I did!" He buried his face in his hands, alone in his quarters.
He was tired. His mind too muddled to even try to remember that time correctly. It was past history anyway. He couldn't change what had already been done. 'Would she still hold that against me after all this time?' he wondered.
Over the next few weeks every aspect of Commander Riker's life crumbled in one way or another. Whatever hurt he was feeling over Deanna and Worf's continuing romance was being overridden by an anger that got more intense each day. He had closed Deanna off to his thoughts so tightly there was no chance of her breaking through. It was all he could do to work with the two of them, on the ship, or on away missions. He made no pretense at friendship with either of them. Only a cold, harsh professional attitude was displayed.
Problems maintaining the ship's daily functioning and his own stupid mistakes added to his problems. He knew his mind was deteriorating and it was affecting his duties. He was barely eating or sleeping. He'd been to sickbay too often lately for relief from tension headaches. Dr. Crusher could see he was suffering, but could get nothing from him to explain his condition. She had an inkling part of it had something to do with Deanna, so wouldn't suggest he see the counselor for advice; hoping things would work themselves out. Captain Picard had called him to his ready room twice to point out errors that could have proven disastrous. Suggesting strongly to his first officer that whatever problems he was having should be left off the bridge, and that the next infraction would not go unpunished. Hearing the strong disappointment in the captain's voice had cut Will deeply. He himself had always expected 100% from the crew in their jobs, and now he could barely manage to keep his own head above water.
His own self-recrimination added to his anger. It was like an out-of- control fire was ravaging him from the inside out, and he was at a loss as to how to put it out. He'd retreat to his quarters when not on duty, denying himself any kind of social interaction. His friends and crew gave him his space. Not pushing him for fear of getting their heads bit off, which was how he seemed to talk to most people these days. Will knew he was falling into a deep gulf of darkness and didn't seem to care. And like so many other recent nights, whatever little sleep he got would be with the aid of a bottle. Nonsynthehol whiskey, scotch, Andorian brandy.....whatever it took, wherever he could get it from.
Will couldn't understand how he was getting this close to coming unglued. Was his anger and hurt over Deanna, Worf, job performance, memories, *everything*.... really so deep that it would effect him so drastically? He never thought it could be possible, but here he was living it. If you could call it living. Had the insane anger always been there, and it had taken just one final kick in the teeth to bring it all to the surface?
His father wasn't helping matters any. Every few months or so Kyle Riker would contact his son to say hello, whether Will wanted him to or not. Their conversation would begin pleasantly enough, but usually ended with something along the lines of.... "When are you going to accept promotion and run your own ship, Will?".... "Do you plan on being the *oldest* first officer in Starfleet?".... "Get your damn head out of the clouds and think about your future!"
At which point, Will would shout back a bitter remark, such as: "Mind your own damn business!".... "I never asked for your advice!".... or "Let me live my life the way I want!" and then slam down the button to end the transmission.
In Will's memory it had been the same most of his childhood. The short times his father *was* home, when he wasn't ignoring Will, he was criticizing his son. Never satisfied. Always pushing him to do more. Will had hated his father when he was a child, yet he still craved the older man's attention. He knew just what buttons to push on his father. He would intentionally get into trouble just so his father would be forced to acknowledge him. And when the usual heavy slap or two came across his face during the lecture, and then banishment to his bedroom, Will would feel a strange sense of satisfaction. Their volatile relationship came to a head when Will was fifteen years old. After another huge argument, Kyle Riker had finally had enough of playing daddy. He left for good that time. Abandoning the son he figured didn't appreciate or deserve the energy he put into a useless cause.
With his father's words still ringing in his ears, "You'll never amount to anything. You're too stupid to make anything of yourself!" the insecure teenage boy accepted the challenge many of his slightly older peers were - joining Starfleet Academy. It wasn't his first choice for a career, he really had no idea what he wanted to do. But he had no where else to go. Fortunately, he had enough school credits to make it possible. In spite of what his father thought, Will was extremely intelligent and passing the entrance exams had been relatively easy. The Academy had changed Will's life. Four years later, he graduated 8th in his class. A foot taller, strong, full of professional self-confidence and ready to face whatever challenges and dangers the universe had to throw at him.
*****************
He and his father had attempted a reconciliation a few years back. It soon became apparent that they would never love each other as a father and son should, but at least they were communicating. Argumentatively, but communicating, nonetheless.
The last contact from his father had been just an hour ago. Kyle saw how frazzled Will looked and became concerned. Will, in his current state of mind, took the concern as another personal jab and blatantly told his father, "If you can't stand the sight of me, then just stay the fuck out of my life!" Before his shocked father could get another word in, Will ended the transmission. His unrelenting anger squelched the tiny bit of remorse he'd immediately felt afterward.
An hour later, Will was almost to the point of drunkenness he wanted to be. His head was pounding, eyes bloodshot, clothes and hair disheveled. He'd had an awful day and was in no mood for company when he heard the chime to his door bleep. After a second and third persistent ring, he knew he couldn't pretend he wasn't there.
"Come in!"
Even with the lights dimmed, he had no trouble recognizing the figure silhouetted in the doorway. To say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement. She was the last person he expected to see in his quarters.
Deanna could smell the alcohol as soon as she stepped through the door. She wondered about that and why he was sitting there in the darkness. She wanted to see him more clearly.
"Lights up to 60 percent," she instructed the computer. Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance. Her gaze wandered around the rest of the room, at the mess there, and she grew concerned. She knew Will wasn't the best housekeeper on the ship, but this was more clutter than even he could usually stand.
"Will?" Her curious eyes rested on him again.
Will remained seated on his sofa. He took in her appearance. Her low-cut snug dress, long flowing hair and wondered why she was wasting the effect on him.
"What do you want?" he asked coldly, taking another sip of his drink.
This wasn't quite the greeting she had expected. She'd never seen Will like this. He was drunk and a mess. She said the first thing that came to her mind.
"Why are you drinking that? What's wrong with you, Will?"
~More criticism,~ he thought.
"There's not a damn thing wrong with me. Now what do you want?"
He obviously wasn't going to volunteer anything. She swallowed and came to the point of her visit, thinking it would improve his spirits. She moved closer till she stood only a few feet away, clasping her hands in front of herself.
"Will, I wanted to talk to you. About us." She licked her lips nervously. "You and me."
His chest tightened. ~Here it comes. She's going to tell me she's marrying Worf and it will forever change things with us.~
After a pause, it suddenly dawned on him. He almost laughed.
He didn't care.
It almost felt like relief. In his half-drunk, bitter, angry haze he didn't care if they married. He didn't want her anymore. Worf could have her.
He didn't want or love her anymore.
He looked up at her, waiting for her to tell him. Waited for her to finally shatter his heart into a thousand pieces. Her response wasn't what he expected.
"I'm not seeing Worf anymore."
~What?~
Deanna knelt on the floor in front of Will and took the drink from his hand, sitting it on the end table. She took his hands in hers and looked him in the eye with a most hopeful expression. He returned it with a wary look.
"The only person I want in my life is you, Will. I love you, Imzadi. I know that now. I've been such a fool all these years to deny us something we should have had all along."
He could smell her exotic perfume. He should be getting down on his knees with her and taking her into his arms, deeply breathing the heady scent that used to drive him wild. He should be kissing her with the passion they'd found in each other 9 years earlier.
But at that moment.... the scent sickened him. She sickened him.
This time he did laugh. A cold, heartless laugh with so much malice, Deanna was taken aback. She let him laugh for a moment, soon recognizing the maniacal laugh of a person at the end of his rope. She was very confused. So far this evening had been nothing like she'd envisioned. She thought Will would have been enthralled by the way she'd presented herself. He'd always loved her hair down like it was, and the dress had been a favorite of his. After admitting her love, she expected to be wrapped in his arms by now, being showered with kisses and endearments.
What she got was a man half out of his mind on booze and was being laughed at ridiculously. She didn't need her empathic abilities to see something was very wrong. She wished he would let her into his mind. She stood and backed up a few steps.
"Will? Why are you doing this? What's wrong? Please let me in. I can't read you."
He finally snapped. Deep down, he knew his reaction was way out of line, but he couldn't help it. The laughter stopped. All the hurt and anger that had been boiling just below the surface erupted out. He couldn't stop it. He wanted her to feel his pain.
Deanna gasped loudly and staggered back as the force of his mind opened to her. She would have fallen if she hadn't backed into a chair. "Oh god! Please, Will! Stop it!" She pressed her palms to her ears, her face distorted with pain. "Please!" she begged.
Will broke the connection of their minds and stood facing her. He walked a slow circle around her as he spoke. "How's it feel?" he spat vindictively. "How does it feel to have your mind and heart twisted so hard you want to scream?"
"What are you talking about?" Deanna breathed heavily, trying to regain her equilibrium. "What's wrong with you? Why are you so angry?"
Will was breathing hard himself from the rage he felt. His hands were fisted tightly at his sides. "Why did you do it?"
"Do what?!" Deanna pleaded. She was beginning to think it wasn't alcohol Will was half out of his mind on. He was deeply disturbed.
"Worf!" he yelled. "Did you do it just to spite me?" He cocked his head to the side as he asked the question. "You can't honestly tell me you felt love for him. You're complete opposites."
"He is a very caring man," Deanna defended Worf. "You are his friend. You should know that."
"*Was* his friend," Will corrected her. "You took that away too. How would your mother react if she knew her precious Daughter of the Daughter of the Fifth House, the Holy Bearer of...." he waved his arms, ".... whatever; and the rest of that aristocratic garbage had lowered her royal self to sleep with a Klingon?" He'd hit a spot he knew would anger her. She hated being reminded of her heritage. Or rather, the way her mother always described it.
And it did. "You stop this right now, Will Riker!"
"Like *hell* I will! You wanted to know how I feel, so I'm telling you." He rounded on her. "What happened to your rule about not being involved with someone who served on the same ship? Or was that just a convenient excuse saved just for me?"
"I don't have to explain anything to you." Deanna's eyes blazed with indignation. "I came here tonight to tell you how much I loved you and how I've regretted all the wasted time. After seeing your behavior, I'm not so sure now." She was tightlipped with her own anger.
"What makes you think I want you?"
Deanna fought to control her negative emotions. "I saw how my relationship with Worf troubled you. I know you still love me."
"You're wrong there, Counselor!" Will was so convinced himself, he held nothing back. No matter how rude. "I saw the bruises on you a few days ago." He cackled maliciously. "I didn't know you were into S&M. That's really not my style." Then he really lowered the hammer. "I also don't go for a Klingon's sloppy seconds. You're probably so broken in, a normal man would get lost in there." He wasn't finished yet. "And while I'm at it, I should tell you that you really should cut down on the chocolate. It's gone to your hips."
Deanna's mouth dropped open in astonishment at the crudeness and hatefulness of Riker's words. The tears came an instant later. Her lips trembled as she whispered, "How could you?" When the violent sob escaped her throat, she blindly ran for the door and out into the corridor.
Will thought he was standing still in the sudden silence, but soon noticed the trembling that took over his body. He knew he *should* regret what he'd said. He *should* go beg her forgiveness. But he didn't regret one single word. And that's what bothered him most of all.
~What the hell is wrong with me?~
~I'm so scared.~
*************
Deanna flew through the door of her own quarters. Right next door to Will's. She flung herself on the sofa and cried at the hurt that felt like a dagger through her heart.
~How could he have said such things? Why did he want to hurt me so?~ She hugged the small pillow to her chest. ~Why was he so irrationally upset about my being with Worf?~ Deanna sat up and swiped a palm across her cheeks, wiping the tears back. ~It's not like he's remained celibate all these years!~
That thought struck a nerve. ~No, he hadn't. So why should I?~ Her Betazoid temper became riled again. ~No! I am not going to let him do this to me.~ She threw the pillow to the floor. ~Dammit! He doesn't own me. And I'll be damned if I'm going to sit here crying my eyes out when I should be giving him a dose of his own medicine!~ With that determined thought she tore out of the form-fitting dress and went to her closet for comfortable slacks and a sweater. She stopped to look in the full-length mirror. "I am *not* fat!" she told the mirror, but silently promised herself to go by the gym a couple more times a week just in case. "Ohhh, that man!"
Minutes later, Deanna Troi overrode the command function of Will's door and burst through it like a twister. She found him staring out into the stars with another drink in his hand. Her eyes were still red from crying, and her makeup was smudged. None of that mattered to her as she walked up to the commander, yanked the glass from his hand, threw it across the room and then poked him in the chest with her long fingernail.
"How dare you talk to me like that, you arrogant bastard!" she practically screamed.
"You back for more?" Will slurred indifferently.
"I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but you had *no* right at all saying those things about Worf and I. We cared for each other deeply. It may not have been an intense love, but it was love nonetheless. What you turned it into was filthy and completely uncalled for! Who the hell are you to talk anyway, Mr. Will-The-Thrill! Do you have the monopoly on the number of relationships one person can have?"
She took a deep breath. "These past weeks you've been behaving like an immature child. It's time you grew up, Riker, and learned to accept things like a man. Stop acting like a spoiled child!"
~"Stop whining like a baby!"~ Will heard his father's voice in his head from so long ago when he'd broken his arm. ~Take the pain like a man!"~
"How much respect do you think you're getting from the crew with you the way you are?" Deanna badgered on, pointing at him. "Look at you! You're slovenly. Unprofessional. And I have a feeling you've been drinking alone pretty regularly lately. Is that how a First Officer is supposed to act?"
~"I expect professionalism from my senior crew,"~ the captain had admonished him. ~"Personal problems have no place on my bridge. Is that understood?"~
~"That's not how a Riker acts, boy!"~ Kyle's booming voice adds. ~"I don't want you shaming my name!"~
"Are you finished yet?" Will asks coolly, swallowing, wishing all the voices would go away.
"No. I'm not!" she answers forcefully. "Tonight you have proven once again that I'm not sure I can trust you. That you haven't matured at all.H H You're still the irresponsible, cowardly jackass who puts his own self interests above anyone else's. The very same kind of man you were when you didn't show up on Risa!"
She had to stop and force down the hysteria that threatened to release. She didn't think she'd ever been so angry before. She only hoped he felt some of the hurt and humiliation she'd suffered all those years ago.
Will felt completely numb. He didn't even try to defend himself, not seeing any point in it.
"You're going to hold that against me forever, aren't you?" Will chuckled with quiet scorn. "Of course you are. You always liked to be one-up on people. Always feeling the need to be superior to others."
He walked around her to the center of the room. Deanna's glowering eyes followed him.
"With your royal preeminence, I'm surprised you ever gave me any of your time at all seeing as I'm just a-" he shrugged his shoulders. "-mere human."
"Oh, don't be stupid!"
"So now I'm stupid." He clasped his hands behind his back and nodded his head. "Irresponsible, cowardly, unprofessional, stupid."
Will's stomach churned as he recounted the words. Then his whole being seemed to deflate as he really applied the words to himself. Truly believing them. ~That is how I really am.~
Despite how low he felt on the inside, he had to keep a sarcastic light air to his voice for Deanna's benefit. He wouldn't let her think he was being honest with himself. "Guess I'm pretty worthless then."
Deanna threw her arms up in exasperation, disgusted with his tone. "Fine! You're worthless. You'll never be anything but. Is that what you want to hear?"
~"You'll never amount to anything. You're too stupid to make anything of yourself!"~
~Gee, Dad. You were right.~ Will thought pathetically. He felt whatever life he had left in him sink through the floor.
If Will had been clear-headed, not inebriated, not suffering from such massive depression; he would have known how absurd this all was. If he was in a better state of mind, he'd know that his personnel file would show proof of what a brave and competent officer he was. He'd easily see how his friends loved him and crew looked up to him. Unfortunately, his mind made him believe what the voices and Deanna were saying. Everything from the past weeks-his life-came to a head.
And he couldn't handle it.
He felt so empty. So alone. So numbingly lifeless.
"You sound just like him," he said quietly and gave an ironic hollow chuckle.
"What?....Who?" Deanna shook her head, confused. "What in the gods' names are you talking about?" She was still too angry to see the despair in Will. She wasn't 'Ship's Counselor' at the moment. She was pure vexed woman!
Will's blank stare went off to the right of her. His vision was within himself. "My father," he answered. "You and he seem to have a remarkably similar opinion of me."
"Well, don't great minds think alike!" Deanna deadpanned. She crossed her arms in front of herself. "I don't want to talk about your father. I want to know why you feel the need to be so mean and abusive. I have done nothing to deserve that. You owe me an apology, Commander."
~Done nothing? No, Deanna. You've done lots.~ He still stared at nothingness. ~You've helped me realize there's nothing worth hanging around here for. I'm not worthy of *being* here.~
Will knew the idea seeping into his mind was an act of desperation. And desperate he was. To disappear. To leave. To become nothing but a faded memory to everyone. Nobody would have to put up with him ever again.
The idea rooted and began to branch out. He couldn't let Deanna know what he was thinking, he had to get away from her. Will planted on an apologetic smile. "You're right, Deanna. I'm sorry." The smile faltered into a grimace he quickly tried to cover. "It will never happen again."
Deanna saw the array of emotions moving over Will's face. She didn't like the way his voice sounded, either. She dropped her vindictive thoughts as she dropped her arms to her sides. She released a breath slowly to find calmness. "Will, please tell me what's going through your mind." She tried to probe him, but met with resistance. "I've never seen you like this. I'd like to he-"
"I'm fine!" he abruptly cut her off. He didn't want her help, only wanted to get away from her. He began to feel panicky, his eyes darted from Deanna to the door.
"Please, Will!"
"Leave me alone!" he almost shouted. He saw the shocked look on her face and panic took over. "Look, Deanna, there's nothing....," he tried desperately for words to make her believe he was fine, but it was hopeless. He finally started backing towards his door, muttering "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His eyes were frantic and with one last look into Deanna's eyes, he shook his head and bolted out the door.
Deanna stood there in the now still room. The only sound was of her own anxious breaths. "What just happened?" she whispered to herself. Her mind went over the conversation and Will's body language. It took the psychologist only seconds to realize what might be going through Will's head. "Oh no! Imzadi!" She swallowed the scream that wanted to escape. "Computer, what is the location of Commander Riker?!" Deanna started towards the door as she asked.
"Commander Riker is located on deck 8, corridor A, in front of door 835," the feminine computer voice informed her.
~Oh good, he hasn't gone very far,~ Deanna thought hopefully as she ran down the hallway. When she turned the corner and didn't see Will her heart skipped a beat. She repeated her question to the computer and was given the same location. She couldn't understand how the computer could be wrong.... until she saw the shiny silver comm badge on the carpeted floor. She picked it up and knew it was Will's.
She held it in her hand tightly as despair brought new tears to her eyes. "This is all my fault!" She fell to her knees. "Please don't do it, Will," she whispered, then sobbed openly. "Where are you, Imzadi?"
TBC