A/N: I have this up sooner than normal! By urgent requests, I've quickly written the next chapter (hope no one was left in dire straits for too long). Good-bye to the old format, hello to the new story twists! Thank you so much for those wonderful reviews, too! I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much! Thanks, guys!

He should have kept his mouth closed.

Wearily, McCoy raised his head and looked at Jencius. "Fine, then," he rasped. "I won't say another word."

Jencius smirked. "Really, Doctor? I know how vocal and outspoken you are. You won't last that way, you pathetic human."

McCoy didn't answer him.

"So determined to maintain complete silence, now?" Jencius continued. "I should tell you it's pointless, you still find ways to tell me what I want to know."

Still nothing.

Jencius realized something. A change came over his features as he took on the air of a man presented with an interesting new challenge.

"Very well. Let's see if you can talk at all, now. I shall enjoy this."

The interrogations took on a new feel. It was no longer poignant questioning, but more mindless torture to make him speak. He screamed, of course. Nonsensical, primal, incoherent. No words. Just voice. He screamed because it hurt so much.

Come on, Bones, hold it together, we're here, we've got you.

Jencius tried more tactics. He ended up recovering in Retril's Sickbay more often now. He felt feverish most of the time and idly wondered if he had caught something foreign while in his cell. Maybe that would kill him.

Hang on, Leonard.

He didn't know how long it was. But Retril whispered to him as he lay on the bed, struggling to stay conscious.

"I don't know how much longer you'll be here," the doctor whispered. "Jencius' promotion came through."

He didn't have time to think about what that would mean for him before blackness enclosed his mind.

Some days (weeks?) later he noticed another change. There weren't as many visits to his cell. Jencius hardly stopped by. Left alone, McCoy grew a little stronger, able enough to shakily stand up and shuffle forward. His head was clearing, and he still felt weak from neglect, but it was better than he had been.

At some point his cell door opened to reveal two guards. Jencius wasn't one of them. One held up a rectangular pair of manacles and McCoy slowly presented his wrists. They were locked into place and the guards each grasped his arms and walked him out of the brig.

He couldn't remember the last time he had been down the halls of the Bird-of-Prey. Most of the time he went to Sickbay he was unconscious and dying. With a shock he realized he hadn't been this way since that fateful day of battle.

He was led to the transporter room. The guards halted and he swayed, barely holding himself up. There was a fairly large procession in the transporter room. McCoy recognized the captain, Jencius, and some other Romulans. All seemed to be in their official dress uniforms.

Jencius stepped forward, grinning. "Hello, Doctor. Enjoying the change in scenery?"

McCoy felt a quip on his tongue but remembered he wasn't going to answer. He stayed silent, and focused on holding the contents of his stomach down.

"It may interest you to know," Jencius continued. "That I now have my own captaincy. We're transferring to my ship now. And you're coming with me."

McCoy felt his heart sink. He'd held on to the hope that Jim would be able to track down this Bird-of-Prey, but now, on a completely different ship? It would be next to impossible.

It's okay, Bones, we're here, we've got you.

He was position on the transporter pad next to Jencius for the beaming. The ship vanished, replaced with a slightly different transporter room. McCoy suspected they were on a warbird.

Some Romulans led him down to the brig. They stopped before one cell which had a door fitted to it. Inside, it was pitch black. They threw him in, not bothering to remove the manacles. Staggering up, he was left in darkness as the door closed. He tried not to whimper from anxiety.

It's alright, you're safe, Leonard.

No he wasn't. He was in a brig! He was going God knows where with a diabolically evil Romulan captain. Jencius kept showing up, kept trying different ways to get him to say something, anything! Even a word as insignificant as 'at'. Because they both knew that would be the ball game.

He didn't know how he even lasted this long. Jencius kept toying with him, trying to coax out his voice through something other than screams. Physical torture was replaced with mental. He would be left in the dark for days on end, all sense of time lost. The captain then decided to try a longer method to break him. His food started getting cut and showed up less frequently. The chained him so he was standing up and couldn't go to sleep, because that blasted device kept beeping and awaking him.

Sleep deprivation took its toll. He went through intense emotional stages, sometimes screaming at the walls, sometimes giggling, and sometimes just crying wretched sobs. When they passed he felt drained and listless, reacting to nothing. Occasionally he hallucinated. Jim and Spock and Joanna would morph from the darkness, standing before him, and he would want to call out to them, begging.

But he couldn't, oh, he couldn't. Because the last thing he had was his silence. It seemed all of his sanity, all of his motivation, his hope, and his being depended on that silence. The moment he said something, it would all be over. Jencius would win. He couldn't let Jencius win. He had to win this, he had to beat his opponent in the only way he could. He clung to that thought day and night, his nerves and muscles screaming, and at times it seemed that terrible burden of silence made him physically ache.

Doctor, come back to us.

Warmth. The door was blasted open and there was light, growing brighter and brighter until…

McCoy opened his eyes with a gasp, panting hard as he looked wildly around Sickbay. He thrashed in confusion. M'Benga was holding his arms, talking to him. Spock was close to his face, but backing away. Jim was there, too, calling his name. Jim, are you okay? What's going on? What's happening?

None of this was said. The closest thing to those words were the small noises coming out of his mouth. He was terribly confused. But M'Benga's voice was soothing and low, and Spock and Jim were also reassuring him that things were okay, that he was safe, and he finally started to relax.

"Welcome back, Leonard," Geoff breathed in relief, kindness etching his features. "It's good to see you again."

Again? Where had he gone? He was terribly disoriented and tired, but tried to sit up anyways. The doctor let him, and he looked questioningly at Jim and Spock.

"M'Benga said you suffered a relapse," Jim explained. "You weren't snapping out of it, so Spock briefly touched your mind."

He nodded, rubbing his arms. He could still feel his heart beating furiously, though it was calming down.

"I think you should sleep, Leonard," M'Benga said calmly. "A little rest does the body and soul wonders."

Sleep? Did he want to sleep? Maybe; his eyelids were already drooping. He leaned back against the biobed and floated away.

M'Benga sighed as McCoy relaxed and went to sleep. "Well, we're out of it now," he said wearily. He looked up. "Thank you, Spock."

Spock inclined his head. "You're welcome, Doctor."

M'Benga tapped his fingers, chewing his lip anxiously. "Spock, I know how private mind melds are, but I have to ask… what did you see?"

Spock was quiet for a long moment, processing it. Kirk and M'Benga waited patiently. When he did speak, it wasn't what either of them were exactly expecting.

"His silence is the last thing he has."

"What do you mean by that, Spock?" Kirk asked.

Spock tilted his head. "My apologies. Perhaps I should phrase it differently. His silence was the last thing he had going for him, and in his mind now, still is. I got the impression that his time with the Romulans wasn't always interrogation. It… morphed, somehow, into a competition. A competition between whether they could get him to speak or if he could still hold his tongue."

M'Benga closed his eyes. "He still feels like that's going on… no wonder he's refusing so vehemently."

Kirk exhaled heavily. "Well, at least we know something now. That's good." His eyes lingered on Bones' sleeping form before pivoting to Spock.

"Did you beam those two goons back to Starbase 8?"

"Starbase 8 reported transporter difficulties," Spock replied. "They've dispatched a small shuttle to meet us."

"But Scotty's doing work in the bay," Kirk pointed out, alarmed. "They can't fit in a shuttle right now."

"I know, Captain. That's why we're beaming the men onto the shuttle once it is in range. That should occur in ten minutes."

Kirk didn't like it. He wanted Grather and Pulmnar off his ship immediately. But, if a wait was necessary, then it couldn't be helped.

"Very well. Doctor, if you have things under control here, then we will return to the bridge."

"Yes, Captain."

When McCoy awoke a few minutes later, everyone was gone. He sat up on the biobed, looking around. Well, if no one was here, then no one could tell him to stay put.

He hopped off and stretched, feeling tired but not sleepy. He could probably eat something. Idly, he wondered what the mess hall special was today.

There was a sound. His ears pricked up. He knew that sound. It was the whine of a transporter. McCoy whirled and saw two golden shapes coalesce into…

Oh, no.

For a second, his entire body was frozen, facing the Romulans. Then he snapped into action when they advanced. He snatched a scalpel from his wall of old medical tools and threw it at them. It nicked one across the arm but caught the other on the collarbone. The Romulan staggered, green blood staining his uniform.

McCoy kept backing away, ready to make use of a connecting door, when suddenly, Chapel walked in.

"Leonard we-" she spotted the Romulans and points had to be given to her for how fast she hit the comm. "Intruder alert, Romulans in Sickbay, Security, get here now!"

She and McCoy dove back through the door when disruptors started firing. The klaxon exploded to life, blaring a red alert throughout the ship. Uhura's voice filtered through the comms, calling everyone to battle stations, that a ship had been detected.

Chapel and McCoy ran to Sickbay's entrance, almost colliding with the Security team rushing in.

"In there," Chapel panted, pointing. "Two Romulans, armed."

"Got it," Giotto led the team back into the ward. Sounds of phaser fire commenced, including more disruptor shots.

"Leonard, where are you going?" Chapel cried, whirling to see McCoy hurrying out of Sickbay.

He faced her and she saw a strange look on his face, totally incongruous to his recent behavior. It was all intent, a firm, set hardness on his features, cold, yet his eyes blazing.

He was a man on a mission.

She nodded. "Okay, then. Go; we've got things here in Sickbay."

He gave one, curt nod, and swept out of Sickbay, heading determinedly for the bridge.