(Day 3)
As it became gradually more apparent that their rescue wasn't going to happen before they retired for the night, Garak and Bashir brought extra blankets and supplies through to the living room to make a nest of sorts. In these temperatures, the coffee the pair of them had consumed could only do so much to keep them up. Without enough oxygen to breathe, they had been in a perpetual state of light-headed drowsiness for most of the day. Both reasoned that it would be better to be woken up slumped together on the sofa instead of curled around each other in bed and hadn't needed to discuss the matter.
Julian snuggled as close to Garak as he dared before sighing. "We really s-should have thought to warm the hot water bottle again."
Shivering, Garak agreed wholeheartedly but knew that dwelling on the matter wouldn't do either of them any good. He leant his head against the Doctor's shoulder instead and found himself nodding. "Well, I'm not getting up to do it now. Your hypothalamus will just have to be enough for the both of us."
Julian was impressed at the casual use of medical terminology, Garak seemed to be one of the rare few who truly listened to his plethora of ramblings. In his experience, most people tended to glaze over entirely or at least tuned out the technical jargon. Chuckling, he looked fondly down at Garak. "No pressure there then! You know that it can only do so much. We're well into dangerous levels of sustained cold, even for the warmest blooded amongst us."
Garak yawned and then shook himself, trying to clear the fog which had begun to cloud his peripheral vision. He quietly voiced something that had been playing on his mind. "I have to admit, tired as I am, I'm reluctant to actually sleep in these conditions. Even with you here to share your heat. I have a feeling that once I do, I might not wake up again."
Julian would have been foolish if the same thought hadn't occurred to him. When Garak initially collapsed, he had reasoned that the possibility of it happening again would only increase the longer they were stuck here, along with the potential for it to be more catastrophic and difficult for him to reverse. He was resolute that while he may not be able to keep Garak conscious, it was within his ability to keep him alive and out of danger. Determination surged through him, his own personal stimulant. He had found that when he channelled it properly, it was far stronger and more potent than any caffeine hit.
Julian was feeling more energetic than he had in days. He could do this. They could do this. Eyes shining with renewed purpose, he met Garak's gaze. "I won't let that happen. Do you hear me, Garak? We're both getting out of here unscathed if it kills me."
Garak eyed the stubborn set of Bashir's jaw; it was a look he knew all too well. He had seen it emerge multiple times, usually before the Doctor performed some ingenious and never-before-tested procedure to snatch back a life from the clutches of death. Garak was aware that if he did take a turn for the worst, he was in very good hands. He had seemingly chosen his companion well. "My Dear, you do realise that this isn't some sort of exchange? I would not allow you to put my life before your own."
Julian affectionately nudged Garak with his elbow. "There's not much you could do to stop me if you're not awake enough to make your argument."
Garak shuddered at the thought. "Then we'll both endeavour to stay up. All night if required. Although, it has been some time since I've willingly done such a thing."
Julian quirked his mouth. "Are you proposing a proper old-fashioned sleepover? I suppose we are all set up for one. We've already built ourselves a nice little blanket fort, which is an essential ingredient. Now we just need some sort of delicious midnight snack to feast on."
Garak, inspired by the Doctor's prompt, recalled that he still had one or two of his emergency Delavian chocolates stashed in his quarters. He had found that on troubling days it was a safer addiction to indulge rather than drowning himself in several glasses of Kanar, which had been his previous inclination. Although, his expanding waistline had paid the price in the end for the loss of his implant, it couldn't be helped. Even as a young man, Garak had never been overly impressive in stature. He had always existed outside of what was commonly deemed attractive for Cardassians. His eye colour alone made him an acquired taste as most sought the traditional tall, dark, and handsome characteristics. Interestingly, he had since discovered that this inclination mirrored the historic human standards for male beauty.
Ultimately, Garak's genetics were against him. Enabran Tain was powerful and commanded fear and respect, despite his shorter and arguably more stout appearance. Garak had meticulously kept himself in shape in his youth, hoping to avoid heading in the same direction. Now though, he just had to accept the inevitable and do what he could with what he had. As a tailor, he could at least ensure that he was well dressed in sharp lines and flattering cuts. Also, the extra padding around his middle hid the muscles underneath and further enhanced his harmless shopkeeper guise. The ability to slip under the radar was not to be sneered at and had kept him alive more than once over the years.
Garak decided that he would have to dig the chocolates out later, when they were flagging and more in need of the sugar high. It said a lot that he'd happily share the rare treats with Bashir as he normally preferred to keep his vices hidden from view. The confections wouldn't amount to a midnight feast, but he was already looking forward to surprising the Doctor and being able to enjoy the experience with him. He had always found that food tasted better when in good company and Bashir was the epitome of that description as far as he was concerned.
Garak schooled his features and met the Doctor's eyes. "We don't need to worry too much about our remaining food, there are enough ration packs left. Besides, I'm sure we won't be here much longer; the crew of the Defiant will be working tirelessly to rescue their esteemed CMO."
Julian was thrown by his friend's last statement. Garak's attitude was difficult to predict at the best of times, but for him, that was almost a rousing Federation-style motivational speech and was most out of character. Julian raised an eyebrow. "When did you become such an optimist?"
Garak felt himself deflate at the gentle prod and unconsciously let out a long and weary sigh. Sometimes he wished he had access to the Doctor's enthusiastic optimism, even just for a few minutes a day. He had found himself drawn to Bashir for that very reason, like a moth to a flame. The young man's attitude was almost blinding at times, but he'd so desperately wanted to bask in the light. He routinely had to work hard to think positively, more so since his forced sobriety. Daily life as an outcast on the station took a mental toll. Keeping his head up was a tough ask, particularly on days like these when he was already feeling physically and emotionally drained.
Garak shrugged and looked disparately around his dreary living room. He was so very far away from the sun-baked, dusty plains of his home world. It had never seemed further away and more out of reach. "When my life depended on not simply closing my eyes and giving up… I don't wish for this to be how my story ends. Trapped and alone here, lost in the cold and the dark of space."
Julian noticed that Garak's gaze had become sorrowful and distant again. He reached between them to take Garak's hand, entwining it gently with his own. "You're not alone."
Garak met the Doctor's worried eyes, feeling absurdly guilty that he was the one to draw that expression forth in the young man. He rallied himself, lifted by Bashir's comforting presence. "No, you're right. Neither of us are. We have Kukalaka, of course. He'll surely save the day. He must have some applicable skills for you to have brought him along with you in the first place? I admit, it was clever of you both to withhold them until this most essential of moments, keeping the important element of surprise intact. Does he emit heat or breathe fire? Or is he some sort of site-to-site transporter? Can he singlehandedly rewire the station from here and jerry rig the reinitialisation of life support? If that's the case, I'll put in my request now for a more Cardassian friendly temperature than the station's current default settings. Even an increase by a few degrees would be very much appreciated, but I won't overstep or interfere. I'll leave the matter now in his capable paws."
Julian couldn't help the fit of giggles that burst forth at Garak's ridiculous theatrics. If he'd known that Garak would take so well to Kukalaka, he would have introduced them to each other much sooner. Julian couldn't believe he'd been so worried before. Just when he'd thought he'd got Garak figured out, he'd do something beautifully unexpected like becoming fast friends with his teddy bear. Not that any of it made much difference at this point, he was well and truly smitten with the complex Cardassian.
Julian, rosy cheeked from laughing, placed his other hand over Garak's. "I'll see what I can do. Kukalaka might not be able to assist you there, but I have the ear of our Chief Engineer. I'm sure that I can, at the very least, get the temperature and humidity improved within your shop and quarters. On medical grounds if needs must. There's no reason for both of those spaces to be completely tied in with the rest of the station's settings. I can't promise it will come close to your natural environmental preferences, but it should make your working and living conditions a bit more pleasant."
Garak glanced at the Doctor, stunned by the gesture. Not that any act of kindness from Bashir was truly unexpected, the sentiment seemed to be exuded so naturally as if it cost him nothing at all. He, embarrassingly, found himself rather touched and choked up. If the Doctor was able to achieve such a feat, it would improve the quality of life his beyond measure. Even if he didn't, the thought and consideration alone was almost overwhelming. Unsure what to say to fully express his feelings of gratitude, Garak swallowed thickly and simply nodded. He was clearly ill equipped to articulate anything more.
Dropping his eyes, Garak looked down at their hands and suddenly knew what he could do that wouldn't require any words. He gently lifted his fingers free of Bashir's hold and smiled at his companion's puzzled expression. He then held out his hand in an upright position towards the Doctor, presenting his palm in that distinctly Cardassian way.
Julian's eyes widened as he recognised the motion; he had only read about it and hadn't witnessed the act himself yet. Hoping that he wasn't going to mess this up as he had with his last attempt, he mirrored Garak's stance and tentatively opened his hand. Julian stopped his movement before he made contact, holding back to allow Garak to take the lead.
Garak locked eyes with the good Doctor, appreciating that he recognised the weight of the action. He slowly but determinedly brought the tips of their fingers together, before continuing to press until they were connected palm to palm. He had often imagined them sharing in this gesture of companionship before but had never dreamed it could be a reality. Garak had long ago noticed the elegance of Bashir's wrists and hands; he'd repeatedly held himself back from reaching over the table for them during their regular lunchtime discussions.
Julian held Garak's gaze as he applied pressure with his own hand. He was amazed, the sensation felt much more intimate than he was expecting. Despite the light touch, he could feel the whisper of Garak's withheld muscular strength and was in awe. He'd touched and held hands with plenty of people before, but none of those interactions had ever caused his heartrate to rise like this. Their connected palms seemed to radiate energy and were noticeably warmer than the rest of them. As he looked into his friend's eyes, Julian couldn't believe that he'd never noticed just how stunning the rich swirl of blues were. He felt as though he could almost lose himself in their bright depths.
