"It's good to have you back, sir."
"Thank you, Number One." As he stepped off the transporter platform, Picard felt numb. In the hours during his transportation back to the Enterprise, the Cardassians had done their best to cover up any evidence of their treatment of him during the abduction, providing him new clothes, cleaning him up, and treating him for the lack of food and water he'd been given. He had no choice but to go along with it, all the while trying to figure out how to possibly manage things on his return, so he could have any chance at all of saving her. He'd decided that he would claim to have been held in isolation, without being harmed but also without any knowledge of who had taken him or why. If he could keep his composure, then with no physical signs of torture, there should be no reason he wouldn't be cleared for duty quickly, no reason to suspect that the Cardassians would have any real leverage over him going forward.
Leverage… He wondered if he'd ever be able to get the bitter taste of bile out of his mouth.
Upon arrival home he was greeted by his first officer and counselor, who both looked as though they'd had a rough time of it the past several days, although they seemed very relieved to find him in better condition than they'd apparently feared. Still, he knew what his first destination would necessarily be.
Sickbay was the last place he wanted to be; if reminders of her weren't everywhere to begin with, the grief-filled murmurs of her staff, the furtive glances cast his way, the distressed atmosphere would only serve to highlight her absence. But again, he had no choice. Picard submitted, expressionless, to examination by the ranking physician on duty, a recently-transferred, rather young woman he barely recalled who seemed somewhat nervous as she scanned him. When she finally left to analyze the results, he tersely filled Riker and Troi in on his version of events, answering their tactful questions as best as he could given the circumstances. He knew Deanna could sense that he wasn't telling her everything, but even assuming that she knew that his deception was about Beverly, whom they all were avoiding talking about...it was too readily explainable by him wanting to suppress the grief, grief that Deanna also strongly felt right now. And so with only a twinge of regret, he allowed her to believe that was all it was. He had to; her evaluation of his mental fitness was essential, and no matter how much he trusted her, and Will, he couldn't tell them more.
The debriefing shifted to Riker's recounting of all of the efforts that had been made in service of his recovery, along with the fallout and current status of the Cardassian negotiations. Picard looked up when Riker fell momentarily silent. "Anything else, Number One?"
"Yes, sir." Riker cleared his throat. "The admiral wants to meet with you at 1400, as soon as you've had a chance to get settled and file your report." Even in his current state, that drew a raised eyebrow from the captain, but Riker just shook his head, equally incredulous at the orders. "I know, sir."
Picard sighed. "Good Lord. No doubt she'll want her canapés, as well."
Riker smiled grimly. "I'll make sure I have some set out for you."
Returning to them with a tray of hyposprays and the results of her scans, the doctor presented her report of limited evidence of dehydration and malnutrition, then added, "There are also indications of severe physiological stress."
No, the Cardassians couldn't cover *that* up, Picard thought darkly. He felt rather less than inclined to discuss any of it with an officer he'd never even met, though, and sat silently as he tried to figure out some way to extricate himself with as little said as possible.
"Captain, you said that you weren't—?" Deanna asked again in concern—she alone, save for Beverly, knew the extent of what he'd suffered through in his last captivity; but he shook his head: "No."
"Anxiety and the stress of being in isolation under these circumstances could certainly explain some, but not all, of this, in my view," the doctor continued tentatively, glancing back and forth among the three of them. "If there's been another particular trauma during this time that could explain this…"
Picard was stone-faced, gripping the edge of the biobed. Thankfully, with a sympathetic glance at him, Deanna stepped in with another explanation. "Grief," she suggested quietly.
"Yes." The doctor flinched, realizing the obvious she'd overlooked, and hastily entered more notes on her padd. "Captain, I can help with all of these symptoms, but I would like you to remain here for awhile longer, in order to make sure we've treated everything completely and you get sufficient time to recover."
There was, of course, no chance at all of that occurring. Picard cleared his throat, exchanging a mutually dubious look with Riker, and spoke firmly: "Doctor...Sheridan, your concern is appreciated, but I need you to clear and release me now." Beverly, of course, would never have been intimidated by his authoritative tone, but Sheridan backed down immediately.
"Well—yes, sir. Just one moment." She administered two hyposprays, which admittedly did bring some rapid relief of tension and aches, and before moving away, added, "But please drink some fluids and do return later if you aren't feeling well."
He nodded briskly and stood to leave, anxious to get away from this woman he didn't know, from this place that belonged to Beverly...as if he could escape reminders of her anywhere onboard, as if she could ever be far from his mind at all.
"Captain…"
A sudden, strange hesitation in Riker's voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he paused, turning to meet Riker's troubled gaze, becoming aware, too, of Deanna blinking back tears now behind him.
"I wanted to say...I'm so sorry about Beverly."
Picard straightened up. There was little he could do to help anything about this entire damned situation, but one thing he could do, without any reservation, was assuage his first officer's guilt. "There was nothing you could have done, Will," he said honestly, placing a hand on the taller man's shoulder. He saw Riker relax ever so slightly at the words, and he let out a breath. "It wasn't your fault."
It's mine.
#-#-#-#
Two hours later he was back in uniform and attempting to clear the last hurdle to resuming command—to having the slightest chance to see her again...
"Admiral, this attack must, at the very least, be officially acknowledged. It was a direct violation–"
"I'm sorry, Captain Picard, but it cannot be," Alynna Nechayev cut him off curtly.
"It affects the negotiations."
"And that is the very reason why," she agreed smoothly. "We have worked for months to arrange these meetings, and nothing must be allowed to upset them. I know this attack was an illegal action, but the Cardassian government has assured us it was an isolated action of a rogue dissident, not sanctioned by them, and the perpetrator has been dealt with appropriately. We have no choice but to believe them, Captain."
Picard controlled his breathing with an effort, glaring at the petite blonde woman on the other side of his ready room desk. "Very well," he said tightly. He couldn't push the issue or she would question him further as to his motives. "What other news do you have, then?"
"Nothing significant." She swiveled his computer around, calling up a file to the screen, then turned it back to him. "This is an updated summary of the main objectives the Federation has. You'll have the evening to review them, though I know you've spent several weeks on this now." She paused, her sharp brown eyes evaluating him. "You must do this, and do it completely objectively. If you cannot, I will find someone to take your place, and I will understand." Her tone suggested she would not. "But particularly with your recent experience on Dorvan V and in the DMZ, you are, quite simply, the best we have. The long-term security of the quadrant depends on the success of these negotiations. Can you fulfill your duties?"
He could not appear hesitant; Beverly depended on him. He nodded once. "Yes, sir."
"Good. I'm reinstating you effective immediately." Nechayev sipped her tea, appraising him, and then her tone softened. "Captain, believe it or not, I do appreciate this is putting you in another difficult position, especially after this attack. Dr. Crusher's death is a loss for all of us."
He murmured an acknowledgment.
