Star Trek Fic... continued...Posted on 2012.08.08 at 12:30
Current Mood: blah
But I think I'll just post the rest of my Chekov/McCoy fanfic now.. get it over and done with! :P
So here it is, part 2 of 5 in my McCoy/Chekov series!
By: ninomiya-arashi (cymrutvxq)
Pairing/s: 2009 Star Trek - McChekov (McCoy/Chekov), Kulu (Kirk/Sulu)
Genre: Drama, Fluff
Length: 5 parts (2/5)
Warnings: Cockyness.. yeah, it's Kirk.
Summary: 'It was the silence that wound him the most. The deadly silence as every human and alien around the transporter room stood in disbelief, in fear, in distress for the woman who had fallen to her death, and the man who had just lost his mother.'
Chekov didn’t think the day could get any more dramatic and chaotic than it already had. To say the least, he didn’t think it would turn out to be the way it did. It wasn’t like a normal day aboard a federation vessel, not like any day was actually normal for the crew, but this one was particularly abnormal.
Ever since that incident hours earlier Chekov had slowly relaxed, the comforting words of his friends easing him, and the distraction of his work taking his mind off of things he shouldn’t be thinking about any longer. Because that incident was over, and now he could just move on and forget about it. Well, almost forget.
Doctor McCoy had given him a full body scan back at the sickbay, insisting rather anxiously that he be checked for any sign of the ensign wanting to collapse and not get back up again, Chekov didn’t want to stay but McCoy had been so stubborn and grumpy that the ensign was afraid to say no. It had taken more than five minutes which the doctor had promised, him and his hyposprays jabbing at Chekov’s neck like a pack of bees.
But Chekov didn’t mind once the doctor had finished, because McCoy had looked so reassured once he’d made sure the navigator was fit for duty and healthy as the day he was born, it made Chekov feel pleased that someone cared so much for him. McCoy was a doctor, and he evidently had a duty to care for his patients, but to Chekov it was special because nobody had ever been so concerned and helpful to him before, Chekov had never known what it was like to be cared for.
Sure, his friends on board the enterprise had shown kindness to him before, but he was never that close to them, they would never be so troubled about him the way the doctor was. If one of them saw him break down and tire himself out to the brink of exhaustion, they’d help of course, but would hand him over to the nearest medical officer.
Sulu had once found him crying in the boy’s bathroom back at the academy, huddled in the corner like a small child, so unlike other students who were mostly over the age of twenty. Chekov was crying over a boy who’d called him a ‘weird nerd’, picked on him for being different, for being exceedingly smart at the tender age of sixteen.
Sulu had been there, told him everything would be alright. Chekov liked to be left alone when he was down in the dumps, and so Sulu knew not to argue with him and leave him be. Sulu knew Chekov would be ok after a little while, all he needed was some kind words to make him realise that it was the other man who should be crying, because he didn’t have the brains that Chekov did.
His parents had beyond doubt never acted the way Doctor McCoy did towards him. Not once in Chekov’s life had his mother held him tight and soothed him into sleep after nightmares, his father never helping him up off the ground after falling off his bike, scratches bleeding on his knees where he’d have to cover with a plaster by himself minutes later.
Chekov’s uncle who lived next door and practically lived in their house hadn’t even flinched when he’d fainted in front of him, his ten year old body growing weak and tired from overworking around the house or out in the field. That night, in their small cottage just outside snowy Izvensk, Chekov had looked after himself while his uncle and parents laughed at a popular Russian show on the television downstairs.
So it was all new to Chekov. The worried glances, the gentle touches, the never-ending questions of ‘how are you feeling now?’ or ‘are you ok to leave sickbay?’ And it felt good. It felt good to be taken care of by the doctor, Chekov was in fact quite happy that the doctor had ordered him to stay.
It had been easier to talk to Spock once McCoy had given him words of encouragement, walking with him to the bridge and Chekov could have sworn the doctor had glared at Spock in warning before returning to the sickbay. The Vulcan obviously knew what said glare meant, because he nodded back before walking Chekov to the hallway.
Chekov apologised without thinking first, his words running passed his lips like he couldn’t control his own self. He’d felt that pang of worry, fear and sadness again, just for a second, before Spock had put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. This time though, Chekov couldn’t see anger or hurt in the Vulcan’s eyes, but he could see the corner of his lips slightly turned up into a small smile. Chekov knew then that it wasn’t his fault.
But from then on Chekov thought that he was the least of Spock’s worries. Kirk was someone the Vulcan obviously had no time for, wanting nothing of his advice or opinions, his voice calm and steady as he gave his orders and ignored Kirk’s judgment.
Once the crew on the bridge started putting pieces together of the Romulans plans, sharing ideas and working things out, Kirk and Spock immediately clashed like fire and water. Every piece of information one shared the other one slatted, having no desire to agree on anything the other man said or felt. It was like listening to two siblings bickering over who gets to look after the dog.
Nobody expected Kirk to get thrown off the ship, let alone thrown onto a freezing cold planet in the middle of the galaxy. Chekov could see the relief in Spock as Kirk was whisked away, out cold in the clutches of the security guards who had to drag his limp body to the shuttle bay.
All sorts of gossip had run around the ship from then on, people making silly stories up about Kirk wanting to take command of the ship, threatening the Captain and demanding to be taken to the Romulans to fight one on one like a super ninja. Chekov had simply chuckled; glad to hear the sound of his own laughter.
Chekov and Sulu had laid in the course to Earth by the time Kirk had probably landed on the ice covered planet, maybe waking up to find that he’d been dumped in the middle of nowhere, only thing keeping him company is the voice of the small transporter’s computer. It made Chekov cringe, hoping he’d never get on the bad side of a Starfleet Captain.
Minutes later they were speeding through space like a comet, darting past an everlasting trail of shimmering stars, a gigantic brightly lit ship whizzing through a blanket of beautiful darkness. Chekov loved to be sitting on the bridge of the ship, in his chair just in front of the large glass window, everything and anything that existed in space there for him to see.
His hands sped over the screen he was situated at, eyes scanning the status of the ship’s warp and positions as it travelled through the galaxy. It came naturally to him, to pick out an error or notice a slight malfunction in the navigational system. But thankfully this time there were no faults as they shot like a bullet in space, the atmosphere calm yet busy since the absence of Jim Kirk.
Chekov looked over to Sulu who seemed to be starring into the blackness ahead, eyes unblinking like he was in deep thought. The navigator smiled a little at his friend, who seemed to be doing that a lot lately, wondering off into his own world every now and again as soon as there was no work to be done on the bridge.
His gaze wondered around the rest of the bridge, Spock sitting in the Captain’s chair like a king on a throne, hands placed at his sides with his eyebrows knotted. Uhura watched the Vulcan worriedly from her seat, fingers gentle tapping her knees, clearly thinking of someway that she could help Spock in any way possible.
Security was standing still by the doors, an engineer working on a panel below the communications system and some lieutenants scurrying about the place like it was on fire. Chekov swivelled around in his chair, facing toward the glass window once again, watching the shining stars whizz past them.
As they overtook a planet the size of Mars Chekov’s eye caught a hold of someone in the reflection of the glass, a tall figure with dark hair wearing the blue Enterprise uniform. Chekov leaned forward in his chair and leaned his arms across the pad, narrowing his eyes just a little to see if he could make out the blurry vision of the man.
It was definitely McCoy. His tall form standing straight as he approached Spock, eyebrows furrowed together in an almost scowl that could have people running the other way. Chekov smiled to himself as he watched McCoy discussing something serious with the Captain by the look on his face, visibly irritated by the Vulcan’s company.
Chekov wondered what they were talking about, possibly the fact that Spock had thrown the doctor’s friend off the ship without a second thought, or the plan that the Vulcan had devised which McCoy wasn’t too happy about. The ensign didn’t have any say in the matter of the plan, but he did agree with Kirk, but of course he’d never tell the Captain that.
It wasn’t until a couple of minutes later that Chekov noticed Spock had gone, leaving McCoy standing alone beside the Captain’s chair, thinking to himself about the conversation he’d just had with the Vulcan. His arms were crossed over his chest as he stood there, his glowering eyes gazing off into nothingness.
Chekov got even more curious as to what they had been discussing as he watched the doctor, he’d turned around slightly in his chair to look at him clearer, noticing how he bit his bottom lip every now and then. The ensign also noticed McCoy’s fingers, digging into his arms like he was stopping himself from doing something, from doing something that would be a really bad idea.
Chekov frowned, suddenly feeling quite sorry for the older man, starting to worry about what might be bothering him so much that he’d be so angry and out of sorts. The doctor didn’t seem like the type to be fuming at anyone or anything, maybe a little frustrated and moody, but never livid like he would lash out and yell at the top of his voice.
And the doctor’s expression changed in an instant as he caught sight of Chekov looking his way, his tightly knit eyebrows relaxing slightly and lips more or less turning up into a small smile. The tenseness in his shoulders seemed to have disappeared in seconds, his serious thoughts driven away by the warm smile Chekov sent back to him in greeting.
The ensign was expecting the doctor to just nod like he always did to people he saw in the corridor, or maybe send a wave his way, but McCoy let his arms fall to his sides and leisurely walked towards the navigator. McCoy walked around to Chekov’s right, standing next to the side of the long panel.
Chekov twisted in his chair, looking up at McCoy who was staring off into the colourful abyss behind the glass. Yet again he seemed to be thinking deeply about something, but this time it was something special, because his eyes seemed to sparkle as he gazed at the stars and outstanding planets they passed.
Chekov took this time being so close to the doctor to take a closer glimpse at him. The navigator’s eyes travelled along the doctor’s body, taking in the slight outline of muscles in his arms, up to his toned chest and slowly drifting along his tan coloured neck.
McCoy’s firm jaw line curved perfectly, up into his thick dark hair that was combed to the side, every strand sitting flawlessly in place. His brows frowned intensely which seemed to be a habit of his every time he was in vast thought or in anger, his light greenly brown eyes gazing off into the scene ahead as he pursed his lips firmly.
Chekov was somehow entranced by the older man, wanting to take his eyes away but finding that he couldn’t. He’d only met the doctor a short while ago, and for some unknown reason to him he wanted to know everything about him. Chekov felt engrossed in the man who had helped him, the man that had cared for him, and it was kind of making him feel strange at the feelings he was suddenly having.
McCoy was a handsome man, a very attractive man that had Chekov blushing slightly at his own thoughts. The navigator blinked slowly as he tore his gaze away from the doctor, finding a spot on the con to stare at like a doll with its wide glassy eyes.
“How are you doing Ensign?”
The young Russian was tugged out of his daydream at the unpredicted sound of Doctor McCoy’s voice. He didn’t’ think the doctor would even speak, thinking he was only there to think and stare off into space, something that Chekov normally did himself when there was no work to be done on the bridge.
“Er…” Chekov averted his eyes from the panel to look up at the older man, who was now looking back at him, frown forgotten. “I’m… I’m very good doctor. Thank you.”
McCoy nodded once, turning his head to look out again. “If there’s anything bothering you kid, don’t forget, I’m here to help and you can tell me anything.”
Chekov felt a smile sneakily spread across his face, that feeling of being taken care of coming back to him. The doctor said those words with such sincerity that it was hard to not believe the man, and it made Chekov’s insides all warm like McCoy was wrapping him in a protective blanket.
Chekov felt his face heat up as McCoy stared at him with his infamous quirk of the eyebrow, his expression confused. Chekov realised immediately that he had been staring at the doctor the whole time he was thinking to himself, eyes unblinking, he felt like diving into a hole and burying himself in embarrassment.
“Yes… doctor?” Chekov stuttered out, averting his eyes to the colourful patterns passing them in space.
“Are you sure nothing’s bothering you?” McCoy asked seriously, turning slightly to face the young navigator. “Is it the… incident that happened.” The doctor started to sound uncertain of his own words suddenly, like he was afraid to ask. “Are you still thinking about it ensign? Because if you are, then you need to stop.”
Chekov’s gaze lowered to his lap slowly, staring down at his hands where he was fiddling with the hem of his yellow shirt. He’d been desperately trying to forget about the whole thing since getting hurled into sickbay, step by step he’d slowly shoved the thoughts of earlier on to the back of his head.
But if he said he’d forgotten about it entirely, he’d only be lying to himself and to the Doctor. The truth was, those distressing thoughts always found a hole in the barrier and slipped their way back into Chekov’s mind, images of the incident flickering on and off like a defecting film reel.
All he needed was to just switch it off. Find something to distract himself some more, that’s all Chekov needed was to move on and forget it ever happened. McCoy had helped him before when his stressing thoughts were as clear as day, when he’d felt like the walls were closing in on him, and the doctor had said just a few words which meant a whole lot of things to Chekov.
The navigator stopped the twiddling with his fingers, eyes staring at one spot on his dark trousers. Maybe if he said his feelings out loud, to the doctor, he would feel better. Maybe if he just said what he was thinking then McCoy would understand, help him move on even further.
“Actually doctor,” Chekov began, looking up restlessly at the other man. “I have been thinking about… you know.” The doctor’s eyebrows creased together. “I… I cannot help it, it just makes me think… what if Mr. Spock’s mother was here right now, safe and well.”
All McCoy could do was sigh, a hand lifting to rub at the bridge of his nose roughly. He knew the navigator would still have the accident in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to convince Chekov that nothing could have been done to stop it, he knew that some things just can’t be forgotten.
“Listen kid,” McCoy began, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at the younger man with an unwavering appearance. “I’m going to tell you this once, and once only.”
Chekov’s eyes widened a little at the firm look McCoy had on his face, his voice sounding serious and full of determination to get his thoughts across. The doctor took a few small steps towards Chekov, lowering his voice so that nobody around them could overhear what he was saying, or else rumours would fly within seconds.
“Forget everything that happened earlier, forget everything you saw and done.” He said. “So many people are proud of what you did, Spock is so grateful for saving those Vulcans. Countless lives were lost on that planet which nobody could have saved, but you saved many. You need to remember that kid, nothing else.”
Chekov looked at McCoy with soft green eyes, a small smile curling the edge of his lips which was hardly noticeable. He was right, of course the doctor was right, and he knew how to say the right words. Chekov couldn’t help the thoughts that drifted in and out of his mind every now and then, but then he could at least try and forget them.
Forget how one human life had been lost to the destruction of the planet Vulcan, and millions more that could not even escape, but there were Vulcans walking around the Enterprise that had been saved by Chekov at the last minute. That is what he had to remember.
The doctor looked at him like he had grown two heads, his hazel eyes locking onto Chekovs’ just waiting for the navigator to say something, because McCoy had obviously made his statement. Chekov felt his smile broaden at the sight of McCoy with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised into his hairline and expression firm like a teacher waiting for his student to give him a good explanation.
Chekov felt himself swell up with respect for the other man, and a new found sensation that he just couldn’t put his foot on every time he saw him. “Thank you.” Was all he could say, for no other words could be used for what he’d done for Chekov, a stranger the doctor had only met a few hours ago.
Then McCoy unfroze, his expression relaxed and he looked away from Chekov like he’d been stung. “There’s no need to thank me kid, I didn’t do anything.” He said.
“There is.” Chekov said quietly, afraid someone might hear him. “Noone has ever said such nice words to me before, words that mean something. All I get is hugs and ‘don’t worries’’ but you made me feel so much better, talking with you helped. Thank you, doctor.”
McCoy looked at him then, properly looked at him, like he was searching Chekov for something like he didn’t believe a word he’d said to him. It made Chekov want to jump up and hug the man just to show how grateful he was for his kind words.
Chekov could feel his cheeks turn a shade of pink at his own thoughts, imagining himself diving for a hug with the doctor and McCoy actually hugging him back. Chekov decided he must be getting some sort of fever along with a dosage of delusion.
McCoy answered with a slight nod of the head, his eyes moving elsewhere as he scratched the back of his neck. If Chekov was seeing things properly through his dazed eyes he could have sworn McCoy was blushing just a tad, avoiding eye contact like he was trying to avoid saying anything.
“I uh,” McCoy began, crossing his arms over his chest once again. “I’d better get back to sickbay.”
Chekov nodded in understanding, thinking of all the work the doctor had to do back in the medical bay, always on foot and never stopping.
“I’ll see you around Ensign.” McCoy said.
“Yes sir,” Chekov sent him a warm smile. “Thank you again sir.”
McCoy nodded again instead of saying anything back to the navigator, but just as he was about to walk away Chekov could have sworn he saw a smile pulling at the edge of the doctor’s lips. That little thought made Chekov smile to himself as McCoy left the bridge, making his way through the double doors and back to his workplace.
The young Russian’s cheerful mood didn’t go unnoticed as he tapped away on his con with light fingers; a good-natured smile gracing his features like the sun had suddenly shone down on him. Chekov felt eyes on him, a pair of eyes just wanting to grab his attention by their concentrated gaze.
“What?” Chekov said without looking over at Sulu, he could tell the other man was looking right at him for he hadn’t budged since Chekov had gone back to work on the control panel.
“You looked like a lost puppy!” Sulu chuckled.
At that Chekov looked at his best friend in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
“You and McCoy,” Sulu snickered as he spoke, a sly grin plastering his face. “You’ve never acted so shy in front of another man before, and you’re quite a shy person around strangers!”
Chekov scowled and turned back to his post, prodding random buttons. “I am not shy around other men! And he is not a stranger!”
“Mhmm.” Sulu hummed, you could practically hear the teasing in his tone. “Looks like somebody’s got a thing for doctors.”
Chekov didn’t look back at the helmsmen, no, he carried on with his job and ignored him like he wasn’t even there. A thing for doctors? Chekov almost snorted out loud at the thought, he’s never had a thing for doctors nor will he ever.
Doctor McCoy was a friend to him now, someone he could turn to when he needed to talk, when he needed help with the things that no one but him could understand. Sulu was just being his plain old self, a tease! He wasn’t there when McCoy had found him sobbing on the floor of an abandoned room, and had comforted him, talked to him, made him feel at ease.
Sulu didn’t realise what the doctor had done for him in those last few hours, so he wouldn’t get why Chekov looked at McCoy with such appreciation, why he wanted to just talk with the doctor all the time about anything and everything because he knew that McCoy would understand.
Although, Chekov had to admit one thing, there was something inside him that wanted to see the doctor for other things beside talking and showing his gratitude. Chekov wanted to just see him, get to know him, be around him and become as close to him as he was with Kirk.
Chekov didn’t know why he wanted those things, he didn’t know why McCoy had suddenly become a big part of his thoughts, and frankly, it kind of scared him.