Fic: Longing for Ease (Garak/Bashir)
Title: Longing for Ease
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Summary: Garak's toes curl when he sleeps. Julian sees Garak every day, but his absence is noticeable.
Characters: Garak/Bashir, Odo, O'Brien
Rating: PG
Length: ~1100
Beta: lady_drace
Spoilers: Through 4.26 "Broken Link"
Author's Notes: Written for the ever lovely lady_drace who was only too delighted at the prospect of tempting me back to the dark side writing G/B, and gave me the prompt 'curl'.
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
“That hunger of the flesh, that longing for ease, that terror of incarceration, that insistence on tribal honour being obeyed: all of that exists, and it exists everywhere.”
- Ben Kingsley
o o o o o
Garak's toes curl when he sleeps. Julian never knew that before, but then he supposes he's never had rhyme nor reason to know what Garak's digits do when he is at rest.
Until now, that is. Now is six months in a holding cell behind Odo's office. Now is knowing first hand for the first time just what his lunch companion is capable of. Third party station rumours and Odo's reports of ill-fated excursions into the Gamma Quadrant are nothing compared to this.
As Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Nine, Julian is directly responsible for the medical care of all the long-term prisoners in Odo's custody. At current count, there are two such people; a Tellarite, awaiting extradition back into Federation territory over some plot or another, and Garak. The Tellarite is susceptible to the lower temperatures on the station, more so than other hot-blooded species, and if she falls ill it will risk halting the legal process. Julian needs to monitor her condition twice a day, which he chooses to do in person rather than via a comm. link or computer readings, and as a result he sees Garak more than he ever did while they were lunch companions.
Garak doesn't see him. On each occasion that Julian has come to the cells to check on the Tellarite, he has found Garak to be sitting on the floor of his cell, legs outstretched in front of him, hands folded neatly in his lap and although his head is rigidly held upright, his eyes remain closed. Julian has long given up expecting a response to his greeting, or an answer to his unspoken question of what Garak thinks about.
Perhaps he is dreaming of wide, open spaces, or some Cardassian fantasy. He once very briefly wondered whether Garak was mentally repenting for what he had attempted to do with the Defiant's weapons, but had instantly chided himself for the naïvety.
So now he doesn't think about it - as much as he can not think about anything - except that today, when he passes through Odo's office to check on the Tellarite, he notices immediately that something is not quite right in Garak's cell.
He is sleeping, curled up on the slightly too small bench. His shoes are set neatly beside him, and Julian can see his bare feet - and the toes, curled slightly against what to Garak is a slightly chilly atmosphere.
The Tellarite's health appears to be holding out for another day and satisfied that everything is in order with her for another thirteen hours, Julian pauses in front of Garak's cell. Sleep comes so rarely to his friend at the best of times - if he has learned nothing else from the business with the wire, that stays with him - and he is loathe to even whisper his perfunctory greeting lest he interrupt something Garak needs, even incarcerated like this.
So he says nothing, and leaves through Odo's office again. The Constable is sat at his desk, reviewing reports from the last duty shift, and while he doesn't openly acknowledge Julian's presence, it would be impossible for him to be unaware of the fact.
“Doctor.” Odo interrupts him before he can leave the office and return to his own space.
Julian turns around. “Yes, Constable?”
“I've been informed by Starfleet Command that a science vessel will be passing by Deep Space Nine tomorrow, and the ship's captain has agreed to transport the Tellarite to the Agretian system to stand trial. They'll be here at 0800 and I'd appreciate it if you were here in person to brief your counterpart on her medical supervision to date.”
“Of course,” Julian nods. “0800 it is.”
He and Miles meet for dinner that night, as they have done twice a week since that last mission to the Gamma Quadrant. Julian knows that Miles is trying to overcompensate for Garak's absence, among other things, and he is glad of the distraction. The Klingon restaurant is branching out at the moment, attempting to fuse traditional Klingon fare with Andorian influences. It tastes better than it sounds.
Julian lets Miles' chatter wash over him; it's nothing he didn't hear that morning at breakfast, or from the nurses throughout the day - just idle gossip and the latest goings-on in the Alpha Quadrant at large, nothing world-shatteringly important. Despite his best intentions he can't even pretend he's paying attention, really, but he nods in all the right places which appeases Miles. It's still better than eating alone.
He misses it, he realises later when he's walking back to his quarters; the debates, the arguments. The back-and-forth that never fails to keep Julian on his toes - that never fails to keep him guessing. His off-duty darts games and holodeck adventures with Miles don't compare to a single sitting arguing over obscure Cardassian or Terran literature, and why should they? Julian treasures the time spent with each of his friends for different reasons, but he keeps forgetting that he can't directly substitute the company of one man for another.
Garak's toes curl when he sleeps. Julian can't decide whether that's something he should be privy to or not, or even if Garak would care that he'd seen him vulnerable enough to take in that kind of detail. There's too much going on in his mind at the moment; day-to-day responsibilities on DS9 and an increasing pressure to understand Founder biology and oh - the small matter of an all out war looming. Julian knows deep down that it's only a matter of time now and he hates that he knows that.
He pushes all thought of Garak out of his mind - or as much as he can at any given time - and tries to sleep, but he ends up lying on his back wide awake, staring up at the ceiling. In the morning he and Odo will hand over the Tellarite terrorist for trial and imprisonment. Garak will be there, incarcerated behind a forcefield and other invisible barriers that provoke strange behaviour that Julian doesn't understand. Maybe he'll challenge Julian about his lack of greeting earlier. More likely, he'll continue his silent self-imprisonment on the floor of the cell, continuing some unspoken challenge for Julian to find an explanation, the missing pieces of the puzzle - and maybe he'll stop being so damned egotistical. Not everything that Garak does comes back to Julian. He can't see that it ever will. That's why Garak's in the cell with his curling toes, and Julian's in bed, using every trick he can think of to stop thinking long enough to get to sleep.
It doesn't work.
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Summary: Garak's toes curl when he sleeps. Julian sees Garak every day, but his absence is noticeable.
Characters: Garak/Bashir, Odo, O'Brien
Rating: PG
Length: ~1100
Beta: lady_drace
Spoilers: Through 4.26 "Broken Link"
Author's Notes: Written for the ever lovely lady_drace who was only too delighted at the prospect of tempting me back to the dark side writing G/B, and gave me the prompt 'curl'.
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
“That hunger of the flesh, that longing for ease, that terror of incarceration, that insistence on tribal honour being obeyed: all of that exists, and it exists everywhere.”
- Ben Kingsley
o o o o o
Garak's toes curl when he sleeps. Julian never knew that before, but then he supposes he's never had rhyme nor reason to know what Garak's digits do when he is at rest.
Until now, that is. Now is six months in a holding cell behind Odo's office. Now is knowing first hand for the first time just what his lunch companion is capable of. Third party station rumours and Odo's reports of ill-fated excursions into the Gamma Quadrant are nothing compared to this.
As Chief Medical Officer of Deep Space Nine, Julian is directly responsible for the medical care of all the long-term prisoners in Odo's custody. At current count, there are two such people; a Tellarite, awaiting extradition back into Federation territory over some plot or another, and Garak. The Tellarite is susceptible to the lower temperatures on the station, more so than other hot-blooded species, and if she falls ill it will risk halting the legal process. Julian needs to monitor her condition twice a day, which he chooses to do in person rather than via a comm. link or computer readings, and as a result he sees Garak more than he ever did while they were lunch companions.
Garak doesn't see him. On each occasion that Julian has come to the cells to check on the Tellarite, he has found Garak to be sitting on the floor of his cell, legs outstretched in front of him, hands folded neatly in his lap and although his head is rigidly held upright, his eyes remain closed. Julian has long given up expecting a response to his greeting, or an answer to his unspoken question of what Garak thinks about.
Perhaps he is dreaming of wide, open spaces, or some Cardassian fantasy. He once very briefly wondered whether Garak was mentally repenting for what he had attempted to do with the Defiant's weapons, but had instantly chided himself for the naïvety.
So now he doesn't think about it - as much as he can not think about anything - except that today, when he passes through Odo's office to check on the Tellarite, he notices immediately that something is not quite right in Garak's cell.
He is sleeping, curled up on the slightly too small bench. His shoes are set neatly beside him, and Julian can see his bare feet - and the toes, curled slightly against what to Garak is a slightly chilly atmosphere.
The Tellarite's health appears to be holding out for another day and satisfied that everything is in order with her for another thirteen hours, Julian pauses in front of Garak's cell. Sleep comes so rarely to his friend at the best of times - if he has learned nothing else from the business with the wire, that stays with him - and he is loathe to even whisper his perfunctory greeting lest he interrupt something Garak needs, even incarcerated like this.
So he says nothing, and leaves through Odo's office again. The Constable is sat at his desk, reviewing reports from the last duty shift, and while he doesn't openly acknowledge Julian's presence, it would be impossible for him to be unaware of the fact.
“Doctor.” Odo interrupts him before he can leave the office and return to his own space.
Julian turns around. “Yes, Constable?”
“I've been informed by Starfleet Command that a science vessel will be passing by Deep Space Nine tomorrow, and the ship's captain has agreed to transport the Tellarite to the Agretian system to stand trial. They'll be here at 0800 and I'd appreciate it if you were here in person to brief your counterpart on her medical supervision to date.”
“Of course,” Julian nods. “0800 it is.”
He and Miles meet for dinner that night, as they have done twice a week since that last mission to the Gamma Quadrant. Julian knows that Miles is trying to overcompensate for Garak's absence, among other things, and he is glad of the distraction. The Klingon restaurant is branching out at the moment, attempting to fuse traditional Klingon fare with Andorian influences. It tastes better than it sounds.
Julian lets Miles' chatter wash over him; it's nothing he didn't hear that morning at breakfast, or from the nurses throughout the day - just idle gossip and the latest goings-on in the Alpha Quadrant at large, nothing world-shatteringly important. Despite his best intentions he can't even pretend he's paying attention, really, but he nods in all the right places which appeases Miles. It's still better than eating alone.
He misses it, he realises later when he's walking back to his quarters; the debates, the arguments. The back-and-forth that never fails to keep Julian on his toes - that never fails to keep him guessing. His off-duty darts games and holodeck adventures with Miles don't compare to a single sitting arguing over obscure Cardassian or Terran literature, and why should they? Julian treasures the time spent with each of his friends for different reasons, but he keeps forgetting that he can't directly substitute the company of one man for another.
Garak's toes curl when he sleeps. Julian can't decide whether that's something he should be privy to or not, or even if Garak would care that he'd seen him vulnerable enough to take in that kind of detail. There's too much going on in his mind at the moment; day-to-day responsibilities on DS9 and an increasing pressure to understand Founder biology and oh - the small matter of an all out war looming. Julian knows deep down that it's only a matter of time now and he hates that he knows that.
He pushes all thought of Garak out of his mind - or as much as he can at any given time - and tries to sleep, but he ends up lying on his back wide awake, staring up at the ceiling. In the morning he and Odo will hand over the Tellarite terrorist for trial and imprisonment. Garak will be there, incarcerated behind a forcefield and other invisible barriers that provoke strange behaviour that Julian doesn't understand. Maybe he'll challenge Julian about his lack of greeting earlier. More likely, he'll continue his silent self-imprisonment on the floor of the cell, continuing some unspoken challenge for Julian to find an explanation, the missing pieces of the puzzle - and maybe he'll stop being so damned egotistical. Not everything that Garak does comes back to Julian. He can't see that it ever will. That's why Garak's in the cell with his curling toes, and Julian's in bed, using every trick he can think of to stop thinking long enough to get to sleep.
It doesn't work.