So sorry for the long delay. It's been rough around here. My dog was killed, and she was only seven years old. I had her since she was a pup. Just two days ago, we decided to take the leap and get another puppy. So my heart has been on the mend, but anyone who has loved a dog knows the kind of pain that comes with losing one. Anyways, I'm grateful to finally get back into writing and "escape" to the Enterprise. I hope you're still with me!

Somehow, the days turned into years. The tide of grief ebbed. And for the first time in a long time, Will felt the ground beneath his feet.

He delved into fatherhood with a newfound zeal. Carmen rarely left his sight. She cut her teeth on official Starfleet business. Even during debriefings, she could be found under the table, playing quietly at her father's feet. But as Carmen grew, so did her propensity for trouble.

With the Romulans starting a new war, Will found himself spending more and more hours on the bridge. So it was with great relief when she finally came of age to begin her formal education and have something productive to fill her time.

Will's relief, however, proved to be nothing more than false hope. Her recklessness often led to a stopover in sickbay. Or at the very least, a dreaded page from Ms. Gleaves.

"Gleaves to Riker."

Will had just settled into his chair at the helm. Beside him, a wry grin tugged at the captain's lips. Though these pages were becoming a regular interruption, he held a soft spot for the child that made it easy to overlook such inconveniences. For she served as a reminder to the battle-worn captain of his gentler nature.

Will, much less amused, sank down into his chair. "Riker here," he replied.

"Could you meet me at my desk? It's about Carmen. Again."

"Can it wait?"

"I'm afraid not. I won't be allowing her to continue her studies today."

Picard offered a sympathetic smile. "Go on, Number One. Things are quiet at the moment. I'm sure the bridge can run without you for a few minutes."

As Will entered the office, he found Ms. Gleaves sitting behind a massive desk. Carmen faced her, sitting in a much smaller chair and doing her best to slink out of view as her father approached.

"Well? What's this all about?" Will asked. He came to a stop next to Carmen's chair, ignoring the second, empty one meant for him.

"Show him your hands," Ms. Gleaves ordered. Will noticed then that she had been sitting on her hands in order to hide them from view.

"Carmen?" he prompted. She cringed at the sound of her name. But obediently, she pulled her hands out. As she extended them towards him, Will's face flooded with concern. His chest rose with a sharp intake of breath. "What happened? What did you do?" He took hold of her hands to better examine the bloody abrasions, the purple, swollen knuckles.

"I didn't start it," she mumbled.

The cold, hard expression on Ms. Gleaves' face grew even colder and harder. "Didn't start it? The other children said you threw the first punch."

Will's jaw clenched. "You punched somebody?"

"He called me a cheater, daddy! But I would never cheat! Worf said cheating is dishonorable-"

"That's enough," he growled, dropping her hands in disgust. "Ms. Gleaves, we can finish discussing this later. Right now, I need to take her to sickbay."

"I've already called Dr. Crusher. She's busy treating Reynold Clancy in Classroom 8."

"It was Reynold Clancy?" Will frowned, recalling how the boy had just recently lost his father. Many of the children aboard the Enterprise, Carmen included, were down to one parent. If that.

"Yes it was. I expect a verbal and written apology from Carmen. You must see to it that she returns his rock collection as well."

Will sent his daughter a scathing scowl. "You hit him and took his rock collection?"

"I didn't take it," she insisted, folding her arms defensively. "I won it. Fair and square."

"Won it?"

Ms. Gleaves rubbed at her temples with a hissing sigh. "Sir, have you been teaching your daughter poker?"

Will swallowed. His harshness withered, and he looked suddenly as guilt-stricken as the young girl. "Well, uh...yes, as a matter of fact."

"And you think that's an appropriate activity for a seven-year-old?"

"It's just a card game," he deflected.

"She's been teaching the others without my knowledge. Children should not be making wagers, commander. It propagates greed. And greed propagates violence. Your daughter needs to learn that violence is not the answer. That mankind has progressed beyond such...such barbaric behavior."

"I'll have another talk with her, Ms. Gleaves," Will promised.

"I'm afraid a simple lecture will not remedy this sort of behavior. There's more going on here than you realize." She sighed again, and this time, her shoulders sank wearily. "Am I correct that her mother was of Betazoid descent?"

Will stiffened. "Step out, Carmen," he ordered. The young girl glanced between her father and her teacher, concerned by the tension thickening the air.

"But dad-"

"I said step out."

Begrudgingly, Carmen hoisted herself from her seat and shuffled out of the room. Will waited until he heard the door close behind her before proceeding.

"Leave her mother out of this," he warned.

"I meant no disrespect." She attempted to placate him with a smile. "And I know this is a difficult subject for you. But I'm only trying to help. Please...take a seat."

Will glanced at the empty chair beside him. Rigidly, he lowered himself into it. Ms. Gleaves pulled herself closer to her desk.

"Thank you. Now does Carmen have Betazoid blood or not?"

"She does."

Ms. Gleaves nodded gravely. "And have you ever noticed any...special abilities?"

Will tilted his chin upwards. "No, I...I have not."

"Commander…" She clasped her hands together in a fashion that betrayed unease. But Ms. Gleaves? Nervous? "The other day, Carmen approached me after class. We don't exactly see eye to eye, so I was surprised. She asked me about her mother."

It felt like someone dropped a brick in Will's stomach. "What did you tell her?" he hastily asked.

"I told her that she should be asking you." Ms. Gleaves' fingers fluttered, breaking through her attempt to be still and business-like. "As I understand it...you don't wish for Carmen to know anything about her mother?"

"You understand correctly."

She waited patiently for him to expound. But when it became clear that he didn't intend to, she leaned further over her desk. "Commander, you can't just pretend that Carmen didn't have a mother. This isn't the way to cope with grief. You're robbing your daughter of-"

"I'm not the one who robbed her!" Will bellowed. Ms. Gleaves shrank back, startled by his sudden outburst. "You think I want to pretend that Deanna didn't exist? I wish Carmen could know everything about her! I wish Carmen could know that her favorite flower was orchids. That she loved the color purple and chocolate sundaes and doing those ridiculous Mok'bara classes with Worf." Tears choked his anger. He fought to steady his breath before continuing. "Those creatures out there...the Borg...I know that's what happened. I know that's who took her. And I've seen it too many times. People come across their loved ones who have been assimilated, and they can't handle it. They can't fight back. Carmen...she's a fighter. Sure, she's reckless and impulsive and a little hard to handle. But I won't let the Borg use Deanna against our own daughter. I won't let them take that fight away. That's why she can never know too much about her mother."

Will turned his head to the side, unwilling to acknowledge the tears that spilled from their banks. Ms. Gleaves fell silent, letting him suffer with dignity. After a time, she summoned the nerve to speak again. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Truly, I am. But there's something else you should know."

Will glanced at her sideways. "What do you mean?"

"About Carmen. I think she has her mother's abilities. She told me that...that you get angry sometimes. When she brings up Deanna." Will closed his eyes and gripped the sides of his chair. Cautiously, Ms. Gleaves continued. "It's understandable, given what you've been through. But Carmen doesn't know what you've been through. She doesn't know how to tell your anger from pain. What if she's internalized it? Guilt is not good for a child to carry. It can create self-loathing. Destructive behavior."

Will's shoulders slumped forward. His eyes glazed over with the smoke of an agonizing fire that once burned hot in his chest. Ms. Gleaves carried on. "If you want Carmen's behavior to change, then you need to deal with what happened. You need to let go of the past, commander. You need to say goodbye."

Will trudged down the hall, each heavy step leading him farther down the wing of classrooms. For years, he had carried his burden in secret, in silence, unwilling to let it go. And always, he had feared that Carmen would one day become aware of a missing piece and its broken, jagged edges that cut into their lives. He had never meant for her to feel his pain.

Up ahead, one of the doors opened. A woman with flame-colored hair stepped out. "Will!" she hailed. "Did you hear what happened?"

"Yes, I just spoke with Ms. Gleaves," he replied, pulled away from his sullen thoughts. "How is Reynold?"

"He'll be fine." The doctor smiled reassuringly. "A broken nose. Bruised ego. Nothing permanent."

"And Carmen?"

Beverly's smile faltered. "What do you mean? I thought she was with you."

"No. I sent her out here awhile ago."

"Maybe she went ahead to sickbay?" Beverly's hand reached up to tap her combadge. But Will shook his head, expelling a deep breath at the same time.

"It's alright. I think I know where she is."