Chapter 7

It seemed like the thing to do at the time…confess his sin to Deanna. However, once he began the actual conversation, he started to change his mind. He thought this would be the same type of recovery that he had dealt with upon his rescue from the Borg. He would tell Deanna what had happened, how he felt…She would help him figure out how he would deal with it…and life would slowly become livable again. However, this conversation felt different right from the start. This situation was different. His ordeal with the Borg had been traumatic for sure, a violation that raped his very soul. It had been him against the unstoppable power of their collective might and had had absolutely no chance at withstanding them. His assimilation was inescapable; he had had no choice; and with the help of Deanna and finally Robert, he had learned to live with it.

But this new humiliation possessed a subtle yet real variation on the theme. This wasn't Jean Luc Picard humiliated by an entire race. This was Jean Luc Picard against one man. That man…no…that monster had driven him to the point of actually giving up. He, Picard, had been about to choose defeat. Choose it! That concept had never entered his mind in his entire life…giving up? Was he really this weak? He felt shame and embarassment simply to contemplate it. And telling someone about it wouldn't change a damn thing.

An abrupt pulse of raw anger welled up in the Captain at the thought, and he stood up suddenly and walked a few steps away from Deanna, keeping his back to her as he tried to contain his emotions. He wanted to hit something, lash out at something. He felt the metal manacles on his wrists again and the unforgiving hands of the guards on his upper arms as they dragged him across the room. The frustration of being bound and manhandled by the guards blazed, his breath becoming caught up in his chest…a scream of rage wanting to escape. He suddenly had the overwhelming feeling of being trapped. He clenched his fists at his side, shoulder muscles bunching into knots visible through his uniform

Troi saw and felt the wave of panic that immediately filled the room. She remained calm. "Captain, I sense how angry you are right now. This is a perfectly normal reaction…"

"Deanna," Picard said, cutting her off mid-sentence, "thank you for listening." He turned around to face her, his entire body tense. "We should continue this at another time. I told Beverly that I would go right back to sickbay." He tried to grin and play off the panic attack, but his voice was tight and his jaw was set. "You know how she gets when she doesn't get her way."

Deanna returned the grin but wasn't fooled. Sensing that he felt trapped, she remained seated and unthreatening. "You need to acknowledge these feelings you are having."

"Oh, I'm acknowledging them. Thank you, Deanna." Without another word, Picard turned and strode out of his Ready Room leaving Troi still sitting on the couch. She let him escape.

"Number One, I'll be in Sick Bay," Picard said as he strode into forward turbolift, eyes focused directly ahead. Thank God the turbolift was there and waiting! As had happened in the Cardassian torture chamber, Picard's world collapsed down to only one thing...survival. He had to get away, get out of that room, escape the pain he was feeling.

"Aye, Captain," Riker said from the command chair.

Troi came out of the Ready Room just as the turbolift doors closed. She looked at the closed doors and then at Riker, concern in her eyes. It didn't take an empath to feel the storm of turmoil that had just exited the bridge.

The turbolift doors closed just in time. It had taken all of the willpower Picard had to hold himself together in the short distance from his Ready Room to the turbolift. He felt like he was going to explode with anxiety, anger, frustration, and the palpable sense of being trapped. His head was swimming as these emotions washed over him, unable to control the intensity of the sensations. All he could hear was his pounding heart and ragged breaths. Although his eyes were wide in terror, he didn't see anything. He had to escape. When Picard realized through his internal chaos that the lift had not started moving, he burst out, "Sickbay," angrily to the computer.

The lift began to move and the captain took deep breaths to try to calm himself, hands still balled into fists. It wasn't working, and the lack of control was so foreign to him that it only escalated the panic. He could see in his mind's eye the lift doors opening and a crewman seeing him in this state. No place was safe. "Halt!" The turbolift stopped between decks. Jean Luc Picard, captain of the federation's flagship backed numbly against the wall of the lift and slid down to the floor, knees to his chest, head buried in his hands, overcome with soul-wrenching sobs.