At this rate, Julian is going to take to having his evening meals in his quarters. Or Sickbay. It's infinitely preferable to being in Ten Forward when another person is unceremoniously dropped into their midst by Q, someone who obviously doesn't take kindly to the surprise.

He recognizes the look on the boy's face, and it concerns him. Julian has seen people coming back from the front lines--Starfleet officers, shaken by war, by horrible circumstances. He looks young. Too young, in fact, to be a soldier.

Julian doesn't know what else could possibly cause that look. He doesn't want to know--the possibilities make him heartsick.

But he stands up, hands out, because he is tasked with keeping people safe and healthy, and that involves mental health when he has to, and not being stabbed with butter knives. But he doesn't approach the boy from behind, making very sure to go around to his front. To approach him with hands open, offering no threat.

"It's alright. You're not in danger here, I promise you. You can put the knife down."