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. |
Note: This took a bit longer than expected but here we have it. Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting there are a few warning for language, and the usual darkness and mental instability that we're come to know and love with Julian/Jules. C&C is always welcome. Look for more characters appearaing int he nect chapter!
Julian hissed as the warmth from the dermal regenerator slid over the skin of his neck. The beard was gone, a fact which irked him far more than anything, all the blood was far easier to clean off without it. Julian’s expression was black as he avoided looking in the mirror. He looked far too like-“Aren’t you just so terribly clever, Elim Garak.” The skin healed and he moved down to the first bite on his trapezius. He shook hair out of his face, still wet and unbrushed- a matted mop- as he continued to work. “I’m yours, is that the gist of it?” He winced as the next wound started closing up. “That’s your claim? That’s your mark?” He shook his head again, creating another splash of water droplets on the glass. “Yes Corat was all too happy to tell me about it when he was finished.” Julian winced, soreness seeming to come to the forefront and his body clenched with the memory in spite of the pain. “Yes all too happy to rub it in, Garak. But you knew that he would be. You knew exactly how he would react, you knew all of it. Don’t forget my place, that’s what you said to me. And ohhh did I ever lap that up, every last bit of it. But don’t worry, Elim, darling, I never forget anything. I’m sort of fucking perfect like that.”
Julian chuckled darkly, bordering on manic, as he worked his way down to the scratches on his chest.
“I’m going to be the one with the last laugh, you miserable Cardie bastard and you? You’re going to be kneeling at my feet a dead eyed doll if that’s what it takes. I’m the one with the codes. I’m the one who controls you and I’m the one who-“ It was then he chose to look in the mirror and froze seeing the doctor’s face staring too familiarly back at him. Julian swallowed, nearly dropping the device as he quickly looked down and away. “I’m the one who…” His voice was whisper quiet. It pained his ears as it closed in around him. The quiet seemed to fill the room worse than the humidity of the shower and as Julian’s eyes fell down to the rest of his bruised and aching body he shut his eyes. “Get it together Julian you can’t… Jules. Get it together Jules, God, you bloody git you’re so close you can’t fall apart on me know. We have the codes.” He opened his eyes taking a deep breath.
“We have the codes, we have a third of the Bajorans on the station, we have several dozen members of Starfleet and we’ll have the ships that…” Julian trailed off as he realized he was still looking stupidly at the dermal regenerator. There were still bruises, scratches on his back, still so many wounds that needed to be repaired and suddenly it seemed infinitely tedious. The wounds were clean, most of them wouldn’t scar. He set the device down on the sink and decided that he’d healed the most obvious and that was enough. Julian could hear the voice screaming at him to finish the job, to fix them, but there was that defiant part of his mind that refused. He frowned as he continued to face the mirror. “You may be a part of me, but you’re not all of me. I don’t even know why the hell I’m even doing half this rot but I’ll be damned if I let you…” He released the grip he had on the sink with a sigh. “It should’ve been Garak. It would’ve been Garak if I wasn’t so close if I didn’t panic if I didn’t… If you didn’t do a lot of things, you bloody fool. What the hell were you thinking letting him get so close in the first place?
“Esteem, Self-actualization, they’re at the top of the pyramid Jules. That nutter Salsbury ought to have shown you what happens when you don’t realize those. When you bury them in work and false success and everything else you’ve been drugging yourself with the last ten years.” Julian stood up straight as he picked up a pair of neatly folded blue panties shaking his head. “Of course it’s only natural that one needs to indulge in such undisclosed desires rather than fall into madness. I’m sick to death of hiding everything all the time. We should’ve been sick of it long before this. But that’s going to end soon enough. We’re not going to end up at the Institute because we like wearing women’s knickers. You’re not going to be put away because you’re a little more bent than the average Starfleet Officer. You’ve far surpassed the petty concerns of a career minded adolescent, you’ve ascended to fucking Godhood. Let them come. Let them all dash themselves upon the rocks and shoals and drown in your divinity, Jules, darling. Let yourself drown in it for that matter because all that matters now is finishing what we’ve started and the rest... will fall into to place.”
Julian dressed quickly realizing that his internal clock had been thrown completely off since Garak had left.
“Computer, time?”
“Six thirty.” He nearly slumped in relief as he went hunting for the Starfleet uniform that was becoming more unbearable to don the closer the plan came to fruition. He made a quick adjustment to a strap sliding off his shoulder thinking that Garak would make something far better fitted to his-
“Stop thinking about him,” Julian chided himself softly as he stepped into the familiar garment. “Stop-“ Julian caught himself in the mirror again, uniform on, freezing this time, bringing his hand up not to his own face but the image on the glass. “Stop thinking about all of them, Julian. They’re not your friends. They’ve never been your friends. Not except for Miles and even he wouldn’t want anything to do with you if you hadn’t remade him in your image. The rest of them don’t know you and if they did they damn sure wouldn’t like you. They never liked you. You’re too mean. You’re too smart, you’re too… too weird, too Julian- too everything.”
He rapped the glass a few times watching his image wobble as he did.
“That’s all you are Julian. You’re just an image in glass. You’re a wobbly bit of fakery and no one wants to see…” The glass seemed to continue to shake and it was only then he realized that it wasn’t the glass that was moving still but his eyes. “It doesn’t matter if they don’t like you. Who cares? You’re better than them. You were made to be better. You weren’t made to fail you weren’t made to be human- you were made to be a bloody god and gods don’t stand sobbing in the bathroom like children!” His hands twisted the fabric of the uniform tightly, pulling it away from his neck so he could breathe while he furiously scrubbed at his eyes. It was choking him. The uniform, the air, whatever it was, the more air he took in, the more his body was demanding and he both fought to stay standing while his body called to him to throw down on the floor and just scream. Except that Julian was on the floor. His knees were on the hard surface and he didn’t know how he even got there until the door chimed and he nearly hit his head on the sink.
Julian swore as he got to his feet, the distraction snapping him back to a semblance of clarity. There wasn’t any time to do more than frantically rearrange his wet hair as best as he could in the bathroom mirror pulling it messily back.
“I just…” Julian cleared his cracking voice. “I’ll be there in a minute!” He spared a glance for his reflection and licked his lips missing the waxy feel of the gloss. He almost didn’t recognize the face staring back at him and had to blink a few times before it became clear. Julian shook his head, frowning at the growing mess in his quarters when he opened the door at last to see Michael Eddington standing there with an unreadable expression.
“Why are you-“ Eddington raised a finger to his lips for him to be silent and Julian immediately obeyed. He crooked that finger to follow him leaving Julian to grab the first pair of shoes he could find and rushed after him. He wasn’t so certain he was going to like whatever he was about to hear.
Julian watches Quark leave and fumbles the pea as Miles sits back down. It rolls onto his plate and Miles rolls his eyes.
“You don’t need to put me on like that. I’m sure you coulda done it the first time I showed ya.” Julian frowns as he’s called on the ruse. He shakes his head.
“It’s a bit late in the day for showing off, isn’t it? That’s not considering the attention that it might draw and really I’m just…” he takes a breath. “I’m just glad that we could work all that out.” Julian scratches the nape of his neck nervously.
“Yeah well you had me goin’ round in circles for a bit there but I thought about it y’know. I thought what with the chaos on the station and now…” he indicated the Klingon presence with far more gravity than he had when Quark was at the table. “Realized that maybe there’s something better out there that I oughta be looking for. I’m getting too old for war...” Miles trails off and Julian leans in looking concerned. “Too old for a lot of things,” he says softly.
“Look, Chief if you’re even a little bit unsure then-“
“But aren’t you?” Miles asks him with an intensity that almost flusters him. “I mean I know you’ve said this is more than just some mad fancy that’s come over you in the past few months but to abandon Starfleet to-” he drops his voice “what you’re planning even if no one gets hurt like you said it’s going to do more than just rattle a few cages, the Captain’s likely to-”
“I have to do this, Miles. You asked me why, once. You asked me what I’m doing this for can you believe half the time I don’t even know myself?”
“S’why I said before you weren’t thinking clearly,” Miles half mutters. “I said you weren’t right in the head an’ I don’t mean that as a knock but yer askin’ a helluva lot without much to go on.”
“I know, and I can’t explain it but it’s a feeling. No, it’s more than a feeling it’s a need. It’s an imperative. It’s like the prophets or the gods themselves truly have taken hold of me and compelled me. I’m not hearing voices,” Julian hastily adds with a sideways look. “But I believe in this.” I have to. It’s too late to turn back now and he might have started it but I need to finish it because I don’t even know how to stop myself if I tried.
“I need you, Chief. Surely you know that or you wouldn’t come back to help me. God knows I thought I’d screwed everything up but here you are. You have to believe in me or why else would you be here? You’re the only real friend I’ve ever had and I certainly owe you better than ‘trust me’ but that’s what I’m asking.” Julian almost forgets to breathe the more he talks and he isn’t even sure himself half the time what he believes and what he doesn’t. “It’ll be shorter than the drill we had the other day. It’ll just be a few minutes of holding ops. All we need is enough time to offline the shields and disable the systems long enough for the transporters from the ships to lock on to all the right signatures and that’s it.” Miles has his mouth pursed and Julian knows that’s far from it. Just leave it alone, Chief. I told you the last time that Keiko and Molly won’t be in any danger. It’s just the soldier in you seeing the worst case scenario when I’ve already accounted for Odo’s response or even any possible interference from the Klingons. But even accounting for all of that none of the fighting will reach the habitat ring. I’ve run the scenario so many times I can play every possibility out in slow motion for God’s sake and if you can’t trust me then-
“Alright. God knows I might end up regretting this but I’m in. But I don’t like all this”
“I just need that much, I promise. You know why I can’t tell anyone else you know why we can’t let the Bajorans know the Captain isn’t behind this but… but they’ll see. They’ll see when we’ve built something greater than they can all imagine, when I…”
When I’m a fucking god. That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it, Julian? Christ, you can’t be serious. You don’t think that. You don’t… They don’t need to know that. Even Miles. When he joins you he’ll see it. When he can open his mind, when the neural pathways branch out and take hold of so many more connections but right now it’s just you. It’s you against the world and even without Miles or Garak or Leeta or any of them you can do this. It’s all coming together. The hell with the Klingons whatever their business you’ll be gone soon and if it distracts from the main plan then that’s all that-
“What about Phoenix?” The question stuns him for a moment and he squishes the other pea he’s picked up between his fingers.
“Wh-what?” He looks around quickly but as quiet as it is it’s a self-contained quiet that cares for no one else’s business. Julian can see that the patrons are too busy keeping to themselves to keep to him. “I don’t know what you’re-”
“Come off it, I know that all the money that we need didn’t just come out of thin air. I’m not stupid… specially not now right?” There’s a sort of bitter laugh that accompanies that statement.
Julian looks down at the plate unable to meet his eyes.
“Right I…” Not really a whole lot you can say to that now, is there? Yeah sorry I rearranged your biology without asking. Didn’t think it’d hurt much? Thought you’d be grateful. Right. How the hell out of your damn mind were you to ever think that such an unforgivable thing would be-
“Hey.” Julian turns and looks at Miles in time to catch the pea that he tosses him. “Think I’d be sitting here right now if I was still mad enough to knock you upside the head and down again?” Julian laughs.
“I don’t know Chief, I’ve seen some of the tricks you’ve pulled out in the holodeck I’m not likely to put anything past you.”
“Oh look who’s talking. Who’s the one that wormed his way out of that last mission? Who had half the station thinking he was sick? Tellin’ ya, Jules we sure coulda used you out there with the Changeling that snuck on board while you were sneaking around with some Cardie bigshot.” Julian nearly starts at that and opens his mouth to ask just how much Miles knows about that when he thinks he sees Eddington walk past from his peripheral vision.
Eddington hadn’t believed for one second that Miles could be trusted. He had said that Miles’ sudden change of heart was nothing if not suspicious. He said Julian would be a fool to trust him and he nearly pulled his support right there before a million assurances. But I could hardly expect a man like you to understand that, Mr. Eddington. You’re Mister “Let’s be friends” well I’ve never had a real friend before that I could count on, who believed in me even seeing me as my absolute worst. You’re the only one who’s bothered, Chief. You’re the only one who hasn’t hated me when you knew… when you knew who and what I am, what goes on in my head, even the half of it and whether it’s real or not right now you’re all I have. He thinks unintentionally of Garak- as much as he’s tried not to do that very thing and maintain his focused somehow it all keeps coming back to him. Miles’ voice interrupts that turn of thought thankfully.
“Now c’mon, I know you can do it, Jules.”
Julian doesn’t know why but there’s something about the inflection to that name that seems off. He can’t put his finger on it and already he feels an odd disconnect going off that part of his head and it harkens back to that night that he fell asleep in Garak’s quarters. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it, Julian? He did something. He has to have done something and whatever it is it’s screwing with your head in a way that even you can’t seem to fix. He locked us out of our own mind because there’s no other reason for the construction on the promenade. There’s no reason that some of the doors of the cathedral are shut. But I can’t open them now can I, Garak? You filthy fucking lizard I’ve just about had it with your-
Julian lifts his head and sits back in the chair telling that annoying sniveling part of himself to be silent. He feels back in control and takes a pea, flicking it into the air off his thumb, catching it in his mouth with a quick swallow. He watches the Klingons gathered around with a sneer and doesn’t see the shift in Miles’ countenance at the drastic change. Julian takes another pea, rolling it playfully between his fingers.
“Perhaps I ought to give these genetic throwbacks something to really talk about,” he says not seeing Miles wince. He watches the lot of them setting the pea on his hand, ready to flick it at any one of them. “Bet they’d never even suspect the good Doctor, now would they, chief?” Julian turns, watching all of them, seeing who he wants to antagonize the most. “Oh the brutes won’t even see it coming and then we can really set it off. Did I ever tell you when I was a child some of the children would put together the most unlikely of insects in a terrarium and watch them fight to the death? I never lost any of those bets, either.” He chuckles. “My money’s on that particularly ugly one sitting a table over from Morn.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Julian doesn’t so much as turn to acknowledge him or answer the concern in Miles’ voice. “I mean yeah we may be supermen of a sorts but I really don’t fancy an all out brawl in the bar and Quark-“
“Quark is being paid far more than he deserves thanks to me and if you ask me the bar could use a good remodeling...” Julian locks in on his target and sits back just a bit further. “I’ll tell you one thing if there’s one lot we don’t need in our world it’s-”
“Julian.” Miles uses the other name forcefully and Julian drops the pea whirling to face him with wide eyes. His face is an instant metamorphosis to shock and confusion and without the beard he’s worn the last few months he seems much more the doctor in the flesh. He looks about to fall off the chair but darts his eyes up and down not knowing how to answer the address as he searches Miles’ face frantically for the reason that he used that name.
Miles looks for a moment too brief to register like a man just caught in an awful lie. Julian blinks and it’s gone.
“My mum used to do that,” Miles offers looking away quickly. “You know the drill? Ya hear the full name you know you’re in for it… Didn’t think it’d work quite so well, yeah?” Julian doesn’t know if he should believe him. There is every part of Eddington’s warning screaming back in his head but he wants so badly to believe that Miles isn’t one of the ones lying to him.
“Right well… I suppose I could use a little restraint. I don’t know what came over me I should probably get back to work. How much time will you need for the… for the- you know…”
“Yeah shouldn’t be more than a week or two. I’ll have to work on it on my off hours. It’ll be better that way- easier to… to practice for our next match.”
Julian follows Miles’ eyes immediately to the source of the odd change in conversation, his mouth tight when he sees who stands next to him.
“Gentlemen, I’m sorry to interrupt but there’s a serious matter I need to discuss with Doctor Bashir.” Julian looks up, keeping his face carefully neutral.
“Much as I’d like to assist you, Constable, I need to get back to the infirmary within the next few minutes. As you might imagine with the influx of… guests on the station we’ve seen an increase in incidents and we’ve been quite busy. If this could wait until the end of my shift?...” Julian looks at him careful to keep any sign of worry or aggravation off his face. We’re too close. We are far too close to play these nonsense games with you, Odo, and if Garak seriously believes that he’s going to bury me then-
“I would prefer that this be resolved as quickly as possible. The new Cardassian Government might not be terribly concerned about one of the old guard not returning home but I do not like the idea that a man has gone missing during my absence with no one seeing fit to so much as file a report.”
“Yes, well much as I sympathize,” Julian said unable to hide the faint traces of annoyance in his voice, “I don’t see where I can be of any help.” He sighs to cover it. “As I’ve explained to you I’ve been far too busy in the infirmary to have heard much less seen anything. Security seems to be rather ill equipped for the extra measures required as of late so why you seem to find one missing man in the midst of all this… well I don’t mean to be impolite however-”
“Legate Corat,” Odo cuts in tersely, “has not been seen since he was witnessed leaving your quarters, Doctor, and my security or ‘not impolitely’ lack thereof is not what is in question at the moment.”
Julian freezes. He remains calm even as every motion of his body stills to a halt. Garak, he thinks feeling the blood start to pound going to white hot. Is that your game, Garak? You’re not able to fight your own battles any more so you have Odo doing your dirty work? You’ve been out of the game too long then because I’m not going to be nearly that easy. You’re not going to throw me to the wolves that neatly. I’m a God, Garak, a mortal ascended to walk the halls of greatness, you don’t think I didn’t see every possibility, every aspect of your cunning? Think again. He filters it all in the time it takes him to blink two times. He sees Miles catch it. He can see those eyes watch him out of time just as he is himself and though it makes Miles frown to see it- it still makes him uncomfortable to see all that he’s capable of. It makes Julian rejoice with success. He faces Odo, face affecting perfect shock, eyes darting around the bar as if they were surrounded by more than just Klingons and Dabo girls.
“Garak,” he breathes out bringing a nervous hand to the side of his face. “I don’t know what you…” He swallows and stands up quickly leaning in so that only Odo can hear him. “You’re right, Constable, this absolutely cannot wait.” He whispers the words with all of the doctor’s theatrical covert enthusiasm wrapped in a neat little package. I wanted to take you with me, Garak I wanted us to be together but you had to go and cross me. There’s a pause, Odo looking suspicious just as he would suspect, and Julian appears thoughtful with just enough anxiousness in his voice. “Can I meet you there in five minutes? I think you’ll find it worth the wait I really need to… to get something you need to know about and it would be much better as you said to discuss it in private.” He waits to see what Odo will say. Let me cross back, you filthy reptile. Let’s watch the snake wiggle for a while and see how docile he is when I bury him up to his neck and leave him to die in the blinding desert sun. He doesn’t have to wait long for the curt nod.
“Very well, Doctor, I’ll see you shortly.”
Julian smiles at his retreating back.
“You’re planning something, aren’t you?” Miles asks from where he’s still seated.
“I need to speak with Quark,” Julian answers eyes quickly scanning the bar. “But oh, Chief, I wish you could be there to see it. It’s going to be absolutely marvelous.” He sees Rom coming out from the back. Close enough. “The performance of a lifetime… they can stack that to the damn Carrington I didn’t win.” He stops briefly at the touch to his arm hesitating only for a moment before shaking it off. “Maybe I’ll tell you over a pint while we get everything finalized.”
“What are you going to do, Jules?” comes the hushed whisper. Julian laughs softly at Mile’s curiosity.
“What am I going to do? I’m going to show Mr. Garak just how fragile his alliance with Odo really is.”
Julian watches Garak closing up his store from across the Promenade looking far too pleased with himself. He actually bought it. Hook, line, and sinker, that damn thing cost me a near mint but… Julian takes a few steps, pausing to admire his reflection in the window of an adjacent shop front. “I don’t know how to say this Odo but... Oh god I’ve gone and done something awful and I never should have helped him I never should have believed the lies but I wanted so badly to believe that he wasn’t that person anymore...”Yes I was so terribly noble in there, Garak. I was fucking masterful. “I don’t want to believe he’s a bad man Constable but I know it has to stop so I’ve been watching him.” And thank you Mr. Eddington because I couldn’t have doctored all those records so carefully even with the codes. And now all that leaves is time. Yes, there will be time, Mr. Prufrock for a hundred visions and revisions except unlike Mr. Elliot’s titular protagonist I really do have all the time in the world. And you, Garak, will have time in a holding cell these next few weeks to ponder the direction your life is taking. Isn’t that what Father always said to you Julian, darling? And look where you are now old man, probably on some remote colony selling snake oil to indigents. But as for me...Julian turns his attention to Garak through the large doorway watching as he meticulously finishes folding the last of the tunics on the center table with his back to him.
“Et tu Brute?” He whispers softly to himself. “You wear betrayal like the mantle of finest gold, Garak.” Julian absently fondles the chains beneath his uniform and slowly approaches. There’s a Bajoran man about to cross his path who stops and yields the way with a look of submissive deference. Julian smiles and inclines his head, holding himself just a little straighter. He scans the Promenade not seeing any signs of Major Kira or Odo. “The Emissary and the Prophets are humbled by your service,” he whispers as he passes by. Soon. God, it will be so soon and the way they look at you Julian dwarfs anything you’ve accomplished before. Maybe I’ll even get one of those little earrings while I’m at it. That’s how it should be that’s… He stops and rubs at his forehead. That’s not... correct. Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not doing this for glory or infamy you’re helping people you’re saving people you’re not… you’re not some egotistical teenager any more you’re just-
“Good evening, Julian, you have my apologies but I’m afraid I’ve already locked everything up so if you’re in need of a new… image, the time has already passed for that.” Julian blinks at him wondering how he could have missed his feet carrying him to the doorway, Garak closing up for the evening. He doesn’t remember the last few moments outside of his head. He looks past Garak and tries to remember how much time he’s lost.
“I…” Julian swallows and moves to lower his hand realizing they’re both at his sides. Garak stands in front of him distant, professional, everything that he wasn’t the other night. Julian smiles at him. Dismiss me all you want Garak, I’ve won, you lost. I’m God of the new world and you’re a serpent about to be thrown out of Eden. He opens his mouth again. And yet I can’t help it when I see you I still want to take you with me…
He smiles with a hint of the doctor’s charm.
“You’re not going to invite me in for another clandestine after hours fitting? Surely there are plenty of Klingons who might use your showroom to discuss nefarious dealings.” Julian smiles as he falls back on the old banter. Garak looks at him searching. He doesn’t return the expression.
“You’ll need to find your extra-curricular activities elsewhere, Jules. I’ve changed the locks.” Garak’s smile is strained and he moves to walk past him. “Goodnight.” Julian reaches out and grabs his shoulder automatically surprising even himself. What the hell are you doing?! Let him go already you silly tit! You don’t need the distraction and if you’re that hard up to get your rocks off go find Leeta and make damn sure that you’re securing your hold on the rest of the station while you’re at it.
“Does the order teach you to turn and run with your tail between your legs when the stakes get too high, Elim?” he all but purrs ignoring his own wild thoughts. Garak smiles at him tightly, looking to the hand but making no move.
“You know, Jules, if I really were a member of that rather infamous organization- and of course I’m not saying that I am- that action might be considered unwise at best.” The words are spoken with dangerous calm Garak looking at the hand like poison.
“You don’t scare me, Garak,” Julian scoffs. Nonetheless, he lets go and takes an unconscious step back.
“What a curious thing to say to a mere tailor,” Garak observes mildness blanketing ice, still watching Julian’s hand. Oh, that struck a nerve did it? Is that why you played that nasty little trick on me, Garak? I bruised your ego and you bruised my-
“What happened to the Legate?” Julian asks daring Garak to look him in the eyes. He draws the chains out, to steady himself, watching Garak’s face with careful scrutiny taking one step sideways, crossing the other, circling him with a sway of his hips that’s unmistakably sexual.
Garak’s eyes follow him as long as he stays in sight- he doesn’t turn with Julian’s predatory stalking.
“I would think that you would know far more about that than I would, Jules.” Julian stops in front of him, eyes watching the few stragglers on the Promenade making their way to Quarks as everyone else busies themselves closing up. Julian keeps his voice soft, keeps the anger from reflecting too much on his face. He watches two Bajoran security officers walking the opposite direction and gives a benevolent smile. They wave back upon seeing him and there is a slight indulgent squaring of shoulders. Yes, that’s better, don’t let him bait you. He has nothing but his words and his little lies and you Jules, you have everything. But even that thought can’t keep the sound of his laughter turning from cavalier to caustic.
“I bet you thought that little trick was funny, didn’t you?”
“It’s in my nature to be amusing.”
“It’s in your nature to be a lot of things.” Julian retorts getting more heated. He takes a step away and leans against the wall separating stores hard, defiantly staring ahead past Garak’s shoulder as if he cannot be bothered to turn to look.
He doesn’t see Garak looking at him with a long measured assessment. Julian only sees the faint incline of his head from his peripheral vision.
“I suppose I must concede that point,” Garak answers face far more serious than his tone would imply. “But I must also bid you farewell for the evening. The wedding is in a few days and the more of the bridal party that flocks to the station the more I find myself forced away from your… charming company.” Garak gives a nod of his head that’s far too stiff where Julian doesn’t see it. He turns back to the direction of the habitat ring, footfalls echoing loudly in the empty Promenade. Julian stops himself from immediately following. Stop letting him get to you. Stop letting him control this. You’re the one in control, you’re the one a few short clicks of time to victory why are you still getting so worked up over him? Just let him leave already. Let him go, let him take the fall when Odo reviews that file and sees just as he’s supposed to that all of this was Garak all along with you just the innocent awestruck dullard caught up in a game of intrigue gone horribly awry.
“What did you do to the Legate, Garak?” The words are out again before he can call them back, fingers curling to a fist as he bangs the support beam of the wall. “Garak!” Either Garak doesn’t hear him or he chooses not to. Julian whirls furiously. You don’t do that. You do not turn your back on me! He’s forced to run to catch up, Garak’s strides seeming to growing longer and more swift. When Julian finally stops in front of him they’re already to the turbolift. The doors open behind them both. Garak looks at him with a look of complete dismissal to Julian’s dark and dangerous countenance.
“Perhaps I’m still unfamiliar with all the nuances of human conversation but I believe that we were finished. If you needed to speak with me regarding a professional matter-“
“You’re not getting away that easily.”
“My, how terribly cliché of you,” Garak murmurs, looking past Julian to the open lift. Julian can see the red again- can feel the heat coming to his face. You are not dismissing me, Garak, that isn’t how this works. That may have been how it was in the past when you were playing games with the doctor but that isn’t how it is now and I’m not him!
“I asked you a question. Garak.”
“I believe just now you made a declarative statement.”
“What did you do to the Legate?” Julian’s teeth are clenched, his voice a low hiss.
There’s a pregnant pause as Garak look him up and down with a curiosity reserved for a particularly interesting specimen. It’s a look his father wears all too comfortably as well. Julian can hear the thumpthump, his vision blurring faintly, the images of Garak’s face blurring as well. He refuses to blink. He refuses to look away. Garak smiles at him with that tilt of his head that Julian has never failed to find attractive no matter who occupies his head. He leans in and Julian feels the twitch of muscles eager to intercept, to fight as if he were backed against a corner or even to- Julian holds his ground waiting as Garak whispers to the shell of his ear in the coldest, most dangerous voice that he’s ever heard.
“I hemmed his trousers too short.” Julian shuts his eyes for a long blink when it seems that Garak’s teeth nip the sensitive flesh. He locks every muscle down tightly lest Garak see him shiver. Julian can feel the cold aura of danger radiating off in waves. It makes the anger, the fury simmer slowly morphing to something else entirely.
You killed him, didn’t you? They’ve found no body- they probably never will but as I’m standing here, as I breathe, I know what you did, Garak. He feels the warm leaving, feels Garak slide past him like liquid stepping into the turbolift’s chamber. Julian doesn’t hesitate. He steps in with him, back against the wall, crossing his arms. He licks his lips, squeezing his bicep, fingers digging into the flesh. Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life. He digs harder.
“And what, did the good Legate do to earn such a… fashion faux pas?” A bitter smile appears on Garak’s face in answer as he looks at the doors.
“I’m afraid Legate Corat committed the most grievous offense of any patron towards the proprietor of an honest business.”
“And that would be?” Julian dares not to breathe so as not to miss a single spoken word. He waits, hearing Garak lowering his voice, the words an odd contrast to the coldness of his tone.
“He took something that was not his to take.”
“That’s a matter of opinion, now, isn’t it?” He whispers back feeling the corner of his mouth curling to something equally dangerous as he walks behind Garak to see if that will force him to turn.
“Cardassians do not tend to view possession as a subjective matter.”
Garak doesn’t take the bait leaving Julian to stare at his back silently as the doors morph in Julian’s mind to the door of his quarters- as the clothes fall away and the lights dim to his darker memories. He saw the strong cording of muscles as Garak held his hands behind his back. He watched the shoulders tense as he ran the flat of the blade close to the sensitive ridge of Garak’s spine. He turned the blade to cut carefully outwards a beautiful red river flowing from a glorious gray mountain. Julian watched as Garak bowed his head, heard the sucking in of breath through teeth and an unconscious vociferation breaking through the hush of the room. There was a part of Julian who wanted to turn the point, to stick it in him in one slow torturous drive to watch that back arch, writhe, to hear him scream and-
And Julian feels a sudden roiling in his stomach half anticipation half nausea as he thinks back to that night and finds that the uniform is still horribly tight- perhaps even more so. He looks down and sees his hand clutching tightly, white knuckled to the collar of his uniform as if he would rip it clean off. He tries to let go but finds the hand holds tighter. Julian feels a hitch of nerves in the back of his spine. What sort of doctor are you to be thinking that sort of thing? How can you possibly… how can someone who’s supposed to be the salvation of the universe be standing here thinking such disgusting things? You’re better than this Julian. Saint Jules. Get these damn thoughts out of your head. He’ll be gone soon. Gone gone gone and you need to stop this right now before this goes too far and- Julian swallows a hiccup. Goes too far? Before it goes. Too. Far?! He blinks and continues to stare at the wavering floor and Garak’s shoes. What the bloody hell part of this hasn’t gone too far already?!
Julian stands up straighter from where he’s practically thrown himself back against the door feeling cold clarity clawing back from the abyss. That’s right, you’re already too far gone. And you, Elim, you have your back to me again don’t you? And here I tried so hard to teach you what happens when you show me your back. But maybe you enjoyed that. Maybe in that reptilian brain of yours you enjoyed the power I held over you- your rightful place. Then perhaps there’s hope for you yet, as you’re so fond of saying to me. You’re not any different from the rest of them. They always repent after all, even if you have to dig the screws in. Even if you have to be mean. No... It’s not mean, Jules. You’re so kind to them… And you Garak I’ve given you so many chances. I’m going to… He licks his lips a shadow passing over his face. You’re going to be gone soon. But you’re not going to stay gone. You’re going to repent just like a sinner, Garak. In chains, imprisoned, I’ll be your salvation, my darling Elim. The most revered holy men fasted 40 days and you… seven days is all I ask of you. Seven days ‘til salvation but I will give you the most beautiful dreams to send you off into the darkness.
Julian hears rather than sees the doors open as inwardly focused as he is. His eyes stare ahead towards Garak’s back but the mind’s eye sees nothing but the endless ocean and brilliant blue skies of the M class planet he’s decided on. Bacteria, protozoa, everything at the microscopic level waiting to be molded, to be assimilated into the greatness of his vision and here in front of him now Julian sees not an obstacle but the one thing he desires above nearly everything else. Every thought passes in his mind’s eye in the blink of the beep and the scant inclination of Garak’s head towards him as he bids goodnight. For you the final time, I’m sure but that’s that’s not what I want. Now the question is, can we move fast enough to catch him? Are you faster than time itself, Jules? Of course you are. He takes silent quick steps out feet hitting the ground softer than Cardassian ears fast enough not to trip the safety and stay the door. It closes exactly when it should and there’s a hint of Doctor Bashir boyish grin at that triumph.
Julian’s pulse starts to race faster as he stalks his prey, that grin transforming with every passing memory. Has it been nearly fifteen years to the day? Fifteen years when you learned just how much power you truly held, how much greater than the rest you really are. When you lay your hand to the side of that girl’s face… Anna, that was her name. …and watched her look at you begging you to make her brother well- was there ever a more beautiful sight? No, never. And oh was it ever easy to press a little kiss to her cheek. To give her the antibiotic to the bacteria you cultured yourself. That was bloody brilliant. A kiss, an embrace… and every time, every one of them swore they’d do anything you ever asked of them. All reinforced with every bit of that tactile desperation these poor fools crave… Julian closes his eyes with a deeply drawn breath. Surely you know I’m here, Garak. You have to know, you have to feel that little pinprick to your spine. You have to feel my eyes you have to give a damn that I’m here!
Turn around. Julian opens his eyes and looks at the ceiling of all things. You’ve already lost him, Jules, haven’t you figured that out yet? You’ve already sacrificed him. He’s gone. He’s better without you and as much as you’ve screwed things up it’s for the best that you end it right here. You don’t need to… Julian looks, seeing Garak growing further away. He shakes his head, biting his tongue hard as if such an action could be used to punish himself for those thoughts. The hell you say. I want him. I want him, Julian and I’m not letting you keep him away from me. You’ve kept him at arm’s length for three fucking years and I’m going to… He takes a hard step, the echo painful in the long hallway as he forces the motion as he hasn’t had to in months. He can feel himself being held back, can feel phantom fingers encircling every limb to bind him. You want him too! Don’t tell me you don’t want this, damn you I know everything in our heads, everything between us and I will be damned if we’re denied this any longer, Julian.
He watches Garak stop at the sound of his noisy awkward steps. Garak doesn’t turn around and Julian can feel the violent jerking of his head back and force as if battling some incorporeal phantasm. Jules! Call me Jules Garak. I need to stay here, it has to be me and if you just say my name... Sayt it sayt I don’t want to-
“You would be wise to keep your distance, Julian,” Garak says and it freezes him completely. He blinks rapidly, eyes moving, pupils shaking as if in a REM state. He brings a hand to his head holding it, feeling things slow back down as he breathes, feeling the tendrils of darkness threatening to strangle him.
“I don’t want…” Julian practically throws himself back against the wall bent over clutching his knees as the room spins with a grimace. “You have to call me-“
“Your choice of name is of course, yours to make however as for what I call you. That is a decision that you can’t take away from me, now is it? Did you want something else, Julian?” Garak still isn’t looking at him.
Julian shuts his eyes tightly almost knocking his head against the wall as he tries to hold onto the beautiful darkness that seems to be sloughing off like dead dry scales. He opens his eyes, the light far too bright, wavering, dizzying like it was that night. He once again stares hard at Garak’s back seeing the bare skin recreated from his perfect memory, his eyes misting over as the movie plays slow motion in his mind. Julian had knelt behind Garak the knife still tracing a careful mosaic outward from the protruding ridge of his spine. He watched the center weep, the fingers of his left hand curling painfully into the floor around the grip of the dermal regenerator. His eyes were hyper focused as the blood welled angrily beneath the surface of every coiling scroll, bleeding down from thin straight lines that he allowed to cut in deeper. He catalogued every sound from Garak, every involuntary hitch, every increase in respiration until the mosaic became an instrument that let him draw out a different note with each careful stroke. He could hear Garak gasping and Julian could swear he was breathing out his name as the waterfall of iron rich blood poured down with a soft whisper of-
“Julian?” He refocuses his eyes realizing that Garak has in fact turned back around. And yet in his mind’s eye he still sees the blood welling only now it’s from the hollow of Garak’s throat, a map of man-made, of Julian-made rivers. He look almost afraid to look Garak in the eyes but when he does it almost seems as if Garak is somehow seeing the same vivid recollection. But that’s impossible. He doesn’t remember any of that and even if he did there’s no way he would know it was really you, Julian. He remembers Jules. Jules is who they all remember. Jules is who they all want, not you. But that can’t be because there is no he or we anymore it’s only us or me or-
“You don’t want me, Garak,” he finds himself saying not daring to move from the wall, looking off to the side. “You want-“
“What do you know about what I desire, Julian?” Garak says almost angrily as he throws Julian’s own words back at him..
“Touché,” Julian says quietly focusing finally at some spot on Garak’s tunic. I can’t leave it here.
“Then... maybe…” He swallows hard feeling sweat gathering on his palms as his hands slide behind his back to rest against the wall. What are you doing, Julian? You cannot be this crazy. You don’t want him like this you have… “Maybe we should discuss that matter further…” You have far too much to lose to allow yourself to be this… “…in your quarters.” Julian subtly holds his breath, not with a flamboyant intake of air but slowly allows his breathing to shallow until it halts entirely. He enjoys the slow welling of euphoria, the tightness that grows in his chest, the blurring of lines around every shape in his vision. He can feel his hands squirm behind him, every instinct of his other self fighting for control until with an unconscious motion he draws forth his right hand letting the pads of his fingers sensually brush the side of his own face.
He watches Garak, watches those eyes shift from angry to impassive to curious when he lets his head tilt to the side a fraction at that metamorphosis. Julian lets out the breath slowly, as if every draw of air into his lungs is the most thrilling sensation he’s ever felt and as he feels that calm- that self assured sense of himself settle back he sees Garak smile at him with an amusement that seems almost equally inwardly directed as out.
“That which we call a rose…” Garak says as he holds his right hand up. Julian brings up his left, in an unconscious mirror letting their fingers touch, letting his palm press to Garak’s larger one. All it takes is that one touch to drain every bit of Jules to a homogenized mixture back into the flask.
“I… I beg your pardon?” Don’t say it like that. Stop talking like him stop… Talking like who? I don’t understand? Who am I talking like? I’m not doing… We’re not… I don’t…
“Surely you recall that line, my dear,” Garak says with far too much flippancy. He lowers his hand still keeping that vivisection ocular study. “But would you really? Yes, that is the question which outweighs even the existential matter of being now isn’t it...”
“Would I?...” Julian shifts his posture, moving his hip out with just a small coquettish turn. He allows his throat be exposed, revealing an invitation of tanned skin with that primal gesture of submission.
“Would you taste as sweet?” Garak leans in but stops short of real contact. The heat from his body radiates out like a second set of hands that makes Julian’s breathing growing heavier and stir the fire back to the painful forefront.
“The word is ‘smell’, Garak.” Even that pedantic correction is interlaced with heat. He watches as Garak’s tongue flicks close to his face, close to his ear feeling scorching breath that makes his knees nearly lock together.
“They’re very similar in Cardassian,” Garak says with another teasing reptilian flicker to illustrate the point.
“I can imagine.”
“I’m sure you can imagine a lot of things, Julian. But can you imagine that perhaps you should fear me far more than you fear yourself?”
“Because of your past? Because you’re a spy? Because you’re a former member of the Obsidian Order?” Julian- he who is Doctor Bashir- doesn’t play with the same subtle sensual rulebook; he challenges him directly.
Garak laughs softly, breath tickling Julian’s neck. Oh... that is so... very...
“Because, my dear, I only give even the most priceless of fabrics so many chances to come together properly before I rip them apart at the seams.” Julian feels the scratch of a nail down his neck sharply pulling him away from plebeian romantic dreams- from the doctor’s guileless engagement. He moves away instinctively, long legs allowing him to easily dance out of reach were Garak to reach out. He doesn’t. Aren’t you going to catch me? Julian stands between Garak and the remainder of the long hallway waiting. I’m right here. His heartbeat picks up again as he takes a step back, watching Garak’s eyes, his hands, just daring him to come closer. He is aware of every pulse of blood in his body in the moment and even with his eyes open he dreams of the blood. He dreams of pain and pleasure and every last bit of the endgame’s victory. It still eludes him. Garak still defies him. Fine. I’m finished waiting. I’m bloody well sick and tired of waiting. Waiting for the defectors, waiting for Odo, waiting for the right time when I can stop hiding. Waiting, waiting, waiting! I’m done with it. I want you now.
“Then you should know this fabric is not one to be so easily tattered.” Julian tucks hair behind his ear. “Unless you’re afraid you lack the skill to work it properly.” His eyes flicker up and down over Garak’s body quickly as he steps back again with slow encouragement, once, twice.
“Do you expect me to chase you if you run, Julian?” I would expect you to chase, to covet, to hunt down to posses. I would expect all those things just as I know you would expect that I make it hurt. I like it when it hurts Garak. Julian smiles at him hand toying with the long chains.
“What makes you think that I’m going to run?”
“That’s what prey does, my dear,” Garak answers walking toward him at last. Julian remains where he stands as Garak comes closer, unable to conceal the furious full body stiffening when Garak steps around him neatly. But if I must play the game with you for just this once... Julian pursues, falling into a measured step on Garak’s right. He lets his hands drop behind his back, fingers playing a slow spider walk over each other as he speaks.
“When I was a child,” Julian offers, “One of my favorite stories was Rikki Tikki Tavi. It’s a rather boyish fantasy story found in Kipling’s “The Jungle Book” about a mongoose in India. The whole work is much beloved where my family is from actually.” Julian lets his eyes wander to the doors they pass as he mentally counts the steps from memory to Garak’s quarters.
“A… mongoose, you say?” Garak replies with polite inquiry, the universal translator seeming to leave the word untouched. Julian detects the distinct sibilant accent from Garak’s true voice. He laughs softly.
“I don’t expect you have them on Cardassia. A lot of people mistake them for rodents but actually
they’re more closely related to cats. And really there’s a certain irony to that misconception. Although they might appear at first to be rodents, while they might appear to be members of a snake’s favorite prey, they are in fact members of the family Herpestridae. Care to venture a guess as to what that means?” There’s a slight anticipatory bounce in his step when he asks.
“I’m sure you’re just dying to tell me, my dear and I would hate to take that away from you.”
Julian looks straight ahead, hands clasping tighter, eagerly, as he sees the door mentally counting off those last precious steps.
“They kill snakes,” Julian replies simply as the two of them stop in front of it. He watches out of the corner of his eye for a reaction as he continues. “They are immune to the venom you see by a curious evolutionary quirk. The deadly neurotoxin which usually renders its victims helpless… has no effect on them whatsoever.” Garak chuckles softly and turns to Julian brushing the hair back from his face somehow before Julian even realizes that he’d moved.
“A curious species indeed.” Julian leans his face against Garak’s hand letting his cheek mark the palm. “We most certainly don’t have such… fascinating creatures on Cardassia.” Julian puts his hand over Garak’s as the door opens, nails digging in just the slightest bit.
“Am I coming inside?” Julian asks looking at him with heavy measure- with every ounce of desire he can muster. He sees a shadow pass over Garak’s face, the ridges seeming to darken in the dim light of the night’s hallway. He slips out of Julian grasp and gives him a deceptively pleasant smile before entering.
“That remains to be seen.”
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