"So then, how exactly is this going to work?"

"As you know, we could only make educated guesses. Nothing like this has ever happened before."

"I understand that. Humor me."

The woman on the other end of the subspace call fixed Ezri with a look that clearly said, 'All we've done since you've gotten the symbionte is humor you.' On any normal day, that might have been enough to make Ezri drop the topic. But today was not a normal day.

The Symbiosis Commission member who'd seemingly drawn the short straw that morning, a doctor with deep frown lines and pencil thin lips, gave a sigh before saying, "We were working under the impression the guardian would perform the ceremony for all of Dax's memories, leaving you, essentially, Ezri Tigan, again."

"And what happens to the symbionte inside me?"

"It would become as if you were its first host. I'd imagine some of its temperament influences would remain, but you would no longer recall the lives of Dax's previous hosts."

"But Jadzia would have, what, duplicate memories of all her previous lives?"

"Are you suggesting that memory works as files on a computer?"

"Well, I didn't know how exactly-"

"It says here in your file that you trained to be a psychologist. Tell me, is that something they taught you at Starfleet Academy?"

"It isn't, I just-"

"How exactly do you think someone could have a duplication of an identical memory?"

"You know I'm getting really sick of everyone talking down to me, lately," Dax answered, coldly, surprised by the venom to pass her own lips. The woman on the other end fell silent, eyebrows raised in surprise, and Ezri heard herself continuing, "Now I am so sorry if my little calls have been somewhat inconvenient for you all back on Trill, but I'll remind you that it's not your lives that have been thrown out of balance by this whole fiasco. And I do remember Starfleet Academy teaching us to have empathy for our patients. Or is that something the medical schools on Trill have neglected to include in their programs?"

The woman on the other end merely stiffened up slightly, and Dax watched as she chewed the inside of her lip, briefly. In moments like these, Ezri didn't particularly mind some of those 'temperament influences' the Dax symbionte had over her.

She took a pause to compose herself again before continuing, "Now, I thought that during the rite of closure, only one host's memory gets transferred at a time."

"You wanted only Jadzia's memories to be transferred?"

"Is that possible?"

"I wouldn't recommend it. For one thing, it would make the influence of others hosts' personalities more impactful. And, in your case in particular…"

The doctor trailed off, but Ezri didn't need her to continue. They each knew of the elephant in the room: Joran. And what this woman didn't even know was that Ezri was already a hair closer to that influence thanks to her experience calling upon Joran's personality to solve the murders aboard the station several months prior.

Ezri shook her head. "And the other reason…?"

"Well, usually the Guardian can separate the essence of the memories to ensure only one personality transfers into a temporary host, but there's no telling how the variables in this situation will impact the transfer."

"Variables?"

"You have two of the same symbiontes interacting with one another. There's no telling how that might interfere with parsing out the various lifetimes and memories. The safest course of action is to transfer the entirety of the symbionte's memories back into Jadzia's version of the Dax symbionte."

"Would… That mean Jadzia would have some of my memories?"

"Quite possibly. Though doubtedly many from before you were joined."

Ezri paled slightly.

"Will that be a problem, miss?" The commission member asked, perking a brow.

"No. No, that's… fine." A particular night spent in the Goralis system in the arms of a certain Klingon Starfleet officer after a botched rescue mission came to mind, but she supposed there was nothing she could do about that. Hopefully, Jadzia isn't the jealous type.

"Will that be all?"

"I guess. For now. Thank you."

The woman ended the call without further pleasantries, and Ezri sighed as she stared at the blank screen as the Federation's logo appeared for a moment, and then went dark. She shut off the monitor and stood from her desk, beginning to pace the room.

She could kick herself for being so indecisive. It wasn't too long ago when Ezri knew she would have jumped at the opportunity to remove Dax's memories. But now, she had just begun to settle into her new life and find a comfortable balance. Hell, she'd made that grand proclamation just a few night's prior in Jadzia's guest quarters, hadn't she? 'I am Dax… No less than you are.' It seemed impossibly long ago that she'd uttered those words. Could it really have been just over a week prior? How many times would one life have to endure being turned on its ear?

Ultimately, she made the easiest decision she could: which was to not decide. She'd let the guardian go through with the ceremony. She'd let Julian try to duplicate the synaptic patterns. She'd let whatever happens happen. Something in the back of her mind quietly grumbled and called her a coward, and she wasn't sure exactly whose influence it was. Maybe Curzon's. Maybe Jadzia's. Maybe even Ezri Tigan's.

Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough, she told herself, before turning out the light and surrendering to a night of poor sleep, bad dreams, and the crushing sense that no matter what happened the following day, she'd inevitably end up disappointing somebody.

Jadzia pinched the crest of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, as if the headache plaguing her could be squeezed out the brain by way of the nasal passages. That'd be a new one for Starfleet Medical.

"Do you need a break?" Kira asked from across Ops, where she'd hardly been hiding the fact she'd been watching Dax like a hawk since they'd gotten there.

"A break won't make these readings make any more sense," Jadzia answered, sorely, as she set the PADD down a little too aggressively and it clattered against the science station she'd unceremoniously commandeered from the Bajoran officer who had been manning it that evening.

"Maybe you're pushing yourself too hard."

"No. Please," she waved her hand as if it would stop the thought she watched growing from her friend's mind, "You know how I hate having nothing to do. It's just this damn headache."

"What did Julian have to say about that?"

"He can't find anything wrong. And the Guardian recommended against any unnecessary hyposprays until after the ritual."

When Kira didn't reply, Dax looked up to discover the Colonel chewing on the inside of her own lip, one fist in a tight ball against her workstation, and clearly trying too hard to hide the pent up frustration she was feeling towards the arrogant son of a bitch whom, only at Ezri's insistence, Kira had not personally ejected out the nearest airlock.

"Are you two sure about this?" the Colonel asked, at last.

"Ezri said she wants to go through with it."

"Well, I still don't like it."

Jadzia starred at the chart in front of her, which updated periodically with information their scanners were gathering from the wormhole. It's energy readings were continuing to behave sporadically. And despite half a dozen different algorithms and assessments, no clear patterns were emerging. Worst of all, whatever was affecting the singularity also seemed to be effecting Bajor. Jadzia had listened all day to Kira fielding calls from this monastery and that diplomat and this aid office, apologizing for the continued interference and troubles with power arrays, weather control systems, and the like, promising they were doing all they could at the station to resolve the issues. And while Kira had grown into her poker face some in these past seven years, Dax could see how the Colonel's own fear for her planet and her gods was eating away at her. Her lips were pressed together in thin lines and she paced the oval control center, buzzing about from task to task.

Looking back to her monitor, Jadzia couldn't fight the sense that she recognized these readings somehow. But from where or when she couldn't quite recall. It was only when catching it out of the corner of her eye that the sensation would strike her, but by the time she could attempt to bring the feeling into focus and pinpoint its source, it was already gone. She kept thinking back on the parting words of the wormhole aliens: "Take your storms away from us… When the storms have left you, they will have left us."

-What the hell did that mean? Jadzia wondered. Was something on Bajor causing the wormhole to continue to act up? Or was the meaning more cryptic? And why couldn't non-linear, semi-corporeal beings with indeterminate powers and knowledge be a little more clear when they asked you for a favor?

"I received approval from the Hall of Ministers, by the way," Kira was saying.

"What?" Dax wondered how much of the conversation she'd missed, simply being lost in thought.

"If you want your old job back. Julian said something about Starfleet Medical needing to run some tests or things before you got back your old commission, but in the meantime I've been given authorization to give you a honorary rank in the Bajoran Militia as lieutenant."

Briefly, Dax wasn't positive how best to react. For starters, she was surprised that she hadn't thought more about how Starfleet would need to handle returning from the grave officers. But, more importantly, she was touched by her friend's offer.

Though, she was a Dax, after all, so was it really a surprise when what fell from her lips in reply was a sarcastic quip, rather than statement of gratitude?

"Tired of seeing me walking around Ops in civilian clothes?"

"Well, seems only fair. I had to wear a Starfleet uniform for a few months, myself, during the war."

"Did you? I must've missed that story."

"I'll tell you about it later."

"Turnabout's fair play, I guess."

"So you'll take the job?"

"Do you have anything in blue?"

Kira smirked and picked up something small on the desk beside her and threw it underhand. Jadzia watched the long arc and caught it in one hand, opening her palm to find the small, metal insignia of the Bajoran militia, which operated not unlike her Starfleet comm badge.

As Dax snapped it to her lapel, Kira smiled.

"Welcome to the Bajoran Militia, Lieutenant."

It seemed a pall was cast over the station the following morning. And though each friend had made tentative arrangements to see the others for coffee, breakfast, the like, excuses were made and instead each of the quadruplet spent the morning alone in his or her quarters, quietly fussing over themselves and the decisions they'd made. Until, finally, around 0900, they each received a call from the Guardian that the ceremony room was once again prepared, and that they should report there immediately.

Julian stood with a medical tricorder out, sweeping over both Ezri and then Jadzia as they stood on either side of the Guardian.

"I'd like you all to wear these monitoring devices during the procedure," he said, handing out three small, round devices that blinked a dull orange. Ezri and Jadzia each secured them below their left ear, familiar with the Federation technology, but the Guardian merely cast an icy glare at the instrument, dwarfed in his large palm.

"Let's not have any more of yesterday's unpleasantness, shall we?" said Dr. Bashir, after which the Guardian gave a deep sigh and secured it to the soft flesh below his ear as he'd watched the others do. Once in proper place, they blinking changed from orange to green.

"Are we ready to begin?" he asked.

Jadzia nodded, and Ezri's eyes flicked around the room briefly before she did as well. She wondered how things might look different in just a few brief moments, how the room might change before her very eyes as her perception of it would warp. Would she still feel like the station was home? Would she still care for Julian or Nerys? Would she still remember where the bathrooms were?

She watched the fire dance in front of her as the guardian's cold hand gripped the nape of her neck and he began to chant. In the ancient tongue, he began to list off the names of each of the Dax hosts, and Ezri felt a heat begin to gather by the base of her skull, followed by a sensation like running water trickle backwards up her spine and along her neck - up, up, into the Guardian's hands. She could hear the medical device below her ear beginning to beep more rapidly, and a strange feeling overtook her, leaving a dizzying effect not unlike intoxication. She shut her eyes tight to keep from being overcome by the sense of vertigo.

The Guardian's monitor began to beep louder and as the energy flowed through him, and Kira and Bashir watched the dim blue glow travel from Ezri core, into him, to the empty chamber in his abdomen where his own symbionte would rest, before gliding smoothly up his other arm and towards the tip of Jadzia's spinal column. Her monitor began to beep, climbing slowly in frequency and pitch.

Then, without warning, all three of the devices began to let off high pitched chirps. No discernible pattern could be made out, and the glow changed from a calming blue to a foul reddish. The three each began to buckle, pinching their eyes tightly closed as if under some unreadable stress, body's beginning to convulse as they fought to remain upright.

"What's happening, Doctor?" Kira asked.

"I don't know," said Bashir as he frantically called up screens on his tricorder.

Next, Ezri and Jadzia began clutching at their skulls and letting out cries of pain. The Guardian seemed frozen, mouth open, gasping as if stabbed through the chest by immeasurable agony.

"Something's wrong!"

"I can see that, Major."

"Well, do something!"

"Such as?"

The trio were now overcome in the pool of bright red light, emanating from inside them, and the the Guardian's eyes snapped open, revealing deep, orange pools in place of pupils, that shone like hot embers in a ghostly fire. He began speaking in tongues, and on either side of him a Dax was crying out in shared pain.

In an instant, all three of them were thrown back by an energy force, and nearly knocking into the walls behind them before collapsing onto the ground. Dr. Bashir looked up in time to see Kira holstering her phaser. He stared at his commanding officer, balking openly, at a loss for words.

"You weren't exactly coming up with any better ideas," she snapped before he could say so much as a word, though it was clear from the tenance of her tone that Kira was already racked with guilt, and hoping she would not come to regret the decision. She and the doctor rushed over to help their friends to their feet just as Jadzia was beginning to stir.

"Ah — what happened?" She asked, letting Kira pull her upright as she ran her free hand across her forehead and knit her brow.

"I'm not sure. There was some kind of… energy build up." The doctor was still staring listlessly at his tricorder, though put it aside briefly to help Ezri to her feet.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, in a soft tone, his eyes betraying that the question came not from the medical professional, but from the man underneath who'd just seen his lover thrown across the room.

"I - I think so… The guardian?" Ezri said, and motioned weakly for her friends to help him as he withered in pain on the floor, still unconscious.

"I don't understand," said the doctor, "Everything he did was exactly like when you'd last had your zhian'tara. I can't imagine what went wrong."

"Well, something sure did," said Jadzia, taking to the other side of the Guardian and between the two of them they pulled the man to his feet, who was now mumbling unintelligibly.

"Let's get him to the infirmary. Ezri, Jadzia, I'll need you both to come, too. I've got to run some scans and try to figure out what in god's name just happened to you all."

The four of them started for the exit, only stopping when they realized Kira had failed to come with them.

"Colonel," called the doctor over his shoulder, and when he turned to look he found Kira kneeling, cradling the tricorder Dr. Bashir had abandoned. "Colonel, it's fine, their scanners collected all of the data."

"I've seen these readings before," Kira said, expression numb.

"You have? … Where?"

"After Jake and I…" she slowly looked up, "These were the readings we had after…"

Jadzia finished the sentence, "After the wormhole aliens had possessed you."

Dr. Bashir insisted that all three Trill stay in the infirmary overnight for observation. The guardian had still failed to full awaken from whatever trance the encounter had left him in, and with Jadzia and Ezri still reeling from the effects, themselves, no one put up much of a fight. Jadzia's headache steadily got worse throughout the night, and Ezri began to develop one, herself. Finally, despite the guardian's previous warnings against it, Julian saw no other alternative but to give them each a hypospray to help with the pain and let them get some rest. Nurses came in throughout the night and routinely checked their vitals and made sure the pair could be roused and answer a few basic questions. While Jadzia occasionally got the date wrong, this was chalked up more to her missed time rather than suspicion of head trauma.

The next morning, Dr. Bashir came in to check on them, only to find Jadzia had already gotten up and made herself some coffee at the replicator.

"You really should be on a clear liquids diet until we get to the bottom of this," he warned, but, rather than doing anything about it, just sat down across from her at one of the work stations and began calling up their readings from the night.

"Did the guardian wake up yet?"

"Yes, he regained consciousness briefly late last night. We're still working to get his condition stabilized."

Dax sat the mug down beside her bed. "And was Kira right about the readings?"

Dr. Bashir nodded. "It would appear so. And what's more, the guardian's readings look like— I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"What? Julian, what is it?"

"It's just that, they look yours did… after what happened with Dukat."

Jadzia puzzled over the information briefly, eyes distant, before shaking her head in defeat. "What could that mean? What do the wormhole aliens have to do with any of this?"

Bashir gave only a meek shrug, listless as well.

"Not just any wormhole aliens," said a voice coming from the door. Julian and Jadzia turned their heads to find Ezri standing in the doorframe, "— The pah-wraiths."

"I thought you were still asleep," said Dr. Bashir.

"I was. Now I'm up," she said, walking in and landing somewhat clumsily into a chair nearest her. "Mostly, anyway."

"You think the pah-wraiths have something to do with this?" Jadzia asked.

"It would make sense, in a way, wouldn't it? The burning sensation, the glowing red eyes…"

Things went silent briefly before Julian stood and took up one of the many medical tricorders lying around. "So long as you're both here," he said, waving the wand over them each and squinting at the results.

"Some irregular isoboramine levels, but we should be able to give you each something for that. How are you both feeling? Headaches still? Dizziness?"

"I'm alright," Ezri said, though her tone was hesitant. "Just a bit… fuzzy."

"How's your headache?"

"It's alright."

"I'd rather not give you anything else until we have a better idea of what's causing it. Do you think you can return to work?"

Ezri, eyes shifting momentarily to Jadzia, gave a nod, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine. I've got some cases to review, anyway," before pecking Julian quickly on the cheek, and then heading out of the infirmary door before he could change his mind.

"As for you," he turned to Jadzia, "How about breakfast?"

The offer turned out to be an unluxurious one, as it consisted of their taking to Bashir's office and replicating some hot cereal and Talkarian tea, which Julian ate too out of 'solidarity,' though it did little to quiet Jadzia's protests.

"Don't think I don't notice the preferential treatment you happened to show to the patient you're dating, Julian."

"How's your head?"

As diversion tactics go, that one was fairly obvious. Jadzia frowned into her breakfast as she assessed how to best answer. On one hand, she could lie. On the other, "It's been getting worse."

"Anything else? Are you experiencing any dizziness, like Ezri?"

"Yes. And…"

"What?"

"Well," she placed her hand over her abdomen.

"You're stomach's been hurting?"

"Do you think it could be the symbionte? Is it hurt?"

"I can't imagine how it wouldn't have showed up on your scans if it were."

"I suppose."

"We can run some more tests once you're done eating."

Jadzia never thought she'd see the day where she'd be thankful for the promise of a medical examination.

"And you're really feeling nothing from the zhian'tara ritual?"

"No. Nothing," the a pause, "Well…"

"Yes?"

"It could be nothing, but," Dax got up and retrieved a PADD she'd had by her bed, "Before you came in this morning. I'd been having some odd dreams and I…" she trailed off for a moment, eyes shifting as she searched for words. Finally, she sighed, apparently abandoning the original train of thought. "Julian," she started fresh, "Have you ever heard of a viral outbreak on Vendikar?"

"No," said the doctor, entirely blindsided by the question, "You think whatever happened yesterday has something to do with a virus on Vendikar?"

"Not exactly," Dax said, tentatively drumming her fingers against the tablet before handing it to Julian, who scanned its contents to find a recent article published by Starfleet Medical.

"Wait a minute. I think I have heard about this. Ezri had been reading this paper…" His eyes grew wide as he looked up, "Are you saying you're remembering reading this?"

"I think so."

"Well, Jadzia, that's wonderful news! I mean, well, isn't it? Maybe this is a sign that the ritual was a success on some level."

"I thought the same thing," Jadzia gave a nod and fought back a smile, "I'm trying not to get too excited prematurely."

"Right, right. No, that's - of course - for the best."

"And there are still so many variables."

"Right."

"And no way of knowing if the other hosts' memories will start to surface."

"Of course."

"… Julian."

"Yes?"

"Stop that."

"What?"

"You're grinning."

"Sorry. No, yes, you're absolutely right. Best not get our hopes up."

Jadzia nodded, but a smile broke out on her face, as well. "But in your medical opinion?"

"Not a snowball's chance in hell."

They'd faced worse odds before.

AN: How's everyone feeling? Hopefully a little, well, hopeful! About time we ended a chapter on a happy(ish) note. As you might have guessed, I don't have as much free time as I used to when I first started writing this story. My schedule is a little up in the air, so carving out time to write has been a challenge, but I never want the story to suffer based on my limited time. I'd rather take longer to post chapters that I feel are really true to the heart of this story rather than banging out short, half baked pieces with no artistry to them. So thanks for sticking around and I'll see you soon...ish!