AN: It might be worth mentioning (if I haven't already) that I'm a psychology major a little over halfway through my undergrad. I feel as though the writers of DS9 both underused and misrepresented Ezri's psychology background. That does show in my interpretation of her.
Jadzia sat at the computer station in the Spartan guest quarters. She'd been recording and erasing messages to various connections for the better part of the night and into the early hours of the morning. Nothing was coming out right. Each time she finished a draft, she told the computer to erase it and restart the file. And after she'd get too frustrated trying to write to one friend, she'd give up and move to another. And another. And another.
She pushed back away from the desk and let out a frustrated huff. How do you tell somebody that you'd just come back from the dead? A death you don't even remember?
She realized why it was so frustrating. Usually, you use a letter to tie up loose ends, but in her case, she didn't even know what those loose ends were.
"Computer, access all station logs regarding deaths on DS9."
"There are five hundred and seventy three files relating to accounts of crew, merchant, and visitor deaths aboard Deep Space Nine," came the computer's usual monotone reply.
"Filter results to references to Chief Science Officer, Jadzia Dax."
The computer chirped it's confirmation. Sixteen files remained on screen.
"Computer, begin playback..."
"Are you sure you're up for this?" O'Brien said as he walked along the corridor, matching his stride to Ezri's.
"It's the first thing I'm sure of all day," Ezri answered. "If they're going to hear it, they should hear it from me."
"You still don't think it's a good idea to invite Jadzia to meet us at the airlock?"
"No," Ezri answered, perhaps a little too fast, "... No."
O'Brien was silent.
"I know what you're thinking, Chief, but trust me, this is the rational choice. They need to be eased into this slowly. There's no reason to give them the shock this gave us yesterday."
The transport was already unloading by the time the pair had turned the corner. After a few seconds Dr. Bashir and the Colonel each stepped through the airlock. They seemed locked in a solemn conversation. Maybe discussing Bajor's next steps in recovering from the plasma storm. When their gazes moved out across the promenade, Ezri and Miles smiled and waved, catching the eyes of their comrades. They reciprocated and the four started towards each other.
But then - something stopped Nerys and Julian dead in their tracks. Their smiles quickly fled from their faces, replaced with blank stares. The hand Bashir had on his shoulder bag went slack. His regulation Starfleet pack nearly knocked over a passing Bajoran, who gave him an angry glare as they swerved to avoid him, muttering a few unsavory terms under their breath as they did.
O'Brien turned around to see what had caught their sights. But Ezri didn't have to turn. She could tell from the looks on their faces: at the end of the hallway, Jadzia stood and watched her friends step back onto the station.
I never was very good at doing what was appropriate.
"I- I don't understand," Bashir was saying. It seemed as though he hadn't blinked since exiting the transport shuttle. Ezri and O'Brien had managed to corral them all - Nerys, Julian, Jadzia - into the Commander's office off of Ops. At least there they could have some privacy without stopping traffic.
"How is this possible?" Kira was saying.
"It was a fluke. One-in-a-million transporter failure."
"'Failure'?" Julian exclaimed, "I wouldn't call raising the dead a 'failure,' Miles. More like a small miracle."
Jadzia was saying, "It's good to see you both. You wouldn't believe the day I've had." She embraced them. Kira jumped slightly, as if surprised to have been met with solid mass, and was silent.
"I should say not! Back from Stovokor must be tiring, even for you."
"Stovokor?" Jadzia asked.
"Yes, of course. Worf made sure of that. Well, Worf, Martok, Quark, Miles, and I."
"Quark?"
"Indeed! He-"
"—Julian."
It was Kira's sudden, soft but demanding tone that paused the energized conversation. Julian shot her a confused look, seeming almost insulted. But Kira's eyes shifted to the corner of the office and Julian's gaze followed.
Ezri was standing off towards the shadows. She'd hardly spoken - or been spoken to - since they'd walked in.
"Ah..." Julian said, instantly deflating. "Ezri, I... well, surely you know I didn't mean any-"
"No," Ezri was already cutting him off, "No, no, of course not. You all need some time to, you know, get reacquainted. I'll just go. Let you all catch up."
She exited the room and quickly headed for the lift. But before she could get the command to initiate, Julian was already by her side. She could image the way Kira and O'Brien had probably all but chased him from the room to run her down.
"Ezri, wait, please..."
"It's fine, Julian, really."
"It's just that I-"
"I know."
"It isn't that I don't- that is to say, I-"
"I know. I do, really." Dax was biting her tongue and not looking him in the eye, fighting away irrational tears, and it was showing. Her face was growing flushed. Julian moved to embrace her, but she deflected, moving into the corner of the lift.
"You just got a dear friend back. Regardless of who I am to you, or to this," she motioned vaguely between herself and the doors to the office. No doubt Kira and O'Brien were peering through the glass to observe if Bashir's attempts to quell her were going successfully. But if they were, Ezri couldn't see them now. "You loved- you love her."
"I - well, I-"
"You do..." she took a few deep breaths and finally found her strength. "Even if you love me. And Julian, she loves you. I know that."
His eyes grew softer. Dax offered him a small, sympathetic smile. "Go be together," she said, "Really, I'll be alright. This is all just going to take time."
"But I want to be there for you, Ezri."
"And you will be," she said. "But later. After."
"...Alright."
"Alright."
They stared at each other for a few seconds until, finally, Julian backed out of the lift and it lowered. He watched her descend into the habitat ring, and she nodded, smiling softly, before disappearing from view. Slowly, the doctor turned back towards Ops and into the side office.
"She's so young," Jadzia was saying as the three of them watched Ezri and Julian talk.
"Not anymore, she isn't," Kira replied.
It was true. Technically, Ezri was older than Jadzia, now, when accounting for the memories she'd inherited that Jadzia herself could not recall. But Jadzia just gave Kira a look. "You know what I meant... It must be hard for her."
"She's stronger than she looks," O'Brien told her. And Kira nodded in agreement.
She'd have to be, Jadzia thought.
They watched as Julian had moved in to hold her and Ezri had shied away. Both Kira and Jadzia drew breath in through their teeth. Not a good sign.
"In a strange way..." Jadzia said, "I feel responsible for her. For what happened to her."
"You can't blame yourself for dying."
Jadzia had no way of confirming that statement. She knew the official report. How Dukat had somehow gotten aboard Deep Space Nine while Benjamin was on the front lines, taking everyone by surprise and killing Jadzia in his efforts to wound the Bajoran Prophets, as well as Benjamin and the Federation along with them. But the details, the first hand account that could possibly absolve her of her guilt, were gone. Lost along with whatever other parts of Jadzia hadn't rematerialized through some stale, forgotten transporter pattern.
"I need to talk to Benjamin," she said, suddenly.
Kira and the Chief each shot her a funny look. They looked to each other, then back at Dax.
"I don't see how you could," replied the Chief. "He's gone. I mean, he's not here in this timeline anymore, is he? When he sent Kasidy her vision, she told us he'd said he wasn't in a linear existence at all. Who know when he might be."
"I don't need to know when he is, so long as I know where he is," Jadzia answered, cryptically.
"What?" Julian asked as he stepped back into the room, only catching the tail end of the comment. "What did I miss?"
"The wormhole," Kira said, softly, and Jadzia nodded.
"This soon after a plasma storm?" O'Brien seemed utterly beside himself, "That's suicide!"
"What is?" the doctor asked, "I don't understand."
"I'll tell you what's to understand! Jadzia's about to risk her life right after getting it back!" Miles said in a huff. "We have no idea how the energy surges might have affected the wormhole's stability. It might not even be transversable anymore."
But Kira and Jadzia were looking at each other with a shared understanding and calm. Nyres nodded, she understood what Dax was planning.
"You can't possibly be thinking about going into the wormhole alone, are you?" Bashir asked.
"I'm not going alone," Jadzia said. She looked back towards Ops and a now empty lift, "She's coming with me."
"But… You could both be killed," the doctor said, no surprise taking Miles side.
Jadzia and Nerys shared a look.
"Not if Benjamin has anything to do with it."
-Julian and Miles were right on Jadzia's heels the whole way through the habitat ring down to crew quarters. When she'd asked for the room assignment they'd each just stared at her. Jadzia had been forced to call up the computer program to access Starfleet personnel room assignments. In a matter of moments, she found "Dax, Ezri" on the roster and headed out of Ops.
"Jadzia, please, this really isn't a good idea."
"I don't want to hear it, Julian."
"Are you sure you don't want to get some rest first? In fact, I'd actually like to see you in sickbay to run some tests."
"I've already been examined by the Bajoran field medic. I'm in perfect health."
"Well that's only what we know from the basic scans, I'm more versed on Trill physiology and biochemistry."
"I already told you, I feel fine."
"Yes but just-"
"Enough."
She stopped short and turned on her heels, both the men spun their wheels to stop in time without crashing into her. Julian did slam into Miles and the Chief gave him a hard glare. Julian shrugged his apology, sheepishly.
"Both of you, knock it off." Jadzia said, her voice stern as if she was disciplining children. "I know what I'm doing."
"Jadzia…" Miles said, holding up his hands to her, "Listen, Ezri asked me to make sure we gave her some time before… before having you speak with her. You can't imagine what she's going through."
"I imagine it's pretty similar to what I'm going through."
"Right, sort of. But…" he stopped himself. He couldn't quite find the words. He worried his lip between his teeth for a moment as Jadzia waited on, impatiently.
"Look, you said you felt responsible for her, right?" O'Brien finally said, "Well then trust me. She needs some space."
Jadzia stopped and thought about it, her feet still itching to continue down the corridor to Ezri's room. But she did at least try to listen to what Chief O'Brien was telling her. At least he was giving it to her straight. For as much as she adored them both, Julian did have a knack for getting under anyone's skin from time to time. And now was certainly one of those times. Even the Chief, who it was hard to say a bad word about even on the worst of days, was beginning to grate on her last nerves.
She sighed.
"I just… I feel so frustrated," she finally admitted, gritting her teeth and moving to place her hands against the walls of the corridor, turning her hands to fists and pressing her forehead against the wall panel. "I need answers. I can't live like this."
"We know. We're not asking you to. Just to give it a little more time," Julian said. "To process."
"For Ezri's sake," O'Brien answered.
Jadzia took another couple of deep breaths. She gave a sidelong glance to the two of them and then nodded.
"Fine."
"Good... Now, could you please come down with me to sickbay?" Julian asked, "I promise I won't keep you long." Dax glared at him. "Alright, well, no longer than need be."
Kira had asked Ezri if she wanted to go get a drink at Quark's, who was now back aboard the station along with most of the other merchants. Deep Space Nine was more than just a space station, it was their home, and they didn't want to be away from it any longer than they had to be.
"No. Thank you, but I don't really feel in the mood for a drink."
"We could go to the Springball courts. Or a holosuit. Spend some time at Vic's."
"No, really, I think I need to be alone for awhile."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"Alright… You call my quarters if you change your mind."
"I will, thanks Nerys."
Kira put a hand on Dax's shoulder, she ran it up and down a few times, looking at her friend, before taking a few steps towards the door. "I'll stop by later."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
Ezri had been trying to clear her head. She was rereading some journal articles from her psychology file, but found herself suffering from a deep and unrelenting restlessness. Nothing could get her attention away from the events of the past few days. From the plasma storm, to the transporter malfunction, to the uncomfortable conversation with Julian outside of Ops, her thoughts couldn't move an inch without bumping into a memory from the past 24 hours or so. And then, when she'd allow them to linger, the thoughts drifted back even further. Dukat in the monastery. Talking with Worf about having a baby. A late night game of Tongo with Quark. Drinking bloodwine with Martok.
Was it even right for her to have these memories, anymore? She felt like she was spying on someone else's life. It was one thing when Jadzia had been dead. It was part of Trill tradition that the memories of previous hosts live on in the next. In fact, many of the texts she'd received from the Symbiosis Commission recommended actively attempting to recall these memories. And when she'd spoke with the Trill doctors through subspace message, they had told her that attempting to suppress the recollections might have even been the root of some of her problems. Thoughts demand attention, she'd been told. It was similar to the study of 'mindfulness' that she'd learned about in her psychology classes back on Earth. A human therapy technique taught in the mid-21st Century. Fighting to submerge thoughts was like trying to drown a person. The more you held them below the water, the more violently they'd fight to rise to the surface. It was best to let them come and pass through the conscious mind peacefully, rather than fighting them away.
But things were different now that Jadzia was back. Was there even a precedent for this on Trill? She made a mental note to write to the Commission in the morning. They'd no doubt become sick of seeing her name in their inboxes, but that thought didn't bother her now. She needed answers and she didn't know where else to turn.
She kept looking out of her window towards the stars. When the mouth of the wormhole was opened, some of the sweeping blue trails of it's entrance could be seen from her room. Just the edge in the upper right hand corner. Her eyes kept traveling to that spot now, even though the entrance remained invisible. Her thoughts lingering on Ben and the Bajoran Prophets. What would he think about all of this? What would he tell her to do?
Ben had been Curzon's student, and Jadzia's friend, but he was Ezri's mentor. It seemed their friendship had come full circle in the three lifetimes it had persisted. He was Dax's oldest and truest of friends. And she needed him. Now more than ever.
"She wasn't an Initial…"
Jadzia was biting her lip as she sat up in her bed reading the PADD she'd made Julian download for her before she'd left the medical bay. Her own clearance codes had been wiped from the station's systems — as was policy for all deceased crew, to ensure no shady characters attempted to gain access to sensitive material with old passcodes — so she had needed help to access anything that wasn't available in the public section of the station's datacore. It was turning out to be quite the inconvenience, having been dead. Who knew. But after Julian had kept her for tests until almost 0200 hours, Dax had an easy enough time convincing him to give her access to a few service and medical histories. Namely: her own, and Ezri's.
Was it technically unethical to be looking at someone's medical history without their permission? It sure as hell was. But, as Jadzia was discovering, Dr. Bashir had redacted a fair bit of both the files, a fact that angered Jadzia to no end. She'd give him hell for it in the morning.
But most of her agitation had leaked from her mind as she read just how Ezri had come into the Dax symbionte. How she was on record as an unjoined Trill who had never even applied for the Initiate program, her application to Starfleet Academy followed by her high academic marks and early success in the field of psychology, her pristine record aboard the Destiny. All and all the young woman had seemed on her way to being a true prodigy in her field.
Until, suddenly, the file took a turn.
Not long after Stardate 51954.2, Ezri began having trouble. She was struggling to perform her duties on time, showing up for her work shifts late, canceling her appointments, being disciplined for unauthorized use of various ship's functions. Once, she'd even completely dismantled a power junction without permission and reassembled it in the likeness of an old 23rd Century model. It blew out half the systems on the deck. When asked why she'd done it, Ezri had apparently thought the system was at risk of imploding, only to discover that were it the old 23rd Century design, it would have, but that Starfleet had long since moved on to a more refined process with the conduit's power source.
Jadzia shook her head and put the PADD down beside her in her bed. She stared at the ceiling of her guest quarters. That poor girl, she thought. She threw her life into chaos just to save Dax. She rested her hand over her abdomen. She felt the small worm inside her press back against her hand. All her life, Jadzia had known she wanted to be a host. Maybe she hadn't always come at it with the passion and fervor spurred in her once Curzon had gotten her ejected from the program, but she couldn't remember even once thinking of the Joining as anything but an honor. But to this girl, it was a burden. A life altering one.
She must hate me. Jadzia thought. Hate me for dying. Hate me for stealing her life away from her. And Jadzia couldn't even blame her for it. She probably would've hated herself for it, too. Hated her the way she had hated Curzon when he got her evicted from the program. Hated her maybe the way Arjin had when he thought Jadzia was going to do the same to him.
That idea didn't sit well with Jadzia. Being loathed from beyond the grave. Or back from it, as was the case, now. Obviously the young woman had managed to find her footing eventually. Make something of a home for herself here on the station. And clearly Jadzia's friends had taken to her well enough. Miles and Julian had seemed about ready to tie Jadzia down in order to protect Ezri. And Kira seemed to have gotten close with her as well, the way she spoke of her that afternoon in Ops. Dax always did trust her friends to be good judges of characters.
She wanted to know her, she realized suddenly, as she lay there staring at the wall of a dark and unfamiliar room. Wanted to talk to her. In a way, Ezri had Jadzia at a disadvantage. With the Dax symbionte inside her, Ezri would have already known all there was to know about Jadzia, but all Jadzia knew of Ezri was a bland file on a Starfleet issue PADD, half of which Julian had blacked out in the interest of confidentiality.
It was a bizarre sensation to know that somebody out there — an utter stranger, really — knew her so completely. There were things about herself this woman would have known that Jadzia probably hadn't even told Worf! And he'd been her husband! Not even things she wouldn't have wanted to tell him, but just because it hadn't come up yet. And sure, maybe not every memory had made its way to the surface for Ezri yet. Maybe one day she'd be ordering toast from the replicator and the smell would trigger some long-buried recollection of a Saturday morning Jadzia had spent in childhood, sitting at the kitchen table and talking quietly with her mother. Such mundane, personal memories were the type that rarely worked their way into conversation with others, but were still a part of you, just the same. Maybe even more so than one might realize. How many half-forgotten, sleepy Saturday mornings make up a person? Who they are? More than a battle, a wedding, or a funeral. It's the memories we rarely think about or share that probably build who we are moreso than anything else.
Jadzia was just realizing that for the first time, now. In more than three centuries worth of memories, she'd never once stopped to consider which ones were the most important, the most private, the least shared.
There was a chirp at her door. At first, she wasn't sure she'd heard it. Thought it to be perhaps an hallucination. A product of an overly-busy mind in an underly-rested body. It had to be nearly 0300 hours, maybe later. Surely after the last few days' excitement, anyone aboard the station wouldn't be awake at such an hour. But, yet, here she was, awake, and hearing things.
Then it came again. Jadzia sat up in bed.
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door…
She recalled the human poem, having read it a long time ago, either at the Academy or during her own search for the forgotten talents — composers, playwrights, poets, and so on — of the many worlds she'd seen. She got up from her bed and walked to the threshold to the bedroom area which looked out into the living area of the small space.
"Come," she called out, and the doors opened. A silhouette stood in the doorframe, not stepping in. Jadzia squinted but couldn't recognize the form.
"Computer, lights," she said.
The lights came on, and there, at Jadzia's door, in her civilian clothing, stood Ezri Dax.
AN: Thank you to those who have been tuning in & have read so far. I'm really enjoying writing this & I'm hopeful that anybody reading is enjoying it, too. I feel like DS9 isn't a very active fandom on this site or with fanfiction in general so let me just say that it warms my heart to see that some people are following along & marking my little fic as I continue to explore these ideas. I love getting feedback & I'd love to know what your thoughts are, especially with regard to some of my headcanon that's been working my way into the piece regarding Ezri's backstory & Trill society as a whole. Much love!
