dark_sinestra

When morning arrived, he checked himself out very early. He knew he was out of danger now, and he didn't want to run the risk of encountering Nurse Decla. The less she knew of the situation, the better for both of them. He thought of going to Garak's quarters, but he couldn't bring himself to face him, not quite yet. He also rejected his own quarters. It was possible the man could be there waiting for him. Was he still afraid? He had to admit to himself that he was. He needed to talk to someone, see a friendly face. He desperately needed outside perspective. As he ran through the list of everyone he knew, the choice was a simple one. He made his way to Dax's quarters and hesitantly rang the chime. It took a second ring before her sleepy voice came through the comm. “Who's there?”

“It...it's Julian. I...shouldn't have come so early. I'm sorry,” he said, feeling completely idiotic. He should be able to handle his own problems, not go running to someone like a frightened child when something went wrong.

“No, it's OK,” she said, sounding a little more awake. “Come in.” The door opened and he stepped into the darkened quarters. The lights came up suddenly, and Dax padded barefoot from her bedroom in a plain white nightgown that came down to her knees. She covered a yawn. “What's going on?” she asked.

He opened his mouth only to feel his face contort. No, he thought fiercely, don't you dare cry!

She hurried the rest of the way to him. “Julian?” she said, her brows dipped downward in concern. She cupped his face lightly in both hands. “Tell me.”

“I can't,” he said, shying away from the touch. His eyes stung, and tears dropped heavily over his lower lashes.

“Oh, sweetie,” she said, pulling him into an embrace that he didn't fight. He felt mortified, but her uncomplicated kindness wrung the pain of the past twelve hours from him effortlessly. She held him tightly and gently stroked the back of his head. He felt safer than he had in days, and it hurt all the worse because he knew he shouldn't feel safer with a friend than with the man he loved. Everything was upside down. “You need to tell me,” she said, quietly insistent and pulling back so that she could look at him.

The concerned blue gaze burned him, his shame almost overwhelming. He tried a few times before he could get out, “I had a fight with Garak.”

“I'm sorry,” she said gently, stroking his cheek. “You know, he just went through something really terrible. Maybe he just needs some space. I don't think he'd leave you for good.”

“He didn't leave me,” he said. The understanding dawning in her eyes made him wish that he could crawl into a hole. He had never felt so humiliated in his life. What had possessed him to come to her? “I shouldn't have come here, you know. I really am fine.” He tried to smile, feeling his lips tremble.

“Did he hit you?” she asked, her voice gentle but her eyes hard.

“No, he...not exactly,” he answered, squirming under that gaze.

“What exactly did he do?” she asked. Her grip on him tightened.

Instinctively, he jerked back, eyes wide. That hold felt too much like Garak's. “I..it's nothing, OK? I really shouldn't have come!”

“Julian, listen to me. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Do you understand me? This isn't your fault. Whatever you did or said, he had no right to harm you. Are you all right? Have you gotten checked out at the infirmary?”

He nodded and mumbled, “It was just some bruising.”

She guided him to sit on her sofa and replicated him some tea, putting the mug into his hands. Sitting close beside him on the couch, she said, “Has he ever done anything like this to you before?”

“No,” he said, not lifting his gaze from the reflective surface of his tea. The night they got back together was different, wasn't it? It had to be. He had enjoyed it. Only because you wanted him so badly you'd have accepted almost anything if it meant having him inside you. He closed his eyes.

She rubbed soothingly over his back. “I'm glad you're all right physically,” she said. “You can't...tolerate this, you know?” she asked carefully. “I'm not telling you how to live your life, but things like this...they have a way of becoming a pattern if you're not very careful. Garak can be forceful, even by Cardassian standards. If he's suffering from some sort of imbalance after his ordeal, he could be extremely dangerous. I'm worried about your safety.”

“He took me to the infirmary,” he said. “He felt terrible about what happened. I...I pushed him, Dax. You know how I can be.” He hazarded a glance at her.

She took the tea out of his hands and leaned forward to set it on her coffee table. Straightening, she took both of his hands between hers. “I know that no matter how much you've ever managed to annoy me, I have never once thought about hitting you or harming you for it. The only justification he could ever have for hurting you physically is if you attacked him first. I know you well enough to know you didn't do something like that.”

“Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing with him,” he whispered miserably. “I...keep trying to tell myself that we can make this work and find a way to be happy, but something always happens to get in the way. This loss of his, whatever happened on the raid, has him torn apart. All I want is to be there for him, but he has this stiff Cardassian pride that just... It's as though everything that feels normal, right, and rational to me is anathema to him. I don't know how to handle that. I feel useless, and I wonder if being with me makes him happy at all, or if it's just that he can't stand to be alone.”

She shook her head. “I don't know the answer to that. I do know that you can't stay with someone who abuses you. It's possible this was a one time thing. I'm not suggesting that you ought to pull up stakes and leave him right away, but Julian, if it happens again, even if he just makes you think it's about to happen, you need to get out of there. People get killed by people who supposedly love them all the time.”

“I know,” he said heavily. “As a doctor, it's not as though I've never seen things like this before. I just never thought anything like it would happen to me.”

She squeezed his hand. “Do you want to stay with me a while? I'll be happy to let you, or if you want to talk to Odo...”

“No,” he said. “I'm not...I'm not quite ready to take that step. If I press charges, there's no going back from that. I don't believe this is the real him. I think he's in so much pain and under so much stress that he briefly snapped. I just happened to be a convenient target. You're entirely too kind to offer to let me bunk with you, but you know it would lead to far too many questions,” he said, finally able to offer her a small, genuine smile. “I swear to you I have no intention of letting him abuse me. I'm going to have a long, hard talk with him, and if anything like this does happen again, I'm through with him.” He sounded more certain of that than he felt, but he could only take things one step at a time, he thought.

“I'm really honored you came to me with something so difficult,” she said, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “I promise that nobody is going to hear about this from me. I know I have a reputation as the station gossip, but I can keep my mouth shut when it's important. If you need to talk or you need a safe place to stay, my door is open to you any time.”

“Thank you, Dax,” he said, drawing her into a tight embrace. “You're a good friend. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Oh, you'd manage,” she said casually, pulling back to smile at him, “but you wouldn't have nearly as much fun.”

Garak

Garak's Clothiers

He wasn't surprised that Julian didn't come by that morning. If anything, he'd be surprised if he ever had anything to do with him again after the terrible things he had said and done to him the night before. It was as though the old Elim, the one Tain took so much pride in, resurfaced for one final hurrah before lying down and staying buried. Shame didn't begin to cover what he felt for what he had done.

The shop was finally starting to look like it might be usable again. He had managed to clean away the soot and debris. He wouldn't be able to replace the glass himself, and he had more clothing racks on order. He was about to go through the bolts in the back to see if anything was salvageable when Lieutenant Dax strode through the open doors. “Lieutenant,” he started to say, only to find himself backed straight into his broken counter and bent back forcefully, a hard forearm tight against his throat.

“Garak,” Dax said, her voice thrumming with fury, “I'm very sorry for your losses. By the way, if you ever lay so much as a finger on Julian with the intent to hurt him again, you'll be wishing that Odo had gotten to you first, because I'll shove you straight out an airlock, and I won't particularly care if you're still breathing right before it happens or not.”

He lay very still beneath the press, even though he could have thrown her off of him had he chosen. It hurt him to think of Julian having to go to the Trill because he was too frightened and confused to come to him. However, he was grateful he had such a good friend to comfort him and come to his defense. “I assure you, Lieutenant, I will never harm him again.”

“You'd better not,” she said through gritted teeth, drawing back and pulling him straight with her fists balled in his tunic. She smoothed it back down and eyed him speculatively. “Are you getting help?” she asked.

“Help?” he asked, confused.

“Yes, help,” she said as though he were a particularly stupid child. “For your grief. Clearly, you aren't doing a good job managing it on your own. I suggest you find somebody to talk to professionally. If you can't bring yourself to do that, then open up to Julian. The only reason I didn't march straight into Odo's office to have you hauled in the moment Julian left my quarters this morning is because I know you've been through hell, and I want to give you the benefit of the doubt for Julian's sake.”

He dropped his gaze to the floor and nodded. She was right. He had lost control precisely because he was trying too hard to hold onto himself alone. If he didn't start doing something constructive to relieve that pressure, he'd explode again despite the best of intentions.

“You're nodding. Does that mean you intend to do what I said?” she asked.

“Yes,” he clarified. “I'll do as you've asked, assuming Julian ever wants to speak to me again.”

She frowned. “I have to admit there's a part of me that wants to let you wonder that,” she said. “You deserve it, but it won't help anything. He loves you, and he still wants to be with you. I'm more than a little terrified that he'd let you do something like whatever you did to him again and still stay with you.”

“He...didn't tell you specifically?” That surprised him.

“No,” she said, her eyes narrowed. “If you're smart, you won't tell me, either. I'm too angry with you right now to be sure I'd control myself.”

He nodded. “I appreciate your candor and your self-control. I'm...sorry.”

“I'm not the one you need to say that to,” she said, turning then and leaving him.

He rubbed absently at his throat, wishing half-heartedly that she had taken it further. It was the least of what he deserved. He knew that he'd have to be the one to go to Julian. It wasn't fair to expect him to come to him. He determined that as soon as the doctor got off work and got settled in his quarters, he'd do just that.

When the time came, it wasn't so easy to follow through. He paced his own quarters nervously, wondering if he should take some sort of gift and then rejecting the idea as seeming superficial. I'm sorry I almost killed you. Have some flowers. He grunted in self disgust. Palandine's husband had been a selfish brute. On more than one occasion he saw telltale bruises on the woman he had never imagined would tolerate such treatment from anyone. He recalled how helpless and furious he felt when she made excuses. Had Julian made excuses for him to Dax? What right did he have to beg forgiveness?

“Stop being a coward,” he growled and stalked from his quarters. He had no right to expect anything at all from the doctor. He did, however, owe him a sincere apology. Whatever happened as a result of it was entirely up to Julian. He'd abide by any decision he made.

His hand trembled slightly when he lifted it to ring the chime. The, “Enter,” that greeted him sounded tense. He stepped into the quarters and found Julian seated at his dining table in such a way that the width of the table buffered him from anyone at the door. He was still in uniform and had his hands clasped loosely together on the table top. The grip tightened when he looked at Garak. “Sit down,” he told the tailor, nodding at the seat opposite him.

Garak did so, his mouth feeling dry. “How did work go today?” he asked tentatively.

“No,” the doctor said. “We're not going to do that. We're not going to sit here and make small talk until we can work up to what we need to talk about. What you did to me is completely unacceptable.”

“I know,” he breathed. “And I...”

“You'll get to say whatever you want to say when I'm done,” Julian pressed on with a brittle tone to his voice. “You claimed that you've made all manner of compromises in this relationship to shelter me from the reality that's you. Well, I'm asking you right here and now to tell me the truth. Is the reality that you're someone who is going to physically assault me whenever I say or do something you find unacceptable?”

“No,” Garak said, having to fight to keep his voice steady.

“You didn't just assault me. You stripped me. If we're both being honest, we know it's not the first time you intended to take rage out on me sexually. Am I going to have to guard against that one day, being raped by someone I'd normally give myself to willingly? Is that normal, accepted Cardassian behavior, to take advantage of a physically weaker mate and use them any way you see fit?”

“No,” Garak breathed, his gaze settling on the white knuckled grip of the man's hands, clenched together like a snared bird's feet.

“To which question?” Julian snapped.

“To both,” he said. “It's reprehensible.”

The slender man pushed back from the table and stood, turning his side to Garak and staring off toward the back of his quarters. “I'm not interested in your lip service to values you don't share.”

“I don't understand what you mean,” he said, for the first time having some appreciation for how some of his interrogation subjects must have felt in his presence. This was a side of Julian he had never seen, and he was positively terrified that he had already lost him for good.

“Please,” the doctor scoffed, shooting him a skeptical side glance. “If you believed what you were saying, that treating me that way is reprehensible, you wouldn't have done it, either time it has happened.”

“You said you were OK with that night,” he pointed out, feeling a small surge of resentment.

“That was my mistake,” Julian retorted, nodding. “And I'll accept that much responsibility for what happened last night. I gave you the impression that I'm willing to tolerate abuse just for the privilege of being your lover and that I'll crawl back begging for more.” He suddenly wheeled on him, fury and pain flaring in his eyes. “I'm not! I have tried my best to tread on eggshells when it comes to matters of your pride and privacy, and no, you never asked me to. You never had to! I was willing to do it because I love you and want to make you happy. I'm not willing to be your...your punching bag! And I'm not willing to let you shove me away whenever you feel like it just because letting me be there hurts your pride.

“You're physically stronger than I am. You're a better hand to hand fighter than I am. There's a definite inequity there, but if you think for one instant that makes us anything less than equal in this relationship, then you had best think again! If you ever lay a hand on me in anger again, even once,” he said, visibly shaking, “we're through, and I will...by God, I will have you arrested, no matter how embarrassing or mortifying it is for me!”

“As you should,” Garak said, exhaling heavily. He quieted to be sure that Julian didn't have more to say. When he was fairly sure that he was done, he said, “I know that 'I'm sorry' rings hollow in the face of the sort of betrayal I dealt you last night. I could try to explain my state of mind; however, even that sounds more like making excuses, as it's no justification.

“I am sorry. I'm willing to do what it takes to work to earn back the trust I've destroyed. You have my word that I will never attack you again. I won't hold it against you if you greet that announcement with skepticism. Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it.”

“Right now I need space,” he said, folding his arms tightly over his chest. “I thought I'd be OK being alone with you, but the truth is that I'm not. I know things are bad for you right now. I want you to get some help for that. I'm not calling things off or leaving you. I'd tell you if I were.”

“I understand,” he said, nodding. He wanted to tell him that he loved him but held his tongue, afraid that it would sound manipulative under the circumstances. “I'll let you be the one to decide when and how we see each other until you tell me you're ready for me to start asserting my preferences again, as long as you understand that you're not hearing from me not because I'm shutting you out, but because you've asked me to do this.”

Julian nodded. “Thank you, Elim,” he said. “Unless you have anything else you'd like to say, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave. We can have lunch together tomorrow at the Replimat.”

“I'd like that,” Garak said, standing. He hated that Julian took a step back just from such an innocuous move. For all that he had cautioned the doctor against trusting him through the years, he had never meant to imply that he should expect random attacks. His self-loathing dug in deeper. Not even someone like Dukat was such a graceless thug. He paused at the door. “I wouldn't blame you if you did leave me,” he said.

“I have no intention of making it that easy for you,” the doctor replied, the expression in his eyes ambivalent.

Unsure of exactly how to take that, he let himself out. It was ironic that now that he had what he thought he wanted, to be left alone in his grief and confusion, he didn't want it at all. They told him to get help. Who did they think could help him? No one on the station understood Cardassian psychology. He couldn't very well place a call back to Prime and make a long distance appointment to talk about the destruction of the entire Obsidian Order and the death of a man no one but he and Mila knew was his father. What was he to do?

He couldn't face his quarters with the sting of Julian's hard words still in his ears. He had already cleaned blood from the bulkhead. He shuddered from the memory of it and the emotion that had driven him to such violence to begin with. Ask anyone in the quadrant what word came to mind at the mention of Cardassians, and most would say 'cruel' he knew. It wasn't an undeserved reputation. The meekest and kindest of his race could turn vicious when cornered. No one would ever describe him as meek or kind in the first place.

He had learned all he ever needed to know of violence, implacability, tenacity, and yes, cruelty at the knee of a man who rarely deigned to acknowledge him unless he displayed the worst of his tendencies with enthusiasm. Cardassian society didn't reward emotional displays, sentiment, or weakness. Cardassia Prime itself was a harsh planet that demanded resourcefulness and boldness of its sentient population if they wanted to survive. Survival was something at which he excelled, living, not so much.

He let himself into his shop and retreated to his stock room. A few bolts of cloth had survived the explosion unscorched and didn't reek of smoke. He drew one down, a dark green fabric, and laid it out on his cutting table. He lifted a pair of scissors, stretched out a flat length of fabric and began to cut. The scissors slid smoothly, making a sound he found pleasing. Clean lines, uncomplicated patterns, these things made sense to his incredibly structured brain. Strip after strip furrowed and fell unheeded to the floor.

He didn't know how much time had passed when a hand on his shoulder brought him back to himself. He turned to see Odo then looked down at the appallingly large pile of useless fabric strips. “Branching into Dabo girl costumes?” the changeling asked dryly.

He snorted very softly. “I believe these would be more revealing than even they would care to try,” he said.

“I saw your light,” Odo explained. “It's very late.”

Garak nodded, setting the scissors aside. “I didn't realize.”

“Will you be going home soon?” he asked abruptly.

Garak shook his head and bent to gather the scraps to throw them into the recycler. “No, Constable. There were few things on Cardassia more dangerous than incurring Tain's ire. I wasn't the only one held in check by that fact.” As he dumped the strips he added lightly, “I don't belong there anymore, anyway.”

“Not even as a civilian tailor?” Odo asked.

Garak laughed bitterly. “Especially not as that.”

The changeling studied him thoughtfully. “I know you tried to protect me,” he said. “At first I thought that you wanted to go home so badly that you were blinded by Tain, but the more that I've considered it, the more I believe you were trying to protect him, too. Cardassia could use more people like you, not fewer.”

“I'm sure you meant that as a compliment. You'll have to forgive me if I can't take it as such,” Garak said, frowning. “This place is poisonous.” He gestured to include the entire station. “It has you feeling that you don't belong with your people, and it has made it to where I truly don't belong with mine, yet neither of us belong here. You've never given them a reason not to trust you, but most of them don't. I've never given them much reason to trust me, but even if I did, they wouldn't.”

“If they did, would you be able to handle it?” he asked.

“You're all kinds of amusing tonight, Constable,” he said.

“I don't know what to do for you,” Odo said bluntly.

“You're so certain something is necessary?” he asked, tilting his head and offering him one of his blandest smiles.

“More certain with each passing moment,” the changeling said.

“If I knew, I'd tell you.” He dropped the pretense. He didn't have the energy for it, and he wasn't in any mood to play games. “The Starfleeters seem to think if I sit down and tell a stranger about where it hurts, I'll be fine.”

“Hmph,” Odo said, seeming to find that as ridiculous as Garak did. “They really can be blind at times. Can't you talk to the doctor?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“You'll forgive me for saying it, but I don't understand relationships,” Odo said.

Garak laughed, genuinely amused. “I don't either. As it turns out, I'm not very good at them. I was better at being alone.”

“Why not go back to it?” he asked.

“Relationships have a tendency to spoil the joys of solitude. I don't pretend to understand how that works.”

“Why stay with someone you can't even talk to?” Odo persisted. “If he's not willing to be supportive...”

Garak held up a hand. “This isn't his fault. It's entirely mine. I don't want to go into it, but I don't want you thinking ill of the doctor. No, he's very supportive. It's...difficult for me to accept that.”

Odo nodded slowly. “I understand that,” he said. “It's not easy for me to accept help, either. I'm coming to understand that sometimes you have to let them be supportive even when you don't want it. It makes them feel better, and it's not...unpleasant...to know that someone is there for you, whether you actually need it or not.”

“It sounds as though you understand more than you let on,” Garak said, surprised.

“I am observant,” the changeling said with what may have been a humorous undertone.

“You'll get no arguments from me,” he said. “You know, talking to a stranger wouldn't help at all, but speaking with you has. Thank you, Constable.” He inclined his head.

Looking slightly surprised, Odo returned the gesture. He glanced around the stock room and over his shoulder. “You've cleaned this place up nicely. Does that mean you'll be reopening?”

He nodded. “Yes, I will be. You've seen the Bajorans. They need me, now more than ever with that Kai of theirs and her atrocious hats.”

Odo chuckled in a rare display of genuine amusement. “Perhaps one day I'll sample what it feels like actually to wear something.”

“Any time,” Garak said, smiling. “I'm at your disposal.”

“We'll see,” he said. “I should get back to patrol, and you should at least try to get some rest. Things...sometimes look better when you're not tired.”

“Very true,” Garak agreed. “I'll walk you out.”

Julian

The Infirmary

Four days. It had only been four days since he laid down his boundaries, and already he missed the tailor's company at night. For his part, Garak couldn't have been more cooperative and pleasant. It bothered him to think of how much the man was hiding from him for his sake, to honor his request. He couldn't hide away from Garak forever. He had to either make the decision to trust him when he said he'd never hurt him again or decide that he could never trust that and move on. It wasn't fair to either of them to hover at a distance and wait for things to feel perfect.

The flu outbreak was on a natural decline, and activity in the infirmary had dropped back to normal levels. He felt confident that if he left a half hour early for lunch, it wouldn't put undue stress on the staff. He walked down the short distance to Garak's shop only to find him setting up new racks. They looked strangely sculptural with nothing displayed upon them, like a modern gallery exhibit.

“Hello, Doctor,” Garak greeted him amiably. “You're early.”

“I know,” Julian said, closing the distance between them. “I miss you.”

Garak anchored one of the protruding “arms” in the central post of the rack and straightened, eying Julian cautiously. “I miss you, too,” he said. “Are you sure you want...”

He nodded, taking both of his hands in a warm press. “I am. It's probably a form of insanity, but I am.”

“Then I have something to tell you,” the tailor said.

Something about the look in his eyes when he said it stilled Julian outwardly but made his heart start to race. “What is it?” he asked, his turn for caution.

“I love you.”

He inhaled sharply, blinking rapidly. “Just...just like that? No qualifiers, no buts...”

“Just like that,” Garak said.

“Elim,” he said softly, “take me home. Right now.” And he did, just like that.

The End