Icon from a picrew by grgikau. Call me Tir or Julian. 37. He/They. Queer. Twitter: @tirlaeyn. ao3: tirlaeyn. 18+ Only. Star Trek. Sandman. IwtV. OMFD. Definitionless in this Strict Atmosphere.
“Doctor
Bashir, I …” Garak stops just inside the room as soon as he sees the doctor
curled together on the couch. He has his eyes closed and a teddy bear pressed
against his chest. He has answered Garak’s knock, but now he doesn’t react to
his presence.
“Doctor?”
Worried about this unusual behaviour, Garak approaches. It is a show of
vulnerability that is unsettling.
“Garak, what
can I do for you?” The doctor opens his eyes and at the same time pulls the
teddy bear closer.
Garak has
forgotten what he has wanted, his worry overriding all other thoughts. “My
dear, what happened?”
With a sigh,
the doctor closes his eyes. “I lost a patient.”
Garak hasn’t
heard about any deaths but that doesn’t mean anything. It could’ve been a
natural death that wasn’t noteworthy. For him. It is, of course, important for
the doctor.
Seeing the
doctor this miserable makes Garak insecure. Doctor Bashir is rarely earnest. It
isn’t uncommon for Garak to be irritated because the doctor goes through life
as if it is a game to him. But not today.
Unsure how
to react, Garak sits down on the couch, at the doctor’s legs. The doctor scoots
a bit back to make room for Garak.
“I am sorry
to hear that.” Not that Garak is sorry that some unknown person died, he
couldn’t care less, but he is sorry that the doctor is sad about it. He doesn’t
know how to deal with a sad doctor. He waits and when he gets no reaction, he
puts one hand on the doctor’s hip, drawing small circles with his thumb. It is
too intimate, but he is at a loss about what to do instead. He could leave but
that would be about the shittiest thing he could do.
The doctor
doesn’t seem to mind the intimacy of the touch, instead he slowly relaxes.
Until he sighs again and opens his eyes. A wry smile curls his lips. “Sometimes
it upsets me more when someone dies. Our technology is so advanced, we can cure
diseases we couldn’t hundred years ago but of course there are things we are
helpless against. It is normal, people have to die, we can’t hope to live
forever. Yet it is difficult to accept at times. Can you tell me about your
day, please?”
Garak has
always kept some distance between him and the doctor. Yes, he has flirted but
mostly because he has been sure that the doctor wouldn’t recognize it as
flirting anyway. It has worked, until today. This show of trust, this show of
vulnerability from the doctor, it crumbles all walls Garak has built to keep
him away.
It burns
through his body and consumes his heart in an instant. The doctor’s smile is
etched into his memory until he is sure he will never forget the way he cuddles
a teddy bear to his chest. He lets Garak see his pain and he doesn’t shy away
from it. And Garak is helpless, he is simply not able to keep the doctor at a
distance when he is sad and in need of comfort. Comfort he clearly wants from
Garak, of all people. “Of course, my dear.” He smiles, though the doctor can’t
see it because he has already closed his eyes again. “It has been an
exceptionally exciting day.” It hasn’t. None of his days are exciting anymore
but sometimes Garak has to admit that he is glad about it. “When the first
costumer entered my shop, when I had just opened a minute ago, I knew they
would bring nothing but trouble.” Garak weaves a story, a story about spies and
machinations, one he knows the doctor will enjoy, but one with a happy ending.
Some of the
aspects are happenings from Garak’s past, but definitely not the happy ending.
Nothing of what Garak has experienced during his life has ever had a truly
happy ending. But he is aware that the doctor wouldn’t like to hear about death
and defeat in his current mood. And so he doesn’t tell the truth. Not even
barely. While he talks, he leaves his hand resting on the doctor’s hip.
While he
talks, the doctor shifts closer until he is curled around Garak, warm against
his sides and back.
While he
talks, all tension leaves the doctor’s shoulders and the sadness vanishes from
his features.
While he
talks, the light dims a little, telling him that it is evening for the doctor
and creating a comfortable atmosphere.
When he has
finished the story, the doctor smiles. He turns his upper body and looks at
Garak. “You know, you are astonishingly good in telling stories. You could make
a book out of this one, a book even humans would like.” His smile widens.
“Thank you.”
Garak has
made his story likeable for humans, because the doctor doesn’t particularly
care for the cardassian style. He knows his taste after so many shared lunches
with discussions over literature.
“This was
not merely a story. You asked me to tell you about my day and I did.”
The doctor
chuckles softly. “Garak, if you experienced all this today, then something is
seriously wrong. With you, with Deep Space 9 and with everyone else here.”
They sit/lie
there and stare at each other until Garak becomes uncomfortable. This is too
intimate for his liking. He needs to get the walls back up that keeps the
doctor at a safe distance. He stands up and tugs at his shirt, to keep his
hands busy, not because he has to.
The doctor
sits up and puts the teddy bear next to him on the couch. “I guess you wanted
to fetch me. For dinner. If you don’t mind that it is a little late, we can
still go.”
Garak minds.
He’d rather get to his quarters and push the doctor out of his thoughts. But
since he can’t possibly tell him that and since there is still a trace of his
vulnerability left, Garak agrees.
That is a
mistake. He knows it when they sit down and the doctor’s smile is warmer than
usual and when he immediately responds with a genuine smile of his own. Garak
has left the stage of flirting behind him, the only thing he wants to do now is
have the doctor curled around him like earlier. He frowns at his own
emotionality but when the doctor begins to talk, all cheerfulness and smiles,
he is captured by it immediately. He supposes there is no use in trying to push
his feelings away now anymore. It has been effective before, when the doctor
hasn’t been in every fibre of Garak’s being but it will be impossible to push
him out now that he has broken down all of Garak’s defences.
The doctor
has snuck his way into Garak’s heart, unintentionally, and once there Garak has
no chance of getting rid of him again. It is fine, he thinks when he watches
the doctor and finds himself happy about being here, with him. It has been a
long time since he liked someone as much as he likes the doctor. He’ll simply
roll with it and enjoy the sensation. Because it does feel nice, even though he
doesn’t think there will come anything from it. It is nice nonetheless.
Garak places
a hand over the doctor’s. “My dear, you should slow down with all your talking
and take the time to eat.” He can’t even bring himself to add ‘doctor’ after
the ‘my dear’. He supposes there goes all the distance. Swept away by one sad
and vulnerable doctor Bashir, cuddling with a teddy bear and in dire need of
comfort. And Garak, helpless not be the one who offers comfort.
one of my favorite garashir seasonings is their mutual savior-complex-induced penchant for sacrificing themselves for the greater good and how that manifests in both hilariously fucked up and weirdly wholesome ways.
like julian meeting up with the former head of the obsidian order and one of the most dangerous men alive all by himself so that he can ask for some cardassian brain schematics and figure out what the fuck is wrong with garak’s brain (too many things). or garak having a round-the-clock panic attack in the walls of the prison camp to save their asses while two klingons culturally conditioned to venerate suffering and death nod on in approval and julian swoons and bites his nails and swoons some more. or julian in the holosuite like “we might die, sure, but what’s a little death among friends?” and garak being like “pretty sure suicide in a ferengi escape room with cum-stains that aren’t my own would cancel out every cool spy thing i’ve ever done with my life actually,“ and julian with his gun is like “bet” and garak just “you’re sexy and that means you’re right. let’s go die the stupidest deaths ever.” or garak trying to blow up the founder’s planet and himself and julian in the process and julian with his fucked up statistical probability brain not even batting an eye when he hears about it. “yeah that was a reasonable line of thought. anyway, this coffee is good.” insanity.
i like to imagine that after the war when the intensity has dialed down a few hundred notches, this tendency of theirs still manifests in these needlessly batshit moments where julian is like “ok but i feel like working around the clock to cure this disease all by myself makes sense even though it’s killing me” and garak’s like “maybe not, tbh. you’re not the only smarty pants, you can have help maybe? and i know this is sudden but i think i love you” and julian responds “we’ve been married twelve years. it is a little fast, but i love you, too. i guess i can live then or w/e. for love.” and at some other point garak is like “ok but i feel like flinging myself into this forty-foot pit to retrieve seven crying orphans and a regnar is a good idea because i was abused as a child” and julian with his huge brain is like “actually i think throwing a ladder down would be better, especially since i’m not a necrophiliac” and garak responds “oh you might be right. so no head at my funeral? cruel.” and on it goes until the therapy finally kicks in
Picture this: You are young and charismatic and very intelligent and you are so, so alone. Through no fault of your own, you have had the responsibility of a secret balanced upon your shoulders. It’s not your secret, not really, you never had a choice in the matter, but if it gets out your life will be ruined. So, from childhood, you’ve known you couldn’t let anyone too close.
But you are young. You are young and weighed down with secrets and you meet a man who wears his deception like great gilded armor. You don’t know what lies beneath, but you watch him stroll through the Promenade and you know as well as he does that he is untouchable.
You have lunch once or twice a week. You trade novels and sharp remarks and at some point you realize you know him better than anyone else on the station. You realize you don’t know him at all.
You know he thinks he knows you. You know he doesn’t know you’re lying.
And then suddenly he’s fading in front of you, maybe dying because of his secrets and you realize all at once that he was never wearing armor. He’s like you, forced to tell lies since before they could fit properly into his mouth, and at some point someone took the loose ends and wove them into a cage.
There is a man in your life who is just like you and he is dying in your care. He tells you stories of his life and you know none of them are true, you know there are some secrets a man carries to his grave. He tells you stories and you can hear the truth in every word and you can’t help but ask him why he’s telling you all this.
He looks you straight in the eyes, the bastard, and the answer rolls off his tongue, smooth as honey, soaked in fear he dare not speak aloud, I need to know that someone forgives me.
You know this man better than anyone. You do not know him at all. He has bared his soul to you and he was lying through his teeth. You look at him and see yourself and you make a decision.
lots of reasons why post-canon garashir feels right to me, but the fact that julian is already sooooo trophy husband coded is a huge part of it. he’s so beautiful and so strange and you can picture him in so many fancy cardassian outfits, but when he’s home he wears scandalously little and everyone is just like. oh he’s an alien he doesn’t know better. (but they are looking. respectfully 👀👀) he’s arrogant and a bit patronizing as a doctor which you know cardassians would be SO into. but at the end of the day he’s just making garak look better bc he left for a decade and came back with a sexy alien that argues with him in public like a slut. the locals don’t really get it but they’re happy for him
Richard Bashir would absolutely loathe Garak and Garak would get the best fucking of his life from Julian about it.
OP WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE THIS IN THE TAGS:
i disagree with the premise bc i think garak can and will play richard like a fiddle and win his approval very quickly but this concept is so fucking funny
Now I’m picturing Richard hanging out in Garak’s shop, all disapproving of this man his son is with because he’s Cardassian, and just a tailor to boot, but wanting to see what’s so great about him. Garak is in full impress mode, being super nice, telling some tall tales about Julian (most of them even true) to subtly rub in the fact he knows what’s going on in Julian’s life while Richard doesn’t, and in walks Martok.
And Garak’s like “Ah, General Martok, or should I say Chancellor now?”
And Martok kinda grimaces, grumbles about all the paperwork, and the two have a happy quick catch up while Richard watches in awe.
Then Richard gets introduced to Martok, Martok says his son is very brave and makes a reference about being in prison together, which Richard doesn’t know about, then turns to Garak and says they only got out of that prison because of Garak’s bravery.
And Richard is standing there like, but aren’t you just a tailor? And Garak is like “Oh yes, I’m a plain and simple tailor.”
Martok laughs, and says goodbye and leaves, and Garak just doesn’t elaborate about anything said.
Years down the track, Julian and Garak are married, and Richard asks when they’re going to meet Garak’s parents.
And Garak just casually drops that his father died in a prison camp, and the only reason he got to say goodbye is because Julian looked after him so well. And again refuses to elaborate.
