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Natural Remedy

Fandom: Star Trek Discovery
Rated: G
Category: Vignette. Angst, Culmets.
Word Count: 1356.
Season: Post-Two, Pre-Three.
Spoilers: General Series Knowledge Only.
Summary: Sometimes, even the best doctors aren’t what the patient needs.
Note: My head canon is that Hugh and Tracy are friends, not just colleagues. Also, thanks to Jessica for the beta read. I haven’t used one in a long time, but while my writer coat still fits, it’s a bit wrinkly, so your input was helpful, friend. Finally, this is a prologue to Chapter One, "Recheck."

Also, this is part of the "I Rang The Bell With My Heart In My Mouth" series, and stories in this series are presented as inspiration strikes, not chronologically. See notes above for timeframe/related stories.

-----

Doctor Tracy Pollard heard the commotion from across sickbay, and she knew immediately which patient needed her. She looked toward his biobed, and her suspicions were confirmed when she saw Commander Stamets’ wide eyes as he stared at the doctor leaning over him.

She glanced at the monitor above his bed and another suspicion was made real. Paul’s heart rate, while technically still normal, had skyrocketed from its previous values.

And she knew only one way to fix that.

“Doctor Culber,” she called loudly, “can you help me with this?”

The man hovering above Stamets raised his head to give her an irritated glare.

“Now?”

Tracy put as much command into her voice as she could muster in the circumstances. “Yes, now,” she ordered. Then she motioned toward Stamets with her head and called out. “Nurse, can you please take over for Doctor Culber? Standard recovery protocol.”

A nurse who was passing by immediately moved to do so, but Hugh didn’t budge.

“Tracy…”

Pollard leveled her own glare back at her colleague. “Hugh.”

With an exasperated sigh, Hugh looked down at Paul.

“I’ll be back,” he murmured.

Then he stepped away and the nurse took his place.

He strode across sickbay in big, marching steps and confronted Pollard.

“What?” he demanded, less than professionally.

“Can you help me with this laceration?” asked Pollard.

Hugh blinked at her. “A laceration? You called me over here for a laceration?”

“I did,” said Pollard, overly calmly.

“You could repair this in your sleep. You don’t need my help.”

“I don’t. But neither does he,” said Pollard, nodding toward Paul.

Hugh looked to where Paul was being tended by the nurse. He was groggy, but responsive. His vitals were within normal limits on the monitor.

“He just woke up!”

Tracy gave Hugh a look. “Exactly.”

“I need to be there. He needs to see a familiar face. And…”

Tracy interrupted. “Does he?”

“Yes!”

Hugh nearly shouted. Tracy had just finished the laceration repair, so she pulled him into the doctor’s office behind her and waved off the crewman she had been working on. It was a testament to how involved Hugh was in their conversation that he hadn’t paid them any mind. The ensign scurried off, glad to have stopped bleeding and to get out of the way of the arguing doctors, while Tracy shut the office door behind them.

“Hugh, stop,” she said, voice deadly serious.

Her tone brought Hugh up short. He stared at her for a long moment before speaking.

“But…”

“I know you want to be with him. You want to reassure him. You want to make sure he’s okay. I get it. I do. But let me ask you one thing, Doctor Culber. Did you even notice his heart rate?”

She put just enough emphasis on his title to really get Hugh’s attention. He stared at her, wide-eyed, then blinked a few times, but did not respond otherwise.

Tracy sighed.

“That’s what I thought.”

Hugh swallowed. “It was high, wasn’t it?”

Tracy nodded. “Higher than it should have been for recovery.”

Hugh looked away and blinked rapidly a few times. Tracy had the good grace to look away as he fought back tears. After a moment, Hugh spoke, voice ragged.

“He’s afraid of me.”

“You don’t know that,” said Tracy.

“I saw his face, Tracy. He was terrified.”

Tracy laid a hand on Hugh’s shoulder and shook it slightly.

“Hey, you said it yourself. He just woke up. He has no idea what’s happening. He may not even remember you being there before he went under, so…”

“So he might think I’m a hallucination?”

Tracy shrugged. “Maybe.”

“And that’s better how?”

“I don’t know, Hugh,” said Tracy. “I just know that he was overwhelmed just then. And so were you. Maybe it’s best if you give him some space. Let him recover before dealing with...” she gestured at Hugh’s chest… “this.”

“But… I need to… I want to…”

Hugh was nearly stammering until Tracy interrupted.

“I’m taking over his case, Hugh. At least for now.”

Hugh shook his head. “No.”

“Yes, Hugh. You know it’s the right thing to do. You’re too involved. And there are extenuating circumstances here.”

Hugh shook his head again. “No. Don’t make me pull rank.”

“Don’t make me have you declared unfit.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“Tracy…”

“Hugh, he’ll be fine. You did a good job.”

“I know,” said Hugh. “And I trust you, but…”

Tracy smiled. “But he’s the love of your life and you just now remembered that and you’re freaking out because we’re nine hundred years in the future and things might not work out?”

“Something like that,” murmured Hugh, flopping into one of the office chairs.

“Yeah, there’s a lot to unpack here, Hugh. I’m not going to pretend this is going to be easy. But go home. Get some rest. I’ll comm you if anything changes, physically. The rest, well, you’re going to have to work that out later. But we need him healthy first.”

Hugh scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the day-old stubble there, and slowly nodded.

“Yeah. I know,” he mumbled. “It’s just… he’s afraid of me, Tracy!”

“Give him time, Hugh.”

“But I was… the things I did… I can’t believe I…”

Tracy knelt in front of Hugh and took his hands in hers.

“I know. But he loves you. Just give him time, Hugh.”

Hugh nodded again. “Okay. Promise you’ll comm if anything changes?”

“Promise.”

“Guess I could use a shower and a change of clothes.”

Tracy gave Hugh an appraising look. “That you could.”

“Okay. I’ll go. For a few hours. But you need relief, too. I’ll take over at…” Hugh glanced at the chronometer on the wall… “twenty-one hundred?”

“Four hours?”

“It’s something,” said Hugh, sheepishly.

“Eight,” argued Tracy.

“Six?” offered Hugh.

“I’ll take it,” agreed Pollard. “Now, get out of here and let me do my job.”

Hugh stood slowly.

“Alright. Comm me? With any news?”

Tracy pushed him gently toward the door.

“Yes. I promise. Now get out of here.”

Hugh allowed himself to be propelled out of the office and toward the outer sickbay doors.

As he left, he took one last, long look back over his shoulder.

Paul was half sitting up, talking to his nurse. His vitals appeared normal. He no longer looked scared, though he did look rather grumpy. Hugh took that as a good sign.

He knew that Paul would be fine, physically. He’d likely be discharged to quarters when Hugh returned in six hours. Starfleet Medical was nothing if not efficient. As for the rest, he had to admit Doctor Pollard was right. They’d have to work that out later. He knew it was best if he left. For a lot of reasons.

Still, he hesitated.

And as Paul’s nurse leaned over to get an instrument from a tray, his lingering was rewarded.

Paul had been too preoccupied with his annoyance at the nurse to notice Hugh’s walk to the door. But now, with nothing to keep him busy, Paul’s eyes scanned the room. They quickly landed on Hugh.

Paul sat up straighter, and their eyes met.

Hugh offered a shaky half smile. Paul’s expression went completely blank for a long moment. Then he blinked slowly and gave Hugh the slightest of nods before the nurse blocked his view again.

Hugh nodded back, even though Paul couldn’t see it.

Then he slipped out the door.

A nod wasn’t much. But it was something. It was enough.

Hugh held on to that all the way back to his quarters, where he showered and, despite his anxiety over Paul and their situation, fell asleep nearly immediately. Sometimes, one couldn’t argue with the human body. Hugh knew that more than most.

After all, he was a doctor. An experienced one. Experienced enough to know when to step aside, even.

And just then, his body needed rest, and he wasn’t needed in sickbay.

So he slept.

Because he was exhausted, and because there was only one healer Paul needed.

And that healer wasn’t Hugh Culber. It wasn’t even Tracy Pollard.

It was Time.


(the jack is silent)

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