Different Kind of Normal

Posted on Sun Nov 2nd, 2025 @ 11:02am by Commander Benjamin Jamesson & Ensign Isaac 'Zac' Hughes

Mission: Royal Mail
Location: Messhall
Timeline: Day 450
3292 words - 6.6 OF Standard Post Measure

"Well, they say it's never too late in the day for breakfast."

The voice that interrupted the solitary engineer's thoughts was not the kind to intrude lightly. For what felt like weeks, Isaac had meant to put time aside to catch up with the man who was suddenly not his Commanding Officer but the thought only seemed to occur to him when it was the end of a shift. By then, it either felt too late to impose or he himself was exhausted to the point of not being the best company. There had been lenience in his scheduling tonight and, as it happened, he had tracked Ben down in the one place Zac was overdue to visit himself; the empty messhall.

Very early on, this had been a pretty standard meeting spot for the pair of them, especially at this hour. Avoiding mealtimes had been quietly intentional on both their parts, a reprieve from being surrounded by familiar faces that looked right through them. Isaac in particular was unknown to this version of the crew and it was a matter of considerable adjustment to restart acquaintences over. He hadn't seen Ben here for a while though, probably because he had adjusted his schedule to eat with Nish.

Not a very friendly oversight, when he stopped to think about it.

As he hovered nearby with his tray in one hand and an ill-advised coffee-substitute in the other, waiting to see if now was a good time to catch up, the doctor's conversation starter referred to the fact that the remaining food seemed to resemble some sort of omelete. Isaac wasn't sure he trusted that approximation to live up to expectations but even a fool's hope had merit sometimes. As Ben looked up, Zac offered him a tired half-smile and gestured to the empty seat with his mug. "Room for one more?"

Benjamin had not realised that he was no longer alone until the voice crept into his thoughts. He had been deep in his thoughts thinking about another time a d place before this alternative universe, before Calanthe, before the Atlantis and before Earth Starfleet.

He had been thinking about a random day in April 2152 when he had been swimming to a shore after tipping over his kayak. It had been a nice day, nothing special but the memory had drawn him in for its normality. He blinked as he looked up at Hughes.

“I am on nigh… I am working late.” He started to lie before he shrugged. He kicked the chair back slowly and nodded. “Always.” He declared.

Just as he always had, Isaac settled into the seat with minimal fuss and the kind of quiet camaraderie that didn't demand much by way of immediate conversation. As much as it played to the specifics of his profession, it was more a case of having chosen well to suit a natural disposition. As was fairly standard, he took the obligatory moment to familiarise himself with the food on his place, attempted a few rudimentary guesses as to what was actually in the omelete, and succumbed to the typical resolution not to think about it too hard. The first bite wasn't terrible, and lead to several more before the doctor said anything more.

"So, the meal-delivery service has the night off, huh?"

An open door without any intent to intrude. Isaac only knew of Calanthe's tendency to bypass protocol and waltz out of the messhall with food because he'd been roped into the role of lookout on at least two occasions. Adequate nutrition, she had argued, was a medical imperative and he'd not really been able to think of a solid argument against that. Rather than leave the matter poised at the more delicate aspect, Isaac gestured towards the other man's plate and asked, "Any good?"

Ben found himself pausing his cutlery’s route to his mouth at the mention of meal delivery and frowned. He had actively tried to disinterest her from doing it but he found himself longing for moments with her which left him torn. He did not say anything in response, it was a poke at something he was not sure he wanted to speak to the other man around. “It’s food.” He had not really been tasting it having in his own thoughts. “What about yours?”

"I have some doubts that this was ever an egg but..." Circumspect, Isaac hunched a shoulder and continued eating. "Starvation is less appetising, so there's that."

Back when their situation had been far different, and their mutual responsibilities had determined a professional relationship that warranted constant updates and debriefing, Isaac had found Ben to be easy to talk to in regards to all matters aside from his own health. It had been a relief, in all honesty, when the Commander had caved to the notion of a romantic relationship because at least it had reassured his doctor that someone was picking up the pieces after a particularly rough patch. That the situation was still somewhat apt turned the benefit on its head, however, and so here he was, back to square one without any way of knowing how to reach a man who buried his pain beneath the obligation to serve.

"They tell me you've invented a whole new department." Eve now, it was easier to just keep it focused on work.

"Got bored and this isn't my ship." The man answered instantly before he looked up at the man and softened slightly. "I had to do something other than wasting my days on nights. Someone needed to focus on the operational parts of the ship, and I and these engines are not... we do not gel. We both know we are not each other's thing," he said quietly knowing it sounded like he was losing his mind, but he hoped the man would understand enough to not call zh'Kenarh to have him confined to his quarters.

"No, it really isn't your ship."

It was a quiet response, one that conveyed an understanding forged from the deepest empathy. Neither of them would likely have been able to explain it but Hughes was acutely aware that somewhere in his list of credentials were a few documents that heralded him the current leading expert on the way it messed with the head. Oddly enough, none of his training had included anything like this.

"It's been a busy few months though. Nish calculated how long it's been since we arrived the other day." Zac's forehead flickered with the faint worry of a frown. "My estimate was far too ambitious, I'm afraid. I could have sworn it was far longer than it has been."

“And how many days has she come up with?” The man had lost track and had not wanted to look into it again. He was not sure that it would help his moods or mental health to tack it but once in a while learning about it would be okay.

"Oh god, you think I remember specifics? She had it down to the second."

With a fond chuckle, Isaac took the time to replay the conversation in his head, which was one of the many that tended to rapid-fire back and forth until they succumbed to a strange trajectory neither he nor Nish could really trace back to a point of origin. Sometimes, they talked just to fill the silence, to keep each other company. To create reasons to laugh. To supply her with a load of ammunition to hurl back at him at a later date when her memory once again outstripped his.

"I want to say it's getting close to seven months. I suppose that's still a decent chunk of time, it just...feels longer to me. Of course, that could just be a coping mechanism." The doctor's soft-spoken acknowledgement carried some consideration for the fact he was professionally obliged to toss out those words once in a while. "Another one to add to the list."

The engineer raised a small smile as he thought about that time. They were getting close to having been on this Atlantis longer than their own and that was going to be a painful moment. “It’s a long time.” He finally decided quietly picking at the food a little before he took another bite. “And how you been?” Ben wondered quietly trying to keep the conversation going on his terms. Zac knew him and knew his avoidance so he felt like it was a cat and mouse game trying to keep on the right side of the game.

It was an overture, one Hughes had learned to recognise and run with because it was typically the best compromise he was going to get from the other man. As was usual, the doctor seemed circumspect, his expression a mixture of honest fatigue and pragmatic calm. "Still searching for the book they wrote on how to deal with any of this. I might have to give up at this point and write it myself. It's difficult to conceptualise," Zac added. "Even Nish finds it hard, I think, and she's the one dealing with a carbon copy actually sat at the dinner table. It's complicated to grieve," he added, and here his eye contact became pointed. "When the daily dose of reality wants to keep insisting that none of it ever happened and we're still where we've always been."

“It is going to be hard. Grief is hard but that grief is shoved down by reality every second.” Benjamin said quietly finally saying something that actually highlighted that deep down he was struggling. “That’s the hardest part I think, that it just feels like a dream and things are okay but I remember things differently. I remember the ship having different changes after we lost the armoury department but here it was science and the MACOs.”

"Close enough isn't always good enough," Isaac quoted, a gem courtesy of his grandfather even though the old man had usually put it in a context to discourage taking shortcuts. "Closure would be easier if we were back on Earth where the true confrontation exists. There is a bit of a sense of treading water at the moment."

For each of the three, the struggles were slightly different. Nish had a counterpart to deal with in a practical sense, whereas Ben faced the prospect of being a substitute for a dead man. Isaac, on the other hand, had no idea what Dr. Hughes was doing back on Earth or what his family situation even was. The motivation to reach home had warped, Zac had started to realise that he was torn between a fascination with finding out and the realisation that his existence back home was just a series of headaches not guaranteed to be better than being stuck all the way out here. The focus had shifted from personal motivation to a custodianship; what happened after they returned wasn't as important as just trying to make it happen for these people who still had reason to hope.

He was pretty sure, if he knew Ben Jamesson at all, that the other man was feeling this in triplicate.

"Still," he continued, cutting back into his food to continue eating, "familiarity doesn't have to be a bad thing either. We have plenty of reasons to believe these a good people, in their own right. Though I may be suffocated in my sleep if I start drawing too many comparisons." As much as he didn't doubt it was harder being the double of a crewmember, Isaac had at least a few qualms to point out trying to date one. Explaining the existence of feelings for one that didn't extend to the other was requiring some diligence.

“You would be suffocated,” Benjamin said slightly amused as he looked up and sighed a little. “So is that why you have come here, to talk about mine and Calanthe’s … whatever it is?” He wondered. He could not blame the man, they had tip toed around the subject for a long time. “Or are you wanting advice on having 2 versions of your wife?” He was hoping it was the second subject, but was not sure.

A momentary squint conveyed just how awkwardly that term sat, even if there was some technicality to it. Accidental alien marriage hadn't been the ideal way to redefine a relationship, and though Zac couldn't argue that it seemed to have worked out just fine, it did still feel like the universe had somewhat stolen the wind out of his sails.

"I'm here," he ventured instead, "because I saw a friend eating alone. I might need to sometimes remind him that he doesn't have to suffer in silence all the time but I'm pragmatic about my chances of that making much difference." The doctor smiled. "Though I suppose if you wanted me out of the way, you could continue to refer to them both as my wife. It's..."

Here, Isaac took a moment. Despite a slight variance in circumstance, Ben was dealing with a very similar situation. Some sensitivity was necessary.

"Honestly, it's hard to think of them as the same person. In every way that seems to matter, they clearly aren't. I know it will take a long time for them to find all the unique disparities but my current survival tactic is to consider it more akin to dating a twin."

"I am fully aware they are not both your wife. Twins is how I view them, but I do not have much to do with either." He did not have to do with armoury or flight unless there was a problem, but he did not set out to get in either's way. He had not had much to do with Manishie Karalo on his ship, and despite the changes, it had not changed. He checked in, but he left her to live her life, whilst this man had been a friend and continued to be it now.

"It's not a perfect solution." Here, the doctor's tone took on the careful tact Isaac usually employed when trying to navigate complex topics without making it seem like he was insisting. "And I should imagine is a good deal less helpful in your situation."

Because, really, when both women were present, passing them off as sisters was just some mental trickery that allowed them all to continue moving forward without getting tangled up too much in complexities that couldn't be rationalised. It was likely less comforting when dealing with a deceased fiancee and a variation that came so much closer to an actual replica than a sibling ever could. Isaac wasn't sure that convincing yourself you were dating your lost partner's sister was actually better than the alternative.

There it was, Benjamin internally sighed and laid down his fork, looking at the man. "Do you think I am wrong in doing this?" He wondered quietly. It was an honest question to the only man who might have an opinion or no opinion on the matter.

"That's not for me to say."

Carefully, with intent to match the man's posture, Isaac also set down his cultery and instead reached for his drink.

"But, I'm happy to listen if you want to talk about it. I have some context," he added, feeling it important to clarify without elaborating enough to create confidentiality issues. "Calanthe's been more inclined to come to me about her recovery. It must be a lot for both of you to process."

“Ah.” The man decided. That made him happy that she was getting support and able to discuss with people other than himself. He loved the woman but he was fully aware than he was not the best for her. “It is.” He finally admitted, a crack in his wall finally appearing after seven months.

"That doesn't mean she tells me much." A faintly knowing smile conveyed just how much that particular personality trait had stood the test of timestreams. "And mostly it's what she thinks I want to hear. Not exactly someone who is easy to force to do much she doesn't want to do." It made a point without actually voicing it explicitly, a reminder perhaps that it was her opinion, not Isaac's, that Ben should be more concerned about.

“She is like steel.” He said fondly and sighed, scrubbing hand through his short hair. He knew her opinion was the one that mattered but he wanted Isaac’s opinion or maybe it was seal of approval that it was okay to do this.

In this capacity, Isaac's professional experience left him utterly unhelpful. It wasn't the role of a therapist to provide permission, only to attempt to enhance perspective. "There's been opportunity by now to get to know her." It was phrased almost like a query. "How's that going?"

“Well I think… I… where would you say onboard is a nice out of the way place for a date?” He finally wondered revealing that he wanted to try and date her properly.

It gave Isaac pause for thought. In many respects, the situation was complicated by the fact Ben had already travelled this road once before; it wasn't hard to imagine he'd prefer to avoid areas he'd already utilised, even if this wasn't technically the same ship. He lacked the command space now, privacy tended to come at a premium.

"You know, the lack of recreation areas is something I've been trying to work out ways to address. Social spaces are going to be vital long-term, including places for people to connect without everyone else breathing down their necks. What sort of date are we talking about?"

“MACO barracks is what Lexi has been bothering me about.” He said quietly. It was a large space that he had only used a small area of to make his office and work space. “Just somewhere private that’s neither of our quarters.” It made things awkward, more for him than her he suspected but he did not want that for anyone.

"She and I have had a few conversations to that effect," Isaac agreed, not without a small portion of amusement. He wasn't going to fault the woman's enthusiasm, particularly not when she had started her passion project before being forced to accomodate a colleague with actual experience and accreditation. For his part, Hughes was just glad to have someone this crew knew ready to beat them all around the head with the Adequate Self-Care stick. "What we're mostly trying to figure out is what people want to do. We could certainly look at converting a few of the smaller spaces into private retreats."

“Lots of options but definitely need more people to know what they want and not be clueless like me.” The man said quietly before he had a thought. “I have an idea.” He realised thinking of the hydroponic bay expansion that he had waiting on his desk.

It took all of Isaac's resolve to moderate his grin to a more subdued smile; this was the kind of animation he needed from his friend if Ben was ever going to set himself on the path of actually living again rather than merely existing for the benefit of others. "Well, make sure you share it with the class."

“Oh no… if it works I’ll share.” Ben said slyly as he stood up gathering his tray. “Thanks Doctor for the brain drain and council.” Ben was sure he could pull it off easily enough but he would need to talk to crewman jones and most likely Darru.