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That evening, Garak found Bashir eating solemnly in the replimat.
He barely offered Garak a smile as he sat down across from him.
“Aren’t you and O’Brien usually playing darts about this time on Fridays?” He asked. He immediately regretted it when Bashir winced.
“I’m sorry Garak... I’m afraid I’m not great company tonight,” he sighed.
The human’s face was a canvas for emotion; he was so expressive, just about anyone could tell what he was thinking. Garak wondered how he could go around like that, knowing everyone could practically read his mind.
And today, something was deeply bothering the doctor.
“Nonsense, my dear doctor. Your company is always enjoyable,” he said quietly.
Bashir looked up, surprised by his honesty.
“However,” Garak continued, “The replimat is no place for a proper meal such as dinner. How about Quark’s?”
Bashir shook his head a little more strongly than he had meant to.
“Not Quark’s.”
Garak nodded thoughtfully.
“How about my quarters?”
Bashir thought for a moment, fighting some sort of battle of wills, until giving in.
“I would like that.”
Garak smiled pleasantly.
“We don’t have to debate if you don’t want to.”
Again, a flash of relief across Bashir’s face.
They walked the whole way to Garak’s quarters in silence.
When they got there, Bashir fell into the couch instead of sitting at the table, putting his head in his hands.
“My dear, if I had known you were this tired I would have let you go to bed,” he said softly, sitting down next to him.
“I don’t think I could sleep anyway.”
Bashir looked up at the ceiling, and Garak realized just how hard Bashir had been trying to keep himself together. His eyes glistened with tears and his face was flushed.
“I heard about O’Brien.” Bashir looked at him, and then grimaced.
“He...” his voice was shaky. “He was about to—“ He shook his head. “If I- if I had been late...” tears streamed down his face.
Garak gave in to the overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around Bashir. Damn his sentimentality.
“But you didn’t lose him, dear. He is home, with his wife, getting some much needed rest thanks to you.”
When Garak was a young boy, Mila had told him stories about the Guardians; beings made of light and all that was good. They would seek out those who are suffering, and heal them. Garak had never believed those tales until Bashir saved him from the wire.
The one weakness of the creatures was when they healed others, it was at their own expense. It drained them. Sometimes it could drain them so much, they faded into fog and shadows.
The Guardians help those who are suffering, but no one helps the Guardians when they suffer.
The stories were all about loyalty to the people of Cardassia, and not expecting anything in return for acts of service. But Garak was beginning to realize there was more to it than that.
“For a moment, I thought I was going to lose him.” His voice cracked, and Bashir buried his head into Garak’s shoulder. Oh dear. He was going soft. If Tain was out there somewhere to see him now...
“You are very brave, my dear Julian, to care so deeply for others. It is very dangerous to let others hold your happiness in their hands.” He ran his fingers through Julian’s dark, curly hair.
“More like foolish,” Julian said, echoing Garak’s sentiments.
“I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Oh, how wrong he had been to encourage the doctor to become dark and cynical!
“He’s my friend, Garak. I care about him, and it hurts to see him suffer like this. And as his doctor, I know that if I hadn’t been careful with my words...” his voice trembled, “I could have been performing his autopsy.” He sobbed against Garak, who ran a soothing hand over his back. “I should have known! I should have seen the signs earlier! He’s my friend I should see these things!”
Suddenly, Bashir scrambled up, his face pale.
“Julian? What is it?”
“I have to check on him.” He sprinted out the door, and Garak had to hurry after him.
“My dear, please! It’s late!”
But Bashir didn’t listen, and he ran all the way to O’Brien’s quarters.
He chimed their door, and after a second, Keiko appeared in the doorway.
“Julian? What’s wrong?”
Julian tried to catch his breath.
“Is Miles alright? Where is he?” He peered over Keiko’s shoulder. She gave him an understanding look.
“He’s resting. He’s been doing just fine, no negative side effects from the anti-depressants.”
She hugged him. “I know, I’m worried about him too. But thanks to you, he’s healing, and he’s going to be fine. Thank you, Julian.”
Garak finally caught up, no thanks to the turbo lifts. His pace slowed when he saw that Julian was alright.
“This hasn’t been easy for any of us.” She said, “It’s so hard to see him like this.”
“Are you alright?” Bashir asked.
“Yes. I’m glad he has such a good friend like you.” She pulled back. “He is too. He loves you, Julian. He just doesn’t know how to say it.”
Garak put a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“You are quite fast, my dear.” He nodded to Keiko.
“I’m sorry, Garak.” He looked at his feet. “I needed to know he was alright.”
Keiko smiled, knowing that Julian had someone to take care of him.
“I’ll be sure to call you if his condition changes. I can even give you an update in the morning.”
“Thank you, Keiko. If you need anything at all, someone to talk to, I’m here.”
“Thank you so much, Julian.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “I am forever grateful for you.”
“Good night, Keiko.”
“Good night.” She gave Garak a smile that said: please take care of him, and her door slid closed.
The two returned to Garak’s room, and Julian flushed.
“I’m sorry, Garak, that was really silly of me.”
“It wasn’t, my dear. You have no need to apologize.”
He led Julian back to the couch.
“Thank you Garak. For putting up with me.”
“Julian, you are never a burden. Not to me.” A warm, fuzzy feeling swelled in his chest that he couldn’t fight. He found he didn’t really want to fight it.
He gently guided Julian to lie down, placing his head on Garak’s knees. He looked up into Garak’s eyes, and Garak wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss him and make it all better.
“Garak,” he said sincerely. “Can you promise me something?”
Garak smiled. “That depends, my dear, but I will do my best.”
“Promise me that, if something is wrong, anything at all, if you are unhappy, or hurt, or in any sort of pain, you will tell me?” The conviction in his warm, dark eyes gripped his very core.
“Does that mean every time I nick myself with the seam-ripper I should come to you? If so, you will be seeing a lot of me. I guess that’s what I get for buying bargain tools.”
“Garak I’m serious,” he said, but there was a tiny hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth.
“My dearest, if it will make you happy, I promise I will try.” I’ll promise anything if it makes you happy.
Julian smiled, and it thawed the deep permafrost that had settled in Garak’s bones and melted the ice in his heart.
He knew that he had willingly placed his happiness in Julian’s careful hands. He couldn’t care less how dangerous it was to care about Julian. It was worth it.
“Thank you, Elim.” He said and closed his eyes.
His name had never sounded so sweet.
“Have you ever heard of the Guardians, my dear?”
Julian shook his head, and Garak ran a hand absentmindedly through his hair.
“They are from old Cardassian folk tales.”
He proceeded to tell him a story of a tailor, who lived in a small village.
One day, the tailor wasn’t watching where he was going, and he fell into a hollow filled with umbra vines.
The vines tangled around his limbs and paralyzed him with their toxin, so that they could slowly consume him.
“You tell these stories to children?” Bashir interrupted.
“Shh. Listen, my dear.”
He thought all hope was lost, and was ready to let the vines pull him under, when there was a brilliant light.
Something was untangling the vines, and pulling him out.
When he came to, he was in his home.
In the corner of his room, he saw a Guardian, the one that had rescued him from the vines.
He had never seen a creature so beautiful.
He thanked the Guardian, but the Guardian said that he was merely doing what he was made to do.
Then the tailor saw the Guardian’s hands. They were duller, dimmer than the rest of him.
The tailor asked him what happened, but the Guardian told him not to worry.
But this was a very clumsy tailor, and it wasn’t the last he’d see of the Guardian. And every time he was healed, the Guardian would fade, just a bit.
He wasn’t the only clumsy person in the village, and he had witnessed the Guardian perform miracle after miracle at the cost of himself.
The tailor wanted to yell to everyone to stop getting hurt. At first he thought he was just being greedy and jealous.
But he realized that he cared about the Guardian, even if the Guardian was only helping him to serve the people of the village.
He was so angry with himself for wishing that the Guardian would come to his side every time he got hurt.
The Guardian healed everyone in the village. But who healed the Guardian?
The tailor found every book about Guardians he could, desperately searching for a way to heal him.
And just when he was about ready to give up, he found the answer.
But the cost was high. To heal the Guardian, he would be facing his worst fear.
He was willing to do this for the Guardian. The Guardian had been selflessly sacrificing himself for years. But the most important thing the Guardian did was teach him how to be happy. He taught the tailor how to love.
So the tailor got to work. He created the most beautiful scarf anyone had ever seen. Into every stitch, he poured his trust, his honesty, his love.
It was the talk of the village. Everyone had caught glimpses of it, and they realized who it was for.
And they started creating gifts for the Guardian too.
When the tailor finished his work, the indigo scarf was covered in intricate patterns and so full of love, people swore the embroidery glowed.
But the tailor was worried his gift would not be enough, and did not know he wasn’t the only one creating gifts for the guardian.
One day, someone got gravely hurt in the village. And by the time he had healed the man, the Guardian was so faint, he was almost invisible.
But then, the young daughter of the man ran up to him as he was leaving.
Wait, she cried. I have a gift for you. She handed him a drawing of the whole village giving the Guardian a hug. Then the wife of the man presented the Guardian with a rare blossom that never died.
The rest of the village presented the Guardian with gifts, one by one.
The man he saved approached him second to last.
Thank you, he told him, and gave him a small token, but it held far more value than it appeared to.
The Guardian looked at all the gifts he had been given and bowed his head. The people whispered amongst themselves.
Where was the tailor?
Thank you, the Guardian said. You are all very kind. But he still sounded sad.
I cannot accept these, for I am merely fulfilling my purpose as a Guardian.
Then let them be your armor, the tailor said, and the crowd parted to let him through.
He placed the scarf around him.
Let these gifts protect you, he told him. And no matter what you sacrifice to help others, you will know how much we care about you.
Let my scarf shield you, and you will always be able to heal others.
The Guardian shone so brightly, he could have been mistaken for a star. The fabric he shone through painted the village in glowing colors. No one had seen anything so beautiful.
Because you will always be reminded of just how much I love you, the tailor said, and you will never fade.
Garak looked down, and to his surprise, Julian had drifted off to sleep.
“Of course, you didn’t hear a word I said, did you.” He smiled lovingly.
He carefully picked him up and carried him to his bed, where he removed the other man’s shoes and jacket, and tucked him in.
Then Garak leaned down, and gently kissed Julian’s forehead.
And he swore Julian glowed.