Thank you for your patience. I've had part of this chapter for quite a long time. I wrote a lot in one sitting and haven't edited yet. So, please be merciful if there are typos. I'll go in and fix them later. Let me know what you think! - A

Chapter 3

"Everything is fine here." Alyssa reported to the CMO. "Dr. Selar came on duty about 15 minutes ago."

"Alyssa, would you go into my office for a second? I need your help with something."

"Of course, doctor." Beverly patted her lab coat pocket, an unconscious movement to check and see if her tricorder was still there. "Okay, I need this to stay between you and me. It's very important. I will fill Dr. Selar in at a later time."

"I understand."

"I need an abrasion kit transported to Counselor Troi's quarters along with hypo sprays for pain, anxiety, and a mild sedative for sleep." She stopped for a moment to gather herself and sighed out the last request. "Also, a bone knitter."

"Doctor, is she going to be alright?" Ogawa asked worriedly.

"I can't say much. It'll - it'll take some time … She's pretty shaken up." Beverly shook her head in frustration, easing herself down in the chair next to Deanna's bed. "I want you to set up a private room for her – just in case I need to bring her into Sickbay. I want it to be as far away from Lt. Monroe as possible and if Dr. Selar or any of the staff have any questions you can direct them to me. Understood, Alyssa?"

"Yes, doctor. I'll go gather the equipment you requested. Oh, and doctor … Captain
Picard left about 15 minutes ago. He came in to check on the Lieutenant and make sure his committing himself to Sick Bay went smoothly. He asked where you were."

Great, Beverly mumbled under her breath.

"I told him you had to check on a patient and then would be off duty until morning. You'd been working a lot of extra hours …"

"Right … Just for future notice when I ask how things are – maybe you could lead with that Lt."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'll check in with the Captain. Crusher out."

It was going to be a long night.

Will held Deanna against him as she continued to cry silently.

He pulled away the ice pack that he had been holding against her forehead and placed a kiss by the cut on her head.

"Dea, was this table shattered before or after you were on top of it?"

"Before," she whispered, looking away from him.

"Hey," he said, guiding her to look back at him. "You shouldn't feel ashamed to talk about this Deanna. None of it is your fault."

"You don't know that, Will. I'm not perfect."

"Really? You're pretty perfect to me." He flashed her a smile and she grinned at him for a moment. Then, her face clouded over.

"What - what is it? Can you tell me?"

She shook her head as he squeezed her hand.

"Deanna, it's me …"

"It reminds me …" She stopped crying for a moment to catch her breath. "It feels like .."

He wrapped her into his arms. The pain arrived before her words.

Will felt her breath on his neck as she released the word.

"Grant."

"No. No, Dea. It's not the same thing at all. I understand why you would make the connection, but don't let your mind go there."

"Will …" She sighed, wiping at her eyes as she looked up at him. "This she said …" gesturing to her home that was in shambles. "This wasn't Bastion."

He stared at her, both of them remaining silent. Then a focus came to his eyes and she knew the pieces were falling into place.

"Who else would have …" Will's voice trailed off as Deanna began to cry a bit harder. He thought of the conversation he'd had with Geordi and Data earlier, Deanna's reluctance to call security, and the pain of her past that had been unearthed by whatever had happened earlier in her cabin.

"Worf." He watched her as she shook. Will stood up raking his hands through his hair. "Worf did . . . all of this." He said, his voice rising somewhat with the realization of the pain his friend had caused. The man that he had trusted to be honorable and to protect the woman he had loved for more than a decade. "He - he hurt you?"

"Easy, Will." He heard Crusher re-enter behind him. "You don't know the whole story …"

"What?" He said, looking over at her. He bent down next to Deanna. His voice softened as he felt her flinch next to him, but the rage could still be felt under the surface. He tried to calm his anger for Deanna. He knew she was feeling too much pain already - physically, emotionally. "What the hell . . . Beverly, you don't know the whole story and neither did he … He put a soft hand to Deanna's cheek. "Imzadi …" He whispered. "I am so sorry."

That was when Deanna stood.

"He's hurting. I'm the only one that he'll open up to …"

Will reached for her. "So you put yourself in danger? Deanna? He hurt you. You're hurting."

She stepped away from him as if she needed to put space between them physically and emotionally.

He thought about her sprained wrist. "This has happened before?"

"Woh, Counselor." Beverly said gently as Troi held tightly to the arm of the couch as she began to sway. "I don't really want you on your feet. I haven't even gotten a chance to examine you. Will, this can wait, right?"

"Of - of course. It's just … I was caught off guard. Dea, it's not important right now. We can talk about it when you're ready. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded but didn't sit or turn around.

"Deanna, I'm going to try and treat you here?. Okay? Can Will and I help you into the other room so I can check you out?"

"You won't leave?" Deanna asked. Beverly tried to be patient as Will gathered himself.

"No. I'm not going anywhere. Will you let me touch you, Dea?"

"Yes."

He put his arms softly around her shoulders guiding her to the bathroom where the doctor had set up her equipment at Deanna's vanity. Riker helped her sit down into the chair and placed a blanket over her lap. "I'll let you talk with Beverly." He said, looking to Crusher for assurance. She nodded as she stood over the counselor. "I'm just going to be cleaning up." Both women knew that Riker needed to take a minute to breathe and release some of the emotions he was holding at bay. Beverly knew Deanna needed someone to speak to that was aware of the situation before she could be completely open with the Commander. He squeezed Deanna's hand.
"You're not going -" She began, he knew she needed him here with her. He also knew that she didn't want him to confront Worf, and he wouldn't - not yet.

"Imzadi, I promise. I'm just going to put things back together out there. All Beverly has to do is call if you need me."

He felt her trembling, but after a moment she released his hand.

"Okay."

Beverly was already running her tricorder over Deanna as he turned to leave the room.

As the door shut behind him, Beverly heard her speak softly, her hands fiddling with the blanket,

"The medicine isn't working?" She asked.

"Deanna, it really is foreign territory. I'm having a hard time finding the correct dosage. There really isn't any precedent for medicating a Klingon who is suffering from such a severe form of depression."

"Do you think he's taking it?"

"Yes …"

"You saw him. Was he okay?"

Beverly bent down in front of her friend, placing her hands on Deanna's knees. There was dried blood on her cheek, her forehead was already bruising, her wrist was broken and she had numerous small cuts on her arms and back from the shattered glass of the table. Crusher thought of how to answer.

"He was worried about you. He wanted me to come and check on you. He thought someone would be with you … I assumed he meant Lt. Monroe. I thought he was fearful of your safety."

"It was Will. He thought I would be with Will." She held onto Beverly's hands. "It's done, Bev. I mean I was finished before, but I can't help him anymore."

"I know."

"Will - he'll be so angry that we didn't come to him, that I didn't bring up how much Worf was struggling during crew evaluations. I don't think patient confidentiality will be enough."

"He was causing harm." Bev said gently, wiping tears from Deanna's face.

"Yes, he - he was."

"I'm so sorry. I thought I had it under control. I thought we could help him. I didn't know - I never thought … Here, I'm going to give you something to help calm you down."

Deanna grabbed the hypospray before Beverly could press it against her neck.

"He used his security code, Beverly. He came in without permission."

As Deanna released Beverly's hand, she felt the hypo press against her overstimulated skin. She allowed her friend to begin working on her wrist and to try to push away the images, but they kept coming, even when she couldn't find the words.

After Will left, she had taken a hot shower, put on a pair of black satin pajamas which she would later regret had no sleeves, and laid down on the couch with an ice pack over her eyes. She was drifting off to sleep when the door signal chimed. It was Lt. Monroe. She told him it wasn't a good time. He seemed genuinely concerned about her – telling her she looked tired and promised he would take up very little of her time. He was a little tipsy but coherent and in some ways very grounded. She allowed him to stay. True to his word, he thanked her for the time she spent working with him, helping him, and advocating for him. He apologized. He spoke of his intentions to fight against his addiction, to become healthy again, and to be a beneficial part of his daughter's life. Deanna had hugged him, wished him well, and when he stepped back to leave he lost his balance grabbing onto the pedestal that held a beautiful, but incredibly heavy scultpture - an important gift from Will Riker. At that moment, downplayed any concern over what was ultimately an accident. The statue was cracked but mendable. Deanna's head was pounding and she encouraged Monroe to head to sickbay so that he wouldn't be late for his meeting with Doctor Crusher.

The statue was cracked. Turned slightly when the pedestal was uprighted it would be unnoticeable. Her concern was that it had crashed hard enough it might not work anymore. There was a special gift inside - Will's mother's engagement ring that he had given her when he asked her to meet him on Risa to marry him. A meeting that never happened. He had never asked for the ring back, eventually confessing that no matter what happened in their future there was no other woman he would want to have his mother's ring. She'd sat on the floor next to it, her headache still swelling with pain. She chose to say the word out loud instead of opening the secret compartment telepathically.

"Imzadi," she said quietly. She smiled as a piece of the marble slid open. She reached inside and there it was that beautiful blue stone surrounded by the most clear, sparkling diamonds. She slid it onto her ring finger reflecting on the choices she had made with Will. With Worf over the past month … the ending of their relationship. Worf had been offered a position at DS9. His parents weren't doing well, his mother was especially ill. He wasn't able to see Alexander very much, not that they were often on speaking terms lately. He thought it would be good to be in one place for a while. So, his son could visit. So that he would be closer to Earth. They knew that their relationship was reaching an end. Not that Worf would admit to it. When he asked her to go with him she was surprised. She couldn't understand why he thought that her answer would be anything other than no. He was already hurting about so many things that he had chosen to suppress and now he felt she had offended his honor. In his defensiveness, he found it easier to make it all about Will. She didn't want to leave because of Will Riker. Why had she even begun a relationship with him? Her heart would always belong to the commander. It was easier than facing the truth. The truth was she and Worf were great friends, they had both been lonely, and it had never really worked.

She knew he was depressed. She'd known for a while, but how do you approach such a subject with a Klingon? His anger and outbursts became worse as his mother's condition worsened. He felt he would be letting the captain down by leaving his post for an extended period of time. Alexander, who was raised for quite a long time by Worf's parents, was furious with his father, believing that duty to one's family was just as important as duty to the ship. They needed him on Earth. Alexander had been there for a few weeks taking care of his dying grandmother and assisting his grandfather who had become quite frail over the past year. Things were exacerbated by Worf's brother, the prodigal son, who had returned home recently to be with his mother as she didn't have much longer to live.

Deanna had seen the cracks in Worf's armor. His struggle to remain on board when over the past 8 years he hadn't seen his mother very often and his great love for her - the fact that he may not get to say goodbye.

Even though they were no longer together. She had been there to listen, knowing that to get him to open up to her about his feelings and regrets was a challenge. There was no way she was going to get him to talk to any other qualified counselor on board. And what if it got out? She knew it was unethical. She knew she should have brought it up with Will over the past few months at crew evaluations. Deanna knew it would be a great betrayal to him. He was already unnecessarily wounded where Riker was concerned. Wasn't he?

Things had changed over the last few weeks. The depression he was trying to smother down was coming out as rage and affecting his sharpness on the Bridge. He was making mistakes that were only adding to the cycle of shame, anger toward himself, and fears that if he couldn't even perform his job properly why was he staying away from his mother. She had encouraged him more than once to take the shore leave, to go talk to Alexander face to face, to go be with his mother. At times things would get heated. He would grab her wrist when she would reach up to comfort him, forgetting his strength, and not realizing how much he was being affected by anxiety and depression. A couple of times he had accidently left deep bruising, a few times conversations had escalated and had frightened her. Him getting in her face and she stumbling backwards. One night he had started to cry harder than she had ever seen him cry since this all started. He sat on the floor of his quarters and begged for help. He would do anything. Respect the boundaries she had made, see another counselor, admit that he was sick … that was the night she had contacted Beverly. She had given Worf something to sleep and when they had gone back to Deanna's quarters she confessed everything to Beverly. How trapped she felt, how she had ended the relationship but felt like she couldn't leave him or refuse to be there to listen when she knew there was no one else for him to talk to, how she couldn't go to Will. It was the night she had shown Beverly her sprained wrist which she had sprained trying to calm Worf after one of his breakdowns.

They met with him the next morning. Beverly had talked him into trying medication and explained to him that it might take a few tries before they found the right dosage to help him considering that mental health care for Klingons was never researched fully because of the culture. No Klingon was going to admit to being depressed or anxious. Yet, one had. They would help him. Deanna made a firm boundary, telling him that she would confer and give notes to a therapist she respected on Betazed and that they could speak over subspace. She could only be there for him as a friend. At that moment, Worf had agreed. One week ago.

Deanna stood up, she sat the statue on the table so that she could repair it later, and went to the replicator to get some lavender tea. Worf and Sebastian had been mirrors of each other as of late. One now going to get the help he needed. The other still drowning in his pain. She looked down on the ring on her hand, Will. How was she going to explain any of this to him? Their relationship was already tense and now she'd kept so much from him. How could she expect him to overlook any of this? He was still her commanding officer.

She sat back down on the couch, pulling the soft blanket over her, and closed her eyes, sipping the tea. She heard her quarter's door slide open. There was one person that the door opened for automatically and she wasn't due to see him until breakfast in the morning.

"Will," she whispered, opening her eyes. Only it wasn't Will, it was Worf pacing back and forth in her living area.

When he heard her say the first officer's name, he stopped momentarily, looking at her perplexed. "You were expecting the commander at this time of night?"

She was in pain, she was exhausted, and she was angry. His fire was about to be met with some of her own.

"That is none of your business, Lt." She said using his rank against him. "Did you come into my home without requesting entrance? Did you override the door with your security code?"

"I needed to talk to someone. I needed help and -"

"And you knew that I wouldn't let you in because you agreed to talk with your counselor about things like this, not show up at my cabin in the middle of the night … You agreed to this boundary Worf. If you were any other patient, I would be calling for security right now." She said sternly.

"Even Bastion?"

He knew.

"Worf, are you keeping a watch on me?"

"No, Deanna. I am watching him. He is unstable and at times dangerous."

She just stared at him, her arms crossed, and hoped he might realize that he was also describing himself.

"Worf, I am tired. I am asking you to leave."

"And I am here to tell you that this plan, this plan that you and Beverly came up with IT IS NOT WORKING."

"Worf," she said in a more calming way to step closer to him, "It takes time. The medicine can take up to six weeks to work completely and may require a dosage change. Why don't you stop by and see Beverly in the morning?"

"I need this to stop now .. all of it, Deanna. I can't -"

She would try one more time to get him to leave and then she would give in and listen. She knew that she would. This man before her had been born into an aggressive culture, orphaned, was proud, and combative. Even human men had a hard time admitting they needed help with mental health. Worf was a proud man and he was asking her for her help.

"Worf, I'm sure that Gart - Dr. Xerx, will be able to talk with you sometime tomorrow." She looked down and when she met his eyes she spoke as soft as a whisper attempting to de-escalate the situation. "Do you want me to have to call your own team to remove you from my quarters?" Tough love. Deanna gestured toward the door. When she did the ring on her hand caught the light and she noticed the sparkle the moment he did. He came toward her and she took a protective step back, slipping the ring off her hand, and holding it within her first.

"Do not hide it from me, Deanna! I saw the ring."

"I asked you to leave."

"First Alexander contacted me over subspace right before my shift to tell me that my mother may only have a week to live, then we were testing the new torpedo guiding system and I made mistake after mistake because of this medicine that YOU and Dr. Crusher recommended is making me fatigued and unable to concentrate … The captain questioned me in front of the entire Bridge crew. I have been nauseous and weak. I may lose my job, I am losing my mother, and I am a shameful excuse for a Klingon. And now I come here and you refuse to help me even though you know I will be required to do another shift in the hours before I can get in touch with my therapist." He spat out the word distastefully. "And you're engaged. You went back to him? Or maybe you were always seeing him behind my back? Could it be the reason you left me in the first place?"

"I ended our relationship, Worf. I have not left you. Not once, even though I should've stepped away." She told herself to stay calm but she couldn't keep the frustration out of her voice.

"Let me see," He demanded, trying to pull her hand from behind her back.

"Do not touch me."

"He's the only one who can touch you now, I suppose."

"Troi to -"

She was frozen in place, his movement stalling her from calling for help. She watched as the rage overcame him. He turned over the dining room table. She watched as everything, including her uneaten dinner tumbled to the floor. He picked up the statue, smashing the coffee table into pieces.

"Give me the ring." He seethed, knocking over a chair to get closer to her. Deanna lost her footing, falling into the shards of glass in front of the couch. She was trying to crawl away, not even feeling the glass pierce her skin, until he stepped hard on her wrist. She yelled out in pain. His angry eyes on her, she squeezed her fist even tighter around the ring. It was as if someone else had taken over his body and her sharp scream had awakened the real Worf. His whole body began to shake with the realization of what he had done. He lifted his foot off her arm. Shocked by the scene before him, he dropped the statue in his hand, and the sound of the doors shutting behind him was the last sound she remembered before blacking out.

"Deanna, hey are you with me? You faded out for a bit." Beverly said with concern. Deanna nodded. "Your wrist was a clean fracture. I didn't need to set it. There may still be some soreness because of the prior injury, but it should be better in a few days."

"He wasn't himself, Bev. He wanted to ring. I wouldn't give it to him. I tried to make him leave.

I tried to call for help. It wasn't him. He was someone else."

The doctor pulled her friend into a hug, kissing the top of her head. "You're safe now, Dee."

"He's sick. We knew he was sick. He knew he wasn't supposed to be alone with you. He agreed to the terms of the plan that we made. He signed off on the counselor, the medication, and the circumstances under which he could contact you. He signed the padd. I have it in my office. I checked on him right before I came here … if only I'd gotten to him a little sooner … I'm so sorry this happened."

When she pulled back Deanna put a hand to her head, it was throbbing even worse than before. She felt as if she might be sick.

"You have a concussion." Deanna nodded.

"You hit your head?"

"On the edge of the end table … luckily they weren't glass as well. Just one more thing he would've destroyed."

Beverly watched as Deanna's face paled and with the instinct of a physician she quickly helped her stand and helped her as she vomited into the toilet. She wiped a cool rag over Deanna's face and neck, giving her a small bit of water to sip. When she seemed to have calmed she wrapped her arms around the counselor to help lift her from the floor and Deanna screamed loudly in pain, turning her head to be sick again. Concussion. Abrasions. Glass in her skin. A fractured wrist. What had the doctor missed? She knelt down next to her friend.

"Deanna, what is it?"

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"I touched you and something hurt so badly that you vomited and you're telling me that it's fine."

"It's nothing, doctor. Please just leave it alone. In fact, I can get up on my own. Thank you."

"Dee? Please, let me see."

Beverly carefully reached for the counselor's camisole, gently lifting it up as Deanna began to sob.

"My God." She said as she caught sight of the counselor's left side. There was a large, deep bruise from just under her arm to close to her waist. A few areas had dried blood. A severe hematoma across her ribs. Beverly ran the tricorder over the area - two broken ribs, two cracked, and minor internal bleeding. "Deanna, what … what did this?"

She watched as Deanna tried to breathe past the pain, to calm herself to speak.

"When Worf realized what he'd done. It was like he came out of some time of hypnosis. His hand instinctively dropped the statue he had been holding … he'd used it to break the table … he dropped it and left. I couldn't move out of the way in time. I was in shock. I -"

Beverly thought about the heavy piece of art given to Deanna by Will broken on the floor. She sighed.

"I had Alyssa prepare a private room for you in case I needed to bring you in. Only she and I know about it. Deanna, I can't fix this here."

"No. Please, Beverly, I just want to go to sleep in my own bed. You can give me something to sedate me. You can do that? I - I don't want to leave … I don't want anyone to know."

That was the moment that Will Riker entered the room.

"Everything is all cleaned up. It looks a little empty but you can fix that when you're up to it." He saw the tears streaming down Deanna's face and followed down to where Beverly was examining her. His eyes watered.

"Imzadi -" He said, unable to believe what he was seeing and marry it with the knowledge of who had hurt her.

"Will, we're going to need to take her into sickbay." Deanna turned from him, pulling her shirt down and curling up into herself … her head resetting on the edge of the tub. "She's bleeding internally and her ribs are in bad shape." He nodded. Sitting down next to the woman who knew him better than anyone, running his hands through her hair. Why couldn't she have just come to him?

"Deanna," he whispered. "Will you come with me? I'll stay with you the whole time … I promise."

"I can't stop thinking of Mother. I can't stop seeing her on the floor. I keep feeling his hand on me. I can't make it stop." She whispered to him. "He hurt her so much. He wouldn't … he wouldn't leave."

He remembered her mentioning Grant and how hard it was for her to share that story with him when they had entered into a serious relationship. The only other time she'd been hit by a man. The reason she'd become a counselor. There were so many painful things they held in their hearts for each other. Her mind was mixing the memory with what happened with Worf. The Klingon could never know the things he'd ripped open inside this gentle, caring woman.

Beverly's patience was wearing thin. Above all she was a physician and she wanted to get her patient and friend the help she needed.

"Will," Beverly bent down next to them, "You know where she is don't you? In her mind?"

"Yeah." He said.

"The whole story?" She asked, referring to his earlier comment.

"Yeah."

"Dee," he said, putting his hand gently on her shoulder. "Grant isn't here. Neither is Worf. You're safe. You know you have to go to Sickbay, don't you?"

She nodded. "Hurts so much."

"I know," he said, wiping her tears as she turned toward him.

Deanna put her arms around him, burying her face in his neck.

Riker nodded to Crusher as he lifted the ship's counselor from the floor.

"Crusher to Transporter room. Three to transport to Sickbay." Will listened as she gave the coordinates to the private room she'd prepared for Deanna.

"You're telling me this was an accident," Will asked harshly, his voice filled with emotion.

"I'm telling you that they're both hurting."