The BLTS Archive - The Dangerous Ones third, and end, of The Brotherhood Is Not by The Blood series by Kathryn Ramage (kramage@erols.com) --- Paramount owns Star Trek, DS9, and the characters even if they never really knew what to do with them. This story was written purely for entertainment purposes. Copyright April 1999 "Alone at Last" and "The Dangerous One" are sequels to Mary Knasinski's "The Brotherhood is Not by the Blood." Mary's story is not online as far as I know; it originally appeared in the first issue of the zine, "Doctor, Tailor, Officer, Spy." However, I think that, with a bit of explanation, the sequels shouldn't be too hard for those who haven't read the first story to understand. In "The Brotherhood is Not by the Blood," Garak and Bashir are captured and tortured by the Maquis. After they are rescued, their relationship becomes abusive. Julian tries to hide the truth and to cope as Garak becomes more brutal to him. When the two go to Bajor and Garak vandalizes the tomb where the Maquis who tortured them are buried, the situation can't be overlooked by anyone any longer. The boys are sent off to Betazed for some therapy. At this point in the story, there is a 6-month gap before the final scene, where the boys are reconciled. When I first read "Brotherhood," I wondered what happened during that gap, and wrote the first sequel, "Alone at Last" (the first 4 paragraphs are from "Brotherhood," but the rest of it is my writing). After I showed "Alone at Last" to Mary, we wrote "The Dangerous One" together. Both stories were intended to appear in a subsequent issue of "Doctor, Tailor, Officer, Spy," which was never published. There was some talk of a third sequel, but so far nothing has come of it. --- Odo waited outside the doorway, tense and apprehensive. Not a sound could be heard from within the room, and his acute hearing was even more sensitive than usual as he focused his attention on it--but there was still silence within. It had been one hour and five minutes and the constable could wait no longer. "Doctor? Are you all right?" Still no sound. "Mr. Garak?" Odo reached out and keyed open the door. Garak and Bashir were sitting on the floor near the bed, Garak cradling the doctor in his arms, stroking his hair and murmuring something to him. Bashir, eyes closed, was breathing deeply and seemed to have fallen asleep. Odo stepped forward and gently touched Garak on the shoulder; the Cardassian did not even look up. "Mr. Garak--your time is up. I think Doctor Bashir needs his rest." Garak continued rocking slightly and gently murmuring, then repositioned Bashir in his arms and lifted him onto the bed, placing Bashir's head on the pillow. He reached down to try to remove the doctor's boots, but Odo shook his head and led him away. "It's all right--don't wake him up. I would like to--talk with you." Garak nodded and followed Odo out of the room. The door hissed shut behind them. "Care to join me for a cup of tea?" Garak nodded. --- The next morning, Odo felt far more confident of the success of his mission than he had felt the night before. Garak, while reclusive and defensive, was nonetheless more 'reachable' than he had seemed in several weeks. Odo had apologized, in his own fashion, for the intrusion into Ten Forward, and the Cardassian had seemed not only understanding but even rather amused by it. Garak had not been amused by anything, as far as Odo could recall, since before the incident with the Maquis. Yet he was still not "Garak," in many ways. He still posed a threat not only to Bashir but even to himself, as his quiet resignation only emphasized more poignantly. While he was more willing to speak about trivial things, and speculate on matters of general interest around Deep Space Nine, it was as if a wall came down and shielded him from any mention of his ordeal or the one he had been inflicting on Bashir. Odo, briefed by Sisko and also coming to certain conclusions of his own, could still not even imagine the depth of the Cardassian's misery, a misery that would cause him to inflict the harshest pain on the person he loved the most. Perhaps the therapists on Betazed could lift that wall, unlock that door. If not, Odo seriously doubted whether Bashir's own ordeal would ever end. "Good morning, doctor," he said, as Bashir entered the dining hall. "Did you rest well?" "Well enough." Odo looked for Garak to be close behind, but didn't see him. He had left the shared quarters out of respect for the Cardassian's privacy, telling him simply to join Bashir and himself for breakfast within the hour. Escorting his charges like prisoners would not perhaps be the best method after all. "Where's Mr. Garak?" "I don't know," Bashir answered, preoccupied. "I didn't see him." "Didn't see him? But you were in your room when I left--he was out in the living area, reading." "Well, I didn't see him. I got up, got dressed, and went for a walk in the hydroponics bay. Garak must have been in his room." "No doubt." Odo nodded. Bashir was even more distant than usual, but then again, the previous night had been a stressful one for him. Just then, Garak entered the room and saw Odo and the doctor. He hurried over to them. "Julian--I asked you to wait for me." "I'm sorry. I felt like going for a walk." "But -" Garak fell silent. Odo, pretending not to notice, looked down and continued perusing the PADD he had been reading. Bashir turned on his heel and stood in front of the bank of replicators; Garak, after a moment, followed him and stood a few meters behind. Bashir chose a simple breakfast and then carried the tray back to Odo's table. "Mind if I sit here?" "Not at all." Odo moved the PADD aside; Bashir sat and bent his head low over the tray as he quietly began to eat. A short time later, Garak approached with his own tray, standing and waiting expectantly for Bashir to slide over. Instead, the doctor jumped to his feet, grabbed his tray, and set it down on a nearby table. The Cardassian simply stood and watched him, as Bashir again bent his head and began to eat. Garak lowered himself down into the seat across from Odo and stared silently at the food in front of him. Bashir, after a few more mouthfuls, during which he was becoming more and more agitated, threw down his fork and stood up. "I'm sorry--I'm just not hungry. I think I want to go for another walk. And, Odo..." "Yes?" "I want to be assigned different quarters. I don't want to be in the same suite with Garak. There's a room near the security office--I want to go there." Garak raised his eyes and stared, his mouth hanging open slightly. Bashir looked down and began to fidget. "I want to go there, I said. Can you arrange it?" Odo, after a moment of silence, began, "Yes, I suppose -" "Good. I'll go for a walk and meet you back at our quarters in an hour. Thank you, Odo." He turned and quickly left the room, without a glance at the Cardassian. Garak's hand tightened on the edge of the tray, but he said nothing. Odo cleared his throat. "I suppose it's for the best. You'll have time together on Betazed." "Will you excuse me, Odo?" Garak rose and likewise left the room. Odo began to follow, then decided, against his better judgment, to wait for awhile; Enterprise security was already monitoring the two new guests, and Odo was uncertain of just what sort of intervention would best help this new and puzzling situation. --- After he had been moved to his new quarters, Bashir spent the rest of the morning in the hydroponics bay, where he felt comfortably at home and faced nothing more challenging than clipping the dead roses off the bushes and snagging a few thorns. A remarkably understanding botany technician, who was probably used to people who not only enjoyed the varied beauties of the gardens, but liked to keep themselves busy, had handed him a small but sharp pruning knife and directed him where to trim. It saved him from absently tearing off random leaves and the heads of healthy flowers. When he returned to his rooms, his hands and wrists were lightly scratched and his shoulders ached from stooping over the rose beds. He went straight into the shower to clean himself up, and emerged from the bathroom to find Garak sitting on the sofa in the living area. "Wh-what are you doing here?" he demanded, furious, frightened. As he caught Garak's eyes traveling up from his still-damp legs to his partially exposed chest, he hastily clutched his robe shut at the collar. "You didn't answer your door," Garak replied. "I assumed you were not in, and decided it was better to wait for you in here than to stand out in the corridor. This ship's security personnel have been monitoring me since last night, and I didn't want to do anything that looked suspicious. I have no interest in their Federation secrets." "I locked that door. How-" Julian stopped when he remembered how easily Garak had breached the seal on his own door; in the Cardassian's opinion, Federation security was 'pathetically inadequate.' "How did you find me?" he asked instead. He had deliberately not told Garak the location of his quarters. "I asked the computer. It was extremely helpful in directing me here." Bashir felt just how inadequate the security system was. "Garak, please leave. I don't want to call for help, but I will." His hand went to the place on his chest where his commbadge should be, but wasn't; he regarded his visitor with increasing anxiety. "I merely wanted to talk to you," Garak said. Julian nodded. Warily, he approached the sofa--he would have to pass close by Garak to reach the comm panel and the door--and sat down in one of the armchairs. He kept his bare knees pressed together and his hands were clasped tightly in his lap to keep them from trembling. "What is it?" "I want you to tell me why you've moved here. I agreed to go to Betazed so that we could be together. You refused to come without me." "Yes, well, I've been thinking about that. I don't think it's such a good idea," Bashir answered reluctantly--not because he doubted his decision, but because he had no idea how Garak would react to it. "Just last night, you *begged* Odo-" "That was last night. I wasn't myself, haven't been myself for a long time," he tried to explain. "I have to get away from you. I can't think when I'm with you. You do too much to my emotions--I'm too afraid, too angry. Too much in love with you for my own good. I've let you do things to me... Garak, I need time to sort it all out. They'll let us see each other at the Psychiatric Institute." Garak listened to this announcement without interruption. His face remained expressionless, disturbingly unreadable to the young man watching him for the first sign of danger. "And while we're on this ship?" he asked. Julian shook his head. "I want to be by myself. *Please*, leave me alone." "Julian..." Garak began, rising from his seat. "Don't-!" Bashir recoiled at the sudden movement and knocked his chair over as he tried to scramble over the low back. Garak was at his side, taking his arm to help him up--and Julian lashed out in a panic. He swung his fist, striking the Cardassian's face as hard as he could. "Get your hands off of me, you bastard!" When Garak let go, he sprang toward the comm-panel and slapped to open a channel. "Security to Dr. Bashir's quarters, deck 12, section 33. Emergency!" The security office was just down the corridor; two armed guards were at his door within seconds. The guards took in the scene--the doctor in his robe, the knocked-over furniture, the Cardassian standing perfectly still and stunned in the middle of the room--with expressions of disgust. Julian ignored this. "Will you please escort Mr. Garak out of my quarters," he ordered, voice shaking with emotion. "Where do you want us to take him?" one the guards asked. "To the brig? Back to his quarters?" "I don't care--just get him out of here and *keep* him out." He whirled on Garak. "I don't want you near me!" The guards drew their weapons and advanced cautiously toward Garak, anticipating the worst, but Garak held up his hands to show that he was not going to put up a fight. "Gentlemen," he told them, "there is no need to resort to force. I'll go quietly." He went out without giving Julian another glance. --- Bashir had barely finished getting dressed when he received a message from Capt. Picard, summoning him to the ready-room. "You've given us quite an adventure or two since you came on board yesterday," the captain began in a light, ironic, scolding tone as he gestured his guest toward the sofa. But his manner was restrained as if, beneath his outward show of friendliness, Bashir's presence made him uncomfortable. "My apologies, Captain," Julian said, and took a seat. "I've been a little confused lately." "Indeed," Picard responded. A fresh pot of tea sat on the table, nestled between four integrated cups; the captain poured a cup as he continued: "I want to hear your version of what happened this morning, Doctor. According to the Security team's report, Mr. Garak entered your quarters uninvited and assaulted you." He offered the tea to his guest. "He didn't touch me, sir. He said he only wanted to talk --you see, I've decided that it's best that we don't see each other for awhile, until we begin our therapy. Garak doesn't agree." He did not tell Picard that he was considering severing the relationship completely if Garak continued to threaten him; he didn't really want to take that step. He had to think of his own safety, but in spite of everything, he hadn't given up all hope of getting the man he'd fallen in love with back. "When he began to get angry, I panicked," Julian admitted. "I was afraid of what he might do to me. I am sorry, sir. I won't be any further trouble. I can't speak for Garak, but I hope-" desperately "that he won't be either. Er- where is he now? Did they take him to the brig?" "No, he's been confined to his quarters in your Security Chief Odo's custody. You needn't worry--Mr. Garak will be kept under closer guard in future," Picard assured him. As much as he wanted to take comfort in this, Julian wondered if this increased vigilance would be enough to protect him if Garak was really determined. Although he'd never liked the oil-of-Bergamot tang of Earl Grey, Bashir sipped his tea while Picard poured out a cup for himself. "I've taken the time to review your records, Dr. Bashir," the captain went on. "It's quite impressive: You were one of the top students in your class at Starfleet Medical, CMO at Deep Space Nine at the age of 27. Only a few months ago, it looked as if you were at the beginnings of what promised to be a remarkable career." "The Maquis changed all that, sir." Picard nodded. "You've suffered a terrible trauma--it's understandable that it's left you emotionally disturbed, but I don't believe you're beyond hope yet." He gave Bashir a small, stiff, but encouraging smile. "Now, I've been told that you were involved with Mr. Garak before you were captured by the Maquis. Your relationship with him was partially responsible for your abduction, wasn't it?" Julian heard the soft undertone of disapproval, and understood the reason for the captain's reserve. "I'd like to make sense of your behavior, Doctor, both before and after your abduction as well as on my ship." "You mean, how a promising young Starfleet officer fell in love with a Cardassian?" asked Julian. "I have gone beyond the pale, haven't I?" The Federation did not hold very many sexual taboos these days, but by going to bed with Garak, he had obviously breached one of them. "It's the nature of this involvement that concerns me," Picard replied and sat down. "Normally, I would say that your personal life is not my business, but in this case I feel I have to intervene. I've spoken to Mr. Odo, seen your medical reports. I know that you've been in an abusive relationship with this Cardassian for weeks." Julian couldn't deny this. "I have to wonder how anyone--a Starfleet officer or any sane, sentient being--can claim to love someone who's been torturing him. *That*, Doctor, I find impossible to understand." Bashir had shrunk back against the sofa cushions as Picard spoke; even as he replied, he kept his eyes down. "It wasn't like that in the beginning, sir. Before the Maquis got hold of him, Garak was always gentle with me. Careful. I believe he did love me then--I think he still does." "After all he's done to you?" the captain sounded incredulous. "You don't know him the way I do, what he was capable of before we were captured." "Oh, I know what Cardassians are capable of," Picard announced drily. "I know something of what you've endured." "Yes, sir. I've heard about that." Who indeed had not heard of the captain of the Enterprise's capture and interrogation by Gul Madred? "But you're not being fair. If I've suffered, so has he. Garak has as much reason as I do to be disturbed. Before this thing happened to us, he would never..." Here, Julian stopped. He wanted to say that Garak would never have tortured anyone, but he knew that wasn't true. Picard leapt upon his hesitation. "What is it?" "Nothing, sir. It's only a rumor," Julian answered reluctantly. "Garak doesn't talk about his past." Although, he admitted to himself, Garak *had* given him more than enough hints to rouse anyone's suspicions. And hadn't he spoken to Enabran Tain himself? "But it's been said that he once belonged to the Obsidian Order." "The Obsidian Order," the captain sat back, stunned, as he hissed the words. "Cardassia's intelligence agency." He did not say it, but both of them knew that the Order had been responsible for his interrogation. "There's never been anything proven," Bashir added. "But you believe it, don't you?" "What does it matter?" Julian asked back. "Even if it's true, it was a long time ago." The captain left his chair and began to pace on the other side of the table, before the windows. After a long and thoughtful silence, he said, "You won't like what I'm about to suggest, Dr. Bashir, but I can't believe a man who has routinely used the sort of cold-bloodedly ruthless information-gathering techniques Cardassian interrogators are famed for can simply turn his back on that life. A man like that doesn't change his character. Is it possible that Mr. Garak never left his former profession behind? His earlier tenderness toward you might have been nothing more than a disguise to lull you into a sense of false security and make you trust him? And your encounter with the Maquis only brought out his true nature?" "No. He *did* care for me. He's here now because he knew I wouldn't go to Betazed without him." But even as he insisted, Julian couldn't help thinking of how Garak had treated him-- not merely, brutally beating or raping him, but making a systematic effort to degrade him and crush his spirit. The way someone accustomed to breaking prisoners would. Picard was watching his face intently, observing as doubt crept into the young man's expression. "It is possible, isn't it?" Julian answered meekly, "I don't know." "We've both been in the hands of skilled professionals, haven't we, Bashir?" Picard leaned forward toward him, hands on the conference table. "But the difference between our experiences is that I did not enter that private hell willingly, and I would have done anything except sacrifice another innocent person to escape. You have embraced your prison." Then the captain retreated and continued in more sympathetic tones. "I can't hold you entirely responsible. Cardassian agents can be...extraordinarily persuasive, but surely you realize now that your relationship with Mr. Garak has done you an immeasurable amount of harm? You've already taken the first steps to get away from him, isn't that so?" "I want to be safe, sir," Julian told him. "I don't want to be afraid anymore." Picard sat down again. "We are still several days from Betazed. I want to help you as much as possible until then. I'd like you to see Counselor Troi for regular sessions." "Yes, sir." "The Counselor has already advised me that it might be good for you to be out among other people as much as possible. As long as there are no further disruptions, I don't see why you shouldn't have free access to the public areas of the Enterprise." "Thank you," Julian answered. "What about Garak? You will keep an eye on him?" Picard sipped the last of his tea and considered this. "Under the circumstances, I think it's wise to restrict his movements. He'll be kept to his quarters for the present. I'll ask Counselor Troi to talk to him, assess his mental condition. He won't be allowed to trouble you, Doctor, to follow you or break into your quarters again. Between the ship's security and Chief Odo, I think we can manage that." --- Perhaps everything was going to be all right, after all. Bashir closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of the Earth roses clustered directly in front of him. This was his favorite place on the Enterprise--he was only now beginning to recognize that fact, that the ship's hydroponics bay soothed and comforted him to an almost uncanny degree. It was most likely the fact that the intermingling scents of plants, flowers and soil took him back to a more peaceful time in his life, a time not without problems but when those problems seemed able to be solved--the time before he arrived on DS9 and took up residence permanently on a space station. Yet that realization troubled him, too. The fact that being in space was now associated in his mind with hopelessness, with disorientation, with being cut off from life and from happiness... Perhaps the hydroponics bay wasn't as healthy of a refuge as it at first appeared. Still, it was so peaceful there, so warm and so unthreatening. He sat back on the bench and closed his eyes, enjoying a brief rest from the pruning chores he had again volunteered to take on. Far off on the other side of the room, the young technician he had been helping was spraying water onto the gardens there, and the sound was so much like rain that Bashir started to doze. All he needed now was the gentle rustle of the wind in the trees and he'd be perfectly at peace... And then a hand touched his hand and his heart nearly stopped. "Doctor," Garak whispered, leaning close next to him, "I knew you've been spending much of your time here. I wanted to try to talk with you again." "G-" Bashir sputtered, his mind in a whirl. Garak loomed over him, his face stern, his hands now clenched at his sides, his expression ominous. "Doctor," he whispered again, more insistently, "will you please just let me TALK to you?" Bashir was nearly incoherent, his heart pounding with terror. Surely he was to be punished now for publicly humiliating Garak at breakfast, and then in his quarters--surely the relative isolation of the hydroponics bay would afford just the opportunity the Cardassian needed to perhaps take out his frustration at all of the degradations Bashir had forced upon him... In his irrational horror at the sight of Garak again, no thought at all remained to him except for one. He would not be powerless against this man again--he would not quietly surrender to him again. Bashir's fingers closed around the handle of the pruning knife he had been holding loosely in his palm, and suddenly his course of action was clear. Garak, preoccupied and frantic at being discovered by the security staff, never saw the blade cut quickly and deeply across his palm as he tried to place his hand on the doctor's shoulder. In fact, as the gentle warmth of his own blood started to ooze from the wound, he simply stood and gazed down at the gash in his hand, then up to Bashir's face, showing both horror and rage. Bashir lunged again and this time Garak's instincts took over, as he tried to block the second thrust; Bashir could only graze his arm with the tip of the blade, tearing the Cardassian's sleeve but not cutting too deeply. One more parry, and it was all over. Two security guards took hold of Bashir, while another one pulled Garak back, blood dripping onto the graveled walkway. "He attacked me!" Bashir screamed, breathing hard, his heart still pounding. "He was going to kill me!" He didn't notice the glances being exchanged as he continued his tirade, all while Garak stood motionless. "He was warned to stay away from me--what was I supposed to do when he suddenly grabbed me like that? Can't I at least defend myself?" One of the security guards tried to lead him back to the bench but Bashir pushed him away. "I want him kept away from me! Do you understand? I'll kill him if he comes near me again!" Footsteps could be heard along the gravel path, and suddenly Odo and two other security officers came into view, followed by Counselor Troi. Bashir turned and, with eyes blazing, started to recount his story to them too, Garak remaining motionless and stunned. "We need to get Mister Garak to Sickbay," Troi broke in. "Odo, Doctor, will you join us, please?" She nodded to the security team, who led Garak down the corridor first, Bashir and Odo following, Bashir continuing periodically to rant to Odo as Troi trailed along behind. The young worker in the hydroponics bay, who had witnessed the exchange between Garak and Bashir, had unobtrusively joined the little group and was now telling Troi his version of the events; the counselor wore a worried frown but said nothing. --- When Picard came into the Sickbay, Dr. Crusher was at the nearest biobed with Odo standing solemnly behind her, just out of the way of the medics who assisted her; the Cardassian sat upon the biobed, one hand extended so that she could repair the deep gash which cut down the length of his palm. Muddy red blood stained his sleeve and the front of his tunic. This was not what Picard had expected to find. "Where is he?" he demanded. "I put Dr. Bashir in my office," Crusher replied. "Troi is with him." "Is he injured?" "No," she answered with a significant pause. "He's not hurt." Picard glanced at the blood-spattered Cardassian. "*He* did this?" At the question, Garak lifted his gaze from his injured hand and stared at Picard with a wild look of amazement that chilled the captain through. He stepped quickly away from the biobed and went into Dr. Crusher's office. A security guard stood just inside the door; Bashir was seated in the desk chair and Troi stood over him, trying to speak soothingly while the young man's voice rose with agitation. As Picard came in, he looked up and said, "You promised me I would be safe, sir! And he came right up and attacked me!" "Calm down, Doctor," Picard addressed Bashir sternly. "Now, I want to hear your side of this. Can you tell me exactly what happened? When did Garak attack you?" Bashir took several deep breaths and clenched his hands in his lap, but it seemed that his whole, slender frame was trembling as he went on. "I was asleep in the hydroponics bay, and *he*--Garak--came in. I don't know if he'd been waiting there for me, or if he followed me in, but he was *there*, Captain, standing over me and demanding that we talk. I refused. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want anything to do with him, only to get away. And that's when he assaulted me." "And then you stabbed him?" "I had to, sir!" Bashir insisted. "You *know* what he would've done if he'd gotten his hands on me." "Yes..." Picard answered thoughtfully. "Doctor? Where did you get the knife?" "Knife?" "The knife you cut Mr. Garak with--where did it come from?" "I- I don't know. I must've picked it up somewhere. There are a lot of gardening tools around the bay--pruning knives, secateurs. I must have..." He was becoming confused, and more agitated. "I had no choice! It was an act of self- defense. Garak would have-!" "Yes, I know, I know." Picard spoke more gently now. "We'll see that you're kept safely away from him. He won't be able to threaten you again." He turned to address the guard at the door. "Escort Dr. Bashir to his quarters." Troi waited for the guard and Bashir to walk out of the office before she told Picard, "Captain, there were several witnesses to the incident. Mr. Garak was not threatening Bashir. He didn't assault him. In fact, everyone who saw them states quite clearly that Bashir struck first." Picard nodded; he wasn't surprised to hear this. "Counselor, I'm beginning to think that we have been focusing our concerns on the wrong one. Could Bashir actually be the more dangerous-?" The sound of a commotion outside drew them from the office. Garak was still sitting on the biobed, just as Picard had last seen him. He didn't look very threatening, but he must have said or done something, for Bashir was shrieking defiantly, "And I'll do it again if you dare to come near me! Just stay away!" He had torn free of his guard; Odo stepped between the two as if he meant to defend Garak from the doctor. "Get him out of here," Picard growled, then turned to Troi. "Go with him--keep an eye on him." She murmured "Yes, sir," and followed the guard as he hauled Bashir out of Sickbay. The Cardassian remained seated, hand still palm-up although the wound had been healed. He stared at the door Bashir had just gone out of in silent shock. --- Deanna had finally gotten Bashir to quiet down. After escorting him back to his quarters, she had dismissed the security guard --both Worf and Will Riker had expressed concern over her treating a patient so potentially violent, but she had no reason to believe that Bashir was a danger to her; after all, she was not Cardassian. For more than an hour, she had sat and watched while the young man paced the room like a caged animal, and listened as all the months of repressed rage came tumbling out in a nearly incoherent rush of words. When it was done, Bashir was exhausted. He was still afraid that Garak would break in while he was sleeping, but he was also weary enough to listen to Troi's reassurances that he would be safe, and agreed to try and rest. She had tucked him in almost as a mother would, dimmed the lights and taken a seat at the foot of the bed, talking quietly with him until he dropped off to sleep. Then she crept out of his rooms, and saw that a security guard was posted outside the door. Weary herself, she returned to her own quarters. The room where Troi normally held her counseling sessions was adjacent to her quarters, and considered part of them, but was not kept sealed. Her patients were free to enter even when she was not available. As she passed the door, she gave the indicator on the comm panel only a quick glance; she had canceled all of her regular appointments for today and had no reason to expect anyone to be waiting for her. She was surprised to see that someone *was* in. Curious, she reached out with her mind, but sensed no one nearby --and suddenly she knew who it must be. She went in. Garak was seated patiently on the couch, and Odo stood just behind him. "He wanted to talk to you," the shapeshifter informed her gruffly. Garak rose to give her a small bow, and added in more courteous tones, "I know it's late, Counselor Troi, but I would like to talk with you about Julian." Deanna still found it unnerving not to be able to sense the Cardassian's thoughts, and was even more disturbed by the things Bashir had just told her about his love affair with this man, but she suppressed her nervousness. She did want to help both of them, and the only way she was going to get inside Garak's head was by talking to him. "Yes, of course." "How is he?" Garak began. "He's resting now," she answered, "and I hope he'll be able to sleep through the night undisturbed. He was very upset today." "Yes, I know. Counselor, may I ask a favor? I'd like you to convey a message to him, since he refuses to listen to me." "What is it?" "Please, tell Julian how sorry I am. I realize that this is all my fault, and I can't begin to express how much I regret the harm I've caused him. Will you tell him?" "I'll tell him," she promised. "Will you also ask him if I can see him?" "I don't know if he'll permit it. Your presence is very distressing to him--seeing you right now could only exacerbate his fears. It could be dangerous for both of you." "I understand," the Cardassian answered. "Believe me, I have no wish to distress him any further, but nevertheless, I would like you to ask. There are certain things I must say to him that can't be relayed through a third party." Troi felt somewhat intimidated by the intensity in the bright blue eyes fixed so earnestly upon her, especially since she had no way to assess the emotions behind them. But Garak had been so well-behaved, so respectful and even polite, that she had to hope that he was sincere in his concern for Bashir's welfare. "I can't promise," she told him, "but I will ask." "Thank you, Counselor." He smiled slightly. "I will appreciate whatever you can do." --- After Odo and Garak had gone, Troi began to reconsider: an interview might be a good idea after all. If the two men could talk under strictly controlled circumstances, it might give Bashir the peace-of-mind he so desperately needed. She went to see Picard the first thing the next morning to obtain permission to arrange it. "Are you certain that's wise, Counselor?" the captain sounded doubtful. "It's an old therapeutic technique that has produced positive results in many cases," she explained. "The victim confronts his assailant." "I think we've had too many 'confrontations' between those two already," Picard said drily. "Frankly, I'm not worried only about the damage this could do to Dr. Bashir if it doesn't work, I'm also afraid of what he could do to the Cardassian if we give him another opportunity. He's made threats against Mr. Garak's life if he approaches him again." "I think it will work if I talk to Bashir beforehand, and Garak's presence doesn't come to him as a surprise," Troi argued. "If they meet, it should be in Bashir's quarters --a safe environment--and I'll be there throughout the session to serve as a mediator. I'll also ask Security Chief Odo to remain in the room with us and monitor the situation in case it gets out of control." She had supervised the captain's own therapy following his torture by Gul Madred, and she knew Picard's hostility and suspicion toward all things Cardassian; in spite of his professed worry for Garak's safety, she could sense it now. "I'm not suggesting that the two be reconciled," she reassured him. "As abusive as their relationship was, I don't feel it would be healthy for either of them to continue." She did not allude to Garak's being Cardassian; to her, that wasn't significant. "But Dr. Bashir needs to hear an apology from the person who's caused him so much pain before he can completely let go of his anger and move beyond it to begin the healing process. At least, it may stop him from trying to stab Mr. Garak every time he comes near him." Picard drew in his lips thoughtfully. After a few minutes of careful consideration, he said, "Very well. If Dr. Bashir consents to it, you may proceed." --- Bashir was reluctant at first, but when Troi broached the idea, one thing in particular seemed to impress him: "Did Garak really say that he was sorry?" "Yes, he did," Deanna assured him. "He sounded sincerely contrite." She could feel the emotional turmoil within her patient, his fear warring with curiosity and a strange eagerness--desire? Eagerness won. "All right," he decided. "I'll do it." Arrangements were made, and they met the next afternoon. Bashir was nervous; he was trying not to let it show, but Troi could see it even without sensing the tremors quavering through him like strings on a musical instrument wound too tightly. Garak sat down in the chair facing Bashir's--they were about two meters apart. "You had something you wanted to tell me?" Bashir inquired. "Yes," the Cardassian answered, "although I had hoped I would not have to say it in front of an audience." He cast an eye at the counselor, seated in a third chair unobtrusively out of the way, and then at Odo, who was observing from a position near the door. "These are the conditions you agreed to," Troi reminded him gently. "And I wouldn't have agreed to this any other way," Bashir added. "I'll talk to you, Garak, but I won't be alone with you. Besides, nothing you say will shock Counselor Troi after what she's already heard from me, and I'll bet we have no secrets from Odo either." "Very well," Garak conceded. He faced Bashir squarely, focusing only upon him and ignoring the others. "Julian, I want you to know how deeply sorry I am for everything that's happened. I was lost within my own pain for so long, I didn't think of the pain I was causing *you*. I took all my rage at the Maquis who captured us out on you. It was not until we were both summoned to Sisko's office that I came to my senses and realized that what I was doing to you was at least as bad as what had been done to both of us. I know there is nothing I can do to make up for the damage I've done, but I hope you will be able to forgive me." Julian's eyes grew large and dewy as he listened to this eloquent apology--Troi could feel his yearning to believe it--but he held himself back. "I hope I can too," he answered reservedly. "I- er- hope that when all this is over with, we can be friends again." "'Friends'?" Garak echoed. "Is that all I can expect?" "You don't have the right to expect anything," Bashir shot back. "You ought to consider yourself lucky I'm even seeing you now." "But I-" Garak hesitated, glanced at Troi, who was listening without interruption, then went on in a lowered voice, "I love you. You did once love me--only two days ago, you said so. 'Too much in love.' You indicated that this separation was just a temporary condition, while you sorted out the confusion in your mind." "That was before you kept bothering me," Julian answered. "I asked you to leave me alone, but you wouldn't. You pursued me, threatened me-" "I did not threaten you!" Garak protested. "You attacked me! I had to defend myself." "Gentlemen," Troi tried to restore order before the session degenerated into a shouting match. "These accusations serve no constructive purpose. You are trying to resolve your differences, not aggravate them." Bashir gave her a resentful glare, squirmed and settled back in his chair. Garak said, "Yes, Counselor, you're quite right." He began again, "Julian, I truly didn't mean to frighten you in the hydroponics garden. I merely wanted to talk." Julian was doubtful of this, but he didn't argue. "I may not deserve it," Garak went on, "but I would like to have our old relationship back again. Have I destroyed it completely?" Bashir shook his head. "When I said I loved you, I meant it," he spoke more quietly now. "I thought I did--I just don't know anymore. People who truly care for each other don't inflict this kind of pain. It's no good, Garak. Whatever we might have had before the Maquis got hold of us, it's been ruined. We can't go back, and I don't want it to go on." "I've missed you," Garak persisted. "Your company. Your conversation over dinner--you can't imagine what it's been like, being confined with no one to talk to but our laconic Constable." Behind Bashir, Odo *hmph'd!* "I hate that you are so far away from me. Since you've gone, I've regretted that we did not take better advantage of our last night together. I didn't realize that it would be the last." Troi felt the flash of anger before Bashir raised his eyes to Garak and said, "Is that what this is really all about? You think that if you apologize nicely, I'll forget everything you've done and get into bed with you?" "Julian, that isn't fair," said Deanna. "No. You don't know him the way I do. You think he's sincere, but he's an expert liar. He'll say anything to get what he wants." Bashir was on his feet; Odo was suddenly alert. "That's it, isn't it, Garak? You don't give a damn about what you did to me--it was only when I started to fight back that you became so concerned for my welfare! You don't care, as long as you have me where you want me." "Julian, I want you to sit down," Troi commanded. "I don't deny that I want you as my lover," said Garak. "Nothing would make me happier than if you agreed to come with me now, but this is not a ploy to lure you into bed. Julian, I *am* truly sorry." "Oh, you're very convincing, very persuasive, but it won't work this time," Bashir retorted. "I won't be 'had' that way again." "I don't know what more you want from me." Garak began to sound impatient. "I have apologized--I'm sorry if you don't believe me." He gave a little shrug, and left his chair to pace the clear space at the center of the room. "Both of you, please, sit down," Troi tried again. "I know you're angry--this is an extremely emotional issue--but if you can't calm down and discuss it reasonably, I will have to end this session." "Counselor, I assure you that that is what I'm trying to do." Garak turned to Bashir, who had stepped closer to him. "What can I do to convince you? Do you want me to beg? To suffer more of your abuse?" "*My* abuse!" Julian sputtered. "I have put up with your hostility because I've blamed myself for your mental state." "After what you've put me through, a *dozen* stab-wounds wouldn't make up for it. You haven't seen abuse-!" "Julian!" Troi shouted, but it was already too late. What happened next, happened so swiftly that even Odo did not have time to react: Julian swung his fists with an outraged cry, but as he flung himself forward, Garak caught him by the throat; he held Bashir there, choking, frozen in surprise, then flung him to the floor. The other hand had closed around Bashir's wrist--as he fell, Garak twisted his arm behind his back and forced him down, planting one knee between the doctor's legs and pinning the slender body with his own weight. "I have been as patient with you as I can be," Garak said in a voice so icy that it sent shivers through the stunned and horrified Troi, "but I can only endure so much." By this time, Odo had moved forward to take Garak by the arms to pull him off; Garak let go without further struggle. Bashir remained on the carpet, not daring to move. His eyes were shut, but he was trembling violently. As Odo dragged Garak out of the room, the Cardassian turned to Troi. "My apologies, Counselor," he said. "I really did hope that this would turn out better." --- The Enterprise arrived at Betazed the next day. Bashir had burst into hysterics when Troi tried to coax him up from the floor; her touch had sent him screaming into the nearest corner, his terror thrilling through her, disorienting her. It had been beyond her power to calm him down then, and she had to summon Dr. Crusher before he screamed his throat raw. Crusher had sedated the young doctor and taken him to Sickbay, where he spent the rest of the night under observation. He was still lightly sedated when Troi came in to escort him to the transporter. Deanna was extremely apologetic; after yesterday's fiasco, she knew that Bashir had every reason to be furious with her, but he showed no resentment. "You were only trying to help me," he told her, brushing aside her apologies and giving her a slight, ironic smile. "Everyone's just been trying to help." His quiet composure was eerie after all his rages. Part of it was the sedative, but Troi sensed a new calmness and resolution within him as well. The only emotion she sensed from him was surprise, when they entered the transporter room and he saw that Picard was there to see him off, but there was no sign of Garak or Odo. "Has Garak already beamed down?" he asked. "He's being kept in his quarters until after you've gone," the captain explained. "Alone?" "We've decided that it will be safer if your security chief accompanies Mr. Garak. I've spoken with the Director of Admissions, and he's asked that we beam you directly to the reception area for new patients. You won't be left unattended." "Would you like me to come with you?" Troi offered. As she lay a hand on Bashir's arm, he turned to her with a more warm and genuine smile. "No, Deanna, it's all right. I can behave myself. Thank you." Then he addressed Picard: "Thank you too, sir, for your generosity. I hope we can meet again one day under better circumstances." He offered his hand, and Picard took it. "I look forward to it, Doctor." After a moment's hesitation, Bashir gave Troi a hug and accepted a quick kiss on the cheek and "Good luck," from her, then stepped up onto the transporter platform. He set his baggage on the adjacent disk and, hands clasped behind his back, announced, "I'm ready to go." After Bashir had beamed down, Deanna said, "I hope he will be all right," without much conviction. So much had been left unsettled: Bashir was in no better mental state than he'd been in when he'd arrived--perhaps worse. Who knew what he might try to do to himself or to Garak during their therapy? "They'll take good care of him," Picard replied. "The Director, Dr. Suidis, will be there to receive him the moment he arrives. He won't be given an opportunity to get into trouble." A few minutes passed before they received a message from the hospital, telling them that Bashir had been escorted from the reception area to his quarters. Picard had Odo bring Garak in. When they entered the transporter room, it first appeared as if the Security Chief were simply holding his prisoner by the arm, but Troi soon realized that Odo had reshaped the appendage to form a cuff that completely encircled Garak's bicep. In spite of the brutal act she had seen this man commit yesterday, she was appalled by this restraint. "Dr. Bashir has already been sent down," Picard informed Odo. "You may escort Mr. Garak to Reception." Garak, ignoring the restraint with as much dignity as he could muster, turned slightly to address Troi, "Counselor, I wanted to thank you for your efforts. I am sorry that my session with Dr. Bashir didn't go as well as we'd hoped. It was entirely my fault--I hope you will forgive my behavior." "I'm not the one who has to forgive you," she replied. "But I wish I could have done more to help you both." "I'm certain you did your best. I'm afraid ours may be a hopeless case." "If you're quite ready," Picard said with cool impatience. "Of course." Having been snubbed, Garak snubbed in return, and bowed in farewell only to Troi. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, my dear Counselor." Odo brought the Cardassian up onto the platform. Picard gave the order to the Transporter Chief: "Energize." There was a shimmer, and then they were gone too. The captain sighed in relief. "Thank goodness that's over with!" *Over with for us,* thought Troi, with a strong sense of foreboding. *For them, this is only beginning...* --- End -- The Brotherhood Is Not by The Blood series