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When Julian came to consciousness, he wasn't quite sure if he was alive.
He was warm and comfortable, as if ensconced in a comfortable blanket. The scent of fresh baked goods lingered in the air, sweet and enticing. The world was quiet out, and Julian could not hear anything but a soothing distant murmur. He was not in any pain - his mind was folding over the memory of him setting off grenades and committing suicide, but it all seemed quite abstract, as if it wasn't quite real. He recalled those who he remembered had died - Ezri, Benjamin, countless others - and with a pang wondered if he would be seeing them in this afterlife.
He would've become quite convinced of his own death had a bird not chosen that point to take perch nearby and began cawing - an ugly, rusty sound that brought Julian straight out of his reverie. He groaned.
This could not be what it was like to die, Julian thought, and he blinked open his eyes.
The first thing he saw when he awoke was a large arched ceiling above his head. He was in a very comfortable bed, wide enough for at least three people, covered in thick duvets and several pillows. If he turned his head to his right he could see a bedside cabinet covered in bric a brac - reading PADDs, a set of glasses, a no-spill bottle of water, earplugs and a small blue vibrator. Beyond that there was a row of closets brimming with clothes, and on top of a short chest of drawers sat Kukalaka, accompanied by a white whale teddy.
Not dead, then .
He rolled out of bed, intending on figuring out where he was and what was going on, but as he pushed himself to his feet, his knees buckled and collapsed immediately to the ground. The crash seemed to have disturbed the bird, which immediately flew off with a final caw from its perch in the tree outside the window. The taste and feel of cold stone floors and polish filled his senses as he wondered what , that wasn't meant to happen-
And then- oh. Right. Yes. Legs didn't work. Of course they didn't, after the accident and three years comatose. Paralysed from the waist down. With some effort, he rolled himself over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling above. His head felt less foggy now, and from his new position he could see the decorative Cardassian plasterwork in the arches of the white ceiling. That looked awfully familiar…
“Julian? Are you well?”
Ah. He knew that voice.
“Down here, Elim.” he said, voice thick with sleep. “Got a bit confused. Fell out of bed.”
“Thought I heard a thump. Let me get the hoist.”
Elim Garak came around the bed, and Julian saw the familiar round Cardassian, greying black hair pulled back into a bun and clad in a sky blue tunic and trousers. Elim pulled the hoist over on the pulley system along the wall, and then used it to help Julian get up from the floor. He pushed Julian’s hover chair over, and Julian easily transferred from the hoist into it, rearranging himself to be comfortable.
“Thanks,” he said, once settled. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Are you hurt?”
“Only my pride is bruised. I had a strangely vivid dream. Got a bit distracted.”
"Oh? What was it about?" A hand came to wrap around his shoulders, and that was familiar too - warm and comforting. Julian leaned into the touch.
"War. Something about saving the Prime timeline from the Borg. I was in a coma to start, but you came and said Ezri's name and suddenly I got up and walked out to save the world."
"Well, if I had known Captain Dax was the key to waking you, that would've saved me three years waiting." Elim joked. Julian elbowed him.
"Hush. Both you and I know catalepsy doesn't work like that." And they did both know - it had only been a year since Julian had been roused from his catatonic state, and it had taken a lot of therapy and physio to get him out and about in a hover chair.
"I know." The arm on his shoulder squeezed in comfort. "Was there anything else?"
"Everyone I loved kept dying." Julian shuddered, the apparition of Benjamin Sisko dying in his arms still making him feel cold. "No-one's died that we know of, have they? Captain Sisko and the rest are alright?"
"No-one's died since you went to bed ten hours ago. And I know Captain Sisko is alive since he's coming over for dinner tonight with Kai Kira."
"Dinner? But I thought-" Julian frowned, trying to piece that together, and then the answer struck him like lightning. "Oh of course! The treaty talks that you've been going on about."
"They're arriving with the Bajoran delegation. Captain Sisko as the Emissary and Kai Kira as the religious leader." Elim's eyes sparkled. "And, if you haven't yet recalled, the official welcome is today and as a spouse of the Castellan, you're expected to be there."
"Oh. Shit." Julian did not realise that he had actually sent those words until Elim's smile widened into a grin. "Bollocks, I did forget. When are we supposed to leave?"
"Not for another two hours. You left your clothes on the bedside drawers last night. I've already checked them and they're suitable for the occasion."
Julian rolled his eyes at that. "I should've expected that. Glad it meets your expectations."
"As am I. I think my good taste is rubbing off on you, ðurha." Elim bent down, and kissed him lightly, as if he had done this a thousand times before, and Julian smiled. "Best start getting dressed. Kelas is downstairs already - they're making breakfast. I think they're trying to make some Human foods today."
Julian grinned up at him, and Elim responded with a genuine affectionate look. He kissed him again, long and slow, before his arm slipped from Julian's shoulder and he padded out of the room and down the stairs. Julian transferred back to the bed so he could comfortably dress, finding that yesterday-evening-him had set out a fine Cardassian suit in lilac and cream to wear for the welcoming event. It took him a little while to get everything on - it always did with his disability - but once dressed he transferred back to the hover chair and went out of the room, using the small elevator by the side of the stairs to get down into the kitchen.
Elim was already there, helping his other spouse - and by helping, he meant kissing Kelas to distraction. Kelas was also in their hover chair today, and was dressed in a golden kaftan with small embroidered flowers, although the top half was covered with an old shirt - Kelas' hands were arthritic and had a tendency to shake, and the shirt stopped them from spilling anything on the nice fabric beneath. They waved at him as he steered through the kitchen arch.
"Julian!" Kelas said, beckoning him over. "Come over - I've made,uh… pain au chocolat?"
Kelas' Northern accent struggles to pronounce the French words but Julian smiled at their attempt and came over to inspect the goods himself. They looked just like pain au chocolat that he would have had at home - golden puffed layers of butter and pastry, and two dark bitter chocolate centres, however he did notice that they were in, his own words, fucking massive.
"They look fantastic, Kelas," Julian replied. "A little bigger than I'm used to, but that's not a down side. That just means more pastry and chocolate for me!"
Kelas looked relieved, and laughed. "I got the recipe from Professor O'Brien. She told me it would make twelve, so I was a bit concerned when I only was able to make six."
"I bet they’re going to taste delicious. Shall I take them over to the table?"
The kitchen table was an old scarred thing made of imported wood and was rescued from the old Tain residence after the Fire. But Julian knew most of the scars did not come from the ruins but had in fact been made by Elim and his family in the years that they had used it before his exile. If he asked, Elim would tell him of how each scar got to be there, whether it was him as a young boy cutting lines into the edge of the table when his mother forced him to sit there and eat his vegetables, or if it was something more meaningful. He knew if he got his hover chair low enough and looked under the desk he could find a small carving that stated Elim 4 Korik 4evr, which always made him chuckle.
Julian brought over the pastry and some alien fruit for them to snack on for breakfast and set them in the middle of the table. Kelas followed him, carrying cacti milk and sugars for their drinks and plates for them to eat from. Elim brought the drinks themselves - hot fish juice for himself and (much to Elim's disgust) coffee for both Kekas and Julian. He made several disgusted expressions as he poured out the coffee for them both, but his eyes were never less than warm and affectionate.
“I got the post, while you were dressing.” Elim said in a conversational manner, indicating to a stack of post on the table. “Captain Dax has sent a postcard from Laos.”
“Oh, she’s on Earth?” Julian picked it up and admired the front photo. “Her wife’s from Laos, isn’t she?”
“It’s her honeymoon.” Kelas answered, already nibbling on some fruit. “You were at her wedding only a month ago, remember?”
“Oh! Of couse.” Julian looked a little sheepish. “Sorry. Nightmare hangover. I’m not quite out of it.”
Kelas reached out and curled a hand around his own, warm and comforting. Despite the horror of the nightmare, he couldn’t help feeling soothed.
“The hangover is often the worst part.” Kelas’ voice was sympathetic. “Did you want to talk about it?”
“Not right now. I think I’ll be okay.” Julian used his free hand to steal a giant pain au chocolat from the platter. “It was a bit abstract. Collapsing our timeline to save a more important one, everyone dying in the process…”
Kelas glanced over at Elim, and then shook their head. “I certainly hope it remains only a nightmare. I rather like our timeline, don’t you?”
And Julian found that he couldn’t really argue with that.