#and dad sisko

[alittlewordy]

Prompted Writing: In Cardassian Hands [Elim Garak x Julian Bashir (Garashir) Star Trek DS9 Fan Fiction]

Prompt: Slammed into the top of a desk with their arm twisted behind them + Whumpee wincing and freezing under whumper's weight as they realize they're trapped; if they move any more their wrist is going to break [x]

Word Count: 2,101

Warnings: Ambush, Physical Restraint, Phasers, Third-Degree Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Whump

Characters: Julian Bashir, Elim Garak, Benjamin Sisko, Odo, Random Changeling

Summary: Julian Bashir is alerted to someone entering the infirmary late at night. Upon arrival, Julian notices right away that something is wrong. Still, he steps inside and walks directly into an ambush of one, headed by his partner, Elim Garak. Julian tries to plead with the Cardassian, but it makes his situation worse. It's only when Captain Benjamin Sisko and Constable Odo arrive to save him that Julian realizes how dire the situation truly is.

Read on AO3

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Julian paused in the archway of the darkened infirmary.

When he received the alert that someone was in the infirmary, Julian expected the lights to be on. He also hoped for a patient to be seated in one of the beds, and for a polite conversation over a late night visit. Instead, the infirmary was shrouded, and concealed anyone who might be inside. In the ambient light from the promenade, Julian caught glimpses of supplies strewn across the floor. Julian reached for his combadge, but stilled, hand halfway to his left pectoral. It was 200 hours, far too early to call security unless it was an emergency. A simple break-in could be reported in the morning. His right palm settled on the handle of his holstered phaser instead as he eased into the infirmary alone, towards the console that would grant him light.

“Who’s here?” Julian demanded. His steps eased around scattered goods as he approached the main console. His hand reached for the light command.

A thud boomed from behind. Julian snatched his phaser and prepared to pivot. A hand clamped his left arm, another clenched the back of his neck. Both propelled him into the console. His chest crashed against the surface. Julian dropped his phaser. His left wrist was yanked up his spine. Julian tried to press his right hand to his combadge. There was no room to worm his arm under his torso. His trapped arm was wrenched higher. Julian let out a small scream and stilled.

“Hello, Doctor.” The cadence, venom, but the style was familiar. The combination spilled ice into Julian’s heart and veins. It froze his body, but not his mind, nor his mouth.

“Garak?” Julian managed a steady tone, in contrast to his swelling panic.

“Very astute,” Garak snarled.

“What are you doing in here?” Julian asked. The hand on his neck shifted, but refused to let him go. Otherwise, no answer. The cold silence compounded with the previous frigid injection almost forced a shiver down his spine. Julian repressed it by clasping his right hand on the edge of the console. “If you need help, I can-”

“I do not want your help.” Garak’s emphasis on “your” shoved that restrained shiver down Julian’s spine. Panic threatened to break free next. Julian forced himself to take a deep breath and attempted to rein in his racing thoughts.

Julian knew Garak wouldn’t come to the infirmary willingly, or alone, unless there was something wrong. Garak also wouldn’t talk to him that way unless there were a reason. Julian considered a relapse from the absence of Garak’s cranial wire, but it’d been years since they’d discussed the implant, even longer since Garak needed that kind of stimulation. Could it be a drug like the one on Empok Nor? Another hidden Cardassian implant? Some kind of hypnosis that commanded violence? Regardless, it was possible Garak didn’t remember him. He didn’t say Julian’s name this whole time. If he could appeal to the Cardassian’s heart, maybe he could get free.

Julian swallowed, then turned his head to the left. At that angle, in the dark, Julian couldn’t see the Cardassian’s face.

“Elim, darling, please, whatever it is, I’m here to-”

His wrist wrenched up his back further. Pain seared through his arm to his shoulder as it threatened to break. An airy scream was forced out of Julian. He shook, caught a breath, then whispered, “Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” His muted words paired with the movement of his head as he turned it forward again. A lump grew in his throat.

“You will remain quiet, Doctor.”

Julian clamped his jaw shut. Tears pricked his eyes. After a moment, the hand below the back of his neck eased away. There was a shuffle. Julian wanted to look, to ease his growing concern, but he forced himself to remain as still as he could. His concern surged as a metal cuff locked around his right wrist. The metal was cold.

Wait.

The metal was cold, but Garak was not. The hand clamped around his left wrist was warm. The station was too cold for Garak, much less any Cardassian, to retain that kind of body heat. It was possible the warmth came from Julian, but that much, that quickly? Unless something was very wrong with Garak, that didn’t make sense.

Julian’s left wrist was pulled down his back and the second cuff was secure. The rod between the cuffs was rigid and unforgiving, the Federation standard, but longer. Cardassian make, then. Where had Garak gotten these? Did he have those the whole time? Were they a recent acquisition? Or was Garak-

A hand seized his uniform collar and yanked him to a standing position. The force expelled all questions. A moment later, something pressed into his back, above his cuffed hands. Julian knew it was a phaser, likely the one he’d dropped before.

“Docking bay. Walk.”

Julian walked, but did not intend to go further than instructed. They couldn’t leave the station. There was a war going on. A departure was beyond unsafe. With each step, Julian searched for an out. Yet, he stepped in the turbolift. Yet, he walked down the docking bay hall. Yet, he stopped in front of closed doors that led to a runabout. Garak’s left arm reached around him and pressed the door release. The doors remained shut. That same hand snapped around his left upper arm and jerked him around. Julian lost his footing, but stayed upright due to Garak’s grip on his left upper arm.

Captain Sisko and Odo approached, weapons raised.

“We have you surrounded,” Captain Sisko commanded, “Let Doctor Bashir go.”

“You know I will not do that,” Garak answered. Julian swallowed.

“Captain-” Julian started. Garak’s hand tugged at his uniform collar and jolted his words away.

“That is quite enough, darling.”

No. That was wrong. Everything about the situation was wrong, sure, but that word, that “darling”, was misplaced. It didn’t belong to Garak. Garak said “dear” in reference to Julian, even when the situation begged for no affections. “Darling” was Julian’s choice, a parallel in sound that made their sentiments intertwine. Never did Garak use the affection Julian chose.

This wasn’t Garak.

It explained the darkened infirmary, the ambush, the warm hands, the Cardassian cuffs, the tone of voice, the words used, everything. This was a Changeling, and they were trying to take Julian off the station. The possibility arose in the back of Julian’s mind the moment the cuffs hit his right wrist, but he’d pushed it aside under the flurry of questions his brain produced. How stupid could he be?

“If you try to take Doctor Bashir, you will not leave this station alive,” Captain Sisko said. The words pulled Julian from his thoughts.

“Perhaps not,” Changeling Garak said, “But you will also lose your doctor. Is that what you want?”

Julian refused to die, or be taken, because he was tricked by some Changeling. He wouldn’t be a pawn in their games again. He had to give Odo and Captain Sisko an opening, one that didn’t get him shot in a major organ. The arm or leg. That would be fine.

He glanced at Odo, who return the look. Julian flicked his eyes to the left, towards the Changeling, then back. Odo lowered his head. The phaser against his back twitched.

Julian shoved back and slammed the Changeling into the dock doors. The phaser slipped across his back to point at his arm. Perfect. Odo lurched forward. The Changeling fired. Scorched agony burst across his right forearm. Julian screamed and heaved to the right. Odo zipped by his left. A whack echoed. Julian fell out of the doorway and landed on his right side. Pain flashed. Julian clenched his eyes and jaw shut, then peeked over his left shoulder with left eye squinted to see if he was in a dangerous spot. The Changeling shifted to its malleable form and rocketed up the vent. Odo followed, form as pliant. Julian sighed and closed his eyes.

“Captain Sisko to security, Constable Odo is following the Changeling through the vents. Track the constable’s badge and cut the Changeling off.” Captain Sisko’s touched his shoulder and side. “Doctor, are you alright?”

“I will be, it just got my arm.”

Julian struggled to sit up. Captain Sisko grabbed his left arm and helped him get upright. Once stable, Julian’s compromised position and the painful sear rushed to the front of his mind. Heat flushed his cheeks and ears.

“I’m sorry, Captain, I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“It’s alright, we all failed to realize a Changeling got on board. We will all learn from this.” Captain Sisko’s hand moved from his left arm to his shoulder. Julian nodded. He felt Captain Sisko squeeze that same hand. “Let’s get you out of these cuffs and to the infirmary.”

“I believe I can be of assistance.”

Julian looked up to see Garak approach from down the hall, Cardassian phaser holstered at his hip. His hands were up. Captain Sisko’s phaser flicked towards Garak, who paused and smiled.

“Apologies,” he said. At that distance, Julian watched Garak pocket a hand and pull out a sewing kit. “You never know when there will be a wardrobe malfunction. A tailor must always be prepared.” Garak opened the lid with one hand, removed a needle with the other, and pricked his finger. He tucked the needle away, closed the case, then held up his hand. Blood oozed.

“Garak,” Julian breathed.

“I told you to stay in your quarters,” Captain Sisko said as he lowered his phaser.

“Did you? I’m afraid Cardassian hearing is not nearly as good as that of a human. But, since I am here, perhaps I can help the dear doctor and you can direct your authority towards the capture of the Changeling. Unless you would prefer I work with security, in which case-”

“Help Doctor Bashir.” Captain Sisko climbed to his feet.

“A wise decision, Captain,” Garak responded. Julian watched Captain Sisko run down the hall to the turbolift. His eyes focused on Garak again when the Cardassian knelt beside him, all signs of deception absent from his eyes. Garak’s left hand fell onto his shoulder where Captain Sisko’s was moments before.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Garak’s voice was soft, as if such a question was a secret. Julian gave him a smile.

“I’ll be alright. Could you get me out of these?”

Garak shifted behind him, then jarred to a halt. Fingers from Garak’s right hand brushed the skin next to the phaser wound, across exposed skin. A tinge of pain twitched Julian’s fingers.

“Garak?”

The hand lifted. “I apologize, Julian. I was… distracted.”

Julian felt Garak’s hand lift from his shoulder. Both touched the cuffs.

“How long will this-” Julian began. The cuffs popped open. Julian breathed a laugh. “Take.” He brought his arms in front of him. The forearm of his uniform was burned through. The skin underneath was a collage of black, red, and white. At the center, a pinpoint, the skin was gone and fat remained. Third-degree. A dermal regenerator and a few weeks rest should fix it up, but a scar may remain, a constant reminder of how foolish he’d been.

Out of his peripherals, Julian saw Garak circle his right and kneel in front of him. The Cardassian’s hands tucked under both forearms.

“I can’t believe I got tricked,” Julian whispered.

“Perhaps it will help you understand how the rest of us felt when we discovered a Changeling had taken your place.”

Julian nodded, but shame kept his eyes on the wound. He should have known that wasn’t his darling Garak. The Cardassian would never ambush and cuff him like that. Julian knew better, yet he allowed himself to be deceived. What did that say about his connection to Garak? Did he really understand the Cardassian at all?

After a moment, Julian felt Garak’s hand moved from below his injured arm and brushed his jaw. Julian’s head and eyes tilted up in time to see Garak close in.

Cool lips pressed against his own warm ones. The kiss was delicate, near fragile. Julian closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. An ease washed through his skin, through his veins, to his once chilled heart. Their lips inched apart, first the bottom, then the top, before Julian rested his forehead against Garak’s.

“Thank you, Elim,” he whispered. A thumb brushed against Julian’s jaw.

“Shall we go?” Garak asked. Julian allowed their touch to remain for a few moments longer.

[trekfacility]

sisko wanting to build a spaceship out of wood and try it out just for funzies is so me!!

[youngpettyqueen]

I know the decision to have Julian's parents have him augmented was made on the fly but imo its pretty obvious from early on that Julian has Family Issues because he avoids talking about his family like the plague and I think they should've incorporated this into the Julian and Sisko dynamic right from early on because I think it would've made for some really compelling stories and moments and could've set up a REALLY interesting Julian and Jake dynamic which they kinda started to do but never fully went for

[vaguely-concerned]

the way garak looks at bashir as he puts all the clues together at the end of cardassians. the sheer 'look at that little twink go (affectionate, sexual overtones)' energy he manages to convey in the background there as bashir passionately does the presentation of their group project that garak did 80% of the actual work on. immaculate

[cuterefaction]

Trektober Day 13 - Baking. TBH I'd like to draw about two dozen different Star Trek characters baking, but since Odo is canonically bamboozled by the concept of stirring he had to take it :) (it's okay, Sisko will help him fix whatever happens)

[amultitideofdrops]

Gotta love how deliriously happy Sisko becomes whenever someone hands him a baby

[peachviz]

Fatherhood in Star Trek is my undoing.

Sisko really is the world’s #1 Dad

[etakeh]

Worf was trending on Father's Day.

and they say Twitter isn't funny anymore

[exasperatedoctopus]

Bajoran: I love my cardassian (derogatory) son and would never do anything to hurt him despite his Evil, Evil roots and inherent badness due to being a cardassian

Sisko, a Dad: Your fatherhood has been Revoked, please proceed to the nearest runabout

[bagheerita]

Absolutely brutal. She took no prisoners.

(Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, s4e5 "Indiscretion")

[raspberrywiskey]

the tng watch experience is made so much better when you remember that picard is an old French man. that's an old French man giving that speech. that's an old French man being harassed by that pansexual God alien. that's an old French man being abducted my the borg. he just wants to ride his horses and drink tea !! leave him alone !!

[rottenarmour]

thinking about how insane and hilarious it is that a bunch of people died and an interstellar conflict was set into motion all because sisko wanted to have some father-son bonding time by helping jake with his science project

[softcthulhuwu]

kirk is like your cool gay uncle in a longterm situationship and pike is your cool ally dad who doesn't always get it but still gets you your first binder send tweet

[caffeinatedceaslesswatcher]

Do you ever think that the moment Garak starts to understand why so many people perceive Sisko as a mentor/guide/space dad, is when he angrily hits Garak for ''failing'' his assignment in the pale moonlight? No you only think about yourself.

[vaguely-concerned]

there are a lot of daddy issues to go around on DS9 in general, but odo, bashir and garak are really in their own special little fucked up 'what am I but wrought in my father's image' club

[cuterefaction]

#Trektober Day 25, "Shuttlecraft". I'm reasonably sure there's a Starfleet policy of only sending the crap ships to DS9 given how often they get totalled.