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Time wasn't passing.
Julian shook his head, trying to dislodge that ridiculous thought from his mind. Time was passing, just as normal, second ticking away into minutes, hours, days. Yet, that thought remained. He drummed his fingers on his table, eyeing the screen showing him how far the Defiant was on its journey back to Deep Space Nine. The ship was moving, warp nine, but they still seemed so far away from home. He rubbed a hand over his face. It lingered there for a moment too long as he murmured to himself, “he is alive. It was a simulation. The Founders were toying with us.”
Yet his heartbeats were still 1.5 percent faster than they should be.
His whole body itched to move.
His long legs ached to run down the station's corridors, across the Promenade, straight into Garak’s shop.
To see him alive, well, busy with his work.
Not slumped against a wall.
Not dying.
But the Defiant didn't have long corridors. The walls were so close, looming over him, scratching at his throat.
He looked at the screen again. Nine hours still to go.
“Enough,” he murmured to himself as his hands acted before he could think twice about it. He typed a simple message, two words.
“Lunch tomorrow?”
And pressed sent, his heart running against his ribs, fingers drumming against the side of the PADD.
Time dilated once more. Julian stared blankly at the screen.
When the answer came back, Julian gasped.
“Of course, my dear doctor, I look forward to it.”
Julian took a shuddering breath. His eyes burnt bright as a wide smile opened on his face. He brought a hand to cover his mouth, trying to suppress the gasp of relief that ripped out of his chest. He pressed an open palm on his heart, feeling the rhythm starting to relax.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
He burst out laughing.
Garak was alive and well and he was going to see him soon.