He'd woken, some time early in the morning, terrified. His heart pounding, his breathing ragged. He had no recollection of what the dream had been about, but he was left with a pervasive sense of fear. He was exhausted but couldn't make that sit with the amount of unexpected naps he had been taking. It was this that he had begun to explain to Troi in her treatment room, hoping she would have some magic way of making it all better.

"It all just feels so overwhelming. Nothing is within my control. I'm told where to go, what to eat, how to move and that's fine. I don't want to make any decisions. And that's what terrifies me."

"What do you mean?"

"They've taken what makes me… well, me."

For a moment, she thought he was about to divulge what she knew was lurking beneath his consciousness, she searched for the right question that would open up his half-finished thought, "How so?"

"I'm the Captain. I'm in command. This ship, her crew… the families aboard. All under my command and I feel numb to them. Useless. Like a… like an unnecessary middleman."

"A middle man?" She pressed realising that they were sticking to the safe zone of what he was prepared to explore. The topic of resuming his command was familiar, easy, and one they had had in one way or another many times before. She wasn't going to push him yet, she wanted to wait for him to accede to her plan to commence the treatment she knew would dig into the deepest part of his trauma.

"Yes. Between Beverly's endless scans… between where I was, who I used to be. And the me who is waiting somewhere at the end of all… this." He finished.

"Like a waiting game? Before this is all resolved?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Captain, I'm afraid it's just not going to work like that. This isn't going to be 'over' at any time. It's going to be something that you must weave into your life. It will always be part of who you are. and I think, in a significant way. Don't underestimate what happened to you. It's no surprise to me that you are feeling so..."

"Lost?" he ventured.

"Yes, that's a good description." She paused as she saw the weight of recognition working its way into his expression, she turned tack to try to reassure him, "And by the way, the Captain Picard I know hasn't gone anywhere…

"I'm not so sure about that…"

"This is going to be a slow process. At the moment, it's important that we get your physical health in shape. Your injuries were severe, they're going to take time. And that's how I know that the Captain is just resting, just taking some time out… he's there, he's the voice making you an impatient patient."

He smirked at that, she had a point he had to concede.

"It is time to start making some inroads into your mental health though. With this in mind, I want to try a Betazoid therapy."

"Oh?"

"The Betazoid healing sphere. It's a process that I will lead you through. I will tap into your subconscious ask you questions about your time with the Borg. By doing this, we bypass what Freud used to refer to as the theory of repetition…"

"I'm not sure…" She felt the doubt and fear ripple through his emotional output before he continued, "What is the benefit of this strategy?"

"Any traumatic event requires a lot of repetitive processing, Betazed is a few thousand years ahead of Earth in being able to treat trauma conditions such as this. We developed ways to ensure the benefit of repetition is accessed but without it incurring any harmful feedback loops of hyper-repetition."

"A shortcut?"

She laughed, "Well, you might think of it that way." She looked him in the eye, made sure she had his full attention before she continued, "This is the best way forward, the nature of what was done to you by the Borg is extremely unusual. By using the sphere, I can circumnavigate the unique way that these memories have been recorded and stored."

He'd always been open to the new experiences and knowledge afforded by alien cultures. What intrigued him more, was the idea that he could somehow get through this pain more quickly, but he wasn't about to voice that.

"Captain, I understand you want this to be over. Believe me when I say this isn't going to be any easier. It's not a short cut. The memories that you will encounter while the sphere is active aren't going to be pleasant. The process is more… concentrated. But that's where an empathic counsellor comes in. With my help, I can support you, guide you."

"And that's it? A session with the sphere?"

"Well, there is a drug we thought about using as well, Relevatrin. It's an Earth medicine designed to relieve some of the more aggressive physical reactions trauma patients can experience."

"We? You mentioned a we?"

"That's right, Doctor Crusher and the psychiatrist that Starfleet sent, Doctor Sirian Bandakah. He's very well regarded."

"And he's here because..?"

She could sense the fear coming off in him in waves, what was behind it? She probed further, "Because I needed a little expert back up. I'll level with you, I haven't treated anyone in this situation before. I wanted to make sure I was taking the best possible approach. Sir?"

"Yes, of course." he had lost his focus. She could feel him drifting away, her fix on his emotions starting to fade away, "and is he reporting back to Starfleet? Part of the competency panel?"

"Yes. He and I have been working closely together and have been reporting back regularly since your return. Sir, you know this. You know how this works."

"I do. I do, of course.."

He was twisting through the full range of emotions, unguarded, and seemingly out of control. She wasn't used to this from him. He was usually so contained, to sense everything all on a plate without having to dig for it spoke of the tumultuous impact of his experience. He was angry now, she could feel his upset starting to overwhelm him, she needed to draw him back down but before she could attempt to calm him, he spoke surprising her.

"And do I have a choice?"

"Of course you do Sir, it's just… I know this is the choice I would make if I were keen on moving past this stage of my recovery." relieved that the mood and tone had shifted into a more positive and productive realm, she felt her shoulders drop releasing the tension she had been holding.

"Uh huh… and when might…?"

"I thought we could try tomorrow afternoon? Give you some time to think about it – it really is your decision Captain."

"Well then, in that case… I suppose you'd better… make it so."

The session had commenced two hours beforehand in the low light of Troi's treatment room. From mid-afternoon, Deanna had been guiding the Captain through a series of images and thoughts as they appeared in his mind. The sphere strengthened her empathic receptors and created a feedback loop that both initiated the process and perpetuated it, conducting her through the work she needed to complete. She relished the boost to her range, almost akin to turning up the brightness on a display screen, or feeling the warmth of someone you loved in person rather than by communique.

They had started slowly, visiting his lighter experiences and working backwards from that day to the point he had been abducted. She had finally reached his assimilation and had almost completed an investigation of that terrifying process. Dark, violent, and bloody images assailed her as the Captain consciously, and unconsciously, remembered and worked through the process from start to finish. She hadn't realised it had been done incrementally, over a period of days, and with no anaesthetic. She guided him to recall the horrors that had been inflicted on him, making him reflect on each injury one by one in microscopic detail. She'd been rocked by the fear and terror he had experienced, seen how he had been utterly helpless as they had changed his body, stolen his thoughts, used him. The process had been exhausting. His brain had stored every moment of trauma in a logical, precise manner – like a computer. It was all there, and it had taken her only seconds to realise that that was at the centre of his trauma: it was all there all the time, all at once. No wonder he was having trouble staying focused on the real world, so much of his mind was occupied with the events that took place on the Borg cube.

She had saved the damage to his face until last. They had stood in front of a mirror and he had reached out to his reflection, half-remembering, half-visualising the implants that had been. His face had remained impassive, tears pouring involuntarily from his eyes, body trembling.

Supporting him between them once the process was complete, Beverly and Deanna had lead him back into a comfortable position lying back against a bank of cushions on a lounger. His body was completely relaxed and Beverly thought back to the accidental dosing she had put him through just a few days before. His face was reading like an open book, his eyes held contact with her own, total trust evident.

Beverly pulled a blanket around his shoulders and he turned protectively onto his side, bringing his knees up and pulling the blanket tighter. His eyes dropped to a close and for a moment, Beverly thought he was going under.

"No, it's normal. He's in the best condition for this to work now. His brain still needs to process all that we have covered today. It's the end for us, but just the start for his subconscious. Don't worry Beverly." Deanna smiled having sensed her friend's latent guilt, her empathic senses sharper than normal.

Sirian Bandakar dragged the low coffee table over toward the lounger. Between them, they had worked out a sequence of guided questions that would bring the Captain through his experience hopefully ridding him of the worst of the experiences and nightmares that had plagued him.

"The process is complete Counsellor?" he asked gently perching on the edge of the table.

Deanna maintained contact with the sphere gently glowing between her and the dozing Captain, her hands hovering centimetres above it. She closed her eyes, and used its power to assess the efficacy of the treatment.

"Yes, I think it is done. We have mapped and neutralised each unconscious memory, the Captain should find it easier to cope with his memories now." She was dog-tired. Her voice sounded weak, like it was coming from a far-away land.

"The best thing is for him to sleep now." Said Bandakar, turning to Beverly. He knew this process well and had seen it through many times, "As well as the Counsellor of course."

"I'll stay with him, he looks so peaceful." Replied Beverly pausing as she thought through the logistics, "We should transport him to sickbay so I can monitor him. Will that wake him from… this?"

In her mind, she tried to calculate the latency of the Relevatrin in conjunction with the effects of the sphere.

"No, that's a good idea. I agree, go ahead Doctor. He should sleep now, perhaps until the morning." Said Bandakar as he rose to leave the sleeping Captain to be watched over by the Doctor.

Standing to leave for her own quarters, Deanna whispered herself, totally spent.

"Thank you Beverly."

The Captain and Beverly shimmered into their transport to sickbay, Troi would sleep herself now, and then tomorrow would bring a new day. Until then, she was more than reassured that Beverly would be standing guard, ready for whatever the night may bring.