Chapter Text
Hugh nearly collides with Ensign Tilly on his way into his quarters. It’s a sign of how tired he is from pulling a double shift that involved hours of surgery after an accident in one of the science labs (plasma burns and percussive injuries should never go together) that he doesn’t even register the presence of someone in the doorway until Tilly’s surprised, “Oh shit! I mean I’m sorry Doctor Culber, I didn’t, I mean-“ cuts through the haze of exhaustion in his brain.
By that point, both of her hands are gripping his shoulders tightly to steady him as he sways like an old-fashioned sailing ship in a tempest, still apologizing profusely.
“-I know I should look where I’m going, but what are the odds that someone is coming through a door in the opposite direction-“
Hugh blinks slowly, props himself up on the bulkhead, and tries to form words.
”Ensign. You’re...it’s fine.”
The world is greying out at the edges, and the part of his mind that’s still functional registers the look of alarm on Tilly’s face, the way his pulse is beating too loudly in his ears, and unhelpfully informs him that he’s about to pass out. Paul appears at Tilly’s shoulder, and Hugh watches a handful of PADDs hit the deck and scatter.
Paul must have dropped them, he decides absently, I hope Tilly doesn’t trip over them.
Both of their mouths are moving, but he can’t hear anything over the dull ringing in his head. He thinks he manages an apology, but his lips and tongue feel wooden and unresponsive.
The last thing he sees before everything goes dark is Paul’s concerned face.
****
”Hugh? Hugh!”
His brain feels like jellied Denevan custard, wobbly and dense. He’s lying on a carpeted surface, but he can’t remember how he got there. It would be a lot easier to think without Paul’s voice saying his name insistently and the hand shaking his shoulder.
”...stop it,” he mumbles, gratified when the hand doing the shaking moves up to cup his cheek instead.
”Oh thank fuck,” Tilly’s voice comes from his left side, relieved and nervous all at once, “should I still comm Sickbay?”
Paul opens his mouth to reply, but Hugh beats him to it.
”No, thank you, I’ll be fine.”
”You just fainted,” his partner points out unnecessarily, clearly torn between listening to Hugh or telling Tilly to get help.
He helps Hugh to sit up, keeping a solicitous arm around his shoulders while Tilly dashes over to the synthesizer for water. When she returns, Paul’s more or less managed to maneuver Hugh onto the low couch in front of the viewports, and he accepts the glass gratefully.
”Really, it’s okay,” he tells them between slow mouthfuls, “minor vasovagal syncope, not unexpected.”
Two brilliant engineers blink blankly back at him.
”I’ve been standing for the last ten hours,” he explains when the staring turns awkward, “didn’t stop for lunch or dinner, so a little bit of heart irregularity and my blood pressure dropped.”
”Heart irreg- oh! Oh, that’s my fault, I’m so sorry-“
He raises a hand before Tilly can pick up steam.
”No need to apologize Ensign, no harm done.”
“Ummm, right. Okay. I should go and uhh, let you two...you know. Whatever you were going to do together. Oh shi- I didn’t mean that you were going to do that, two consenting adults in a relationship of course you can, but I meant-“ Tilly pauses for breath, then slaps her hands over her mouth, cutting off the flow of words.
There’s an uncharacteristically fond look in Paul’s eyes when he tugs on Tilly’s elbow until she stands and gently shoos her out of their quarters.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks once the door swishes closed, frown reappearing on his brow.
“Yeah babe, I’m fine,” Hugh hastens to reassure him, tugging his collar open and unzipping his jacket.
“Wanna talk about it?”
He shakes his head, shrugging out of the jacket and sighing.
“Long day, I just want to eat something and climb in bed with you.”
Paul bends down for a belated kiss hello, and Hugh can feel him smiling against his lips. It’s the small, soft smile that he only lets out in the privacy of their quarters, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle when he pulls back enough to make eye contact.
”I think I can arrange something for that.”