The stars were beautiful that night, but he never took the time to truly admire them. His duties were keeping him far too busy; he rarely ever had time to himself, and what was worse, he hardly spent time with her, with his wife, with his family.
He stood by the conference room's large view port, unaware that he wasn't alone. Will didn't even hear the doors hiss open, he didn't hear her stealthy walk in. He was somewhere else; in that secluded, quiet corner of his mind, where he retreated often when he was in pain. He hid this from her; or at least he tried to. When your wife is Betazoid, or even half Betazoid, there isn't much you can hide, especially after fourteen years of marriage.
She remained silent, as if not to disturb him. Deanna sensed he was in pain; she sensed his remorse, his regret, and his fear. She walked a little closer; but he didn't notice. Will didn't notice until he felt her hand on his shoulder, as she slowly turned him around. She stared at him intently, but he looked away. Will didn't want to face her; not now, not after what had happened. But, Deanna was determined to talk to him, to help him work through the pain and anger. She took his hand and led him to the conference table. When they were seated, she began, "Will, you can't keep doing this, it's not fair to you, and it's certainly not fair to our family."
He looked at her, and tried to form his defense, "No, it's not fair, Deanna," he said bitterly, "It's not fair that you're hurt, and I'm fine, all because you went on the away mission and I didn't. Damn it, it should have been me. I should be the one whose going to die because of this damn Logarian parasite."
"I can understand that you feel this way," said Deanna soothingly stroking Will's forearm, "but we can't change things, Will. We both have to accept the fact that I'm not going to be around for long, but Will, I want my last weeks to be full of joy. I want you and our children to remember me happy, and at peace with the universe, when I leave."
His wife's words brought tears to his eyes. It amazed him how Deanna was so calm and that she had accepted her fate. Will knew that his bitterness and anger was not healthy; and he wanted to make his ailing wife comfortable during her limited time with him and their family.
They walked into their quarters and found their children in tears on the couch. Their eldest, Teresa; now a beautiful twelve-year-old, held a small holo-padd in her hands. Their son Kyle, who was almost eight, the spitting image of his father, ran to his mother as soon as she walked through the door. The youngest, their two-year-old twins, Kestra and Ian were asleep at Teresa's side.
Teresa held out the holo-padd to her mother, "Mom," she said softly," we made this for you." Deanna took the padd from her daughter, and gently stroked her cheek, "thank you," she said almost at a whisper.
As the holo-padd displayed some of the Rikers' most treasured memories, they started to reminisce and little by little, the laughter, so often heard in their quarters, sounded again. It was almost as if came naturally for a Riker to make a dim situation seen a little less dim; Will had always taught his children that a joke, in good taste, can cheer anyone up; this night, it was his children that taught him that they would be able to survive and succeed. He knew that Deanna would be with him through them, with every laugh and precious moment, she was there; and he vowed to be there too. Deanna sensed his silent vow, and turned to him, "No regrets, Will, only remembrance." He turned to her and replied, "Just remembrance, I promise."