New Fic: The Scientific Method

[jackwabbit]

The Scientific Method

Fandom: Star Trek Discovery
Rated: G
Category: Vignette. Culmets. Angst. Romance.
Word Count: 2441.
Season: Post-two, Pre-three. (Probably? Inter-season speculation.)
Spoilers: General Series Knowledge Through The End of Season Two.
Summary: Science is real. And it can save the day if you let it.
Note: Follows “If All the World’s a Stage, Identity is Nothing but a Costume.”

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.

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Paul had been expecting it.

Ever since he’d managed to get a hold of a PADD and confirm the current duty roster on the ship, he’d known it was only a matter of time. Still, he snapped to attention (as much as the drugs and his chest would allow, which ended up being a half sitting position on his bed) when it finally happened.

His nurse was at his bedside just then, droning on about something, but Paul didn’t hear a word. He hadn’t been listening before,  but the moment Hugh stepped through the doors of the secondary medical unit currently serving as Paul’s prison, his comprehension dropped to zero.

Hugh’s eyes scanned the room until the found Paul. As soon as they did, they froze. Paul was staring right at him. They held eye contact for a long moment, then Hugh’s long strides brought him across the room in a matter of seconds.

As he approached, the nurse stepped back.  “I’ll check in with you later,” he said, yielding Paul’s bedside to Hugh.

Paul didn’t respond. He just continued to stare at Hugh, eyes wide and a more than a little wary.

Hugh looked much the same. Neither man spoke for a long moment. Then Hugh finally found his voice.

“Hi,” he breathed.

Paul blinked and responded in kind. “Hi.”

Another beat passed, then Hugh broke eye contact and looked up at the monitors above Paul’s bed.

“So,” he said, “how are you feeling?”

Paul shrugged one shoulder a little.

“Okay, I guess. Pretty good, really. All things considered.”

Hugh made a quiet, strangled noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a sob.

“Paul,” he choked out, voice rough.

Paul knew that voice. It was the one Hugh used when he was scared, usually because Paul was being or had been an idiot.

“Hey,” Paul said, “it’s okay.”

Hugh shook his head, eyes focusing on the blanket over Paul’s chest.

“Paul, it was bad.”

Paul nodded. “I know. But it’s okay,” he said, lowering his head a little to try to catch Hugh’s eyes, then emphasizing his next words. “I’m okay.

Hugh looked up, eyes shiny with unshed tears. A muscle in his neck twitched and his jaw trembled the slightest amount. He didn’t say anything, but as he held Paul’s gaze, Paul’s expression slowly changed from one of reassurance back to the one of wary anxiety he’d had when Hugh first saw him. Paul leaned back in his bed. He maintained eye contact, but he put some space between himself and Hugh.

And that’s when Hugh knew the answer to the question he’d not yet asked. The one he frankly didn’t want to ask - especially now. But he took a few calming breaths, then swallowed and asked it anyway. He figured there was no sense in delaying the inevitable.

“Yeah, but are we?” he whispered.

Paul took a deep breath in and out. The doctor in Hugh noticed he seemed to do so without difficulty, and Hugh nearly smiled about that. But the husband in him was more concerned with the fact that Paul’s expression hardened before he looked down at his hands in his lap.

Paul didn’t answer right away, and as the seconds ticked by, Hugh felt like someone was slowly tightening a vice around his chest. He watched Paul’s hands, hoping for them to start moving with their usual nervous tics, but they were completely still.

That worried Hugh more than anything else, especially as the silence continued.

But eventually, Paul’s right thumb started tapping on his left hand and he looked up again.

He met Hugh’s eyes, and when he finally spoke, his voice was a whisper.

“I don’t know,” he said, and the sadness of his expression almost overwhelmed Hugh.

Hugh sniffed and nodded sadly.

“That’s fair,” he mumbled.

Paul chuckled sadly.

“Yeah,” agreed Paul, starting to get some of his usual animation back. “I mean, on one hand, you’re here.” He emphasized the last word, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.

“That I am,” confirmed Hugh.

Paul chuckled again, this time with a bit of actual mirth.

“You know, I did wonder if I imagined you.”

Hugh laughed for a second.

“That’s understandable.”

Paul gave Hugh an annoyed look, but there was no real ire behind it.

“Oh, so you think I’m crazy?”

Hugh laughed again, somehow, and this time, it lasted longer.

“Honey, I know you’re crazy,” he joked.

Paul actually giggled at that, and for just a moment, it felt like the old days, with Hugh teasing him and him loving every bit of it.

But he was brought back to reality when the left side of his chest seized up from his laughter.

“Ow,” he muttered, putting pressure on the spot with his right hand as he winced.

Hugh switched to what Paul had always called his “doctor mode” immediately.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you need more pain meds?”

Paul rubbed gently at his chest. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Just… don’t make me laugh.”

Hugh sobered.

“Okay. Then what’s on the other hand?”

Paul knitted his brows at Hugh.

“What?”

“You said, ‘on the one hand, you’re here.’ What’s on the other?”

Paul continued to rub absently at his chest as his smile disappeared. A noise across the room caught his attention and he glanced away from Hugh. It wasn’t lost on Hugh that when the commotion settled, Paul’s eyes drifted down to his lap again. As a muscle began to twitch in Paul’s cheek, Hugh wondered if he’d been right to remind Paul that he clearly had mixed feelings on the subject of their relationship, whatever it might be. And when Paul’s breathing sped up and became choppy; when his torso started to shake just a little, Hugh couldn’t take it anymore. He knew those signs. Paul was doing his best not to cry.

Hugh reacted without thought. He reached out a hand and laid it across Paul’s forearm.

Paul’s response was immediate. He flinched away from Hugh, breaking the contact, as his eyes slowly raised to glare at Hugh. The level of anger in his expression shocked Hugh. Whatever he was expecting from Paul just then, that wasn’t it. He took an actual step back away from Paul with wide eyes.

Just then, Paul’s nurse appeared in Hugh’s peripheral vision. He called out to Paul.

“You okay, Commander?” His eyes flitted back and forth between Hugh and Paul a few times before settling on Hugh. He was clearly trying to decide how much trouble he’d be in for kicking a senior doctor out of his ward for the sake of his patient.

Paul continued to glare at Hugh for a moment longer, but expression softened some as he took a deep breath. Then his eyes flicked to the nurse and he nodded curtly.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“You sure?”

Paul nodded again. “I’m sure. Thank you.”

The nurse nodded back, then gave Hugh another long look before wandering away.

Hugh barely registered the exchange. He was still dwelling on Paul’s reaction to his touch.

“Paul?” he asked, voice trembling.

Paul’s attention focused back on Hugh, and the anger was mostly gone. In its place, the sadness had returned. He offered Hugh a sad smile as he bowed his head to his chest.

“But you left me, Hugh.”

Hugh closed his eyes and swallowed. Then he took a deep breath and when he opened his eyes again, they were a mixture of sadness and fear. Maybe Reno had been right. Maybe his window of opportunity had closed. Maybe it was too late. He was so caught up in his fears that he almost missed it when Paul continued.

“Twice,” he whispered, raising his head again to look Hugh in the eye. “The first time,” Paul went on, voice gaining strength as he did, “it was no one’s fault. Except Voq’s, I guess. But the second time? That was you.”

Hugh bit his lower lip and nodded, face screwing up as he held back his own tears.

“I know,” he acknowledged, “and I’m sorry, Paul. I wish I could change what happened. But I know that I can’t. And I.. I just… everything was… god, I don’t know…’

Paul cut him off. “I know. And I get it. I really do. You’re not you. Or not the old you. Or… or whatever. I don’t know. I just… I had you back, Hugh. And you… you didn’t want me.”

Hugh sighed. “It’s not that simple, Paul.”

“From my perspective, it really is,”  countered Paul, and Hugh knew he was in trouble. He’d seen the expression currently on Paul’s face a hundred times through the years. It was the patented Stamet’s stare. The one Paul used in briefings with captains who wouldn’t listen to the science. The one that came out when he knew he was absolutely right and would brook no argument.

So Hugh didn’t argue. Instead, he took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together for a moment, then stepped closer to Paul again.

“I can see that,” he conceded. “But you know why I came back? You know what I want now?”

“What?” asked Paul, a slight challenge in his tone and his expression unchanged.

Hugh took another deep breath in and let it out slowly.

“A chance,” he said.

Paul’s brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything, so Hugh continued.

“Just a chance. That’s all I’m asking, Paul. I know that with everything… well, it might work out. And it might not,”  he said, shrugging. “But I had to know.”

“I get that,” said Paul, with a thoughtful look. “Scientific curiosity and all.”

Hugh pressed his lips together and blinked rapidly a few times. The hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. He looked like he either wanted to strangle Paul or hug him, but internally he wasn’t conflicted at all. Because Hugh understood what Paul was trying to say with his seemingly-detached response. Hugh knew this version of Paul all too well. This was the Paul who deflected things that were too real with sarcasm and entendre. The one who hid behind science when things hit too close to home. Fortunately, Hugh was a doctor. He also understood the scientific method.

“Something like that,” he conceded. “Willing to help me satisfy it?”

Paul pushed his cheek out with his tongue as he thought for a moment. Then he gave Hugh an appraising look and nodded slowly.

“I’m always up to test a new hypothesis,” he said. And then, more slowly, “perhaps we could… run a series of experiments.”

Hugh’s smile could’ve powered the warp core for days, but he took his cue from Paul and kept his voice level as he responded. He knew this game well, and he could play by Paul’s rules.

“That could work,” he said, “we take it one variable at a time.”

Paul nodded, a slight wariness creeping back into his voice. “Within the defined parameters, of course.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” agreed Hugh.

“And we throw out any previous assumptions. We start fresh.”

At this, Paul gave Hugh a meaningful look, and Hugh felt a hitch in his chest as he nodded.

“Yeah. We do the work,” he said. “From scratch.”

It took Paul a minute, but he nodded back.

“Well, then, doctor. It looks like you have yourself a research partner.”

Paul gave Hugh a tight-lipped smile, and Hugh grinned back. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment before they were interrupted.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” came the voice of Paul’s nurse, who suddenly appeared opposite Hugh at Paul’s bedside. “I’m afraid it’s time for my patient’s next round of meds. And I’m sure you want him to get his rest, right, doctor?”

The nurse put just enough emphasis on the last word of his question to remind Hugh of his professional duties toward Paul. He glanced at Paul’s biosign monitor and then looked back at Paul, noting how his eyes drooped at the edges and how his hand had unconsciously drifted back over his left hemithorax. He stepped back from Paul’s bed slightly.

“Oh, yes. Of course,” he said, gesturing toward the nurse to do his job. “I should probably get going. You should rest, Paul. We’ll talk more later.”

Paul didn’t answer, as he was too busy turning his head to give the nurse access to his neck.

Two hyposprays later, he was out like a light.

Hugh turned to the nurse.

“Thank you.”

The nurse nodded. “Just doing my job, doc. I waited as long as I could, but he’s hurting. Even if he tries to hide it.”

Hugh snorted.

“He does that.”

“Don’t we all? Now, are you going to go eat, shower, and at least try to sleep, or am I going to have to get a higher up in here to pull rank on your ass?”

Hugh stared at the nurse in shock. He wasn’t used to such insubordination. But the nurse was nonplussed. It was as if Reno had changed professions and was staring him down.

After a moment, he chuckled.

“I like you,” he said.

The nurse blinked at him – just once.

“Great. Good night, doctor.”

Hugh laughed and held his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I can take a hint.”

The nurse looked at Hugh expectantly. When Hugh didn’t move, he nodded toward the door.

Hugh laughed again and then turned on his heel without another word. Just as he reached the door, the nurse called out to him.

“Doctor Culber?”

Hugh wheeled around, already looking for changes in Paul’s condition. But there was nothing of concern, so he looked at the nurse questioningly.

The nurse met his eyes, then looked at Paul for a moment, then back at Hugh.

“Good luck,” he said, with an encouraging nod.

“Thanks,” he answered. Then, with his very best Stamets stare in place, he continued.

“But I don’t need luck. I’ve got science.”

Hugh turned and left then, but if he’d been looking, he might have seen Paul’s eyes barely flicker open for a moment as a ghost of a smile crossed his lips.

As it was, he spent his walk to the mess, his entire time in the shower, and the rest of his evening thinking of possible hypotheses to test with his new/old partner.

It wasn’t until he was half asleep in bed that the winner came to him. And as he drifted off, he grinned.

Because they say the third time’s a charm.

And he’d damn well prove that if he could.