"Hidden Memories" - Chapter 6
"Kira to Worf."
Slinging the phaser rifle over his right shoulder and indicating the five members of the away team to move on to the transporter platform, the Klingon almost immediately tapped his own combadge at the sound of Kira's strained voice. Even over the comlink the tint of concern it was carrying was clearly audible, the low activity of the bridge filtering in behind it and underlining Kira's seriousness.
"Worf here, go ahead, Major."
"I'll beam you down to a small break in the woods. About one hundred meters west of your position you'll find an entrance to the subterranean tunnel system. I'm sorry, I won't be able to beam you directly into that system. A radiation scrambler is marring our directional sensors in a way that's too risky to just have a try. You'd probably wind up stuck in a wall – or floor if we don't get the coordinates right."
"Aye, Sir," the Klingon snorted tersely, not very keen on becoming part of the planet. "So we'll force our way inside then."
"According to our sensor reading, three humans are situated about five hundred meters from your position. Another one about three hundred farther to the west. You'll have to bring them out to the surface, because we won't be able to beam you out from there, either."
"Understood," Worf simply said, waiting for the last crewman to take position on the transporter pad, before he motioned over and worked the controls to send them down to their designated landing coordinates.
"The central authority is still not answering our hails. It somehow seems as if we're not welcome here any longer. Just be prepared to meet some resistance down there."
"How many are there?"
"We can't get accurate readouts though the computer shows no more than about fifteen life-signs in the designated area, including the four human life-signs. Concerning how well-shielded it is against our scanners I take it the whole place must be some sort of secret base, therefore probably not even equipped with too much staff."
"What about the defense system?"
"We eliminated the last canon about four hundred meters away from your landing coordinates. That should also have taken out any farther security shields around. The area should be safe now, don't worry."
Worf bit back a snarl. "I never did, Major. Worf out."
Hurrying over to the transporter landing himself, he didn't have to wait long for the familiar tingle when his vision suddenly blurred, straightening itself as his molecules coalesced into shape again and the transporter effect left him. As Kira had said, they had beamed down in a small break in the wood, the warm and bright sunlight filtering in from above through the huge gab in the forest's thick layer of leaves. Casting a swift look around, he spotted the other members of the small away team waiting in some distance. Without hesitating too long he made his way toward them, beckoning at them to follow his tracks as he forced his way through the savage undergrowth.
They didn't even have to look for the entrance too long.
It was shaped like some sort of a cave entrance, overgrown with brushwood but clearly visible to the bare eye. Casting another swift but intent look around, Worf couldn't see anything abnormal, though he knew very well from experience that a worrier was not to be deluded by the obvious. He once more checked the settings of his weapon and told his team to do likewise.
"Setting to stun. If you encounter any resistance on your way, just stun them. We'll take care of them later. Our most important mission is to find Captain Sisko, Lieutenant Dax and Chief O'Brien. As soon as anybody finds them, let the rest of the team know. Any questions?"
When no reply came and his other five crewman just nodded, Worf couldn't help a subdued smile. Turning toward the black and impenetrable entrance of the cave, he switched on his own beacon and directed its light toward the darkness that lay ahead.
"Then let's go."
With his phaser rifle clutched to his chest and the arm that held his beacon pointed in front of him, the Klingon dashed into the unfamiliar blackness before him, followed by the rest of the away team.
After only a few minutes they reached the first intersection, its two branches angling off to both sides. Flicking open his tricorder, Worf didn't have to hesitate too long before he finally chose the right branch, ever following the tricorder readouts. Beaming might have been too great a risk but still they had their tricorders – and that was everything Worf needed to find his way through the maze-like subterranean tunnel system.
"Sir!"
The sudden call from behind, made him involuntarily spin around – just in time to toss himself backwards against the tunnel's sidewall and escape the bright yellow energy streak that shot only half a meter from his breast through the darkness. The crewman who had given the alarm had obviously not been as lucky for with another stifled cry he went down – shot by a streak of light from behind.
Without hesitation Worf drew his own rifle, aiming backwards as he pressed himself against the wall; as if he wanted to coalesce with it. With only a few shots he had taken the enemy out, calling for his team to move on before he ran himself back towards the fallen crewman. Swiftly flicking over the tricorder readings, he realized that the man wasn't dead but stunned for the time being. Snorting, he caught up with the rest of the team as he decided to take care of the residual man on their way back to the surface.
"Watch your way! And watch your back!" Worf admonished once more before he took the lead again and forced his way farther down. To his surprise the previous attack remained an exception for they weren't hindered a second time. The further they made it into the maze-like tunnel system, the better the illumination became – even if it consisted only of the dull red glow of the emergency lightning, casting long purple shadows over the sinister scenery.
Dust hung everywhere in the air – an air far too stifled and stale that he was eager to not spend more time in here than necessary. Checking his tricorder once more, he realized with annoyance, that something was interfering with the tricorder's sensor sweeps, marring the readouts to high degree. Tapping a short sequence into the small device, he had to suppress the urge to forcefully toss it to the ground: Something was interfering with their sensors, cutting the tricorder's former range down to hardly more than a range of twenty meters. Snorting again, he inhaled deliberately, letting go of his anger. Most likely it was just another kind of defense system, obviously designed for giving any intruders another difficult time of finding their way around.
"The tricorder's sensor range is being marred," he briefly announced. "From now on, we'll split, every group covering one designated area. We'll stay in steady contact. As soon as one of the two teams finds them, they let the others know."
Waiting for the short nod indicating that everybody understood their mission's new turn, Worf directed his beacon again in front of him. Dividing their force meant greater vulnerability. But at the same time they had already learnt that the complex was staffed with only a minimum amount of personnel; increasing the chance of finding their missing crewman in shorter time; thus outweighing the risk of getting involved into any unexpected resistance.
"Then let's not waste any more time."
He didn't even wait for the other team to separate, as he dashed forward into the unknown territory, holding his tricorder in front of him, ready to react to the slightest hint the small device would grant him. After a few more intersections they were finally getting somewhere.
Gray metal doors were lining a small corridor in front of them, the ground littered with small parts of the ceiling that had obviously come rushing down only some time ago, most likely when the Defiant had taken out the security emitters that had been securing the area before. He cautiously stepped over the rubble and beckoned his team to follow.
When the high-pitched sound of the tricorder started, he instinctively knew that they were almost there. Four life-sings appeared on the reading only a few meters away, most likely around one of the next corners.
Bringing the weapon in position, he took a deep breath, before he finally rounded the corner, his phaser rifle pointed protectively in front of him.
"Worf!"
Realizing that the tricorder readings had proven to be true, the Klingon lowered his weapon, his expression serious and resolute, though he shortly nodded in acknowledgment. They had actually found the Captain.
"Lieutenant Worf, it's really you!" Dax exclaimed incredulously.
It took him only a few seconds to take in the situation, before he moved forward, slung the rifle over his right shoulder and began untying them, the other members of the small away team doing likewise. Within a minute, everyone was rubbing his or her hands from the unnatural position they had been held in, though nobody had been seriously injured.
Almost at once, Dax was rushing towards the sunken down figure of Chief O'Brien, grabbing quickly for the tricorder a security woman offered her. She flung it open, intently taking in its readings, but finally let our her breath.
"How is he?" Sisko worriedly asked her as he stepped to the side of the young Trill.
Slowly shaking her head, Dax even managed a smile. "He's only stunned. The disruptor bolt wasn't set to kill but I'd say the chief will be taken out for some hours all the same."
"At least that's good news. Take care of him. As soon as were on board the Defiant he'll get proper medical treatment."
Drawing himself up, Sisko smoothed his uniform, turning towards the newcomers.
"Mr. Worf, I can't tell you how good it is to see you," he said in firm voice, nodding towards the away team. "I can say that your timing couldn't be better."
Throwing a short look toward the door, Worf nodded. "We're having trouble with the central authority of Felan III. Defiant is orbiting the planet at the command of Major Kira. When the government wouldn't cooperate, the major decided to bring you back on our own."
"That sounds like Kira," Dax smiled genuinely, though her expression became almost instantaneously serious again. When she saw Worf eying suspiciously the young blond engineer, she quickly added: "That's John. He's one of us."
"I see," the Klingon grumbled, "Nevertheless we should hurry to get you out of here. Major Kira said she had taken out all the land canons surrounding the area but still I wouldn't want to risk encountering too many enemies with so few supplies. As we won't be able to beam out immediately we have to get back to the surface and the landing coordinates."
"Then we shouldn't waste any more time," Ensign Taira stated as she clutched both hands firmly around the rifle, already about to leave.
"Wait!" John interrupted. "What about Julian? We can't leave him here."
Turning to face the young man, Sisko shortly nodded. "Mr. Worf, can you get another human bio signature?"
"I'm sorry, Sir. Interferences are cutting down our sensor range to only twenty meters. I can't get any reading for beyond that purview."
John seemed to grow excited. "And that means?"
Slowly hesitating, Sisko reached for the tricorder himself. "You said, beaming out is impossible?"
"I'm sorry, Sir. Radiation scramblers are marring the directional sensors. We won't get a lock on anything or anybody within this area of subterranean territory. That is why my task is to find you and bring you back to the landing coordinates."
"So we'll have to track Julian down and bring him to the surface as well," Dax said.
"With all due respect, you should get to Defiant as fast as possible. This conflict is very likely to escalate," Worf interrupted.
"But we can't leave Julian behind!" John protested vehemently. "Not in his present condition anyway!"
"I know. And I won't leave him behind," Sisko replied, trying to find an acceptable solution. He was very well aware of the situation's urgency, but he also knew that Bashir's present condition was nothing he could make light of.
"For the moment, catching Telac and getting control of the situation is top priority. Now that Telac has no chance to realize his plans any more, we have to ensure that Telac will get the punishment he deserves. If we wait too long we'll risk losing him for he will most likely go into hiding and if he does that we'll have a difficult time tracking him down. Now we still can stop him, but we have to act quickly."
"That means, you'll leave him here?" John was not sure he heard right.
"We don't even know where he is. He could be anywhere. Without an exact localization we'd just waste our time. This tunnels system is far too large to try at mere luck to find him, even if the tricorders still have a range of twenty meters. As soon as we get back to Defiant we can destroy the shield generator and get a proper lock on Julian. It's our only chance."
Sisko knew that his decision was all but well-considered. He knew that leaving Bashir to himself was the worst thing he could do, but still he didn't dispose of the means and the supplies to track him down in this unknown territory. Once more he was forced to make a decision that placed the needs of many, over the needs of one man. Turning to John, he tried to show a resoluteness and certainty that he didn't feel.
"We'll find him. And then we'll bring him home." And addressing all members of the away team, he added in an afterthought. "Let's get out of here. The sooner we make it back to the ship the sooner we can put an end to this madness."
"How did you know?" he quickly asked, leaving the turbolift as he started to somewhat relax at the familiarity that lay in front of him. Kira caught up in time to let him hear some sort of contempt snort. He had been glad to see her, but more so to be back in command – in control of the situation-, though the last hours were still casting their murky shadow on him.
Settling himself into his chair, Sisko got a glimpse of Dax already sitting at tactical and with a subtle nod toward the young Trill he turned to Kira.
"Let's call it some intuition," she cut it short, her tone indicating the same urgency he felt himself. They would talk later. For now it was just good to know that she had come in time.
"Dax, open a channel to the central authority of Felan III."
Only seconds later the curved, green outline of the planet below was replaced by the image of a man with short gray hair, his leathery old face drawn into an ugly grimace.
"Captain Sisko. What is this all about. I want you to explain why you opened fire on our world!"
Sisko struggled hard to keep his temper. Taking a deep breath and fighting down the urge to shout at his interlocutor, he tried to keep his voice as calm as he could.
"I could ask you the same, Mr. Hradly. Why didn't you react to any efforts Major Kira took to hail you? And why did your military threaten – and even attack - this ship in the first place?"
Even before the older man could form a reply, Sisko was already speaking up again, his cool and piercing voice reverberating in the silence that had laid itself over the small bridge. "You knew about Telac's plans to destroy the wormhole, didn't you?"
He could hear Kira gasp for air, but ignored her. His attention was exclusively focused on the man's furious image hovering on the viewscreen in front of the bridge's personnel.
Obviously speechless, it took some seconds for his interlocutor to answer.
"I don't know what you are talking about, Captain," he said tersely, glowering at them with an expression of open indignation.
"Then I'll help you remember, Mr. Hradly." Sisko's voice was icy as he rose from his chair and stepped farther towards the screen. "Some time ago we had a short little conversation about a missing crewman - Dr. Bashir, if you recall his name. Well, how should I say; we've found him. Alive. And abducted by Telac, one of your scientists who is planning to destroy the passage to the Alpha Quadrant…" He let the rest of the sentence taper off, though the effect on Mr. Hradly remained the same.
He turned pale, even more speechless than before, his mind obviously calculating how far he could believe what Sisko was telling him – calculating how much Sisko seemed to know. Hradly knew about the whole affair. It was hard not to see his great effort to find a way out as he had to learn that something must have gone utterly wrong. To find a way around having to admit it, to keep the damage to a minimum now that his intentions were likely to be revealed against his will.
"I just want you to know that you won't get away with it. Starfleet will conduct an official inquiry, concluding with the fact that Felan III evidently planned an aggressive act towards the United Federation of Planets. I don't think you or your government can imagine the consequences such a judgment will have."
Hradly was struggling for words, though he tried to keep his facadethe best he could.
"You haven't got any proof, Captain. How can you know for sure that Mr. Telac didn't act on his own? I can assure you that the central authority was never informed about his plans. Destroying the wormhole," Hradly laughed out loud, just if to underline the ridiculousness of such a venture, then became serious again. "You don't seriously think our government would have let itself in for such a wild-goose chase. But of course we'll have an inquiry started on this issue. If there was any plan for an terrorist attack, I promise, we'll do everything in our power to expose the truth."
"That's the least thing you can do. But what about Telac? I want him in custody until a Federation council can deal with the whole affair. I expect you to take every measure necessary to ensure that neither Telac nor one of his companions will avoid the consequences of their actions."
At least now Hradly seemed to regain some former confidence as he nodded grimly. "As you wish, Captain."
"There is a secret subterranean near the city of Velurin…" Sisko started, but let the sentence taper off for he almost knew for sure that Hradly already disposed of every information to comply with his orders.
"I see," the elder man nodded briefly, then turned to another person outside the camera range, obviously giving orders to some personnel not displayed on the viewscreen. "Il promise to see to it that Mr. Telac is held liable for your accusation. We'll get into touch with you as soon as we have any news."
Sisko stemmed both hands to his haunches, his expression absolutely blank. "I'll be waiting for the results then. Defiant will stay in orbit until further details are known."
With a short nod, Mr. Hradly's image suddenly vanished, leaving behind a blank, black screen.
"He's lying."
When Sisko turned around to face the young Trill, she seemed tired and resigned, shaking her head as she still couldn't tear her gaze away from where Hradly's image had been displayed only moments before.
"I know, Old Man," he sighed heavily, feeling all at once drained and tired, "but there is nothing we can do right now. Mr. Hradly, as well as the central authority of Felan III won't be so shortsighted as to not see what a possible accusation by Starfleet will do to them. They'll most likely try to hush it down, make Starfleet believe that Telac acted on his own. In the end, Starfleet will probably clear the central authority from charge, Felan III will keep its status and everything will seem the solitary work of a mad, patriotic scientist."
He saw Dax casting her gaze towards the floor, knowing exactly how she felt in the face of such political intrigue.
"But we still have evidence of what happened," the young Trill said in low voice, lifting her head and watching Sisko with sad eyes.
The captain nodded, a silent consent. "I'll immediately contact Starfleet Command. Perhaps we still have a chance to get the right ones to court. At least we have Hradly's word that he'll take care of Telac. But for everything else, we can only wait."
"What happened?"
It was Kira who now stepped next to the captain, still confused about what she had just witnessed, though that couldn't keep her from feeling her own anger deep within her chest.
"It's a long story, Major, but I'll tell you afterwards. Dax," and he was addressing the young Trill again. "Can you get a proper transporter lock on him?"
He didn't even have to mention Julian's name. Thinking back of the moment of their separation, Sisko couldn't help feel guilty about having left Bashir on the planet. But he hadn't had any time to go and search for the panicking young man when the new situation had required his immediate attention.
However, having forgotten about Julian – even the short time it had been – made him feel even more guilty.
"If we order main power to the whole complex shut down, I'll be most likely able to beam him out…" Dax suggested, already issuing an analogical request to the central authority's government. When her fingers finally came to a rest, though, she swivelled around in her chair.
"But still, I… don't think that's a good idea, Benjamin. He's already traumatized and if we get him off like this in his present condition –" She didn't even need finish the sentence, when Sisko already agreed with her worries.
"Do you think you can handle him?"
Reluctantly the young Trill nodded. "I think it's the best to keep the away team to a minimum. With your permission, I'd like to take John along. He knows Julian and he'll perhaps be able to help."
She didn't even need to mention the other thing either – and Sisko was glad for it. No, he wouldn't go along. Still worrying about the variable he himself had held in Telac's equation, Sisko felt the subtle shiver run down his spine, though he tried not to let it show in front of his crew. He had seen how incalculably Bashir had reacted every time he had been confronted with Sisko. In his present condition, going along and accompanying the away team would just make things worse, even if he was worried about his crewman's health more than everyone else. He would deal with the affair, and Julian for this, later – on the station, when this here was over…
Turning to the young Trill again, he sighed.
"Then good luck. Bring him back home, Old Man."
The deeper they made it into the maze of tunnels and intersections, the more the actual destruction became visible. Whole parts of the ceiling had caved in, but by mere luck nobody had seriously been injured. Electricity was down and even with the emergency lights still on, it was hard to discern the many sharp obstacles that lay scattered across the obscured floors.
It was a somehow oppressive atmosphere.
Slowly intruding the twilight of dust, dimness and the dull glow of emergency lightning, she let her meager light, originating from the beacon strapped around her wrist, float over the ground's uneven surface. Somehow she was feeling anxious and uncomfortable, not at all sure what to expect. Deciding to keep her hope to a minimum, she let out a silent breath she hadn't been aware she had been holding.
"Here it is."
Looking carefully back over her shoulder, she saw John's gloomy figure a few feet behind. He had come to a halt and flung open his tricorder, intently scanning the environment once more. The many yellow and red lights blinked in regular intervals. Cautiously avoiding tripping over one sizeable part of the ceiling, she caught up to him and suspiciously eyed the door in front them.
"There's one life-sign in there," John whispered.
She didn't know why he was speaking in such a low-pitched voice, but somehow he was right. The whole atmosphere deep down in the deserted and damaged tunnels of Telac's territory was depressing. She took a deep breath and directed her beacon in front of them, revealing a closed metal door.
"With the main power down, we'll have a difficult time to get the door open…" the young Trill broke the silence.
It had been some time since she had last seen him…
"Then we'll try manually. Let's go," John sighed, closing and pocketing the tricorder. Trying with all his force to drag the door open, he had to realize that it was easier said than done. Only with Jadzia's help they managed, pulling it open far enough for them to squeeze through the slender gap.
Some kind of storage room, she thought, casting her light over the many stacks and cabinets that were lining the wall to her right. In this place, too, some parts of the ceiling had come down, though the destruction was far less heavy than in the corridors they had walked through earlier.
"Julian?" Her voice was mild and quiet, but still it came with an remarkable echo. Letting her beacon glide across the floor, she stepped farther into the dimly lit room.
No answer.
"Julian, it's us. Jadzia and John."
He had to be somewhere in here. She had seen the bio reading. As far as she could assess there was no other entry to the little storage room, so he couldn't be that far. When her light suddenly hit his leg, though, she unmistakably knew that they had finally found him. Letting her beacon wander up the left of his side, she immediately stepped closer.
"Julian, we've been searching for you."
Her words came out awkwardly, and she worried that perhaps they didn't sound as sincere as they were meant to be, but she clamped down on the indefinite feeling of uneasiness that was filling her with every elapsing second. Cautiously she kneeled down, her beacon pointed just far away to his left side to still give enough light to discern his dark figure in the blackness around without blinding him with its unnatural brightness.
As far as she could see, he was sitting huddled up in the corner, his knees drawn to his chest and his hands clutching something against his breast she couldn't make out what it was. He didn't move, though. If it weren't for the barely noticeable rise of his shoulders, she wouldn't have known that he was alive at all…
She didn't even look up when she heard muffled footfalls behind her. Easing himself next to the young Trill, John was slowly squatting down.
"Julian, can you hear me?" John's words carried a lenient and sympathetic tint as he gently lay a warm and reassuring palm on Bashir's leg, though the young man winced as if being slapped.
"I… didn't do anything…", Julian pleaded in a slurred voice, not even lifting his gaze or meeting their eyes. He was crying. Jadzia could see the tears running down his ashen cheeks as he futilely tried to keep them back.
"Julian, look at me, it's me, John." Not nearing or making any other attempt of touching Julian, the young engineer's voice grew persistent.
"No… let me alone… let me alone…" Bashir sobbed feebly, breaking the all surrounding, stifling silence as he shook his head in short staccato movements.
"Julian, we're here to help you. Please, look at me," John tried again, knowing that he had to make Julian realize where he was, who they were. After all, Julian now had his memory back – and John was all but sure if the young man could handle it. He apparently was still in shock due to what had happened only an hour ago. And John couldn't even blame Julian for his mental collapse. If he had been in his place, if it had been he who had suffered the young doctor's experiences and had now been forced to relive the whole nightmare of his ordeal – well, he couldn't say for sure that he would still be there to have a conversation with anyway…
"I… killed Sisko… and Jadzia… and the girl…… and Miles..." Julian's head weakly dropped down to his chest. "I… killed them," he stammered, unevenly gasping for air.
Not sure what he was actually talking about, Jadzia decided to chalk it up to the enormous mental stress he was suffering. He had been tortured after all. She couldn't estimate his psychological condition yet, but it could as well be that he was hallucinating, or imagining things – confusing reality. She didn't know what Julian meant with having killed them, but they had enough time to learn later – as soon as they were back on board of the Defiant and she was seeing to it that he got proper medical care.
"But I'm here, Julian. You didn't kill me. I'm here, you see?" she offered sympathetically, trying to reassure him.
He didn't listen.
"Please… don't hurt me…" he pleaded, his trembling and distressed voice almost tearing up her heart. Never before had she seen him so haggard, so vulnerable – so hurt and pained. He desperately clutched that thing in his hand – and suddenly she realized what it was, and the realization send a cold shiver down her spine. She had experienced too much in her seven lifetimes not to know that her next action was decisive.
All at once serious and trying to lend her voice enough determination, she directly faced Bashir. "Julian, give me the phaser. It's ok now, you're safe."
Her hand didn't even make it any near his knees, when Julian abruptly cocked up to his head, crouching even more into the dark corner, pure horror sparkling from his dilated eyes. "NO!"
Not wanting – and not willing – to lose him any farther, she once more tried to sooth him: "He's gone. Telac is gone. You're safe, Julian. He'll never touch you again, I promise. We're here to bring you home."
Bashir looked at her, his eyes clouded with tears – the look on his pallid face so wistful but still of terrifying awareness. "I can't go back…" he finally managed under his breath.
He really wanted to go back. Back to his old life. Back to warmth and security. Back to his friends. How he had longed for this day to come. How he had wanted to go home, to leave everything behind, to leave fear, darkness and despair… But he just couldn't. Not after what he had done. All those hopes and dreams had once belonged to Julian Bashir – the righteous man, the passionate doctor, who had died along with everyone else a long time since. They weren't his hopes any more. Nor were they his dreams. He would never be able to go back…
The realization was so terrifying but still so obvious. How much had he struggled against the merciless current of life, against what fate had preserved for him. And for a short second, for a tiny, puny moment he had thought he had escaped destiny. But the truth was, he never had. And the realization hit harder now than it had ever before. No, he wouldn't go home, for it wasn't his home any longer. Like Telac had said so many times, he didn't even deserve it. With no way back, there was just one alternative left.
"I murdered Sisko, Dax, O'Brien and the girl. It was real! I'd done anything he'd asked me to," Julian tumbled out without thinking. He didn't want to think back of the moment. He had tried to forget...
Not accepting his confession, Dax tried once again to reach out for the phaser. "That's not true, Julian. I'm still alive. And so are Captain Sisko and Chief O'Brien. We're still alive. You didn't kill anybody. If you just let me show you. Please let me show you the truth, Julian."
And even while she was about to keep him from hurting himself, she somehow started to understand. Why he was talking about having killed them, why he would rather commit suicide than let himself brought back home. She knew it wasn't true, that no one had ever been harmed lethally, and she knew that even O'Brien was still alive, no matter what it may have looked like in the other room.
She knew. But obviously Julian didn't.
He really seemed to believe in what he was saying, suffering from the consciousness that he committed murder. She couldn't even imagine what Telac must have played with him, how he had managed to manipulate Julian's sense of reality and turn his own will against himself. She had to tell him the truth, make him realize that all he had experienced was not reality but a perverse nightmare created by Telac. But still – she wouldn't have any opportunity to do so if she couldn't prevent Julian from making yet another nightmare into reality. Placing one hand softly on his shoulder she gently but deliberately grabbed for the weapon.
"Don't touch me!"
Startled by his unexpected and vehement reaction, she instinctively pulled back a few inches, though the young man was already rolling over to one side, about to scramble to his feet. It all happened so fast it took her a second to actually catch up with the new situation.
Bashir was hastily teetering to his feet, though he didn't make it up far, when he was already seized by John from behind before he could draw himself up completely. Gripping both his arms and trying to bring them into a firm hold behind Julian's back, the young engineer struggled hard to keep Bashir from any further action.
"Jadzia!"
And in that very instant, Dax knew what to do. With John fighting Julian's resistance back, Jadzia was finally able to pull away the barrel of the loaded phaser – in time. The bright yellow streak shot through the dimness with an ugly hiss, burning a black hole in the opposite wall. Startled but fully aware, she somehow managed to tear the weapon from his desperate grip before he got any chance to fire again. She hadn't figured he'd actually chosen a lethal setting…
"Julian!"
He still tried to fight off John and didn't react to her calls. Julian's free leg violently hit the young engineer's shin, making him curse and stumble – and with Julian flailing out ever so wildly, he lost the rest of his footing, tumbled backwards and involuntarily dragged Bashir with him to the ground. The sudden impact knocked the air out of John's lungs, making him reflexively let go of Julian's arm as he instinctively gasped for air. Bashir didn't even hesitate a single moment and frantically rolled over to the side, crawling on all fours even farther away until he was too far for John to reach.
Not able to tear his gaze from the blond engineer, Julian once more tried to staggered to his feet – and was all at once whirled around by his shoulder and simultaneously thrust backwards again. When Bashir hit the ground, Jadzia didn't even give him enough time to recover from her sudden and unexpected move as she tightly gripped his wrists, pressed them over his head to the floor and thus prevented him from crawling up again. Too busy with John he hadn't seen her. Jadzia had caught the ball on the bounce.
"Let me go!" he screamed frantically.
"Julian! It's ok! I won't hurt you, it's over! Please, we just want to help you."
Writhing and squirming, Bashir dredged up every shred of strength he could still put forth in a last desperate attempt to free himself. No matter how weakened his condition was, Jadzia was barely able to keep him in check, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hold him to the ground much longer. He obviously was beyond reason.
"Let me go! Let me go!"
Wriggling and tearing against her firm grip and her body's weigh that was pushing him onto the floor, he even managed to get one arm free – oddly enough, it was his wounded one, though Bashir didn't seem to care in that very moment, trying to lash out at her with all his strength. His fingers didn't even brush her skin, when she already had caught his arm in mid-strike.
"Julian! It's me, Jadzia!"
Throwing his head from one side to the other, the young man just didn't react to her calls.
She scolded herself for having been so shortsighted as not to bring a med kit along. She didn't want to hurt him, though she didn't know how to make him calm down in his present condition either. If she had just brought along some sort of sedative…
When John finally came for support, he stemmed both hands on Julian's trembling shoulders, pushing him back as he didn't know what else to do.
"Julian! Julian! You're safe, we won't hurt you!" the young engineer tried to get through to Bashir, though in vain.
"Let me go!" Julian screamed with cracking voice, his face contorted with unnatural effort, as he brought forth his last strength to fight against their overwhelming superiority. His body was still convulsing spasmodically, giving them a difficult time to keep him in his present position.
"You're safe, Julian!"
"No!"
"Julian!"
"Let me go!" he yelled, gasping involuntarily for air as a barely suppressed sob escaped his sore throat. "Let… let me… let me…"
The last words came tumbling out barely audible, though, as his voice grew all at once feeble and weak, his body starting to rapidly lose the heated fire that had only moments ago been clamoring in his chest. Apparently realizing – even through his clouded mind - that he stood no chance of overcoming them or free himself, Julian's last desperate rush to fight them off was all at once drowned by indescribable despair. His face drawn into a grimace of pain and fear, his resistance grew less and less vehement until it finally vanished almost completely. He still tried to drag his wrists from under Jadzia's grip though the futile attempts were nothing more than helpless suffering in the face of defeat. Shutting his eyes against his utter defenselessness, he let his head drop to the side.
It was in that instant, that she realized that he was crying. Not facing anyone of them and with his eyes shut against the reality he had so desperately tried to flee from, he was sobbing with despair and torment, making her involuntarily release her firm grip around his wrists. Even John pulled back a few inches, perplexed at the sudden change in the young man's demeanor. No longer held back, Julian almost immediately curled up, clutching both arms tightly around his abdomen, audibly gasping for air as his whole body shook with emotions he had too long tried to suppress. He no longer cared that they were there; letting go of all the despair; all the fear and horror he had tried to hold in for too long. Collapsing under the pressure of a world that had been twisted and turned against him.
"Julian…"
Lying against the dusty ground, Bashir couldn't hear her, too drowned in his private misery to take anything in around him any longer. Empathetically she squeezed his trembling shoulders, though she couldn't help feeling indescribably helpless. She didn't know what to do to ease his suffering, to help him through the overwhelming aftermath that was following his ordeal – that was still clutching at him, dragging him back into the shadowy nightmares of the past three months. The only thing she could do right now was be there for him. But perhaps it was even more vital to him right now than any other physiological aid.
"John, help me…"
Together they brought him up far enough for Jadzia to gently lean his weak and battered body against hers. He didn't even realize. Whispering soothing and consoling words, the Trill held him in a tight hug as she gently cradled the sobbing young man. She couldn't think of anything else. He seemed so fragile and weak, so helpless and lost in his misery that she couldn't help feel guilty for not having been there for him, before, when he had needed her the most. When he had needed all of them.
Stroking affectionately over his dark hair, she felt her own tears sting behind her eyes.
In this moment she couldn't help but loathe Telac, loathe him with all her heart for what he had done to the young man now lying barely conscious in her arms. She didn't know how Telac had him manipulated, what Julian had went through, though she knew one thing for sure: Only a few more steps, only a little bit more pushing and he would have been beyond redemption. She knew it for sure – and it didn't but further the subtle feeling of guilt.
Looking at his weeping shape now, she realized how close they had been to losing him forever…
She wasn't sure how long they were sitting there in the dimness, John silent but with anxious and worried eyes, Julian crying on her shoulder until his sobbing gradually subsided. His breathing was too uneven, his pulse too weak to risk leaving him without proper medical aid. He was at the end of his tether.
Still holding his unconscious body, Jadzia turned far enough to see John sit in the dimness next to her.
"John, we have to bring him back to the surface."
"Any news?"
Sitting at one of the vacant tables in the Defiant's mess hall, Kira cocked her head, involuntarily interrupting her little conversation with Chief O'Brien; when she heard the familiar voice and saw Dax enter the half-crowded place. With the young Trill coming nearer and offering a weak and all but reassuring smile, though, Kira knew that things boded ill. She waited until Dax had settled down. The young Trill let out a short sigh before she gave them another smile.
A genuine one, though. One that was meant not to belittle things but one that was meant for friends. An affectionate smile.
"How is he?" the major finally asked, both hands absently draped around her half-drained coffee mug.
Shaking her head, Dax expression became serious again – only furthering their friends' worries. "He's well – according to the circumstances, that is. The injuries weren't too serious - a few bruises from the collapsing ceiling apart from his broken arm. I'm no doctor but I think I handled it quite well. His body has collapsed with the unnatural great exhaustion he'd been suffering but basically it's nothing a couple of days in bed won't cure. He's been sleeping ever since we brought him off the planet, but I think physically he should soon be back to normal…"
"And psychologically?" O'Brien managed, not caring to hide his concern.
"I can't say that for sure. He's been unconscious ever since. I thought it best to let him sleep until we get back to the station where there's proper medical staff to keep an eye on him."
O'Brien nodded grimly, absorbed in his own thoughts.
"He'll be likely to need psychological treatment as well," Kira added thoughtfully, "to cope with what he's experienced. I can't say that I can really figure what it was like for him but… I only hope we'll get him back."
Jadzia offered a sympathetic but sad smile. She hadn't told them yet what John and she had witnessed back on the planet. She hadn't even had any time to do so. With no further medical personnel on board she had been one of the few persons with medical experience; and had thus felt responsible for caring for Bashir. And even if there had been any medical staff, she would have felt so all the same.
"How's the situation going?" Dax changed topics. She hadn't been on the bridge for a while. The last thing she knew was that the central authority – no, Mr. Hradly – had pointed out that he would do some further investigations on the whole issue. It still hurt to think of what they had experienced those last weeks as a mere political "issue". Even if it was just another case for Starfleet, or some plan that went wrong for a government trying to gain greater influence beyond their territory of space, it had been their lives that had been irrevocably influenced in its course. It was them – as individuals – who were affected, whose memory the past few weeks that the new and all but pleasant experiences would become. For others their case might only be one among thousands of others, but for themselves, it was yet another unchangeable step they had taken on the path of their lives…
"They're investigating," Kira snorted, obviously all but content with the governments course of action to track down a potential criminal. One that had almost broken off a new era for both quadrants. "Starfleet's sending their own team of investigators. Captain Sisko has already talked to Starfleet Command. At least we can be sure the game's played fair."
"So how did you know?" Dax leaned forward. "I mean, your timing couldn't be better."
Kira's expression grew all at once absent, as if recalling things she wouldn't be able to share with her friends. Or perhaps she simply wasn't able to voice them aloud. "Faith, I suppose."
At the quizzical looks on her friends' faces she quickly shook her head. "I got worried. I can't say why but somehow it just didn't feel right. I mean, Captain Sisko's sudden departure, the wormhole's strange behavior – and then there was that nagging feeling that wouldn't vanish no matter how hard I tried to feel at ease. It was Odo's advice that made me contact with Lieutenant Perris earlier than necessary. When Perris wouldn't answer, I knew that something definitely was wrong."
O'Brien threw a questioning look at her. "Besides, what happened to Lieutenant Perris?"
"He's fine. When Defiant arrived at Felan III we didn't find but the deserted runabout. No sign of Lieutenant Perris or you, though we could at least track you down to the city of Velurin for your transport designation was still saved in the runabout's transport logs. Lieutenant Perris was a harder one to find, though. Shortly after your abduction, the central authority of Felan III had his runabout confiscated for no valid reason, though it seems as if they had as arrested Perris in the course of doing so. When we arrived here with Defiant, they weren't prepared for the encounter, apparently. Knowing that Perris was Starfleet and that they wouldn't get rid of us without giving in, at least concerning this point, they gave us Perris back; and they allowed us to salvage the runabout, offering the explanation that Perris had intruded restricted territory and had therefore been arrested. They demanded us to leave Felan III and its territory immediately and in return we should be granted safe passage home."
"You mean, so that you couldn't snoop around any further?" O'Brien cut in.
Kira nodded absently. "Of course we knew that something must have happened to you, we couldn't just turn our backs on the place. That was when I started to ask a little more questions. Well, how should I say, the central authority wasn't that glad about me intruding in private little secrets so they gave me an ultimatum saying Defiant had to leave Felani space within the hour or otherwise Felan III would regard Defiant an enemy threat."
Chuckling humorlessly, Kira sighed. "It wasn't that hard to find out about your whereabouts or that you were held there against your will. And once we did and the central authority wouldn't help get you out of there, not to mention the military canons of Velurin opening fire on us – well, we tried to do so all the same."
Smiling slightly, Jadzia said: "I can't say I'm not glad you did."
Noticing the absent expression on the chief's face, though, Jadzia suddenly turned. O'Brien had been surprisingly silent for a long time and even now he didn't seem to have overheard the last few pieces of their conversation, still staring vaguely into the empty small coffee mug he had already drained some minutes ago.
"Just because he's still unconscious doesn't mean you can't go see him," she gave him a thoughtful look, then as if in an afterthought she added a reassuring smile. "I think he'll be glad to see you're still alive when he wakes up."
Awkwardly O'Brien nodded. "Aye, Sir." Then he stood up, and with a last concerned look towards the major and Lieutenant Dax he turned and left the mess hall, obviously more than keen on complying Jadzia's orders.
"Do you think it's such a good idea? After all Captain Sisko told me about what happened…" Kira didn't sound too convinced. She had heard of the few things Sisko had been able to tell her back on the bridge – and even if she hadn't been there with them and hadn't seen the things they did, she knew that perhaps Julian's hardest times were still lying in front of him.
"We'll have to restart somewhere. And they are friends," Dax offered.
"Yes, but the question is, are you still friends after your friend thought he had killed you?"
When he finally stepped in front of the door leading to the infirmary – and O'Brien couldn't help but recall Julian's indignation about how one could construct a ship with such inadequate medical facilities – he wasn't at all sure if he was ready to face the truth. When he had talked to Dax and Kira, well, he couldn't think of anything he would have rather done than come here immediately, but now… He just wasn't sure if it was really such a good idea after all.
He had seen Julian in that room, and he had barely been able to recognize the once-buoyant, zealous young man, he had come to know Julian as. Somehow it had even scared him. Julian had been so unpredictable then, so wild and haggard, so… different. He didn't even know if Julian wanted to speak to him, anyway.
Miles, you're friends. Julian needs you. You can't let him down now…
O'Brien could hear his wife's voice, mild and understanding like it always was, but also firm and resolute – and he was glad for it. Before he could even think about it any further, he made himself enter. Perhaps things might have changed between them, but he wouldn't find out if he didn't try.
There was just another man inside. A security guard stood on the far side of the room, indicating a short and almost subtle nod, when he saw O'Brien enter.
"Can I… I mean… May I speak to him alone?" the chief awkwardly said.
"Lieutenant Dax told me to survey his vitals and contact her if there's any medical emergency or he's waking up…" the young guard hesitantly answered.
"I'll watch it," O'Brien promised.
With another short nod the security guard left. It was not until O'Brien heard the familiar quiet hiss of the closing door that he let out a sigh of relief. And for the first time he actually saw him.
Julian was lying motionlessly on one of the biobeds.
He hadn't reacted to O'Brien's conversation with the security guard, nor had he shown any sign of wakefulness when the security guard had left. He was just lying there, with both arms on top of the bluish coverlet, almost as if asleep. His features were relaxed and blank, his face unnaturally pallid, though his breath came even and deep. They had replaced his uniform by a dark blue shirt.
As if he was already dead…
O'Brien tried to push the thought away, slowly nearing the biobed and trying to keep as quiet as possible. He didn't want to disturb Julian. Swiftly looking for a chair of sorts, he dragged the one of the security guard's seats near, putting it next to the bed and settling down.
He didn't know what to do next, though.
Talking to him would be a good start, Miles.
Mentally he thanked Keiko for her mindfulness. He should tell her that. As soon as they made it back to the station.
"Hello, Julian. This is me, Miles."
The words came out awkwardly, sounding a bit odd in the silence that filled the infirmary. But you don't often get into such situations. Of course it sounds odd, but that's the problem if you're talking to someone that you don't even know if he can hear you.
"Well, I just wanted to see you… those last three months were… pretty strange without you."
Taking a long breath, he continued. "I mean, not that much had happened on the station – expect the ordinary everyday chaos – and," chuckling humorously he shook his head, "Quark had his bar evacuated with a epidemic warning by some youths who were just wanting to play a trick on somebody."
Then he became serious. "It's good to have you back, Julian. I missed you and I'm sure I'm speaking for all of your comrades. DS9 was just not the same without you. When word came from Starfleet that your shuttle was missing we didn't believe it at first. And even when Starfleet had taken action to find out what happened, Captain Sisko didn't want to believe you were really dead – because that was what they supposed. They weren't able to find any emissions, any warp signatures corresponding with your shuttlecraft so that Starfleet concluded with the deduction that your shuttle had been destroyed."
Pausing, O'Brien realized, that it wasn't even as hard as he had thought. He had things he wanted to tell Julian, even if those weren't of pleasant nature.
"But the truth is, we'd given up on you. The longer you were missing, the more everyone thought that Starfleet was right, that you were really dead," he said in sad tones, slightly shaking his head.
"I'm sorry, Julian. For haven given up on you. It was so easy for us back on the station. Just one silly report from Starfleet and we gave up hope. We should have held on. I should have held on. I can hardly figure what it was like for you to endure what Telac did to you. And during all that time you hoped for us to come for you. And we did give up hope. I'm sorry Julian. If we had found out earlier you would have been spared the torment…"
"Stop it…"
O'Brien's head cocked up all at once. He was not sure he had heard right. It had sounded like a very weak voice. Julian's voice.
Bending over his slack body, he frowned. "Julian, you're awake?"
The young man still didn't give any sign that he had actually heard, though O'Brien thought that he could see a tear glinting as it ran down his pallid cheek.
"I can't bear that you keep apologizing…"
His voice was very quiet, barely understandable, but yet it was there. O'Brien directed now his full attention on Julian.
"You're really awake! I thought you'd never wake up again!"
The young man still kept his eyes closed, his body unmoving.
"Wouldn't have mattered," was everything Julian brought forth.
"How can you say that? Everyone's happy to have you back. We've been worrying about you ever since we found out you're still alive."
No answer.
"Major Kira and Dax are still worried. And Captain Sisko…"
Julian's eyes flew open all at once, a bewildered stare in his still tired eyes. "He's here?"
Startled about the sudden reaction, O'Brien recalled what had happened in Telac's lab – how Telac had ordered Julian to kill his commanding officer. He wasn't sure if that was all behind the young man's reaction now – after all, he didn't know what exactly happened to him those last three months in captivity.
"He's… on the bridge, talking to some bureaucrats of Felan III," O'Brien hurriedly tried to explain.
He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination but Julian seemed somehow to relax at his words. Still he didn't even move his head, directing his stare absently toward the ceiling – and with a short sigh he closed his eyes again.
"I'd be glad if you could leave me alone, Chief…" Julian tiredly whispered.
The silence following was engulfing and stifling – until O'Brien spoke up again.
"What's it all about with you and Captain Sisko, Julian?"
The question caught the young man off guard, O'Brien could see it. He suddenly reopened his eyes, turning his head to face the chief, his face distorted with anguish the Irishman didn't know where it so suddenly came from.
"I don't want to talk about it," he managed in disdained voice – though O'Brien was not sure if the young man's contempt was really directed at him. In fact, Julian wasn't even looking at the him, avoiding any eye contact as he was staring toward the door behind the chief. Turning his gaze again upwards, he suddenly ran both hands over his pallid face. Just for a split second, O'Brien thought he had seen a few short tears in his eyes, but Julian had already wiped them off.
Remembering what had happened only a few hours ago it was amazing that Julian was even able to have any reasonable conversation at all. He had been so haggard back then, so utterly on Telac's will… But somehow Julian's calmness was even more distracting. It didn't seem appropriate. Not after what he had gone through. O'Brien knew very well that he was no counselor – but still, he had to try and make Julian talk. There were still so many things he didn't know, so many gaps of the puzzle left unfilled.
He had seen Julian's behavior when Telac had ordered him to kill Sisko. He had also witnessed what happened when Sisko had tried and make him remember who he was in the cell. But yet he didn't know what was behind it. He didn't know what exactly had made Bashir react like he had.
Not willing to let Julian leave the whole thing with it, he took again a deep breath.
"It was Telac who made you do it, wasn't it?"
It was just an mere try. He didn't even know, if Telac had actually made Julian do something – but still it was fairly obvious. Taking his behavior towards them, and especially Captain Sisko, into account and adding the fact that Telac had broken Julian – well, O'Brien just wished he were not right.
For another moment neither of them spoke.
"That doesn't change anything," Julian whispered under his breath, simultaneously proving O'Brien's surmise to be true.
"What… I mean, what happened?" O'Brien incredulously asked. Whatever happened, it hadn't been Julian's fault. Having encountered that maniac of a man, he knew for sure that Bashir would have never helped him. He knew his friend. He would never have agreed to Telac's warped scheme.
"It's not important, is it?"
"It surely is."
Hesitating, Julian apparently struggled with his inner feelings, trying to keep his reticence, to bury everything within himself – though in vain.
"I killed Sisko," he finally brought forth, his voice strained with the unnatural effort of keeping his voice from shaking.
"But Julian, the captain's alive. He's on the bridge, struggling to take Telac and the central authority to court," O'Brien held in confusion.
For the Irishman, the young man's words didn't make any sense, though his resoluteness and calmness was startling.
"Stop telling me that it wasn't real. Jadzia already tried to. Even John. It was real. For me it was damn real. I killed him. I killed my commanding officer because some warped maniac told me to do so. You weren't there, you can't even imagine what it was like."
Julian had once again closed his eyes, trying to keep his voice low. He didn't want to shout. Shouting would just make it worse. He couldn't run away now. He couldn't run away from reality. But they just didn't understand. No one could understand.
"I didn't have any choice," he mumbled. "He told me to kill Sisko or otherwise he would keep killing other innocent people until I'd finally do what he said. He killed Jadzia and the girl. He would have committed so much more murder if I hadn't obeyed. There was no choice left. He'd not have let me prevent anybody from being harmed. I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted those people to be safe."
Trying to catch up on what the young man was confessing to him, O'Brien kept wondering, what exactly Bashir was talking about, for neither Sisko, nor Dax nor he himself had been hurt in the course of their captivity. It was Julian's battered demeanor, though, that told him that he really believed in what he was saying, that no matter what had happened when he had first come to Felan III, Telac had somehow managed to turn Julian's own life against himself. He must have played with his sense of reality. Perhaps those other persons had even been of holographic origin. He wasn't sure of it though he knew that no matter the real circumstances, Julian had once believed it to be true.
"So you did, what he told you?" O'Brien tried mildly.
Julian decidedly shook his head. "I just wanted it to stop. I can barely believe that I actually did what he said. It's so disgusting and loathsome. I'd have never thought I could do anything like that… I'm nauseated at myself, Miles. I killed an innocent man."
"No, Julian, you didn't," O'Brien objected. It was almost as if Julian was still in Telac's grip, poisoned with his words and his menace. It was ridiculous. Julian blaming himself for having made the only choice he had been left with.
"Listen to me, you had no other choice. Telac has done that to you. He is to be blamed, not you Julian. If anybody would have been responsible for Sisko's death it would have been Telac. You didn't voluntarily agree to it. You were forced to. As you told me, there was just one possible choice: Save as many lives as you could. And you did so."
Not reacting to the chief's words, Julian kept staring at the ceiling.
"I had been a doctor, Miles. I had sworn an oath, an oath to protect life," his voice nearly broke. "I betrayed everything I once believed in."
"But what about the wormhole. You opposed to help Telac, no matter how much he tried to force you to cooperate. You saved us, Julian. If Telac would have completed his bomb in time…" he let that trail off, though Julian must be aware that he saved a whole race from being extinguished – barring that he saved the passage between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrant.
"Sooner or later he would have known. If the Defiant hadn't come in time…" Julian turned to the other side, his shoulders hunched and his eyes closed against the engulfing and menacing truth of reality.
"I'd be glad if you'd leave me alone, Chief."
Already about to protest, O'Brien realized that no matter what he said, Julian wouldn't listen to him. Too deep were his inner wounds, too deeply was he affected by the last months. And gradually he realized that one part of Julian had been destroyed in their course.
He'd lost his self-respect, had given up on himself.
No matter how much he tried to make Julian realize that no one would ever blame him for having cracked under Telac's pressure, the young man wouldn't listen for he just couldn't forgive himself.
Nodding reluctantly, O'Brien slowly drew himself up and before leaving he stopped once more and turned around.
"I… won't tell them you're awake. We won't reach the station but in about 8 hours…"
He knew he wouldn't get any reaction so he let out a short sigh and finally left the room.
With closed eyes, he tried to slide back into the all-surrounding familiar darkness, though sleep wouldn't come.
It were his thoughts that kept dragging him back to the surface of sleep, that made it impossible for him to leave reality behind.
He didn't know how much time had passed since O'Brien's visit. After the chief had gone, a tall and burly young security guard had appeared and settled himself in the chair to the far side of the room. However, he didn't know that he was awake and Julian didn't intend to let him know. Even if he felt like his chest was on fire, like his whole body would explode from within, he kept himself still and unmoving.
He'd been in much worse situations after all.
He would wait. There wasn't much left to lose anyway. If it weren't for the guard he would have walked over and grabbed the corrolatium immediately but with security watching him it just wasn't worth the trouble.
At least he wasn't hurt, not crouching on the ground, half-conscious with torture and hunger. The sheets were clean, the biobed soft and pleasant – god, he had never noticed how comfortable biobeds could be – and the air fresh and warm. But still his body was aching with non-existing pain.
What if it was just another illusion? One of Telac's perverse games to dash yet another rebuild hope?
He couldn't be sure of that but somehow it didn't even matter. As long as he just left him alone. As long as he just let him finally do what he had wanted to do ever since life had become a nightmare. A never-ending nightmare.
And he couldn't wake up.
It didn't matter that they had found him. It didn't matter that he was going home.
Even if it hadn't been real for them, it had been for him. He knew what he was capable of, he knew what a monster he could become.
There was just one alternative left. He'd just have to wait for the right time.