Will Riker chose to report in with Jellico first, before making his way to Sickbay. He would have preferred to avoid the man, but he was still technically in command of the ship, even though Picard had returned. And we wouldn't have him back if it hadn't been for Edward Jellico, Riker reminded himself as he stepped off the forward turbolift and walked straight to the ready room door. He pushed the door chime and waited for permission to enter.

"Come in," sounded faintly from the other side.

The door slid open, and Riker went into the room.

Jellico was standing behind the desk removing pictures from the wall, his back to the door. He didn't turn to look at the first officer.

"I'm reporting for duty, sir," Riker said, his voice calm and steady.

"I'm glad," Jellico replied, still busy with the wall. "I have something I need you to do."

Riker straightened. What now? "Yes, sir?"

Jellico turned toward him and laid a stack of drawings on the desk. "I need to see Picard's report."

Riker's jaw hardened. Good god, the man hasn't even been back on board for a day yet. "I'm sure the captain will get to it as soon as he can," he answered, trying to be diplomatic. "Doctor Crusher isn't overly fond of her patients filing reports while in her care."

Jellico shook his head and sank down into the desk chair. "No, Doctor Crusher doesn't strike me as someone who would allow that in her sickbay." He hesitated for a moment, his fingers rifling through the pictures. "That's why I want you down there. Check on Picard, see how he's doing. Get me that report, Commander." He was trying to make his voice sound firm, demanding; Riker saw through the facade. But he didn't let on. "As soon as that report is on file, I can read it. And as soon as Picard is out of Sickbay, I can go." He looked up at Riker. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Perfectly.

"Dismissed, Commander."

Riker left immediately, shaking his head in confusion once outside the door. He couldn't read Edward Jellico. Never knew what to expect next. Maybe that's what bothered him so about the man. True, he got his job done in his own way, but something about him reminded the first officer of a lone wolf, just as Troi had mentioned earlier. And the trouble with lone wolves was that you never knew where or when they would strike.

Thankfully, Riker stepped on the turbolift and headed for Sickbay. He found himself smiling at the realization of who he would find there.

~vVv~

Beverly Crusher was just removing an empty plate from the captain's bedside table when Riker walked in. It was good to see he had a healthy appetite.

Picard looked over at him as he turned on his computer. "Good morning, Number One." Damn, I'm glad to see you.

"Good morning, sir." Thank god you're back. "How are you feeling?"

Picard shot a glance at Crusher. "I feel fine. And I'm ready to get out of here."

"Not until this afternoon," the doctor said as she slipped out the door, escaping any rebuttals.

Riker stepped closer to the bed, a grin on his face. "You know how she is, sir. Very thorough in her job."

Picard sighed. "Thorough to a fault," he muttered, then glanced at the computer screen. "I should have this report done within the hour. I know Captain Jellico is eager to see it."

"Well, sir, he did send me down here to check on it."

Picard raised an eyebrow. "Did he?"

Riker nodded. "I think it was all pretense though, an excuse for allowing me to come and see how you were doing." He sighed. "I just can't read him. One minute he makes sense and the next-"

"He's a fine captain, Will." Picard paused, thoughts forming behind tired, circled eyes. "We're not all cut out of the same cloth, you know? Each of us has our own style of command. You and I are different in many ways."

"But I've always believed that we complement each other, sir. Our styles work well together."

Picard grinned and laughed slightly. "They do now."

Riker thought back to their first months as a team. It hadn't always been smooth sailing. It had taken time. Time.

"You see?" Picard said, reading the thoughts on Riker's face.

"Yes, sir." I see.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to finish this report so that all interested parties can review it. Please tell Counselor Troi that I am fine, and I will talk to her later." He was all business now, all captain.

"Yes, sir." Riker smiled with relief and took a step backwards, as Picard moved his gaze back to the computer screen.

"Oh, and Will, I would appreciate your returning shortly after 1200 hours. I may need someone to help me escape from here if Beverly changes her mind about releasing me. You know how she is," he added.

"I'll be back, sir." You can count on it.

~vVv~

His report was finished, signed, sealed, documented, relayed to all appropriate channels. It hadn't been easy to write. And yet, it was better to have done it now, while the events were still fresh in his mind. Not that he would ever forget them, not that he could. If he closed his eyes, he could still see Madred and the lights. There are four lights.

He kept his eyes open, although he was tired. Better not let Beverly know that. I'll never get out of here. And he did so want to get out. Wanted desperately to return to his cabin, be surrounded by familiar possessions. And yet... I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be away from her.

We will get what we need from the human female. The memory of those words seemed to stop his heartbeat even now, as it had then. I'm home. Relax. It's over. There are four lights. He drew in a deep, calming breath. Madred's words had cut through him, caused more pain than any amount of torture could have. Beverly. He couldn't let them hurt her. And he'd stayed. He would have stayed forever to keep her safe. To even believe that he'd kept her safe. For he couldn't really trust Madred. Beverly Crusher could have already been dead at that moment, but he hadn't allowed himself to believe that. She was safe. Safe. And walking through his door, carrying...

"My uniform." A broad smile replaced his frown, but not before Crusher noticed.

"Yes, your uniform," she said, placing it on the bed beside him. She touched his arm. "Are you all right?"

He sighed. "I'm fine, Beverly." He stared down at the cranberry and black material. "You're going to release me?" Please.

"I was thinking about it," she replied with a sigh of her own. Only I'm not ready to let you go.

He grimaced. "Doctor, let's not play games. Either you are here to release me from Sickbay, or you're not." He leveled his gaze on her. "I would prefer that you release me." I think.

"I would prefer to release you also, but..." No, that's a lie. I don't want to release you. Not ever.

"But what?" He arched an eyebrow at her. "You just brought me my uniform; you admitted that you were thinking of releasing me. I feel fine, my injuries are healing-"

"That's right. They're still healing, Jean-Luc. They're not completely healed yet." What they did to you... "And you could still have a reaction to the drugs they gave you. If I could just keep you here under a regen field for another day-"

"They're just bruises, Beverly. Not broken bones." He ran his hand over his chest. "Those have healed. And the bruises will fade. In time. And I will contact you immediately if a start to feel ill." He was silent for a moment, his green eyes studying her carefully. "Please. Will you release me?"

She hesitated a moment. His body was still covered with bruises, dark, mottled surface hemorrhaging. But it wasn't life threatening, and so she nodded, "Yes." Picard's smile returned, as she increased the pressure of her hand on his arm. "But if anything bothers you. If you experience any pain-" I'm here, Jean-Luc.

"I'll know where to come, and who to see. I promise." He gently covered her hand with his own, patting it lightly. "I'm all right. And more than ready to take command of my ship." He saw the worry in her expression. "And I thought I might have a talk with Counselor Troi."

Crusher smiled. She knew when he was placating her. But it was a good idea, one she was about to suggest herself. "Very well. But then you go to your quarters and get a good night's sleep. No overworking, no catching up on reports. You'll have tomorrow for that." And every day afterwards.

"I will, Doctor. I assure you."

She pulled her hand away from his arm. "Get dressed. Commander Riker is in my office, waiting to escort you to your bridge... Captain."

~vVv~

When the door of the turbo-lift opened, Jean-Luc Picard stepped out, onto his bridge. Home. Will Riker hovered behind him like a mother hen. But that was all right. In a way, it was comforting. As were the words that he heard: "Captain on the bridge." Crew members snapped to attention.

Picard strode down the ramp to where Edward Jellico stood, Riker following close behind him.

"Welcome home, Jean-Luc," Jellico said, reaching out and shaking his hand.

Picard released a sigh, inclining his head slightly. "Thank you," he responded, taking a deep breath.

"Just the way you left it. Maybe a little better," Jellico assured with a wave of a hand and his usual confidence.

Picard's eyes roamed over the bridge. It was the way he'd left it. Thankfully.

"Computer." Jellico's tone took on a serious note. "Transfer all command codes to Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Voice authorization: Jellico, Alpha 3-1."

There was the working sound of the computer, and then, "Transfer complete. U.S.S. Enterprise now under command of Captain Jean-Luc Picard."

It was a welcome thing to hear, but sobering, and Picard's face was grim. "I relieve you, sir," he said, assuming the weight of command once more. It seemed heavier somehow.

"I stand relieved," Jellico replied without hesitation. He crossed to the ramp, then turned back slightly. "It's been an honor serving with you." And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the aft turbo-lift.

The captain settled his gaze on Riker for a moment. "You have the bridge, Number One." His voice sounded weary, exhausted.

"Aye, sir."

Picard nodded at Troi, then headed toward his ready room. The counselor exchanged a knowing look with Riker, and then followed the captain.

Once inside, the door slid closed as Picard motioned toward the sofa. Troi sat down and crossed her legs. She could sense his emotions, although he was trying to contain them, block them, not so much from her, but from himself.

Slowly, he sank down next to her, his palms running nervously over his thighs and knees. "I, uh..." He crossed one leg over the other, pulled at his uniform, then drew his hands together in his lap. "I don't know where to begin," he said softly, exhaling a heavy sigh. "It was a..." He fell silent, his eyes staring straight ahead, as if he were seeing it all again, reliving it. And there were no words to describe what he'd seen and lived.

Troi leaned toward him. "I read your report." Words that couldn't be spoken had somehow been written.

Picard shifted, moving his shoulders, and nodded slightly. "What I didn't put in the report was that," he unclenched his hands, using them to help shape his words, "at the end he gave me a choice between a life of comfort or more torture. All I had to do was to say that I could see five lights, when in fact there were only four." He paused, his lips pursed slightly.

"You didn't say it?"

"No." He shook his head. "No..." His eyes were again seeing things only he could see, visual memories that would forever be a part of his mind. "But I was going to." His voice was weak, low, so brittle. A whisper. "I would have told him anything...anything at all." He drew in a sharp, shallow breath. "But more than that, I believed that I could see...five lights." There are...five lights.

~vVv~