Subject: NEW DS9 - Parting Words [G/B] PG-13
Date: 12 Apr 1996 22:32:09 GMT


Hi folks, long time no post!  *sigh*  All right, here's a little
story I came up with.  A word of warning, it's fairly depressing.

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.

"Parting Words" copyright (c) 1996 by Sophie Masse [PG-13]

~~~

It'd come so fast, Julian hadn't had time to assimilate just how bad 
things had turned out.  All he knew was that his life had seemed 
normal one minute, then turned upside down, inside out, twisting in 
every direction the next.  All because of his friend.

Cardassia was somber that day.  Last time it'd been sunny; Cardassia 
was known for it after all -- always sunny and bright.  But for some
reason, the weather that day was sullen.  Or maybe it was just his 
inner turmoil being reflected around him.  Shaking off the queasy 
feeling, Julian took a deep breath and entered the High Court 
Sentencing Office, his feet carrying him absently through the dark 
corridors and somber halls while his mind drifted off to the ugly 
consequences he was about to face.

He met the appointed Guls in one of the halls, and greeted them 
harshly, his stare accusing as he followed them to yet another room.
They tried to explain it wasn't their decision, but Julian would 
listen to none of it.  As far as he was concerned, the whole planet 
was guilty -- everyone save for that one man being held prisoner in
this dingy facility.  Turning another corner, the Guls stepped aside 
and waved at a door.  "In there," one said curtly, his tone cold as 
he abandoned all hopes to turn the young man's feelings around. 

Barely acknowledging them, Julian pushed at the heavy metallic door 
and was promptly sickened by what he saw beyond it.  

A small sterile white room, ornate with a bed and a plain desk as 
its only furniture.  The lights lining the ceiling were bright, 
angled so no shadows were cast on the floor or walls, giving the 
entire area a sickening feeling of doom.  No windows to provide a 
comforting view outside, no carpet to reassure it's occupant as he 
moved across the cold chalky floor.    

Tears sprang to his eyes as his gaze finally fell on his friend, 
huddled on the bed with a white shirt tucked inside white trousers.  
He looked sullen as he stared off, his chin resting on his arms, 
those in turn hugging his knees close to his chest.  When Julian 
came in, he looked up, yet no smile of recognition or characteristic 
playfulness animated his features.  He simply stared at his friend 
for a few seconds before drifting off to his thoughts again.     

"Garak," Julian sobbed, turning briefly to close the door behind 
him.    

The Cardassian blinked calmly, his face still set in stone as he 
stared at a point beyond his nose.  His chest was rising and falling
steadily,  a little harder than usual considering the circumstances.
As Julian approached him, he noted the tailor's knuckles turning 
white by the force with which he gripped his shoulders. 

"Elim," he called again, this time softer as he climbed unto the 
flimsy bed.  The Cardassian focused on the young man, his vision 
blurred with sudden tears as he followed the slender arms surround 
his broader frame.  Unable to stand being by himself for a minute 
longer, he quickly relaxed into the embrace and clutched at Julian's 
body as though he was a lifeline.

"Julian," he cried, silver tears finally allowed to snake across his
cheeks.  "I'm . . . I'm so afraid," he admitted, his confession 
doubling his tears as he realized how desperately he needed someone 
to confide his fears in.  He knew it was time to put the half-truths 
behind him -- and how ironic that he was left with no time to atone 
properly for his behavior with the kind-hearted doctor.  

"I know," Julian whispered, gently rocking with his charge while 
letting his own tears drop unto Garak's slick raven hair.     

"I don't want it to end like this," he lamented, his whole demeanor 
revealing a different side to the tailor Julian had never seen.  
Gone was his acerbic facade, vanished were the quirky smiles and 
double meanings.  This was Garak -- Elim Garak faced with the 
reality of his fate.  And Julian vowed to stand by him all the way, 
knowing his life would never be the same afterward if he allowed 
himself that kind of emotional torture. 

"I'm here Elim," Julian reassured, tightening his embrace.  "I'm not 
leaving.  I'm staying with you . . . forever."

Garak ducked his head, burying his face inside the crook of Julian's 
arm.  "Forever isn't long enough," he muttered, his voice muffled by
Julian's uniform.  

Feeling the dampness from Garak's tears moisten his arm, Julian 
flinched in distress and pressed his chin hard over Garak's head.  
"I want to stop it Elim," he said, his voice racked with sobs and 
hiccups of sorrow.  "Believe me, I do.  I had to force myself to 
order Sisko away from Cardassia.  Because -- because I knew I wouldn't
be able to resist bringing you back with me . . . back to DS9.  Back 
to our life and to our lunches."  He shook his head, letting his 
tears leak freely.  "I won't be able to stand it Elim . . ."  

Sniffling, Garak straightened up in the doctor's embrace and stared 
at the wide mahogany eyes with similar sorrow, similar regret.  
Added to that was the underlying fear of what was to come.  Julian 
had never seen that look in Garak's pale cerulean eyes, and it 
frightened him.  Desperate to erase the image, Julian closed his 
eyes and leaned forward, brushing his lips against Garak's curved 
gray mouth.  

A moan seeped from the Cardassian's lips before he pulled away.  
"Julian," he whined.  "Don't do this."

"Why?"  The young man reached out, caressing the broad back.  "Elim, 
I want this.  I want -- I want to give you something before you 
leave.  I want to let you know how I feel.  Let me offer you at 
least that . . ."

"I don't want you too!" he cried, stumbling off of the bed.  "Julian 
don't do this, it'll only make things worst!  Please . . . just go 
away.  Forget about me."

"Stop being so stubborn!" Julian retorted, climbing to his feet as 
well.  "If it's my interest you're worried about, forget it!  Elim, 
I want your last hours here to be remotely happy.  Now I don't see 
any of your family here," he said harshly.

Garak closed his eyes and shook his head.  "Stop it . . ."

Julian went on, Garak's sudden pain unheeded.  "And no one will come 
to see you, you -know- that."

The tailor pressed his hands on his ears.  "Julian, stop it."

"You're an exile Elim.  No one cares for you here.  I do, so why 
don't you let me in?  Elim? Elim look at me!" he cried, prying the 
hands away from the tailor's ears.  He opened his eyes, a wild 
savage look dancing across his features.   

"Julian, please, I don't want this . . . it's too --" he struggled 
for words, but his sorrow was overwhelming his speech capability.  
He simply let himself fall to the floor, Julian quickly gathering 
him in his arms.  "I don't want it to end," he whispered again,  
staring off at a distant point.  

Julian brushed his lips across his ear and said, "Elim, let someone 
in.  This is your last chance to open up.  I want to be let in."

Garak looked up at his friend and saw the sincerity of his words 
reflecting in his sinless wide eyes.  He leaned forward and rested 
his head against Julian's narrow chest.  "Just hold me," he 
whispered.  "Don't let me go until the end, and I'll be happy."    

Crying at the inevitably of his statement,  Julian nodded and 
settled against the bed, his hands working the Cardassian's muscles 
diligently, his fingers kneading the tailor, his companion, his best
friend to a troubled sleep.   

~~~

"I'm afraid it's time," the Cardassian woman said upon entering the 
small room where Julian and Garak were still huddled together.  
Having finally managed to lull the tailor to sleep, Julian hushed 
her with a gesture.  She nodded solemnly and advanced on them 
quietly.  A single hypo was in her hand as she knelt beside them.  
She looked up at Julian's red rimmed eyes and raised her eyeridges.  
"Do you want to do it?" she offered.

A look of pure dread washed over his face, promptly replaced by a 
mixture of anger and sorrow.  "Like Hell I will.  This will press on 
your conscience, not mine," he spat in a harsh whisper.

She shrugged nonchalantly.  Obviously, it wouldn't.  "Very well," 
she sighed.  In one decisive movement, the hypo had been pressed, 
triggered, and retracted from Garak's neck.  She looked at him, then 
at Julian and pursed her lips.  "It shouldn't take a minute," she 
informed him before leaving them alone.

When the door closed on her way, Garak stirred in his arms.  A small 
smile was on his lips as he realized whose arms he was waking up 
into.  He tightened his arms around the Human's waist, oblivious to 
the look of utter anguish etched on Julian's face.  "Good morning," 
he mumbled, his voice slurred.  

The young man's lips pursed into a tight line.  "Elim . . ." He was 
about to inform him that it'd been done, but he shook his head.  
Instead, he nuzzled his face against the smooth black hair and 
whispered, "I love you Elim.  And I'll hold you forever."

Garak frowned against him, and understood then what had transpired. 
His body already too weak for him to panic, he slumped into Julian's 
arms, raising his head to rest it across the slender shoulder with 
difficulty.  "Forever," he repeated.  "You promised."

"I did," he whispered.  "And I will."

"I love you Julian," he said, his voice dropping so low Julian was 
pressing his ear to his lips.  "Thank you for holding me," he rasped.

Julian turned to stare into the tailor's eyes, and knew without an
examination that his friend had fallen into eternal sleep.  He 
caressed the smooth cheek,  wiping away the tailor's tears while his 
own replaced them in abundance.  Garak's eyes were still opened, but 
no life carried across his gaze, none of the animation that had fired 
those brilliant cerulean eyes throughout his life.  

Deliberately, Julian reached up and closed them.  He stared a few 
moments at his face, memorizing every ridge, every curve and vowing 
never to forget him.  He then gathered his body into his arms and 
held him until someone came in to separate them.   

Julian was never the same after his friend's parting, just as he'd 
predicted.

THE END


*sigh* Flamme and praise can be sent to soma@johnabbott.qc.ca  

Regards, Sophie