Rating: PG-13 for language

Disclaimer: Would love to own ST, but I just borrow the characters and return them intact

The first feeling Pike recognized was the panic of rising through a swimming pool crowded with people, trying to push toward the surface of the water. It was immediately followed by abject pain, a fire that seemed to emanate from every inch of his body. Just as suddenly, the pain eased, lifted away as a blanket off a bed.

He'd been through Starfleet's program on enemy captivity – survival, evasion, resistance, escape – designed tried to prepare command personnel for situations such as he'd experienced on the Nerada. It sounded so easy in theory and even in the mock capture and pretend torture that highlighted the program. When the real capture and torture happened to him, the only trait of the four he'd apparently managed was survival. He was alive, sort of.

The last time he'd awakened had been terrifying. He couldn't turn his thoughts into words. Yes, dammit, he understood he was on the Enterprise, that Kirk had rescued him and brought him back. Yes, he knew his name, his rank, his serial number. Doctor McCoy – he still hadn't figured out why it wasn't Dr. Puri – was clearly concerned at his inability to respond articulately. So was he; you couldn't very well be a productive member of society, let alone a starship captain, if you couldn't voice your thoughts.

He was determined not to allow himself to fall back to sleep -- into oblivion where he could forget the failings of his body. This time, he needed to stay awake long enough to elicit a diagnosis and a prognosis from Puri.

"Captain Pike?"

He turned toward the voice. It was McCoy again. Odd.

"Are you having any pain?"

You know I was which is obviously why you hit me with that hypo. And since I'm no longer screaming, you probably figure it worked. "No."

"Do you remember who I am?"

You're the guy who's probably stuck telling me that I'm going to be permanently incapacitated. "Coy."

"Captain, I'm going to ask you some questions, ask you to do some things, so that I can map your injuries. It won't hurt."

That's what the doctors always said, until it did hurt, and then they apologized as if the pain they'd just caused was one big surprise. "K."

"I want you to start by reciting the alphabet."

That's easy. abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz. "H." No, that's not right. A. God, how stupid I must look. Get it right, Chris. "A . . . B . . . G . . . . no . . . P." McCoy's eyes remained glued to his while the nurse wrote everything on her PADD. This would look great on his next command review.

"That's fine," McCoy was saying. "Don't worry about it now; it'll come back."

Sure it will.

"I'm going to say the names of three objects. I want you to try to remember them because I'm going to ask about them later. The objects are: computer, shoe, apple.

Computer, shoe, apple. Was there some logic to that choice? What mnemonic works for those? Computer, shoe, apple.

"I'm going to touch your skin with a pin. Tell me if it's the sharp end or the dull end."

He said this wasn't going to hurt and now he's sticking me with pins. McCoy uncovered his feet. Ow! Damn that hurt. "Hurt."

Why was McCoy frowning? And where the hell was Puri?

"Captain Pike, where do you feel the pain?"

Where does he think I feel it? "Ear." Oh, shit. No one's touching my ear.

He tried to remain patient as McCoy stepped him through a series of tests – light, sound, touch, taste. The doctor was careful to control his reactions and Pike had trouble figuring out how he was doing. When the tests were over, he'd demand an answer, and ask to see Puri.

"Do you remember the three items I mentioned earlier?"

Crap, what were they? Oh yeah, shoe, computer, apple. "Foot. Fruit. Why was it so hard to say three simple words? "Apple." He was straining with the effort.

"It's all right, Captain."

I am going to say these three words if it kills me. "Shoe." Computer, dammit. It was too hard. He pointed at the nurse's PADD. Computer. Computer!

"Got it," McCoy replied with a smile. "That's enough for now. I think it's time for you to get some rest."

"Sults. Re. Sults."

"I know you want the results of your tests. I'll discuss them with you later, when I've had a chance to evaluate them and you're not so tired."

Somehow, I don't think I'm going to win this argument. There was one more thing he had to know. "K. Ate?"

McCoy and the nurse exchanged quizzical glances. "I don't understand."

This is so frustrating. Where is Kate? Why isn't she here?

"Kate. Where?"

"Dr. Puri? She's not here."

I know she isn't here. Where is she? She's been my CMO for years; she should be taking care of me not some cadet three days out of the Academy. Why isn't she here?

"There were casualties in the Romulan attack." McCoy was speaking again. "Dr. Puri was among them."

No! No! No! McCoy, I was delivering bad news before you were born. I know the routine. Break it to them gently; allow them to absorb each piece before you make it worse. She was dead. Kate was dead. Oh, God no. Not you. Please, not you. Please, tell me this isn't happening. "Dead?"

"Yes, Captain. She died in the attack, killed instantly. I'm so sorry."

McCoy was saying something else but he was no longer listening. It didn't matter. Nothing would change what had happened. Tears formed in his eyes and he was powerless to stop them from leaking onto his face. Kate was dead. And how many others? How many of his crew had been killed?

"Many?"

"We'll talk about it later."

He tried for his best command voice. "Now!"

"Later, Captain."

He saw McCoy nod, felt the familiar pressure of a hypo, felt himself falling into oblivion, as powerless to stop the freefall as he had been the tears.