Work Text:
"You really shouldn't have come," Julian grumbled.
"Yes, yes. So you've said." Garak couldn't quite keep the peevish edge out of his tone, in spite of everything. "And yet here I am."
There was a long silence mostly punctuated by Julian's still-labored breathing.
"I'm sorry," Julian muttered finally. His arm was slung over his eyes, covering the dark circles and the gray pallor of his face. He didn't quite look Cardassian, but entirely too much so for Garak's taste at the moment. "I just…the negotiations."
"They are proceeding perfectly well without me, as I knew they would," said Garak. "The hospital is overtaxed and it's safer for you to be here, under my care. We've discussed this many times. I'm immune to the St'entik fever -"
"So are the rest of the Cardassian hospital staff!"
"But the Bajorans and the many of the Federation volunteers are not," said Garak firmly.
"I know," Julian groaned, rolling over in bed. "God. I know. You don't have to tell me again."
Garak went to the replicator for another iced Tarkalean tea before he made a snide remark he would regret. Julian was ill, he was miserable, and his purpose right now was not to stroke Garak's ego. His only purpose was to get well.
He knew that it was driving Julian to distraction, being unable to help, not even able to set foot in the hospital without risking the health of half the staff. They were all wildly lucky that the standard PPE to prevent the spread of the freezing flu, which Julian only wore to set a good example since humans were not a known vector of transmission, seemed to have also kept his St'entik fever contained until he became symptomatic. But now, even if he had the strength to do his rounds, he would not have been allowed. The fever only became more contagious in the middle and late stages, and even though he did the work of five doctors, it was simply too great of a risk to take.
Garak returned with the tea and set it on the bedside table.
"Thank you," Julian managed to croak before another coughing fit set in.
The misery and despair that Garak was just barely holding back began to well up in his chest, but he stubbornly swallowed it down.
"It's time for your antihistamines," he said as lightly as he could. "Do you -"
"I can make it there myself," Julian exhaled, dragging himself upright with surprising fluidity. He winced when his feet hit the ground.
Just to add insult to injury, the standard treatment for Ste'entik had triggered an allergic reaction that seemed to be unique to human biology, or perhaps Julian was just unlucky. He had broken out in hives that covered even the soles of his feet, making it painful to walk. Still, for the past few days he had refused Garak's help in getting to the 'fresher. He certainly seemed stronger now, but that only made him more frustrated at his slow recovery overall.
Parmak had worked with him to develop a different treatment, which they were now administering along with a strong dose of antihistamines to temper the hives. It was powerful enough to put even an augmented human to sleep for several hours. This was somewhat of a relief - he'd been having trouble sleeping through the cough at the outset - but Garak was beginning to run mad. Sitting by his bedside, only half paying attention to any correspondence that wasn't a direct message from Lang herself. Anything less than a seriously ill Julian Bashir would never have dragged him away from the negotiations that sought to normalize trade relations with Bajor, but, well.
This too, of course, was a way of serving Cardassia. Dr. Bashir was an important asset at one of her most important hospitals. Sometimes, Garak could almost convince himself that was the reason for his vigil.
In truth, he could have easily hired someone to look in on Julian. He didn't even need round-the-clock care anymore. But Garak felt that same pull to this very bedside that he had once felt towards his home planet. Simply to be here, doing whatever he could, was reason enough.
Julian returned to bed, and Garak readied the hypospray. It was interesting, he thought, that the doctor no longer insisted on administering every medication himself. He closed his eyes and let Garak inject him instead, before curling up on his side to sleep once more.
The soft wheezing of his breath, the angry welts across his skin, it was all too much to stare at for long. Once he was certain Julian had gone to sleep, Garak went downstairs to the kitchen and busied himself with nothing of consequence. He wasn't sure how long he had been standing with the same plate in his hand when there was a soft knock at the door, and he nearly jumped out of his scales at the realization that someone had managed to pass through the garden without him noticing.
"It's only me," Parmak said when Garak yanked the door open, a phaser in his other hand. He set it aside before stepping back to allow the Cardassian doctor in.
Parmak still wouldn't look him in the eyes, but the fact that he'd step into Garak's home like it was nothing - well, he never thought they would be here again. It was a good sign, he thought, for the new Cardassia.
Parmak set a basket down on the rough-hewn table. "Before you thank me, a few of Dr. Bashir's staff made most of this. I told them he probably wouldn't have much of an appetite for a while, but most of it is food that will keep. And as for the rest, well."
"Well?" Garak prompted.
"When's the last time you ate something, Elim?"
Garak now found himself the one unable to meet Parmak's eyes. "That hardly matters."
"Hmmph." The basket was duly unpacked, and Garak realized the vessel itself was likely leaving with Parmak. He should have known - that would be too generous of a gift. It didn't look replicated.
"Is he sleeping?" Parmak asked.
Garak felt himself bristle. "Yes. Why?"
A hint of a smile. "I was only going to suggest that you get some rest while you can. I'm certain he'll wake you if he needs you."
"I'm less certain of that," Garak said. "But I will take your suggestion under advisement."
"You want to be useful to him," Parmak said. It wasn't phrased as a question. "You won't be much use if you're not rested and fed."
"Thank you, Kelas."
"Don't mention it."
When he was gone, Garak triple-locked the door and set his alarm. Parmak was right - he did need rest, and it was quite likely that the lack of it had contributed to his lax surveillance. Carefully, he double-checked all the window locks before retiring upstairs with a slice of larish pie.
Julian was installed in the guest room, and Garak could have easily slept in his own bed across the hall. But he sat in his usual chair, picking at his food and waiting for something he could not name.
***
Garak awoke suddenly, with a painful crick in his neck and the sensation of pins and needles in leg. He hadn't really intended to sleep here, but it seemed he'd drifted off anyway.
Julian had propped himself up on a few pillows and was watching him, his eyes unnervingly dark in the dimmed room.
"I'm sorry," Garak heard himself say. "Did you need something?"
Julian shook his head. "I just…" He stopped here to let out a small, wet cough. "I'm grateful. I am. But why are you doing this?"
It was not a question Garak had expected, and not one he was prepared to answer. But that had never stopped him before. "You were sick. You needed someone. I'm quite certain, Doctor, that you would do the same for me."
"So this is a quid pro quo thing, is that it?" There was a little smile on his pale lips.
"No," Garak insisted. "I don't know what answer you're searching for, but when I heard you were seriously ill, there was no thought in my mind but to come here. To do whatever I could for your recovery. And I am glad to be here."
"Oh, I can tell you're overjoyed." A little huff of laughter that quickly turned into another cough. "I'm sorry. I know this…I know this isn't easy."
"That is hardly relevant," Garak replied, feeling a sharp twinge of humiliation at the idea that he hadn't hidden his distress well enough. "I only hope you're aware that any…sense of unease you've noticed merely rises from my concern for your wellbeing."
"I'll be fine," Julian said. "I'm out of the woods now. Even Parmak said so when he looked at my latest vital readings, and I'm pretty sure he only called you in the first place because he thought I was dying."
"He certainly led me to believe there was serious cause for concern. But he didn't seem to be alone in that belief."
"Well, it's always hard to predict what an augmented immune system will do. Sometimes it does more harm than good. I got lucky." Another hollow smile. "To a point."
The air between them was heavy with everything unspoken.
"I am unfathomably thankful that you've survived," Garak said. "And I will insist that you stay here until you're well enough to return to work."
"That's very kind of you." Julian's eyes slowly traced their way around the objects in the room, like he was really taking in his surroundings for the first time. "You have a lovely home."
"Thank you. I…had hoped to invite you under better circumstances."
"Had you?"
"Yes," said Garak firmly. "I had every intention."
"It's been two years, Garak."
"I know."
"I realize you've been busy, but -" He stopped, coughed deeply, and shook his head. His eyes were watering, and he had to take a long swallow of tea before he could continue. "Forget it. I'm - it's stupid."
"It isn't," Garak insisted gently. "You made it very clear that you wanted to see me. To continue our…"
Julian let him drift off, and did not attempt to rescue him.
"I am sorry that I left you waiting," Garak said finally. "It was…"
"It's fine," Julian said. "I would never - I know I'm not entitled to your time. I know Cardassia is more important. I know all that. But you've got me here when I'm miserable, and bored, and covered in hives, so I'll admit it - I felt jilted. Yeah, it's selfish and unfair. But I did. And I do. And I'm starting to resent that I had to start dying for you to come and see me."
He winced a little after he spoke, either out of surprise that he'd said it out loud, or the fact that it still hurt to talk. Possibly both.
Garak's heart throbbed in his chest like an infected wound. He was momentarily struck dumb, the warring sensations of guilt and astonishment vying for supremacy in his mind.
"I'm sorry," he said almost without thinking. "I am sorry, Julian, you have no idea how…"
Julian waved his hand in a gently dismissive gesture. "I know. I know. It's alright, like I said, I know. I understand. Just forget it, I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, Julian, I -" Garak held up a hand, desperate to be understood. "I don't want to forget it. I hadn't…" He had to pause here, trying to find the right words in his brain like he was wading through the sucking mudflats of the eastern shore. "I did not…it seemed foolish to believe that my time and attention was truly something you wanted. Regardless of how much evidence there was to the contrary."
Julian let out a little groaning laugh, and this time he didn't cough, which seemed promising. "You're ridiculous, Garak."
It was hardly the reaction he'd been expecting, though it was perhaps nearly as damning as he deserved.
A moment later he realized Julian was extending his hand, reaching out for him. His arm still lay flat on the bed, but his palm was up and he looked at Garak with an expression that made the tailor's heart stick in his throat.
He went to the bed, and sat carefully, gingerly, though there was plenty of room without disturbing the invalid. Carefully, not meeting Julian's eyes, he took the proffered hand.
It was so warm .
At first Julian's hand was limp in his grasp, but soon enough he'd twined his fingers between Garak's (surely just a natural human impulse, he wasn't thinking of the Cardassian implications, he couldn't - he wouldn't - it was too much to hope, even now) and then he was tugging, insistently, until Garak was half-laying on the bed beside him, and then Julian pulled Garak's arm around him and there was no halfway about it.
There was the warmth of him of course, the smell of him, the same but different, tinged with a medicinal edge and the sour undertones of sickness. But the familiar musk and spice and sweetness was still there, just as it always had been. Just like the day they met.
***
Garak woke slowly at first, then started to attention when he realized he was not in his own bed. He had once again fallen asleep, but this time with Julian , in Julian's bed - and how long had he been thinking of that guest bed as Julian's bed? If he was honest with himself (a dangerous thing to be sure) it had probably been for much longer than the man himself had ever occupied it. (To fantasize about sharing a bed with the man, that was certainly too foolishly indulgent - but to imagine him here, as a guest? Perhaps even for a week, a month, a year? Garak had allowed himself that weakness.)
But at the moment the man himself was not there, which was concerning under the circumstances. Garak rose and went to look for him, but he didn't have far to go.
Julian had found the bathtub. Of course it was not the first time he'd occupied it, but it was the first time he had gone alone. It was housed in a separate room from the 'fresher, which did not have water settings, only sonic. The water tub had been an indulgence when Garak installed it, but one he justified to himself because he was prone to difficult shedding cycles, and nothing loosened stubborn scales quite like a good soak.
It had become useful for a different reason since Julian arrived, and for once Garak was grateful for his own weakness.
Julian was looking a little less alarmingly gray, and his head was above the water, which alleviated Garak's primary anxiety in letting him bathe himself. Though his eyes were closed, he didn't look asleep. Garak was fairly confident that he'd already been heard, but he cleared his throat anyway before taking a seat on the stool he had placed next to the tub when Julian first arrived.
"You know, for the first few days I thought I might be hallucinating the baths," Julian mumbled. "It seemed a little too luxurious. A little too good to be true."
"It's good of you to pretend to be unaware of my shameful tendencies towards hedonism, Julian."
Those beautiful eyes opened just a sliver. "It's Julian now, is it? My impending death really changed you."
There was still bitterness there, but Garak could allow him that. His own rancor had faded with time, and he hadn't realized it until he went searching for it in his chest and found it had been replaced with a sweet sort of sadness, now tinged with hope.
He really had changed. The ghost of Enabran Tain grew smaller, quieter with each passing year. These days he could almost believe himself capable of someday becoming a man worthy of the attentions of Julian Bashir.
"I hope I'll continue to surprise you," Garak heard himself say.
Julian's lips twitched into a little smile. "I suppose we'll find out, won't we?"
Something in Garak's chest bloomed open so violently that he almost had to catch his next breath.
"Yes," he said. "I suppose we will."