Will Riker was so focused on his task that he wasn't sure he had really heard the familiar chime of his door. A second later he shook his head to clear the haze and said "Come in."

"Will," said a familiar voice. He turned to see Deanna Troi. "You're late for poker. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," said Will. He checked the computer - had he really lost track of time that badly? "You know what, you can tell the others to start without me."

Deanna took a step forward. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Researching my family history," he said.

"Family history? I don't recall you being interested in that before."

"It's for my father," Will said. "I just found out that he's dying."

"Will, I'm so sorry," Deanna said, putting her hand on his arm. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No," he said. "Well… maybe you can help me with this. He asked me to finish this family tree he's been working on for years." He pointed to one point on the computer screen. "This is as far back as he's gotten. He can't find anything beyond that."

"Aaron Driscoll," Deanna said, reading the name on the screen. "1984-2063."

"I can't figure out where he came from," Will said. "The computer says that all his identification papers were forged. And there aren't many photos of him."

"What else do you know about him?"

"He was a carpenter who lived in Haines, Alaska. He married a Tlingit woman and had two daughters, Jane and Andrea. I'm descended from Jane."

"Well, this sounds like an interesting project," Deanna said. "I'd love to help you with it. Where do we start?"

Will got up. "The holodeck."

On the holodeck, Will managed to recreate what Haines, Alaska looked like in the early 21st century. He and Deanna walked down the gravel road toward the Driscoll home, which looked out over a lake. Will rang the doorbell.

A middle-aged man came to the door. He was recreated using a DNA sample, and he looked exactly like he had in his photo. "Who are you?" he asked suspiciously. "What are you wearing?"

"I'm Will Riker," Will said. "I'm your descendant."

Aaron laughed dryly. "My what? Are you fuckin' high, man?"

"Mr. Driscoll," Deanna said, "I know this might be hard to understand, but you're not real. You're a program on a reality simulator called a holodeck. The real Aaron Driscoll has been dead for centuries. We can't hurt you, and you can't hurt us. May we come in?"

Aaron stared at them in confusion, then shrugged. "Yeah, sure, I guess. I've heard crazier shit. If you were lying, you'd say something that made sense."

Will and Deanna came inside and sat down on the couch. Aaron sat down across from them.

"So what do you want?" Aaron asked.

"I just want to find out about you," Will said. "I know Aaron Driscoll isn't your real name."

Aaron reached for the gun in his holster. Will reached for his phaser, but then he remembered what Deanna had said: he can't hurt you, and you can't hurt him.

"Go ahead, shoot me," he said. "The bullets in your gun aren't real. You'll see that I'm telling the truth."

Aaron put the gun away. "No," he muttered. "I'm not a killer. Not anymore."

"Not anymore?" Will repeated. "So you used to be?"

"That's all behind me," Aaron said. "I left it all behind."

"But you carry a gun for protection," Deanna said. "You're afraid."

"You can't be too careful," Aaron said.

"Mr. Driscoll - "

"Call me Aaron."

"Aaron," Deanna repeated. "I'm an empath. I can sense people's emotions. I can't sense your emotions because you're a holodeck program. But I've been a counselor for long enough to know when someone is hiding something. And you're hiding something."

"What's the point of dredging up the past?" Aaron said. "I've built a new life for myself. I'm clean. I've got a wife and kids."

"Your kids," Will asked. "Jane and Andrea. Are they named after anyone special?"

"How do you know their names?" Aaron asked.

"I'm from the future," Will said. "I looked them up. They're my family too."

Aaron hesitated. "They were named after my girlfriends," he said finally. "They… died."

"How did they die?" Will asked.

"Jane choked to death on her own vomit," Aaron said. "She was addicted to heroin."

"I'm so sorry," Deanna said.

"And… Andrea?" Will asked.

"She was murdered," Aaron said.

"By whom?" Deanna asked.

"It was my fault," Aaron said.

"You killed her?" Deanna asked. "Is that what you meant when you said you weren't a killer anymore?"

"No," Aaron said. "I killed someone else. But Andrea died because of me. I tried to escape… and Todd killed her. And then he told me he would kill her son if I tried again."

"That's terrible," Deanna said.

"Escape from where?" Will asked.

"From the compound where he was holding me hostage," Aaron said. "He made me cook meth for him."

"Is he the one you killed?" Will asked.

"Yeah," Aaron said. "And I don't feel bad about it. But I do feel bad about killing Gale. He was another meth cook. My boss said he was going to kill me and my partner and replace us with Gale. So I killed him."

Will and Deanna looked at each other. They tried to decide if they should say something, but before they could, Aaron spoke again.

"I can't believe I'm telling you this," he said. "I don't even know you. For all I know, you're from the DEA or FBI or something."

"You needed to tell someone," Deanna said. "You haven't told your wife, have you?"

Aaron shook his head. "For all she knows, I'm Aaron Driscoll and I'm from Anchorage. My parents died in a car crash, which is why she's never met them."

"Aaron," Will said gently, leaning forward. "What's your real name?"

Aaron didn't respond. He shifted and looked away.

"You've told us everything else," Deanna said. "Why can't you tell us that?"

"My real name," said Aaron, "is Jesse Pinkman. I'm from Albuquerque, New Mexico. And I'm one of the most wanted men in America." He looked up suddenly. "If you don't know who I am, that means I don't get caught, right?"

"That's right," Will said. "You get to live out the rest of your life in peace right here in Haines, Alaska."

Jesse smiled. "I know," he said wryly. "Who wants a meth dealer for an ancestor, right? You went to all this trouble to figure out who I was, and it turns out I'm a big-time crook."

"Well, the fact that all your documents were forged suggests you weren't exactly reputable," Will said.

"I spent the first thirty years of my life screwing up," Jesse said. "I hurt a lot of people. I can't take back all the things I did. But now I'm trying to be the best husband and father I can be. So my daughters won't make the same mistakes I did."

"They won't," Will said. "Jane will marry a wonderful man named Jonathan Riker, and they'll have a son, and their family line will continue on and result in me. And Andrea… I don't know about her, but at least I'm pretty sure she won't become a meth dealer."

"Thanks for telling me that," Jesse said. "What about you? You some kind of spaceman or something?"

"Something like that," Will said.

"Neat," Jesse said.

"Thank you, Jesse," Deanna said, standing up. "You've been very helpful. I wish you the best of luck."

"I told you," Jesse said. "Call me Aaron."

"All right then," Deanna said. "Thank you, Aaron."

"Computer," Will said, "exit program."

Jesse and his house disappeared, replaced by the black grid of the holodeck. Will and Deanna left the room and headed back to Will's quarters.

"So," Deanna said. "How is your father going to react to finding out that your ancestor was a meth dealer?"

"I don't know," Will said. "I guess it's kind of cool to have a famous ancestor, even if he's famous for something bad."

"You know what's even cooler," Deanna said. "Having an ancestor who turned his life around and became a better version of himself. It's kind of the story of humanity, isn't it?"

"Yeah," said Will. "I guess you're right."

Dear Dad,

I just went on the holodeck to find out about Aaron Driscoll. Turns out his real name was Jesse Pinkman. He was a meth cook and dealer from Albuquerque, New Mexico. But that's now how we should remember him. We should remember him as a carpenter, a husband, and a father. I'm proud to be descended from someone who made such a huge change for the better, and I think you should be too.

If this is the last message I ever send you, I just want you to know that I love you. I hope there's an afterlife so you get to meet all these ancestors you've done so much research on. And one day, I hope, I'll be continuing our family tree.

Love,

Will