Sorry for such a big summary, I've just been planning this story out for a while-and finally decided to write it. Always frustrated they didn't do more with Jake's character. This was just one of the ways I thought they could use it.
A prisoner appeared in the doorway, as Worf, Garek, and Bashir were getting used to their new surroundings.
"They are releasing him from isolation."
"Who are you talking about?" Worf asked. Martok glanced at him, calmly.
"A friend." Bashir's eyes widened when the doors opened and in walked in a rather roughed up Jake Sisko.
For a few moments no one said anything. Finally Garak cut the silence.
"Could someone please explain what is going on here?
Jake stared at the group, wide eyed.
"What are you doing here?"
"We could ask you the same thing," said Julian-in utter disbelief, and horror.
"How do I know you're not just a changling?" He challenged. That met with confused looks from everyone but Martok. Martok sighed.
"Well, there's one way to solve this little problem."
A few minutes later everyone had a slight cut on their finger. Jake relaxed when he saw that they all bled.
"Jake, what are you doing here?" Julian asked, still in shock.
"Let the young man breathe, a bit," Martok adviced. "He's just been through a month of isolation."
"A month?!" Garak asked sharply. "You've been here a month?"
"Longer than that." Worf frowned.
"When was the last time I went to earth, for a writers conference?"
"That..that was over a year ago!" Bashir gasped, his voice shaking. He was also taken aback by how beaten up Jake looked. There were cuts, and bruises, everywhere. And what bothered him more was the apathetic look in the young man's eyes.
"It's been that long?"
"It has," Martok said, with a curt nod.
"Time really does fly when you're trying to survive." Jake's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I can tell there needs to be a lot to explain.
"Oh naturally you'd think that," Garak rebuttled. "But it seems perfectly logically that you would be here-of all people, Jake Sisko."
Jake rolled his eyes.
"One thing I haven't missed is Garak's so called wit."
"No need to get personal." Garak looked hurt.
Worf sat down, next to Jake.
"Someone needs to tell us what is going on. Jadzia would throw a fit, to know you were in here. So were the Captain. Why is it, I just saw you talking to her before I left?"
Jake sighed, clearly agitated.
"It was a changling, all right? That's why I asked for blood samples. A changling decided it would impersonate me, because I'm the son of the Emmisary, and Deep Space Nine's Captain's son. They were sure dad would have told me a whole bunch of stuff off duty."
"Does he?" Julian asked slowly. Jake shook his head.
"No, but that doesn't mean fake me could ask questions, and get it out of him." Jake sighed, and glanced at Martok.
"It is good to see your face, though."
"How did you two meet in here?" Worf inquired.
"Did you see the fighting ring I was in?" Martok asked. They nodded.
"That was where I met Jake. They threw him to the fighters. I didn't know who he was, but I liked his spirit. He kept on getting up, even after getting beaten. I intervined, and saved his life. But now they decide to pick me for fights, instead."
"He's also been showing me the ropes," Jake admitted. "On how to be a prisoner of war."
"Like I said, he had good spirit. A lot of honor. Even for someone who wasn't a klingon. But I could see he was stubborn, and would get himself killed if he wasn't careful. So I decided it would be up to me to look out for the kid."
"I owe him my life." Jake's voice was simple, and factual. Bashir's head was spinning as he glanced at Worf, and Garak, with a question filled in his eyes.
What the hell were they going to do now, and how were they going to tell the Captain his son had been a prisoner of war, and he had no idea?
Julian insisted on taking a look at Jake's wounds. Jake protested, but after a while-gave up out of pure exhaustion. He removed his shirt and Bashir tried to hold back his gasp. The wounds weren't as bad as Bashir feared, but there were still far too many welts, and bruises, for his liking. What bothered him the most was how skinny Jake seemed to appear.
"I wish I had some bandages," sighed Bashir. "It would be better if these welts were protected."
"Most of them are old anyway, and faded."
His voice was flat, another thing the doctor did not like hearing.
"How's my dad?" Jake asked, keeping his voice soft. Julian glanced at Worf, as his heart went out to the young man who must have been filled with worry about his family.
"He's fine...prepping for war, but other than that..." Bashir shrugged, as if to say what else is there to expect?
"Does he at least visit my Grandfather, still?"
"He does." Worf answered, this time. "He took Jadzia, O'Brien and Keiko, and Kira with him last time. As well as...you..or I should say, changling you."
Jake's face darkened slightly, at the last remark, but nodded.
"The only thing that I took comfort in was knowing that my father wasn't worried about me. That he thought I was safe." He shook his head, a little bitter looking. "Still, woulda thought he, or Nog, might have noticed something was off with me the past year."
"They were, er...very distracted with current affairs," Garak supplied, feeling a sense of pity for the kid. He was a little younger than Ziyal's age. He'd be furious, and out of his mind with worry, if she was held prisoner.
Next to him, Bashir sighed, still processing what Jake had told him. He had a hard time believing that Jake would take such comfort in his father not being worried when it meant he would be trapped here, and yet he knew that the young Sisko was telling the truth. He glanced at Martok, who gave him a knowing look.
"Like i said, he has a lot of honor, that Jake," he finally said. "And a lot of sarcasm, too." Jake snorted, as he put on his shirt.
"I wouldn't have to work so hard at keeping you alive, if you just cooperated a little bit more-" Martok continued to argue, his voice dripping with annoyance.
"Now where would the fun in that be?"
"What are you talking about?" Worf asked, with a frown. Martok shook his head.
Jake arched his eyebrows.
"All right, young MAN, has a harder time controlling that mouth of his than I do-and that is really saying something." Martok shook his head. "How often do you get thrown into isolation for a snide comment, here or there?"
"I would get bored, otherwise."
Garak gave a bit of a hearty laugh.
"Must say, I rather like prisoner Jake more than regular Jake."
"I don't," snapped Bashir, and shot Garak a look. "Martok's right, that's a great way to get yourself killed, Jake."
"Look," Jake argued. "They captured me, but I'm not about to make it easy on them. They're not going to win that easily. What do I have to lose?"
"Your life." Both the doctor, and Martok spoke at the same time, and Jake rolled his eyes.
"They'll never kill me."
"What makes you so cocky about that?" Bashir sounded really angry now.
"Because," sighed Jake. "I'm the Captain's son. If they need to, they'll use me as leverage. A trade, of sorts. If my dad has them beat somehow. I'm their pawn, so they need me to stay alive."
"Okay, but how about in one piece?" Martok asked, in a calmer voice. "And remember, I promised you a real full blown interview with you on my ship, once we get out. But in order to do that, you have to stay in tact."
"Fine," sighed Jake. "But if they insult my father, I'm still going to respond. You don't expect me to take that sitting down."
"Fair enough," Garak interrupted Julian from speaking. "I think it's safe to say we can all understand that much, can't we?"
"We can," Worf agreed. Julian agreed, as well, but was more sullen about it. He sighed, and shook his head.
"I promise, I'm going to get you out of here, Jake," He vowed. Jake gave him his first real smile.
"I'll be holding you to that promise, doctor."
Bashir nodded, and looked at Martok, knowing that they were all in this together. They would get the Captain's son out- no matter what the cost was