Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For a time, Julian harbored the hope the Federation would let him continue with his everyday life. Maybe he would never achieve the heights he had dreamed of, but if he could stay with the people he loved and continue his work, that could be enough. That would have to be enough.

But deep down, Julian knew those hopes were for humans, not augments.

Julian thinks about that bitterly as he sits in Garak’s living room, cut out and stripped of everything he’d known. He’s been exiled at the end of the war with nothing but the clothes he had on and what he could grab from his quarters before they forced him on a transport. No universal translator, no medical equipment except what he squirreled away in his bags, not even a communication device to check on his friends from time to time. He’s completely lost.

To make things worse, Cardassia, in its xenophobic wake, is almost void of translators, so he's left to learn the language with Garak, who thankfully knows Federation Standard.

Still he can’t practice medicine, and he fears he’s a terrible house husband. Julian grew up with the luxuries of replicators, and he fears his cooking leaves much to be desired. He wouldn’t know; he doesn’t taste much, these days. He just feels so... useless. He’s taken to sleeping during the day and gardening and reading by night. That might also account for his inability to learn Kardassi, still not able to talk with Garak outside from the most basic things.

Or it might just be another way he’s a failure.

One day Julian wanders off from the house in the morning, as tired of sleeping as he is of being awake. Carrying his medkit more out of habit than anything else, he hears children playing that’s quickly followed by a low thump, the universal sound of a kid that hits the ground a bit too hard, and a sharp cry.

He runs, more out of instinct than anything, and finds a boy grabbing his knee  with watery eyes.

Julian kneels down next to him and makes kind of wide gestures with his hand, moving them in circles and pointing to himself and then to the boy. “So’ara.” Help. At least he’s learned that much. Not that he can make use of his knowledge anymore -- except no, right now he can. That’s all that matters.

The child nods and shows him his knee. He's dirty and skinny, and Julian already knows how to recognize the signs of a war orphan. Yet most are frightened creatures, while this one is practically shoving his injured leg on his face. He can’t help grinning a bit at that.

Julian carefully props up the legs and takes out his tools, making sure to show them to the boy.  He holds each of them up and gives his most reassuring smile when the boy gives him a blank look. “Fix.”

The kid blinks owlishly a few times, looking at his tricoder with curiosity. Julian is trying to think of a way to show the boy how it works without words. Then suddenly the boy pulls one if his curls. 

“Yes, my hair is different.” Julian feels a bit self-conscious, and just resists the urge to try and smooth a few of his unruly locks down. But he shakes it off. There’s no time or reason for vanity here. Julian carefully starts working on the wound, trying not to laugh when he catches the boy staring again at his hair in something akin to wonder. He’s been neglecting his physical appearance lately, so he has long hair and weeklong beard, far from the neat and professional image he upheld until a few weeks ago.

"Diff... ent?" The kid binks a few times and then cocks his head to the side in the same way Julian had a few minutes ago. He was a fast learner.

“Hair. Sha’nar.” Julian explains with a wince as he finishes the initial clean up of the area. He can barely say anything, and hopes sha’nar is the correct term. He wonders how it’s possible he’s picked up on so little in all this time. 

"Jj-jair?" The kids suddenly lights up and pulls his own one. Julian nods encouragingly, smiling as he pulls his hands back from the cut. It looks better now. "Sha’nniar jair!"

“Sha’nniar, sha.” Julian smiles brightly, trying to remember the word and adding a yes at the end.  He shows the boy his tools and then the tricorder, giving him a hopeful look. And Miles said he wouldn’t make a good teacher. “Help.”

The kid looks at him with wide eyes and points at the tricorder. "Jelp?"

“So’ara. Help.” Julian manages to set the sprain, careful to make it as safe and painless as possible. The boy doesn’t show any signs of pain, and Julian lets out a sigh of relief. At least his medical skill isn’t something he’s lost along with everything else. There will be some residual bruising, but it shouldn’t be too bad.

The kid looks at him with amazement and says something that sounds unintelligible, smiling brightly in a way that shows he's missing his front teeth. Probably 5-6 years old, then, and likely living in the surroundings.

Julian helps him up, smiling crookedly. “Live here?” He points at the rocks behind him, feeling his stomach drop.  This was no place for a child. Hell, he wouldn’t wish these conditions on Kai Winn.

The kid shakes his head in the complex way Cardassians use to say no, and takes Julian's hand. He pulls him along with him until they arrive to a small tent, hiding beneath rubble in such a way it is isolated and protected from the elements. The kid proudly shows him all his belongings, until he reaches a little toy, with a torn leg. "Jelp."

“Sha, sha.” Julian kneels down and holds up the toy, some kind of stuffed lizard cat. He carefully studies the tear, nodding a few times as he takes in the shape and size. Julian carefully examines the stitches and runs the tricorder over the toy’s leg, smiling brightly at the boy before handing the tricorder to him. Then he starts stitching. Unlike cooking he is quite good at this task, since he’s been sewing Kukalaka all his life and even some injuries when modern tech was unavailable in the battlefield. He tries to cast those thoughts away, focusing on the toy instead. The war seems so far away now, even if it was because of it he was allowed to keep his status as a doctor, even if it was because of the war that he lost it.

The boy gasps and hugs the toy closely when Julian finishes the last stitch, slipping inside his tent. He comes back out a moment later,  carefully cradling some moldy sweets in his hands. He looks up at Julian, biting his lip as he holds the candy up. " So’iwa." Payment. That word at least Julian knows.

Julian takes the moldy sweets because they can’t be healthy for the child. Julian digs into his bag, finding a few of the energy bars he has with him. They weren’t the best tasting things he’d ever had, but they were filled with nutrients and certainly much safer to eat than the food the boy had. “Thank you.” He’s sure the words will be lost for the child, but hopes the meaning will at least reach him.

The kid smells it with a confused expression, biting his lip as he glances across the bar and turns it over a few times in his hands. Finally he looks at Julian, kicking the dirt with his worn shoe. "Shu ?" How. Julian wonders how what, exactly.

“Friend.” Julian gestures at himself softly, wincing that he hasn’t even bothered to learn that much. But then he doesn’t exactly have much in the way of friends these days, cut off from Miles and Dax and the others. They know he’s on Cardassia, but nothing else.

The kid child tilts his head without understanding and stares at him with a blank look until Julian realizes what he’s asking. The kid has never eaten something like that, has probably never even seen a ration bar. Julian has no idea what it is. He’s asking how to eat what any Federation citizen would consider the most basic and boring part of their diet.

Julian opens it and slowly takes a bite, showing him how to eat it. Then he hands it to him. The boy widens his eyes and snatches the bar back quickly, happily taking a bite. He eagerly takes another one, all small and quick, a touch of desperation to them that makes Julian’s stomach turn.

Julian grins back at him softly and gestures out the door. “Close house.”

The child turns back to his small pile of possessions, digging through the old clothes until he finds something. The boy gives him an old and worn book. " Yiah’go." If Julian remembers correctly, that's the imperative form of read.

Julian winces because he can’t tell a story. He doesn’t know the language well enough — then he sees it’s a grammar book. Probably something salvaged in the rubble, since a child that young wouldn’t be attending school anyway, even if his circumstances had been different.

"Yiah’go." The kid leans on him, rubbing his eyes and letting out a small noise that sounds suspiciously like a yawn.

Julian sighs to himself, taking a few deep breaths. He can do this. Julian starts to make up a story in his own language, moving his hands through the air. At this point he doesn't think the child will care.

Julian helps him tuck himself inside a ripped blanket as he talks and makes a note to come back with supplies. The child listens and watches Julian, eyes closing more and more, until his breathing becomes regular. Julian leaves, making sure not to wake him up. He’s finally made his first friend here.

Chapter Text

The next morning, the child is sitting at the park with his doll in his arms, waiting for him with a wide smile and an eager gaze. Julian ends up reading to him again, peppering in Cardassian words from the book. The child nods and claps when he recognizes a word. Julian bites back a laugh -- who would’ve thought, the accomplished Julian Bashir having a child cheering each time he says a word right?

He suddenly points at Julian, looking hopeful as he waves one hand in his face, likely imitating Julian. " Ela !" Name. He wants to know who he is, and Julian can’t help feeling touched. He hasn’t interacted with anybody but Garak for weeks.

“Julian. Eke elai ja Julian ike.” Julian. My name is Julian,  he says in thick Kardassi. He bites his lip when he hears his own accent. He can almost see the disapproval in Garak’s face despite the other man being miles away.

"Damin." The kid smiles as he points at himself, looking proud of himself. He glances past Julian down the dusty road, empty of any nature for the moment. "Todak ?" 

Julian can't feel a bit self-conscious at how the child -- Damin -- is making his language simpler to accommodate for him. He’s quite sure the actual wording should have been oloi ja todak , your house, the same as how he should have asked him oloi ela some moments before.

Julian flushes a little, swallowing down what little remained of his pride. There’s never been a place for it during hardships it seems. Julian points down the road, careful to speak slowly. “Other end.”

"Todak? Or haywa?" He has no idea what that word means, but he guesses a haywa it's the kind of tent Damin has. He makes a mental note to ask Garak. 

“Todak.” Julian gestures and bites his lip at the way Damin widens his eyes. He feels guilty for having more. He saw desolation and poverty while living on DS9, but never to the extent he’s seeing here. Compared to the rubble at the edge of the park, the small house he shares with Garak seems like a mansion, even if it’s moldy, full of cracks and most of the time the most basic services don’t work.

"Kulak?" Alone. Damin wants to know that, and Julian feels something inside him move at Damin’s expression. It’s not the expression he’s seen in other Cardassians before, envying him or wanting what he has. It is concern, pure and disinterested. Kindness.

“Toda’ok ka.” With a friend. Julian realizes he doesn’t even have the words to describe his relationship with Garak and suddenly feels ashamed of himself. He’s let himself sink so low, giving up on even trying to learn Kardassi before he even bothered learning how to say what Garak is to him. And why? 

The boy smiles brightly at that. "Talak toda’ok! " I like friends! How did a child so pure and innocent end up on the streets? And how could Julian help him, even with the limited options he had on Cardassia?

That afternoon, Garak finds Julian surrounded by padds, studying Kardassi diligently. Considering Julian’s depression had him away from any kind of academic endeavor for the past weeks, this change is interesting, to say the least.

“Dear, not that I’m not happy about your sudden interest in our language, but what brought you out of that past rut?”

Julian glances up at him, expression sheepish and biting his lip. Garak gives him an encouraging smile. "I made a friend. Oh, do you mind if I bring him some of the fruit from our garden?"

“Of course not, dear. I have to admit I’m surprised. I was worried that making friends would be difficult given the current view of outsiders here.” Garak scoffs a bit at that, because if people had any sense Julian would be working in one of their finest hospitals and not wilting away like one of his orchids. But then, they both seemed to be in bloom today.

"I guess I was lucky, then. This word here, how do you pronounce it? The book isn’t very clear."

“A’rin, sunfruit, emphasis on the first syllable.”

Julian rolls the word in his tongue a bit until he’s satisfied with the sound. He glances up at Garak, raising an eyebrow at him. "That's the fruit that's growing in the backyard, right? It is quite packed with vitamins."

“It is, yes. I take it the person you’re helping isn’t doing well?”

"If I wanted to say this fruit will help him grow stronger, is it m'aala A'rin dak ek'he ero?" He pronounces it with a bit of difficulty, looking at his notes. It's not perfect, the verb is wrong, the particle is missing but Garak is surprised at how he went from complete denial to building phrases. This new friend truly had turned Julian’s mood around, and for that Garak will happily give him whatever fruit he wants.

“Yes, yes, very good. You should actually say M'aala a'rin ja dak ek'he erò, but it was close enough to be understandable. You want to help him get stronger? Is he ill?”

Julian shakes his head, smiling fondly out the window and down the road toward the park. “He’s a child.”

"An orphan, I imagine, then? Otherwise the parents would not let you come closer." He knows how Cardassians have been talking behind Julian’s back, whispering and not letting the children come close to look at the scaleless man. Julian lets out a dry laugh, giving Garak a knowing look. Clearly the other Cardassians haven’t been as quiet as they thought.

“Probably. I’m doing my best to help him, but it’s difficult since I can barely speak the language.”

"You seem to be understanding the basics quickly enough, though. Want me to help you?"

“That would be most appreciated. I feel so stupid.” Julian throws his hands up, biting his lip and swallowing down several curses. Now that he feels better and wants to fight his depression, he can see how much he fell behind over the past few weeks. He supposes that’s what happens when he doesn’t so much as touch a padd.

"It's not stupid, Kardassi is a beautiful and intricate language. Here. The first part of most sentences is the subject, remember that you put different emphasis according to the person's social class. If it's a child, it should be m'a'ae, with ae meaning young."

“So what would you call me?” Julian asks softly as he traces his hand across one of the scales on Garak’s wrist. He can’t fix that he should have known weeks ago, maybe even years. But Julian can learn now, can call Garak all the sweet names no one else bothered to over the years.

"Ma'oara, my darling. I'm surprised you never asked that in so many years." Garak tuts at him, shaking his head a bit in mock offense. The doctor really could have a shocking lack of curiosity sometimes.

“Ma’oara? What does that mean?”

"My darling." Garak rolls his eyes dramatically, because did Julian really think he was calling him doctor in bed all these years? Julia suddenly starts laughing. He can’t remember the last time he has.

Julian leans over and kisses him on the cheek, grinning and looking far too smug for someone who just made a mistake “So I shouldn’t go calling doctors that?”

"Please don't, unless you want to destroy our already tainted reputation. To doctors over you, Eke'ahateg-era. Below, Eke'ahateg-os. Eke means something is related to you, and ahateg..."

"Doctor!" Julian cuts him off with a jubilant cry, the smugness turning into a genuine pride. Garak can’t bring himself to be annoyed at the interruption. 

“Yes, that means Doctor. Era signifies respect for their age and experience.”

“Wouldn’t everyone be my era since I’m not even sure I’m an ahateg anymore?” Julian asks, a touch of bitterness in his voice. He props his elbows up on the table, gaze growing far away but not distant in the way its been most days since he arrived here with none of the prospects they’d expected him to have. Garak takes that as a good sign.

"Until you learn the language and find a good job, yes. But I think you're ready to do that first part at least."

“Maybe. But even if I learn, not many people here want me treating them. Hell, even if I’d come as a respected Federation doctor like we’d planned, I’m not sure anyone would let me near them.” Julian looks down, gaze hot and blinking a few times to keep from tearing up. He doesn’t like being isolated. “Most people look at me and whisper behind my back. Not knowing the language at least spared me from understanding their words.”

"That child wants you to. That's a start. Nobody wanted to visit my shop at first on the promenade, either." Garak reminds him gently, running a hand over his shoulders. Julian glances up at him and takes a shaky breath.

“Yes, a few children will allow it until someone comes along to tell them that I’m an exile and augmented.”

"Or maybe those someones will need help too."

“Maybe.” When had the roles inverted? Julian used to be the hopeful one, and Garak the one that saw the world as dark and with little to give back to anyone. But maybe … maybe now they both needed to be hopeful, for themselves and for people like Damin who needed their help. Julian sits up, expression growing more confident. “Maybe. 

"Better maybe than never. Say it in Kardassi." Garak grabs his pad and gives him a defiant look.

Julian rolls his eyes, leaning back so he can meet Garak’s eyes. In rough Kardassi he says, “Maybe better than ever. Hope is dead.”

"So you can speak Kardassi. And here you had me talking in Standard. From now on I think I won’t have mercy on you, ma’oara."

Julian laughs again at that, leaning over to press a hand over Garak’s. His gaze is lighter than it was a few seconds ago, almost playful. “Barely, if you didn’t notice the wonderful grammar I had on hope’s dead.”

"Yes, that can be adjusted. Say it again."

After two hours of diligent study and careful correction, Julian is exhausted, and talking a basic Kardassi that he hopes will be enough to tell a small tale the next day.

“Enough. My mouth hurts.” Julian cuts Garak off with a low groan, grabbing a glass of water in the hopes that will take the numbness out of his tongue.

"More than enough, ma'oara."

Julian nods, feeling exhausted as he stretches out on the floor, but happy nonetheless. With a purpose. He spends every day like that for the next few weeks, visiting Damin in the mornings and spending his afternoons in study with Garak. 

Chapter Text

Julian starts visiting the park daily, taking his research with him. Julian can’t submit it anywhere now, but that doesn’t mean he can’t keep working.  Even if he doesn’t get the accolades, his work can still save lives. That matters more. 

The boy smiles brightly and runs over  every time he sees him, and tries to share his meager meals with him.

Julian always accepts, remembering how impolite Garak said refusing would be. He makes sure to bring Damin energy bars and water, carefully breaking up the pieces for him. Julian listens carefully and makes sure to understand his words, learning a little more every day. 

"You seem to be in good spirits lately, my dear. Again going to the park?" Garak smiles warmly at him, raising an eye ridge.  He gives him a small food box. Getting supplies is still difficult, but he's been pulling certain strings for weeks to secure this. Julian feels touched to see some of the things inside it are perfect for a growing child. He leans over and quickly kisses Garak, smiling against his lips for a moment. 

“Yes, yes. I have to admit that being a babysitter wasn’t what I’d planned on, but it’s nice feeling like I’m doing some good.”

Julian arrives at Damin’s playing spot and at first doesn’t see him waiting outside as he usually does. He starts searching, hoping the little boy simply discovered a new rock to climb or bit of sand to build castles with. But there’s no sign of him. Something is wrong.

"Damin!" He rushes inside the tent, fearing the worst as he pushes the rocks guarding the door aside. He feels his stomach drop at the sight. 

Julian finds Damin coughing, skin slightly tinged with a deeper grey than usual. The little boy smiles and waves with one hand, imitating the way the doctor always greets him. “Julian!”

"Damin! So ah’na ija?” What’s wrong? That’s all he can think about. He takes out his tricorder and scans him, while cursing himself for not noticing the symptoms earlier. This is the pneumonia that's been devastating the whole land, fueled by the smoke and dust in the air.

Julian kneels down next to him and smiles as gently as possible, hoping the fear doesn’t show in his eyes. “Ahateg’ikiai.” Hospital. 

The boy shakes his head, biting his lip as his eyes filled with shame. "Hi’in." Orphan.

Julian hates that term with all his being, because he knows what that means. A boy without a house, outside the caste system, can't get even the simplest services. 

Julian carefully picks him up, making sure it’s all right with him first.  He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that he’s never had respect for authority. There’s no reason to start trying to now, when a life is at stake and he doesn’t have the necessary equipment to help.  “Eke ja ahateg, ike. Damin. Oloi arasha he ike.” I’m a doctor, Damin. I can help you. 

On any other occasion, Julian would have felt proud of himself for being able to say such a complex sentence. But right now all he can think is how he’ll manage to  make doctors take care of an orphan?

Damin nods sleepily and says something in Kardassi he doesn't quite understand, but Julian decides something then: the child won't be without family. He'll take him as part of his own if that's what it takes to get him medicine.

Julian arrives to the only hospital still standing and gestures at the coughing boy. One look at his disheveled and dirty figure makes the man in the door give him a disgusted glance, lips curling. " Hish'a ?" Julian knows what that means. He wants to know his surname. If he doesn't have any family, he won't get a treatment. Cardassia has too many orphans to care anymore. 

“Garak.” Julian offers up, deciding to deal with the consequences later. Damin shivers in his arms, skin feeling colder than it should. Julian swallows tightly, trying to keep his hands steady. Garak won’t be mad. And to hell if he is.

"Hi ish'inora ija?" Julian is pretty sure that means "he's the father?", so he nods enthusiastically, giving the guard a tight smile.

"Sha. Hi ish'inora ije." Garak won’t be mad at his sudden paternity, Julian decides, not flinching as he answers.

They lead him to a small sick room, letting him place the child on the bed. He gestures at himself, but the man gives him a derisive look. “Hi’inore.”

"Eke hi ish'inora kaasja ije!" He gets angry. I’m his father too! Or at least he hopes that's what he said. For all he knows, he could be saying he's a desert snake, head spinning with rage, tongue feeling numb with fear. He wonders what hi’inore means. Nothing kind certainly, considering the venom with which that word was spit at him.

Julian crosses his arms and waits, tricorder in hand. It will be some time before Elim is called to the hospital. Julian feels more and more restless, just barely resisting the urge to start pacing across the room. until a young doctor decides to come see Damin, her eyes warm and concerned. He can work with that. She smiles at him kindly and says in a shaky federation standard, "Son?"

“Sha!” Julian grins and sits up a little straighter, holding up his tricorder. It may not be much, but he at least knows how to talk a bit. He takes a shaky breath. “Call Garak. Please.”

"Sha. Wh-ere?"

“City edge. Tain’s house.” She looks at him with a blank expression. He tries again. It seems her Standard is really basic, more basic than his Kardassi. "Tain ho todak nu’je." He’s in Tain's mansion.

She nods quickly and calls a little boy, whispering to him in Kardassi. The boy looks at Julian with wide, curious eyes and then runs away. She smiles, shushing at Damin and looking at Julian. "I call his ish'inora."

Garak answers the door and his jaw drops when a boy tells him his son is sick. Luckily he’s known Julian long enough to realize that this must be his doing. In a sense he’s surprised Julian hadn’t done this ages ago. It is definitely the kind of mad crusade the human loves to do.

Garak goes back to the hospital with the messenger boy, only to find a very nervous Julian trying to explain the symptoms to the kind doctor, half in Kardassi, half in Federation Standard. Garak grins proudly behind him, watching and listening for a few seconds before making his presence known. His Kardassi really is getting better. 

Garak steps in next to him, smiling softly as he takes his hand. He glances at Julian, not wanting to just start translating before he has implicit permission. 

"Garak, they won't treat him without a parent with power." Julian grits his teeth, furious and hands moving through the air with a passion he’s been lacking the last few months. Garak has missed it. "I told them he has the dust pneumonia but they don't care. She wants to help but she can’t, she’s just a practitioner."

“Of course not. I fear the prejudices and segregation based on the caste system haven’t died out just yet.”

"Well, either you help them die, or I will break into the infirmary and get the medicines myself." Julian makes fists with his hands, tired and beyond anxious after two hours of listening to Damin's labored breathing. Garak gives him a fond look, catching one of his hands in his own and brushing a finger across his knuckles. 

“I’ll convince them to help us without anyone dying. How is that, dear?”

"Please." Julian goes sit at the side of the boy, and Garak notices they are talking with a mix of Federation Standard and Kardassi. Maybe that's the future Cardassia needs?

Eventually they get a more experienced doctor to come, who sneers at them within seconds of entering the room. with his nastiest expression, he tells them they’ll run a few tests. Julian smiles over at Garak tiredly, brow furrowed and looking ready to snap at someone. “If they’d let me, I can do them myself. I know how to operate all the equipment.”

"I know, but I doubt they'll let you."

“No, they called me a Hi’inore. What does that mean?”

"A bastard's father. I believe you have a similar term but involving the child's mother in the Federation." Julian knew exactly which term it was, and what profession it implied the mother had. He wondered if it meant the same about him. "Point me to the one who said it?" Garak says the last sentence with a bright smile and sparkling eyes. Julian fears what will happen to the rude doctor.

"A doctor a few doors down, but we might want to wait until we get Damin some much needed medical care. It's fine, I know what the Cardassians think of me."

"Yes, but they won't treat a bastard's son, so I may need to convince them. You just wait with him." Garak kneels at Damin's side, glancing at the scales along his neck. They’re a shade too dark to him, which means he’s sure Julian knows exactly how sick he is. "If anyone asks, you're Damin Garak, kid." He says that last part in Kardassi, and the kid's face gets bright at that.

Julian knows the doctor will regret his words, but he can’t find it in him to care too much. 

Julian ruffles Damin’s hair, grinning as he looks down at Damin who watches him with wide eyes. "Garak fix. Bring back doctors."

"Daira nalan’go.” Tell me a tale. The kid coughs and looks at Julian expectantly.

Julian smiles and starts a version of the three bears, bears changed to a type of lizard. He mixes and matches Kardassi and Federation.

"lan she Kardassi ije? Ki sha’nniar ho yellow ije?" Was she cardassian? Why was her hair yellow? The kid asks in a mix of Kardassi and standard.

"Human like me. Sha’nniar can be yellow."

"Green and blue kada sha’nniar ije?" also green and blue hair? Damin opens his eyes and coughs, trying to imagine people with hair like that. He never imagined something like that could exist.

"Sometimes. Some paint it." Julian cuddles him closer to his chest. He smiles softly at the boy, brushing a few pieces of hair away from his forehead. 

"Can eke ?" Can I? The kid starts to fall asleep, imagining how he’d look with hair like Julian, curly, but also with colors in some places.

"Sha, we can paint your sha’nniar when we go home."

"To eke haywa?" Julian feels his chest contract at that, some of the air going out of him. Damin really thinks once this is over he'll go to his little hut. Alone. 

"No, eke todak, with Garak." No, my house with Garak.

"Me? I'm a hi'in." Damin shakes his head, and starts coughing again, his tiny shoulders shaking far too much for Julian’s liking. 

"No, no more hi'in." Damin won’t be a bastard anymore, not as long as Julian has breath left on him.

The kid smiles warmly at that, a touch of disbelief still in his gaze. Then he falls asleep, breath slightly more even in his sleep. When Garak comes back, he finds Julian holding him protectively. "Dear, the doctor agreed with me in that calling people hi'inore is quite rude and very insensitive, and that the best for his own health is to treat his patients and eat his prejudices with his gelat. Can you bring Damin to him?" 

The way Garak smiles makes Julian remember he's likely the most dangerous creature he's ever met. It also makes him remember why he loves him. He knows Garak would tear the hospital down brick by brick if he feels that’s what’s right to do.

Chapter Text

When Julian enters the room, the scales of the doctor’s neck are a shade lighter than normal, the muscles along his eye ridges tighter than they should be. Clearly Garak hasn’t lost his edge when it comes to terrifying people. 

Garak smiles at him brightly as he takes his human’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Neither of them have names that mean much, but then that's never been a problem for Garak.

The doctor takes Damin's blood pressure and listens to his lungs, all perfectly professional if also distant and clinical. It was hardly the way to treat a child.  Then the doctor addresses only Garak, explaining the symptoms and treatment in the thickest Kardassi he can muster.

Julian glares hotly at him, squeezing his tricorder so tightly he’s surprised it doesn’t start to crack. He can’t understand more than one or two words with the way that man talks, trying to guess based on expression alone. Dangerous with a Cardassian.

Garak smiles sharply at the doctor, and suddenly nods. Then he  shifts closer to the doctor and whispers something that erases the smug look from his face. "He'll talk slowly for you, dear, don't worry."

“Why thank you, doctor. How kind of you.” He doesn’t even bother saying it in Kardassi, grinning up at Garak and giving his hand another quick squeeze. They did make a good team. 

Garak helps Julian, translating things discreetly as the doctor speaks slowly through gritted teeth, explaining the child will have to stay in the hospital for at least a week and then, somebody has to take care of him.

“Ekela iji. ” We will, Julian snaps in stilted Kardassi. He hopes Garak isn’t upset by that.

"He's named Garak after all, doctor." Garak almost whispers, the smile growing wider. Feral. Julian can tell he's seconds from biting him in the face.

Julian takes his other hand and squeezes it. He smiles brightly at the doctor, glancing back at Damin as fondness swells in his chest. “Hi’ekela.” Our son.

The doctor snorts and then Garak snaps, voice harsh and cold enough to make Julian shiver. "I don't need to explain to you how babies are made, do I?"

The doctor leaves the room in silence after that, not glancing back at them once. 

Julian starts to laugh uncontrollably once they are alone again. That much he can understand in Kardassi.

He collapses onto Garak, smiling widely as he takes his hands again. He just resist the urge to kiss him, knowing it wouldn’t be proper in such a public space. “I suppose I should have talked to you before adopting a child.”

"Why, do you need that chat about making babies too?" Garak starts to laugh, despite the lividness his scales show.

Julian opens and closes his mouth a few times and then starts giggling again. He’d been under so much pressure the last hours he feels all his energy depleted, a kind of mad elation coming over him. “No, it’s just — I don’t even know if you want a family. No, I know you do but —“

"The problem is that you don't know if you do."

Garak softly pulls him out of the room, so the child doesn't listen to this. He had his good share of hearing and seeing things he shouldn't have when he was a child, and he won’t let it happen to someone else if it’s in his power to prevent it. 

Julian swallows tightly and shakes his head a little. He lets out a few breaths nervously, feeling both as sure and unsure as he ever has. “I never considered it after I found out I was enhanced. I assumed it would never be an option.”

"And now? You ran to use my family name when he needed help."

“I couldn’t let him die. He was sick and he’s my responsibility.” Julian cries, eyes widening in astonishment. He’d thought about taking Damin back with him for weeks, only resisting because he knew it would be a mark against the child, given his reputation here. Suddenly that didn’t seem to matter as much as making sure he was healthy and well fed. 

"He's an orphan, he hardly was your responsibility. Orphans are nobody’s."

“I... maybe not. But... I read to him and brought him food. He gave me food as well. He taught me his language and I taught him mine. We bonded, I suppose.”

Garak smiles warmly at him, taking his hand. His gaze is almost amused. "I'm surprised you took this long to realize that."

Julian looks up at his words, eyes wide with surprise. “Come again?”

"You went every day to visit him, and finally decided to learn Kardassi, which I thought was a lost cause. I'm surprised you didn't bring him home like a lost puppy weeks ago."

Julian shakes his head, pressing his face into Garak’s shoulder. Garak has always understood him better than anyone else, himself included. “I suppose I already have a child, yes.”

"Ekela, ma’oara, ekela. " We, my dear. We.

“Yes, we, we have a son. We have a son, Elim!” Julian cries brightly, smiling with uncontrolled glee. He has a son. 

"Yes, I figured we'd have one some weeks ago. Now, want to enter and tell him?"

Julian presses a quick kiss to his lips and nods hurriedly. They need to move fast— Cardassia is too unfriendly towards orphans to take this as slowly as Julian would like. “Did you — did you meet with him when I wasn’t there?”

"No, I imagined you'd want to introduce me when you were ready. Going to meet him without telling you would have been disrespectful." Garak had been observing him from afar, though. Some days, Damin happened to come across some very nice clothes or blankets that turned to just be abandoned in his park.

Julian nods quickly and takes Garak’s hand, carefully pushing their way through the doors. He makes a mental note that he’ll have to let them bond separately to his own bond with Damin. He doesn’t want Garak to be any less close to their child than he is. “Damin, we tell you.”

The kid cocks his head to the side. Not a Cardassian gesture, but one Garak is sure he picked from Julian on the multiple occasions he probably struggled to understand Kardassi.

“We want to keep you, take you todak. Hi’ekela.” Julian’s words are more confident than they were a few weeks ago.

"Me? But... Eke ja hi'in ije." I am a bastard. So young, and already he's sure his place is with the lowest of society, living out of scraps. Julian feels his heart rip at that.

“Shi’oh, Damin, Shi’oh. Oloi ja ekela hi’ekela palai ije. ” No, Damin, no. You’re our son now. Julian feels his throat filling with something as he said those words. He’s not sure what that emotion is, but he’s sure he enjoys it. It’s warm, tender.

"Why?" He coughs again, doubling over on himself. Julian watches with worried eyes, biting his lip until the coughing passes. It’s a bit quicker than the last time. 

“Because we care for you.”

"Why?" The kid looks even more bewildered, sticking his lip out, as though he’d never considered the possibility someone would simply love him with no strings attached. Julian can understand that feeling well. 

“You are... we want you as our hi’ekela. That is all.” Julian struggles to express what he’s never had expressed to himself in words. The longing, the love.

"But I... I just... hi'in from the streets."

The boy struggles with his half Kardassi and half Standard, not understanding what Julian could see in him, but giving him a shy smile.

Julian smiles back, equally shy, as he gently sits on the edge of the bed. “I’m just ahateg from... nowhere. Garak and I, we... you’re a son. You can be our son.”

"Garak too?" The boy sneezes a few times, covering his face with his arm. Then he looks between them, opening and closing his mouth a few times.

“Sha, sha. He likes you too. Want to talk to him?”

The boy nods eagerly. Another gesture he must have picked from Julian, as Cardassians don’t do that. Garak remembers how much he hated moving his head to express things at first.

Julian brings Garak in, leading him to the edge of the bed with a small smile. “He wants to talk to you.”

"I'll try to use a bit of Standard too, but do you mind if I speak to him in Kardassi too, dear?"

“No, no, that’s fine. I still need to learn more to catch up with him.”

"You needed a son to decide to learn, it seems." He chides Julian with a teaching smile. Then he switches to Kardassi, turning his gaze to the child. "Hello, Damin. You'll take my last name, if you want to. Not an old and venerable one, but the name of people who works and who serves the State."

“I would like to, mister Garak. I want to stay with you and the doctor.”

"And I imagine you don't have any other family that would claim you?" Robbing a child from an upper caste position was even now one of the worst civilian crimes, for such a rigid society. If a family came and claimed Damin, Garak and Julian could end up facing a trial.

The boy shakes his head and smiles nervously. “No, I don’t have parents. I never did.”

"You were in the streets before the bombings?" Garak looks surprised, feeling his chest twist at that. Alone from the start, but also a survivor. Not many children lasted so long on their own. 

“No, orphanage.”

Garak decides not to ask what happened to the rest of the people in the orphanage. He knows. He's been digging Cardassia up for months now. "We have a small house but I think we can manage to make a child's room, what do you think? I may even pull some strings and get you toys. I heard ragnar dolls are the favorite among young children."

Damin smiles eagerly and grabs his hand, nodding a few times. His eyes are wide, like he’s never even dreamed of this. How could he, with how things are? Julian waits by the door, watching them with a soft grin.

"So, what do you say if Julian stays here this night while I go politely convince people to give us what we need?"

“He’ll stay all night?!” The little boy looks so shocked, Julian can’t help pushing his way inside to stand closer to them both.

"Well, yes, the kind doctor said you can't be alone while in the hospital. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to have a human guarding you."

“Sha! Humans are squishy.”

Garak looks at Julian, wondering if the word translated, but going by his blank expression, luckily it didn't. He turns to him, squeezing his hand as he talks in Standard. "I'll be going now. Send for me if there's any problem, but I'm quite sure the doctors are terrified enough to leave you alone. And if they aren't... well, I may have to come again to explain how things are."

Julian sits down next to him, smiling warmly as the boy waves his hands back and forth in the air. “Yiha’go!” Read!

Garak hands Julian a fairytale book from the shelf, dusty and old but the writing still clear. Then he leaves, watching them from the doorway as Julian starts to read in a voice less halting than even just a few days ago. 

Since his and their son’s relationship started with a book, it only seems fitting now they read from a proper one, after all.