JMJ

Chapter Thirty-Four

Violent Tenderness

In the old days Rom had been too afraid to talk to the Blessed Exchequer. When he had gained self-confidence enough not to be a cowardly, petty shadow of his brother on DS9, he had thought of the Blessed Exchequer as of little importance even if he had never truly decided whether or not he existed until far later, but now he was praying to somebody. To whoever Quark had been praying to. That's who. He had been praying to somebody, and it had worked better than praying to any sort of exchequer.

Rom's eyes were too blurred with tears to look at anyone around him. He hardly had time to look at his mother, though when he thought of her, he was nervous of the fact that she sounded more troubled than he ever remembered her sounding. Even the death of Keldar had not shaken her to such uncertainty. Grieving beyond belief, yes. They all had. This uncertainty in her was something new and too unnerving to handle right now.

His ends of palms were pressed together, and that was all he could do. No one spoke except Arkos occasionally to Leeta. Brave Leeta kept her light-heartedness for his sake, which was more than Rom was able to do. She had Arkos watching a holo-comic of some kind, and she even laughed gently at the appropriate times for him, but Arkos was very distracted.

Rom felt a choke in his throat.

He had been a terrible father. He had been originally a terrible father to Nog when living on the station. Whenever Quark had been too hard on him, he would in turn be too hard on Nog and take it out on him. Sometimes that "taking-out-on" had actually even been physically abusive.

Rom swallowed hard recalling that even if he was long sorry and made up that by now, but he had been rather neglectful of Arkos lately even if it was not nearly what he had done to poor Nog. It was a different problem. Being leader of an alliance of planets and being a father were two things that were hard for him to be at the same time.

He had thought of himself as so good since his reforming to Federation ways— or Bajoran as he felt more inclined towards since his marriage to Leeta, and yet… he knew he was not so good now. He knew that his envy of Quark's reforming to an ancient belief from his own planet really did have all to do with it as it had been proven to him now. It had felt good to have the moral high ground over his brother. Too good maybe. It had certainly made him proud, he supposed, but not on purpose. Ever since Quark had changed— really changed, Rom had not known how to handle anything anymore. And now Quark's life was on the line… again.

As soon as Dr. Bashir appeared, Rom had not been so deeply in thought that he had not noticed him. He was the first to bolt to his feet.

"What happened?" Rom demanded. "Nog said that he wasn't accepting his pyrocyte either!"

Bashir smiled, and it was then that Rom noticed too that he sounded confident and not at all stressed in the sort of way that would have meant something terrible had happened that he was reluctant to tell.

"He's—"

But Rom did not give him the chance to say it.

Rom had intended on letting Sharlezeed go first even as he ran first to the room. After all, he had not really been very nice to her, and she was Quark's wife and all. Well, she did not know that he had not been very nice to her, because they had never interacted really. Not even now, except to wait for news of Quark. He had thought about saying something, but he had changed his mind every time. Besides, he had been too busy praying for Quark to be okay, which was something he was not used to doing anyway.

But as soon as the door opened and he saw Quark sitting like himself on the edge of the biobed casually just finishing a drink of water, he forgot about everything else. He ran to him and instantly gave him a hug. Quark seemed to have been preparing for it, but even still lurched at the violence of the action that was more of a collision than an embrace.

"I'm sorry, Brother! I'm sorry! I wanted to think you were still the way you were before! I'm sorry! I was jealous, okay! I was jealous of you! I'm sorry I resented Sharlezeed too! I hated that she was a Hidden Profiter! I hated that she came out of nowhere, and I hated she was your wife from the beginning and that you never told me even when you blamed me for what happened with Prinadora! I didn't want you to be better than me! I wanted you to still be that crabby old dink bar tender! I didn't want to accept that you were doing everything to make up for what you did in every way! I didn't want to believe it! I suck! You're a better man than I'll ever be! I—I—I— say something, Brother!"

"Well," said Quark embraced so hard by his younger sibling that he had been unable to move and had hardly able to breathe, much less speak, until this second. "I would if you slowed down enough to give me the chance."

Everyone else was in the room now. Rom ignored them even if Quark looked behind him for a peek. He felt Quark limp a little in his arms from his tense initial response as he relented to it all, and Quark smiled.

"Sorry," sobbed Rom as he backed up with a sniffle.

He pried himself off, but he seemed to have nearly been glued to Quark.

Quark took a breath or two, and then looked at Rom with a sigh.

"I'm sorry too," he said plainly.

"That's it?" Rom asked.

Quark shrugged. "What do you want me to say? I don't blame you for not trusting me, or even for feeling envy. It's always been sibling rivalry between us, and—"

"It's not all your doing," said Ishka suddenly.

Rom could hear him shudder just a little, and Quark's head dropped; though they both turned to her.

Ishka frowned darkly, but no one was fooled by it. It was only to hold in what was coming, and already Rom, beside himself as he stared at her dumbfounded, stepped aside for her. Ishka never said whose doing it was, but then she was a proud woman and she did not have to say. Her swelling body said enough, and her motion told more as she came towards Quark grasping him with all her might, which was quite a bit of might for one so aged.

"Moogee…" breathed Rom.

Quark was at a complete loss for words, and all was silent as Ishka held her son's head to her chest. It took a moment for Quark to hug his mother back, and when his arms were all the way around her, she tenderly kissed his head. Quark swell of tears welled in his eyes. A choke like a withheld squeak escaped him, but it was Ishka who let tears fall down her leathery withered cheeks.

Rom knew that Quark did not trust himself to speak. Rom clenched his teeth for him as he watched as though watching some agony that he was helpless to remedy, though he knew even then that what was happening was what he had wanted for years. To truly happen. Not a truce, not a compromise, but a wholeness completed.

"I love you," she said.

"I…" choked Quark, and he quickly cleared his throat trying hard not to burst into sobs, "I love you too, Moogee."

"I know," said Ishka breaking away and looking very steadily at him now.

Quark looked bravely back for a moment or two, but then his usually strong blue eyes faltered under her intense unfaltering gaze.

"Quark."

"Yes, Moogee?" Quark lifted his eyes again with care.

"I'm proud of you," she said.

That was too much. He squeezed his eyes shut and let the tears fall even if they were only two and he grasped his mother as hard as he could back, shaking as he did hard enough to be seen by the Humans present let alone be heard.

The old woman stroked Quark's head as she had to a couple little boys a long time ago, but Rom thought never so dotingly as this, because it had never been so loving as this, because there had never been a reason for her to feel as penitent as this. Rom still was not sure if it was penitence now, but it certainly was making up for something.

At last, he turned to Leeta.

She had almost been about to touch his shoulder, and she stopped as he looked at her.

Arkos snatched his hand, and he was already grasping Leeta's. At last Rom smiled. His picked up Arkos and held him tight. Arkos light-heartedly hugged him back, now seeing it as a sign that things were going well with his family.

"But is he okay, Rooga?" asked Arkos whispering it into his ear with a confidentially cupped hand. "Uncle Quark is all reddish."

The others no doubt heard him, but no one bothered to look, except Bashir and Arkos bashfully hid his face behind his father's head from those twinkling eyes.

Rom looked at Quark then and realized he had not noticed the color, but then Arkos did have sharper eyes even if he did have a less acute sense of hearing.

Gently, Ishka pulled away once more, though Quark seemed somewhat reluctant like a very tired little boy unwilling yet to be out of the warmth of Moogee's arms and set into bed, but as everyone beheld him and listened, Quark smiled sheepishly.

"It's kind of… uh… an amazing story, but—uh…"

"Yes?" pressed Ishka.

"He stared down at his fingernails again and examined them beside himself.

"I remember making the…" Quark began rather uncharacteristically quiet, "well, it's not really a contract, but it is in a way. More than a contract, really. I wanted to help my people. More than anything, I wanted to save them. Though, not all my intentions surrounding it were sincere, I'll admit, but the part of me that was… the fact that I was given that opportunity… I still don't know why me."

Arkos pressed against Rom cocked his head as he listened quite intently, and if Rom did not know any better he seemed to be understanding it far more than he was. Then again, Arkos, as gentle as he was, was far quicker to understand things that Rom was. He looked at Arkos and Arkos looked back with funny sort of smile that made as much sense as what Quark was saying.

"Well," Quark said then clearing his throat, and his voice strengthened a little. "I guess 'why me', doesn't matter. I agreed to help my people, and I was given the opportunity to do so, but it was only done through letting go to something bigger than me and my silly ego. I don't deserve it, you know. I… I wasn't a very good person before all this… I guess this last year I was trying to fix that. Even that I have to partly thank Dr. Bashir for, but mostly—"

"Quark!" said Sharlezeed then quite suddenly.

Rom had almost forgotten she was there, and he turned to her with some surprise.

She looked quite pale and shaken and looked hesitant still. Ishka stepped back to allow her to come forward, but a hint of suspicion lingered in the old mother nonetheless.

Sharzee lowered her head and with the utmost humility stepped up to Quark like a lowly indentured servant daring to bow her head before the Grand Nagus himself. Then suddenly she fell upon her knees.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "Quark, I'm sorry. The Dayitela forgive me, but I'm… you're the impossible come true and I'm not worthy. You don't have any pyrocyte. You lived and I… I'm sorry. I don't deserve you! If you knew—!"

Rage flushing his face rather unusually red, Quark dropped down beside her and knelt there to grab her shoulders firmly. As she looked away and began to cry, with one hand he lifted her head to look him firmly straight in the face.

"Sharlezeed, don't ever talk like that again," he told her.

"But I—"

His kissed her and did not let her speak. He hugged her as though with the intent of never letting her go. After a few seconds, Sharzee hugged him back.

"Whatever you want to tell me," said Quark very gently. "Tell me later, alright?"

"Okay…" agreed Sharzee shakily.

"But don't ever say you don't deserve me," said Quark. "Don't ever. We're in this together as we should be."

"What?" breathed Sharzee.

"Husband and wife," said Quark. "Partners. Our worth is the same no matter how different we are, and that's what makes it beautiful. Heh! How corny is that, huh?"

She laughed just a little, but she soon shook again. Tears trickling down her cheeks, she nuzzled her face deeply between the lapels of his suit jacket and found her way to the nest of his chest. His buckle on its partly ripped chest strap tinkled against her earlaces and cupped awkwardly beneath her chin. There, she relaxed.

She was listening, Quark knew. To his living self. It probably sounded pretty bizarre so lively and yet thinned without the pyrocyte. Raw, maybe might be the word. But more-so she was probably listening to his love. He was probably oozing with the emotion of the moment. His body, however, could not express the humbled love he truly felt for her or anyone else in this room. It made him choke again, but he did not cry. He calmed too and his hold relaxed. He smiled quite content as lifted her tenderly once more to rest his forehead against hers.

Rom sniffled once more and wiped a tear from his eye as he beamed goofily from ear to ear.