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glyfichello i should be translating my "diplomatic trophy spouse" ficlet and instead i *need* to write this *now* because *reasons*
(because Lower Decks happened)
Title: Coming back
Author:malurette
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space 9
Characters/Pairing: Elim Garak/Julian Bashir
Rating: PG / K+
Disclaimer:
Author’s note: ESL author with no beta-reader – if you spot any mistakes please do correct me.
Prompt:
Continuity: Control & Enigma Tales
Word count:
**
Time and again, later, would Garak try and dissect what exactly in his reading sollicited the reaction. Which words, which association. And he’ll never be sure.
Here he was, sitting by Bashir’s still form in the rich afternoon light, reading aloud. The faithful little stuffed beat sat at his rightful spot on the dear doctor’s lap, pinned into place by the weight of an unmoving hand.
And the, as he took a breath in between sentences, he heard it. A hitched breath. A small sniffle.
After months upon months of catatonia, without any previous hint
Bashir was crying. Gaze still unfocused. Hand just so slightly trembling on Kukalaka’s soft body. One teardrop at a time, gently weeping.
My dear..?
Surely that’s not my reading you find offense in..?
As calmly as he could Garak made to stand.
As much as he wanted to run and press the button that would call a nurse and squeeze the frail body into his own arms and shout either for joy or fear at the sudden emotion display, none of that would do.
His gestures poised he wiped a tear, pressed his hand, and kept his voice even.
It’s allright, my dear. Take all the time you need. You know I’ll be here.
Something, somehow, had penetrated the haze, touched him and stirred a tendril of inner life. In time with patience and yet more care it should allow him to come back.
During Bashir’s slow recovery Garak often wondered whether he would have received better care, would have felt better on Earth with the O’Brien family—and everytime he concluded: the care would have been equivalent, felt better most possibly but maybe not… and he wouldn’t have been as safe from Section 31, or from anyone else. On Earth anything could happen, anything slip past their lax security; on Cardassia at least he was safe. Physically safe.
As for mentally safe… well. Was it hubris, was it wishful thinking? Garak hoped so. Holding his hand as a drowning man would hold a lifeline, he couldn’t honestly say which one need said comfort the most.
(because Lower Decks happened)
Title: Coming back
Author:
maluretteFandom: Star Trek: Deep Space 9
Characters/Pairing: Elim Garak/Julian Bashir
Rating: PG / K+
Disclaimer:
Author’s note: ESL author with no beta-reader – if you spot any mistakes please do correct me.
Prompt:
Continuity: Control & Enigma Tales
Word count:
Time and again, later, would Garak try and dissect what exactly in his reading sollicited the reaction. Which words, which association. And he’ll never be sure.
Here he was, sitting by Bashir’s still form in the rich afternoon light, reading aloud. The faithful little stuffed beat sat at his rightful spot on the dear doctor’s lap, pinned into place by the weight of an unmoving hand.
And the, as he took a breath in between sentences, he heard it. A hitched breath. A small sniffle.
After months upon months of catatonia, without any previous hint
Bashir was crying. Gaze still unfocused. Hand just so slightly trembling on Kukalaka’s soft body. One teardrop at a time, gently weeping.
My dear..?
Surely that’s not my reading you find offense in..?
As calmly as he could Garak made to stand.
As much as he wanted to run and press the button that would call a nurse and squeeze the frail body into his own arms and shout either for joy or fear at the sudden emotion display, none of that would do.
His gestures poised he wiped a tear, pressed his hand, and kept his voice even.
It’s allright, my dear. Take all the time you need. You know I’ll be here.
Something, somehow, had penetrated the haze, touched him and stirred a tendril of inner life. In time with patience and yet more care it should allow him to come back.
During Bashir’s slow recovery Garak often wondered whether he would have received better care, would have felt better on Earth with the O’Brien family—and everytime he concluded: the care would have been equivalent, felt better most possibly but maybe not… and he wouldn’t have been as safe from Section 31, or from anyone else. On Earth anything could happen, anything slip past their lax security; on Cardassia at least he was safe. Physically safe.
As for mentally safe… well. Was it hubris, was it wishful thinking? Garak hoped so. Holding his hand as a drowning man would hold a lifeline, he couldn’t honestly say which one need said comfort the most.
