(Day 3)

Garak opened his eyes several hours later to discover the good Doctor sprawled across his chest. Relations between them had apparently improved whilst he'd been asleep. Oddly, Bashir wasn't wrapped up in the blankets himself, and his normally warm skin was chilly and covered in goosebumps. Garak wondered why he was only wearing his grey short sleeved shirt, which couldn't be doing much to combat the freezing conditions. He also observed that the thin garment in question seemed to be on backwards, suggesting the Doctor had gotten dressed in a rush. Shaking his head at his companion's apparent self-neglect, Garak breathed in sharply as his muscles screamed in protest. He felt as though he'd been trampled by a riding hound. Make that several riding hounds.

Garak's whole body was sore, his head was swimming, and he ached all the way through to his bones. Evidently, things had been a lot worse than he'd thought. Had Bashir needed to resuscitate him? Garak knew his own limitations; the cold must have lowered his key functions enough to induce a coma state. The fact that he was awake now, after losing consciousness earlier in the day, highlighted the true extent of the Doctor's immense knowledge and skill. It appeared that he had been saved. Again. How much more could he possibly owe Bashir? This wasn't the first time that he had gone above and beyond for him, an ill-advised and dangerous trip to the Arawath Colony was another such example. And yet, given all of that, what did he return the young man's earlier attempt at kindness with? Sharply honed insults, that's what. His speciality. Garak was fully aware that a well-aimed cutting remark could be more devastating and last longer than any physical wound.

As he assessed the scope of his condition, Garak was amused to find that his legs were snugly tucked up in bed and yet he was naked from the waist up. He could infer from his and Bashir's current state of dress just what actions the Doctor had taken to raise his temperature when it had become critical. Moving to sit up, Garak tried not to jostle Bashir too much but fortunately he didn't stir. The young man was now lay almost in his lap and looked completely exhausted. How many hours had he been diligently caring for him without taking a break? If he knew the Doctor, he already knew the answer to that. He'd never seen Bashir walk away from a patient when he was needed, his personal wellbeing was always an afterthought.

Garak took this opportunity to study his companion who seemed to be dreaming. The Doctor's gentle face was pulled into a frown, and he had started to mumble incoherently under his breath. He didn't catch much of the garbled words beyond being able to pick out the occasional "…please…don't…No!", Bashir was steadily becoming more animated and distressed. Garak was reluctant to deny him the chance to sleep, when he so clearly needed it, but he concluded that the Doctor was hardly in a restful state right now.

Shaking Bashir's shoulder, Garak tried to rouse him. Which turned out to be no easy feat. "My Dear...? Doctor…? Doctor Bashir…? JULIAN!"

Julian finally responded. Wide-eyed and chest heaving, he jumped backwards and tried to get his bearings. "Wha-What happened? …Garak?!"

Some of the stress immediately dropped from Julian's face in recognition. "You're awake! Oh, thank goodness. How are you feeling? Are you alright? I apologise, I dozed off for a few minutes there. I'm so sorry Garak, I should have been more attentive. Let me at least fetch you a drink or something before I check you over? You must be parched. I wasn't able to hydrate you very effectively."

Garak moved quickly and reached for Bashir's arm to prevent him from leaving. "It's ok, Doctor. Take a breath. You've done a marvellous job. Come up here and just sit with me for a couple of minutes before you do yourself a mischief."

Julian reluctantly allowed Garak to pull him up fully onto the bed, surprised to find himself drawn under the blankets to sit shoulder to shoulder with the Cardassian.

Garak rearranged the bedding to cover them both up and turned to catch the Doctor's eye, his gaze as intelligent and piercing as ever. "Are you alright? You seemed to be having a nightmare."

Julian was aware that he tended to talk in his sleep, even more so when he was suffering with bad dreams. He flushed and looked down in embarrassment, not knowing how much he had revealed. "I… er didn't disturb you, did I?"

Garak's eyes softened and he nudged Bashir's shoulder lightly with his own. "No, my Dear. I was already up. Thanks entirely to your hardworking healing hands, I might add. I know I'm the last person to ask this of anyone, but is there anything you want to talk about? You sounded pretty upset back there."

Julian focused on Garak's face, glad beyond anything else that he was alright. This wasn't the first time Julian had thought he'd lost him; it was no easier experiencing it for a second time.

Feeling compelled to open up, Julian decided to fill Garak in on some of the recent goings on that he had missed. He knew that this abrupt inclination may well be due to the dip in breathable oxygen, but he ploughed ahead with his story anyway, regardless of the consequences. "I don't think I ever actually told you what went on in the Gamma Quadrant when we finally came face to face with the Founders?"

Garak raised a ridge, his curiosity peaked. That was the last thing he'd expected the Doctor to say. He knew that something unusual had occurred, the senior staff had been noticeably rattled for days. Extra security protocols had been added to the Starfleet files, so he hadn't gotten around to reading through the reports himself yet. Garak was suddenly filled with concern. What had upset Bashir this much that he was plagued even as he slept? He felt his blood boil at the thought of the good Doctor being harmed or put in a difficult position, the Dominion weren't exactly known for their decency. He wouldn't imagine they would treat a medical officer any better than they would a regular soldier. Garak tried to calm down, the Doctor was here, wasn't he? He didn't remember him spending any time in the infirmary as a patient, he surely would have noticed.

Taking a breath, Garak gave Bashir his full attention and tried to ignore the growing feelings of dread which had settled in the pit of his stomach. "No, you didn't. Did something happen to you there?"

Julian nodded glumly. "Yes and no. Actually, something happened to you there."

At Garak's blank look, Julian continued. "You see, we all ended up inside some sort of simulation. The Founders wanted to know how Federation and other Alpha Quadrant species would react if faced with a possible war with the Dominion. The crew and I were hooked up together and experienced this shared series of projected events. It all felt completely real, much more convincing than any holosuite program."

Garak was, if possible, even more confused. "And how does that relate to me?"

Julian shot Garak a half smile. "You were there in the simulation with me and played a pivotal role in the whole thing. We plotted to destroy the wormhole to permanently cut off the Dominion, then you ingeniously helped us escape the station. It was all very heroic; you'll be pleased to hear."

Smirking, Garak had to call the Doctor out on his assumption. "Heroic? Hmm, that doesn't sound right. This version of me must have been disproportionately skewed by your far too good opinion. Wasn't this simulation supposed to be realistic?"

Julian's face darkened; all amusement gone in an instant. "It was realistic. Too realistic. You ended up getting shot by the Jem'Hadar as we fled and… died in my arms."

Garak's mouth opened in shock, genuinely amazed that his death would have this sort of impact. Wanting to lighten the mood, he raised a ridge and posed an important question. "I hope that I gave as good as I got? Or, at the very least, took some of them out with me?"

Julian met Garak's eyes, his admiration for the man shining through. "You were incredible. You outwitted and disabled several of them without even breaking a sweat. We wouldn't have made it out without your quick thinking and sharp shooting. The problem was, I couldn't process the fact that you were gone. I was frozen in place, staring down at your body in disbelief. Jadzia ended up having to practically drag me out of there. Then later, once everything was revealed as an elaborate fiction, it didn't switch off my feelings of helplessness and loss. This has been eating away at me ever since. I was ordered not to discuss this with anyone, so I couldn't even talk to you about it. Earlier today when I thought I'd lost you again, it brought it all back to the surface."

Garak was at a loss. The good Doctor appeared to have actually mourned him. He'd always assumed that there was no longer anyone who genuinely cared if he lived or died, exiled as he was out here in the wilderness.

Bashir meant far more to Garak than he should, it was something he had to consciously temper. He was the only beam of light in his dark and dreary shadow of a life. The only good thing on this miserable station. One of the most effective ways of combating his regard for the Doctor had been in convincing himself that there was no way the young man could ever return his feelings, that the whole thing was completely one-sided. The only people he had ever seen Bashir pursue had been young, attractive, and female. Garak was secure in the knowledge that he was none of those things. Dax was a notable exception when it came to age, although Jadzia individually ticked the rest of the boxes. However, the Doctor was open minded about most things. Could it be the case that he was as free and open when it came to seeking out enjoyable company?

Garak felt his control start to slip as he contemplated Bashir's cumulative actions; helping him expose Dukat's involvement in the Cardassian orphan scandal, fighting to save him when his wire malfunctioned, going off to face Tain and the Obsidian Order of his own volition, keeping up their regular lunchtime debates and putting in countless hours reading through his recommendations, the ease of his physical affections towards him (particularly over the last few days), his current efforts to save him from hypothermia, and added to all of that was this revelation that the Doctor was genuinely affected by the idea of his death. Even now, months later, despite his knowing that it wasn't real, Garak was able to read the raw anguish clear as day in Bashir's eyes.

Garak honestly didn't know what to say or what to do. He knew that he wanted to offer his companion some consolation, and with little else available to him, he reached between them to take the Doctor's hand in his own. When Bashir didn't object to the move, he gently interlaced their fingers, marvelling at the warm soft skin that was so very different to his own. Garak squeezed the Doctor's hand and tentatively caressed him with his thumb, in what he hoped was a soothing action. He didn't exactly have a wealth of experience to draw on.

Julian was incredibly moved that Garak had sought his touch, their previous physical interactions had almost always been initiated by him. He had concluded that Garak just wasn't comfortable with that sort of thing, which made this gesture all the more poignant. Additionally, drawing from the array of Cardassian books he'd read, the act of touching or joining hands carried far more significance than it would back on Earth. This was no mere whim on Garak's part. Of that, he was sure.

Julian solidified his hold of Garak's hand and, before he could talk himself out of it, leaned over slightly to lay his head on Garak's shoulder. After a beat, he felt Garak respond in kind. As he lowered his head to rest against his, Julian had to stifle a soft moan at the reassuring press of scales against his skin.

The moment between them seemed to elongate and grow heavier. Both were highly aware of the other's every movement, down the smallest detail. No longer feeling the cold of the room, the places where they touched each seemed to sizzle with building electric energy. Neither had spoken to verbalise what was happening, they just sat there together. Garak and Bashir were waiting with bated breath to see who, if either of them, would take them that one step further. Which one was brave enough to test the waters?

An unexpected sound cut through the thick silence like a knife, startling them both.

"Doctor Bashir? Sisko to Bashir. Julian…? Please respond."