"Captain Saru," Lt. Owosekun broke the silence on the Bridge. She frowned at the readouts on the console, but didn't doubt their accuracy. "Sensors are picking up a small vessel, but it's not Federation."

Saru sat up straighter in the Captain's chair. "Life signs?"

"One. Human,"

"Intriguing," Saru said thoughtfully. "Lieutenant Detmer, set a course to pick them up."

"Aye, Captain," Detmer replied.

Commander Burnham met Admiral Cornwell in the transporter room. "Welcome aboard, Admiral,"

Cornwell nodded. She was a bundle of nerves, with a hint of hope. "How much has he been told?"

They fell in step as they headed to Sick Bay.

"We haven't told him anything. To be honest, we're all in a bit of shock at seeing him again. No one really wants to talk to him,"

"Understandable," Cornwell sighed. "What could he have learned on his own?"

Burnham shrugged. "Saru made sure he had zero access to our archives. We've kept him in Sick Bay, so he's suspicious, but he doesn't know what he's missed. We kept him in the dark, as you ordered," she explained.

They arrived at Sick Bay. Cornwell hesitated at the door, quelling her nerves. "Are you sure it's really him?"

"Dr. Pollard has run several tests, some of them more than once. She has no doubts,"

Cornwell turned from Burnham to the door. "Okay," she exhaled slowly. "Okay."

Lorca looked up when the door opened. His face lit up when he saw her. "Katrina,"

Cornwell's heart skipped a beat at that face. She wanted to believe it was him, but she had to be cautious in case it wasn't.

Lorca got up from the bed. He went towards Cornwell, but she backed away from him. Lorca's face fell, as he froze in place. He hated the way the Discovery's crew looked at him: cautious, suspicious, afraid. None of that showed on Cornwell's face, but it hurt that she didn't want him too close.

Dr. Pollard ducked into her office to give them privacy.

"Do you remember the last time you saw me?" Cornwell asked, watching his face. She noted that he was rubbing his thumb against the inside of his left wrist.

"San Francisco," he replied. "The Buran was in space dock for repairs, and some systems updates. We…we toasted Philippa." He cast his eyes to the floor.

That was true. They had drunk a lot of whiskey in honour of their friend, staying up all night reminiscing and mourning.

Cornwell took a step closer to Lorca, feeling his distress. "Where were you?" she asked softly.

He met her gaze again, still rubbing his wrist. "You won't believe it,"

Cornwell scoffed. "Don't be so sure,"

Lorca winced at her tone. He hesitated, until he realized that the medical staff had left them alone to talk. Cornwell must have signalled them, but he'd missed it. He sat on the edge of the bed, still rubbing the spot on his wrist. It was a subconscious action that he'd picked up in the other place.

"It was…another universe," he said finally. He waited for Cornwell to laugh at him. She didn't.

"How did you get there?"

Lorca frowned. "I beamed back to the Buran, but it was…different. You were there, but you were a commander, my Number One. There was some kind of storm, and the ship was under attack, and you…" He looked up at her, and then away again. "You took me to an escape pod, and when I refused to leave you behind, you threatened to shoot me, and stuff me in, anyway. 'You can get in on your own power, or not, but either way you're getting off this ship.' That's what you said to me. You saved my life, and then the Buran…" Lorca swallowed.

"Sounds like the kind of stupid thing I'd do for you," Cornwell said, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

"I don't know how long I drifted…days. Days. I was picked up by Klingons. They were rebelling against the regime in power. Sarek was with them. He tried to read my mind, but couldn't. They asked me questions I couldn't answer. They kept me locked up. Weeks, maybe months went by. I don't know. I couldn't keep track. Sarek didn't know me, not me. Then something changed, and they were going to let me go, but where could I go? I only knew them. So I fought with them. The Emperor was dead, they said. None of it meant anything to me, but they seemed to know that I wasn't the man they thought I was. Him. So I joined them because it made more sense than joining the other side."

Lorca realized that Cornwell was holding his right hand in both of hers. She was sitting next to him on the bed, a question in her eyes. He let her push his sleeve up, revealing the scarred flesh. It was red and irritated from his rubbing at it.

"It wasn't me," he said.

Cornwell had seen scars like that before, on prisoners who had been bound so long that the skin had healed and rebroken many times. She bit her bottom lip, taking his other hand in both of hers again.

"Two years, Gabriel. You were gone for two years,"

That included the time an imposter had taken his place, but she wasn't sure she should tell him that yet.

Lorca was quiet for awhile as her words sank in. He focused on her hands enveloping his right one. "The war's over," he said. "I can tell we haven't gone to warp in three days. The crew doesn't act like a wartime crew. They're too relaxed—except around me." He was nodding as he spoke, drawing his own conclusion, and knowing he was correct. "He was here. Somehow. I was there, and he was here."

Cornwell tightened her grip on his hand. He didn't like the look on her face.

"Did he hurt you?"

"He scared me,"

Lorca set his jaw, dropping his eyes again. "I'm sorry, Kat." He sighed, squeezing his eyes closed. "I suppose my Starfleet career is over because of him,"

"When Discovery came back, I—" she stopped herself, still not sure how much to tell him. She could see from the sharp look he fixed her with that she had just said too much.

"Came back? What do you mean came back?"

It was her turn to look away. "The Discovery had an experimental drive, and it ended up in this…other universe. They figured out a way back, and had an incredible story to tell. It's all classified now, Gabriel, but I listed you as MIA because I couldn't…" Tears welled in her eyes, and he shifted closer to her. "I thought that if Discovery could come home, then so could you." She gave his hand another squeeze, and a small smile touched her lips.

Home. Lorca's breath caught in his throat. "Home…to the Buran?" he asked hopefully.

Cornwell furrowed her brow. Her heart broke for him. Lorca knew what she would say next. Dreaded the words.

"Gabriel, the Buran is gone," Cornwell said, the tears finally slipping down her cheeks. "It was destroyed by the Kingons two months into the war. All hands were lost, except him." Her voice darkened at the last word.

Lorca shook his head, eyes focused on a spot on the wall over her shoulder. "Jack. Rosales. Y'Dyt. Laurence. Kray. Hues." His Bridge crew. He rocked back and forth.

Cornwell steeled herself for what she knew was coming.

Two years. One of torture that wasn't his to bear. One of fighting a war that wasn't his to fight. He had carried it all because he knew he would find a way home. Home to his ship. Home to his crew. Home to Katrina.

Only one of those homes remained.

Cornwell said his name, but he didn't hear it.

He had fought alongside, and against, some of his crew in that other place. He could stay detached because none of it was real for him. It was a stopover in Dreamland.

He didn't want this reality, either.

Two years. For what?

And somehow the Discovery, this ship, had been there, too, and come back without him.

He couldn't carry it anymore.

Lorca yelled wordlessly until his throat was raw.

Cornwell had wrapped her arms around him in an awkward hug. As he calmed, he put his arms around her. The shoulder of her uniform was soaked. Cornwell held Lorca tightly. She would never let him go again.