Subject:      NEW DS9: Solitary Monologue (B) [PG-13]
From:         soma@johnabbott.qc.ca
Date:         1997/01/29

DISCLAIMER: 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.

RATING: PG-13

CONTENT: Julian Subatoi Bashir

TIME:  2-3rd DS9 season

~*~*~*~

Solitary Dialogue
by BGM

~*~*~*~

The slash of light which pierced the darkness was a buoy for the
man struggling with death.  It was a small goal, that which he had
set himself; to reach that slash of light.  A rather simple one
for anyone in lesser extremes of circumstances ... but for Doctor
Julian Bashir, it was the only thing that had kept him alive for
the last seven hours.

"Life's a bitch, then you die," he said aloud, not feeling nearly
as foolish as when he had first addressed the unresponsive silence.
He had realized fairly soon that his voice was the only thing that
would allow to keep him company.  He needed it to preserve his
sanity.

He chuckled to himself, then heaved a straining cry as he moved.
Another moment and he collapsed on the floor, panting heavily.
"Juuust resting," he managed between breaths, his forehead pressed
tightly against the thinly carpeted floor.  "Yes, just resting ..."
His breath eventually leveled, bringing forth the slashes of agony
in his body.  Fortunately, the numbness was starting to become
prominent.  He continued to rattle on to himself that rest was
good, even as he broke off abruptly to move forward.

Inch by inch.  That's what it would take.  And Julian Bashir was
no quitter.  He collapsed again then exhaled sharply.  "You still
quiet?" he asked the silence.  "Come on, talk to me, I'm getting
bored here ..."  He listened intently for something, anything, but
no sound returned to his ears.  He shook his head and reached out,
his hand pressing over the leather chest of his friend.  "All
right," he said softly.  "I'll talk.  Let's see ... what did we
leave off yesterday?"  A heave, a cry of agony, then a laugh.
"I'm getting bloody nowhere fast."  He took a moment to rest and
cocked his head.  "So?  You can't remember?  I'll say!"  He laughed
again.  "How can you remember anything?  You just keep staring at
me while I'm talking to you.  It's positively nerve-racking!"  He
chuckled to himself again, wiggling forward slowly, sweat rolling
into his eyes.  "But you know what?"  He paused.  "Sometimes I like
it.  I feel like I could tell you anything without you judging me.
I mean, you've been my friend for a long time ..."  He smiled and
tried again, uttering a whimper.  "Damn ... stupid computer!  Why
the hell did you have to explode like that??  I could have had
help here five hours ago!"

He rolled on the floor, to his side, feeling tears swell in his
eyes.  "Don't worry ... we'll get out of this," he whispered to
his friend, sighing when no response came.  He hated the silence.
It was a dead silence.  "You know ... I never told you this ..."
he hiccuped a mixture of a laugh and a sob and buried his face in
his hands.  "Actually, I've never told this to anyone ... but
there's someone special on the station.  Someone I'd like to get
to know better.  Surprised?"  He looked at where his friend lay
motionless on his side, and he laughed.  "No, I don't suppose it
is ... but it's not what you think, really.  I learned my lesson
with Melora ..."  the silence turned derisive and he frowned.  "I
did!  I swear.  I don't want casual affairs anymore.  I want to
settle down now.  I ... think I could be a good companion to
someone."  He smiled at the question hanging heavily in the air.
"You're dying to know who I'm talking about aren't you?  Well I
won't tell you my friend.  You'll just have to guess ..."

He continued to move forward slowly, wincing as the pain gradually
ebbed, making place for a general numbness that was no more
comforting.  He paused and giggled.  "You know, you're not putting
much effort into this.  All right ... I'll give you a hint."  His
eyes turned dreamy and he sighed.  "At one point we were good
friends.  We still are, but I wish there was something more.  We
share lunch every day now ... and I'm glad.  Weekly lunches were
brutal ... I ... was missing him too much ..."  He smiled and
looked over his shoulder.  "Have an idea yet?  No?  My goodness,
you are thick ..."  He laughed and finally stayed on the ground
unmoving.  The strain of it was too taxing.  He leaned on his fist
and smiled.  "Let's see ... well he's very different from me ...
not at all the type I'd have looked twice at not so long ago."  He
paused and laughed.  "No I won't tell you his race, then you'll
know right away!"  He giggled and flopped his head on the floor in
exhaustion.  "Hmmm ... well he's very beautiful ... a magnificent
man ... with the most handsome name.  And the most incredible eyes
you've ever seen ... oh yes, you must know who I'm talking about,
don't you?  But you'll never speak of this again will you?
Tomorrow this will all be forgotten.  And maybe ... maybe it's for
the best.  Maybe I needed to confess like this ... but maybe I'm
not ready to commit myself to the real thing yet."  He smiled
dreamily and slowly drifted off to unconsciousness.

A few hours later, Julian Bashir was finally found, unconscious on
the floor of his quarters.  He'd evidently tried to reach the
door, by his position, but had abandoned before succeeding.
Behind him the entire wall shelf was on the floor, half collapsed
over the computer console, half on the floor where it had
obviously fallen over him. The few cracked vertebrae had confirmed
that much.

And so the medical staff arrived swiftly and treated him
quickly ... enough to transport him to the Infirmary for surgery.
When the young man and his entourage disappeared within the
transporter light, Koukalaka was left to stare sullenly at the
fallen furniture, longing to return to the shelf where he'd been
so brutally flung from.

THE END

~*~*~*~

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