The BLTS Archive- Sleep
by Blue Champage (rowan-shults@sbcglobal.net)

---

This is something like a hurt/comfort, but more of a
ticked-at-the-universe/comfort. It's set during "A Time To
Stand", the second of the "Call to Arms" triple ep; right
after the Defiant reaches station 375 for reassignment.
Everyone had been up for days at that point during a forced
retreat. Except for Sisko, who went to talk to Admiral
Ross, the Defiant crew have been given quarters where they
can get some rest...before finding out that their next
assignment is aboard a Jem'Hadar attack ship rather than
the Defiant. Personally, I'd never seen Julian, up to that
point, in a less Julianlike state. I'm thinking his closest
friends might have been worried about him...

---

Miles tapped the signal; no response, which was what he'd
expected. If he'd been at Dax's door, or Sisko's or
Garak's, he'd assume it was because the occupant was
asleep--even Nog had been out like a light practically
before he could get to his own room. In this case,
though...Miles casually entered a general-purpose
maintenance code he remembered, then added a couple of
elements, and the door slid open. He stepped in and let it
shut.

It was dark except for the starlight from the window.
Julian was silhouetted in front of it, leaning on the pane
with his arms folded, staring out. He'd undressed down to
his T-shirt, but still had his uniform slacks on.

Finally, without having looked around, he muttered "Oh,
Miles, bugger off, won't you?"

"You're having trouble sleeping," Miles said, not as a
question, "unless you've learned to sleep standing up?"

"Yes, I have. As an intern. And anyway, you're the one
wandering about."

"Just wanted to make sure you'd put yourself to bed."

"Checking up on *every*body?"

"I'm worried about you."

"Spare me, Miles. Worry about us all. We're all in the same
condition. Better yet, worry about the people who are dying
out there. Worry about the families of the dead members of
the Seventh Fleet."

"I do. We all do. But though none of us are exactly
cheerful, you were in a bit better shape than the rest of
us--until that last retreat. And then when we heard about
the seventh fleet...I've never seen you--"

"Angry?" Julian snorted.

"No, not that. I've seen you rage. This is different. Do
you know what the puca is?"

Julian finally looked at him. "You came here to talk about
fairy-tale animal spirits at a time like this?" he growled.

"That's a later meaning for the word," Miles said calmly.
"Originally, it referred to a part of the Celtic soul. A
dark part, powerful, a violent side. Rather a mirror of the
self, but not quite."

"What drove the berserkers."

"That's one example. It also came out in you, as soon as we
heard. I was standing right there. I saw it happen."

"Oh, you did. I suppose you expected me to start laying
waste to everything around me?"

"You wanted to. More than you wanted anything else in the
universe right then, including to live, that was what you
wanted. You'd been dropped into the middle of a Jem'Hadar
garrison, you'd've taken a hell of an honor guard with you
by the time you went down. Instead, it sank in again, and
you doctored like a madman, and kept your mouth so shut..."

"That's what's bothering you, eh? The lack of my
ever-present mouth?" Julian looked back out the port. "Is
there a point to this?"

"Yeah. As much as you used to drive me--all right, as much
as you still drive me bleedin' insane with your
twelve-year-old's brand of idealism...I think I watched it
take a death blow then. Sorta surprised me to realize--I
don't want it broken completely."

"I do *not* need your condescension right now, Miles!"
Julian gritted in a dangerously cold voice.

"Sorry, but I couldn't think of another way to put it."

Julian sighed, rubbing his face with both hands, and went
to sit on the bed. Glacially quiet, he graveled "Please.
Just let me alone. Before I throw you out of here. And
don't think I won't."

"I know you might, that's why I'm here. Will you just
listen? This is important--and it isn't easy for me,
either."

Julian was quiet a moment, then nodded, without looking up.

Miles went on, still speaking haltingly, but with quiet
determination. "I've got experience at dealing with the way
you're feeling now, with what happened to you when you
heard the news...and take it from me, you need someone
around."

"I don't feel like talking."

"So don't talk. That isn't the point." Miles came and sat
down too. "What I mean...well, look. I know where you
wanted to be when you heard. At one time, I'd've thought it
was because you were insensitive enough to want to use a
disaster like that to get yourself the title of 'hero'.
Later, I'd've thought you were just so green and arrogant
you honestly believed that you, personally, could have made
some kind of real difference out there, and your guilt was
self-indulgent. Now, though, I know you're just eaten up
with survivor guilt and frustration and grief like the rest
of us...only worse. You're used to being able to do things
the people around you can't, in general, plus you've always
had...such expectations for this life, and here you are in
the middle of an idealistic healer's worst nightmare. This
is the hardest grief you've ever felt."

"I understand survivor's guilt, Miles. You just said
yourself I'm a doctor."

"You understand it, but to experience it to this
degree...and maybe there is a little of that self-indulgent
I-could-have-helped left in you."

"I COULD have, damn it, done *something*, anything!" Julian
slumped, realizing he'd just given away something he hadn't
been planning to.

Miles waited a moment, then said quietly "We weren't
exactly hiding in an ivory tower, in case you'd forgot.
We're only lucky we came through as well as we did.
Physically."

"None of this explains why you have to be *here* and I have
to listen to this."

"Because with that sort of thing going on in your
head...this is the last time you ought to be left to your
own devices. Your mind'll start eating it's own tail, until
you *believe* the way you feel, right down to your
bones...I've known people that's happened to. It's nearly
happened to me, Dax, the Captain...it's never been so bad
for you before, but it has been for me, so I can tell
you--we don't need to talk. All someone in your position
needs is not to be alone. There's nothing yanks a fit of
existential angst back down to flesh-and-blood reality like
havin' another warm body nearby."

Julian was quiet a long time. "I might make that
recommendation myself--to someone else. I'm not someone
else, and I--"

"--need to get some sleep, and you won't, if I leave. And
from what I know about this--it's not certain the same man
would walk out of here in the morning. Like I
said...annoying as that bushy-tailed brat can be, I want
him to grow up, not die. And he's on his last legs at the
moment."

"Just what the devil do you intend to do? Sit with me until
I fall asleep?"

"Something like that."

Julian very nearly growled again. "I have the highest
respect for your parental instincts and abilities, but
there's a place and a time for them."

"Right. So lie down and be quiet."

"Miles, this is past enough!"

"Julian...will you trust me? Let me do this for me, if not
for you."

Julian eyed him in the dimness. "You're really serious
about this. About not wanting me to wind up...believing
what I feel, I think it was."

"I'm serious."

Julian was still, and Miles, who was sitting by the
headboard, scooted up and arranged the pillow behind
himself, then turned and held out his arms. "Fine, we'll do
this the hard way."

Julian was briefly dumbstruck, wide-eyed; he managed to
whisper "I think you're the one who's been sorely affected
here."

"Shut up, Julian." Miles beckoned with both hands, not
moving otherwise.

Julian's expression suddenly twisted into a blank-eyed,
mirthless stepchild of a smile. "Right, then, you asked for
it." He slid around and let Miles pull him close, and
helped arrange them so his head was on Miles's shoulder.
"You *know* I'm going to tell everybody about this."

"No you won't."

Julian sighed. "Kick your boots off, your heel's in my hip.
Thanks."

If Miles was any judge--and he was--Julian was dead asleep
inside two minutes. Miles relaxed and joined him.

---

"Miles..."

Miles stirred, realized he was sleeping sitting half-up
against a headboard, and carefully turned his head a
little; using the warm weight that lay across him for
leverage, he raised his head and opened his eyes. Oh,
yes...he moved the hand that had been resting on the other
man's waist, shook a bit of deadness out of it, and touched
Julian's hair as delicately as if it had been Keiko
sleeping on his chest, or one of the kids. "Julian?"

"I nearly froze," Julian whispered, motionless, his breath
caressing Miles's collarbone through the grey T-shirt.
"Inside. I had to keep going, and it seemed like the only
way. It was...knowing what I knew...was too much."

"You wouldn't have been the first," Miles murmured. "What
people call guts of iron are usually guts of ice, in my
experience. But I'm glad you fought the fimbulwinter off."

"*You* did," Julian corrected him, almost inaudibly. "You
were right..." he yawned and lifted his head to press his
forehead against the side of Miles's neck, hiding his eyes.

"Shhh...we haven't slept near enough. Here." Miles
rearranged them a little so that he wouldn't wake up with a
muscle spasm the likes of which this starbase had probably
never seen, but relative to Miles, Julian stayed in pretty
much the same place. "Now just let yourself drop off again."

Another small yawn, "...keep my soul warm..."

"Promise. What are friends for?"

Miles felt Julian relax against him, and kept stroking the
younger man's back until he was sure Julian was asleep;
then he closed his own eyes again, too.

---

Miles woke again some time later--a couple of hours by the
chronometer--and realized he was about half insensate.
"Sorry if I wake you, Julian, but I'm going dead," he
muttered, and gently started shifting the other man over.

Julian abruptly came awake, his head jerking up and his
eyes snapping open. His expression was a little beyond
startled, more panicked, as his hand clenched in the fabric
of Miles's T-shirt.

"Easy, there, lad..." Miles gently disentangled Julian's
hand. "They're just dreams...we need to move a bit or
you'll be carrying me out of here in the morning."

"You're not going, then."

"'Course not."

Julian slumped, his eyes closing. "We might as well be
comfortable." He sat up off Miles and turned away, starting
to get out of his uniform slacks. Miles got rid of his own
outer uniform; it took him a moment longer. He noticed when
he turned back that Julian was still sitting facing away
from him, his head bowed.

Miles sat back down. "You were any fairer and your ears'd
be crimson."

A pause. "Very likely," Julian said slowly, quietly.

"There's no need to feel foolish."

"The hell there isn't," Julian muttered.

"Care to hear a little story about the hero of Setlik III?"

"Spare me the inspirational anecdote, Miles."

"I wouldn't call it inspirational, Julian. Embarrassing,
more like."

"In that case, let's have it. I've heard a lot of things
about the hero of Setlik III, but never that he had any
reason to be embarrassed about the experience."

"He can be just a bit stodgy; he doesn't spread this bit
around usually. Anyway." Miles laid his hands on Julian's
shoulders; the other man tightened just a little, but Miles
only began speaking in an entirely casual voice. "Not that
much to tell, really; he'd seen quite a bit of bloody
slaughter by the time he and his people got to that broken
transporter..."

"He saw it at the Barika encampment--he led two dozen
against an entire regiment of Cardassians. Took the whole
lot out. The transporter he repaired in less than ten
minutes, under heavy fire, without a scrap of previous
knowledge as to the workings of transporters. Saved
thirteen Fleet soldiers; anything else to the story?"

"Oh, yes. How do you think he managed to stay so cool after
what he'd just been through, and under that kind of
pressure?"

Julian was silent.

Miles waited a moment, then said quietly "Thanks to my
squad second, the iceman didn't get me, despite what I'd
seen, and what I'd had to do, and I came out with what
turned out to be one in a long series of decorations. I'd
still have done what I did, any way I could manage it, but
If it hadn't been for her...what I'd've lost wouldn't have
been worth a wall full of medals."

"Miles..." Julian half-turned, and Miles moved his hands,
leaving one on Julian's near shoulder when he became still
again. "It's not the same. You were so young."

"Not all *that* much younger than you are now, in more ways
than by the clock. Yes, I do know what you've been through,
what you've seen, what you do every day since this war
started, and you don't know why you should be in such
straights now, after this particular turn in the fighting.
But look at it this way--the carnage at Setlik III wouldn't
have got to you, because of what you do, who you are...but
it did to me, then. What you finally can't live with and
still be able to *feel*...is something different for
everyone."

Julian was quiet; finally he murmured "So what exactly did
your squad second do that was so helpful?"

"Just what I'm doing with you, that's all...one difference.
I was more resistant. We got into a shoving match about it
and she hit me with a right cross that loosened three
teeth. That's when I knew she was serious."

Julian managed a half-smile. "Perhaps I'll send her a
thank-you note."

"Um, about that...I'm afraid she died on the Rutledge. Out
on the border...damn. I shouldn't have said that. S'pose
I'm not as good at this as she was."

Julian was quiet, his gaze focused on the carpet; then he
said "Not that I'm any judge, but I think you're doing well
enough."

"Thanks. Now, we've got a few more hours; let's get some
more rest. Julian...oh, stop being such a baby and come
here."

They climbed under the coverlet, Julian muttering "I'm
sorry. I just can't shake the feeling I should be telling
you I'm all right and don't need this."

"You likely will be all right, by tomorrow. For now,
anyway. But I'll be watching for that damn puca."

"Is it supposed to be an inherently evil thing?" Julian
settled against Miles's chest again. Lying flat, without
their outer clothing binding around their various blood
vessels, the position was comfortable enough--and Julian
had gone for it, once he relented, apparently without
thinking twice.

"No, it's like I said...a reversal sort of aspect, very
strong, but it comes from a place that has nothing to do
with rationality. It has its uses, certainly. It's given me
an edge more than once. But to you...letting yours get hold
of you long would be something you couldn't forgive
yourself for easily. You wouldn't be able to trust yourself
again for a long time."

"I'll take your word for it. And I'll try not to make you
loosen any of my teeth if it comes to it."

"My knuckles appreciate that."

They were silent after that; Julian dropped off like a
stone again. Not surprising, after what they'd all been
through, Julian especially...

---

"Where you headed?"

"The base infirmary to check on our wounded, first.
Breakfast with Jadzia. We're joining the Captain and
Admiral Ross later for initial briefing. You?"

"Meetings with the other engineers. I'm not sure what
about; apparently they don't think we have any 'need to
know' until we get to the meeting." Miles sipped coffee.

Julian got up, having just pulled his second boot on, and
went to pick up his own cup. "No clue at all?"

"Dax has heard nothing from the Captain?"

"Dax said the Captain's heard nothing from Ross."

"Bloody. I don't think I like this."

"Me neither."

They were quiet a long moment, Julian looking out the port,
Miles sitting on the edge of the bed finishing his coffee.

"Um...Miles...I just wanted to--"

"No need, Julian. You've done enough for me, after all,
during our career as one of the oddest couples outside of
Dax and Worf."

Julian smiled. "Or her and Quark."

"Has she ever had anything like a typical relationship with
anyone?"

"Not her style, really. But what I wanted to say was that
I'm sorry I snapped at you. I know coming here last night
like you did can't have been easy for you, to say the
least, and I was no great help."

"I *told* you how I reacted when someone tried to do the
same for me."

"Still. Thank you."

Miles stood up, setting his cup back in the replicator,
then turned to face Julian again. He regarded him a moment,
then shrugged. "Last night wasn't really anything unusual,
Julian. Soldiers old or young love to talk about
camaraderie, loyalty, watching each other's backs in a
fight...but you won't have heard much talk around about how
the battles go on sometimes, off the field, behind home
lines. Doesn't sound heroic; doesn't make a good story. But
it's just as much a part of the loyalty. I wouldn't have
let you be alone last night any more than I'd have
abandoned you in the middle of a battle."

Julian dropped his gaze a moment, then, looked back up and
nodded. "I was only teasing. I won't really tell anyone."

"Bloody right you won't, if you know what's good for you.
I'll see you at the general briefing?"

"See you there. I hope we'll both know more then."

"Yeah, me too." Miles was quiet just a heartbeat, then
turned for the door and started for his first meeting of
the day.

---

The End