Archive of Our Own ^beta

“What I want to know is, out of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren’t?”

“My dear Doctor, they’re all true.”

“Even the lies?”

“Especially the lies.”

Medical Officer’s Personal Log, Doctor Julian Bashir. Stardate: 531673.2.

I’m unsure what could have possessed me to record this instead of just writing him back. I don’t see what I’m so preoccupied with. Garak is right, we did drift apart. Of course, that’s not all that he was right about. As usual, he seems to know exactly what I’m thinking, even from Cardassia! I shouldn’t be surprised, and I definitely shouldn’t be worried about him. But after all of our supposed “drifting apart”, why did he write me that transmission? Why would he ever tell me about all his best kept secrets? Somehow, in a feat of Cardassian manipulation, answering all my questions about his past has left me with even more questions. How much does he know about the goings-on around Bajor, or even the goings-on in my life? The Obsidian Order dissolved, so I doubt he has access to my logs anyway. I sup– Oh. Garak has no idea how bad things have gotten. I suppose I should write to him then. Computer, end log.

“I’m a part of you, remember? I know what you know, maybe a little more.”

“Still a man of mystery.”

“My dear doctor, You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Garak my friend,
I wish I was writing this transmission with better news. As I’m sure you're well aware, I haven’t been sending as many transmissions as usual these past few months. I was not originally intending to send this one, but I just received your message, and I felt as though it deserved a response, and perhaps an explanation. I’m not sure how to go about this– I’ve never gone about writing something like this before. Oh well, you've always appreciated bluntness, haven’t you, Elim? To put it tersely, Ezri Dax is dead. She was already ill as you know, but I went and mucked it up. What else would you expect from someone like me? I have every enhancement you could imagine, superior intellect, superhuman strength, even improved vision, and yet I couldn’t even save a Trill!. I suppose this doesn’t come as much of a surprise, it’s rather typical of me to lose patients in even the simplest of cases. I’m sorry I haven’t told you until now Elim, I understand completely if you feel betrayed by my omission. I’ve written as much about this subject as I can, but it is difficult to talk about.
As for actually responding to your letter, I simply cannot thank you enough for entrusting me with as much information as you did. How much of it is true, I will never be able to tell, but thank you nonetheless.
I think perhaps I will take you up on that offer of visitation. I think some interaction would do me good, especially with Miles gone, Sisko missing, Odo in the Great Link, and Ezri- you know. I will be attending a medical conference in the Mizar Sector in a little over one month. Perhaps we could meet up on Cardassia Prime?

Your friend, always.
Julian Bashir

“You’ve been such a good friend- I’m going to miss our lunches together.”

“I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

“I’d like to think so, but one can never say. We live… in uncertain times.”

[Approx. one Terran month later, Cardassia Prime]

Doctor Bashir had always had a complicated relationship with Garak, somewhere between loving and distrusting one another. He stared out of the shuttle window, wondering what this meeting would bring. He hoped they wouldn’t talk about Ezri. He was usually better at these kinds of things, at least he thought so. Whenever he would prepare for- whatever this was, he’d set aside at least an hour to rehearse every conversation that he predicted would happen. But with Garak, he never knew what the man would say. He’d have no idea what the next thing to come out of his mouth would be. Julian thought back to all of their previous conversations, trying to piece together some coherent thought of what this meeting would entail.
He was unsuccessful. His mind kept wandering back to the sheer thought of Garak, his enigmatic way of presenting himself, his aptitude for all things strange and mysterious. Although they had definitely gotten to know each other better over the past 8 years, there was still so much that was left unknown about Garak. And, Julian supposed, he had no way of knowing if what he was told could be considered true. If he could only stay on task for one moment, he thought. He didn’t even know why he was so preoccupied with him at the moment, they had met with each other countless times.
The Deep Space Nine runabout Rio Grande landed in the middle of the Tarlak sector, near a pile of rubble which Julian recognized as the remains of Enabran Tain’s former domicile. Garak was standing next to a small house, about 50 feet from the pile. Julian suppressed a shudder from seeing how disheveled his old friend looked, dark circles under his eyes and his usually sleek hair looking duller and out of place. He exited the shuttle.
Their meeting was awkward, unsure of how to properly approach each other after all these years.
“Doctor, Good to see you! I trust the conference went well?”
Julian wished he had taken more time to rehearse their interaction.
“I suppose so, however it was rather dull. Im– sorry to see the destruction of your planet.”
Garak’s face softened and he gave a small nod; a rare display of vulnerability for the seasoned Cardassian.
“And I am sorry to hear about Ezri.”
Julian suddenly felt uncomfortable in his uniform. He wished he was a Vulcan, perhaps communication wouldn’t be as difficult telepathically.
“I’d- rather not talk about that right now, Garak.”
“Of course, Doctor. How about we go to a local restaurant? I hear that a new establishment has some exquisite Kanar.”
Smiling at the invitation, Julian put his hand on Garak’s ridged shoulder and looked out at the ruined city.
“I’d like that a lot, Elim.”

When the pair entered the restaurant, Julian received lots of strange looks, being the only human in the general vicinity, and a guest of one of the most prominent figures on Cardassia no less. He felt heat prickling up his neck at the attention. Instinctively, Garak chose a table in a corner, where he could easily observe the entire room. He pulled out Julian’s chair for him.
It was at that moment that Julian remembered he had never figured out exactly what this visit was supposed to be. A meeting of old friends? An update on their lives? Or something more? He froze at that thought. He couldn't allow himself to even think about something like that right now. Garak has an entire planet to rebuild, and Julian- well he definitely has something, but he’s too distracted to think about that at the moment.
“Doctor, are you listening?”
“Hm? Oh yes, of course Garak. Something about the Detapa Council.”
Although he appeared to be paying attention, Julian let his mind wander once again, his eyes searching Garak’s face for something, anything, that could possibly hint to what Garak thought this meeting was supposed to be.
Perhaps he was overthinking it. Julian could practically hear what Garak would say if he could hear his thoughts: “Putting too much thought into everything, as usual Doctor. Perhaps it would be helpful for you to use your superior intellect to decipher the true meaning." He was well aware that Garak knew that wasn’t how it worked, but Julian knew that Garak enjoyed tormenting him.
Perhaps that was why Garak had agreed to this meeting, to watch him squirm, just like old times. The thought of this made Julian feel… strange. Not entirely uncomfortable, somewhere between anxious and flustered.
Julian was so lost in thought that he barely noticed the large Cardassian approach their table. He was rather drunk, and wearing an old third order Gul uniform.
“Gul Rusot, how may we help you this afternoon?” asked Garak.
With a squint in Julian’s direction, Gul Rusot let out a snarling noise. Julian thought about stories he had heard of Rusot, remembering that his son was killed by a federation soldier during the battle of Cardassia. He was a Dominion sympathizer then.
“Your kind-” he gestured to Julian’s Federation Uniform. “Killed my boy.”
At that, Garak had seemingly lost almost all of his patience. He stood up and faced the other man.
“Rusot, I think it would be best if you sat down now. My- friend and I are merely trying to enjoy a little lunch, and would appreciate it if we could continue… Uninterrupted.”
The Gul, clearly drunk, seemed to be pondering his next move, glaring at the two of them.
Before he could do anything, Julian stood up. Far louder than he should have been, he attempted to stop this from escalating.
“There is no need for this Garak,” he said, heat building in his cheeks. “I’m not a soldier, Rusot. Just a doctor, and not even a good one at that.”
Russot seemed satisfied with the knowledge of how poorly Julian felt about himself, so he sat down.

After lunch, the two men walked back to Garak’s house in silence. It wasn’t really a house per se, more like a shed. They entered, and Garak poured them each a glass of Rokassa Juice.

“I must say, Doctor, that was rather unlike you just then.”
“Please, educate me, Garak, what exactly did I do that was so out of character?” Julian was still upset from the interaction, it reminded him of wounds still fresh.
“Doctor, would you like to talk about these past few months?” Julian knew what Garak was talking about. He wanted to know if it's Ezri that made him so upset.
“You couldn’t even begin to understand, Garak.” Julian felt tears stinging in his eyes.
“Then please, Doctor. Be so kind as to educate me.”
He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Julian almost fell to the ground as he choked out a sob.
“You don't understand! You couldn’t understand. I was so close. I could have saved her!” he cried. Garak suddenly began to feel the walls closing in. He didn’t know what to do to help him. Garak tried to compose himself. He decided the best course of action would be to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, since he had less than half a clue as to what to say. Julian leaned into the touch, his eyes squeezed shut, and his cheeks wet with tears.
“I’m sorry” Julian whispered, unsure if Garak could hear him. The truth was, he didn’t know what he was referring to. He was sorry to have let Ezri down. He was sorry to have thrown a fit at the restaurant, he was sorry for breaking down in front of Garak.
“I think, perhaps you give yourself less credit than is due, Doctor. As you know well by now, I would have resorted to far more… violent and painful mechanisms than you did in such a situation.

It took Julian a long while to calm down, so once he had, the sun had already set. Now that things had quieted, they drank their Rokassa juice outside, looking at the stars. They were sitting close to each other, close enough where their shoulders rested against each other. The two of them sat together, in a comfortable silence, enjoying the night sky.
After a long while, Julian realized that he had to leave if he was going to get back to the station in time to sleep before his next shift. He turned and looked into Garak’s eyes, which looked like dark pools with this lighting. He questioned what to do: move closer? Get up? Say goodbye? Stay? He decided that his presence was necessary on the Deep Space Nine. He put his hand on Garak’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Garak, I have to go. They need me on DS9.”
“Of course, Doctor. I hope you enjoyed your time on Cardassia.”
“I did, and- I hope to return soon.”
With that, he stood up, brushed his pants off, and started off towards the Rio Grande.
“My Dear Doctor,” Garak said from behind him. “I believe there is hope for you yet.”
“Good Night, Garak.”
As Julian left the atmosphere, he realized that he never found out what the intention behind their meeting was supposed to be. Perhaps that was a question for their next meeting.