IV

Fear and Consequence

¡§At first, her withdrawn moods terrified him. When she stared at him coldly, her bright blue eyes as hostile as a strange child¡¦s he was frantic.¡¨[iv]

Will¡¦s chrono-alarm rang.

He took his arm gently out from her head, careful as to not to wake her. She stirred, lifted her eyes open as much as she could, but at four ¡¥o clock in the morning, that was a feat like none other. She grinned slightly, and he smiled back, cooing her back to sleep, which she very gladly did.

He was accustomed to getting up when most had not, the silence helped with the personal process of compiling a story, one he had already somewhat started on, and needed building up; to a climax, whatever was after that, and then the resolution ¡Vwhich he had fresh in his mind long before The Dark Life had hit the market.

It was a routine repeated for the past, unforgettable, indescribably intense week. The two of them would discuss subjects varying from work to their childhood to their stances on certain issues, opening their hearts for things that everyone else had predicted but them.

~

The house creaked and moaned with age, and the counselor found herself with an irresistible urge to explore. All she had seen was Will¡¦s bedroom! It was the human thirst of her which beckoned to be quenched.

With permission, of course.

She was slightly disturbed by the subterranean house; by its dark, seemingly inhospitable environment for a Betazoid of her stature, and its echoing memories and lingering emotions, wasting away to the remembrance of those they belonged to. The brightest room was the conservatory, where the sun streamed in from the large paned windows, and Deanna found that she preferred this room to all the others.

She crept into Will¡¦s study, slowly, silently, watching as the author tended to his flock, his treasure, and put in a simpler way, his work. Shelves of books and other loosely bound papers soon enveloped Deanna, taking her in, almost as if they had eyes, as if they were measuring the depth of her soul and whether it was approved for her to enter such a sacred point for the owner of the house.

Will looked up, smiled rather casually, and then returned to his work.

Realizing she was probably treading on private ground, Deanna went out the way she came, in search of the kitchen.

~

¡¥Frank¡¦s family was the family Tom preferred over lack of his. Frank¡¦s mother, a gentle, kind, plump little woman never complained of Tom¡¦s nightly visits, when his relations began to crumble, when his life began to-¡¦

¡§Deanna?¡¨

She looked up, a little cross at the interruption. But there stood Andy, tall in his cadet uniform, and even she couldn¡¦t help but feel a little of the pride Will often emanated when around his foster son.

¡§What are you reading?¡¨

She closed the book and showed it to the young man. ¡§Your father¡¦s book. Thought I¡¦d give a try at it, but it seems too heavy for me.¡¨

He grinned. ¡§People often tell him that.¡¨

Deanna put it back where she found it, on the shelf which housed most of Will¡¦s work; from the short stories he published to first drafts collected loosely in folders he undoubtedly made himself, with its tattered corners and whatnot; he had collected everything.

¡§Where is Will, by the way?¡¨

~

In the kitchen, Will was hunched over the trash chute, emptying out what looked to be the lunch Deanna had prepared for him.

¡§Will? What the hell are you doing?¡¨

The trash compacter and the silencer was turned on, and as the food was mashed and emptied into who-knew-where, Will washed the plate and answered, ¡§Deanna¡¦s such a bad cook!¡¨[I]

Andy chuckled to himself, knowing Will had a high taste for such things.

¡§Shh...don¡¦t tell her!¡¨

Will¡¦s adopted boy only laughed harder.

~

¡§Deanna?¡¨

In a corner of Will¡¦s study, Deanna looked up from Tolkien¡¦s The Hobbit, and found Andy, PADD¡¦s and all, looking down at her as if she were some all-knowing guru with the answers.

¡§Sorry to disturb your reading, hopefully you¡¦re not like a certain author in here who lectures for an hour on the twenty-first century laws of privacy.¡¨

¡§I heard that.¡¨ Came Will, still buried in the clutter which buried his desk.

Why he didn¡¦t use PADD¡¦s, Troi would never know.

Smiling, Deanna shook her head. ¡§No, no,¡¨ She shut the book, ¡§don¡¦t worry about it.¡¨

Able to breathe again, Andy continued, ¡§I was wondering if you could help me with my homework.¡¨

~

He had been listening to their little tutorial session for quite some time now. Will found certain advantages to being expected to be too busy to even acknowledge their presence. Deanna¡¦s knowledge and experience in Starfleet Medical had proven to be helpful to the young lad who requested her aid, and in doing so, it imprinted an image familiar to the man.

[I] ¡VI borrowed the idea that Deanna¡¦s a bad cook from an author on the list, I¡¦m sorry, I hope you don¡¦t mind! I thought it made sense, since Will had to cook his own meals as a boy and all. I¡¦ll give you credit, if you want it, just holler.