The puzzle was almost finished. They'd all worked on it. Even when Picard wasn't in regression. In some ways, it was symbolic of what they were going through. Trying to piece something back together.

Picard sat at the dining table, a cup of Earl Grey tea in one hand, the fingers of his other hand idly pushing puzzle pieces into place. He looked up as Crusher came in from the next room. She had on her blue lab jacket and was arranging the collar around her neck.

"I wish you'd come with me," she said, not for the first time.

Picard shook his head. "No, thank you, Doctor. You'd strap me down to a bio-bed and do terrible things to me." He gave her a half smile.

"Well, if that's your way of saying I'd give you a thorough physical, you're right. My tricorder readings are accurate, but it's just not the same."

"I'll be fine here, Beverly. Will and I have some reports to go over." He took a sip of his tea. "And besides, he lets me pretend I'm making decisions."

Crusher frowned and stepped over to the table. She reached down and placed a hand on Picard's arm. "Jean-Luc, you are making decisions. And Will isn't reviewing ship's business with you just for the fun of it. He depends on your insights and expertise."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Picard smiled up at her. "Just as I depend on yours."

Crusher squeezed his arm. "Thank you. Now, let that be your last cup of tea for a while. You're drinking entirely too much lately."

Picard sighed. "But Beverly-"

"I know how you feel about your Earl Grey, but I'm serious. You need to drink more milk, or water."

"Can I have a little bread with that?" he deadpanned.

"Only if you're a model prisoner," she returned.

Just then, the door chime sounded.

"Ah, changing of the guards," Picard mumbled, and took another sip of tea.

"Come in," Crusher called.

The door slid open and Will Riker came inside. "Hello," he greeted them, stepping over to the table.

"Good afternoon, Will," Picard said, indicating the chair across from him with a wave of his tea cup. "Have a seat."

Riker settled into the chair. Crusher laid a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Will. I'll be back later this afternoon. Would you do me a favor and make sure that's his last cup of tea for the day."

"And put him down for his nap at 1500 hours," Picard added. "Sooner, if he doesn't behave himself."

Crusher shook her head. "And don't let him give you a hard time." She leaned over and kissed Picard on the cheek. "Be nice to Will," she whispered. "I'll be back later."

And then she was gone, the door sliding closed behind her.

Riker stared across the table at his captain, and slowly shook his head. "You have been giving her a difficult time, haven't you?" he asked with a grin.

"It gives me something to do besides this puzzle," Picard replied.

Riker glanced down at the table. "It's coming along nicely, though." He ran a finger over the interlocking pieces. "We've just got to finish this part right in here."

Picard nodded. "Yeah. The captain's yacht. I can't find it."

"Well, ship's business will have to wait." His fingers started sifting through loose pieces. "We can't have a missing yacht."

Picard smiled and joined the search, their conversation turning to ship's business after all. It was reassuring to know that things were running smoothly, but a little disconcerting to realize that they were running smoothly without him. But Will Riker was a more than capable first officer, and Picard would have expected no less in his absence.

"I think this goes somewhere," Riker said, holding a puzzle piece up in his hand.

"Well, of course, it goes somewhere," Picard responded.

"No, I mean I think it's part of the yacht."

They'd been working on the puzzle for almost an hour, and still the captain's yacht eluded them.

Picard pushed several pieces randomly around the table and sighed. "Why can't I do this? It's not even a difficult puzzle. Look at the size of the pieces."

Riker detected the edge of tension in Picard's voice. He looked up and studied the older man's face. Lines creased his forehead, and his lips were pulled into a tight frown.

"Hey," he said lightly, "I'm having some trouble with it, too. It's not easy."

"It's a puzzle, Will. A toy... I can't... I just can't...get it." Picard's hand closed around several pieces, and he squeezed them tightly in his fist. He closed his eyes, and Riker watched as the tension in his face relaxed a bit. A few moments later, his eyes opened. And Riker could see the innocence reflected in them.

"Jean-Luc?" He reached out and touched Picard's hand.

"I can't do it," he murmured.

Riker closed his hand around Picard's, realizing that he'd regressed. He exhaled a heavy breath. It had been three days since his last episode.

"It's all right, Jean-Luc. Why don't we leave it for a while, do something else?"

"No!" Picard pulled his hand away. "I want to finish it." He pounded his fist on the table. "Why can't I do it?"

"Maybe you're just tired," Riker tried to reason. "You can take a rest and later-"

Picard's eyes flashed up at him. "I don't want to take a nap," he yelled. "I want..." He hesitated. "Will...I feel strange."

Riker reached over and placed his hand back on Picard's. "It's all right. I'm with you."

"Why...why do I feel like this?" He scrubbed his other hand over his eyes, wiping at the tears that had gathered there. "Why?"

Riker strengthened his grip on Picard's hand. "It'll pass, Jean-Luc," he assured him.

Picard shook his head, his body beginning to tremble with fear. "I can't do it." He pushed at the puzzle with his other hand, and several of the pieces tore apart. Anger flashed over his face. "I can't!" he yelled again, and pulled his hand away from Riker"s. He pushed at the puzzle once more, and it slid off the table, half the pieces landing in Riker's lap, the other half scattering onto the floor.

Tears were streaming down his face now, and he was gasping for breath.

"Jean-Luc?" Riker reached out to him, but he pushed at the younger man's hands.

"Leave me alone," he shouted, jumping up from the table. He took a step back and ran into the wall. He flinched, looking around furtively, as if he were an animal caught in a trap.

Riker stood up. "Jean-Luc." He said the name firmly, trying to draw him back to some sense of reality.

"No...no." He began to cry steadily, tears blurring his vision. He managed to move away from the table and across the cabin toward his bedroom.

Riker didn't move to intercept him, but watched as he disappeared into the next room. Then he followed him.

Picard was sitting on the edge of his bed, rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm. His face and eyes were red, his nose running, each breath a shallow gasp. Riker crossed over and sat down next to him. He tried putting an arm around him.

Picard shook his head and pushed him away.

"Jean-Luc?"

"No..." His crying intensified, and he turned away from Riker, collapsing onto the bed, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably with each sob.

Riker sat for a moment, knowing that his presence wasn't helping. Reluctantly, he stood. "I'll be in the next room, Jean-Luc," he said, not sure whether Picard heard or cared. And he left him, crying inconsolably, on the bed.

~vVv~

Crusher was disappointed when she came back from Sickbay late that afternoon to find the puzzle in pieces on the floor.

"He, uh... He got a little frustrated," Riker explained, looking up from where he sat on the sofa.

"Where is he?"

Riker glanced toward the bedroom. "He's sleeping."

Crusher went to the half open door and looked in on him. He was lying on his stomach, his back rising and falling in a gentle rhythm, the blankets twisted around his legs. She turned back to Riker. "Any nightmares?"

He nodded. "Just one. But he didn't wake up. He just...sort of fought his way through it."

Crusher stepped back into the living area and sat down in a chair opposite the first officer. "What got him so frustrated?"

"He, um..." Riker hesitated. He hated to tell Crusher that he'd experienced another regressive episode, although he was fairly sure she'd figured it out already.

"Will, you can tell me. He went into regression didn't he?"

"Yeah," Riker admitted. "But it was different, Beverly. It was like he knew he was in regression and he couldn't stop it or... consciously come out of it."

"And that's why the puzzle is all over the floor?"

"Like I said, he was frustrated. He kept asking me why he felt so strange. And we tried to work on the puzzle, because during the other times you know how much he seemed to enjoy it. But he couldn't concentrate. And after he...pushed it on to the floor, he went into his bedroom and cried for a little while. I tried to hold him. He just pushed me away, too."

"Have you tried calling Deanna?"

He nodded. "She's in conference. I left her a message."

Crusher leaned back and ran her fingers through her hair. "This means something, Will. I'm not sure what, but...it may not be as negative as it seems."

"I hope not. I was just getting used to having him back."

~vVv~

"I agree with Beverly. I think this is a good sign. If he's aware of his surroundings while he's in regression, then he's come a long way from where he was last week. This is what we were hoping would happen. That there would be some...sense of integration." She sighed and glanced from Riker to Crusher. "But it's not going to be easy. In some ways, it'll be more frightening than it has been."

"But what you're saying is...he's almost well?" Riker looked at Troi hopefully.

And she nodded. "That's what I'm saying. I just hope I'm right. Beverly, what do you think?"

"I'm not sure. And there's really no way I can be. When he's not in regression, his brain scans are normal. The initial nerve damage is healed. I think we're just waiting for the regressive episodes to end."

"And when will they?"

Troi shook her head. "Another week...maybe sooner."

"Am I invited to this conference?" Picard's voice came from the bedroom doorway. They all looked over at him.

"I assume I'm the... topic of conversation," he said, stepping over to the sitting area.

Crusher made room for him on the sofa and he sat down beside her. She placed a hand on his arm. "You are our favorite topic of conversation."

Picard sighed and glanced over at Riker. "Will... I'm sorry. About earlier."

Riker smiled. "There's no need to be."

"Can you remember what happened?" Troi asked.

Picard nodded. "A little bit. I was...confused. But I knew that I was. It made me...angry. It's like I...I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't make it right."

"And your nightmare?" Troi gazed at him.

"Same as usual...Borg, Cardassians...Will."

"Ah, a sense of humor," Riker returned. "He is getting better."

Picard smiled slightly, pleased with himself. But then the look on his face sobered. "It was frightening though. To know that...I wasn't in control. To feel..."

"To feel vulnerable?" Troi offered.

Picard nodded. "To be vulnerable is one thing, to have to feel it is another."

"It's not easy," Crusher agreed, "but we are here for you. And don't feel embarrassed with us."

"Easier said than done," Picard murmured, his eyes dropping to his lap.

"Hey, is anybody hungry?" Riker spoke up.

They all smiled.

And Troi sighed. Leave it to Will to break the tension with reference to food.

Picard looked up. "Actually, I am."

~vVv~

"Will, I know you were against the idea of a fourth rotation when Jellico mentioned it, but we might want to re-examine it for emergency procedures," Picard suggested as he took a sip of his tea.

Riker leaned back in the chair across the table from him. "It would alleviate some problems," Riker though out loud. "But it could also create some new ones."

Crusher shook her head and motioned Troi over to the sitting area. They settled on the sofa.

"They'll never miss us," the doctor said softly.

Troi smiled. "It's good to hear him like this."

Crusher drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. "Very good." She gazed over at the men sitting at the table. "And speaking of good." She glanced back at Troi. "Where did you find that recipe we had for dinner? That was wonderful."

Troi laughed. "It's one of my mother's."

"Are you telling me that Lwaxana cooks?"

"No. She eats. And this is a recipe she found on Loftmanis Two. It's really much better with fresh eel, but I think the replicator does a fairly good job with it."

Crusher's eyes widened. "It has eel in it?"

"Well, just replicated eel. You can prepare it with Prestonian slug worms, but I prefer the eel."

"You've been seeing too much of Worf. This sounds Klingon."

"Actually, I haven't been seeing too much of anyone."

Crusher nodded. "I know."

"Jean-Luc?" Riker's voice came from the table, louder than it had been.

"Will?" Crusher and Troi stood up and stepped over to them.

Picard was sitting very still, his tea cup in his hand. He was staring straight across the table at Riker, but it wasn't as if he were actually seeing him.

"Jean-Luc?" Crusher touched his shoulder, her other hand taking his cup away from him. She set it on the table. "Jean?"

"Bev...erly?" he responded quietly, his voice shaking.

"I'm right here."

He looked up at her, a frown creasing his face. "I'm...I'm sleepy." Tears had filled his eyes.

Crusher ran her fingers along his cheek. "Let's get you in bed then, all right?"

He nodded and allowed her to help him up from the table. Taking hold of his arm, she led him into the next room.

Riker stared over at Troi. Then he got up and walked around the table. "That was fast, Deanna. One minute we were talking about crew rotations, and the next, I'd lost him."

Troi placed a hand on his arm. "But not completely. He still knows who he is, who Beverly is. He is improving. He just needs some more rest." She took note of the worried expression on Riker's face. "And our friendship, Will," she added, wrapping her arm around him and giving him a hug.

~vVv~

"Blue ones," Picard murmured as Crusher moved to put a gray pajama shirt on him.

Crusher ran her hand along the side of his face. "All right. Blue ones." She went back to his dresser drawer and returned with a blue pair of pajamas. "These?" She held them out in front of her.

Picard smiled slightly and nodded his head. He sat patiently on the side of the bed while she dressed him, making no move to dress himself.

He was tired.

And she would take care of him.

When the pajamas were on, Crusher pulled back the blankets and helped him crawl underneath them. He settled into the pillows. She sat down beside him. He snuggled closer to her. She was warm, and he felt safe with her. He reached his hand out, and she took hold of it.

"Bev...I feel...different."

"You're tired, Jean-Luc. It's all right."

He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He was more than just tired. He knew that. But he couldn't think straight. He pressed his face against her thigh and closed his eyes.

Crusher stroked her hand over his head. And she began to hum. Soft, soothing.

Within minutes, he was asleep.

~vVv~