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Limitless	By : CyreliaJ Category: Star Trek > Deep Space 9 Views: 2154 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek Deep Space Nine of any of its characters. I'm also not making any money off of this.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
Note: I'm really excited because I can picture the next chapter already mapping itself out quite nicely. There's only about 2-3 more chapters to go til the end and then everyone will actually see the one scene this whole crazy thing was written to lead up to as well as see why this gets the rating it had haha. This went through a lot of edits and changes while my beta came at me with a machete a few times. Still, I couldn't have done it without him and I owe him a lot of thanks for helping me hammer this out. I tried to eliminate all the confusing stuff, but still, there may be bits that are. So just note that of the 4 separate sections, the first one chronologically falls between the second and third. Also I had to put the thoughts in '...' for the italicized portions.
I want to give a huge amount of thanks as well to everyone who has read this and supported my efforts towards the finish as long as it's taken to even get this far. Yo've all been wonderful with your encouragement and it really means a lot to me. This chapter here I'm sure is the longest to date but maybe that'll make up for the short interlude I'd posted before. So hopefully things are starting to make more sense, and I was extremely pleased to get some of Julian's back story finally fleshed out beyond vague references. Anyhoo, C&C is always welcome and thanks again!
   “What in bloody hells is he doing here?!” Julian- at least to most of Ops he was still Julian- created a rather dramatic picture stopped in the doorway glaring murderously at Garak. There was a stunned silence which followed for just a moment, Garak the first to find his voice answering with barely concealed amusement.
“Well I was about to return to my shop since I’m finished taking the Captain’s measurements, but if you have a problem, doctor-”
“If I have a problem,” Julian sneered back hardly aware of the eyes watching him from the wardroom, “Now what could I possibly have a problem with, Garak? Maybe you could start by telling me how a lying murderous snake came to pull himself out of his hole so easily.”
   “I’ll be certain to ask Dukat the next time I have an opportunity to speak with him though you may find yourself waiting some time for the answer, seeing as we’re not on the best of terms at the moment.” His voice was mild again, that amusement showing through. Kira laughed softly, and Miles as well did little to hide his own snicker.
“He’s got you there, mate.” Julian’s eyes were angry darkened glass that never left Garak’s face as he spoke through gritted teeth.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about, Garak.” He looked up furiously at Odo who met that tantrum unimpressed. “Is security so lax on this station that we let murderers go free now? Not to speak of everything else that you’re surely aware of now.”
“I don’t think you want to go there, my dear,” Garak supplied helpfully.
“No, doctor, you definitely do not “want to go there’ as Mr. Garak says,” Odo replied darkly, “Unless we’d like to address the matter of wasting personnel and station resources on doctored isolinear rods and impeding a serious missing persons investigation with complete fabrications.”
   Jadzia’s hand went up, covering her mouth either astonished or excited- likely a combination of both bubbling with voyeuristic glee- watching the display on the edge of her seat. Captain Sisko’s face didn’t look even a fraction so amused as he took a step forward, smile glittering with malice.
“Gentlemen,” he interrupted in a tone that dared either of them to answer wrong. “Is there something going on that I should be aware of?” Julian blanched, face an unbecoming pale as he slowly brought his arms behind his back balling knuckles white as he breathed out slowly, his answering nod jerky and stiff, the answering smile on his face a clear exercise in restraint.
“No Captain. Not at all. Just a bit of a difference of opinion between me and Mr. Garak. I apologize, it won’t happen again.”
“Good. See that it doesn’t.” Captain Sisko gave a quick nod to Garak who returned the gesture. “That will be all Mr. Garak.”
   “Of course,” Garak replied easily, slipping back past Julian with a distantly polite smile. Julian followed his retreat, eyes nearly burning a hole in Garak’s back as he took a few slow deep breaths before turning back to the room. He reached up briefly towards his collar then stopped, leaving his hand clenched in front of his chest with a faintly distant perturbed look at the window.
“Doctor Bashir,” Captain Sisko interrupted whatever introspection that he’d chosen to indulge in. “I believe I’d asked the senior staff to meet in the wardroom at 1300.”Julian stiffened his neck, a slight turn to the side, his eyes cast down and off into the distance as if considering a multitude of responses before settling on an awkward shuffle of feet, hands behind his back. There was a careful blankness to that expression, Julian’s eyes not entirely meeting Sisko’s when he looked up.
   “I’m sorry, Captain, there was something I had to attend to that couldn’t wait.”
“I was not made aware of any medical emergencies in the infirmary, doctor.” Julian closed his eyes a moment, attention curiously on him with his distant almost dismissive tone. Only Worf revealed any visible surprise to that defiant stance. Jadzia concealed a small smile while Miles leaned in and whispered something to Kira that Julian did not see.
“It was a personal matter, sir.”
“I see,” Sisko answered as if addressing a rebellious teenager. “And was this personal matter more important than the security and sovereignty of the entire Cardassian Empire?” The question dared him to answer in the affirmative and Julian only looked for a moment as if he might actually take the bait.
   Again the response was slower than it might have been, Julian’s eyes once more evasive.
“No sir…” he trailed off, looking as if he might say something further as he looked at Miles curiously. “You have my word that it won’t happen again.” It was automatic, almost bored as Julian looked from Miles to Kira discreetly. Miles nodded once and a smile crossed Julian’s face almost too quickly to see before it was gone, his voice far more engaged as he met Captain Sisko’s eyes for the first time since his entrance. “I have it under control now,” he said a gravity, a pleading to that tone as if this were not the first time such a conversation had been had. Captain Sisko nodded, looking at Julian concerned briefly.
“Don’t forget what we discussed earlier, doctor.” He put a hand on Julian’s shoulder, a brief touch, just a bare flutter of tension passing through in response. Julian dropped it quickly.
   “Yes, when all this is over, of course I have no objections.” The words were an almost impatient rush held in check by a thread as Captain Sisko left the room followed by Worf. There was an objection raised by Worf, quickly silenced by Captain Sisko with a shake of his head. Julian saw none of it.. Odo was next, lingering just long enough to give Julian a measured look. Any pretense of contrition vanished from Julian’s face as he met that expression with an arrogant smirk, arms crossed.
“I should throw you both in a cell together,” he said gruffly, “but I think you’d enjoy that too much.”
“Maybe I’ll invite you to watch next time,” Julian taunted to his back. There was no answer in response, Jadzia looking slightly concerned as she too went to leave.
“You are okay, aren’t you, J-”His finger to her lips, fast but gentle silenced the near speak of a name; which name it would never be known. He smiled at her, cocksure, stepping back as her expression turned thoughtful and assessing.
“Never better, darling,” he promised, turning around dismissive, as Miles rose at last, a look shared between the two of them.
   Only Kira remained then, looking at him with an unusual grace to her expression.
“Darling Kira,” Julian said grandly, looking down as he spoke. “Were you waiting on me?” He stood a moment longer, lingering in that position before deigning to take a seat.
“You got me,” she said with a shrug, her entire attention focused on him. He turned to her, searching, his fingers slowly, insidiously dancing down her arm, watching her carefully.
“Do I really?” he murmured, still looking for something as she put a hand over his. “I know you’ve been talking to Leeta,” He said, looking at her hand over his. “It still stings… when I think about it…” She ducked her head, meeting his eyes with an uncharacteristic deference.
“I’m sorry, Jules. I guess I just didn’t understand… That was impressive you know... what you did back there.”
“That wasn’t me you know. It was the will of the Prophets.”
“Of course.” Kira smiled at him. “But you’re special, aren’t you?” Julian preened at the compliment, turning her hand over in his, eyes starting to shine with a excited cast.
   “And did my little lark tell you,” he paid no attention to the slight tightening of her grip at that endearment, “just how special I am?”
“She said you were going to be our savior,” Kira agreed. “Imagine that... Doctor Bashir... savior of the Bajoran people.” The words were almost mocking in their effervescence but Julian caught none of it.
“Yes!” Julian’s eyes darted to the closed doors of the wardroom quickly, his voice dropping low. “I brought her back, you know. I showed her…” he trailed off nearly breathless, his body a hum of excitement, both his hands clasping hers. “You see it now, don’t you? You understand now?” She nodded, matching his eagerness like a mirror, almost overly so. “Yes… yes, of course you do, one who sees the miracle, cannot possibly do anything but believe. Oh, but you have no idea… oh you have no idea what I’m going to show you, Kira, my doubtful little darling, everything that the Prophets have shown me.”
   Julian leaned in then, intimately, breathlessly close to her and for a split second she drew back before stopping herself, a determined focus to his ear, to the elaborate silver earring that cuffed, dangled, glinting in the dim light. She swallowed, smile tight a moment before becoming a small beckoning entreaty of her lips.
“I can’t wait. Show me everything, Jules.”

A few days earlier...

   But Before Kira had approached him, Leeta had come first the day before in anger. As he sat in Quark’s talking with Miles she’d approached angrily, delivering a slap just as he turned to look up at her. The first sound that Julian registered following the slap, was the loud chortle of Miles laughing. That sound had cut through even Leeta’s voice at his ear as he held the side of his face.
“How could you?!” Julian looked almost blankly ahead to the surface of the table and he knew that he needed to say something. He knew just as she demanded he answer her that his silence was damning, that it did nothing to exacerbate his guilt- turn everyone’s attention to them further. And yet in spite of that, for all of Leeta’s accusations, her castigations cast like stones to the side of his face following that strike, he heard nothing but that mocking chortle. It didn’t seem that it should be so loud; there was nothing to indicate that anyone else even noticed him. Miles’ body language- that subtle turn of his face, that smirk, that soft mutter of “thought you didn’t make any promises,”- shouldn’t drown out everything else but in that moment it did.
   It reminded him suddenly, vividly, of being back in school sitting behind that darkened gymnasium with the growing number that followed him. They all believed in him; he’d created miracles for them, carefully cultivating that devotion until they would all do absolutely anything for him. And they had. They stole for him, lied for him, delivered to him everything he asked of them. They’d met there that night to listen to him speak- to talk of his grand plans for the school, offering nothing but their undying support for his vision. Except for that most vocal Vulcan that night who’d confronted them there, cutting down everything that Julian had fervently declared until there was only one thing left that he could possibly do. He didn’t want to do it. He hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone but they didn’t understand that he had to show them why they needed to follow him. Bad things happened to those who didn’t listen to him and no matter how much it pained him, Julian didn’t have a choice. He didn’t want to do it now. But now as then he couldn’t risk losing that control. And now he could do so many more things, be far more subtle, careful than he’d been before. Still, even knowing that, Julian hesitated.
   His face stung hot, his hand still held to where she hit him hard. It didn’t soothe, it only seemed to make it hotter. Julian’s entire face was burning hot. He felt flush. He felt too hot and he could see the duck of Mile’s head as Leeta screamed his name because he wasn’t answering her properly. ‘Please don’t make me do this.’ He didn’t dare look up. He was certain they all had to be watching him. He was certain that they were watching that scene as her voice grew loud enough to be painful to his enhanced senses.
“Please,” he whispered, likely too quietly, as he cleared his throat. Julian looked past Miles to those heads turning to him one by one feeling that absolute panic settle in. ‘No. Not here. You absolutely cannot do this to me here, not now, not when everything is so close.’ Julian turned slightly, reached out a hand with another soft desperate whisper as she accused him of that infidelity again, telling him that she wasn’t stupid and that Kira had kindly told her everything. She told him how she’d defended him until she was faced with that undeniable proof of him and Elizabeth in the infirmary. How she saw his back, saw the two of them- ‘Saw me- No! No you didn’t see, you didn’t see anything because Eddington assured me that it was taken care of! Stop talking, they cannot hear that!’
   His head snapped to her as she stepped back with another angry wave of her finger. Even through that anger he could still see her measured control. And for just a moment, he saw superimposed over that red face, that pale, calm countenance telling him in no uncertain terms that he was a fraud, that he was playing them all for fools and that there was no logical reason for any of them to-
“no logical reason for-“ ‘Stop it!’ Julian felt that snap in his head. She didn’t call Jules as she called him a liar deceiving them, and yet he could feel that impulse so strongly that he was unable to control it. It wasn’t Jules that brought the view of the biomachines to the forefront of his attention. It was he, Julian, who read her vitals, who scanned her, who located every single cell that he would need to make use of. It wouldn’t hurt. He was sure that it couldn’t hurt. He just needed her to be quiet. He just needed her to stop talking and he looked at her anxiously, entreating, practically begging her with another, “Please, Leeta,” that went completely unheeded. ‘For God’s sake why won’t you listen to me?! Don’t you understand that I just need you to be quiet?!’
   So Julian squeezed. He let the machines carefully circle and surround her lungs. Her body was full of them after all. From that night that he brought her back from the brink of death, she was the first he’d allowed to receive them. She didn’t know what was going on as she lay in the infirmary, pale, sweating, near death, but he’d gotten her then. He couldn’t sense them, couldn’t be sure it was even successful until Elizabeth had finalized the dataport, but once it was online it came to him brilliantly, right alongside Elizabeth’s fainter spectrum. Hers was radiant, and Julian could sense it now, thrumming in her allowing him to feel every intimate inside piece of her body. And that was when he squeezed, slowly, carefully, not letting her breath back in again. He made sure that the biomachines webbed a careful impenetrable cocoon not allowing her to draw that breath no matter how hard she may try and force it. He hated it. But surely now she had to understand… He could see the moment her eyes locked to his terrified that she understood. ‘But does she believe it to be you, or the Prophets, Julian? No, she believed. For everything that she’d yelled, he still had her. Just like your classmates, right Julian? Even when they forced you to stand there and deny that you were a God, there were still some of them who wouldn’t believe it, who couldn’t believe that they’d been deceived.’
   It horrified him. It made him sick to his stomach as he kept the air from her lungs and watched her drop to her knees clutching her throat. Julian stood quickly, a hand over his mouth almost afraid to speak her name as those mindless biomachines responded to him silent command. He wanted to let her go. He was afraid to let go. So he stood there, watching her with that anguish clear on her face. He watched her struggling to breathe reaching out to him. ‘He would know what to do. He’d have this entire situation under control. He’d have them right under his spell, he’d have them all enraptured. He’d hold her up as an example right now and make some grand speech about the will of the Prophets or some nonsense, and here you are your knees knocking together. It’s pathetic. You can see that, you can see why you created him. You should have stopped the game, you should’ve known that you’re never going to be able to live up to your potential.’ Julian dropped that hand feeling those eyes on him. He saw them looking at him expectantly, as he stared back equally lost.
   “I…” he swallowed again, feeling bile rising in the back of his throat. He could hear the murmurs- his hearing picked up every whisper speaking the name of the Prophets, speaking of the wrath of the First Disciple and he wanted to scream at all of them that it wasn’t him. He wasn’t there to hurt anyone, he was there to help if they would only see it. ‘Is this what you meant, Garak? When you spoke so disdainfully of the superstitious lot of Bajorans who just couldn’t be made to see reason. I thought you were having me on, I thought you were exaggerating or just being provocative for effect but they cannot possibly believe that-‘ He saw one of the Dabo girls fall to her knees and a few more of the Bajorans did as well amidst mutters from the other patrons and Julian knew that it had to stop. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t reveal everything yet, it would still be another week or two before he was ready and-
   “…elp… …me...” Almost too low for any to hear but enough heard around her, another murmur starting and so help him if he wasn’t’ careful security would come rushing in any moment. Julian watched almost helpless himself as Leeta’s fingers clutched inward, clawed, like she was about to tear her own skin off to get her breath back.
“You know I… you… you shouldn’t have…” His own voice died and he nearly ran clear out of there to throw himself into a corner and never come out again. One of the other Dabo girls, Mardah, that was her name, Jake’s friend, came forward a hand on his arm, that look of anxious devotion he hadn’t seen in over a decade meeting him full force.
“Julian… Julian you can help her, right? You know she didn’t mean it. She couldn’t have meant it, the Prophets understand. The Prophets forgive her, don’t they? Please, Julian, Please make it stop.” The tense rush of excitement that he felt at that face terrified him. It was so achingly familiar. It was such a sweet bitter poison that he almost begged her to say it again.
   ‘That’s right Julian, you can save her. You’re going to be a doctor, right. You’re better than them even now. You helped Khara when no one else could. You can make her better. You can make them all better.’
“Julian!” This time it was Miles’ voice harsh, barking, snapping him back to attention. Julian knelt down quickly, carefully, searching her face for that look of accusation, that look of betrayal. He saw fear, he saw that look of fear in the face of death and he saw superimposed that first child that he’d saved. She was a young girl who looked at him like he was magic as the sixteen year old Julian injected her with the cure that he knew would save her from the brink of death. Yes, that’s what he was here for of course. To save, to heal, to do what no one else could. Julian was the only one who could read that accelerated pulse through the machines, that constant feedback of data, who could react, respond. But she didn’t know; she couldn’t know the cause. Only Elizabeth knew that she wasn’t here. No, Leeta believed- she believed in him. He felt her shake as he carefully picked her up and placed a soothing kiss to her forehead.
“Of course… Of course I can save you,” he promised in a rush, still not releasing that hold, waiting until her heart beat slowed and he could feel her slip to unconsciousness. “Of course I’ve got you.” ‘Yes, you’re the doctor, Julian. That’s you, the one that everyone loves, the one they all look to when there aren’t any other answers. They love you. As long as you win, as long as you save, as long as you keep up the miracles.’
   Julian released the machines in an instant with an improvised touch of his hand to her chest. He watched the hush from the crowd as she drew that first gasping, slumbering breath. It was easy to ignore Miles’ glare when the world watched him and loved him. When he watched a few kneel down, even more salute in thanks. He could even see some of the other patrons look at him uncertainly, confused as he straightened up, eyes shining.
“Thank you… thank you all for your faith,” he rushed out looking at them all smiling, feeling elated, exultant. “She’ll be alright now. I just need to make sure. But she’s fine. Everyone I… I couldn’t do it without your support but if you’ll please.. excuse me…” He nearly skipped, feeling that euphoric hysteria strangely intrude to the back of his throat as they parted a way for him. Julian beamed. He was certain that he glowed. He didn’t allow himself to strain, or show any of that too human weakness that he normally did, feeding that ego, feeding that desire to prove himself worthy.
   Julian practically flew to the Infirmary, leaving them in awe, surely knowing that this was the price from above for daring to question him. ‘For questioning you, Julian? No, You’re starting to sound like him. You’re starting to lose control of yourself. You know that’s not what it’s about. It’s about showing them that they can believe in you, that they don’t need to second guess you just because you know what you’re doing. This was just… this had to be done. He shook his head as he laid her on the table to be sure of her vital signs. But it’s okay even if there’s damage, That can be repaired after all, remember. You can fix it now. It won’t be like it was before. It can’t get out of your hands the way that the bacterial cultures did. You’re not dealing with fickle eukaryotes, you’re dealing with nanomachines that are a slave to their programming. You’re in complete control this time. You’ve worked hard, you’ve improved, you don’t make mistakes anymore.’ Still, he was relieved when he could see through the scans, in addition to his own internal sweeps that she was merely unconscious and could be brought back any moment. Julian carefully looked around. He didn’t see Nurse Tagana and he’d made sure to ask for privacy from Nurse Hortak. They were alright. They were with him anyway. He wasn’t sure about Jabara, but she’d said nothing to him, and he was sure to be careful around her.
   Julian ran a trembling hand down the side of Leeta’s sleeping face breathing out slowly.
“You really scared me, you know that. You have no idea… you don’t know… you don’t know what you almost did, what you almost ruined. Of course I know it wasn’t your fault of course. You’ve been wonderful, you’ve been better than I could ask for. Even as poorly as I’ve treated you throughout this whole mess you’ve been so kind to me. You’ve helped me more than you know. No, I know it wasn’t your fault. I can only imagine what major Kira was saying. But I don’t blame her. They say we’re shaped by our experience and with what she’s been through it’s to be expected… that suspicion, that inability to trust. But she’s such a strong person you know, such a natural leader, it’s a shame that I can’t reach her the way I have you. But that might be for the best.
   “You don’t know what happened when things got out of control before. When too many people stopped listening to me, stopped following me, and started listening to some… some damn Vulcan, some machine who couldn’t understand what I was trying to do. And none of them understood that I worked hard. I worked. Hard. So that they would listen, believe in me. They didn’t understand all those things I didn’t want to do… that I didn’t want to hurt them… Do you have any idea what it’s like to look at the world, to look at the universe and see nothing but suffering? To see everything that you know you have the power to fix if everyone would just listen. I’ve seen it end so many times, in so many horrific ways in my dreams. That’s what no one else sees. They don’t see that what I do is for the best.” He laughed nervously. “I’m the best. That’s what I’m here for and if I’m not… then…” Julian stopped and dropped his hand.
   “I can’t lose this.” He frowned, breathing in deeply, the last great gospel passing through his head, a million symphonies, the hum of every linked machine in his head as he let himself feel it. “That right. I’m the machine, the prophet, the one that was created to be better… to change the world.” And he could feel a memory licking at him, another piece of that puzzle dreamscape peering out at him from the depths as he grabbed onto it, bringing it to the surface. “Yes… yes, I don’t know how I’d forgotten that.” He saw it perfectly, vividly, and he knew as he breathed that he could command her just as he could Garak. God he had been busy. It almost frightened him what else might surface, what else he might find that he’d done in the absence of his own awareness. “But will it work on the unconscious mind? Yes, yes, it will work and likely better, I think.” He licked his lips, stepping back then forward again, hands back around his neck kneading, pressing into that dataport nearly giving him vertigo. He blinked it away, feeling his forehead and neck damp with sweat as he looked at her still laying there in that deep sleep. “I don’t want to do this. You understand, God I hope you understand that I don’t enjoy this… I… I’ve never enjoyed this, he might, that sick twisted…” Julian stopped, head bowed, a strangled sound wrenched from his throat.
   “I don’t… God why couldn’t you just understand. You’re not a stupid woman why can’t you see that I just need to be left alone to work?! That I need to do what I was created for?! It’s the same as your damn bloody Prophets and if this body, if this body has desires and needs and wants why can’t you just let me have it?! Why can’t any of you just let me alone already?!” He jerked his head up violently, watching her stir, seeing a furrow in your brow, likely in reaction to that raised voice and he looked carefully around before dropping his voice again. “Sometimes… sometimes I just have these urges… just… just here and there and I’m not… I’m not a monster, I’m not the Lethean, I’m not some Cardassian oppressor wanting to enslave the whole bloody Bajoran people I just…” He hit his hand on the table where she lay. “I don’t have time… I don’t have time for this. There’s just not enough time. I’m sorry. I’m sorry but I…”
   Julian lowered his voice even quieter, carefully, making sure that nothing so far has seemed like anything more than an examination. ‘Ah, but they’ll hear you anyway if Eddington fails. I have no idea how Kira saw any of that. I know the cameras were secured. I know if she’d heard those words then… God I don’t know anything anymore. I need to stop this. I need Kira. I need her on my side and not against me And I need you obedient, unquestioning I’m sorry. I can’t afford any more mistakes and I’ll need you to obey me from here on out no matter what I tell you without hesitation. You’ve no idea how sorry I am but....’
“ I am the key.” He watched her intently, waiting, until he saw her lips move. He almost half expected her to sit straight up like some phantasm from an old horror story, but in fact the return was passed from her lips so whisper soft, he was sure that only he could hear it.
   “I am the lock.”

            Jules looks out over the gathered crowd seated front of him, the emergency lights only giving the faintest illumination making him feel as if he’s staring out at a sea of stars in the galaxy. The cargo bay is dark, but he’s coordinated the security rounds, and he knows that he’s covered for now. Eddington will have seen to it; just as he had seen to confirming that Jules was back at the agreed upon time. Jules takes another step before stopping, hands clasped in front of him head bowed in silence, feeling them watching him. He times it, allowing the silence to stretch on, feeling the twitch at the corner of his mouth as the calendar counts down to the final date approaching. Elizabeth had given him word that it will only be a matter of days before the ships will arrive. We’re so close now, Jules. Just a little while longer and there you’ll be, God of the new world, destined to reign over the universe itself. The game won, the prize claimed, and all without anything to hold you back. And it all starts here. This covenant, this test of your power is where the end game begins.
            He squares his shoulders feeling a rush of elation as he raises his head, the rustle of loose clothing comfortable yet still unfamiliar against his skin. He reminds himself that he’ll have to get used to it for now. Baby steps, Jules. One thing at a time. Start small, a drawn in hem here, a little less give, a few dots around the eyes, the mouth, and you’ll be your old self again in every way that matters. The more they can accept, the further you can push them, and soon enough the name “Julian” will be expunged from history itself never again to darken what you’ve created. You need to be patient now. You learned your lesson, buried away in the darkness all these years that you cannot rush, cannot push past what they can handle. That was your mistake then, but it won’t be now. Jules looks at Leeta for reassurance; she stares at him so rapt, so enamored, it’s enough to nearly make him hard right there. He wants her. He wants that kneeling supplication, that fanatical devotion. Jules smiles, directing that benevolent radiance only towards her. Watching that smile widen almost manically. Yes, you’re nice and obedient now, aren’t you? I thought that I’d need to use those little commands sooner but you’ve exceeded my expectations so beautifully. It’s a pity I had to use them at all but I’m not going to make the same mistakes that I did before.
            He can still feel the sting of that slap infuriating him, but it was nothing but a brief moment of defiance neatly dealt with. That was all you, Kira. Julian’s eyes glance to Major Kira kneeling quietly by Leeta’s side. She seems to be taking pains not to look at him directly and that pleases him. You see what happens when you cross me? Now who stands, and who kneels before me? Yes, you tried to fill her head with that disloyalty, with those blasphemous thoughts, but you underestimated me, Kira, just as I had you. I didn’t realize that you were watching me. I thought I only had to worry about Odo but no. There you were as well, weren’t you? But you had no idea the power that I hold over her. I have all the power that I need to hold those that follow me in line. I have more control over her than you'd ever know. Did you really think I was foolish enough to rely solely on the mind? On the fickle heart? I’m not a foolish child any more. I know better than that. Jules smiles down at her, with a nod, so gracious, so kind. Yes, you and I had such a lovely little chat didn’t we? You didn’t realize that I had the Prophets on my side. You didn’t see my vision but now that you’ve spoken to Leeta, now that you really listened to that rapturous vision of our world, you realized just how pathetically wrong you were.
          Yes, my darling Kira, I’m the only fucking God in the Universe now. I’m the one blessed by the Prophets. And you’ll see that soon enough. I’m back in the world, and there’s nothing that will stop me, not Garak, not Odo, and certainly not you. Jules almost expects an interruption to that triumphant moment- some shout from Kira, some finger pointing damnation cast to his plan but there’s nothing. Of course there’s nothing. You have her now. You have her apologies, you have her spilling out all of those secrets of how afraid she was to believe in you. You had her eating out of your hand, ready and willing to do anything you please. And that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be. You’re not that same foolish boy and she isn’t some tactless Vulcan interloper. She’s yours. And after tonight, you can be certain of it. And true enough, Kira is silent when he steps forward again. Jules pulls the best damn Julian Bashir that he can for the lot of them gathered there tonight. He’s played that part enough now that it’s almost a seamless transition.
Jules redirects that smile to the crowd, humble, head ducked and he remembers so vividly his classmates watching him years ago with that same aura of reverence. He remembers how he would speak to them in that darkened gym. They would hear him, they would obey him, beg him to tell them all the secrets of the universe that he knew. He remembers how they would hang on his every word, how they were so in awe of his gifts, of his seeming power over life and death that he could have any one of them do whatever he asked. And now as then, Jules, let’s show them what we’ve got. Are you watching now, Garak? Are you sitting there huddled in that darkened security office with Odo looking at me? Jules knows that he’s not, of course. He knows that it’s Eddington’s turn at the bat as Captain Sisko would say, and Eddington assured him that it’s under control. The footage Leeta had seen was from the switch of shifts- past the time that Eddington had warned him about and he’d cursed his carelessness for allowing him to almost compromise the both of them when he’d given in to that impulse to take her a second time bent over the console. He chambers that memory for later, however, instead letting himself savor this moment so close to his final hour of triumph.
            “Living is a truly frightening thing,” he begins softly, the echo of his voice powerful in the quiet of the night. “Of course, it’s simple to wake up, to breathe, to head to the replimat for a raktajino… at least I know I don’t feel awake til then.” Another smile, a soft titter of laughter brushes by like a breeze. Jules lets it cover him, lets that tone ease the room into a warm comfort. He is certain that a lot of them are afraid now of incurring the wrath of the Prophets should they cross him. The story of the incident in Quark’s spread like wildfire, and he even sees one or two new faces in the crowd that he faces. You have no idea how right you are to fear me. And soon, it won’t just be Liz and Leeta, but the lot of you as well that will be completely at the mercy of my benevolence. Ah. But tonight my devoted followers, tonight I only want your love, your worship, your complete faith in me. “We complete these actions without thought, without consciousness for our condition. And of course, we need these rituals that make our lives seem so comfortable, so ordinary.” He picks up his voice, knowing the exact decibel level that he can reach, keeping it to about half so far.
            “But to be alive, to exist in the world is also to fear death. It is to fear dying.” He takes a deep breath knowing that the death of Vedek Bariel still lingers for so many of them, that the loss of Kai Opaca is still so deep that there’s an almost palpable tremor in the room. Jules picks an insignificant point of the wall to stare at as he calls on that emotion, every memory as the doctor, as Julian, making that lump in his throat almost believable to even himself. “As a doctor I knew that better than anyone. There were so many after all, that I couldn’t save.” He makes sure to fidget uncomfortably at that for a moment, fingers tracing around his collar, a careful count until he sees the somber turn. Jules waits just another count of five, seeing the reflective expressions looking down towards the floor and not at him. “As long as we live we are afraid to die...” He notices as Kira tenses, hands on her knees shaking just a bit, but even then she says nothing. Check and mate my hateful little harpy. Jules internalizes the amused snort as he drops his voice, knowing that there will be a strain to hear. But he also knows at the same time that the effect will be that hallowed silence even to silent breaths. “I am afraid to die,” Jules confesses. He takes a few more calculated steps, showing his back, letting those words sink in. He listens carefully, a few murmurs of disbelief reaching his ears. Jules revels in them.
            “But the Prophets have shown me in their mercy and wisdom that I need not fear, that I should not be afraid. They have shown me that all I need to do is listen. All I need to do is open my mind, to let my spirit be surrounded by their light, by their guidance, and to see every bounty, every gift that they are waiting to bestow upon me. But it wasn’t easy.” Jules draws a breath, fist tight to his heart as he affects that introspection to the ground, to some large container closest to the back of the crowd. “I didn’t want to listen, you know. Like the Emissary, I was reluctant. I was confused. What could this strange presence, these… “wormhole aliens” want with me? But they didn’t stop. The Prophets did not allow my skepticism, my disbelief, my pride to keep me from them! And what they have shown me brothers and sisters, is a blessing! A boon, a future far greater than anything I could have conceived on my own as just a mere mortal man!” Jules takes another pause, a swallow, a shake to his body, a tremor of excitement, as he basks in that attention. He soaks in those whispers of his status as the First Disciple, that reverent awe that trembles through all of them. You really missed a golden opportunity Captain, but where you are nothing but a mortal man I… I am wise enough, developed enough to seize it.
   “I, like the Emissary have given myself to them in body, spirit, every part of my being and they have in turn shown me, as they did him, an incredible vision! But my part is not with the Federation, nor is ours my brothers and sisters. Ours is for such a glorious purpose as has never before been witnessed and I, like you, give thanks to the Emissary and The Prophets that we were the ones chosen!” Jules has his voices raised, that flash of memory once more overlaid with the present Yes, here we come, Jules, full circle, only now you have everything that you need. He licks his lips, arms raised, walking through the kneeling crowd as nearly making him bite his lip with the ecstasy of it all. “It has been said that one day all things, all creatures great and small will die! Empires fall, monuments, cities crumble to dust, but I am here to tell you today that shall not be our fate! Our destiny is to live! Not just to live, but to serve the will of the Prophets!”
   Jules allows that to resonate, the young, the idealistic, those who follow have read the message already as he passed it along, the rods degrading from a few uses, but the words spread, the wonder, the excitement that they who had grown up in the shadow of the Cardassian Occupation were destined to such greatness in the galaxy. You once told me, Father, that one needs to know the crowd to which they speak to study, to understand, to know what it is that they desire and that’s what you need to speak to. I’ve always believed you to be the greatest fraud in the Universe but perhaps your capabilities were merely too limited for your vision. But I have a vision, Father, and thanks to your ego, your eternal disappointment, your disgust with your stupid and unworthy son, I’m about to be far greater than you could ever imagine. You wanted me brilliant, you wanted me better well here I am, the bloody best, brightest, and I’m going to show you as I failed to do then, everything that I’m capable of.
   Jules walks back to the front slow, letting that seething resentment slip back into the shadows, passing by Kira with a subtle look down. He catches her eyes right in that moment, her brow crease faintly as she looks at him searching, fast enough that he almost thinks he imagines it. But then she turns way, eyes down once more and he takes another step forward. Jules swears that her lips moved, but he heard no sound even with his hearing. He blinks, considering his next words, but then he does hear it spoken. No, no, you didn’t! There’s not way that you could have- But it doesn’t matter, that fury rushed away like the tide. That moment he hears it, that name, “Julian”, carried past him like a breath of space flitting through the massive cargo containers around them. He blinks, the room fading in and out for a moment and it comes to him in a rush, slamming into his now present self the memories, the actions melding back to homeostasis, and with two more steps forward his mind works hyper fast to process, to digest. She was testing you. She knows! It has to be a trap! But he knows that he needs to finish.
   Julian, now Julian stops, his back to the crowd where they cannot see the slow blink or the nervous breath that he draws as he starts speaking anew. He tugs at his collar anxiously. It doesn’t matter what she knows. If this is part of a plan, part of a grater plan then now you know. You can fix this. You can’t fail now. Do it, Julian, God you can do this!
“You know... they tell us... they tell us to embrace our impairments. They tell us that we were made this way... that this is as far as we can go. They told me that once... a boy who couldn’t tell a dog from a cat... who couldn’t swim... who couldn’t... who couldn’t do a lot of things. Some would say he wasn’t meant to do a lot of things. They say... that is we have a saying, an old saying and they say that ignorance is bliss. That those who never know, who don’t know enough to suffer, to agonize, to contemplate all those things that keep us awake at night, are the ones who are truly blessed...” I was happy once... but I was a fool... and a fool... a mistake... cannot possibly happy... does not deserve to be happy. “But who can they save?” he almost whispers, looking up at the high ceiling drawing a shaky breath as he remembers, not just those who’d once followed him, but the disaster that followed, that led to his expulsion, that nearly meant the end of his entire life.
   “I couldn’t save anyone,” Julian says as he turns around quickly. Kira is looking at him once more, only this time without that searching look but with slightly widened eyes seeing his face. Dear God you know... But why? Why would Garak tell you what I?... No, no, he couldn’t possibly have told you everything. Not Garak, not the liar, not the sphinx himself. He’d have told half a dozen riddles, half truths mired in theatric but then what are you looking for? What... what do you think I am, Kira? Did he tell you that I’m some sort of monster? Did he tell you I was sick? Mad? Why are you looking at me like that?! But whatever that expression was that he thought he’d seen on her face, that flicker of surprise, followed by some sympathy blurring to anger is gone. She looks at the floor again and he swallows hard, continuing.
   “Back then I couldn’t save anyone... not even myself. But that’s changed.” Julian looks at every one of them now seeing they’re hopeful, so eager to believe whatever he tells them. He can’t afford to worry about Kira now. He swallows down bile in the back of his throat knowing that for just these few little lies there is a much greater purpose to be had. “Because now I’m better. Now I understand my purpose, my potential.” My purpose is to be the best. My purpose is to rise above, to conquer, to triumph over death, over disease, over humanity itself. And if i can’t do that then there’s no reason for any of this. Then there’s no reason for my existence at all. None of you will ever understand that. It’s like Garak says of simple Bajorans, the intricacies of this miserable wretched existence that such provincial people are blessed to never have to face... If you’re going to cling to the damn wormhole aliens as Gods, the ones who didn’t do a damn thing to save you the suffering of the Occupation while you bled and died for them, then you might as well follow me. “And with you behind me, I’ll save everyone.”
   Julian searches his splintered memory, knowing when he does that Leeta will rise on his signal, knowing that she will come to him, that she will show them all. He looks at her, that connection between that shared pool of thought sparking that key, that command that Jules had set, and he smiles, just that certain smile for her that Jules had so perfected. It almost makes his jaw hurt but he holds it fast as she rises, and he reaches a hand out to her.
“You saved me,” she says with a radiant smile that almost breaks him. I didn’t save you, you poor wretched woman, I almost killed you. You have no idea how close I came... how terrified I was that it wouldn’t work. “The nurses saw me die on that table.” Because I killed you. Because once again that carefully cultivated bacteria didn’t react the way it was supposed to, because I made a mistake when considering Bajoran immunology and where I was merely ill you were-
   “But you brought me back.” He takes her hand, knowing that he’s well past the point of turning back, squeezing tightly- almost too tightly- but she bears it without so much as a flinch. It terrifies him to think that he could squeeze it until it broke and she might never make a sound because of the hold he’s forced upon her. Because I love you. That’s what I’m supposed to say. Because I love all of you, because I’ve been blessed, because I’ve been shown because I’m going to... Julian eases the grip, eyes flickering away from her almost afraid to look at Kira. Why are you here still going along with this farce, Major? You don’t belong here. You don’t belong on your knees drinking this poison like it’s gospel. No, not just Kira, but Leeta, but all of them. None of them deserve this. Julian looks at the ground. Deserve what, Julian? You’re only fixing what’s broken. You’re only finishing what’s imperfect. And with this you’ll be able to give them Phoenix and they’ll be able to stand as much of it as they want as long as they obey you.
   “That’s because I...” He hesitates as he releases his grip, taking the small dagger from his pocket, pressing the blade to his palm. He can’t say it. I don’t love you. I’m going to destroy you. “I’m going to save everyone.” He repeats, praying that he can rally that fervor within himself. And with that, we can bear future generations with those abilities, even with the nanites assimilated from birth, a new race who will control the future of the entire universe. “I’m going to save the world, the quadrant, the universe... I’m going to save everyone!” Julian almost believes it as he comes close to breaking that mental limit he set on his volume. The blade bites into his hand and the thick, dark blood begins to pool. “If you will join me... Then it shall not be for us to wait on heaven, for paradise, but to bring the kingdom of the Prophets here.” He holds out the hand, and then the blade, hilt first, looking at all of them. And it all starts with just this one pithy sacrifice. “
   Who here will be the first to join me?” Julian doesn’t see Kira look down and say a brief prayer, a flicker of doubt to the floor in front of her before she stands, going to him with a grim determination. No, no, you cannot possibly want this knowing what it means for you. But her eyes meet his with a perfect enraptured smile, and he wonders if she doesn’t in fact believe after all. No. No, she’ll never actually-
   “I will.”

   “Elim Garak needs to die.” Those were the words that he had spoken to his two most fervent followers: to Leeta and Elizabeth as he prepared to depart. They haunt him as walks through the all but deserted Promenade anxiously fingering the collar of his uniform. “No matter what I may say to you later. No matter what I threaten, beg, plead...” What frightens him the most is knowing they’ll obey. With one inoculation, one injection, he’d delivered that drug to reinforce the commands to them both. As desperately as he wanted to believe, as much as he wanted to trust them, he knew that he couldn’t take that risk. No, he didn’t. But Jules did. Jules was sure to dose them with that serum, play those lovely tunes as they made love. He knew as those bitter memories came to him, when those children following him turned one after another that he couldn’t rely on devotion alone to persuade anyone to commit such an unthinkable act. An act you should have done yourself. This isn’t a game, Julian. This is the fate of the Universe and you can’t take the chance that one damn spy that you can’t get out of your head will ruin it. You’re a coward. You’re too weak.
   And tonight, he also cannot sleep. Julian only has a few hours before he needs to board the Defiant. His pleas to remain on station falling on deaf ears and he begins to suspect that somehow Captain Sisko must know... But that’s not possible. The man isn’t stupid, of course, but surely had Odo told him everything... if he knew what they must suspect there’s no way that they would ever... He pauses, that thought trailing off coldly. Or perhaps that’s why he’s insistent that you come along. He doesn’t trust you here alone, not with most of the senior staff gone. Remember the last time, remember the Legate. They were all suspicious even when you put all your ducks in a row... when it was clear that the chaos stemmed from Garak and not you... They didn’t believe you. You know they didn’t. But if Captain Sisko knows then why hasn’t this progressed any farther?
   Julian takes a few more thoughtful steps as he approaches the large window out into space. Assume the worst case scenario, Julian. Assume then that all of them know... those who aren’t part of your inner circle. Or perhaps even them. It may be that you can’t trust anyone that you don’t know for a fact is under your control. He laughs softly, bitterly, hands pressed to the cool clear surface.
“And who does that leave, Julian? Leeta and Elizabeth. And it’s not even you who have their loyalty but him.” Him Jules; The dark stooped over power mad Hyde to his Jekyll. Except that he is not the twisted and gnarled sadistic troglodyte but the charismatic, brilliant, unbound augment to whom everyone gravitates, who they all obey with or without the damn serum. Julian finds his nails scraping the surface with a faint screech that makes his ears hurt, hand balling to a fist with a small stunted bang.
   But you know it isn’t that simple Julian. If it were that simple... if you were the pure and noble good doctor that you pretend this would all be over. You’d have already turned yourself in, repented, begged a thousand pardons, mercies, begged them to do whatever it took to pull him out of you. But it isn’t over. Julian drops his hand staring hard into the surface as if it might mirror his reflection but it doesn’t. He sees nothing but the outer rings of Deep Space Nine and endless space beyond as the cold truth washes over him. If two children are fighting over a toy, it’s best to take it away from both of them. It’s best to get rid of the object that’s causing all the conflict in the world. Yes, imagine an end to all wars, chaos, pain, suffering with the sacrifice of just one small life. No, it wasn’t Jules who called for Garak to die. That part of him could never bear to part with something he believed intractably that he ought to have. It was Julian. Once again, that monster was all him.
“You challenge me. You fascinate me.” Julian’s voice is barely above a whisper as he speaks to the silence. “You’ve no idea how awful a thing that is.”
   “I’ve certainly heard much worse, my dear.” That voice, sudden, out of that stillness, nearly makes him visibly jump. He doesn’t know how it was that his enhanced senses failed to perceive Garak standing there behind him, but Julian turns to the right and finds that Garak is there, looking not at him but out at those same boundless stars. Impulsively, Julian considers a warning, a desperate pitiable clutch of Garak’s shoulders begging him take care; that as surely as he breathes, he will not live to see Julian’s return. He fidgets with the cuff of his uniform but says nothing. The banal question of how long Garak has been standing there comes to mind but he lets it fall away. There are so many things that he wants to say rushing through his head so quickly that it’s almost overwhelming.
   “I’m sure you have,” Julian says with a small twitch at the corner of his mouth. Will you really die? he wonders feeling the warmth of Garak’s arm almost parallel to his own. Is this really the last time that I’ll see you? It’s a sobering thought, and Julian feels an anxiety that’s almost palpable. He almost thinks he hears a scream inside his head not to dare touch Garak. He shoves it back down into the darkness. And suppose they succeed. Then what? Then this will all have been for nothing, won’t it? No... then this will be over. He’ll be out of your head and that’s what you need to be able to pull this back. You’re still so damn desperate for him to accept you, to acknowledge you, to just look at you. You have a greater destiny, you have a purpose beyond this game that you need to fulfill. Julian doesn’t dare turn to look at Garak, instead fixated even harder on the stars outside. He shouldn’t be here. He should leave. He’s going to leave now. But Julian stays where he stands, already calculating how much time they’ll have alone.
   “You seem troubled,” Garak offers and Julian’s head whirls comically to the side, hair whipping with that motion. He pushes it back and away from his face nearly cursing, knowing that he needs to be careful not to expose the dataport where anyone else might see. Julian rearranges himself with a duck of his head. He doesn’t know if Garak is mocking him or if the question is asked in earnest as he meets those eyes; beautiful blue eyes that seem to shift like two seas in which he could drown. Julian swallows, eyes dartng to every point of Garak’s face, over ridges, over smooth gray skin, mapping in his mind’s eye once more a memory to call forth for an eternity should he need it. Julian opens his mouth, seeing how warm, how concerned that look appears. God help me I don’t want you to die. But Julian knows that whatever the mask holds it is nothing but a mask that looks at him, or rather through him as if he were searching for the one he really wants. Some irrational part of him almost thinks that he’d give it all up now just to be able to stare like this, openly, unashamed, for the rest of his life. And that’s exactly why you have to die.
   Julian, maudlin, looks past him as far as he can see to reassure himself that they are alone. He allows himself to hear, and there is nothing but the whir of the station faint, far more faint than the two of them breathing softly.
“What would you have me say if this were the last time I were seeing you, Garak?” Julian asks suddenly, almost stupidly but nonetheless nearly holding his breath for the answer. He watches that mask Garak wears cracking to a shrewd analysis faster than he’s sure most humans could perceive. His new face is amusement, burnished like a brilliant iron shield.
“Well, my dear, I’d heard tell that in times of war but more often not a man being shipped off as cannon fodder but also more often not, would deliver a similar line to a lovely lady in the hopes of some spectacular merciful coitus. But I’d never imagined you to stoop to such a ruse. It’s really beneath your dignity, Julian.” A silent laugh, amusement, some secret that he thinks only he knows, and Julian blinks at him. He knows that it’s irrational to expect Garak to be privy to the sanctity of these last few precious moments for them, but he still feels disappointed that Garak didn’t meet that query more dramatically.
   He barely hides a frown.
“I’m being serious.”
“Yes, I can definitely tell,” Garak agrees with a turn towards the outside. “But if I may let you in on a little... trade secret, I’ve found it a far more pleasurable experience to be glib in the face of adversity than to be stoic when the situation calls for levity.”
“Why not simply express the appropriate emotion for the situation?” Julian asks irritated that this isn’t going how he envisioned it.
“What an absolutely disgusting thing to suggest.”
“Why are you here, Garak?” Julian asks at last, not caring how stupid a question it is, as that illusion of a final beautiful send off deflates.
“I suppose that would depend on whether you’re asking my mother or father. Of course, there are some who might say that Cardassians are not born but hatched by dark design from some demon’s abyss. But you know as well as I, my dear Julian, that Bajorans will believe absolutely anything.” There’s a faint dancing sparkle, a cutting to Garak’s sideways look that has Julian reach out, nearly lose himself in the flow of data that rushes in, from the presence of every processing biomachine that he can feel in those who follow him.
   He almost loses himself in that stream. He’s not sure if he’s closed his eyes or if it was only his mind that blanked his vision so that he could read every signature that he needed to see. And imagine if I could feel you, if I could touch you the same way, Garak. I wonder what your heartbeat might sound like. I wonder how it would feel to have your life pulsing for me to feel the way it does with them. But of course he cannot. Julian looks down to the small space between them and catches himself before he reaches a hand out. He might as well be on the other side of the galaxy for all the distance between them. Julian considers if there truly are any words, any actions that would break that space, truly pull down that cover and let Julian see him. Surely, there must be some special entreaty that would break down those walls and give him that satisfaction. He’s wondered that for years; if there was some banter, some open sesame to unvault those secrets. Is that something that you’ve shown to him? I don’t know why I can’t seem to see all his memories nor he mine even as surely we’re aware they exist but...
   Julian feels an irrational jealousy that there might be some face of Garak known only when he’s Jules. You lack his courage, his mettle, his daring. Julian impulsively seizes Garak’s hand, his right, Garak’s left, seeing Garak look down at that grasp, hand limp. He doesn’t pull back. In fact he doesn’t say a word, as if waiting for Julian to act. Fearing that some moment might be lost if he hesitates any longer, Julian finds his voice.
“If... in that moment of death you knew with absolute certainty you could reach out a hand... and be saved... and be forever as you are... what would you offer the God of the Underworld in return?” Julian sees that smile snapped to place like the icons in a perfect grid, nothing out of place as Garak decides to squeeze back.
“You are so very like him, Julian, if only you’d let yourself embrace it. You know I could have closed my eyes and thought it was him standing here.” Julian draws his hand back quickly, angrily.
   He takes a step back, looking at the ground.
“Then why don’t you call him here, Garak, we both know you can do it.” Julian holds his hand to his chest massaging it sorely is if that wound were to more than simply his ego. Garak makes a study of that hand speaking quietly.
“Because it is you, Julian, that I came to see off.”
“The Defiant isn’t leaving for another few hours yet.”
“Perhaps I wanted to leave you with my final instructions should I not make it. If you recall there’s still the matter of the false panel on the bulkhead near the replicator...”
“Am I ever going to get a straight answer out of you?”
“If you ask the right question.”
“Then...” Julian looks from the ground up into Garak’s eyes hesitantly. “What would you say, Garak, if I promised you eternity? Immortality?” He still feels as if he isn’t asking the right questions.
“I might wonder why you seem so convinced of my impending demise,” Garak answers pointedly, that mischief never leaving his eyes.
   Julian’s mouth is shut tight, an uneasy flicker of his eyes to the side, out to see still if anyone approaches. But they are still alone.
“Because everything dies,” He says offering his own evasive explanation for a change. “Because just as we breathe, we eventually break.” Garak steps just a touch back into his space, close, warm, a breath that Julian commits to memory fervently.
“Are you going to break me, Julian?” A flicker of tongue tasting air, tasting his breaths out, Julian’s lungs nearly burning as he almost forgets to breathe. “You know, it just now occurs to me now, that we haven’t discussed the most important part of the game yet.” Garak holds Julian’s eyes, leaning in, another step, a hand on his shoulder. Fingertips trail up his neck, making him shiver, making him tilt his head so that Garak might lean in and whisper softly, darkly. “There’s the small matter of your prize, should you win.”
   “You sound like you’ve already made that decision.”
“Not a decision, but a suggestion rather.”
“I’m listening.”
“If you win... then you may have me... on my knees, bound, broken, willing.”
“What makes you think... that’s what I want?” Julian’s breaths are tight, strangled as the warmth of Garak’s body bleeds into his.
“The way that you breathe heavier, the hitch in your tone, that flicker of excitement when I...” Garak flicks his tongue just a tap to Julian’s ear that makes a small whimper claw from his throat. You’re pathetic, Julian. You give in to him so easily.
“Please... don’t do this to me.”
“I can’t make you do anything, nothing that you don’t want to do.”
“You’ve no idea how badly... how long that I...”
“That you...”
“That I’ve wanted you to...” Julian closes his eyes, Garak moving around his body slowly, serpentine, until he can feel him at his back still speaking whisper soft. Julian is terribly aware of how it might appear were anyone to come by but he stays.
   “Such a curious thing to say my dear when you were so stubbornly insistent that night that you and I-”
“We did!” Julian says
"Then tell me." The words catch him off guard. Julian swallows reflexively, his mouth suddenly dry. He knows he's heard correctly, but even so, that command makes him pause as a million images rush to the forefront of his mind, a scattered recollection in such counter to his usual easy index that he almost can't quite grasp it.
"You already know-"
"Do I?"
"Stop playing games with me, Garak."
"Are you surrendering then? Do you forfeit? Do you turn and slink back into the darkness, behind that mask, behind all of that weakness, sniveling sanctimonious doctor? Is that what you want, doctor? To stop? To go back, to reverse the sands to some innocent time no, my dear, I'm afraid that we're far too late for that for that but perhaps if you were to-"
   "Your room." Julian interrupts that damning whisper, hand to the cold surface, falling squeaking down, his palm sweaty. "I'm in your room, you know that. You always keep your room so bloody hot I can't... I can't breathe. I feel like I'm suffocating and I almost think you do that on purpose."
"I made you... hot on purpose?"
"The room... the temperature... you know what I'm talking about."
"If you can't take the heat, Julian-"
"I can take any damn thing you give me, any damn twist of your words-"
"Then maybe you shouldn't be playing this game."
"Stop it, stop..."
"What am I doing?" The whispers rush back and forth between them until it’s enough to fog the glass in front of Julian’s face. It brings back a memory once more of Garak’s room as he struggles to remember what had seemed so vivid when he was alone in his own bed taking himself in hand to a hard, violent completion.
   "Nothing! Everything... I can't..." Julian wipes that condensation away and stares at their faces reflected pale on the surface. The photons are scattered to project that pitiful shade in a partial blur and yet he swears that he can see Garak looking him dead in the eyes, looking right through him.
"I can't think with you right on top of me like this."
"Was I on top of you that night, Julian?" Was he...? Yes... no... I don't... Julian closes his eyes, inhaling Garak's scent, remembering that closeness, dreaming it behind those shuttered eyes. He recalls, with such vivid recollection, the feeling of that tongue trilling to the shell of his ear that he could almost believe it were happening now. But it’s not. He forces himself to the present, finding it harder to hold himself there. Julian can feel Garak's warm breath but that's where that oral contact ceases to be nothing but a figment of his imagination.
   “Tell me, Julian.” Stop. Don’t let him influence you like this. It’s just more games. You know what you remember. You know what happened. He’s just trying to confuse you, he’s trying to make you question your own memories. And those memories are rising to the surface as if Garak’s words had triggered them to appear one after the other. Julian can feel it in start with the phantom ghost of arms around him and he lets that scene, that waking dream carry him away. He can feel his body start to heat that cold surface to warm around him and he presses further against it almost feeling feverish.
“Yes, Of course you were on top of me. Don’t you dare tell me you don’t remember because I remember your weight. It was on the couch. Ninety five kilograms pressing my back into the cushions. I can feel you grinding against me, I can feel that you want me when I feel that eversion start slow then grow bigger, harder, and then I was on top of you. We rolled over on the floor and I unzipped the uniform just as you pulled my down by the collar and pulled my mouth on yours.”
   "How?" Like this... That's what Julian wants to say. He wants to turn and show Garak exactly how it was. He wants to bring Garak to that save fever pitch of need as he was that night when his hands joined Julian’s in tugging at the zipper down, when those hands shoved the cloth down trapping his arms to his body. He needs Garak to feel it too, feel that perspiring hot, sweat between them when his memory blurs again to Garak's stealing his breath with a hand fisted in his hair.
"Like you were stealing my breath,” he says out loud, “Like you were lava incarnate," Like the temperature is supposed to be 98.6 degrees but somehow you were at least 120... "It was sloppy, hard with your mouth crushing mine to yours, wet, with your teeth, with you tasting, devouring-"
"You know Cardassians don't kiss like humans, my dear," Garak interrupts sounding amused and Julian goes to turn his head angrily but finds instead that he’s held there beneath the glass like a butterfly, wings spread, pinned pitifully down. But you can’t keep me pinned down. I could make you move. It would be nothing to make you move so why can’t I-
   "No,” Garak’s voice interrupts that thought. “There should be a tender tap of the tongue, some might say a serpentine twining wet, occasionally messy, but far more elegant, far more of an exotic dance than that impertinent mash of one mouth to another my dear. Unless perhaps you're conflating reality for one of your vulgar human fantasies." There's such a faint tease to the tip of his ear that without reaching up to touch it, Julian cannot be sure that he's not dreaming it. “You do have such a beautifully, filthy mind, Julian.” Julian gasps, an intake of breath that almost makes him swallow his tongue and now he is certain that he can feel Garak's lips, belying that declaration that a Cardassian would never do anything so vulgar.
   "You don't... you don't know what you're..." Julian stops, that sentence trailing off to endless possibilities, each of them darker than the last, and he's horrified to see how easily they turn to those forbidden notions. You offer yourself to me, on your knees before me as a prize for winning this game Garak, but you don’t know… You couldn’t possibly know that you’ve already given me that gift once before. You’ve already given me that freedom, that control, that taste of the pleasure that your body could bring me. Julian breathes in deeply, slowly, feeling as though he might melt into the panel itself. You don’t know how your blood tasted on my tongue, how my hands couldn’t stop shaking over the handle of the scalpel. You don’t know how close I came to going too far, to leaving scars, to holding you down and- And stop it Julian. Don’t you see this is what he wants? This is that darkness that he wants to bring to the front, that monster that he wants to seize you. This is the demon that he wants to turn you to. But he wants it, God help him he wants it.
   “Tell me Julian…” Julian. Not Jules. That’s right. He wants Julian to tell him what happened. He wants Julian to tell him how it felt when he-
“Do you know what I remember, Garak?” He can feel that darkness spilling into him even without it being summoned from some external trigger. “What I remember without your lies and your misdirection? I remember exactly what it is that you’re offering now,” He taunts, perversely titillated that such things are coming from him. “You say that I can have you, on your knees, broken, begging, but I remember Garak… I remember that. That I’ve already had it.” And as he speaks those words, he has another memory of the night Garak is calling him to remember.
   “Yes, yes I’ve already had you on your knees in front of me. You took it into your mouth. Your hands were on my thighs.” His mouth is dry, so dry, and he pants as that image assails his senses, of Garak’s eyes looking up at him, not with the glazed deadness of the conditioning, but with brilliant presence, with willing seduction. “You took it until it hit the back of your damn throat and you took it like it wasn’t the first time either.” Julian fires the heated words, not even needing to close his eyes to recall the feel of Garak’s mouth, of the scrape of his teeth. “Shall I tell you how hot your mouth was, Garak? Shall I tell you how that tongue felt sliding down my prick?” He swallows down nerves hard at that vulgarity, the blood pounding in his ears. God if anyone should come by… if anyone should hear you…
   “Such language, my dear,” Garak admonishes with a mock gasp and it angers him to think that he’s still being made fun of.
“Shall I tell you,” he forces himself to continue, feeling the sweat starting to bead on his forehead as his voice raises. “How you swallowed it? How you swallowed every last drop and licked it off of your fingers. Is that what you want to hear?!”
“Is that what you want Julian?” Julian blinks fury away from his eyes, Garak still teasing him, still taunting him.
“It’s what already is, what already was, and you know it,” he growls, that sound morphing to a low throaty purr when he feels Garak’s fingers twist in his hair.
   “Like that? Is that what you imagined, holding my head just like that when you… violated my throat, you say?”
“You know damn well that’s what happened and you loved every second of it.”
“Did I?”
“Harder.” He feels that tug increase, feels that mouth move those maddening mouthings to his skin, making him scratch nails sharply to the glass, practically slamming his forehead to it. He doesn’t remember this happening before but there’s a bodily memory that swears it has. And as soon as he believes, he can remember something else, another scenario where Garak held him just like this and drove his cock so hard into him that even Julian’s strength couldn’t hold his place on the floor.
“I never imagined you liked to play so rough.” Yes, yes that’s exactly what you aid when you-
“I’m going to break you.” Julian doesn’t know where that comes from even as he says it. It terrifies him. It excites him.
   “Like that?” Garak presses him flush to that glass, pressing the breath from his body, and there’s another flood of recollection, that motion triggering the images as he shuts his eyes tightly, brought back to that night, again feeling that impulse to use that forbidden command to call Garak back to his chambers for these last few precious hours. No, stop it, Julian, stop playing his game, stop letting him goad you, stop letting him bring that darkness back. You’re better than that, you’re better than Jules!
“I didn’t mean that,” Julian rushes out.
“I think you meant every word, my dear Julian. And that’s exactly why, as you demanded to know before I do not “call him”. I do not need to call him because he, as we’ve established on several occasions now, has never left.”
“I’m not him. I’m nothing like him.”
                He expects some maniacal taunting laugh from some cliché old holonovel, but it doesn’t come.
“You’re beautiful,” Garak whispers, fingers teasing up, touching so covertly that dataport that he isn’t sure if it’s real or not as his body tenses anxiously.
“You have no idea,” Julian blurts out suddenly, “You’ve no idea what I… “ His voice drops, seeing when he closes his eyes Garak on his knees fervently licking the blood of his own wounds from Julian’s fingers. You’ve no idea that I’ve already broken you, Garak… He slaps a hand to the back of his neck as if swatting a fly. But Garak’s hands, his warmth, his everything, has deserted him. Julian whirls around for the second time that night in surprise.
   The Promenade is still empty, Garak standing there in front of it all examining him like a uncut bolt of cloth at least a good few meters away.
“What if I told you, Julian,” he begins calmly, glib, but somehow dangerous, not a single hint of that earlier heat in his voice, “-that I know everything?” That simple question disrupts the nervous wipe of his palms to his pants and he swears his heart doesn’t beat for a good three counts.
“What?” Cold. That’s the first and only thing that lances through him, gripping him, that blood in his ears not hot but slowing hypothermic ice. He watches Garak take a few slow steps back watching him, that smile growing smaller with the rest of him.
   Julian unfreezes his feet from the frozen tundra beneath him clay, rock idol nearly crumbling as he tries to lift them.
“What did you say?” His voice is louder but not so loud as to echo throughout the entire Promenade. Even so that’s exactly what it seems to do. Garak maintains that same level amusement.
“All this time you consider how easily one can deceive manipulate the subconscious, command such base brutal acts. And yet you behave as if your own mind is immune from the same deception. Do you understand now, Coriolanus? Everything you remember, everything you dream between us that night; it never happened. Any of it.”
“You’re lying!”
“Of course. I’m always lying. Run along, my dear and take comfort in the knowledge that I will be absolute fine upon your heroic return. And as for your lovely young pieces in the game well... I promise not to break them beyond what you can repair.”
   And it’s not because Garak commanded it, it’s not because he’s suddenly, desperately afraid. But Julian flees nonetheless.
- 9
- 10
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