Nineteen

His next achievement was regaining control of his facial muscles.

It took another few hours of intense practice and willpower before he was able to grimace, smile and poke his tongue out. Jabara and Dax were both thoroughly impressed with this sudden improvement, though they continued to warn him that full restoration of muscle control could take significant time. They estimated it would be several weeks before the neurotoxic effects of the poison had worn off completely, and he would require intensive physiotherapy and speech therapist sessions before returning to duty.

He didn't care. He was just happy to be able to move something, even if it didn't achieve much.

He didn't even mind that he wouldn't be able to talk for a few days, if not weeks, despite the five straight hours of stretching and flexing he'd completed; Dax had made it very clear that he was not to push himself, as there would be time to report on what had happened to him later.

Part of him was secretly grateful for the continued forced mutism. My vocal cords are probably fried after all of that screaming anyway.

If anything, now that he knew Garak was alive and on the road to recovery, he didn't feel like talking to anyone. He was content to sit quietly in sickbay, staring off into space as the staff buzzed around him, only providing the minimal level of attention required.

He was subconsciously aware that this was definitely abnormal, but he found he didn't have the energy to care. I'll wait for the station's counsellor to diagnose PTSD before I do.

Recognising that he'd been through a traumatic event, Julian thought it meant that the first nightmare shouldn't have come as a shock.

But he realised they were far more terrifying when experiencing them while still paralysed. His fatigued and drug-riddled hippocampus presented him with a confusing collage of various figures of Michael, proudly showing off his collection of various surgical devices before sticking them into various parts of Julian's body. He realised the strange noises he kept hearing were his own muffled screams, and the puddle underneath his feet was actually blood.

It wasn't until he had fought free of the grips of unconsciousness that he had the horrifying realisation that most of the horrors he had been shown were memories. Oh my God…

The maniacal laughter was still ringing in Julian's ears as his eyes bolted wide open, his adrenal glands kicking into overdrive. I think I'm gonna be sick…

His patient gown was now drenched in a puddle of sweat that he couldn't wipe away; screams muted by his unresponsive vocal chords; limbs that wanted to flail but remained pinned to his sides. All he could do was pant and rasp pathetically while blinking away the tears that had formed in response to the fear-inducing stimulus, praying that someone was on duty to notice his distress.

In his narrow field of vision, which consisted of a single computer unit and part of the narcotics cabinet, he came to the conclusion that he would have to ride this 'episode' out on his own. Desperately wracking his tired brain, he attempted to recall the spiel he would recite to patients who presented with anxiety attacks, yet his mind came up empty.

He chose to resort to good old-fashioned self-reassurance. I'm safe, I'm okay. Martin isn't here. Martin isn't here. Martin…

"Julian?!"

Dax! Oh, thank God.

"Julian, your heart rate is one hundred and forty. What's going on?" Dax knelt by his bedside, grasping his unresponsive hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. She had a dressing gown on over her uniform, which made him wonder if she had been sleeping in the infirmary.

He felt the familiar urge of frustration reappear as he fought to keep his breathing under control. How am I supposed to tell you Dax?! Julian realised his tears were an advantage in this situation, and briefly stopped repressing them long enough for a few to slide down his cheeks.

Dax's face instantly morphed from concern to heartbreak. "Oh, Julian…are you in pain?"

He still couldn't move his head, and his lips still wouldn't move in the directions he needed for mouthing words, so he resorted back to their blinking system. No. One blink. Come on, Jadzia, work it out…

A yawn interrupted Dax, prompting her to gaze at the nearest chronometer. She turned back to Julian with an expression that told him she was putting the pieces together. "Nightmare?"

Two blinks. More tears began to wet his face.

Blinking away her own tears of compassion, Jadzia leaned down to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. She wiped his brow with her sleeve before delicately dabbing his eyes. "Oh, Julian, I'm so sorry. I knew we should've offered you a sedative. I-I can't believe we forgot-"

One blink. I would've declined anyway.

Jadzia stroked his damp hair comfortingly; in a strange way, it reminded him of how his mother used to do the same when he was recuperating on Adigeon Prime. She sighed deeply before speaking. "I know that you can't tell me what you were dreaming about, but I'm assuming it was to do with what's happened?"

Two blinks. It's a shame you're not Vulcan, Jadzia. You'd be able to see exactly what happened to me. How he strapped me down and tore my skin apart like it was a sheet of paper and how I felt every incision and how delicately he sliced the digital nerves in both hands and how tightly he wound hose bandages around my mouth and how they cut into my lips and wait why am I sobbing-

"Breathe, Julian."

His lungs screamed.

The incessant alarming of the heart rate monitor gradually slowed.

"That's it, Julian. Slow breathing."

I thought I was breathing, but anyway.

Jadzia's voice seemed to be the light he needed to focus on in the surrounding darkness. The edges of his vision slowly sharpened, the colours slowly returning until he could clearly see Jadzia.

He felt his sinoatrial node and medulla oblongata finally kicking back into gear, settling his erratic heart rate and slowing his breathing.

Julian sighed wearily. Great. Now I have to blow my nose.

"Would you like a sedative to get through the rest of tonight?" Dax proposed quietly. "It's just gone 0200 hours-"

One blink. For some reason, he now felt incredibly tired.

Dax nodded, squeezing his hand again. "Do you want me to stay for a while?"

He felt his eyes beginning to sting again as he blinked twice. Why am I crying again?! I just stopped!

Realising there was no fighting this process, he allowed his body to take control and weep silently, Jadzia stroking his hand tenderly. I cannot wait until I can talk to you about this instead of sobbing.