Archive of Our Own ^beta

The truth, if Garak were ever forced to admit anything so gauche, was that he’d never thought he’d live long enough to deal with any of the physical ailments that tended to prevail in late middle age. Although there was something to regret there, he had thought that it was probably for the best if he shuffled off this mortal coil (to quote the dreadfully indecisive Hamlet) before a lifetime of poor choices caught up with him.

That was, of course, before he fell in love with a doctor, who seemed to take it as a personal challenge to keep him alive and healthy for as long as possible. That also had the effect of making Garak want to live longer, so as to eke out every minute with Julian that he could.

It was unfortunate that for the past three years, Julian had been living in Tain’s old beach house on the Ba’atan Peninsula, serving as a doctor for the small village of Ralokral, and visiting Kardassi’or every six weeks on supply runs. Garak had been supportive of the decision, of course, and glad to see how much happier and more comfortable Julian was in his new home. His happiness was especially visible on the admittedly rarer occasions when Garak was able to visit him at the beach house and see him in his element. He would never have suggested that Julian move back to the city, not when Julian was so happy where he was.

And yet... Garak had to admit that the situation was not ideal for him. In Julian’s absence, his care for his own basic needs had... slipped. It was all too easy to work long hours when there was nothing and no one to go home to; it was easy to stop in at a local bar after a long day and have a glass or two (or three...) of kanar instead of going home to cook and eat a well-balanced meal; it was easy to skip exercise in favor of more work when there was no infectiously enthusiastic Federaji doctor offering to teach him racquetball or tennis or go swimming with him at the hot springs or just engage in a bout of vigorous love-making (for the purpose of cardiovascular health, of course).

And, well... there were moments when Garak found himself a bit... melancholy. Not depressed, but sad about it all, because for a brief time he’d had everything he had wanted, Julian and Cardassia at once, and it was unclear when or even if he would have that again. There were nebulous plans for the future, once Garak retired, but who knew when that would be? The work of rebuilding was endless. All the things that he had once found satisfaction in –– his gardens, his community organizing, his cultural portfolio –– had all seemed to dissipate in recent months, until his days were nothing but an endless march of unpleasant meetings with unpleasant people. So there were moments, many of them, when he was sad, and tired, and maybe, possibly (though he’d never have admitted it, not under any amount of duress) a bit resentful of how not sad or tired Julian seemed.

He wanted Julian to be happy. But was it so much to ask that he be happier with him than without?

He was, of course, careful to conceal these feelings from Julian. He had very little doubt that Julian would have moved back to Karassi’or if he’d known how unhappy with the situation Garak actually was. But Julian had moved to Cardassia, a planet renowned for its xenophobia even when it wasn’t a burned-out husk, for him. Garak could not ask anything more.

“You should say something to him, Garak,” Kelas had said on multiple occasions, usually when Garak had had a little too much kanar and revealed just how deeply lonely he was. “He thinks you’re fine here without him.”

“I most certainly will not say anything to him,” Garak always replied, sharply. “And neither will you. He’s happy where he is. I won’t take that away from him.”

Kelas always sighed, but to Garak’s knowledge, he’d not said anything to Julian. If he had, he was certain Julian would have said something to him. And so things continued, and would continue. Indefinitely.

It was fine. Garak was fine.

***

The day had not started well.

Garak had slept poorly, again. The bed was too big and too cold. Julian was supposed to visit this week, but Garak had woken to a message from him, calling the visit off. I’m so sorry to do this, darling, but one of my patients has had some complications with her pregnancy, and I don’t feel right leaving her. One of my assistants is going to do the supply run this month.

It would be another six weeks before Julian could come. This happened occasionally, but this time, for some reason, it hit much harder. Perhaps it was because Garak had not been feeling especially well. In addition to sleeping badly, he’d found himself out of breath several times when he should not have been.

The responsible thing would be to say something to Parmak, who was Garak’s official physician. Garak hadn’t. He’d hoped that Julian’s visit might set him right. Or, barring that, that Julian would notice something was amiss, as he always had before. Maybe he would even stay a little longer than usual, just to make sure Garak was all right.

It was pathetic, Garak knew. It was pathetic to wish for some relatively minor but somehow still serious enough ailment just to keep Julian with him a little while longer. It was pathetic, and now, it was a moot point.

Garak sat and stared at the message for a long time before replying. Of course, my dear. I hope all is well, and I look forward to seeing you next time. What else was there to say? His own work made leaving Kardassi’or very difficult, after all.

He’d had no appetite for breakfast. Fueled by two cups of gelat, he’d arrived at the office to find that his entire morning had been upended because a former gul was angry about something. Garak could not bring himself to care what it was; he didn’t even really care that the man was in his office, berating him personally. Until some of what he said started to penetrate the fog that seemed to have enveloped Garak’s brain.

“–– your Federaji paramour,” the man sneered. “Not that anyone’s seen much of him lately. Finally drive him off, did you? Or perhaps he just found someone else to bed. If you ask me ––”

“No one has,” Garak snapped, finally standing up. “Get out of my office. Get out ––”

He gasped. A sharp pain had just shot down his left arm. He felt strange, lightheaded and out of breath, dizzy.

“–– want us to deal with the Federation when you can’t even control your own pet Federaji ––”

“Doctor Parmak,” Garak managed, leaning heavily on his desk, one arm clutched to his chest.

“–– no surprise, given their proclivities –– what?”

“Doctor Parmak,” Garak gasped. He sat down abruptly, clutching his chest and wheezing. “Please. My assistant –– Doctor Parmak ––”

His vision was starting to tunnel. This was not good, Garak thought. Not good at all. He slumped in the chair, trying to control his breathing. The former gul was finally calling for help, but Garak wasn’t sure it would get there in time. It was harder and harder to keep his head up, harder and harder to stay conscious.

His last thought before he finally succumbed was, Julian is going to be furious.

***

He drifted in and out of consciousness, barely breaking the surface.

There was a low beeping noise that was constant. Sometimes someone Garak didn’t know was in the room with him, and that was unnerving. Often there was no one, and that, too, was unnerving. He didn’t have the strength to fully open his eyes or speak, much less defend himself. He always sank back into oblivion before long.

The first time he was properly awake, there was pressure and warmth on his hand, as though someone with a much higher core body temperature was holding it.

“J’lian?” he mumbled.

“Yes, darling, I’m here. How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Garak managed. That was an understatement; he was so fatigued he could barely hold his eyes open. He couldn’t even make Julian out beyond a dark blur.

“I’m sure.” Julian squeezed his hand. “You suffered a myocardiac infarction — a heart attack. You’re stable and out of danger, but you need to rest and give your body the chance to heal.”

“Oh,” was all Garak could say in response. He could feel sleep tugging him under again, but there was one question he had to ask. “Staying?”

“Yes,” Julian said, and there was something strange in his voice, something almost like sadness. “Yes, Elim. Of course I’m staying.”

***

The second time he woke, it was to familiar voices, speaking in hushed tones. Garak’s training asserted itself and he stayed very still, listening. The fatigue was not as awful as it had been, but he was terribly sore. His chest hurt, which was not unsurprising, but so did the rest of him, from the crown of his head to the bottoms of his feet.

It was, truly, rather humiliating. He’d known that heart problems were a possibility since his illness three years ago. But he hadn’t ever really thought they would be a problem. For most of his life, after all, he’d assumed he’d die well before he had to think about any of this.

“He always seemed fine,” Julian was saying. “I don’t — three years, Kelas! Has he been miserable this entire time and I had no idea?”

“I think it was easier at the beginning. The effects have… accumulated over time. Has he talked to you much about how his job has changed?”

“Well, I thought he had, but now I’m questioning whether any of it was true. I knew he was sad to hand over the gardens and his cultural portfolio to others, but you know Garak — he just said that he was willing to serve and find satisfaction wherever Cardassia most needed him.”

Parmak snorted. “That does sound like him. But I think changes to his job do not suit him. It’s much more bureaucratic, with much more... I guess you could call it domestic diplomacy, dealing with different factions. My impression is that he’s very good at it –– better than either Lang or Ghemor, which is why they lean on him for it –– but he doesn’t enjoy it at all. So he’s been under stress, and he hasn’t been eating or sleeping well. I think he’s been drinking more than he should.”

“He’s depressed.”

“Yes, I suspect so.”

Julian was silent for a bit. Then he said, “I know why he said nothing to me about it. But why didn’t you say anything, Kelas? I see you almost every time I come to Kardassi’or.”

“He’d asked me not to. And quite honestly, I didn’t realize that it had gotten so severe — not that I think any of this caused Garak’s heart attack, precisely. His father had a history of heart disease, after all.”

“But it definitely didn’t help,” Julian said. “Contributing factors.”

“Indeed.”

Julian was quiet again, this time for long enough that Garak started to doze. “Thank you, Kelas,” Julian finally said, waking him.

“Of course. I’m on call tonight, so I’ll be back in to check on you in a few hours. Let the nurse know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Parmak left. Garak heard Julian sigh and move closer to the bed. He put his hand over Garak’s. “The jig is up, Elim. I know you’re awake.”

Garak opened his eyes. The expression on Julian’s face was not easily categorized. Garak, by virtue of years of practice, detected both sadness and guilt but also exasperation and helpless, almost embarrassing fondness. “Hello, love,” Julian said, bringing Garak’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Would you like some water?”

“Please,” Garak whispered. His voice was raspy and weak, barely recognizable to his own ears.

Julian poured him a cup from a pitcher on the bedside table and offered it to him with a straw. Garak took several careful sips. His mouth was terribly dry; he could feel the water sinking in, as though into a garden bed that had been long neglected.

“Is that better?” Julian asked softly, sweeping the hair back from Garak’s forehead.

The gesture was kind but Garak had to know. “How angry are you?”

Julian’s eyes widened. “Angry? I’m not — Elim, I’m not angry. Not at you. If I’m angry with anyone, it’s at myself.”

“But I lied to you,” Garak stated plainly. “Many times. Every time you asked me how I was, or if I was enjoying my work, I lied.”

Julian shook his head. “And I should have known. I should have seen what was happening. There were so many signs looking back, I can’t believe I didn’t put the pieces together.”

This simply wasn’t right. “Dearest, you cannot blame yourself. I was quite careful.”

“Still, I should have —”

“No,” Garak said, with all the authority he could muster while lying flat on his back in a hospital gown. “No, you shouldn’t have. I don’t want you to blame yourself.”

Julian sighed. “I can try not to. But that’s the most I can promise. Should I bother asking why you lied?”

“You told Parmak that you knew.”

“I think I know. But I can’t be sure unless you tell me.” When Garak said nothing, Julian sighed and said, “I think it’s because you knew how much happier I was in Ralokral, and you knew that if I knew how unhappy you were without me here, I’d have moved back in a heartbeat. So you lied.”

“Yes,” Garak admitted hoarsely. “You must understand — Parmak is right. It wasn’t so terrible at first. But then, my work changed… and I could see how much happier you were, and I knew you would have given it up for me, but I couldn’t — I couldn’t make you that happy on my own —” Garak’s voice cracked and he looked away, ashamed.

“Oh God, Elim.” Julian’s own voice sounded shattered. “I never meant you to think — I’ve missed you terribly. Of course I have.”

Garak couldn’t bring himself to look at him. “How is your patient?”

“My patient?”

“The one with pregnancy complications that you decided to stay behind for this month.”

“Oh,” Julian said, still sounding confused. “Well, the town’s longtime midwife is looking after her. This isn’t ideal, but I’m hoping to be back in time for the actual delivery.”

“Ah,” was all Garak said.

Julian was quiet for so long that Garak finally did have to look at him. He was frowning. “You were always so understanding whenever I had to cancel a visit. That was another lie, wasn’t it?”

“Not precisely. You’re a doctor. Of course your patients come first. I do understand that.”

“My patients are important,” Julian acknowledged. “But so are you, Elim. I never, ever wanted you to think otherwise. If I had known…” He sighed heavily. “Well, I know now, and this clearly isn’t sustainable. I’ll start making plans to move —”

“No,” Garak said abruptly.

“Oh for the love of — please don’t be stubborn about this! I’m not about to —”

“Julian,” Garak said softly, and Julian subsided, staring at him expectantly. “You shouldn’t move. I should.”

Julian blinked. “But… the government. Your job.”

“Lang has things well in hand. Someone else can do my job, probably better than I currently am. It’s all felt so very difficult lately.”

Julian’s mouth twisted sympathetically. “What about Cardassia? I know how important serving Cardassia is to you.”

“I will find other ways to serve,” Garak said. “I always have. But I want more time with you — both minutes in a day and years of my life. That time is feeling rather finite, at the moment.”

Julian’s eyes were very bright. “To me, too. I was so scared when Parmak called me. I thought I might lose you, and it made me think I was insane for ever suggesting we live apart. Especially not knowing when it would end.”

“It was very reasonable at the time,” Garak said, because even he had not thought that it would be as difficult as it had become. And if he hadn’t known, Julian certainly couldn’t be held accountable for not knowing.

Julian, of course, looked like he disagreed. But instead of saying anything, he stood up. Carefully, without disturbing the various sensors attached to Garak, he climbed onto the bed, wedging himself in. “Remember the last time we did this?” he asked, once he was settled, with Garak’s head resting on his chest. “I thought I was going to lose you then, too.”

Garak didn’t answer. Julian’s fingers were moving slowly through his hair, and Garak could feel all the tension and stress in his body dissipating and being replaced by the sense of safety and well-being that being so close to Julian induced in him. There were biological explanations for it; Julian had explained them to him once. Of course, most people just called it ‘love’.

Until Julian, Garak hadn’t known he could feel like this. He was probably on some fairly potent painkillers, but this felt better than any of them.

For long minutes, neither of them spoke. They just held each other silently, breathing together. “Neither of us is going to be miserable from now on,” Julian said at last, very softly. “We will figure out a way to make this work. But I need you to be honest with me. I know that that’s asking a lot of you, but I need to know if you’re unhappy.”

“You’ve done so much for my happiness,” Garak said, his voice drowsy. “I can hardly ask you to do more.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, darling. And I hope someday you see that.” Garak felt him press his lips to the edge of his hairline. “Rest now. I’ll be here when you wake up. From now on, I plan on always being here when you wake up.”

Garak’s heart was old and battered and broken in myriad ways, but hearing that filled him with dangerous amounts of joy and hope. He closed his eyes and trusted that when he opened them again, it would be to Julian’s beloved face.

Fin.