"Worf. Worf, It's Beverly." Dr. Crusher said, tapping lightly on the outside of the door to Lt. Worf's quarters. "I thought you were going to check in with me after your shift. I'm concerned about you. I'd rather not have this conversation in the hallway. Now, quit ignoring me and open the damned door." She was trying to avoid overriding the locks.

The door slid open and she saw him sitting on the floor, his back against the couch and his – doubled over, his head resting on the table. She hurried to his side. "Worf. Hey, say something. Lieutenant?" He lifted his head slightly, giving her a sideways glance.

"Are you okay?"

"She needs you. She needs you more than I do" He said softly but firmly, turning his head from her.

"Worf?" The doctor said softly, bending down next to him.

"He's with her. I'm sure he's with her." He said, his hands trembling.

Deanna. She thought. Shit. "Let me help you to the bed. I'm going to give you something to help you relax … get some sleep."

She was prepared to argue with him, but he simply nodded.

"Then you'll help her?" He couldn't even say her name out loud.

"Yes. I'm sure Deanna is fine, but if it'll make you feel better. I will go by and check on her. Okay?"

She injected the sedative into his neck and was surprised to see tears falling down his face. He lay down and turned his back to her.

"Go. Help her."

Will Riker acknowledged felt somewhat silly as he rushed toward Deanna Troi's quarters, but there was a larger part of him that didn't care. He felt that something wasn't right and that was a good enough reason to be almost jogging as he exited the turbolift. Why did her cabin have to be at the very end of the corridor?

"Riker to Troi," he tried contacting her again through the ship's communication system. No answer. "Deanna, it's Will. I'm on my way to you. Can you hear me?"

"Imzadi, hurts … statue … please … help …"

She'd heard him. He picked up his pace again, knowing that she couldn't respond to him verbally – his fear for her well-being propelled him forward.

Dr. Beverly Crusher tapped the chime to alert Counselor Troi's quarters. No answer.

"Crusher to Troi." She said, tapping her combadge and tapping on the door. "Troi?"

Beverly quickly used her medical override on the door. Deanna's quarters were in complete disarray. There was a vase of flowers knocked onto the floor and broken, the dining room table toppled over, there was a small sculpture on the floor that normally sat up on a pedestal, a that had fallen over and was propped against the wall, and on top of the shattered coffee table lay the ship's counselor curled up and unconscious. Beverly bent down next to her.

"Deanna?" She said, lightly touching her shoulder. She felt Troi's body jerk away from the touch, but she didn't open her eyes. "Dea?" She allowed the doctor to take her hand. She watched as the counselor struggled to open her eyes, and let out a small grimace of pain as her body began to wake up.

"Will – please – get Will." Deanna breathed out the words through obvious pain.

"Can I help you up? I'd like to assess your injuries then I promise –" Deanna tried to push up from where she was laying and fell back down, crying out in pain.

"Please don't move, counselor. There's glass everywhere."

"Will -"

Beverly lifted her hand to hit her combadge when the commander entered the cabin, his face etched with concern.

"Of course." She muttered underneath her breath, suppressing a small grin despite the situation. She watched as the commander quickly took in the scene.

"What the hell happened?" He looked quickly at Beverly who was shaking her head in anger.

In an instant he was next to Deanna, ignoring Beverly's warnings to be careful of the glass. "Dea, I'm here." He said, brushing back her hair softly before reaching down and taking her hand. "Imzadi," he whispered close to her ear. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't – I shouldn't have left …"

"Wi–ill," Deanna said, gripping his hand tightly and trying to pul- up into a sitting position.

"Easy." He spoke softly, supporting her back.

Will and Beverly both gasped as they saw her face. She had several small cuts on her cheek with tiny pieces of glass in them and a gash on her forehead. Riker put a hand on her shoulder rubbing his thumb soothingly over her collarbone as she looked into his eyes.

"Your headache feeling better?" He asked with a smile.

"Hardly thinking about it." She whispered, gifting him with a small smile of her own that quickly faded. She put a trembling hand to his cheek, and he held it there.

"My … f-fault," she managed to say, her body beginning to shake harder.

He'd been afraid to touch her. So many things looked as if they were hurting, but he wrapped his arms around her body.

"No, Imzadi. It's not your fault. None of this." He felt the front of his shirt wet with her tears.

If only he knew the position she had put herself in, Deanna thought to herself as she squeezed him tightly to her despite the protests of pain from her aching body.

She felt a calming hand on her shoulder. She knew it was Beverly. Her friend. The only other person that could have walked into her quarters and knew where the chaos had emanated from. How would she tell Will? Would he be able to understand how she could put herself in such a dangerous role in someone's life even if she cared for them deeply? How could she accept his help when she'd chosen someone else and pushed him away for close to a year?

"Deanna," Beverly said softly, "Let's get you off the floor." Deanna looked up at the doctor, her teeth chattering. "You're going to be fine. I promise. Let me get a quick look at you, and I'll give you a little time with Will while I get some of the equipment I'm going to need. Okay?" She pushed Deanna's hair from her face, placing a comforting hand on her uninjured cheek. She watched as Deanna closed her eyes, biting down on her lip. Beverly took that as a yes.

"Will, can you help me get her to the couch? We need to get her warm. I think she's going into shock."

"Yeah, I got her." Beverly watched as Deanna slowly put her arms around Riker's neck. Her gaze frozen. She almost seemed to be numb as he lifted her up and gently set her on the couch. The doctor grabbed a throw blanket that was on the arm of the couch and wrapped it around the counselor's shoulders. She began to dab at the abrasions on Deanna's face with a damp washcloth to clear the blood.

"Deanna, can you tell us what happened? Beverly said Lt. Monroe told her he came here before going to sickbay. Did he do this to - to you?"

The counselor didn't answer, her gaze focused on something on the floor. She wouldn't look at either of them.

"Dea," he said, he took both her hands in his — one closed tightly into a fist and the other limp in his larger hand as he held it. She jumped at his touch, hissing in pain, but she did not pull away from him. Beverly glanced up from her ministrations.

"What's wrong?"

"She's had some bruising on her wrist, and she told me it was sprained." He opened his hand as Beverly touched down on Deanna's wrist lightly. Deanna continued to stare ahead.

"This is new. It almost looks like a boot print. I think it might be broken. Counselor, can you open your hand?" Deanna kept her fist closed tight.

Will rested his head in his hand. "Why the hell would he do this, Bev? He came by to thank her? Deanna has been his biggest support since he came here. His strongest advocate. And - and Sebastian shows up here before turning himself in to get help and trashes her cabin. Hurts her? I thought you said he was just tipsy."
"He was." She sighed. "Monroe genuinely seemed grateful."

"He leaned on the pedestal. The statue f-f-fell." She was so quiet, but they both jumped at the sound of her voice. Will saw the statue he'd given her their last night together before he left for the USS Hood. It was a special piece of artwork that came from a gallery she had taken him to several times while he was on tour to Betazed. The statue had a special compartment that opened when prompted by a single word. It had held a very important symbol of their love and to his knowledge only the two of them knew the password. He saw it on the floor, shattered into pieces, and completely empty.

"Hey, look at me, Deanna. I'm so sorry. I can get you another one. I will. Okay?"

She shook her head. Her chin quivering as tears fell down her cheeks.

"I was just on the floor picking up the pieces. I said - I said … It opened. He was so angry. I kept - I kept your mother's ring ssss - safe. He thought if he stood on my wrist I would let go, but - but I didn't … I've never seen him so mad."

Beverly glanced at Will, the concern in his eyes was palpable.

"I'm going to give you two a little time. I'll step into Deanna's bedroom and get Alyssa to transport the things I need." She stepped around him, wanting to say more – wanting none of this to be true. She and Deanna thought they could take care of the situation on their own and it had blown up in their faces – now her friend was hurt badly.

She felt Will stand up next to her, grabbing her arm. "Should we get Worf? Where is Worf? Shouldn't he be here? I mean security should be notified." Beverly's eyes met Deanna's. "Dea, it means so much that you want me here with you.I love you. If you need Worf, I'll go get him myself."

The counselor said nothing. She released her hand as she began to cry harder and Will Riker watched as a ring tumbled to the floor. A square diamond surrounded by bright blue sapphires. Deanna's hand now free, she covered her face, and sobbed.

Will looked to the doctor unsure how he'd unlocked her tears.

"He's off - duty. He wasn't feeling well. In fact, I checked on him, myself, before heading here."

"Worf is sick? I just saw him this morning. He seemed fine." Will began.

"P-please … No. I d-d don't want him here. Please, Imzadi. Please don't bring him – I can't see him. Please.."

He sat down next to her on the couch as Beverly took one last look in their direction and headed into Deanna's bedroom. She pulled off her lab coat and threw it on the bed.

She leaned her head against the wall. Repeating one word over and over.

"Damn. Damn. Damn."