Ziyal woke up from her own screams. Her father's voice was still ringing in her ears.

I will find him.

In the dream, she was on the Klingon ship. It was empty, no crew, and Ziyal was wandering the empty corridors. She could feel someone walking behind her. She moved only when Ziyal moved, she could feel how she took every breath with her, her body almost touching Ziyal's. She knew it was Tora, of course. If she turned around, she would finally see her face. But Ziyal would not turn around. She would die first.

The corridors stretched out before her endlessly, there was always another corner, another closed door who led to yet another corridor. Then she came to a door that looked like all the others, but she knew it was different. The bridge was on the other side. She stepped through it. Her father was there. He was smiling and he said: "My little darling. My Ziyal." But she didn't feel happy and safe as she had when she was a child and he said those words to her. A cold hand gripped her heart, and she realised that there was no one else on the ship because her father had killed them all. Ziyal looked at her feet and saw they were red. She was barefoot and had walked all the way to the bridge through the blood of murdered men.

She wanted to run away then, but couldn't. Her father wanted to say one more thing, and she had to hear it.

He is not here, he said. But I will find him.

Ziyal threw off her covers and got up. She looked at her feet. They were clean. Of course they were. In the bathroom, she took off her nightgown and put it in the recycling unit, although she had only put on a clean one tonight. She felt dirty. She washed her hands and her face. As she looked in the mirror, for a second she saw Lamar Torel's face there. She closed her eyes. But he didn't go away. She could feel his breath, just as she had felt Tora's in her dream. His mouth on her neck, his hands on her thighs and breasts.

She waited then: for the feeling of a fist in her stomach, the sharp pain between her eyes, the nausea. The symptoms had receded over the last month, but not disappeared. It never happened during the day now, only at night, usually after a nightmare. Sometimes before she went to bed, or right after she got up. But it didn't last so long. Now, she knew it would be over eventually. She didn't have to cut bloody lines into her thighs, she didn't have to replicate an entire cake and eat it, she didn't have go out and to wander around the station for hours. In fact she hadn't done any of that - for how long? Well, a couple of weeks at least. Maybe more.

You know exactly how long it's been. You're being coy now. It's disgusting. I think I'm going to vomit.

Yes, some nights Tora was still there too. Tora, who still thought Ziyal was weak and pathetic, of course. But now she seemed to hate one other person even more than she hated Ziyal or anyone who had ever tried to hurt her, including Lamar Torel.

He will hurt you. He will deceive you. You should have killed him when I told you to. You still can. He will be in his shop, he's there every night. Go, go right now. Do it and you will be free.

Ziyal could feel a film of sweat settling on her skin, although she was still naked and the environmental controls were set low for the night. It made her sick to hear the words Tora was speaking, to feel them inside her. But they were already receding, as if someone had grabbed Tora and started dragging her away from Ziyal: through the bathroom and bedroom, the living area, through the door, corridors, bulkheads, other people's quarters and finally out into space, her voice frozen at last.

A shower. A nice cool shower was what she needed. Ziyal was about to step into it when the door-chime sounded. She threw on a robe and went to the door. She knew who it was.

"Were you asleep?"

"Yes, but I woke up again. I had a nightmare. I was about to take a shower."

He didn't ask what the nightmare was about or why she thought she might have had one ("you shouldn't eat anything before going to bed", the things people say), he didn't ask if she was feeling better. Nightmares were a matter of course, you had them, they went away, they came again. Nothing to analyse there, nothing more to say. Everyone knew a shower after a nightmare was the best thing to do, so Garak just nodded.

"I can wait."

Not "I'm sorry to disturb you", not "I know it's a bit late, but…", not "Do you mind if…" Garak walked over to the bookshelf, took out a book seemingly at random, sat down on the sofa and started to read.

This was what he did. Ziyal was sure that if she just stepped out of her robe right there and walked naked to the shower he wouldn't even move, wouldn't look, wouldn't make a comment - and when she came back, she would find the robe neatly folded on a chair.

She considered it for a second. Drop the robe, sit beside him. Just like that. Surely he would do or say *something* then. Would he scold her? Or maybe just look at her and shake his head, the way he used to when she did something he considered childish? Or would he look at her - differently? Would he touch her?

"No shower then?"

He didn't look up from the book. It was another Terran book, called "The Neverending Story" (who could resist a title like that?). Garak had opened it about half through and was reading intently. Ziyal was sure that the hadn't just picked up the book at random: he knew where it was, he knew what it was about, and he knew exactly which part he wanted to read. It made her want to slap him across the face. Instead, she walked into the bathroom and took a shower. When she came out, Garak closed the book.

"Better?"

What Ziyal wanted to say was "it's always better when you are here". Or maybe "I wish you would stop coming to my room late at night, it makes me nervous". But she wasn't sure that Tora wouldn't bite off her tongue if she actually said something like that, so she just shrugged and sat beside Garak on the sofa. She had her robe on and underneath it, a clean nightgown. One with long sleeves.

"I had a conversation with Odo today."

"Oh?"

"Yes. He had a communication from Bajor. The University near Jalanda City. That's the one you attended, isn't it?"

Ziyal nodded. Speaking would have been - difficult.

"It seems Bajoran authorities were requesting his - assistance in the investigation of a certain incident that took place there some months ago. Involving a professor of geology, it seems. Or should I say a former professor. He's not a professor anymore since it seem he's quite dead."

She waited for Tora's voice to scream in her ears: run! Kill him first and then run! Save yourself! Don't look back!

But Tora was silent. Everything was silent. All Ziyal could hear was her own breath. Garak was still speaking, and she understood what he said, but it was as if his words were coming from her own chest, and each one was taking a bloody piece of her heart with it.

"Constable Odo found himself - busy and asked me to take care of the matter for him. He is kind enough to sometimes let me assist him with small, administrative matters. He knows I like to feel useful."

Ziyal was sure that she would not be able to speak, but the voice that came out of her mouth sounded like her own.

"Please don't talk like that. Please."

Garak took her hand.

"Yes, you are right of course. I am sorry. I just came to tell you that I did take care of the matter, and that you don't have to worry anymore. I…"

"You… took care of it?"

"Yes. It's done. Finished. The incident. The investigation. It's all gone."

"Gone?"

"Yes. There will be no investigation, at least none involving you, and in a fews months, it will be as if Lamar Torel had never existed."

They were silent for a while. Ziyal started to count her breathing, one two, one two, in out, in out. Someone had shown her how to do that, but she didn't remember who.

"Garak?"

"Yes?"

"I think I am going to throw up."

Instead, she started to tremble, so hard that her knees were knocking together. Ziyal looked away, waiting for him to leave now that he had said what he had come to say. But he didn't leave. He came closer, put his arms around her, and waited for the trembling to stop. Only then he asked again: "Better?"

Without even thinking about what she was doing, Ziyal hugged him, hard, burying her face against his shoulder. They stayed like that for a long time. And Garak whispered: "Gone, you hear? Gone and buried and forgotten. He can never come back. He can never hurt you. No one will ever hurt you again. I promise."

And this time, Ziyal was sure she had not imagined it.