The Experiment (Data x reader)

Lows

You stood nervously beside Dr. Beverley Crusher, resisting the temptation to pace around sickbay.

"Y/n," Beverley said soothingly, putting a calming hand on your shoulder. "Please try to relax. Geordi and I have teamed up to do operations on Data before. You trust me, don't you?"

Of course you did. Beverley was the finest doctor in all of Starfleet, and Geordi was the best engineer. Data was in extremely good hands. Still, you were cautious. "I wouldn't doubt you, Beverley," you said quietly.

"Good." Beverley smiled reassuringly. "At the very least, be happy that it's me performing this examination and not my predecessor."

You shuddered, remembering Dr. Katherine Pulaski's brief reign of terror during Beverley's absence. Although you hadn't known Data back then, you still noticed her blatant disrespect towards him, and you and Deanna had cringed every time you saw her approaching. You remembered catching flashes of her blue uniform and instantly taking note of your surroundings, making sure Data wasn't near her.

After a few more moments of waiting, Worf came in, glancing behind him. "Data and Geordi are nearly ready for the procedure, Doctor," he informed her.

"Wonderful. Thank you, Worf," she said calmly, gesturing to the nurse beside her to prepare the surgical tools. You glanced back towards Worf and found him gazing (somewhat sympathetically?) at you.

"Miss y/l/n, please stop worrying," Worf grunted. "No matter what we find, we'll be getting to the root of the problem, and that's what matters."

A surprisingly comprehensive speech from your Klingon bodyguard, you thought appreciatively. Still, it didn't change what was about to happen. Butterflies threatened to devour your stomach when Geordi entered the room, wheeling an unconscious Data in a stretcher in front of him. He caught your eye and smiled softly.

"I know you're scared. So am I." He squeezed your shoulder. "But I think it'll be fine. I have a funny feeling everything will work out."

You bite your lip, closing your eyes and forcing yourself to take in a deep breath. Geordi and Beverley were the two most capable people who you could possibly imagine doing the operation. You glanced down at your boyfriend, taking his lifeless hand in yours and gazing down onto the angled features of his face, his eyes closed in a peaceful imitation of sleep; wondering briefly if he was able to dream, you squeezed his hand before you released it, resigning yourself to fate. You had to agree with Geordi. There was a funny feeling of peace, an unusual sensation of an incomplete, bittersweet resolution, one brought about by the operation.

You traced the synthetic skin of Data's forearm as Beverley and her nurse prepared the surgical tools. Although Data did not have internal organs, the traditional surgeon's tools were still helpful to Geordi when he was attempting to dismantle Data's "brain". You longed suddenly for the comfort of golden eyes fixated lovingly on you, for his lips on yours, his voice whispering soft encouragement into your ear. Would the examination discover anything that could put these daily reassurances at risk?

They had been wonderful moments, you reminded yourself, but all highs must have their lows. All romances must have their grounding point, the point at which the fantasy fades and reality intrudes once more, and it appeared that you had reached it. If emotions were physically destroying Data's infrastructure, there wasn't much to be done.

"Y/n, why don't you wait in the other room?" Beverley suggested, clearly sensing your fears. "It will be easier to distract yourself, and you won't have to watch."

It was a reasonable stipulation, of course, one that you should have thought of in the first place. However, you weren't thinking rationally at the moment, and you wandered out of the room in a daze, sitting down in the waiting area across from Wesley. He glanced up, startled.

"Oh, hi, Miss y/l/n. That's so funny, I was actually just doing the reading for your class," Wesley said brightly, holding up his copy of Dracula. "But what's up with Data? I saw Geordi bringing him in."

You sighed, taking a deep breath, and trying to remind yourself that you were away from the procedure. This was a much more laid-back environment; medical staff occasionally crossing the room to put away tools, the table in front of you littered with Wesley's schoolwork, Wesley himself sitting across from you with his feet propped up casually. There was nothing to be feared, and yet you still felt sick with worry.

"We're..." You bit back a groan. Because of your position, you knew you would be forced to make up a fake, positive response, be relentlessly happy as all teachers should appear to their students. However, Wesley had become a friend to you, and you looked forward to when he was finished with his schooling so that you didn't have to sugarcoat everything to him anymore. "We're just making sure that Data's new emotions aren't having any negative side effects, Wesley. It's very routine, and it shouldn't take long. I'm just waiting to make sure everything goes well."

"Oh." Wesley nodded, obviously having been fooled by your bluff. "Sounds pretty boring. Hey, what did you say the symbolism behind Lucy's multiple suitors is again?"

Thank the heavens, a distraction, and a wonderful one at that. You immersed yourself into Stoker's world and essentially gave Wesley a mini lecture, which he actually seemed quite interested in, asking questions and providing his own commentary. As the conversation progressed, you couldn't help but wonder if you should bring Spot to see Data once he'd woken from surgery, but you decided the finnicky cat wouldn't be amused by the change in location. Still, it would be a comfort to Data... you shook yourself out of this train of thought, reminding yourself that Spot was very much a creature of habit not accustomed to visiting her owner in sickbay.

"So... people have been reporting appearances of Q," Wesley said suddenly, glancing over at you carefully.

"I've heard," you returned softly, absent-mindedly flipping through Wesley's notes.

"What do you suppose he's doing?" Wesley asked, curiosity evidently getting the best of him.

You paused to consider this. By all accounts, Q was trying to deliver a warning, yet he also seemed to take some sort of sadistic pleasure in causing you trouble. His lingering around the ship would suggest an eagerness to watch the proceedings- perhaps only he knew what the outcome of the procedure would be.

"I'm not sure, Wesley," you sighed, your veneer of positivity dropping. "I just don't know."

At that moment, Worf stepped out of the operating room, his face grimly inexpressive. You sensed a sort of primal aggression from the Klingon, one that he usually hid well. "It is done," he said, beckoning to you, and you can't help but note the discontent in his voice. Your heart skipped a beat- Data's fate had been determined, and judging by Worf's behavior, the results were nowhere near what anyone wanted them to be.

------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading everyone!