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“Well, I’m seeing some residual chroniton particles and a few irregular readings in your cerebrospinal nerve cells, typical for a phase shift,” Julian concluded, lowering the tricorder. At least there was nothing alarming. Whenever a new transporter technology was attempted, the risks were high.
The face looking back at him appeared thoughtful. Not confused, which meant this one was probably also a doctor or scientist, and that their universe had similar technology. Or that he was good at hiding confusion, although Garak always made a point of telling Julian that he had a very open face.
“The last time I saw irregularities there, it was when Miles had been exposed to delta isotope radiation and was being pulled around in the timeline by a quantum singularity,” his doppelganger mused.
Julian leaned forward eagerly.
“That happened here as well!” It had begun as a compelling intellectual puzzle for him, but rapidly expanded into inter-species intrigue involving the Klingons and Romulans.
If the other Bashir had experienced the same incident, that meant he had been stationed on Deep Space 9.
“Did you have to run a basilar arterial scan on him?”
“Yes, but I don’t think that will be needed here. Interdimensional travel seems less damaging than time-shifting.” Thank goodness. The last thing Julian needed was to be responsible for killing or harming five other alternate reality versions of himself.
“I’d love to write a paper about it,” the other Bashir remarked, and Julian had to grin. How often had he said the same thing?
“I wonder how many of our memories we have in common.” Was it possible that they had lived completely parallel lives, and this version just happened to not be wearing his uniform when he was transported?
“Quite a number, I’d imagine. I was here on DS9 for nearly five years.”
“You leaving must be the convergence point,” Julian proposed. Perhaps it it had been a promotion or a transfer. It also could have been something worse- last year was when Julian had been kidnapped by the Dominion.
But this double was not a Changeling, based on the blood tests Julian had run, nor did he look like a prisoner.
“It feels strange, being back.” Bashir looked around the infirmary slowly, drinking in the sight. “It hasn’t changed… Is Garak still here?”
“Yes.” Still here, and still infuriating. “What is he like in your universe?”
There was a danger to asking, of course. Not all Garaks were created equal. After his foray into the mirror world with Kira, Julian still sometimes had nightmares about a cold, cruel voice demanding to make an example of him.
But Bashir smiled gently.
“He’s very clever. He lies about everything. He’s one of the most well-read people I’ve ever met, and he’s very good at getting himself into trouble. Does that sound about right?”
It sounded all too familiar, but the look on Bashir’s face was not. Julian might have been clueless, but even he could identify the emotion behind the large, bright eyes and soft smile… was that what he looked like when he talked about Garak?
“That’s him all over. We just had lunch and he was insisting I let him meet all of you.” Garak had been far more entertained by the idea of five Julian Bashirs running around than Julian himself had been.
“I’d have liked to see him, too.” Bashir looked Julian up and down for a moment, then his smile broadened into a grin. “I assume you two aren’t together?”
“Sorry?”
“Together. You know, dating. Or shagging. Goodness knows we’ve done both.”
Julian opened his mouth, but all that came out was a sort of choked sound in his throat. He had thought about it, of course- that is to say, it’s not that he wasn’t interested in Garak- but they weren’t- they had never-
The other Bashir was laughing.
“By your face, I’m guessing not. Too bad. You don’t know what you’re missing,” he said cheerfully.
“How long have you- I mean when did you…” Julian had too many questions tumbling over each other to shape one properly.
“He approached me in the replimat when I was still new on the station- did that happen to you?”
Julian nodded furiously. He still had vivid memories of the electric surge in his body when those hands descended on his shoulders, and frenetically hopping around Ops- the spy approached me!
“Well,” Bashir continued, “after Tahna Los left, he and I started sleeping together.”
“Just like that?” Julian asked incredulously. He had always figured that getting involved with Garak would be more, well, involved.
“He was interested, I was interested, and I figured I was hardly in danger of letting slip any Starfleet secrets while he was sucking me off.”
Julian knew he was turning red, could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. That image was one he had definitely entertained and also decided he would never, under any circumstances, admit to anyone. And here was this other Bashir, blithely discussing sex with Garak as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“So you’ve been together since then?” Nearly six years with Garak! Who would have thought it was possible?
“No, not exactly. I mean, I’m not even sure we were together then. I was sleeping with other people, and I’m pretty sure he was too. But about a year in, he had a- a medical emergency.” Bashir reached up and tapped the back of his head. Julian understood instantly.
“The implant,” he supplied. “Garak went into withdrawal.”
“Yes. He said some nasty things to me. I know he didn’t mean them, but…” Bashir shrugged one shoulder. “Up until that point, it had all been excitement, secretly sleeping with the spy. The wire brought home reality, I think. I realized I cared about him. Far more than I mean to, or than was safe. I realized I would have been devastated if he didn’t survive. That was when he admitted to being in the Obsidian Order, and it was all too much. I was in love with a torturer.”
Julian remembered that feeling. Maybe none of the stories Garak told were true, maybe all of them were, but he was in far deeper than he had ever meant to go.
For Julian, it had solidified that he was and wanted to be Garak’s friend. For this other Bashir, it seemed to have had the opposite effect.
“I know what you mean,” Julian said quietly.
“We kept meeting for lunch and talking about books, but it wasn’t the same as it had been before. I sometimes thought about trying again, but every time I did, something new would happen. Going back to Tain, trying to destroy the Founders’ homeworld… Every time I thought I could trust him, he went and did something I couldn’t accept.”
Another deeply familiar feeling. Whenever Julian thought he had Garak figured out, that was when Garak would go and do something Julian could never have predicted. It wasn’t always bad, on occasion Garak did surprise him by doing something good, but the fact remained that he never quite knew where he and Garak stood.
That was part of the allure, of course. The mystery and the puzzle. It was as compelling as it was off-putting, and it all left Julian feeling tangled and confused.
“So you never got back together with him?” The thought made Julian more melancholy than it should have. He should have felt vindicated. After all, that was why he never tried. He always assumed it would be too much trouble, just to inevitably end poorly, and then he’d have lost even Garak’s friendship.
Bashir looked down, rubbing his fingertips lightly against each other as he spoke.
“Last year, I left to go to a burn treatment conference on Meezan IV. I went to sleep at the hotel one night-”
“And woke up the next morning in the Dominion camp,” Julian finished. That was another constant feature in his nightmares.
Bashir looked up, and Julian wondered if that haunted cast came into his own eyes as well when he discussed being replaced by the Changeling.
“They didn’t notice for you either, did they?”
“No.” Julian ardently, fervently wished he had another answer. “No, they didn’t.”
“Ah.” Bashir glanced down again. “It gave me time to think. About myself. What was important to me. What I wanted to do, if I ever got out. And I got to spend a lot of time with Tain, of course. Then Garak arrived, and I was so pleased to see him. He let me see him. Parts of him that he’d never shown anyone. I understood him better, after that.”
“I couldn’t imagine having Enabran Tain as a father.” Julian had tried, but all he really could decide was that it would have been painful. Dark, and painful.
“No. But I know what it’s like to be a disappointment to your parents.” Bashir knotted his hands together in his lap. “It was their fault. What happened next.”
Julian inhaled sharply, suddenly understanding.
“Zimmerman. He found out, about the genetic enhancements.”
Bashir’s eyes met Julian’s once more. This time, he looked genuinely confused.
“Did that happen here too?”
“Yes, and the JAG office got involved. I was ready to resign, but then Father beat me to it. He cut a deal with Rear Admiral Bennett. He got the prison sentence, and I got to keep my commission.” It was the only decent thing he had ever done for his son, in Julian’s opinion.
“Lucky you.” The sound of Bashir’s voice was ugly. Dangerous. “I mean that. You don’t know how lucky you are.”
“What happened?” Julian asked, not even sure he wanted to know.
“They revoked my citizenship. Federation ideals of tolerance and understanding go out the window as soon as augments are involved. They said I wasn’t even human, and they were going to lock me up in the Institute with the other augments, and the bastards expected me to be grateful, because they were going to let me do research for them. A fucking life sentence, and they wanted me to say thank you.”
Julian felt like an enormous hand was gripping his chest, squeezing the air out of his lungs. That was what he had always feared, and to know that in some reality the nightmare had come true… Breathing was suddenly more difficult.
“How did you get away?” His voice was barely a whisper.
“Garak. I told him that I was an exile and I needed his help, and he got me off the station.”
The grip on Julian’s chest loosened somewhat. At least someone was on his side.
He had the strange urge to call Garak and ask him to come to the infirmary. Why? To thank him for something he hadn’t done in this timeline?
“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”
Bashir’s smile started to emerge again.
“He came with me. I asked him to, although I wasn’t sure if he would. I knew, or at least I thought I knew, that I was never going to be his first loyalty. But Tain was dead and Dukat had sold Cardassia to the Dominion. We both only had each other.”
“So you two are…”
“Together.” Bashir’s voice was firm but tender.
Julian wanted that. That quiet, irrefutable love. That sense of safety, with one person at least.
He wanted it with a deep ache in his heart that he was almost scared to vocalize.
“I always…” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. About Garak. But there always seemed to be too many ways it could go wrong.”
“It’s not easy. I mean, you know Garak, that goes without saying. But it’s worth it. I don’t want easy, if it was I’d get bored. I want someone who challenges me, someone who sees the worst parts of me and isn’t afraid. Do you remember, on T’Lani Prime, when I told Miles that I didn’t want to get married because I thought it was the end of any adventures? He was right, and I was wrong. Marriage is an adventure. It’s having a companion on whatever journey you want to take.”
“You two are married?” Married to Garak!
Bashir laughed.
“Not exactly. Not yet. But I think we might as well be.”
“We’re from different universes. Your Garak isn’t the same as mine.” Who was Julian trying to convince, himself or Bashir?
“I’m not telling you what to do,” Bashir said gently. “I’m only telling you what I did.”
Yes, but if Julian wanted to? What then?
He couldn’t just go and confess to Garak, could he? It wouldn’t be as simple as that.
Nothing with Garak was simple. But perhaps it would still be worth a try.