Author's Note: This is a story that I've had on my computer and on bits and pieces of paper for years – maybe decades! I recently rediscovered it and thought I'd start posting some chapters. Thanks for reading and reviewing! JT

Disclaimer: The crew of the Enterprise doesn't belong to me.

The light above the bed stayed on, kept the shadows, both real and imagined, at bay. The low murmur of activity behind her remained separate from their small world, the few square feet that belonged to just the two of them, even though she was the only one aware of it. Hours passed, like minutes. Nurses and doctors would appear on the other side of the bed, check vital signs, ask questions, make assurances. And then leave. But she stayed, always there, like the light, guarding against shadows and nightmares.

At times, she felt his fear, as only she could feel it. From deep in his mind, it touched deep into hers, and it was a silent struggle to calm the rising emotions, ease the pain, comfort the lost child he'd become. And all of this while he slept, oblivious to his surroundings, unknowing of her presence, aware of only the dark, the night, the memories of what had happened to him. To them both. Whatever that was.

Deanna Troi didn't know. She'd reached as deeply as she could into Will Riker's sub-conscious, but the soft, insistent touch of her own mind had been buffeted back by the tide of pain and fear that swelled within him. The memories were his, and he could not, would not share them. And so, he slept while she waited and watched.

~vVv~

She was there when he slowly began to wake, felt the stirring in his mind, the reaching towards consciousness, the effort it took to push past the layers of fear that surrounded him. He moved, shifted, stiff arms and legs rustling the sheet that covered his body. And he groaned softly, small sounds of discomfort, tears escaping still closed eyes. Gently, Deanna wiped them away, then laced her fingers around his, held his hand securely. "I'm here, Will," she whispered, her mind echoing the words. I'm here.

The muscles in his face twitched, hardened along his jawline, relaxed. He swallowed deeply, his throat convulsing, and then, ever so slowly, his eyelids opened, dark, damp eyelashes fluttering, eyes squinting slightly from the light. "Deanna?" he breathed.

She leaned closer to him. "I'm right here, Will." Tenderly, she pressed her lips against his cheek, just above his beard, close to his left temple.

The corners of his lips turned up in a slight smile. "That... tickles"

Deanna exhaled a deep breath, relieved at the sound of his voice. "I'm sorry."

"No... It's all right." He swallowed again, glancing over at her, a familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes. "I like it."

She smiled and kissed him once more, allowed her lips to linger against the pale overly warm skin. "I love you, Will," she murmured, breathing in the scent of him, the muskiness that was still there despite days in an antiseptic sickbay.

"Love you, too," he returned, mustering a broader smile that quickly faded. Worried blue eyes squinted up at her, but the concern so evident in them was not for himself. "How... how is he?" he managed, though every gasp of breath was a struggle for him.

Deanna lightly brushed her other hand over his forehead, careful of the bruises and bandages. "Shh," she soothed, hesitating with her answer. Oh, Will.

Tell me. "Deanna?" He winced around another painful swallow.

"He's fine," she replied, touching his cheek, fingers caressing his beard. "And you're going to be fine, too, Will." Just fine.

He shook his head, tried to sit up, groaning with the effort.

Deanna placed a hand tenderly on his shoulder, felt him trembling, held him still. "Don't move," she said, her tone firm, but gentle. "You need to rest. Sleep's the best thing for you right now." Sleep, imzadi. Just sleep.

Will sighed. He was tired; his eyes felt heavy, and he could barely concentrate on Deanna's voice. But for a moment, he fought the soothing darkness that was creeping in on all sides of his vision. He tightened his fingers around Deanna's hand, felt her fingers tighten as well. "He's all right?" he whispered, needing to be reassured again, wanting to hear the words so that he could allow the shadows to envelope him.

"Yes," Deanna answered, but then quickly looked away.

Will felt a sense of panic rise inside him. No. Something didn't feel right. He heard Deanna's words, but for the first time in his life, he didn't believe them.

Imzadi. "Deanna..." Please.

She turned her gaze back to him. "Go to sleep, Will."

He heard the hiss of a hypospray against his neck, and the last thing he saw was Deanna Troi's dark eyes filling, unmistakably, with tears.

~vVv~