Chapter Twenty-Five: Wounds and Scars

Sisko had recovered enough that Bashir released him from the infirmary to sleep in his quarters with Jake, thinking perhaps the familiar setting would do him good. But he refused to clear him for duty until after his back had fully healed, and was more worried over Sisko's lack of protest than over the wounds that here on the station were fully treatable.

"The skin graft is ready for implant," he told him after checking his condition one morning, "and you're definitely stable enough for surgery. So I'd like you to come back to the infirmary with me now to start the preparations; then I can operate first thing tomorrow."

"Whatever you say, suh," Sisko said, keeping his head down. Bashir longed to insist that the commander look into his eyes, but knew that at this moment it would only be taken as another order.

Sighing, Bashir got to his feet. "I may want to keep you a day or two, so you might want to see if Jake wants to stay with the O'Briens again."

"I'll do that, suh."

"I'll be waiting for you at the infirmary, sir," Bashir promised, slightly emphasizing the final word.

Sisko's eyes flicked up for a moment, appearing almost startled, but then they lowered again in submission and Bashir left without waiting for further reply.

oOo

"Do you want to stay with the O'Briens again while Dr Bashir is fixing my back?" Sisko questioned. Only with his son did he seem fully himself, and even then hints of a southern accent tended to slip through. But then, he had been raised in the south, and its accents weren't completely foreign to him.

"Not if I don't have to," Jake admitted. "My bed's more comfortable than their sofa, and I don't mind sleeping alone here as long as you're safe on the station."

"It's up to you," Sisko agreed. "But if you're staying here on your own, I want your promise that you won't be getting up to mischief with Nog."

"I promise," Jake said quickly.

"And I don't suppose I even have to ask you to stop by the infirmary once a day, as long as Dr Bashir is letting me have visitors."

Jake grinned. "Just try to keep me away!"

"Walk down with me, then," Sisko invited. "And you be sure to let the O'Briens or Dax or Dr Bashir know if you need anything."

"Of course, Dad," Jake said with a tolerant sign.

Sisko smiled. "I know I fuss too much," he said by way of apology. "But when I was trapped in that program, I was worrying about you all the time…"

"I was fine," Jake muttered, looking significantly at his father's back.

"I know that," Sisko admitted. "But as a father, I couldn't help worrying anyway. Come on; let's go before Dr Bashir comes to find out what's become of me."

oOo

The next day, Bashir removed the gel dressing after sedating Sisko. The soothing fluid had done its work well; the exposed muscle now looked as clean as if laid bare by a surgeon's scalpel, and so no longer turned Julian's stomach to look at.

The muscle had begun to heal across the deepest gashes, where the infection had been too well established to use a regenerator before. Now Bashir reopened them precisely with a laser scalpel to avoid the scarring that would cause a permanent stiff back, then used the muscle regenerator to heal it seamlessly.

Then at last he was ready for the great sheet of skin, fresh from its growth medium and delicate as his aides carefully brought it in. At Bashir's direction, they laid it over Sisko's back, and then he spent some time smoothing it until it lay perfectly over the muscle.

Then he trimmed the edges to precisely fit the contours of the great raw area, and ran the dermal regenerator around the edges to seal them.

Picking up another device, he pressed it to Sisko's back at strategic points, anchoring the new skin in place.

At last, hours after he had started, the transplant was complete, and he applied another gel dressing to keep any pressure off the new skin until it had fused completely.

An hour after the surgery, Sisko woke, turning his head slowly and seeming to relax when he caught sight of Bashir and the modern equipment behind him. "Back…home…?" he murmured.

"Yes, sir; we've been home for a while now. I just finished fixing your back; how does it feel?"

"Good…suh."

"Not sir," Bashir scolded him gently. "I'm going to help you roll over; we'll take it slowly, and you let me know if anything hurts."

In several minutes he had Sisko situated against the pillows, looking a little more alert as the effects of the anesthetic continued to wear off.

"No pain or discomfort?" the doctor verified.

"No, suh."

Bashir sighed slightly but didn't correct him again, the subservience of Sisko's replies making him realize he couldn't fully trust their truthfulness.

He ran a quick tricorder scan, nodding at the results. "Looks like you're up for a visit from Jake anytime you want," he offered with a grin. "Shall I call him?"

"Yes…please," Sisko agreed.

oOo

"I see you cleared Sisko for duty," Dax observed a little over a week later.

"Yes," Bashir replied briefly, glancing up from his datapadd for barely an instant.

"You think he's fit, then?" Dax probed.

"Physically, yes. I wouldn't advise any vigorous exercise just yet, but I don't see a problem with his duties here on the station."

"But emotionally?" Dax asked softly.

Bashir sighed. "I just don't know," he admitted, rubbing his forehead. "We need a counselor on this station; I can't deal with psychological scars nearly as easily as the scars on his back."

"You see it, too, then."

"Of course. I may not be a psychologist, but I'm not blind. I probably see it even more than you do, since I'm a 'white' Terran; he's a little more relaxed around 'aliens.'" He sighed again. "It's partly my fault, you know."

Dax frowned. "Don't start blaming yourself for whatever you can't cure, Julian."

Bashir laughed darkly. "I wish it were that simple. But his submission was mostly an act until I had to ask him to behave that way with me, too — even in private; it was the only way to be sure he wouldn't slip at the wrong time. But that's what really broke him. He was barely convinced it was really me anyway; I think part of him thought my domineering was real and not an act at all."

"I still think you're taking too much on yourself, Julian," Dax insisted.

Bashir shrugged. "I don't suppose it changes anything," he dismissed.

"Lacking a counselor, it is your call to remove him from duty for psychological reasons," Dax reminded him softly.

"I know, but I can't help thinking that maybe command is just what he needs."

"I can appreciate that, but what if he can't handle it in an emergency?"

"What do we ever do if a commander is incapacitated during an emergency?" Bashir returned. "But I can put a proviso in his release for duty, making it easier for you to override him if necessary — not that his trying to keep command is going to be the problem."

Dax grimaced. "No," she admitted, "but put the proviso anyway."

"I will," Bashir promised. "And tell the crew to call him sir as much as possible, especially white Terrans; maybe that will help."

Dax merely gazed at him in quiet sadness, and Bashir turned away, not believing his own words.

Next chapter coming next week! (…hopefully)

I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!

Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Deep Space Nine alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie