First of all, sweet and I’m going with the book ending! Second of all, if I did go with the Disney film ending, does that mean there’s a Gaston-like character running around that’s battling for Julian’s affection? Because I am 100% down with this plot development. Especially if he’s super muscle-y but shorter than Garak.
OH AND THEN THERE’S A SONG THAT BREAKS OUT ABOUT HIM ON THE PROMENADE AND ALL THE BAJORANS JOIN IN AND JULIAN’S JUST LIKE, “wtf ever I need to finish this Cardassian epic for my conversation with Garak later”.
I like this. This is nice.
ANYWAY HERE’S YOUR ANGST.
Like The Old Stories
“The Cardassians upset the Prophets.”
Julian heard the Bajorans whisper that, and variations of it, across the promenade in pockets. He paid no mind. Anytime something happened on the station it was either in the hands or the Prophets or someone’s fault to some degree or another. The Federation was even blamed on a few instances. And with the wormhole in a constant open state and the edges of it beginning to fray, Julian knew something like this was bound to come up. It hardly merited much of a thought.
But as the day pressed on at the officers in ops recovered no answers for the strange phenomenon, Julian could hear the whispers become louder and louder. A few of the nurses in the infirmary commented on the growing belligerence and the increase in people that began to accumulate. Julian stared out at the promenade with growing anticipation of his own. Having them gather wasn’t a problem – if it was, Odo was likely to fix it – but there was something about the situation that just didn’t sit right with him. They were too loud, too restless, too unpredictable. He asked the nurses to prepare for any injuries and inventory their supplies, just in case.
The crowd moved after a short time and headed down the promenade. Julian watched them leave. He should’ve been thankful that they weren’t hovering near the infirmary but something about their walks, their words, their loudness marked an intent far too dark to be normal. Luckily, station security was following them. Good. At least they were aware.
Julian walked over to the main console and tried to busy himself. His thoughts, however, were on the mob, the growing restlessness, the wormhole. How long until it was fixed? How long until things settled again? How long until–
“Odo to Doctor Bashir.”
The changeling’s voice was stoic but he knew that if Odo was calling him, someone had gotten hurt.
“Go ahead.”
“I need you to come to Garak’s shop immediately. A mob of Bajorans came and attacked him because they believe the Prophets are angry about his presence on the station.”
Julian’s heart seized. His mouth opened. No words escaped. He grabbed a med-kit and finally forced his voice to say, “I’ll be right there,” before bolting from the infirmary.
He ran. It wasn’t unusual for Julian to run to an emergency but this was different. This was Garak, his longtime friend and lunch companion. Sure, he’d dealt with other serious injuries and moments before with others on the station but this was his friend. Like O’Brien. Yes, like O’Brien.
No. Not like O’Brien.
There was something else that lingered against his heart, something tangible, and yet for months, for years, it had no name, no sound, no bearing on his day-to-day experiences. He thought it was a friendly affection but with controlled panic surging through him, Julian understood. It wasn’t friendship. It was never friendship. Ever since the Cardassian’s hand touched his shoulder at their first meeting, it quit being about friendship. It wasn’t a platonic connection he wanted. No. It never had been.
Julian skidding against shoulders of Bajorans before he realized he’d made it to the mob. No hands reached out to him, no words were directed at him – both were directed towards the security that held them back and the Cardassian who Julian finally saw lying in the pool of his own blood with closed eyes and ragged breaths. Security let Julian through without a fight.
With quick but steady hands, Julian opened the med-kit, pulled out a medical tricorder, and scanned Garak’s body. His lungs, stomach, and heart were damaged. There was internal and external bleeding. Clearly a knife had been involved in the incident. The blood poured from several deep stab wounds that were littered across the man’s torso. He wasn’t conscious. He was barely breathing. Julian pressed his comm-badge with an intensity that likely bruised his chest.
“Bashir to ops,” he said, placing his hand on Garak, “Two to transport to the infirmary immediately.”
There were cries around him from the Bajoran mob. They were livid. But the cries died out as the surroundings of the infirmary appeared around him. Nurses came over immediately.
“Close the infirmary doors,” Julian said as they placed Garak onto one of the beds, “I want two of you outside but keep your distance. Don’t interfere, just be there to help if there are injuries. I need a dermal regenerator immediately.”
The nurses scattered around him. He heard the infirmary doors close. It didn’t hold back the angry cries of Bajorans, who walked onto the promenade with a fury that mirrored Julian’s own. He tried to quell his as his fingers worked to identify what areas needed the most work. However, the medical readings cried out as Garak’s body began to give, to crumble, to drift away. His heart stopped and his lungs went with it. No. No.
“Give me a cardiostimulator. Now!”
One was practically thrown into his hand. He placed it against Garak’s chest and set it off. Pause. Nothing. Again. Pause. Nothing. A third time. Nothing. A forth. A fifth. A sixth. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
He was gone.
Julian stared at Garak’s face. He looked peaceful. He would. He was probably delighted that something finally broke Julian’s optimism and his Federation heart. It was then, and only then, that he finally lost his professional air. He leaned over Garak’s body and sobbed. It lacked any bit of grace. He didn’t care. The nurses around him clearly didn’t either. A hand, so gentle, rubbed against his back in even, smooth strokes. No one in the infirmary spoke. Not one word.
Then a beep. Another. Another. A rhythm. More than. A heart.
Julian blinked, eased, leaned up, and opened his eyes. Garak was breathing. Garak was breathing.
“Doctor,” a nurse said. Julian stepped away from the bed. Immediately, the nurse took control. He would have, could have, but everyone in the room knew he was far too emotionally attached. Slowly, steadily, Julian eased to the main console, sat, and waited. It felt like hours, almost days, but finally they were done. The Bajoran nurse who commanded the team walked over to him.
“He’ll be fine,” she said. Julian sighed. “We can keep this between us. The breakdown, I mean.”
“No, it’s alright,” Julian said, “Besides, I’d like to write you and the rest of the time an exemplary report. You deserve it.”
The nurse smiled in her own polite way. Julian smiled in return and looked towards Garak. The Cardassian was still asleep, but from there, it was clear his respiration rate was perfectly fine. He’d check it in a few moments. His mind still wanted to roll over the events. The cardiostimulator didn’t work. Garak shouldn’t be alive. Really. But he was. A medical miracle if Julian ever heard of one. But what caused it? Surely not his crying, his tears. No. Couldn’t be.
“You know,” one of the Starfleet doctors said, gathering Julian’s wandering attention. Julian looked over. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was straight out of Beauty and the Beast.”
“What’s that?” the Bajoran nurse asked.
“An old fairy tale from Earth. I bet I could get my hands on a copy. It’s a great read.”
A great read. Julian stood and walked to Garak’s bed. He looked down at that resting face. He looked peaceful. Not a shard of beast to be seen. At least, not in Julian’s loving eyes.
Tag: odo
can you write a fluffy ds9 piece about the senior officers taking care of julian who gets de-aged to like 8 in some alien/accident thing
I have totally written one of these before but I’ve wanted to write another one so bad, omg, thank you for sending me this prompt! Also, the first one is sad-ish, so this gives me a chance to be happy with it. I’m making this a direct sequel to the first one, but I’m going to provide enough context so you don’t have to read the first one to get this one. c:
Six Adults And A Child
Ben woke to silence.
It was something he’d grown used to after Jake moved out, and he welcomed it with a soft smile. For a moment. Then he remembered that Jake’s old bedroom was occupied by a child: the de-aged Doctor Julian Bashir. He’d hoped the silence was due to the child, the self-proclaimed Jules, re-aging back to his thirty-three year old self, but as Ben’s awareness came back to him, he heard shuffling and other soft sounds that would never grace the feet of a grown man.
Ben rose from bed to take a look.
The moment he entered the main room of his quarters, Ben saw Jules. The boy was standing on one of the chairs at the dining table. Boxes of food, unopened, were strewn about it. Cabinets in the kitchen were open and emptied, it’s contents littering the table and part of the floor. Jules didn’t notice him at first. He was too busy stacking the boxes on the table like building blocks, each one perfectly aligned with the last.
“Jules?”
The boy jumped. His sudden jerk nudged the boxes over and they toppled across the table with some skittering onto chairs and others landing with graceless thumps on the floor. Wide brown eyes met Ben with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.
“What are you doing?” Ben asked. He was calm because, in truth, he was curious. Jake hadn’t done anything like this before.
Jules looked at the boxes and fussed with the front of the teal medical undershirt that was draped over him; one that once hung in Julian’s closet. The motion caused the sleeves of to unfold and cascade over Jules’s tiny hands.
“Stacking boxes,” Jules whispered.
“Why?”
Jules shrugged. Ben sighed. The poor kid. He was probably bored. They didn’t really have any toys for him to play with, despite a few kids living on the station, and they didn’t really want to invest in any. They were hoping Jules would be back to Julian in no time. Maybe a good toy outside of Jules’s bear wouldn’t hurt, especially since Kukalaka was now buried under the sea of boxes, it’s arm sticking out in a silent plea for help. That’s what Jules was looking at, Ben realized.
Ben walked around and picked up some of the boxes off the floor. He placed them on the table, away from the still but suffering bear. He fished Kukalaka out, moved some of the boxes from a chair, and placed the bear where those boxes had been.
“Well, if you’re going to do that, don’t drown your friend,” Ben said, handing Jules the stray boxes he took from the seat, “I’d hate for him to get hurt.”
Jules blinked up at him.
“You mean… it’s okay?” Jules asked.
“Of course it is,” Ben answered with a smile, “As long as you’re having fun.”
Jules smiled back.
“Now, I’m going to change and then make us some breakfast. You decide what you want to eat.”
Jules nodded. Ben ruffled the boy’s hair and returned to his bedroom, a small smile on his face. He changed into one of his many work uniforms and returned to the sitting room where Jules had started another tower of boxes. The boy, with his still messy brown hair, said he wanted something sweet. Ben opted for pancakes. As he started gathering the ingredients, the door chime went off.
“Come in,” Ben called.
The door opened and Jadzia Dax walked through. She was accompanied with a drowsiness that settled bags under her eyes but a smile was still plastered on her face. She was followed by Worf, who looked just as stoic and serious as ever.
“Sorry to bother you, Benjamin,” Jadzia said, “But I was hoping to check on Jules.”
“Be my guest. I was about to start breakfast. Do you two want to eat with us?”
“That will not be necessary,” Worf said. Jadzia looked back at him. There was a clear pout on her face, but she didn’t vocalize it. Worf watched that stare for a moment before looked back at Ben. “If you do not mind.”
“Not at all,” Ben answered. Any excuse to make a large meal was good enough for him. He could see the delight awaken Jadzia’s face before she crossed the room and went to Jules’s side.
“Good morning, Jules,” she said. “What are you doing?”
“Stacking boxes.”
“Can I join you?”
Ben saw Jules nod out of the corner of his eye as he started to gather up more ingredients. More than necessary for four. Then, he started making calls to the rest of the senior staff. He asked if they would be interested in having the meeting, and breakfast, in his quarters instead of ops. They all agreed. Ben had barely started preparing food before Odo showed up. Halfway through cooking, Kira and O’Brien joined them. By then, Jadzia and Jules constructed a box town square that took up the entire table surface. Ben gave a ten minute warning. Jules, Jadzia, and Odo helped stow the boxes away, the stretching arms of the changeling offering the most length and the most entertainment for Jules, who offered boxes just to see the arms sling forward and into the cabinets. By the time they were done, food was ready.
The settled around the dining table and ate breakfast with light conversation. Jules, though at the head of the table, wasn’t responsible for any of it. He was too busy enjoying his food, thankfully. No doubt the others felt the same way, save for Odo, who spent the breakfast experience watching them eat.
“Captain, I’ve been thinking,” O’Brien said, breaking the light conversation with his rather serious tone, “Maybe we ought to let Garak make Jules some clothes. It’s better than him running around in that shirt all day.”
“We don’t know how long he’s going to stay this way, Chief,” Kira said, “What if it’s only for a few hours?”
“What if it’s for a few days?” O’Brien countered, “Or a few weeks?”
Silence. Ben looked down at Jules. The boy hadn’t noticed their shift in conversation. He just continued to eat with his loyal bear settled in his lap.
“You’re right, Chief,” Ben said, “We should.”
“Captain–” Kira started. Ben looked at her.
“Look, I know we’re all working hard to get Doctor Bashir back but we also have to take care of Jules in the process. He can’t run around the station wearing a shirt that doesn’t fit and spend all of his time stacking boxes. He needs clothes of his own and some toys to play with. When Doctor Bashir comes back, I’m sure an orphanage on Bajor would be delighted to have the clothes and toys.”
The following silence was all the agreement Ben needed.
“Chief, once we’re done here, take Jules to see Garak. Tell him that the clothes don’t have to fit perfectly, they just need to be comfortable for Jules to wear.”
“Of course, Captain,” O’Brien answered.
“Major, can you ask people around the station for any spare toys suitable for someone Jules’s age? Anything will do.”
“Yes, sir,” Kira answered.
“Dax, I want you to focus on trying to figure out how to re-age Doctor Bashir. Everyone else, focus on your duties. I may ask you to take care of Jules in the middle of your shift, so be ready for that. Otherwise, it’s work as usual.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to have someone else take care of him?” Odo asked.
“Maybe, but he is a Starfleet officer and I think it would be better if Jules stayed in constant contact with at least one of us,” Ben answered. Odo seemed content with that. So did everyone else. All other protests weren’t voiced and breakfast continued. O’Brien and Odo were the first to leave and Jules went with them, his small frame carried in O’Brien’s arms. He waved goodbye to everyone in the room. So did Kukalaka, who was still tucked in Jules’s arms, though the bear needed assistance from the young boy to do so.
“Do you really think we can age him back?” Kira asked.
“If there’s a way, we’ll find it,” Ben answered, “And if there isn’t, we’ll make sure Jules has the best second childhood possible.”
my bravery is never foolish
requested by anon
could you maybe write some garashir about them taking care of an abandoned cardassian egg that somehow gets left in custody of the station
I wanted to write something cute, so that’s the aim here. I hope that’s alright. c:
Characters: Julian Bashir, Elim Garak, Odo, Benjamin Sisko
Yes, established Garashir. Also, Odo being concerned about babies for added cute levels.
Caretakers
“Sisko to Doctor Bashir.”
The voice from Julian’s commbadge made him jump. He’d been so focused on thumbing through his research that he hadn’t anticipated anyone would call for him, much less Captain Sisko.
“Yes, sir?” Julian said. He sounded normal enough. He doubted the Captain would notice how easily he was startled.
“Constable Odo and a Cardassian egg are being transported to the infirmary,” Sisko said, “He and Dax recovered it from a Cardassian shuttle that crashed on a Class-L planet. I need you to make sure it and the child inside are alright.”
“Of course, sir.”
Prompted Writing: “Animals”
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Julian Bashir, Odo, Other Changelings, Elim Garak, Kira Nerys, Benjamin SiskoPrompt:
Note to dog sitter: Thank you so much for watching my dog, Bruce. He’s really is a great dog. Breakfast at 730a. Dinner at 630p. Into his crate at 9p sharp! Stick to these strict times and all will be well. No matter what he says or does, he is not to be trusted. I’ll be home in a week. [x] + The character (A) takes in a stray dog. After a couple of days, the dog grabs an important possession of the character’s in its mouth and takes off with A in pursuit. A ends up in a curious place, surrounded by roaming cats, dogs, birds, squirrels, rabbits, and other small critters. Suddenly, the animals begin to shift to human form. They block all exits. [x]
Julian was desperate for money. That was the only reason he considered the dog sitting position.
He’d found the advertisement for the job online, intermingled with other dog and cat sitting jobs. It paid around the same, but the dog owner, Mr. Krajensky, offered more pictures of his rather modest home and stated that it was best for the sitter to stay at the house for the week. It seemed a little too good to be true, but Julian reached out anyway. He needed the money and a place to stay for a few days wouldn’t hurt either.
Over the phone, Mr. Krajensky seemed like a polite, kind man. They hit it off immediately. Julian offered to meet Krajensky in person, but the man said that it wasn’t necessary. He could tell Julian could be trusted. Although Julian himself wouldn’t trust a stranger with his pet and house alone, he did find the trust comforting. Maybe it was a cultural thing. He was in a different country, after all. It could also be a personal thing. Maybe Mr. Krajensky offered this position before and had experience picking out the good from the bad. Whatever the case, Julian was given the position and told to be at the house the next morning. The door would be unlocked.
Julian arrived as requested. Mr. Krajensky was gone. The note left on the end table next to the front door stated that he’d left only an hour prior for his flight and provided Julian with times for meals, a walking schedule, when Krajensky would be returning, where Julian could sleep, that all the food was free for him to eat, and then a rather odd warning:
No matter what Bruce says or does, he is not to be trusted.
Prompted Writing: “Contact”
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Julian Bashir, Elim Garak, Odo
Established GarashirPrompt: One day the heating system in Deep Space Nine shuts down for a few hours. Miles manages to trap some of the heat within the station so people don’t freeze to death, but it’s recommended that everyone stay in close proximity to others so there’s more heat in one place. Even though others can wear extra layers and stick to the promenade and be fine, Garak is forced to find heat through different means. He practically latches himself onto every humanoid mammal in the place until someone finally drags him to Julian and they cuddle in the infirmary while Julian works. [x]
Again with the self-prompting.Admittedly, the station did feel colder than normal.
Julian caught a few of his nurses shivering as they continued their work. It wasn’t severe; Bajorans were rather resilient when it came to the cold, much like humans. He did, though, let them get jackets from their quarters if they wanted. Less professional, yes, but perfectly understandable, given the heating system being down across the entire station. About half of them took him up of the offer. He didn’t blame them.
Luckily, despite the malfunctioning heating system, the infirmary was empty aside from the staff. A good, slow day. Julian stood at the main console and started thumbing through some research a team of botanists, including Keiko O’Brien, picked up on plants somewhere on Bajor. He was only searching for possible medicinal purposes. So far, there was nothing amazing to report. He was hoping that would change.
“Doctor,” a voice called from the door to the infirmary. So much for his research.
Julian turned and spotted Odo in the doorway, his arms crossed and a rather placid yet stern look stretched across his face. Next to him was Garak. The Cardassian had his own arms crossed.
“I believe this is yours,” Odo said. Julian stepped towards them.
Prompted Writing: “Shelter”
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Odo, QuarkPrompt:
“The next time you’ll stand in front of my house at 3 AM because you need a place to hide don’t expect me to open the door.” [x]
It was 3AM – 3:12, to be precise – and his door chime wouldn’t stop ringing.
Odo was tempted to stay in bed. He had to be at the precinct in the morning and he needed the sleep. Desperately. But as the chime kept ringing without pause for another two minutes, Odo’s resolve dissipated. His anger, though, rose. He climbed out of bed with a grumble and stopped over to his front door. He practically pulled the thing off of it’s hinges jerking it open. His anger didn’t lessen with the reveal of the person on the other side.
Quark, Odo’s far too troublesome business district informant, looked at him with a mix of relief and frustration from his porch.
“Odo,” Quark said, “I need a place to stay.”
Prompted Writing: “0346 Hours”
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Odo, Julian BashirPrompt:
“Every time I fall asleep, I wake up at exactly 3:46 AM. You’re spending the night and helping me find out why.” [x]
“I’m sorry I’ve bothered you with this.”
Doctor Bashir looked at embarrassed as he sounded. His soft voice was matched with a red that skittered under his tanned cheeks. Odo observed a similar, though muted, version of this expression during their conversation that morning. Bashir’s feelings hadn’t changed then. Odo certainly couldn’t fault him for that.
The Doctor could easily ask for help if it involved saving a patient’s life, but asking for someone to check what was waking him up at precisely 0346 hours was a completely different matter. Odo would find asking for such help unsettling too, but Doctor Bashir had been woken up at the same time every night for a week and a half. He had no medical explanation for it, Chief O’Brien had no engineering explanation for it, and Garak assured the Doctor, and later Odo himself, that there was nothing in the Doctor’s room, planted or otherwise, that would stir the Doctor to a woken state. Yet, the Doctor wasn’t getting the sleep he needed and each day brought with it more and more exhaustion. Even people unaware of the situation were beginning to voice their concerns. It was a mystery. One that Odo intended to get to the bottom of.
Odo was the one that suggested the night over. There was some resistance from Doctor Bashir at first but eventually he agreed. Yet, he was still apologetic for any inconveniences the situation brought. No doubt that feeling extended to O’Brien and Garak. And they, too, likely didn’t mind. After all, Doctor Bashir had helped them all a number of times in the past. This was a chance to return the favor.
“It’s fine, Doctor,” Odo assured him, “Even if this isn’t a security problem, I want to investigate the matter fully.”
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine – 02×05 “Cardassians”
Odo and Quark team up to mess with O’Brien and Bashir
Best enemies.
There's a Mirror on the Wall 