Notes: This work is an unofficial sequel to the story "Just A Little Thing" by Helen8462
The title derives from one of the choruses in the song Plain Sailing Weather by Frank Turner
"The problem with falling in love in late night bars
Is that there's always more nights, there's always more bars.
The problem with showing your lover your scars
Is that everybody's lover is covered in scars."
Dr. Hugh Culber poked at his food in the mess hall of the U.S.S. Discovery. It was his first proper meal since being cleared from sickbay. He was hungry when he'd arrived but the looks he got from the rest of the off-duty crewmembers had soured his appetite. It wasn't the ones who seemed uncertain that bothered him. He wasn't too sure how he felt about this whole 'coming back from the dead' thing himself. It was the ones who simply nodded at him as he entered as if nothing had changed. It astounded him that so many people seemed to react to him having literally been brought back from the dead by what was, in essence, a galaxy-wide fungus wasn't all that unusual. Though perhaps, given some of the things this crew had seen in the months since his murder perhaps there was some degree of truth to that. He went ahead and took a bite of his food, something that he hadn't eaten since before he died, to see if it tasted different. He chewed slowly. While he was chewing, he looked up and saw a smiling but nervous looking Sylvia Tilly silently inquiring if she could sit at his table. He considered just ignoring her, but decided that being confused about who or what he was now was no excuse to be an ass. He motioned for her to sit.
"Thank you," she said. Culber braced himself for a wave of questions about what death was like, debating with himself if he should just respond with a line he'd once heard from a work of comedy from the 20th century; "Death? It's like being on holiday with a group of Germans." When no such questions came, Culber was surprised, but also relieved. Not that Tilly had no questions whatsoever.
"Glad to finally be out of sickbay?" she asked.
Culber nodded after swallowing his food. It didn't taste any different than he remembered, but that did nothing to make him feel less confused. He tried another bite.
"I'm glad to see that nobody's pestering you about what you went through," Tilly said. "I wouldn't have been shocked to see a crowd around you when I came in."
"Would you have joined them?" Culber asked.
"No. Well... No. I mean, I was kind o there, right? I don't how it felt, or how it feels, but I know the science of how it happened." Tilly poked at her own food. "I also know why my brain is being so stupid right now."
"What do you mean?"
TIlly laughed nervously, as she often did when she was about to say something that would lead to her looking embarrassed. He always felt sorry for her when she did that. He wondered if perhaps Paul didn't tell her enough how much he respected her.
"It's just... if someone else, say someone else who had died and had been physically connected to someone or something connected to the mycelial network had been there I'm sure the copy of my dead friend would've mentioned her. Or you might've seen her maybe." Tilly shook her head. "Like I said, my brain is stupid."
Culber had to suppress a small smile. He was actually grateful to be confused about something besides his own existence, but allowing that to show would risk insulting his crewmate and Paul's friend.
"Who are you talking about?" he asked.
"So, remember last year, when we had the tardigrade on board?"
"Kind of hard to forget, especially after... Wait, are you referring to Commander Landry?"
Tilly nodded, then looked down as if trying to solve a puzzle on her food plate.
"I know you aren't asking, but if it helps, I didn't see her, or anyone else there, until your 'friend' showed up with you, Burnham, and Paul."
"It should help. Probably won't know until I go to sleep if it worked. Been having a lot of really vivid dreams about going back into the network to get her out."
"I never knew the two of you were close," Culber said, decided to try his drink this time. It was something he had actually hated when he'd been alive before. He wondered if it would taste different this time. It didn't, and he winced. He was relieved that Tilly didn't seem to notice.
"We weren't, not really. And I'd never thought we could've been, so that only makes me feel weirder about it. I mean, it was just a one-night stand, you know? Two ships passing in the night, and neither of us knew we'd both end up on Discovery and..." Tilly's eyes went wide. "Oh, shit, I'd promised her I wouldn't tell anyone."
Culber wasn't one-hundred percent certain, but he imagined he looked shocked at what he'd just heard.
Did not see that coming, he thought.
"Um..." was all he had to say in response.
"I am so sorry," Tilly said, blushing from embarrassment. "I shouldn't be pestering you with this. I should talk to a therapist. Or maybe just shut up." She started to get up, but Culber reached a hand out and motioned for her to stay.
"No, it's okay. I mean, psychiatry isn't my field, but all doctors do a psych rotation before we're allowed to graduate. if it makes you feel any better, dreams don't really mean that much to most species that have them. It's all just random images and sounds that occasionally by sheer coincidence manage to tumble together into something that resembles a narrative. You're thinking about Landry because how she died was tangentially related to how I came back. That's all."
Tilly nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. I mean, it would be pretty stupid to not think about someone for months than to randomly decide you were actually in love with them the whole time. Which is why it totally would happen to me."
Culber sighed. "Look, just think about what I said. Like I said, psychiatry isn't my field of expertise. But I'm sure that you'll get past this soon enough. And as long as it doesn't affect your work, don't dwell too much on it. I'm not saying forget Landry, I remember her too. I'm the one who had to note her death in the ship's records. I remember every patient I couldn't save. But I'm not haunted by them. I wouldn't last very long in this job if I did."
Tilly smiled at that. "So you're definitely going to be one of our doctor's again?"
Culber frowned. "That... I don't know the answer to that yet. Sorry."
"No, that's okay," Tilly said. "Just 'cause I witnessed it doesn't mean I know exactly what you went through was like. Just do what you need to do. And I'll try to do what I need to do. Thanks, Doctor Culber." Tilly quickly finished her lunch, then got up and left the mess hall. Culber looked down, and realized his food had gotten cold. He decided since he'd hardly eaten any of it he'd just recycle it, get a bland but harmless meal bar, and go back to his quarters to get some sleep.
Despite Dr. Culber's assertions, Tilly found herself only thinking about Ellen Landry more and more as the days went by. It didn't overwhelm her or affect her work as she'd feared, but she supposed that was to be expected when what going on around the unwelcome recurring fantasies waking her up early every day included briefly becoming a fugitive from Starfleet, watching the tension Michael and her adopted brother, a trip to a restricted planet, and now Admiral Cornwell was aboard and aiding in an attempt to sneak aboard Section 31's secret headquarters. Tilly nearly walked right into the Admiral as she made her way to the mess hall for some caffeine before going to engineering.
"Oh, I am so sorry Admiral, I wasn't looking where I was going. I am so sorry, I just needed coffee. I- Oh, are you-"
"I'm fine, Ensign," Cornwell said, almost laughing. "You didn't actually hit me, it was a near miss. Relax. And maybe skip the coffee today, you seem a bit wired as is."
"Right, Admiral. Sorry, Admiral," Tilly said.
"And don't stand at attention so hard, you're going to pass out."
Tilly exhaled. "Right, sorry. Didn't sleep well last night, ma'am."
"I don't blame you," Cornwell said. "I didn't exactly wake up yesterday expecting to be aiding and abetting fugitives. Some days it feels like my life just stopped being anything approximating normal since the war."
"I can understand that," Tilly said."though it's not really the run on Section 31's base that worries me. We've survived so much weird sh- I mean stuff this past year, sneaking onto a top-secret Starbase almost seems mundane by comparison."
"Oh?" Cornwell said. "What is troubling you?"
Tilly blushed. "I really shouldn't be bothering you with my issues, Admiral. Besides, like Dr. Culber said, it's just dreams, and dreams don't really mean anything. I shouldn't be letting them get to me."
"Well," Cornwell said, "Culber's not wrong about that, but just because something shouldn't affect you doesn't mean it didn't. I was a psychiatrist a long time before I became an Admiral. I may be a bit out of practice, but let me walk you to where you're going and you can talk to me. Maybe I can help. And you'd be helping me too since I could use the distraction, so consider that an order."
Tilly gulped.
"Um, well..." Tilly proceded to, as quietly as she could manage in case there were any other crewmembers within earshot, relate to the Admiral about her sudden new found feelings regarding Commander Ellen Landry, and how the two of them had shared an, in Tilly's words, a brief tryst in San Fransisco before their postings to the Discovery.
"It was hard to say no," Tilly said, wistfully, "Just the way her voice sounded when she said 'You and I are going to have marvelous fun tonight.' She shook her head. "Sorry, too much information."
"Only a little," Cornwell said. "But I think what you're feeling is perfectly normal given the circumstances. Since you're telling me all this, let me tell you something I've only shared with my closest friend back on Earth. I felt much the same way after you all got back from the Terran Empire universe."
Tilly titled her head. "About Landry?"
Cornwell laughed. "No, no, I've actually never met her. I meant Lorca. Our Lorca, I mean. When I found out about everything, for weeks I would have these fantasies, sometimes even while I was awake, about storming into that universe and finding him. Sometimes dead, sometimes alive, but either way I always felt a brief sense of closure afterwards. I think that was always the worst part of it. My Lorca almost certainly died the day that other Lorca came to our universe. But how, that's a question we'll never really have an answer to, will we? Did Terran Lorca kill him? Did my Lorca end up over there and was killed by the Terran's chasing the alternate version of the Buran? With both Lorcas dead and the existence of the Terran Empire universe classified, we have no way of finding out. And that frustrates me. For the rest of my life, I'm sure there will always be that little voice in the back of my head telling me that Gabriel, my Gabriel, is alive and waiting for us to come and get him. But I am still able to function, not just as a Starfleet Admiral, but as a human being, even with that doubt. And I'm sure you can too, even if from time to time you still have dreams about marching into the mycelial network looking for Ellen."
Tilly nodded, surprised at the Admiral's revelation, vague as it had been worded, about her past relationship with Captain Lorca, but grateful for the trust it took for her to talk about it as openly as she did.
"Thanks Admiral," she said. "That really does help. Both you and Dr. Culber have been very good about all this. Kind of makes me wish I wasn't too empathetic to be a therapist. I'd just end up crying all the time."
Cornwell smiled and nodded. "It can end up that way if you do it for too long, too. I didn't stop doing it because I hated it, I just needed a break. In hindsight maybe the Admiralty wasn't the best alternative, but here we are."
Tilly smiled. "I think you're pretty good at both, ma'am."
Cornwell stopped walking and looked contemplative. "I guess I am. Who knows, maybe once this whole thing with Control and Section 31 is over I may go back to practicing. How many Admirals does Starfleet really need, anyway?"
Tilly couldn't help but laugh at that.