* BIRTHRIGHT

     that silence is all of a reply the augment needs.

     he’s cornered.

     bashir returns the unreadable expression  —  returns the studying gaze, though he makes no effort to not hide it. eyes flicker over captain archer’s face, desperately trying to dispel the paranoia that chills him to the point he has to restrain himself from shivering, entire body tense. augmentation may have him able to control his physical reactions, but it leaves him helpless to himself, helpless to the voice that smothers his narcissism to gleefully tell him how stupid he is and that he’s ratted himself out.

     within the blink of an eye, his expression is forced back to a smaller-than-normal smile, and julian stands up. the threat echoes, but that’s something to handle later. 

             ❝  very, yes.  ❞  he passes by jon, giving him one more studying glance, smile faltering for a split second.  

            ❝  do extend my apologies and well wishes to their captain as well, sir.  ❞

      ❝ i will. ❞

      extending well wishes isn’t the only reason why jon will be contacting the other captain. perhaps, if the aggressor were awake, maybe he can answer some questions. fill in some gaps that jonathan feels are missing. he hates to think that julian is LYING to him. holding something back, for some reason. but his side of the story didn’t add up, and jon had a very good radar for bullshit.

      he watches julian disappear from sick bay before jon’s attention shifts to phlox, who’d been off to the side with his own work.  ❝ phlox, ❞  jon says to get the denobulan’s attention. 

      and when his cmo turns, the captain pads up to his side, eyeing the monitor for bashir’s scan results. surely, phlox should have gotten more than enough scans of julian to tell him SOMETHING of value. 

     julian lets out a slow exhale at the ‘answer a few questions’ comment. yeah. few. a few hundred, maybe, if they get lucky. self-defense or not. but, lingering on that though will only make is still-simmering temper worse, and that’s not something either of them need.

              ❝  in a way, yes  …  i will admit, i did react more strongly than i should have.  ❞

     a near-murder in response to a shove is an overreaction and a half. a near-murder being him restraining himself, still, is a horrifying thought he doesn’t wish to linger on more. and yet, it’s one he’s forced to face, as jon accuses a non-existent person of aiding julian. 

     shoving aside the little narcissistic devil clambering in the back of his mind, absolutely insulted that jon thinks bashir needs help defending himself  — let alone that work wasn’t his own  !  he may not be proud of what he did, but to imply he can’t do that?   —  he looks at his captain. he could lie. frame someone to take the fall with him. it would be so easy, and it would be so quick, with no questions. it would cover his ass, too.

     it’s funny, in a way. despite the web of lies he’s created for himself, this is where he’s drawing the line. with seemingly no hesitation, julian replies to jon, his brows furrowing.

              ❝  i’m not defending anyone, sir. there was no one else there.  ❞

      julian’s reply brushes away what little semblance of playfully light teasing there was when jon entered sickbay. the captain’s face, for all his outward energy, is UNREADABLE. and he tries not to make it seem like he’s studying julian - trying to stare him down for the truth - but jon can’t help to just watch him. to wonder why his doctor was so obviously covering something up. 

      there’s no way he could’ve taken out that alien by himself. julian bashir was, no offense, not a very big man. and starfleet self-defense courses could only do so much against an opponent who has more size and STRENGTH on his side. 

      after a few heartbeats of silence, jon eventually nods his head.  ❝ alright, well, i’ll get this all sorted out. there’s nothing you need to worry about, if what you said is true. ❞

     julian flexes his hand, looking down at his healed hand, brown skin covering over knuckles that were split open and pink moments ago. it was a  …  nasty reminder of his own strength, and nasty reminder he should probably take a day or two to relax. that, maybe, stress is finally getting the better of him.

     temper still raw with the aliens’ rude remarks clear in his mind, doctor bashir can’t say he regrets what he did. though, he is dreading starfleet crawling up his ass for this; even more since they know he’s an augment. 

     sighing hard out of his nose, he glances around to make sure phlox is out of earshot, before replying to his captain.

              ❝  if i’m honest, sir  ?  it felt good.  ❞

      despite this less-than-ideal situation, jon smirks at his doctor’s answer. oh, he could only imagine how good it must have felt to actually REACT to the things these people said. trip had to help his captain keep his head on straight before jon lost his own temper and struck out. a nice thought, even if it’s not one a starfleet captain and representative of earth should be feeling. 

      ❝ we might have to answer a few questions for starfleet, but so long as it WAS self-defense, i don’t imagine you’ll get into trouble. ❞ 

      at least, jon wouldn’t ALLOW julian to be punished. not for defending himself. 

      and he wouldn’t let whoever julian was with to be punished either. jon thinks back to the conversation he had with the commanding officer of the alien who harassed julian. remembers how EXTENSIVE his injuries were, as if he were ganged up on by a small group of people. no way was julian by himself in the fight. 

      ❝ i’m not supposed to advocate for violence. as the captain, i disagree with what you did. ❞

      jonathan knew the small brawl would bring nothing but trouble. starfleet headquarters will DEFINITELY have a thing or two to say about it - they’ll pressure him to punish the one responsible. but he was also VERY WELL aware that these particular aliens were less than polite.