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It was different on the station after they left.
Julian had tried not to let it get to him, but it was just so noticeable. When he passed by the doors to the cargo bay they’d converted to serve as temporary quarters for the genetically engineered inpatients, something made him slow his steps and look back down the corridor.
There was no more dodging Lauren’s full-body embraces. No more tossing a puzzle cube back and forth with Jack while they talked over the Dominion situation. There was no chance that he would move his arm and bump into an outstretched PADD from Sarina. And Patrick wasn’t around to point out his uncharacteristic silence and say something strikingly kind to fill it.
There were no more rowdy breakfasts when he visited their quarters in the morning. No more swapping stories from their brief, troubled childhoods. No more careful introductions between the other GEs and Julian’s “normal” friends on the station.
If they’d had just a few more days, Patrick and Miles might’ve been able to get through a full conversation without some sort of misunderstanding. They had always started out with shop talk and somehow devolved into tears or laughter, but they’d been getting the hang of it, they really had.
Jack and Garak would’ve gotten along famously, Julian was sure. They would’ve fascinated each other - or terrified each other. One of those.
Lauren might’ve actually succeeded in stealing Jadzia away from Worf. Well, maybe not. But the science officer was a relentless flirt when she wanted to be, and she’d had such fun watching the other woman pull out all the stops trying to tempt her into a kiss or something more. Lauren had revelled in the challenge even more than Julian once had in the misguided early days of his friendship with Jadzia.
And Sarina - Well, it had seemed like an odd prospect when it first occurred to him, but it made more sense the longer he thought about it - Quark might actually be a good person for Sarina to meet, for two reasons in particular: First, because he’d been around forever and wouldn’t hesitate to give her the usual rambling spiel that was his overview of life on Deep Space Nine. Second, because Morn had been a regular customer for years, and the ornery Ferengi had never once taken issue with his selective mutism or his sedate way of moving. Sarina could just sit at the bar, listen to the sounds of patrons milling around and Quark droning on about the latest station gossip, and not be bothered for a while. Julian had noticed that she liked to have some time away from the other inpatients on occasion. It could be -
“- Julian... eh, Julian?”
Julian startled rather obviously, realizing with an almost painful jolt that he’d been standing in the same spot in the corridor for some indeterminate stretch of time - just stuck there, remembering. He whipped his head back around to address the person who’d been calling his name. It was Miles… again. Julian might have a problem on his hands.
It wasn’t exactly the first time since the inpatients’ departure that his friend had found him like this. It was more like the fifth or sixth, actually. The Chief was a perceptive man - Maybe not as perceptive as the other GEs, but then, it wasn’t a competition, as Julian had taken care to assure his friend while they were visiting - there was no way he hadn’t noticed that something was off. And something was off. Julian just didn't know what it was, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to figure it out. He was just… he just felt…
“Hey.”
Julian blinked down at Miles’ hand on his arm. He noticed, suddenly, how both of his arms were sort of held out in front of him. His elbows were tucked right in at his sides, and his hands curled a little, like they were meant to be clutching a PADD. It was muscle memory, but not quite. Not quite.
Miles’ eyes were soft when Julian looked up. It was a little hard to hold his friend’s gaze. He supposed he was trying to avoid seeing pity there, or something like that.
“Let’s go to that meeting room down the hall for a minute,” Miles said.
He turned to find the door, and Julian followed behind him, still somewhat dazed.
Julian had actually never been in this particular conference space before. It wasn’t an uncommon thing, the station being as large as it was, but it was a little unexpected. The overhead lights in the dark, starlit room raised to about half brightness as they stepped silently into the middle of the carpeted floor. There was a rectangular table at one end of the room, with ten or so workspaces and chairs surrounding it. There were other, more comfortable chairs on the other side of the room, and a soft-looking couch was against the wall closest to them, facing the porthole. Miles led Julian over there to sit down.
The pattern on the carpet was just interesting enough to warrant all the staring Julian was planning on doing at it. Something about the impending conversation was already making him uneasy, even to the point that he felt vaguely ill. It didn’t make sense, but not much did, lately. That’s why he and Miles were sitting here now, Julian supposed.
He was unsure which one of them Miles had wanted to speak first, but he figured he had better start out with something reassuring like I’m okay, really, no need to worry -
“This isn’t normal, Julian.”
- He passed as normal -
Julian took one very controlled breath.
“Wait, I’m sorry,” Miles backtracked, “I want to phrase that better.”
He softened his voice a bit from the bold tone he’d started out with.
“I just mean that this isn’t the first time I’ve noticed you frozen in place, looking like you’re caught in some sort of haze. It’s not something I’ve ever seen before when everything is okay with you, which makes me think that… Well, that you might not be... okay. Does that make sense?”
Julian nodded, feeling his shoulders loosen just a little. He wasn’t out of the woods just yet, but at least, so far, the woods weren’t as bad as he’d expected them to be.
“I know that something’s changed… and I think you know that something’s changed,” Miles worked out slowly, “so at least we’re on the same page, there.”
He nodded once, as if to solidify that for himself. Julian copied him, almost reflexively. Miles took it in stride and continued, determination renewed:
“- But the other thing is, I don’t want you to keep telling me that you’re okay. You’ve been saying that you are, and acting like you are, but you don’t have to do that. You don’t have to be okay, alright?”
“I don’t have to be okay,” Julian confirmed faintly.
“And, listen, nothing bad is going to happen if you stop pretending that you are. I promise you,” Miles said, sounding unfairly sure of himself.
“You shouldn’t promise -”
“Well, I’m gonna.”
Julian glanced up and met his friend’s eyes at that. He looked as determined as he sounded. His hands weren’t shaking, that was for sure.
“How are you feeling right now?” Miles asked, his brow wrinkling just a little in that long-familiar expression of concern.
Simple. Easy. No risk there. No wrong answer.
“Like I might be sick,” Julian answered.
Just brilliant.
He gritted his teeth quickly to stop them from chattering as a tremor worked its way up his shoulders and into his neck. Miles shifted forward a little in his peripheral vision.
“Oh. S-should we get you to a ‘fresher, or...”
“No, I just need -” Julian blinked, hard, twice “- I-I don’t know. I don’t know.”
He shook his head side to side, and then couldn’t seem to stop, so it turned into a sort of rocking motion. His thoughts were racing, and his breathing was shallow. His heart rate must’ve been ridiculously high, but he couldn’t even time the beats in his head like he usually did, because he was shaking too hard now. Miles took his hand and gripped it tightly.
Julian held on.
Some unknowable number of minutes later, Julian sort of slumped into the back of the couch. It was like all the nervous energy had just vibrated out of him and suddenly he could barely keep his head up.
Miles patted the hand he held, but didn’t let go just yet. Julian loved him for it.
“Well… How are you feeling now?”
Despite everything, Julian breathed out a shaky laugh. Miles' answering smile was a little uneven with concern.
“I’m… so tired,” he admitted, “and not okay.”
“Thank the stars!” Miles said emphatically, clutching Julian’s hand in both of his.
They both laughed harder, abruptly and without restraint. Julian leaned into his friend's side and Miles slung an arm around his shoulders while they gazed out the window, and finally, they both managed to calm down.
Things still didn't make sense, but at least they'd made a start.