This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products 
of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or 
locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.   
 
STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE is a Registered Trademark ® of Paramount Pictures. 
Copyright (c) 1996 by Paramount Pictures. All Rights Reserved. No infringement was 
meant. 
 
"Innocence" copyright (c) 1996 by BGM - PG-13 
 
Note 1) At the risk of losing my title as 'B/G slash slut machine' as I'm so lovingly 
referred to by my fellow slash sisters, I'm attempting a piece of a somewhat romantic 
nature.  
 
Note 2) Oh BTW, Jennifer Shipp was a HUGE inspiration for this one. Not only did she 
help me find the title, but her story Protector got me so sad, I had to release the sorrow 
into something -- which just happened to be this little thing I'd already started.  Thanks 
Jen!  You're a doll. 
  
~~~ 
 
Julian Bashir mumbled half-dozingly to himself as he rolled over onto his side; a 
movement he never quite completed when the unmistakable presence of a body halted his 
intention, rousing him further. Wryly, he pondered not for the first time that the only 
drawback to this relationship was that he couldn't use his whole bed as often anymore.  
 
Chuckling at the selfish thought, he settled his face against the pillow. "Mmmh, 
computer, what time is it?" he slurred.   
   
"It is presently 0645." 
 
"Damn," he mumbled wearily against the pillow, eyes barely open as he realized he only 
had fifteen minutes to prepare. Next to him, Elim Garak snored softly under the covers he 
had selfishly tugged to himself, unaware of the stirring beside him.  
 
*Look at him,* Julian thought affectionately.  *I wish I owned a business. Could bloody 
sleep in the morning.* He sighed and moved to an upright position, shivering in the cool 
air.  
 
*Really must speak with the Chief about the temperature,* he thought, his lower lip 
quivering as he rubbed his bare arms for warmth. He couldn't really blame Garak for 
taking all the covers for himself. Given his nature, Julian knew the ambiance felt much 
colder to him than to Humans.        
 
Smiling, he leaned sideways and nuzzled his face in the bend of Garak's neck. "Wake up 
sleepy head . . ." he whispered softly, trailing lazy kisses along the jaw scales. 
 
Garak shifted slightly under the sheets, chuntering a string of incoherencies. Yet Julian's 
unrelenting ministrations finally roused the Cardassian, and he happily turned to 
accommodate the young man. "Mmh," he smiled with a sigh. "I'll never tire of waking up 
like this," he whispered, reaching out to stroke the dark curls. 
 
Julian pulled himself into the Cardassian's arms and smiled against the grayish lips. "You 
know I love you don't you?" 
 
Garak closed his eyes and pressed his intricate forehead against Julian's. "Oh yes. And 
you, dearest Julian, have made me a very happy Cardassian." 
 
The young man laughed and tried vainly to disentangle himself from Garak's hold. 
"Elim..." 
 
"Yes?"  
 
He laughed. "Elim, I can't get up with your hands around my waist." 
 
"That's the point, love. Besides, I doubt you woke me up simply to wriggle yourself out 
of my hands, now did you?" 
 
He chuckled again, clawing at Garak's steel hold. "Elim, I have to get up!"  
 
"Whyever for? Were you not comfortable where you were? In my arms . . . I thought you 
enjoyed being curled up against me." 
 
"Oh don't you dare lay the guilt trip on me," Julian warned, the severeness of his tone lost 
as he suddenly erupted into laughter from Garak's tickling.  "Oh -- no! El--Elim! Stop it!" 
He broke into another fit of giggles as the Cardassian sat up and pinned the young man 
on the bed. His fingers traced feather-light paths along the slender rib cage and Julian 
threw back his head as more laughter bubbled in his throat.  "Elim, you know I hate that!" 
he managed. 
 
"Judging from your reaction, I have a hard time believing that."  
 
"Oh you are a monster!" Julian snickered. "Come here." He pulled the Cardassian closer 
and both plundered each other's lips in a profoundly loving kiss. Breathing hard as 
passion quickly ignited their bodies once again, both men rolled over in a frenzy of 
kissing and caressing, rekindling the ardent fire which had burned the night before. All 
thoughts of sleep drifted a mile away. 
 
Yet out of the blue, Julian's combadge beeped, and both men groaned loudly in protest. 
Lost in the closeness of Garak, Julian quickly forgot about the interruption -- until it 
chimed again.     
 
"Damn it!" he cried, reaching out from under Garak to retrieve his insignia. With an 
angry press, he opened the channel and practically shouted into the com. "What is it??" 
 
"Medical emergency, Doctor. Keldor Province has been struck with an outbreak of 
Kelani fever. We need you on the freighter Hektor right away." 
 
"I'm on my way," he answered quickly. He turned to Garak and pressed a hurried kiss on 
the Cardassian's forehead. "I'll see you later Elim. Dinner?" 
 
Garak watched as Julian rushed to get dressed. "Of course. I'll prepare you some Taspar 
eggs tonight," he grinned impishly.  
         
Julian paused briefly to grimace. "I never tried that." 
 
"You'll love it. Did I mention they were an aphrodisiac on Cardassia?" 
 
"They are?" Julian asked with renewed interest, struggling into his uniform. 
 
Garak propped himself up. "Well, not really. But I'm sure you and I can pretend they 
are." 
 
Julian grabbed his medkit and grinned broadly. "I can't wait to sample them . . . and a few 
other things as well," he winked. He blew a kiss at Garak and added, "It shouldn't take me 
long. Maybe we can even catch lunch together. I'll contact you when I get back." 
 
"I'll be waiting. Good luck on Bajor!" Garak threw at the departing young man. When he 
was gone, the tailor settled into the bed covers and sighed contentedly. Finally his life 
was beginning to bring him some shred of happiness.   
 
~~~ 
A couple of hours later . . . 
 
Commander Jadzia Dax was shaken.  
 
Recent events had given her sparse moments to think about the actual incident, yet now 
she allowed herself to become worried, and sad. And reluctant on bearing the news she 
had to bear. But it had to be done.  No sense in allowing him to learn it from a wandering 
rumor or from the station's general news.  
 
No.  
 
This required a personal exchange -- as difficult as such an exchange would prove. 
 
She stepped inside the small shop.  
 
As she did so, her gaze wandered to the multi-colored racks, adorned with silks and 
scarves and fabrics from all over the quadrant. She remembered purchasing a gown here, 
and had vowed never to sample any other clothing shop. The resident tailor certainly had 
fashion taste, and incredible designer's talent. 
 
She cleared her throat, rousing said tailor from his work. When he caught her sight, he 
smiled expansively and moved to greet her. "Commander Dax! What a lovely surprise. 
Let me guess . . . Jartonian swim wear? Oh I know," he smiled impishly, raising a finger. 
"A Klingon suvwI' dress . . ." 
 
Dax remained impassive, yet a glint of sorrow swam within her cerulean depths. Blue 
stared back at blue, one becoming quickly concerned. "Is something wrong 
Commander?" 
 
"Garak . . ." she said the name quickly, closing her eyes and fighting desperately not to 
let warm tears roll down her cheeks. She felt the tailor's hand on her arm and when she 
looked up, all traces of acerbity or humor was gone from the Cardassian's features. He 
was genuiningly worried, and mutely encouraging her to go on. She swallowed and 
added, "It's about Julian . . ." 
 
The hand fell away. His face changed ever so slightly, settling into a look of struggling 
worry. "Oh? What about him?" he asked, even as he tried vainly not to entertain wild 
impossible theories on what might have happened to his beloved Julian. What could be 
grave enough to shake the unflappable Trill? 
         
"He's been in an accident," Dax went on, her voice straining. Garak's heart lurched. "On 
Bajor, during the evacuation in Keldor Province. He's . . . it's not serious," she said. "He 
was caught in a skirmish and he fell against a computer console. But . . ." she shook 
slightly and realized she had to sit down. Garak quickly slid a chair in position and let her 
sink into it gratefully. He pressed against the edge of his terminal, leaning forward and 
intent on her every word. "He hit his head pretty hard. Hard enough to disrupt some of his 
neural pathways. He's not debilitated or anything, but he's lost all memory of who he 
is. Garak," she cried, looking up. "He's forgotten everything. Medical practices, his name, 
his past, his friends . . ." at the last word, tears pushed against her eyes and finally fell 
unbidden. "Everything," she added mutely. 
  
"Where is he?" he asked, his voice catching. 
 
"Resting in the infirma- Garak!" She stood up and followed the Cardassian as he rushed 
out of the shop.  After a moment, she sat back down with a sigh. Could she blame him?  
 
~~~ 
 
"... Julian?" 
 
The Infirmary was quiet - dimmer than usual. As Garak walked inside the ICU, he found 
himself nauseated at the medical smell reaching his nostrils - he wondered lazily why it 
had never bothered him before.  
 
"Julian?" he ventured again, only now realizing that the young man might be sleeping.    
 
A scornful chuckle rid the speculation away. Garak swiveled toward its origin and saw 
him. Saw his beloved Julian sitting up amidst sparkling covers, face ashen and a 
computer implant latched to his temple. Yet he smiled and shook his head. "I still have to 
get used to that I suppose . . ." he commented, sighing ruefully. 
 
Garak approached the bed silently. "Get used to what?" he inquired softly. 
 
"That name," he replied, still shaking his head. "It sounds so . . . foreign. I --" he broke 
into a despondent chuckle. "Damn frustrating when you don't know who you are." 
 
At last Garak was near enough to see each of Julian's features clearly. His heart nearly 
tore at the sight. "And you have no recollection of who *I* am?" the tailor prodded, 
sitting down at the edge of the bed.  
 
For the first time Julian looked up, and promptly studied the Cardassian's features with 
every attention. "You're different," he remarked suddenly, surprising the tailor. 
 
"I beg your pardon?" 
 
Julian brought his hands to his face, tracing there the smooth skin. "You're different from 
me. What are you?" he asked with interest, focusing large avid eyes on Garak. 
 
Garak turned away, heaving a rankled sigh. So it was true. His Julian was gone. He had a 
sudden urge to beam down to Bajor and assassinate the one who'd cause him to fall. 
Perhaps he would at that. He brought his hands to his mouth as he leaning on his knees. 
What would he do?  
 
"I was your friend," he replied after a moment, the very words lancing his heart. But he 
wouldn't tell him.  Julian had a long path to forge -- no sense in complicating the labor by 
throwing in another problem.  Besides, what would he think if he realized he'd been a 
lover to this strange reptilian creature?    
 
He sighed again. "We were friends, good friends in fact. You were the only one who 
made my stay here remotely bearable." He knew the words wouldn't mean anything to the 
amnesic young man, but Garak needed to say it, needed to acknowledge what Julian had 
done for him. 
 
For his part, Julian was fascinated by the Cardassian's textured skin. He swept the raven 
mane of hair with caressing eyes, drinking in the exotic sight of this being who claimed 
himself to be his friend. Had they ever been more? Tentatively, he reached out and traced 
an eyeridge with curiosity. "Such difference . . . you remind me of something . . ." he 
frowned, trying to recall what it was. Instead, he concentrated his attention to the scales 
rounding the man's jaw.  
 
Garak closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as he allowing the scrutiny. He felt sudden 
shame in deriving pleasure from it. The young man's slender fingers, now touching him 
for purely curious intents, sent a thousand shivers scurrying down Garak's body, and it 
was all he could do not to turn around and sweep the young man into his arms once 
again.  
         
"Julian . . ." he whispered, trying desperately not to turn around and lose himself in those 
wide sinless pools of hazel eyes. 
 
"What's your name?" he asked suddenly, retracting his touch. 
 
The tailor cleared his throat. "Garak . . ." he said dryly, swallowing quickly to remove the 
bitter taste. He smiled fatalistically. "Enabran Garak. Elim was my brother, Tain was my 
father and Mila was my mother." 
 
Julian frowned, staring at the strange being as he turned. He offered a sinuous smile and 
cupped the young man's hands in his own. "Elim Garak. Tain was my lover, Dukat was 
my father, Mila was my confidante and Madred was my brother. I could tell you anything 
and you'd believe me. Because you have no idea of who I am -- no more of a clue than 
when you first met me. Obsidian Order, exile, Cardassia . . . they're all just words to you . 
. . they don't mean anything do they?" 
 
Julian fixed the tailor with unwavering eyes. Innocent mahogany eyes which questioned 
the odd man's motives. Garak breathed deprecatingly and slipped his hands away. "No 
meaning at all." 
 
The young man leaned forward. "Maybe they are just words. But if we were friends, then 
start over. Tell me everything again." 
 
Garak raised his moist eyes to the ceiling, sniffing scornfully. "I can't tell you everything 
again . . . I never told you anything. Our whole relationship was based on lies. *My* 
lies." 
 
Julian pursed his lips. "Not a very healthy relationship then. If you were such a good 
friend, why did you lie?" 
 
Garak tilted his head and closed his eyes. "I never said I was a *good* friend." 
 
"Well maybe that's because you used to lie." 
 
The tailor snapped opened his eyes and turned sharply. "You never knew I lied. You 
believed me. You believed everything. Even the truth when I casually slipped it amidst 
the duplicity." He turned away again, as though Julian's sight was too painful. "I betrayed 
your trust."  
  
As though Garak's presence was suddenly uncomfortable, Julian inched away. "Then why 
are you here?" 
 
Garak winced at the cold detachment. "I -- I wanted to see if you were all right. 
Regardless of the lies, I did care for you. We were good friends." 
 
Julian stared at him, wondering who this mysterious creature was all about. Garak smiled 
softly and climbed to his feet. "Elim Garak," he said quietly. 
 
"What?" 
 
"My name. It's Elim Garak." 
 
Julian narrowed his eyes. "Well, it's nice to meet you Mr Garak." 
 
Garak shook his head, turning toward the exit. "It's just Garak. Plain, simple Garak." 
Pushing down the ironic chuckle that bubbled in his throat, he glanced at Julian and 
nodded once. "I could return later if you wish to learn more about my race." 
 
Julian cocked an eye. "All right," he nodded, then smiled. "But I'd rather you come back 
to teach me more about *you*."  
 
~~~ 
 
The day after . . . 
 
"How can he talk and know how to eat and breathe if he's forgotten everything?" 
 
Jadzia crossed her legs and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I don't fully understand it 
myself. One of his nurses told me the damage to his brain was systematically localized. 
Functional memories weren't affected. He knows how to breathe, talk, walk and behave 
normally. But cognitive memories were wiped away. All his medical training, people, 
places, everything else is gone." 
 
Kira widened her eyes. "What is he going to do?" 
 
Jadzia let out a fleeting, bitter laugh. "Relearn everything I suppose. Go to school, learn 
the constellations, find out about Bajorans, Cardassians, Romulans . . . I think he was 
more interested in the fact I had spots on the side of my face than . . . well, what Julian is 
usually interested in," she smiled wryly. 
 
Kira grinned. "You mean he didn't flirt at all?" 
 
"Oh after I told him what I was, he launched into his normal routine. I swear, it was like 
the first day we met all over again . . ." Her face sobered and an unmistakable sorrow 
could be read. "He's got a long way to go . . . There's always a chance he'll recover his 
memories, but for now . . . he has an extremely long way to go."      
 
Kira nodded knowingly. "What about Garak?" 
 
As though the thought of the Cardassian had just struck her, Dax leaned back and buried 
her face in her hands. "Oh Garak! I think he'll need more counseling than Julian himself." 
She peered at Kira. "You should have seen him Nerys. I've never seen him so shaken. I 
think he practically sprinted to the infirmary, almost knocking my chair in the process!"  
         
"And just when those two were getting close . . ." whispered Kira morosely. "The 
Prophets can be cruel sometimes . . ." 
 
~~~ 
 
O'Brien sat at Quark's bar, gloomily turning a glass in his hands. He stared at it 
unseeingly, pondering on the recent events which had -- quite unexpectedly -- turned his 
friend into a stranger. Or rather, had turned *him* into a stranger.  
 
"Mind if I joined you Chief?" 
 
O'Brien looked up with a start, seeing the Cardassian tailor standing mere inches from 
him. Repressing a grimace, he waved at the seat next to him. 
 
"Might I have a glass of kanar?" he asked Quark. When the Ferengi stepped away to 
fulfill his order, Garak leaned over the counter.  
 
After a moment, O'Brien cleared his throat. "So how's Julian?" he inquired, knowing 
Garak had been with the young man far more often than any of the others combined. 
 
Without glancing at the engineer, Garak shrugged. "Why don't you go visit him and find 
out for yourself?" 
 
O'Brien directed a sharp glare at the tailor, yet found himself unable to reply. He realized 
he hadn't gone to see Julian since the accident. "I wouldn't know what to say," he 
dismissed, returning his attention to his glass. "He wouldn't recognize me any--" 
 
"He doesn't recognize me either," Garak interrupted harshly. "But I make an effort." With 
a sigh, he reached for the kanar Quark had placed on the counter.  
 
"That's different." 
 
"Is it?" Garak turned in his stool and studied the Irishman. "What was your relationship 
with him?" 
 
Struck by the odd question, O'Brien fidgeted uncomfortably without returning the stare. 
"We were friends," he said curtly, promptly cloaking his mouth in his ale.   
 
Garak nodded. "Good friends, I gather. In fact, I can't deny being slightly incensed when 
Julian began canceling our lunches to pass his time with you." 
 
"Sorry." 
 
"Don't be. I realized he was doing it out of diffidence toward me. Our relationship was 
moving too fast for him. He needed time to gather his thoughts." His brilliant blue eyes 
narrowed fractionally. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but you both became very good 
friends during that time." 
 
"We did." 
 
"Then why are you here sulking and not at the infirmary rebuilding his memories?" 
 
O'Brien was stunned at the tailor's apparent concern for *his* friendship with Julian. He 
swiveled round and studied the Cardassian's face. For once, he noted the lack of acerbity 
in the sharp features. No amusement, no irony, just a general weariness etched on his 
gray features. "Because I wouldn't know where to begin," O'Brien spat. "We just started 
being friends. What's the use?" 
 
Not so obvious pain reflected in the Cardassian's eyes. "I loved him for three years Chief 
. . . three years of tormenting and berating myself -- knowing he would never share my 
love. Barely a week ago he proved me wrong. I was the happiest man alive during that 
time, only to have it all explode in my face yesterday.  He's gone -- *my* Julian is gone, 
and I can't bear waiting another three years for us to rebuild our relationship. You have a 
couple of months to recapture . . . a task easily done. Don't throw it away." 
 
Clearing his throat, Garak grasped his kanar and climbed to his feet. Resting an 
uncharacteristically affectionate hand on the engineer's shoulder, he added, "Julian needs 
as many friends now more than ever.  He's alone. He doesn't know anyone. In spite of 
what you may think of me, do me this one favor Chief; spend some time with him. 
Become his friend. Because I don't know if *I* can."   
 
In a whisper, he was gone, leaving O'Brien to stare down at his synthale and feeling a 
particularly stabbing guilt piercing his soul.   
 
~~~ 
 
"It's Kira, right?" 
 
The Bajoran smiled as she stepped into Julian's quarters. "That's right. How are you 
feeling?" 
 
"Better. My head doesn't hurt anymore, which I suppose is good. And I'm starting my 
scholarship tomorrow." 
 
Kira frowned. "Starfleet is allowing it?" 
 
Julian shook his head. "I'm no longer in Starfleet. At least that's what the Captain told 
me." 
 
"So you're starting over." 
 
Julian nodded. "When I've learned everything, I'll reapply. I just hope they'll accept me." 
 
"I have no doubt. You were a great doctor." 
 
Smiling wryly he moved to his replicator. "Do you want something?" 
 
"No thanks," she smiled. "So are you finding everything you need in the database?" 
 
"Oh yes. And Garak is helping me a lot.  In two days he's taught me a great deal.  
Cardassians, Bajorans, Klingons. At least I have a marginal idea of what's going on."  
 
"Well that's good." 
 
"Tell me something . . ." Julian said quietly. He moved toward the Bajoran and sat down 
in front of her.  "What was my relationship with him before the accident?" 
 
~~~ 
 
A week later . . . 
 
"Tell me about the Occupation." 
 
Garak looked up with a start, and shifted position uneasily in his chair. "Julian, you might 
want to ask someone else about that." 
 
The young man turned away from the replicator, frowning. "Why?" 
 
"Because I'm not the most objective person to tell you about it." 
 
"Which is why I'm asking you," Julian countered. He pursed his lips in annoyance. "Oh 
damn . . . Garak, what do I usually drink? I can't seem to choose something from all these 
things . . ." he complained, scanning the broad menu.  
 
"Tarkalean tea," Garak said simply, lost in his thoughts. 
 
Content, Julian took the cup and went to sit in his chair, curling his feet under him. 
"Well?" 
 
Garak looked up. "Hm?" 
 
"What about the Occupation?" Julian repeated, taking a sip at the hot liquid. He displayed 
a momentary flicker of surprise at how good it tasted, yet promptly focused his attention 
on his friend.  
 
"Why don't you read about it in the computer?" Garak suggested. 
 
"I already did." At the Cardassian's confused look, Julian shook his head. "I want to know 
more. You must have been there. Tell me about it. Please Garak, I need to know as much 
as possible." 
 
"Well - As you should know, I was employed in the Obsidian Order . . ."  
 
"What was that?" Julian asked eagerly. 
 
"It was an organization that. . . well, that is -- it was a Cardassian service which . . ." 
Garak winced. He shook his head and jumped to his feet. "This is useless! Julian, I can't 
do this. You're asking me to compress three years into a few weeks . . . I can't do it . . . it's 
too painful." He turned away, intent on cloaking the angry tears burning his cheeks. "You 
can't possibly imagine how hard it is for me to see you like this . . . looking at me and 
seeing someone you met just a week ago. Dear Julian, I love you but I--" 
 
"What did you say?"    
 
Garak widened his eyes. "What?" 
 
He felt Julian get up and approach him. His back tensed, and his hands curled into tight 
fists. "You said you love me," whispered the young man. 
 
"Yes . . . you were my friend . . ." 
 
"You didn't mean it like that," Julian argued, moving closer. "Elim . . . why don't you tell 
me the truth?  Dammit, you said so yourself our whole relationship used to be based on 
lies. Change that! Start over." 
 
"I can't," Garak cried, bowing his head. "I can't start over. I love you . . ." He turned to 
Julian and noted how close the young man was. If he would lean in, he could almost 
touch his lips with his own . . . "I always loved you, but this isn't right. You'll hate me if I 
reveal myself to you." 
 
"Elim, I don't understand . . ." 
 
Garak moved away, toward the viewport where he leaned his forehead to gaze at the 
stars. "When I first met you, I was determined to keep my past hidden from you. I 
realized you were too important for me to throw away your company by telling you the 
truth. So I lied. And you believed me." He shook his head.  "But as I got to know you, I 
realized that my guilt was quickly surpassing any other concerns I might have initially 
felt. Keeping the truth from you was becoming more difficult with each passing day. I 
wanted to tell you everything, but I was afraid. And then when we finally decided to push 
our relationship to another level, I was too happy to even notice my guilt." 
 
"So where's the problem?" 
 
Garak closed his eyes, tears streaming his cheeks. "I know you too well now. Lying to 
you would be impossible. Yet if I'm truthful with you, I'll lose you. Either way, I would 
destroy our relationship. And I'm not sure I can even remain your friend, knowing we 
could be so much more together."   
 
"You're not making sense." 
 
Garak laughed bitterly. "Am I supposed too? Does love *ever* make sense?" He left the 
port and walked toward Julian. He took his hands in his own and stared deeply into his 
friend's -- his lover's eyes. "If I chose to remain distant now, you wouldn't mind. After all, 
you don't know me. Perhaps it's best like this.  For both of us."  
 
"No," Julian frowned. "It's not. Dammit, I had a life before, and I'm determined to come 
back to it. If you were part of it, I still want you to try. Just tell me the truth. If I truly 
loved you, I won't turn you away.  Please Elim, make an effort."   
 
The tailor shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's beyond me. I'm sure you'll be able to learn 
everything from Chief O'Brien, or Commander Dax . . ." 
 
"I don't *know* those people!" Julian cried, almost hysterical with fright. "Garak, I don't 
know myself. You're the only thing that's been there for me. I've had people come to me 
and act all sympathetic and sad around me, but none of them has made an effort to *tell* 
me who they were, what they meant to me.  You're the only one who's been supportive 
and caring. If you go now, I won't survive!" 
 
"Oh Julian," Garak whispered, caressing the smooth golden cheek. "You'll survive. 
You're a strong man.  You don't need me . . ." 
         
"Right now, I need you more than I need myself. You're my link . . . you hold everything 
that I ever was in here," he tapped at the Cardassian's temple. "And I won't let you go 
until you tell me everything. Not just about me, but about you, and about us. Please . . ." 
 
"Julian . . . you're not making this easy for me." 
 
"Good! I'll be damned if I do. You can't expect to come into my life and tell me we were 
once lovers and just go away. It's not fair. You're the only thing in this stupid universe 
that I can count on right now." He clutched his sides and moved away. "Do you *know* 
how frightening it is to wake up and not know who you are or *where* you are? It's like 
someone just robbed me of everything and put me in a place I've never been before. 
People who I learn were once my friends are now strangers, places which once meant 
something to me alien. I'm alone Garak. . ." he said softly, ducking his head and letting 
his warm tears flow. "And if you go, I'll just break apart. You're the only thing keeping 
my sanity intact." 
 
"I'm not good for you!" Garak cried angrily. "I'll only hurt you more if I *don't* leave. I 
don't want to go through this again. It's been hard enough for me to keep my past from 
you the first time . . . I won't risk it a second!"  
 
"Well who fucking cares about your past!?" Julian bawled, jerking his head up. "Invent 
something, anything. Stick with the stupid lies if you want. Just don't leave me! Gods, 
don't you realize I want this? I don't care what you did Garak. I don't care about your 
past, I care about now. I mean, who better than me to concentrate on the present right? If 
lying is too hard, don't say anything. Just be with me. Tell me stories. Talk to me, laugh 
with me, do anything. I don't want to feel alone like this anymore." 
 
Something in Garak clicked. He marched over to Julian and enlaced the young man 
tightly in his arms. The sudden comfort of his embrace brought Julian to fresh tears, and 
he cried silently against Garak's shoulder, bringing his arms around the stocky frame and 
squeezing tight as though his life depended on their closeness. 
         
"I'll stay," he murmured. "For you I'll stay, and I'll love you like you should be loved. I 
promise you, you'll never feel alone again." 
         
"Thank you," Julian cried, his voice muffled by the thick fabric.  
 
Garak pressed his head to Julian's, tears of his own veiling his bright blue eyes. "No 
worries . . ." he whispered soothingly, caressing Julian's tousled curls. He realized at that 
moment that he'd been given a precious gift . . . a chance to start anew with his beloved 
Julian . . . a fresh *honest* start. 
 
THE END