Chapter Text
“‘Testy?’” asked Deanna Troi, bewildered. She’d made herself a cup of tea, curled up once again on her office couch, and met with Data in the gentle evening on yet another Friday night. It was the word Data had chosen to describe Geordi’s behavior - a word she hadn’t ever expected to leave the pragmatic, polite android’s mouth. “That’s not a usual word choice for you, Data,” she said, quite factually.
Data sat across from her. He nodded. “I am aware counselor. It was the word Commander Riker used to describe him. He says that it referred to one who is sensitive, defensive, or quick to have an emotional response to generally mundane stimuli. I believed the word was indeed fitting for his recent behavior.”
Troi nodded at that. “I suppose he has been volatile,” she confessed. “At least, that’s what Will’s told me. I don’t usually have much reason to come in contact with him. I don’t suppose he’s given any thought towards seeing me professionally?”
Data grimaced. “Unfortunately not, counselor.”
“Ah, well. At least I get to see you, Data.” She grinned at him, settling into her seat. “So. Why don’t you tell me about how things went this week?”
“I believe the first encounter of note was when I was summoned to Dr. Crusher’s office.”
Data walked promptly through an uneventful day in sickbay. Quite unlike the hubbub that occurred when Geordi was beamed in, now there were only a handful of nurses having light conversation, doing menial tasks. One was chatting with a patient who was wearing a 1920s suit as she tended to a cut along their arm, presumably an accident in the holodeck. Dr. Crusher was secluded in her office, finding a break in the quiet. Data stepped up to her door. The moment he did so, he heard her say, “Enter.”
Stepping inside, he found Dr. Crusher looking concerned. Her eyes were down with dread - dread that spread to Data like a virus. “You wanted to see me, doctor?” he asked.
“Yes, Data. Sit down,” she answered, and he did just so. A moment of tense silent went by before she spoke, touching her hands together, palm to palm, then slowly bringing them up to touch her lips. She sighed. “I have… a very unusual request for you, Data. It puts both of us in an uncomfortable position, but frankly, I’m not sure what else to do.”
“You may make your request without judgment, doctor. I will do what I can to help.”
She smiled at his politeness. “Thank you, Data. Well… the truth is, it’s about Geordi. He hasn’t been coming in for his treatments, and if he doesn’t soon, the scars are going to be permanent and there won’t be anything I can do about it. I was wondering if… maybe you could talk to him, he won’t talk to me. He won’t talk to anybody.”
Data looked down. The position this put him could, indeed, be described as ‘uncomfortable’. If he couldn’t talk to Data about something as simple as radiation waves, he strained to think of how he could encourage him to go to sickbay and undergo a procedure he didn’t seem to want. “I will attempt to speak to him, doctor,” he promised, “However… could you not order him to undergo such a procedure?”
“I wouldn’t if I could but… couldn’t, if I wanted to,” she answered, setting her chin on her folded hands, “At this point, it’s purely aesthetic. Normally, it wouldn’t be my place to interfere with someone’s choice about their own body, but… I just have this sinking feeling that Geordi’s going to regret it. Don’t… force him, obviously, Data, just… see if you can get through to him.”
“Has he given some specific reason that he resists the procedure?”
At this, she raised her eyebrows. “Told me? No. But I can guess.” At Data’s silence, she explained. “Romulan interrogation technology often has a lot of similarities to federation medical technology - beds with field restraints, hyposprays, even implants. I imagine sickbay is the last place he wants to be, and it’s not as though I blame him.”
“I see. Then it is the associations he finds disturbing?”
“I can’t imagine it would be anything else.”
He cocked his head. “Perhaps… if the procedure was done outside of sickbay, in a non-medical atmosphere, he would be more comfortable.”
Crusher shrugged hopelessly. “I tried!” she sighed, “But he just… walked away from me! Told me to leave him alone!”
Data nodded. “I have had a similar experience,” he admitted.
The doctor sighed, once again folding her hands on the table. “If we don’t take care of this within six weeks, there won’t be anything I’ll be able to do.”
“I see,” Troi mused, “That certainly does put you in an awkward position, Data. What did you think of Dr. Crusher’s request?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I believe she had a point,” he said, “While Geordi was resistant to the procedure, it seemed to be a decision made only on emotion, not on logic. This does not make the decision less valid - however, in my experience, decisions made in periods of strong emotion are more frequently regretted than those made with reason in mind.”
“I think that’s very true. So, I take it you tried to help him?”
A pause flickered in Data’s face, eyes downcast. “I did try, counselor,” he said, a hush in his voice.
“Something went wrong,” she surmised. Shyly, he nodded.
“No, computer, play it along the lower spectrum, they need to sound different based on the proximity to the tricorder!” Geordi, crouched down beside a lower panel, had been giving various one sided commands to the computer all day, commands which were gradually turning into a fight. No one in engineering dared to come near him - two ensigns had been snapped at today alone. When the computer failed yet again, Geordi growled to himself, yanking the earpiece out of his ear. He tossed it to the ground beside his feet. “Useless thing,” he spat.
Data, who had seen only a moment of the fight, stepped closer. He wasn’t sure about the social expectations of being around a blind person, but he could only guess that staying without their knowledge and watching them was rude, so he promptly made himself known. “Hello, Geordi,” he greeted, and Geordi looked up, snapping to attention.
“Data,” he addressed, but didn’t smile. He picked the earpiece back up.
“Are you having difficulty with the computer interface?”
He sighed irritably. “Damn thing refuses to cooperate. I’d say the program needs a lot of work.” Geordi shook his head, his lips pursed. “If I’m being honest with myself, I should have made a program like this years ago. With all the away teams I’ve been on, it’s a wonder this is the first time I’ve lost my VISOR.”
Data nodded, unsure just what to say to that. “Would you…” he began carefully, then paused. “Would you be offended if I offered to help you in your task?”
“I-!” he began, and it sounded for a moment like he was going to snap. Then, he looked bitterly off to the side of him. “Actually, I… I could use a hand. If… you’ve got a moment.”
“Of course.”
Data crouched down beside him. He was trying to address an electrical block along one of the Jeffrey’s Tubes - a menial problem which was by no means his job. Data decided not to comment on the simplicity of the task and instead simply took his own tricorder from his waist and began to take scans of his own.
“Say… Data,” Geordi said. He spoke in a whisper, as if afraid to be heard. “Are they…”
He went quiet. “What?” Data asked.
Shame ran in ripples through his voice, head turning out towards the rest of the room. “You know…
staring?
At-at me?”
Respectfully, Data lowered his voice to match his. “Are you referring to the other engineers?”
“Well… yeah.”
“No, Geordi. They are all attentive to their work at the moment.”
This, oddly enough, didn’t seem to relax him. If anything, it put him more on edge. “You’re sure?”
Data evaluated the suspicion in his eyes. “You are not being watched by anyone by myself at present Geordi. That is, no one visible to me. Do you feel as though there is someone watching you?”
He didn’t answer that. “F-forget it, Data - I just need to know the part of this field with the least electrical activity. There should be a dip just behind this panel.”
Obediently, Data held up his own tricorder. In a brief moment, he found what he was talking about. “I have located the electrical dip. It is approximately nine centimeters from the top of the panel, and twelve centimeters from the left edge.” Then, he gently touched the back of Geordi’s hand, and Geordi followed his movement to take the tricorder in his own, locked in its location by the steady android. Then, carefully, with his other hand he held up his own tricorder to the same spot.
“Computer. Record current tricorder readings,” he ordered. At his success, he nodded intently. “Perfect. Now isolate the thirteenth main electrical field layer and increase range by… thirteen percent.” With a whirring sound, the panel glowed a little brighter, particular in that single spot. The problem was solved. Geordi didn’t smile - only fell back into a seated position beside the panel, looking tired. “Finally,” he sighed, “Thanks, Data.”
“There is no need to thank me, Geordi. It was you who did the most substantial part of the task,” he reminded him.
“Yeah,” he answered. He didn’t sound convinced. “Anyway, I should take a look at the dilithium chamber, I’ve noticed a couple unusual readings in the warp core that may suggest a-”
“Geordi,” Data interrupted, “There is something private I wish to discuss with you. Would you be willing to go somewhere else with me for a moment.”
Immediately, Geordi’s posture hardened. His eyes, usually covered, filled with an all the more visible anger and fear. “Crusher sent you,” he surmised sharply.
“That is correct,” answered Data.
“I can’t believe this,” Geordi snarled, and hopped up from where he sat, shoving his tricorder back into its case. Immediately he made his way for the hall. Data followed him. As Geordi marched out of engineering, he said. “I don’t need to go to sickbay, I’m fine!”
“Dr. Crusher informed me that there is a risk of permanent scarring if you do not-”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ve gotten worse burns from short circuits and blasted conduits!” he snapped in response.
“I do not believe that to be the case.”
Geordi shot a freezing glare in his direction. “Right. Cause you know
everything,
isn’t that right, Data?”
“No, Geordi. It is not,” he answered. As they came up to a corner, Data saw his opportunity. Against the wall was a turbolift, and with a gentle touch he took hold of Geordi’s arm, pulling him into it. The doors slid shut with a soft ssht. Geordi yanked his arm away from him. “Geordi,” Data said sternly, “I feel it is my duty as your best friend to inform you that you are behaving erratically. It has come to the point where it is not only your emotional health at risk, but your physical as well. I wish to remind you that my only end goal is your wellbeing - I have no desire to invalidate your technical abilities or prove myself better than you, as you seem to think I do.”
This deflated him for a moment, his shoulders sinking. “Data… I understand that you’re trying to help. But I’m… fine!” He held his arms out beside him, raising his eyebrows. “I just want to get back to work. That’s all.”
“Then you will go to Dr. Crusher?”
“Come on, Data, give me a break here, I don’t want to think about this now!”
“I am aware of that, Geordi,” he said, his face sympathetic, “But I am afraid you do not have a choice.”
Suddenly, rage filled his voice, hands balling into fists, and he shouted, “And I suppose you and Dr. Crusher just know what’s best for me, is that right?! I suppose if this little approach of yours didn’t work I’d be ordered to undergo the procedure, or-or better yet strapped down to the damn table!”
“Dr. Crusher does not have the authority to-”
“You know something, Data?! For a guy without any emotions, you’re certainly eager to tell other people how they should be dealing with their own! Do me a favor!” He took a step closer to him, prodding him in the chest with an aggressive finger. “ Leave me alone, and stay out of my way! Turbolift, open doors!” As the doors slid open, he turned to the sound and hurried out into the hall, fury in his gait. Data waited behind him.
“He said all that?” Troi asked. She hadn’t taken so much as a sip from her tea in quite some time, and by now, it was no doubt iced cold. She had been far too interested in the account of Geordi’s words, of the fight between the two usually amicable friends.
Data looked ashamed. “Yes, counselor,” he said, “It seems, once again, I have failed in my attempt to help him, and once again worsened his situation.”
She sighed. Couldn’t exactly disagree with that. “Well… it’s a very hard task, Data, for anyone. If any of us could easily get through to Geordi, we would have by now! I tried to talk to him. If it’s any consolation, he was short with me too. It doesn’t seem as though he’s wanted to do anything but work.”
Data nodded. “I am sorry you are sharing in my difficulty - However. It is somewhat validating that I am not the only one having this problem.”
“Far from it,” she admitted, her voice low. “Data, I think the way you spoke to him was very reasonable. Confronting him about something he doesn’t want to do isn’t likely to give you many positive results, especially while he’s so paranoid.”
“Paranoid,” Data repeated thoughtfully, “Do you believe he still doubts the legitimacy of the Enterprise?”
“Logically? No,” she said, shaking her head, “But, I think he is having moments of doubt. I would call them irrational, but that doesn’t seem fair to his experience. We have to remember, the Romulans were able to perfectly replicate almost ever facet of the Enterprise. Geordi has nothing to go on but faith! Even with your techniques, when one is already feeling irrational it’s not such a stretch to believe that the Romulans can emulate a certain texture, or find a memory! Trying to get him to do anything he doesn’t want to do is going to result in that sort of suspicion.”
“I agree, counselor,” Data said, “However - the fact remains that we must begin treatments shortly, or else he will be left with permanent scars from this encounter. If simple things such as discussions with friends or interruptions during work are enough to make him relive parts of the traumatic incident, it is likely permanent scars will cause significant damage to his mental health.”
“That,” she sighed, “Is also true.” She paused, drumming her fingers along the outside of her mug. She tried to think of an answer, but nothing came. It seemed the longer Data stayed on the ship, the more complicated, the more universal his questions became. “You mentioned talking to Will, when you first came in,” she reminded him, “Did you go to him for advice as well?”
"Yes, counselor. I felt that, while Commander Riker was not a professional in psychology, he was fairly universally regarded as - a ‘good friend’. Furthermore, he is one of the more emotionally driven members of the crew, and I hoped perhaps his natural instinct would help to benefit me.”
“Will you tell me what he said?”
“It’s horrible.” William Riker’s voice was heavy, ridden with pain and exhaustion. Geordi looked like he hadn’t slept once in the past four weeks, and Riker looked just about as tired, right along with him. He had his hands folded over a table in Ten Forward, looking mournfully into Data’s eyes. “I was psychologically tortured by the Romulans for information myself, I can’t even imagine a physical aspect on top of it. And for as long as he was there…” A visible chill ran through him, and he took a long drink of his synthale as if it was real, as if there was alcohol in it to take the edge off. “I’ll tell you something, Data, right now I’d say he’s just about the strongest man on the Enterprise. He had to report the incident in his logs, at least the professional aspects, and as first officer, I have a right to hear them. He didn’t include much aside from the fact that he didn’t tell them anything, which is supported by an investigation from Starfleet.”
Data raised his eyebrows, and nodded. “That certainly does require resilience,” he answered, “I agree that Geordi has performed an admirable feat. However - that does not detract from the fact that he is in distress now, and that I am unsure how to help him.”
“Aren’t we all?” Riker groused. He sighed. “Data, I just wish I could be more helpful. Do you have any idea how he’s doing?”
“Not well, commander,” he answered frankly, “I believe that he is still uncertain as to the legitimacy of the Enterprise. He asked me to tell him if his engineers were ‘staring at him’, and later expressed concerns that we would ‘strap him down’ and force him to undergo a medical procedure.”
A long, heavy sigh deflated Riker’s broad shoulders. “And he still insists on working?”
Data nodded again. “Yes, commander. It seems to be his primary focus at the time. Do you believe this to be a problem?”
“Well… I don’t know if it’s a problem, per se, just… maybe not the best idea,” he said, “When someone goes through something like this, they should really take some time off to deal with it. Going right back into work, it’s… denial. It’s not coping, that’s for sure. But… at the same time, it really isn’t any of my business.”
“You believe he is using his work as a distraction?”
“We’ve all done it. I don’t think there’s a senior officer in Starfleet who isn’t at least something of a workaholic,” Riker answered, idly swirling his drink. He took another sip. “Well, just don’t take anything he says personally, Data. I’m sure he just doesn’t know how to deal with people right now, and he’s done it to all of us. The only time I’ve been able to talk to him for more than five seconds was when I was talking about the warp engines.” He scoffed, and shook his head.
Data looked down, thinking for a moment. “Commander,” he said stiffly, “Am I correct in assuming that you empathize strongly with Geordi, and feel your own powerful emotions about his situation?”
Riker looked him hard in the eyes when he spoke, as though surprised he’d asked at all. “Of course. I can’t stand the thought of it, Data, I keep… running through my head, trying to think of what I could have done differently when they took him.”
“What would you say is your emotional instinct in these matters?”
“Emotional?” Riker parroted softly. “Well… To be honest with you, Data, if I was allowed an emotional reaction I’d take the Enterprise, find whoever did this, and shoot them out an airlock.” His lip curled with a rare sentiment of violence, but the steadiness in his dark eyes made it clear he meant it.
“Then it is vengeance you seek?”
“Well… It’s not as though there’s anything else I can do,” he admitted despondently. Data looked down, and considered it. He thought about when Crusher told him, how quickly he asked if they would find the Romulan ship. Did he want vengeance as well? Riker sighed. “But… you know, Data… just because it’s the emotional response doesn’t mean it’s the right one. I think Geordi could really use someone like you right about now to bring him back to the real world.”
Data grimaced at that. “That is a sentiment you share with counselor Troi. However, I am still not sure how it is I am best suited to help him, since he seems to want nothing to do with me.”
“Data, he doesn’t want anything to do with any of us,” Riker told him gently, “If I were in his shoes, I can’t say I’d feel any different. Don’t take it personally, alright?”
“I was not offended by his actions,” he told him, with a shake of his head. That wasn’t even close to what he was worried about. He looked down, listening for a moment to the whir of the ship beneath him. Geordi once said it was his favorite sound, more calming than the waves against the shore. He wondered if it still calmed him, if it ever would again. “Commander,” Data said, “Do you believe that there are ever ordeals so challenging that they simply cannot be recovered from?”
Riker was still for a moment, heartbroken. Then, he shifted forward, a passion and intensity in his eyes. He spoke in a whisper, leaning across the table to put a hand on the side of Data’s arm. “He’s gonna be alright, Data,” he whispered.
“You didn’t believe him?”
Data was startled by the question. He gave a look towards his lap, and then a slight shrug. “I do not believe Commander Riker would die,” he said frankly, “However - I did notice that he elected to avoid my question with a consolation, instead of giving me a direct answer. Does this not suggest that he does believe that there is a chance he may not recover?”
Troi smiled. “I think that… Will is a very passionate man. And hopeful. I don’t think he’d ever openly say that he believed someone is a lost cause in that way, Data. And in his heart, I don’t think he does believe it.”
“Then why did he avoid my question?”
She shrugged, patting her thighs with her hands. “To be honest, Data, I think he was worried about you. I mean, consider the subtext of your own question, under the circumstances.”
He obeyed her, considering it, a little crease forming in his eyebrow. “I believe Commander Riker may have thought I was expressing doubt for Geordi’s ability to recover.”
“Were you?”
He shot a look at her. “Not doubt, counselor. I merely wanted to know about the possibility so I could react in the most reasonable and helpful way possible.”
“I see,” Troi said with a nod.
“I did not mean to cause Commander Riker concern. I am concerned only with fulfilling my task as a good friend. Geordi’s behavior does not have a personal effect on myself.”
Troi looked, for just a moment, cynical. She shifted her position, crossing one leg over the other. Through a sigh, she admitted. “You know, Data… I’m not entirely sure that’s true.” At his confusion, she gestured with an open hand and explained, “You said yourself that you want him to get better so that your friendship, as it was, can remain in tact. But what is a want but a dissatisfaction with the way things are now?”
He looked down, eyes darting across the floor at the concept. When he didn’t respond Troi went on. She set her other foot down on the floor, a slight excitement coming into her voice.
“Data, even if you can’t
feel
nervous or uncomfortable, I don’t really see a difference between that and what you’re going through. You are aware that there is a risk of your life changing in a negative way, and of your closest friend being irreparable damaged. You also know that it is your actions which will affect how this problem is addressed. That’s a lot of responsibility, and a lot of consequence if you are wrong. To me, mechanical or not, it seems almost indistinguishable from anxiety!”
He perked up slightly, a stoicism, an intensity coming into his eyes. An interesting proposal, he thought. Of course, it wasn’t as though he could jump to any conclusions. “Have you sensed anxiety from me, counselor?”
“Well… not empathically,” she said, “But your behavior, coming here to discuss Geordi with me, going to multiple people for advice, certainly suggests it.”
“I see…” he said gently, “Then I should refrain from communicating with Geordi at all.”
Troi, startled, sat up a little straighter. “What makes you say that?”
“If you are correct, and I am developing some sort of emotional awareness from this experience, then that would put me into a similar situation I was in when I last had emotional awareness - when I was under the control of my brother Lore.” At the very mention of it, shame filled his face. “I believe you recall when transpired between us under those circumstances.”
“Data, this isn’t like that at all,” she answered with a soothing hand, “Look, I… I didn’t mean to suggest some greater emotional awareness. The emotions from Lore’s chip were overwhelmingly human, enough so that I could feel them. I was only making a comparison between your natural program and the emotions of a biological lifeform. Besides - with no one to manipulate you, you’ll behave like you’re inclined to anyway.”
He winced slightly, remembering, contemplating. Troi continued.
“Look, Data, we’ve known for years that your program is capable of emulating some of the non-visceral parts of the emotional spectrum. Take this conversation, it’s a perfect example. You have an ethical program, a conscience, therefore you feel guilt about your amoral actions.”
He creased his eyebrows. “I had not considered it guilt, counselor,” he said curiously.
“But what else could you call it? It obviously bothers you.”
“It is programmed to - ‘bother me’,” he argued softly, “Should I begin an amoral action, my ethical program automatically prohibits me from continuing. Should I, under certain circumstances, completely finish the amoral action, my program requires me to go over the memory repeatedly to attempt to find out what went wrong, and to attempt to amend the consequences of my actions, if at all possible.”
“So? Humans are programmed against things like murder, hurting other beings intentionally. We hesitate when we see we’re hurting someone, and if we can’t stop it, we try to undo it, or make them feel better by apologizing or soothing them.”
“I had not looked at it that way,” he admitted, raising his eyebrows. “Then, you would consider the programming around my ethical program to be sophisticated enough to be considered my own form of… ‘guilt’?”
“I think it’s a fair comparison,” she said confidently.
He nodded. “If that is so,” he said, “Then I believe it is guilt I feel regarding Geordi’s being taken in the first place.” He looked her steadily in the eyes, his face haunted. “There were actions I could have taken to prevent his capture. With the benefit of retrospect I am now aware of them, and yet, I can neither change the past to enact them, nor, it seems, fix the consequences of my failure in the present.”
A softness appeared in the counselor’s eyes. “I think you admitting that is a huge step forward, Data,” she told him with a comforting nod. “But it wasn’t your job to protect him - He’s a Starfleet officer, and signs up for these risks just like we all do. And it’s also not your job to save him. In the end, no matter how you help - this is ultimately something he has to get through.”
For a moment, he was quiet. “Counselor,” he muttered, “Growing towards my own personal humanity, navigating social encounters, and succeeding as a Starfleet officer were tasks which I had to get through on my own. That did not stop Geordi.”
The counselor smiled, a sweet, proud smile - to a friend, and not a patient. “I understand,” she whispered, “In that case, my advice to you is… don’t stop trying. It seems like Geordi has a lot of insecurity about how other people see him, for a lot of reasons. Maybe try visiting him one on one! Maybe he’d receive it more favorably when it’s just you!”
“I will attempt it, counselor,” he said, “If he will have me.”
“Good.” Troi stood up. “I look forward to seeing you next week so you can tell me how it goes!”
Data stood up as well. “As do I, counselor. I am hopeful that I will have more positive news to share with you.”
She grinned. “I’m sure you will.”