Jleto-Thank you for the kind words! And you're definitely right about that haha, Troi moms don't let that crap go! I think you're going to enjoy this chapter ;-)

Zara08-Hahaha poor Picard indeed! I hope this winter isn't as bad for you as it was for us, oh my gosh I thought it would never end. I'll try to speed up my pace so you always have something to read! :-) I really miss when I was posting 2-3 times a week, hoping to get back to that!

JWood201-No, not a lame review at all! All of your reviews have been amazing, and I look forward to each one :-)

As the meeting dispersed, a new and brittle sense of hope seemed to settle over the bridge. One by one, officers returned to their posts. Kyle Riker paused on his way out, holding an upturned hand towards his son. "Will, a few words…"

But the commander ignored his entreaty, returning to the helm with his father staring forlornly after him. Then someone brushed past Kyle, jostling his shoulder. Carmen made her way to her own station without so much as a look back. Indignant, Kyle was about to make a retort when someone drew up alongside him. "I'm sorry," Troi said, and his anger quickly dissipated in the sweet sincerity of her smile.

"Quite alright," he assured, glancing sideways at her for a discreet study. She was a beautiful woman, by anyone's standards. Elegant, sophisticated, dainty even. What on Earth was she doing with a couple of hotheads like Will and Carmen? As they entered the turbolift together, he couldn't help but wonder how often she had to apologize for their behavior. "I'm just not sure what Picard was thinking," he sighed, "allowing that girl back on the bridge after what happened to her old captain."

The doors closed and all around them, the elevator thrummed to life with its smooth descent. "Oh, I wasn't apologizing for Carmen," Troi replied. "I was saying I'm sorry that a man as old and lonely as you would sabotage his relationship with the only family he's got left."

Kyle's blood ran cold. Small as she was, her shadow seemed to loom over him suddenly. I was wrong. There's nothing at all dainty about her. "Counselor," he protested. "I know you have developed a rapport with the girl. But she...she is not from here. She is not family. Surely you must understand that?"

"And how would you define family?" she replied. "A son you haven't seen in fifteen years who wants nothing to do with you?"

He felt his face reddening beneath the turbolift's bright lights. How much longer is this damn elevator going to take? "Do not presume to understand what we've been through-"

"It hurts, when you look at Will. You see your wife. You see a reminder of what you lost." The sound of her voice cut through him with graceful ease. "That's why you pushed him away, isn't it?"

"I don't remember scheduling a counseling session," he sneered. "But look here, Will was-"

"-stronger than you, given the chance. Where Carmen is from, he held onto that reminder of what he lost. He loved his daughter for it."

"I loved Will, too. Let's get that straight." Beneath his feet, Kyle felt the elevator come to a stop. But even as the doors opened, her gaze would not let him go.

"Carmen is like him, you know," she continued. "Because she had a whole ship full of faces to remind her of what she lost, and still, she chose to love. That makes her more than a soldier. That makes her more than you, even. Let's get that straight."

Now the silence cut through him, too. His jawline tightened. His shoulders drew up to their full height. "You're in my way, counselor," he growled.

"I am not in your way," she said, stepping aside as she sent him another smile. Its sincerity had not withered over the course of their exchange. "And neither is Carmen. I wish you could see that."

Kyle found little solace in Ten Forward. The atmosphere, like the muted murmur of conversation, felt unusually subdued. A pink and orange glow emanating from the windows failed to enchant him. For now, it merely stood as a luminous reminder of their imprisonment.

Every now and then someone stopped by to give Kyle their greetings. He recognized a few of the patrons from various missions and assignments he'd completed over the years. But he hadn't come to Ten Forward for their polite smiles, their mindless small talk. He had come there to let his anger simmer.

Troi's words dug into his thoughts. Who the hell did she think she was, bringing Betty into this? How dare she say aloud that which he had so carefully failed to acknowledge.

"Must run in the family," someone said. Kyle looked up into the face of a woman with rick, dark skin. Though her eyes looked kind enough, a cunning smile perched on the corner of her mouth.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Brooding. It must run in the family."

Kyle picked up his glass, watching neon blue Tarrin juice swirl around the bottom. "Who said I was brooding?"

"I've been a bartender for a long time, Mister Riker."

An irritable sigh escaped his lips as he shifted in his seat. "Do you mind? All I want is to finish my drink in peace."

That cunning smile leapt full across her face. "But that's not all you want, is it?"

"Did Counselor Troi put you up to this?" Kyle looked around the room, almost expecting to see the counselor pop out from behind a plant or a chair. "Look, I'm done grieving. I closed that door. I just wish...I wish Will would recognize how much strength that took."

"You can close the door on grief," she said, leaning her elbows over the counter. "But it will peek in through the window. Strength is going outside your walls, not hiding behind them. Strength is taking a walk with your grief. Have you tried that?"

Kyle drained the last of his juice, wishing it were an Acamarian brandy or something stronger. "What I've tried is Tarrin juice," he said, steering the conversation somewhere safe, somewhere painless. "But it was a little too bitter for my liking. What do you suggest next, bartender?"

"I suggest taking a walk," she said, and pushed off the counter with a wheeze of effort. Her burgundy robe billowed out behind her, following her to the other side of the bar where patrons awaited their orders.

Grumbling under his breath, Kyle left Ten Forward in a huff. But as he walked down the corridor, it didn't take long for his exasperation to turn inward. Betty would have hated to see it all come to this. He could almost hear the lecture she would have given him for letting fifteen years, a wedding, and a baby go by without so much as a call.

What would she think of Carmen, he wondered? Would she have welcomed the girl with open arms? Probably. She treated everyone like family. Kyle could picture her showing the young woman her China collection, each bowl and plate adorned with painted versions of her beloved harebell flowers. As for Billy, not even the Borg would have been able to keep her away from her only grandson.

And Troi-oh, she would have loved Troi. The counselor was just like Betty's closest friends, who were always insisting that she deserved better. They were right, of course. She did deserve better than him.

Suddenly, Kyle found himself in front of a door that was not his own. He hadn't expected his walk to take him there; it was as though his feet had followed his thoughts of their own accord. While he wavered on whether or not to ring the bell, a thought danced briefly across his mind. Maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to what Troi had said. Maybe, just maybe, Will deserved better than him, too.

The door opened before he could make up his mind. "I don't remember scheduling a counseling session," Troi quipped, leaning against the threshold with folded arms.

"May I come in anyway?" he asked. She stared at him evenly, and he could feel those Betazoid eyes prying his lips loose. "You...you said some interesting things back there."

"Did I?"

"Some...correct things."

Troi nodded, a gentle smile curving her lips. She moved further into the room, beckoning him to follow. "Come on in."