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Chapter Text

The first thought Garak has when he sees the boy is that he looks absolutely pathetic. He feels this inexplicable urge to hit him. There’s not even an impulse to yell nor does he feel particularly angry. He just feels this need to hit the sniffling thing as hard as possible, though he doesn’t know why. For a moment, his fists clench, and yet they feel like jelly and like they’ll never be able to hit the child hard enough to satisfy this strange urge that’s suddenly sprouted inside of him.  

Then Garak takes a deep breath, only mildly horrified at himself (he’s more horrified by his lack of horror than anything else), and turns to the computer he keeps in his shop. He doesn’t bother to ask the crying boy what’s wrong or to tell him to stop hiding underneath the table. He simply contacts Odo through the terminal and tries not to think too hard about the situation. He’s felt oddly disconnected from his own thoughts since he looked under the table and saw the child, and so he can’t even properly process why he felt such a terrible urge the moment he laid eyes on the little boy. The question just rolls about in his mind like a marble.  

“Odo here.”, Odo finally says through the computer’s speakers.

“Constable.” Garak surprises himself with how calm and friendly he sounds. “I’m afraid there’s a slight issue in my shop. You should come down as soon as possible.”

“What seems to be the problem?” He sounds just the slightest bit concerned and it must be because, as he himself realizes, Garak has never willingly called him for help with a security issue.

“There seems to be a child in my shop. He’s hiding under my table and either he managed to sneak inside without me noticing or he simply appeared out of thin air.”

Odo is silent for a moment, perhaps pondering if this is all some kind of joke. “I’ll be right there, Garak.” It seems he’s decided he’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Thank you, Constable.”, Garak replies and ends the transmission. He looks back toward the table and the boy is still hiding under it, shaking and struggling to stifle his sobs. His face has been hidden against his knees this whole time, but for a moment, he peeks his head up and those terribly familiar blue eyes meet Garak’s.

As he towers over the boy, Garak thinks that this must be the sight Tain saw countless times over the years.  

The thought makes him tense up and the boy hides his face the very moment he senses that change in mood. Garak suddenly feels ill, enough so that he makes his way to the trashcan he keeps in the corner and rests his arm against the wall, pressing his face against the arm as well. He shakes and stays like that for over a minute before he forces himself to take a deep breath. The nausea is gone by the time Odo enters the shop not a minute later.

———

“Well, I have to admit, Mr Garak. This is the last thing I ever expected from you.” Sisko sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. He’s been pacing around the same spot in front of where Garak is seated for at least 15 minutes now and Garak wonders if bringing up the mark he’s bound to make on the floor would be inappropriate.

“I assure you, Captain. I didn’t have anything to do with this.”, is what he says instead.

Odo scoffs from the nearby corner he’s decided to glare at the room from. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”  

“I don’t know, Constable.”, Garak replies, genuinely a bit offended. “Why do you think I’d sneak a Cardassian child aboard this station, only to reveal to the authorities that I’ve kidnapped him?”

“Well, you can’t expect us to believe he just magically appeared here. There aren’t any traces of a transporter being used. Are you suggesting…magic?” He sneers that last word.

“Are you suggesting this is the first time the station has experienced similar unexplainable phenomena?”

Odo just harrumphs at that and continues silently staring from the corner. His intimidating expression probably isn’t helping to soothe the boy Julian and Jabara are currently struggling to coax out from under the table. Jabara is scanning him with the tricorder to the best of her abilities and smiling at him whenever he peaks his head up (he hasn’t moved from his curled-up position whatsoever), and Julian is doing a surprisingly good job at speaking about nothing in particular gently and comfortingly. But it’s no use, of course, and unless Mila happens to walk in right now, Garak doubts the boy will be leaving his hiding spot anytime soon.

“You’re sure he didn’t just sneak in?”, Sisko asks, wearily, and puts his hands on his hips, head hanging low.  

“I’m sure.”, Garak replies and taps his finger against his thigh. He tries to focus on just that, not on anything else. How else is he to not think about this all too hard? Yes, he’s been pondering the logistics of how exactly this has happened as well, but he’s also been forcing himself to block out the tsunami of unpleasantness his mind has decided to try and unleash upon him at the sight of the child.  

“You’re sure?”, Sisko repeats, truly concerned. He must, of course, be wondering if Garak is simply too prideful to admit that a little boy has managed to sneak up on him, but one sharp look from Garak keeps him quiet.

Julian gets up from the ground, groaning quietly as he rubs his knees. “The boy isn’t coming out.”, he states, though without even a hint of irritation.

“Maybe we should just force him out.”, Odo says, but Julian glares at him for it. He’d sooner let Bajor’s sun burn out before resorting to that, and Garak and Odo know that for once, they’re in silent agreement through their mutual irritation at this. There’s always been that quiet understanding between them whenever it comes to Federaji. Proudly sentimental to the point of getting in their own way.

“Have you scanned the boy?”, Sisko asks.

“Well, Jabara is having some difficulties doing an in-depth scan since he keeps squirming out of the tricorder’s reach, but the basics are coming back all normal. He doesn’t seem to have anything obviously wrong with him.”

“He’s just a normal Cardassian boy?”

“From what I can tell, yes. Not that we have much of a point of reference.” He glances at Garak. “He’s certainly not some kind of hologram.”

“Then how did he just appear out of thin air?” Odo joins in.

Julian merely shrugs. “Until we can do an in-depth scan, there’s no way of knowing if there’s anything that sets him apart from other Cardassians.”, he adds.

Garak stands up. He’s had quite enough of all of this. If Julian needs the boy out of his hiding spot to fix this mess, then he’ll get just that. “Let me speak to him. Perhaps he’ll be more receptive to a fellow Cardassian.” Julian reaches his hand out and starts to speak, but Garak is already walking off towards the table. Nurse Jabara gives him an annoyed look as he approaches, but after a moment of glaring at him silently, she stands up and backs off. She doesn’t take her eyes off him, however, and he can’t say he’s all that upset by her mistrust of him, especially when the last time he tried to speak to a child, he got bit.

For a moment, Garak feels that same lurch in his stomach as he looks down at the boy, but he swallows and kneels before him, which helps enough to keep his voice steady as he speaks. “Boy.” He fights his discomfort upon saying that. He sounds far too old, far too much like Tain, perhaps. But then again, who else is he to imitate in this moment? Certainly not Mila, whose gentle fussing feels so unreachable and foreign to him, painted over by Tain’s simple, straightforward discipline. Trying to just speak whatever words come to him seems out of the question as well. “Come out. Now. There’s no point in crying.”

The boy lifts his head slightly and Garak shudders a bit upon seeing his eyes. They’re   dry now, but (and perhaps he’s just imagining it) they’re still intense in a way he can’t pinpoint, can’t even begin to describe past some sense of wrongness they instill in him. But he stands his ground and keeps his place, though he doesn’t know where or when exactly he’s been transported to now that he’s looking the boy in the eyes again. It’s not his shop, at least.

“Come out.”, Garak commands, simply, calmly, neutrally. He hopes he sounds enough like Tain when he would order him out of the closet as a child, because, as he realizes at this very moment, he can’t truly remember what Tain sounded like anymore past vague recollections. How ridiculous to forget the very thing that’s simultaneously haunting him right now. He puts his hand out.

It’s enough for the boy, apparently. He lifts his head up fully, revealing his entire face, and stares at Garak’s outstretched hand. He’s shaken by how much of his current features he recognizes in the boy’s face (as though that should be a surprise), but more so by what features have been warped by age, ones he’s forgotten he once possessed until now. The boy shakily takes Garak’s hand and lets him help him out of his hiding spot. Already, he’s forced his face into something more or less resembling calmness. Ah, yes. Garak does remember doing that quite often.

He helps him up and slowly lets go of his hand. The rest of the room stares and he hopes it’s all because of surprise and not because the boy resembles him enough to arouse suspicion. What reason would they have to suspect that at this point, though?  

Julian and Jabara are the first to step forward and they immediately start fussing over the boy. Jabara scans him with the tricorder and Julian kneels before him. “You’re finally out. How are you feeling?” The boy just stares blankly. Garak realizes the problem, but stays silent. “Do you not want to talk?”, Julian asks gently with a smile.

“I don’t think he can understand you, Doctor.”, Jabara says and looks up from the tricorder. “No universal translator.”

Julian blinks. “Oh, of course. Uhhh…”

Before he can stumble over what to do any more (or worse, ask Garak for help), Jabara hands him the tricorder and speaks. “What’s your name?” Garak can tell from the lack of that subtle tinny noise as she speaks (characteristic of the UT) and, of course, Jabara’s sudden Bajoran accent, that she’s speaking Cardassi herself.  

The boy blinks and swallows, but doesn’t respond. Smart choice. But then again, he’s likely more so paralyzed by fear and confusion than consciously knowing not to tell these strangers anything.

“Can you not speak?”, Jabara gently asks in Cardassi.

No response.

“Where are your parents?”

Still nothing.

She finally just sighs and turns to Julian. “Anything noteworthy about his readings?”, she asks him. He just shakes his head and frowns. “Nothing. Like I said, maybe if we do a more in-depth examination, we’ll find something, but the tricorder isn’t giving me any unusual readings. Maybe he just snuck up on you, Garak.”

“I doubt that.”, he mutters. He knows he must seem insane to everyone else, but he wonders if they would be so skeptical if it were anyone else saying this.

“Even if that’s true-“, Odo says, and looks down at a PADD in his hands. “-that doesn’t explain why the boy is on the station in the first place. The last Cardassian shuttle arrived three weeks ago and left the very same day.”

“He could be a stowaway.”, Sisko halfheartedly suggests.

“And have hidden on the station for nearly a month?”

Sisko sighs. Perhaps Julian should pull him aside and give him a hypospray for his inevitable headache.  

Garak nearly startles when something brushes against his hand. He looks down and sees the child staring up at him with some vaguely frightened expression. It looks more like an amateur mockup of what a scared boy should look like. His hand, trembling and unreasonably small, certainly betrays his fear, though, as it reaches for Garak’s. He very loosely takes it and looks back up and away from the boy.

———

“Garak-“

“Not now, Doctor.”

“I need to speak to you.”

Julian doesn’t sound angry, but he’s obviously in quite a hurry. It would certainly be a lot easier if the former were the case, however. Then Garak might have a chance of preparing for whatever is about to be said.

He looks over at the boy, currently sitting tensely and being thoroughly scanned on the biobed (Jabara is using some kind of tricorder he’s never even seen before) while Jadzia shows Sisko something on her PADD, wearing mutually confused expressions. The boy is simply making an effort (though not an all too remarkable one) to mask his discomfort.

“Very well, Doctor.” Garak sighs. “What is it?”

In lieu of answering, Julian leads him outside the room they’ve all huddled in, unknowingly marking the course for the incoming conversation in Garak’s mind. For a moment, he can think only of each and every physical similarity between himself and the boy. Like a computer, he overlays their faces and picks apart every subtle curve and fold that may incriminate them. And for just a moment too long, he’s certain they look exactly the same and he’s a fool for thinking he could hide the truth. Shameful. He’s above panicking.

“I’m quite certain you have much better things to do than speak to me privately, Doctor. I can think of a patient who could use your expertise at this very moment, actually.”, Garak says, pleasantly.

“Jabara can handle him right now.”, Julian replies. His expression and tone are rather guarded as he stares. “But he’s perfectly healthy. Our main concern is how exactly he got here. That’s why Jadzia is with him too.”  

“Of course. Though perhaps the constable’s theory will prove true, and we’ll find that he’s not some kind of supernatural being.”

“I think Odo has changed his mind on that already.”

They’re both silent for a long moment while Julian stares at Garak, perhaps waiting for him to blink first and say something. But, of course, this doesn’t happen. So, he just sighs and it seems he wisely gives up on moving Garak from this spot he’s lodged himself in like a boulder. “How do you know the boy?”, Julian asks, calmly.

“I don’t.”

“Alright then, you know about him.”

“Whatever gave you that idea, Doctor?”

Julian just stares petulantly and can’t say a thing. Garak would love nothing more than to encourage Julian’s suspicion (juts not of him), so he does feel a little bad about acting so clueless. Only a little bit. He smiles placatingly in a way he knows just frustrates Julian more.

“You know quite a lot about how to handle the boy.”, he comments, half-heartedly. It’s clear he’s already giving up on getting anything out of this conversation.

Garak is already turning to return to the private room. “I understand it can be quite difficult to handle alien children when you’re only used to human ones, but Cardassian children respond better to a firmer hand, I assure you.”

Julian gives him a sad look, but says nothing, and simply walks back inside with him.

The boy is still there, of course, couldn’t have possibly run off in the time he was gone, especially not with all these people surrounding him, but Garak is relived anyway.

———

Jadzia eventually declares the boy’s presence to be the result of some kind of wormhole anomaly. It sounds quite ridiculous to Garak, but he’s the only one who laughs sharply when she says that. Everyone else in the freezing (though only for Garak) conference room just stares at him silently for a moment.

She coughs awkwardly and shows them a graph indicating a sharp spike in the wormhole’s energy levels on a screen she set up, with a significant increase right around the time Garak first reported the boy’s presence in his shop.  

“How long after noticing the boy did you call Odo?”, she asks him directly.

“As soon as I noticed him.” Garak neglects to mention the minute he spent frozen upon seeing him. Jadzia just nods. She glances at Sisko and then at Kira, but her expression remains neutral.

“And you’re sure this all has something to do with the Cardassian boy’s appearance? It’s not some kind of coincidence?”, Kira asks, sincerely.

Jadzia flashes a small smile. “Well…it’d be quite a coincidence…”

“I know, but I mean do we have definitive proof that the boy’s appearance has to do with the wormhole?”

Jadzia’s smile drops at that and she shakes her head. “Not really.” She sighs. “He’s not some kind of…otherworldly being. Julian tells me he’s already performed any and all scans and exams he could think of, but there’s nothing strange about him.”

“Maybe he’s been transported here from Cardassia through the wormhole.”, Sisko adds.

“Well, what we do know is that it has something to do with Garak.” Kira looks over at him, rather accusingly, as if he had personally orchestrated all of this just to inconvenience everyone.

“It does?”, he asks. Even though Kira is the only one voicing this opinion, they must all believe it at least a little bit to have dragged him to this meeting, and without an explanation to boot.

Kira nods, still giving him that same, unkind look. “A Cardassian boy just happens to appear next to the only other member of his species on the station.” She shakes her head and chuckles quietly. “That can’t be a coincidence, right, Garak?” She says his name very pointedly, as though speaking it aloud were an insult.

“Well, Major, I’m afraid I’m not sure why your gods decided to send me this boy. Perhaps you should ask them. You’ll probably have better luck than me getting an answer.”

Kira scowls and Garak can’t seem to find any enjoyment in her displeasure at his amicable tone. Before she can respond, however, Sisko knocks on the table and sighs. “That’s enough.” And because he’s the one who said it, it is. They both bite their tongues and look back at the screen. “So, we don’t know how he got here or what he even is.”, Sisko mutters, rubbing his temple (it seems he didn’t get that hypospray after all).

Jadzia gives him a sympathetic look and smiles. “Well, the good news is that I don’t think he’s just some regular Cardassian boy. This isn’t the first time reports of beings appearing on or near Bajor have coincided with spikes in the wormhole’s energy levels.”

Odo frowns (more than he already is). “Why is that good news exactly?”

“Those beings always vanish when the energy levels drop. Remember that report of the group of women appearing in the Bajoran countryside a few months ago and vanishing only a few days later?”

“I’m not sure I want to place my faith in that if we have no way of knowing if the same rules apply, Dax.”, Sisko mumbles. “But until we can be sure of what’s going on, someone will have to take care of the boy.” Of all the people he has to turn to look at, it just has to be Garak. “Mr. Garak, I understand this is quite a favor to ask, however, would it be possible to place the boy under your care for the next few days?”

His hand twitches, as if controlled by another. “Oh, really, Captain-“

“We won’t just leave you alone with him without support. You’ll bring him to the infirmary once a day so we can continue monitoring his health, but he also needs someone who can keep him company and offer him some structure. You’ve had the most success in getting through to him out of all of us.”  

Garak pinches his thigh under the table. Perhaps he should have just kicked the pathetic brat out of his shop after all, let him find his own way home. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, if what Jadzia says is true.

He forces himself to smile. “Of course, Captain.”

So much for helping.

———

When Garak returns to his quarters, he finds the boy waiting for him with Julian. They’re both sitting on the couch while Julian struggles to start a conversation about this and that insipid topic he’s deemed appropriate for a child. The boy just presses his knees to his chin and stares ahead, straight at Garak.

“I’m glad to see at least  someone isn’t eager to leave this child at my doorstep without hesitation. Everyone else seems to think I’ve changed careers and become a nanny.”

Julian looks and smiles at him apologetically. “I know this situation isn’t ideal, Garak, but I’m not sure who else is fit for the job. Keiko said she’d love to help and we even tried to introduce her to…” Julian looks at the boy and trails off awkwardly. “To him. But he’s not been very responsive.”

“Im sure the chief isn’t shedding any tears about that.” Garak scoffs, avoiding eye contact with the boy. “ One cardassian mutt living in his home was quite enough for him.”

Julian frowns at him. Garak tries to ignore how his heart aches a bit at that. Then the doctor gets up and starts packing up some PADDs he brought in a small bag. The boy’s eyes follow him.

“We won’t just leave you alone with the boy either.”, Julian reluctantly continues. “I’ll come by every day to check on him and we’ll also need to discuss how you plan to care for him. We should keep trying to introduce him to Keiko and maybe some other kids his age. He seems to be about…9 to 12 years old.” He glances at him as though he’ll confirm, but he remains silent.

“And his sleeping arrangements?”

“I took the liberty of replicating a futon for him and put it in your bedroom. I also left a list of replicator codes for toys. Do Cardassian children play with toys?”

This one doesn’t . “Generally, yes. Although he may a bit old for them.”, Garak replies.

“Regardless…” Julian sighs and picks up the now packed bag. He steps closer to Garak. “We have to try to get through to him. I’m sure he’s just frightened of us and this new environment, but I’m worried about him not talking. Maybe speaking to a member of his own species will help him.” He puts a hand on Garak’s shoulder, wearing a warm smile. “I have the utmost faith in you.”

“I can’t for the life of me understand why.”, Garak mumbles.

Julian just kisses him on his cheek. “I’ll be back tonight with a more detailed care plan. For now, please try to talk to him, maybe give him something to eat and introduce him to your quarters, okay?”

Garak nods coldly and focuses on Julian’s hand slowly leaving his shoulder, as if he might be able to will it to stay longer. Then he’s out the door, leaving him alone with the boy. For a long while, he can’t do much but stare at him, though the boy has stopped looking at him, instead pressing his entire face against his knees.

“Elim”, Garak hears himself say, though the words come from some part of himself he can’t quite recognize, partially separate from him.

Elim looks up, and for the first time, Garak sees something other than fear in those eyes. That’s a sight he knows Tain never got to witness.

Chapter Text

It’s surprisingly easy to ease Elim’s fears about his situation. He seems ready to accept just about any explanation the moment Garak tells him he’s with the Obsidian Order. Not to mention he’s immediately cooperative. But truth be told, he’d expected more resistance, more skepticism.

“I work with your uncle Enabran.”, Garak says, matter-of-factly, hands behind his back. Elim stands before him and does a poor job of concealing his anxiety.

“You do?”, he responds, earnestly.

“Yes. I’m a distant relative of yours, actually. On your mother’s side, of course. I understand this all must be quite confusing for you, Elim.” He does his best to smile. “This outpost is being used as temporary housing for a rather large Federation delegation. You were brought here because there was a security breach at Tain’s residence and he thought it best to send you here for the time being.”

Elim blinks at that. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“You were sent via experimental transporter technology we’ve yet to perfect. It’s been known to cause memory issues. What’s the last thing you remember?”

He looks down at his feet nervously and struggles to respond. It occurs to Garak he must fear he’s being interrogated and any wrong answer will lead to punishment. Even a child knows to fear the Order, after all, and Garak’s curt way of speaking surely isn’t helping. “Going to b-bed, sir.”, Elim stammers.

Garak’s finger twitches. A twinge of unease. He speaks more softly. “Thank you, Elim. You’ll be staying in my quarters for the foreseeable future.”

Elim’s head shoots up and his stammering worsens. “Are you sure, s-sir? I can…”

Garak does his best to smile. “It’s no issue, Elim. Doctor Bashir has already arranged a place for you to sleep.” His tone leaves no room for further discussion. But part of him still waits for Elim to say something else, to ask about the painfully obvious inconsistencies in his story, about the numerous tests performed on him in the infirmary or about why he woke up in a clothing shop. Instead he just nods and keeps looking down. Garak finds himself strangely disappointed. Shouldn’t he be more skeptical at this age?

“How old are you, Elim?”, Garak asks.

“Eleven, sir.”

Garak nods. “You’ve yet to reach the age of emergence then.”, he mutters to himself. Elim continues staring fearfully. Garak stares right back. Now that he’s face to face with him again, he can’t help but ponder how young he really looks. He’s not sure why that surprises him. An eleven year old boy is hardly a grown man. Of course he doesn’t have fully developed ridges yet, and of course his eyes are big and his cheeks soft. But the image before him, this frightened, tiny thing, is completely incongruous with what Garak remembers about himself at this age. He’s not sure why it annoys him so much.

Garak sighs. “Come with me. I’ll show you around my quarters.” He pauses. “Our quarters.”

Elim follows obediently and silently, letting Garak show him the refresher and the bedroom. He refrains from even mentioning the small storage closet filled with tailoring supplies.

“You’ll be sleeping here on the futon.” He gestures to it on the floor, right next to the bed. “If you need anything, tell me and I’ll provide it. Are you hungry?”

Elim’s feet shift nervously. “…a little bit.” He says it quietly, as though it were some terrible secret.

Garak nods. “I’ll replicate some food for you. Wait at the table, please.” He pauses. “Doctor Bashir will be back in a few hours. I’ll replicate you some food now and we’ll have dinner with him then.”

Elim nods and says nothing as Garak leaves the room. He wishes he would though. Anything to wake him up from this haze he’s in. Anything at all.

———

By the time Julian arrives to further discuss how to care for Elim, Garak is sure he’s about to implode. The sight of this boy in his quarters -whether it be because he’s always struggled to know how to act around children, or because of who this particular child is- feels unnatural and wrong. He finds himself looking at Elim and feeling irritated for no clear reason beyond the fact that he’s breathing too loudly or his posture isn’t right or some other nothing of a reason. It frightens Garak enough to easily justify staying away from him until dinner time.

“You really didn’t have to do all of this.”, Julian says the moment he realizes the table has been set up for dinner. Elim is sitting there quietly, and Julian’s presence makes Garak feel a little more certain that he won’t snap.

“Nonsense. We were going to eat anyway. Now why don’t you sit down and tell me what you’d like to eat.”, Garak replies.

“Whatever you’re having, Eli-“

“I’ll replicate our food.”, Garak hurriedly interrupts.

Julian sits down next to Elim, smiling at him and seemingly not minding how he doesn’t even look up to meet his gaze (the sight briefly makes Garak grind his teeth).

Garak sits opposite of them once he’s brought in their meals, bowls of Rokat soup. Julian doesn’t seem to recognize it, Garak can tell, but he refrains from asking about it. Elim’s eyes, however, light up and he starts slowly eating, clearly trying to savor each bite. When Garak tries some, he’s almost sure he can smell the familiar scent of Mila’s kitchen.

“Well, thank you for the meal, Garak. I mean, it wasn’t necessary, but…well, how have you been getting along with…” Julian pauses and looks at Elim, then back at Garak. “What is his name, actually? Has he told you?”

Garak plasters on a small smile. “He’s been alright. I’ve gotten him to speak to me, but he’s evidently quite shy around others. His name is Sleg.” Elim looks up at Garak the moment that nickname is said, eyes wide.

“Sleg.”, Julian echoes. Elim looks over at him as well when he says that. He may not be able to understand Federation Standard, but he can recognize that name. The wide eyed look doesn’t disappear and it makes Julian frown. That familiar irritation rises in Garak once more, some hissing little thing inside of him writhing in humiliation at this behavior. He knows it’s ridiculous.

“He’s certainly very nervous. Poor boy.” Julian reaches out to rub Elim’s arm, then stops himself. “Maybe we can get him to come out of his shell a bit more. That’s what I’ve been discussing with Keiko for the last few hours.” He pulls out the PADD he’s brought and put under his chair, handing it to Garak. “It’s just the details of the care plane we came up with. I was going to come up with it myself, but Keiko has been such a help. She’s a teacher, after all. She really knows children.”

“Even Cardassian children?”, Garak mumbles. He frowns skimming over some of the things listed on the PADD.

“I suppose we’ll see.”, Julian replies. He eats more of the soup before continuing. “It’s all written there so you don’t forget, but it’s nothing too complicated. Keiko and I will visit your quarters once a day just to make sure everything’s in order here.” All Garak can hear in that sentence is the possibility that he might hurt Elim. “You’ll also need to bring Sleg out every day unless there’s some reason not to, like sickness. Bringing him along to your shop will be fine.”

Garak looks up from the PADD, but before he can say anything, Julian raises a hand. “If he causes trouble in your shop, that’s okay. But you’ll still have to bring him out for walks on the promenade or maybe trips to the holosuite. Being cooped all day isn’t good for a child, you know.”

“Of course.”, Garak replies, tersely.

“But I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” Julian looks down at Elim again. “He seems like such a polite boy, aren’t you, Sleg?” Elim doesn’t respond past glancing up when his nickname is said, and so Julian just chuckles awkwardly and continues. “Sleg will also need regular check-ups too.”

“Well, I hardly think he’s in danger of keeling over anytime soon. I thought you said he was perfectly healthy.”

“Yes, but in this case…” He gestures vaguely with his spoon. “We just need to make sure everything is alright with him.”

“Make sure he’s…” Garak stops himself. He’s forgetting that although Elim can’t understand Julian, he can certainly understand him. Him not hearing him question if he’s even a real person would be a good thing. “Alright. I’ll bring him in.”

“If you’re too busy, I can come pick him up from your quarters-“

“No, it’s alright, Doctor. I’ll bring him myself. Besides, if he can’t even understand you, how will you bring him to the infirmary?”

“…I suppose you’re right.”

They fall into a silence and Garak curses how unbearably frustrating and confusing he knows he’s being. He must seem suspicious acting this protective (possessive?) over a child he’s just met. And truthfully, Garak can’t even understand what he feels for Elim or this situation himself. Really, he’d like nothing more than to have the boy out of his hair and yet the moment Julian suggests taking over in even a single aspect of caring for him, he shuts it down, can’t let anyone spend any time alone with this child. He can’t say what he fears will happen when Elim has to be around others. Surely not that their secret will be revealed?

Finally, Julian clears his throat awkwardly. “I almost forgot. Um, I brought Sleg something.” He reaches into his pocket, nearly invisible with how dark the fabric is, and pulls out a small plush bear. It’s a soft, purple thing, wearing a bright smile and fitting right in Julian’s hand. Garak wonders, not for the first time, how those starfleet uniforms manage to conceal pockets that big. Julian turns to Elim and makes a soft sound to get his attention. The curiosity in his face is as clear as can be to Julian and so he places the bear in his careful hands with a wide smile. “I wasn’t sure if he’d like it.” He’s speaking to Garak now, but keeps his eyes on Elim. “You did say he might be too old for toys, but I wanted to bring one anyway, just in case.”

Elim seems mesmerized by the bear. He holds it so gently, so carefully, it’s as though he isn’t sure how to hold a toy at all.

“I think he likes it.” Julian, impossibly, smiles even wider. He either doesn’t notice Garak’s frown when he turns to look at him again, or he’s too lost in his own satisfaction to care. “Garak, can you ask him what he wants to call it?”, he asks, eagerly, like a child himself.

“I’m not sure he-“

“Oh, wait, I think I…” Julian trails off. After a moment of thinking, he taps the bear gently and Elim looks up at him. “Name?” His pronunciation makes Garak cringe and he wonders why he even bothered to teach Julian any Cardassi in the first place when he’d just end up butchering it. But Elim’s eyes widen in what can only be described as amazement. After a moment, he responds quietly. “Mila…” He even manages a smile. It disappears the moment he looks over at Garak and notices his glare.

Hearing her name spoken aloud, no, spoken around Julian, crosses a line Garak didn’t even know existed until now. And yet he doesn’t let himself even imagine what he should do about this, both because this inappropriate anger is so great, so overwhelming, it paradoxically makes him feel impotent, and because the moment he even tries to imagine scolding the boy for this, he can only see himself beating him senseless. He struggles to desperately block that image from his mind.

And this brief flash of inexplicable fury is gone as soon as it came when Julian says his name and Garak looks over to see his own disapproving look. “Garak. Can I speak to you for a moment?”

Garak nods and tries desperately to not sound too angry as he tells Elim to wait at the table. Already he feels like more of a child than Elim as Julian leads him away to the ‘fresher.

“You’re uncomfortable with him.” Julian doesn’t even give Garak a moment to gather himself.

“I am not uncomfortable with Sleg, Doctor.”, Garak quietly hisses back.

Julian sighs. “Garak-“

“This is completely unnecessary and ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you acting like…like-“

“Like what?”

“Like you’re holding a grudge against him.”

Garak can hardly stop the words from leaving his lips, though he regrets speaking them immediately. “Surely this hasn’t anything to do with your silly idea that I already know him, does it?”, he laughs.

“I think…” Julian stops and takes a breath. “I think you might not be telling me everything.” Garak clicks his tongue angrily and Julian hurriedly continues before he can reply. “And if you don’t want to, then…i suppose I can’t blame you. But I do expect you to treat Sleg fairly.”

Garak scoffs at what Julian is insinuating, yet finds he can’t even deny it to himself.

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about, but if he’s going to be in your care, I sincerely hope not every interaction you have with him will look like…” Julian makes a face. “…that. If you can’t handle caring for a child, that’s fine. I know you didn’t ask to be his caretaker, even if it’s only for a little while. If you think you’re not fit to-“

“Doctor, I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of caring for Sleg. I simply… Well, as you said, I’m simply a bit frustrated and tired tonight.”

Julian stares at him for a moment, then sighs. “Alright…I know it’s been a long day. Just…

Garak nods before he can say anything else and lets Julian press their palms together. The gesture is hesitant and slow, both because Garak still can’t quite wrap his head around showing affection so openly with anyone, and because Julian has only recently learned what this means for Cardassians.

Garak sees Elim peeking at them from around the doorway, but elects to say nothing. Besides, he’s snuck off to his room once he and Julian return to the table to clean up. Julian advises him to just leave him be, and he agrees.

By the time they’ve cleaned up and Julian has left, Garak heads to bed, realizing all at once just how exhausted he is. When he enters the bedroom, he finds Elim, already in his futon, clinging to Mila.

———

Elim doesn’t question why he’s brought to the shop the next day, nor why he’s asked to sit still and entertain himself in the corner while Garak works.

Julian’s words run through his mind with every stitch and cut. He wishes that would immediately cure him of this strange revulsion towards Elim, that he’d hold him, soothe him and explain everything. But that doesn’t happen, and the fact that he even wishes for something like that just confuses and disgusts him more. He knows he can’t afford to have Julian see him being so cold towards Elim again. Not after last night. And yet knowing he’s on thin ice isn’t enough to make Garak let up.

Looking over and seeing Elim holding the teddy bear, tears in his eyes, is what seems to do the trick.

“Elim.”

He awkwardly tries to both look at Garak and keep his eyes down to hide the tears. “Yes, sir?”

“Come here, please.”

Elim walks over, looking down, as though he were walking towards the gallows. Garak wants to think that comes as a shock, but he knows this fear is deserved. He thinks he sees things a bit more clearly than yesterday. Perhaps he really did just need some rest.

“Would you like to help me with my work?”, Garak asks after a moment.

Elim briefly looks up, then back down. “Help?”

“Yes. I could use an assistant.” He keeps his eyes down at the dress he’s working on. “And besides, it would hardly do for you to spend the day sulking in a corner. Now why don’t you grab the fabric scissors for me? They’re in that drawer there.”

Elim hesitates, then rushes to bring the scissors over. His hands tremble a bit as he hands them to Garak.

They work in relative silence. Garak doesn’t give Elim much to do past having him bring him supplies and tools, and he can’t quite figure out what to say to him. Worse, he’s too afraid to even try. It’s ridiculous, he knows. Elim seems content enough to work as an assistant after yesterday’s events. Anything is better than being ignored, Garak supposes. After a long hour of conversation consisting of nothing but commands and quiet “thank you”s, Elim, sitting on the edge of the work bench and watching Garak sew, eventually speaks up.

“Will I see the doctor again?”, he asks, fiddling with a loose thread on his teddy bear.

Garak blinks, but his eyes remain fixed on the dress as he concentrates on the task. “Doctor Bashir, you mean?” It occurs to him that he never technically introduced them properly.

Elim nods, eyes on his bear. “I didn’t um…say thank you for the gift.”

“You’ll be seeing him later today for an examination.”

“Am I sick?"

Garak starts regretting how he ignored Elim yesterday more and more. "No. The transporter we used to bring you here is known to have some unpleasant side effects. We simply need to monitor you in case that happens."

Elim makes a face and Garak once again curses himself. "It"s very rare.", he adds. "And even if you did get sick, Doctor Bashir would be able to cure you. He's quite talented."

They're silent for a bit again. When Garak glances at Elim's face, he sees him staring at him with a blank expression. He's hiding what he's feeling, he realizes, or rather it's the first time he's truly managed such a thing. Garak remembers the endless lessons on hiding one's emotions included in his schooling even before Bamarren, a lesson drilled into him not only in school, but at home with Tain. And yet, only now that Elim is managing to apply those lessons, does it dawn on Garak how poor of a job he's been doing up until now. He remembers spending what must have been hours in front of a mirror trying not to cry at the thought of being locked in the closet, of being struck, of being caught misbehaving. From what he remembers, he always managed it somehow. Was that just a figment of his imagination then? Perhaps he just misremembered.

"Mr. Garak?"

"Yes, Elim?"

"Is Doctor Bashir your mate?"

This time, Garak keeps his eyes on the dress quite deliberately.

"Why would you think such a thing?"

Elim hesitates, and when he then responds, he sounds on the verge of stopping at any moment. "I saw you both pressing your palms together last night."

Of course he did. Just another thing Garak forgot about. "Yes…", he mutters. "I suppose we are." How is he to explain the complexities of this strange…something going on between them, when he can barely explain it to himself? And why must Elim even ask him about this? Well, they are the same person. Perhaps some sort of interest in Julian is inevitable, even if for Elim it has more to do with admiring him for gifting him a toy.

"Is that…?" Elim stops himself, seemingly embarrassed by what he's about to ask. Of course, this just makes Garak more curious. He looks up at Elim and watches him fidget for a moment.

"What?", Garak asks, gently. "Go on."

"Is he…your enjoined?"

"My enjoined?"

"Well, I heard…" He pauses, perhaps realizing just what he's really saying. "I heard when you're in the Obsidian Order, you can do whatever you want."

Garak almost wants to laugh at that. Such a foolish question. Such a foolish question from him. "I'm afraid not, Elim.", he replies. What a thought that is, enjoining with Julian, especially coming from someone who knows nothing but strict Cardassian xenophobia. It's a thought he refuses to ponder. At all. Such an improper thing it is to think about that with a man he can hardly press palms with.

Elim seems to accept the ongoing silence Garak now demands and they keep working.

———

After a brief examination in the infirmary, one where Julian insists on talking to Elim throughout the whole procedure, which (rather infuriatingly) seems to soothe him, Garak is told to bring the boy to the O'Brien's quarters. Garak, of course, immediately protests this.

"Keiko wants to introduce Sleg to Molly. It'd be nice to have someone for him to spend time with." Julian turns off his tricorder and smiles at Elim, giving him a thumbs up. Elim just stares in confusion at that gesture.

"Shouldn't he be with someone his own age?", Garak huffs.

Julian puts his tricorder away and faces Garak. "Well, considering he can't speak the same language as any child his age, Keiko thinks something simple might be best for now. We wouldn't want to overwhelm him." He smiles. "Besides, Molly is already quite excited to meet him."

Garak grumbles. Julian is, as always, right about this. Still, Garak feels a sort of second hand indignation at Elim being reduced to the level of a 6 year old. And he knows that if he would let Julian expand on this, explain this and that aspect of child psychology and the principles of pedagogy, he would surely be even further convinced. But that would mean admitting defeat. And based on the look in Julian's eyes, Garak thinks he might understand this all perfectly.

Elim seems just as unsure about this whole thing when Garak explains it on the way to the O'Brien's quarters.

"Mrs. O'Brien has invited you to meet her daughter."

"Her daughter?" Elim is apparently used to not being told much of anything enough to not even ask who Mrs. O'Brien is.

Garak chuckles. "It's nothing like what you're thinking. Dr Bashir thinks you should meet someone to spend some time with. Someone who isn't 40 years your senior."

Elim seems perplexed. "So he wants me to make friends?"

"Yes. I'm sure you'll get along fine with Molly. She's quite amicable." He pauses. "For a 6 year old."

Elim gives him a rather hapless look, but says nothing.

If Garak finds him being forced to play with a far younger child rather ridiculous, Elim finds it outright insulting. He doesn't say as much in words, of course. His outrage is expressed solely through his rather churlish expression as he walks silently. Expressing any discomfort with what he's being directed to do by an agent of the Obsidian Order is beyond him. Garak only wishes he could find a way to ease his discomfort without revealing the truth. But then again, if that happened, who knows what Elim might do.

When they make it to the O'Brien's quarters in the upper habitat levels, Keiko is the one to open the door for them, smiling brightly. "Garak!", she exclaims. Garak smiles back sincerely. He's quite glad Keiko is the one to be working so closely with Elim (and Julian too, of course), and from what he can see, Chief O'Brien is nowhere to be seen. All the better. She looks down at Elim and somehow, she grins even wider, her voice all cheery and sing song.

"And here's Sleg. How are you?"

Elim blinks awkwardly, though Keiko doesn't seem to mind at all.

"Have you told him everything?", she asks Garak.

He scoffs playfully. "Of course. Though, I'm not sure he's all that happy about it."

"Well, we'll see how it goes. Molly is quite excited about their play date."

He decides not to express his distaste with that term. She leads them into her quarters and they see the little area Keiko has set up in the living room with a small dollhouse, some toys and some art supplies. Molly is sitting in the center of this little area and jumps us when she sees the pair, immediately running over to Garak with a smile.

"Hi, Mr. Garak!", she squeals, hopping up and down in place.

"Hello, dear." He can't help but smile at her joy. He wasn't lying about her to Elim. The handful of times he's met her, either when she's tagged along with Keiko to his shop or when he's come by to her quarters to see her and chat with her mother, she's been so unbelievably happy to talk to him, that it made him a bit uneasy at first. What hardly speaking to a child in years has done to him, he supposes.

"Molly, this is Sleg." Keiko puts a gentle hand on Elim's shoulder, glancing down at him. "He's a friend of Garak's and he's here to play with you a bit."

Molly looks up at Elim curiously. Elim stares right back uncomfortably. After a moment, she smiles once again. "Hi, Sleg!" It takes quite a few awkward moments of silence for her to frown. She turns to Keiko.

"Does he not talk?", she asks.

Keiko laughs quietly. "He doesn't have a universal translator, Molly. He only speaks Cardassi."

"Oh."

"But maybe you can still play together?"

After a moment, she smiles again and nods. She hurriedly grabs Elim's hand, going on about what seems to be an elaborate story she's built around her dolls, and leading him to the play area. Elim looks back and gives Garak a rather helpless look, and despite feeling just as he does, he simply forces himself to smile.

"Are you certain this will help?", he quietly asks Keiko, not taking his eyes off the pair (Molly now seems to be pressing a plastic looking doll into Elim's hand and teaching him its name).

Keiko smiles and leads him away to the dining table near the corner of the room. "They'll be alright, Garak. I think you're taking this too seriously."

"What makes you say that." He sits down and watches her walk to the replicator.

"Well, you looked like you were experiencing some sense of apocalyptic doom watching Molly play with Sleg.", she chuckles.

"Certainly not", he mumbles. He hears Molly giggle rather loudly and stops himself from glancing over and proving Keiko right. Either way, she gives him an amused look. Not for the first time, he wonders how Chief O'Brien managed to marry a woman like her and, more bafflingly, why she willingly stays with him. Perhaps this is why he enjoys her company so much. A charming, intelligent woman married to some dim little man is about as Cardassian as things can get on a Federation space station.

"Two mugs of rokassa juice.", she speaks to the replicator, and once the mugs materialize, she brings them over.

"No tea?", he asks and grabs his mug.

"I guess your tastes have grown on me."

Garak laughs into his mug. All is silent for a moment, save for, of course, the sounds of Molly laughing quietly. She's saying something to Elim, but Garak simply can't make it out from here. He wonders why he can't hear what Elim is saying, or if he's saying anything at all.

"Well, I'm glad you brought Sleg over to meet Molly.", Keiko comments.

Garak just scoffs, despite her sincerity. "I didn't have much of a choice, did I? You know, I feel like nobody wants to speak to me about anything but Sleg."

She laughs. "That's how it works when you're…a caretaker of a child. Everything has to be about them."

"Surely it's not usually at this level."

"Maybe not, but well…these aren't usual circumstances." She pauses. "But really, how have things been with Sleg? I don't suppose you've really explained everything to him."

If only she knew how true that is. "Of course not. I'm not sure he quite believes me, but…well as far as he knows, he's just been in some transporter accident and that's why he has no memory of…" He gestures vaguely around him. "…all of this." He's a bit surprised by how relieving it is to reveal even this half truth.

She nods. "He really isn't asking any questions?"

"Cardassian children…Well, they aren't as keen to ask questions of any kind."

"I see." Keiko gives him a sort of concerned look he quite dislikes. "He's very quiet. You're sure it's normal?"

"Yes, of course.", he mutters. "Besides, I'm not sure how confident he can be in this situation."

She opens her mouth to respond, then looks behind him and smiles. "Well, he seems to be doing a bit better already." She gestures behind him and he turns to look. In the little play area, Molly is laughing and playing with her dolls in the dollhouse. Elim awkwardly but happily follows along, clumsily moving the dolls in the house. He's clearly struggling with the language barrier, not to mention the age difference, but he seems to be managing well enough despite this. For the first time in the last two days, he's actually smiling. Only now does Garak notice that absence and how empty it makes him feel.

Chapter Text

There's the matter of the closet.

It's always been there, of course, but never before has Garak been so aware of its presence than in the past few days, both the one in his quarters and that idea of the closet that lives in his mind (in his very soul, should such a thing exist). He's reminded of his discussion with Julian on Plato a few months back. He'd been rather skeptical of the concept of platonic ideals, but he thinks he's starting to understand as he stares at the closet in his bedroom. This closet isn't the one from his childhood that lives in his mind, and neither is the actual one back in Tain's residence. Those last few times he visited that old house before his exile, he had been struck by how banal it really was. The walls were not pitch black and giant like he remembers, nor was the door as solid and impenetrable as it was when he was a child. The closet he fears, he had concluded, no longer exists, or perhaps it never existed at all, not even when he was locked inside of it. And yet the moment he got too close to this closet, his heart had skipped a beat and his mouth became dry as though he were still a boy. The realization that he was paralyzed by a mere phantasm, an idea of something rather than that something itself, was humiliating.

Elim seems to not have had this realization, of course. He subtly avoids the closet. It's not as if he has a reason to go there, but there's a very clear deliberateness in how he looks down when he passes it in Garak's room, even keeps his eyes closed around it at times. Garak knows the correct thing to do (the Federation-like thing, that is) would be to address this. He can imagine Julian recommending such a thing with those worried eyes of his. It sounds like a phobia, he'd say, I think the best thing would be to discuss this with him straight away to gauge the severity of it. He'd make it sound so easy. And when Garak would laugh at the absurdity of such a thing, as if this (this everything that's lived with Garak his entire life) could be so easily spoken aloud, Julian would direct his worried look toward him instead.

So they don't talk about the closet. In fact, they don't talk much at all. Despite Elim slowly beginning to relax around Garak in the last week, he never allows himself to cross that line into true comfort. He can't say he's surprised, but seeing Elim start to smile around Julian at his check-ups, to anticipate spending time with Molly and to shyly greet the residents of the station, all while seemingly remaining frozen when it comes to their relationship bothers him more than he'd care to admit. He lies in bed each night and replays the interactions Elim had with others that day, analyzing his progress. And every night, some childish and shrieking part of him can only conclude that he's just as bad as Tain. He's certain that's not actually true, though, or at least he is until he turns to his side in his restless state and his eyes fall upon the closet once more.

He's starting to think even Elim doesn't think about that damned thing as much as he does.

Julian pulls him aside after another check-up and at first, Garak even thinks if he's going to bring it up. He's has been expressing an odd avoidance of the infirmary's storage closet, or worse, he's been expressing an avoidance of you.

"How are things with Sleg?", Julian asks.

"I'm not sure, Doctor. Aren't you meant to tell me that?"

He rolls his eyes with a smile he fails to hide. "He's in perfectly fine physical health. What I want to know is if there's been any changes at home. Keiko tells me he's quite friendly with Molly, but you're the one who lives with him."

"He's quite well behaved, yes."

"Well, good behavior isn't always indicative of good mental health. Does he seem, well, content?"

Only around everyone but Garak, it seems. He glances over at Elim, sitting on the biobed while a nurse hands him a lollipop and, sensing his confusion, attempts to explain how to eat it.

Garak stares. "I think so, yes. He's as well as he can be considering the situation he's in."

"That's good to hear." Then Julian pauses and stares at his feet awkwardly. Garak can already tell that whatever he's about to say, he won't like it. His mouth opens to speak several times before he actually manages to say something. "Well, I've been talking to Dax…"

"Have you now?" Garak knows it's a pointless provocation, and because it only gets him a sharp look, it's pathetic too.

"Yes, about Sleg.", Julian replies, sharply. "She says…well, she says she's not sure about how long he'll be here." He then hurriedly corrects himself and his every word is stilted and careful. "That is, if he's permanently stuck here or if he'll be returning…to wherever he came from."

Despite how careful Julian is, Garak still shudders. He can't tell if he's dreading Elim disappearing or never leaving at all. He knows, logically, that the latter option should be his preferred option, and he most certainly does want that, but the thought of him being gone just brings up questions of where he would be returning to. To nothingness? Or back in Tain's clutches? He scolds himself for thinking that. Elim was already in Tain's clutches, is still in his clutches and will always be in his clutches. He is simply not truly here.

"Does she not have a way of knowing that?", Garak makes himself ask.

Julian frowns apologetically. "She's not really sure what she's supposed to be looking for. She mentioned some other similar incidents, but they aren't really well documented, at least scientifically."

"Then I suppose Sleg is your guinea pig.", Garak scoffs.

Julian's eyes widen immediately and he answers so quickly and he's so incensed, that it gives Garak pause. "I would never allow anything like that."

"I'd never question your sense of medical ethics, Doctor.", he sniffs. "I only meant that whatever you're getting from all these scans you're putting the boy through must be valuable in whatever paper someone will inevitably write about this."

Julian gives him a frustrated look Garak can't quite decipher.

"Perhaps a collaboration between you and Dax.", he continues.

"Well, if Sleg is going to be here in the long term-"

"Oh, let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"If that's what happens-", Julian repeats, firmly. "He's going to need a better way of integrating with the rest of the station. That means he can't just stay with you all day. He'd need someone to help him, someone who can explain things to him."

"I was under the impression I was the only one up to that task."

"Jabara speaks Cardassi, remember? And if he still won't speak to her, we can try giving him a universal translator. Children his age usually aren't given one, but in this case…"

Garak tries to suppress this horrible pit forming in his stomach. He fails, of course. Anyone else being able to speak to Elim would blow his entire lie wide open. And when that happened, then… well, he's not sure what would happen. He doesn't have to, though. His mind rejects the idea of such a thing happening so fervently, so desperately, that it's enough of a deterrent in and of itself. Whatever would happen, he knows, would destroy him (whatever destruction would even mean for him in such a scenario).

It's imperative he be the only one with proper access to Elim, then.

He smiles at Julian, ignores the sense he's getting that he mistrusts him (not because he doesn't believe it to not be true, however). "I see. And will you start immediately?"

Julian shakes his head. "I want to give it a bit more time. He seems to be most comfortable around you, so I don't want to unnecessarily cause him stress. But if nothing's changed after…I suppose a few more days, I'll see if I can properly introduce him to Jabara."

"And if that doesn't work?"

He shrugs. "We could try a non invasive UT, but that's a last resort. I wouldn't want to affect his development too much with the use of a translator. Even Molly has to keep hers turned off most of the time."

Garak nods, what's expected of him, of course. But he's quick to say his goodbyes and lead Elim out of the infirmary. He can feel Julian's gaze burning the back of his head, but stops himself from shuddering.

"Mr. Garak?"

He nearly startles at Elim's fragile voice.

He doesn't stop walking, nor does he look down toward Elim, but he does slow down a bit so he can keep up.

"What is it?"

"Do you want a…lollipop?" He struggles with the word, stumbling over each syllable.

Garak nearly does stop when he hears that. For a moment, he's actually pulled away from his own mind by his confusion. He suddenly registers where he is on the station and the fact that he's holding Elim's hand. "Pardon?"

"The human nurse gave me a second one." He points to the one in his mouth, pressed against the inside of his cheek so he can speak clearly. "You're supposed to lick it until it's all gone. Do you want it? It's really good."

He's smiling at Garak and, as he realizes, can tell something is wrong and wants to comfort him. That somehow just breaks his trembling heart.

"No, but thank you. Keep it for yourself.", he gently replies.

Elim's smile doesn't falter.

Garak can't quite get his heart under control and it pounds against his chest traitorously. Even when he's back in his quarters, it doesn't calm. He tries the foolish little breathing exercises he's learned from Julian, but they can't do anything to address the root cause of his anxiety. He can count to four and inhale all he likes, but his situation won't change. Perhaps he should move away from the closet. That might help calm him down. But his legs refuse to obey him. Still, after a while, he manages to slow his heart rate enough to regain a modicum of control. He has no choice, after all. He still has to find a way to make this right, to keep Elim away from Julian and Jabara and whoever else might threaten this balancing act he's forced to perform.

Then Garak suddenly thinks about the isolation Tain forced upon him as a child and the wave of shame that engulfs him means his heart betrays him again.

———

Keiko looks at Garak a bit strangely the next time he visits her quarters with Elim. It's the first time she's looked at him with some sort of suspicion, he realizes. Her lack of hostility or even hesitance toward him has often confused him, especially back when they first met. Perhaps it was simply because she was married to the man most hostile to him on the entire station (not counting the average Bajoran, of course, or else the chief wouldn't stand a chance winning this particular competition), but he'd halfway expected some kind of hateful slur directed his way when he recognized who she was. But she'd simply smiled and politely told him what she wanted for her daughter, a custom outfit for a doll of hers. She let him measure the doll, gave him some reference images, approved some basic sketches and gave him a bright, genuine smile as she thanked him and left. How odd he had found it. And how odd it is that he now finds himself worrying about why Keiko is acting cold toward him when this is really just the universe righting itself.

They sit on her couch, watching Elim play with Molly, though even he doesn't seem as invested as he usually is and keeps glancing over at them worriedly.

"Was Sleg well behaved yesterday?", Garak asks Keiko. He focuses on the quiet clinking of his spoon against the teacup she handed him.

She avoids his gaze, keeps staring at the children. "Oh, yes, he was perfect, really. He was very brave."

"Brave? I'm not sure being away from me is that difficult."

He doesn't mean it in any negative way, but she glances over and looks at him as though it were the cruelest thing he could have possibly said.

"It is for him. I'm not upset about it, really. You had to work on some order. But he was quite upset when you dropped him off."

"I understand." Seeing Elim trying to hide his tears as Garak dropped him was unpleasant, to say the least.

"He's quite attached to you.", Keiko says. "And I can't blame him. This situation he's in…" She sighs. "It would be a lot for any child, but especially him."

"So you've said."

She then turns toward him properly, her whole body facing him. She's suddenly scrutinizing him. "Can I tell you something?"

What a magnificent start, he thinks. Is she purposely trying to instill dread in him? Or does she, like a bizarre number of humans, not realize that there's no real way to ask such a thing without causing nervousness? He thinks her too smart for that. But he nods and refuses to look away from her, just as she bites her lip and refuses to look away from him, during this small moment of silence between them.

"I know this is…." Keiko stops, frustrated, and starts again. "I don't think Sleg likes you very much"

He's frozen. He tries to subtly glance at Elim to see if he's hard, but if he has, he's showing no indication of it. And Garak isn't sure if he's being subtle at all when his stomach has dropped so terribly and his heart has jumped so frighteningly, now pounding against his chest.

Keiko's expression softens and she seems apologetic for her own suspicion of him. Her smile is small and tight. "I'm sorry, Garak.", she laughs quietly, meekly, even. "I don't mean to be so blunt, but I'm not sure there's an easy way to say that." He doesn't respond, just keeps on staring at her. "I'm sure it's not your fault."

He's not sure even she believes that.

Garak wishes he could stop time and think about this. "Why don't you think he likes me?"

"Well, Sleg here…well, he didn't want to go home with you." She laughs nervously. "It was right before you were meant to pick him up. I was telling him and I think he understood what I was saying. I was pointing at the door and saying you were coming soon. He heard your name and started shaking his head. You know what he said?"

"What?"

"He said "no". I mean, the actual word, not anything in Cardassi. He must have figured out what it meant from Molly." She laughs quietly.

"I see.", is all Garak can say.

"I don't think it had anything to do with him just having too much fun playing with Molly. He just…well, he started crying."

He wasn't crying when Garak came to pick him up. At least he actually knows how to do that. The thought is troubling none the less.

"I know I haven't been the most, shall I say, warm…" It feels dangerous to admit such a thing, though Keiko of course knows. "But he must know I'd never be cruel to him." So why does he feel like the cruelest man alive?

Keiko hums quietly and pensively. The image of Garak dragging Elim away and beating him returns to his mind. Except, it's no mere image this time. It's a living breathing scene inside of him. He sees himself throwing Elim into the closet. He hears the snap of the switch meeting flesh. He smells the urine wetting the his pants. Each individual element and snapshot play on loop in his mind's eye, forming a cacophony that threatens to make him run out of the room right this instant.

"Do you really think he doesn't like me", Garak says, trying to force nonchalance into his tone. But he knows he's failing.

Keiko frowns. "I'm sure it's not that bad, Garak. I shouldn't have said it like that. He's in an unfamiliar environment. He'll adjust."

Everyone always seems to say that. But no matter how many days pass, it never comes to fruition.

Garak doesn't spend more time than what's necessary in Keiko's quarters, and he doesn't say a word to Elim on their way home.

———

He's not really angry at Elim. How can he be when it's only logical that this would happen? Really, Garak is just mad at himself for being so foolish as to not see it coming. No, not foolish. A fool would have thought about the possibility of Elim naturally expressing his discomfort with him and dismissed it, or they wouldn't even consider the possibility in the first place. Garak simply refused to think about it. He refused and continues to refuse to think about this situation in general. It's beyond foolish, beyond even amateurish, it's simply cowardly.

He spends the evening avoiding Elim. He can't quite say the two have gotten comfortable with each other, but they do at least acknowledge each other at home. And now, just as it once was, his quarters are silent. Elim hasn't even tried to talk to him or even approach him. He suspects he must realize what happened, or at least, that Garak is upset and he's wisely decided to stay out of his way. It's better this way, of course. The less Garak sees Elim, the less his mind bombards him with images of him brutalizing him. He wants to say it's some sort of outside force implanting them in his mind. They come like visions, unexpected and oppressive, but he can't be certain that some part of him doesn't actually want to make them a reality. Perhaps he really is rotten, then. Either he's more depraved than he thought, or Tain is somehow finding a way to actively torment him from the afterlife. The old man was surely cunning enough to figure such a thing out and just to make Garak's life worse.

By dinner time, Garak is as reluctant to eat with Elim as he is. And it is, of course, a dreadful affair. He sees Elim sitting across from him, looking at his lap, and the thoughts of how pathetic he is return. And still Garak can't understand them, can't understand why he's so uncomfortable with Elim's childish appearance and mannerisms, or why that manifests as these visions of him hurting him.

Garak is only halfway through his meal before he quietly excuses himself and heads to bed. It's dark as he tries to sleep, but he can still see the closet across from him. It's infuriating and even more so is the fact that he can't bring himself to simply turn his back to the closet. He whispers to the computer to lower the lights further and it informs him that they're already at 0%.

———

Elim hides away in Garak's room when he hears Julian through the front door. He rushes past him with an uncomfortable look on his face. He doesn't stop him, though he doesn't quite understand his sudden discomfort around Julian. Then again, Garak is also filled with dread at this sudden visit, though he at least has a good reason. If Keiko struggled to believe his pitiful explanation…

"Come in.", Garak calls. The front door slides open and Julian enters.

The smile on Garak's face feels as tightly wound as Julian seems.

"I wasn't expecting visitors, Doctor. I thought our next appointment wasn't due until later."

"It's not. I'm sorry for dropping by unannounced."

"Nonsense. Why don't you stay for lunch? I was planning on trying that meal you were talking about. The one with chicken."

"Not today, Garak."

"Chicken…whatever it was called. Ah, chicken tikka masala."

"Garak, Keiko is a bit worried about Sleg. She said something about him…being upset with you?"

Julian sounds just as confused about the matter as Keiko was. What surprises Garak is that, despite her clear suspicions about him, she apparently didn't accuse him of anything to Julian. If she had, Julian would look far more upset. He wonders what exactly she did say.

"Yes, what was it she said?", Garak asks. He goes to his small cupboard and brings out some cutlery, mostly to busy himself and to avoid Julian's gaze.

"Well, she told me Sleg didn't want to go home after playing with Molly. I thought it was rather silly, but she said he was quite agitated." Julian follows him around as he brings out the cutlery. "Where is Sleg?"

"In my bedroom. Our bedroom", he corrects himself.

"I suppose he's not up for lunch?", Julian asks, carefully.

"I suppose not."

The silence that follows is uncomfortable, to say the least. Julian decides to wordlessly help him set up the table. He deliberates on whether or not he should replicate some food for Elim. The boy can always just ask for some later, but with Julian here, he wonders if it might come off as neglectful. He stalls making that choice by pretending to want to place the cutlery just right and adjusting it a rather ridiculous amount of times. But eventually, of course, he has to walk over to the replicator and, upon glancing over at his closed bedroom door, orders just two plates of chicken tikka masala. If Julian makes any assumptions based on that, Garak can't tell.

They eat in silence and Garak feels like this is his final meal before…something. Before Elim is taken away from him, surely. That shouldn't bother him that much. In fact, it would probably make his life a lot easier. But what he should be feeling rarely ever seems to be more than a fantasy, isn't it?

Garak forces himself to eat. The food is good, at least. He wouldn't have wondered about that since he, of course, had no intention of ever actually eating this.

After a while, Julian puts his fork down. "I'm sorry for coming over like this, I don't mean to worry you." He laughs nervously. "I probably am, aren't I?"

"Oh, I can handle myself, Doctor. Besides, it's all for the well being of the boy, isn't it? You're concerned about what Keiko said."

"A little" A pause. "More than a little. I don't want to imply you're a bad caretaker or anything, Garak. From what we've been seeing, you're doing a perfectly good job. It's just…"

He smiles. "He needs more than plain old Garak."

Julian smiles apologetically. It just upsets Garak more. But sitting across from him now, seeing that same, too-sweet expression of a man trying to deliver bad news as gently as he can, he realizes he can't really delay the inevitable. What is he really afraid of? What does it even matter if others find out the truth? Is it really so bad for others to see what he once was? He wants to chuckle at that unexpected thought. Like a little Julian living inside his head. Merely another voice in the constant cacophony.

"I spoke to Jabara about it. She's willing to spend some time with him. Maybe we'll have an hour or so where she can speak to him, see what she can get." Julian sounds so hopeful about it too.

Garak picks at his food. "Will he even speak to her?" He already knows the answer.

"Well, he's been getting better about communicating with the rest of us. He may not speak our language, but you've seen how much more expressive he's been lately. Maybe you'll still have to be there with him at first, but talking to other people will be good for him."

"And then what? What happens after?"

Julian deflates instantly, snapped out of his hopeful ramblings.

"I'm not sure. This situation is rather unprecedented."

"But whatever you choose to do, one thing seems perfectly clear." Garak stabs his food forcefully. "He can't stay with me."

"I…Garak, you know you're not fit to care for a child."

"Then who is? Keiko? Jabara? This boy has been separated from his family on Cardassia and now you intend to hand him over to whatever outsider will have him. How will you explain all of this to him, hmm?"

Julian stares at him with a rather pitiful look.

"You know, we've been avoiding telling him much of anything, but that can only take us so far, Doctor. When he asks for his parents-"

"And what about you, Garak? You don't seem very willing to divulge much information about Sleg. Hasn't he told you about himself at all? Or have you just not asked?"

Garak can't reply. Julian grimaces at his own words, clearly regretting them despite being entirely right in what he said. They fall silent once more.

The silence is interrupted by the bedroom door sliding open. Garak doesn't look toward it, just keeps his eyes on Julian.

"Mr. Garak?", Elim quietly says from the doorway.

Julian looks at the boy and smiles softly, a fragile facade. "Hello, Sleg. Me and Garak were just having lunch. We're alright."

Garak looks over at Elim. He's leaning against the doorway, glancing between the floor and the table nervously. "Mr. Garak."

"What is it, Sleg?", he replies.

Elim pauses at that name. Garak has been avoiding calling him by his name for this exact reason. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. Doctor Bashir and I are just having a friendly disagreement.", Garak says. "Why don't you head back to your room?"

Julian turns to look at him so quickly, Garak thinks he might yet get whiplash. He looks at him as though he had just said something impossibly cruel. Surely not, Garak thinks. But it is dismissive. Perhaps that's the same thing to Elim.

"Garak-"

"The boy just needs a break from all of this nonsense." Garak gets up, not even bothering to put his plate away. He hurries over to Elim, not really understanding why, but when he puts a hand on his shoulder, he suddenly understands this terrible dread building inside of him and the tremor in his hands. Someone is going to hurt Elim. He wants to laugh at his body (for it's certainly not his mind coming to these conclusions) for thinking that. Who is going to hurt him? Julian? Garak? But how can he laugh when this anxiety won't leave him?

He follows this urge to hide Elim away before something bad happens and he ushers him back into the bedroom. Julian follows, frustrated.

"Garak, you can't just-"

"Sleg, stay here. We're just talking."

Elim looks up at him, confused and tense. He can't help but crowd him near the corner of the room, walking away from Julian until he and Elim are both awkwardly huddled near the wall.

"Garak, what are you doing?" He's rarely heard Julian this upset.

"Must you shout? I'm simply bringing him back to his room."

"Why?" Why, indeed. "You can't just avoid the issue."

Garak turns and looks at him. Really looks at him. That terrible anger on Julian's face, worse, the mistrust, just sends him spiraling further. It's not him who responds to this provocation. It's some animal inside of him, a scared, cornered beast pouncing at what Julian is thinking and what he's purposely not saying.

"I am not some cruel old man mistreating him-!" He steps forward toward Julian suddenly, making him jump back. He doesn't register Elim jumping back as well. But then he hears the small thud against the wall and glances over, heart still pounding wildly. He almost doesn't notice Elim, still and tense against the closet. His eyes are shut and fluttering.

¨Sleg?" The visions come again, worse than ever. He doesn't let them stop him from approaching Elim. Even Julian quiets down when he sees what's wrong. He tries to walk over as well, but Garak gets there first. He kneels in front of Elim and takes his hands. It's a frightening thing being this gentle. Doubly so when he sees himself violently tugging the boy by his hands. His instinct is to pull away lest he hurt him. The image of him yanking hard is so clear, flashing like an alarm, that he's sure he could really superimpose it over his vision if he tried.

But he doesn't pull away.

"Elim." Garak doesn't think when he says it.

Elim opens his eyes and squeezes Garak's hand so hard his own little ones shake. He's fighting not to tremble, Garak can see. His lip trembles and his face contorts into a tight grimace of control. Garak realizes, at once, how resilient he may be after all.

"I'm sorry I-"

Elim hugs Garak. leaping into his arms and burying his face against his shoulder. He hears Julian curse under his breath behind him, but they both stay silent. Garak focuses only on Elim's shallow breaths against him, the tiny sobs he can't quite hide. It's painful. Every sob that escapes him sounds painful and his breathing speeds up even more after each one. Were he the one acting this way, it would be pathetic, not just worthy of reproach, but demanding it. Then he remembers that he is the one behaving this way. He still doesn't know what to say, but the thought is enough to make him bury his own face against Elim's shoulder and leave the visions behind for now.