“I had a daughter,” he told her quietly, “She was beautiful. She looked just like her mother, but she was fierce like me. She was tough. She fought. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t bravely face. She was a little too much like me, I think. And that’s why she’s gone. Her mother left when she was still young, and I did the best I could, but–yeah. Just a little too much like me. Her mother did name her after me, though. Michael and Michaela. I was Mike, she was Mikey. We were–well, peas in a pod if you’ll allow the cliche. She was so strong, I never thought I would have to live with out her.” He wiped the tears from his cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You don’t need this. I didn’t mean to go off like that. But you wanted to know why I was so interested.” He gave her a weak smile.
“No. It’s good to hear. Nice to know the Captain is human.” She grinned back.
“Do you remember anything about your father? Anything at all?” There was hope in his voice, although she wasn’t entirely sure why.
“No. Not a thing. I’m not even sure I have a family to remember at this point. ”
“Your poor father.” He frowned, “My sympathies go out to him.”
“I just wish–hope, I guess–that if I do have a father out there missing me, he knows somehow that I’m okay. I know–it’s kind of silly…” She trailed off, feeling incredibly silly and entirely unsure of how to continue the thought.
“It’s a good thing to wish. I hope so too, for both of your sake.”