Star Trek Fic.. Part 4/5Posted on 2012.08.08 at 12:43
Current Mood: blah
By: ninomiya-arashi (cymrutvxq)
Pairing/s: 2009 Star Trek - McChekov (McCoy/Chekov), Kulu (Kirk/Sulu)
Genre: Drama, Fluff
Length: 5 parts (4/5)
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.'
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
McCoy had never felt anything like it in his life. The rush of adrenaline, the sudden rumbling beneath his feet, the ship collapsing around him, his breathing growing still as darkness stretched through the entire ship for a mere three seconds. It was like being stuck in a darkened building in the middle of an earthquake, nothing but shouting, roaring of machines and echoes of things falling to the floor to be heard.
McCoy had no idea what was going on around them, all he knew was that the Romulans were causing a whole lot of trouble, which probably wasn’t all that good. He picked up whispers of the Romulan vessel being destroyed, a black hole being made in the middle of the galaxy, and the Enterprise getting sucked right into it. Sounded like something McCoy really wasn’t in the mood for.
Judging by the powerful shakes the ship was receiving, plus the cracks in the walls and practically everything and everyone falling over around the spacecraft, the Enterprise had definitely almost disappeared through a dangerous never ending tunnel in space. Thankfully the shaking had stopped, the cracks had stopped spreading, and the ship had gone still.
McCoy had hauled himself to his feet after taking a hard fall to the medical bay’s floor, looking around frantically to see if there were any serious injuries. A few nurses and doctors here and there seemed fine, patients lay in their beds frightened, while a couple of people gained small cuts and bruises from falling.
The nurses and doctors rushed to the patients to check on them, like it wasn’t a question of what to do at that instant, their equipment out and ready to bandage those with minor injuries. So, without a second thought, after checking that everything was in place in the medical bay, McCoy ran through the doors to get to the bridge.
The doctor sprinted past darkened hallways, lights flickering on and off, parts of the ceiling lying on the ground. Crew members were walking through the halls, some in disbelief, some with small injuries heading to sickbay, and some attending to others who needed their help.
Luckily the ship wasn’t in such bad condition as McCoy had thought as he ran through the corridors, some ceiling split in two, lights cut out, objects rolling across the floor or broken into bits after colliding with the hard ground. The doctor still didn’t let that thought change his idea of what the bridge might have ended up like.
His feet took him down the long, brightly lit corridor, bulbs flickering here and there as he passed, men fidgeting with the electric wiring jumbled up in the box on the wall. Things seemed almost normal here, like the whole crew were practicing a fire drill, or a minor accident had occurred aboard the ship.
But McCoy took no notice to the engineer officers around him; instead he got to the double doors leading onto the bridge, and almost banged on them in frustration with his hands as they opened a little less slowly than usual.
McCoy was greeted with a calmer atmosphere than he had imagined. The bridge wasn’t exactly intact. The lights above the computers flickered uncontrollably, wires were sticking out through a crack near the door, and the ceiling had split in many places along the roof of the room.
And the worst part, and what made McCoy’s stomach turn, was the enormous pattern of splitting glass along the front window, looking like it was about ready to smash into a thousand pieces. McCoy stared at it in disbelief, feeling like the people on the bridge had just about cheated death itself.
McCoy jumped on the spot as Kirk’s voice boomed across the quietened room, only hushed murmuring between the crew. Next thing he felt was a hand to the shoulder, Kirk’s one and only greeting to the doctor, he winced at the hard slap.
“You’re alive.” McCoy joked, blinded by the Captain’s bright smile. “Good to know.”
Kirk laughed wholeheartedly, folding his arms across his chest with a sigh. “Sure am, and I couldn’t have done it without my awesome crew.”
“I know,” McCoy said, eyebrows raised. “You’d get to cocky if you had to do it on your own and get us all killed.”
Kirk let out a ring of laughter that got half of the crews attention before they were diverted to other things, the Captain’s laughter shrunk into silent chuckles as he gave McCoy another hit on the arm, not impressing him one bit.
He didn’t know how Kirk could be so calm and laughing of all things after such an incident, he just didn’t understand the man; he could get into the worst of trouble and yet walk out of it with the biggest, goofiest smile spread across his smug face. It made McCoy want to roll his eyes, and wonder how the hell he’d become friends with such a madman.
“How’s Pike?” Kirk suddenly asked, his arms crossing over his chest, looking like the serious Captain that McCoy had never encountered before. “Anyone injured?”
“No,” McCoy answered instantly, reassuring the new Captain. “Pike’s fine, his legs are weak, we’re doing some tests to see if anything’s sprained or broken.”
“Good!” That daft grin was back again. “The balance is restored to nature… whatever that means.”
And with that said, the Captain turned on his heels and walked with a jump in his step towards Sulu who was sitting back in his chair, looking more than relieved.
“What are you all looking so glum for?!” Kirk’s annoyingly loud voice suddenly exploded across the room. “We almost got pulled into a bloody black hole! Why is no one celebrating?”
McCoy had to hold in his laughter as Kirk yanked Sulu out of his chair, the helmsman practically yelped in surprise at the action, and the Captain’s hands held the pilots and started dancing to nonexistent music, except for the very out of tune singing coming from Kirk.
The helmsman had no objection; in fact he had joined in, dancing with the Captain in the middle of the bridge, their singing and cheering starting to affect the others around them as they too joined in. McCoy felt like he’d suddenly been swept into one of those teenage parties where karaoke was vital to the night’s entertainment.
Over the noise of the cheering and whistling McCoy couldn’t even hear himself think. But he felt relaxed and at ease watching his best friend dance like an idiot with Sulu, all smiles and bad singing, like the Romulan ship hadn’t even existed and had almost made them all disappear.
“You must be enjoying yourself.”
McCoy blinked once or twice, before his eyes averted to the young boy that was unpredictably standing beside him. Chekov was smiling up at him, his bright green eyes filled with as much delight as the room held, those slight dimples at the corner of his lips that McCoy had always noticed, but never wanted to admit that he had.
“Why do you say that?” McCoy’s brow rose to his hairline, arms going behind his back.
“Because you were smiling,” Chekov chuckled lightly, his hand moved across to pick at the sleeve on his other arm as his eyes looked away from the doctor, diverting to the patch of red floor. “I like it when you smile.”
McCoy was about to reply with one of his jibes in his infamous grouchy way, but it took him just a few seconds to realise exactly what had past Chekov’s lips. The doctor gazed at the young navigator in surprise, noticing the faint blush that crept along Chekov’s cheeks.
“Uh…” McCoy let out, coughing slightly to hide his quite obvious surprise in his voice. “That’s uh… very nice of you… Ensign.”
Chekov took a quick glance at the doctor and smiled sweetly, his cheeks tinted rosy red. And all McCoy wanted to do was slap himself silly, that’s very nice of you Ensign? McCoy wanted to laugh at his own ridiculous words, sounding like a god damn idiot.
Jim would laugh like a madman at him, and then proceed to give him advice on how to react to a compliment, and give some tips on how to have a bloody good conversation. Because frankly McCoy had a thing for sounding like a complete fool in front of Chekov.
“How are the rest of the crew?” Chekov said biting his bottom lip, big green eyes looking into the doctors. “Is anyone hurt?”
McCoy was so focused on his own thoughts that it took him some time to realise the navigator’s lips were moving, and he was gazing up at him like some lost child with big innocent eyes. And no, McCoy was definitely not thinking that Chekov looked adorable.
“Er… no.” He answered, barely catching the question in the first place on the account that he was staring at one spot on Chekov’s face where a small dimple curved around his lips. “No, everyone was fine, a few bumps and bruises from the contact, but no one was hurt badly.”
“Good.” Chekov smiled sincerely, from his own experience on the bridge; he was surprised no other part of the ship was ripped apart from the powerful force of the black hole.
McCoy would have said by the walls almost crumbling around the place, lights flickering in almost every room and just about every alarm bell sounding, the whole ship had just slipped past getting into a whole lot of trouble. And judging by the gigantic window of the bridge that was now split from all angles it was the crew in that very room that managed to barely beat death itself.
“That window looks about ready to break.” McCoy mumbled, secretly feeling slightly anxious that space would finally have its way with him once the glass breaks.
Chekov followed the doctor’s gaze all the way over to the glass window at the front of the ship, where minutes ago he had seen the endless pit of darkness, reeling in a massive spaceship like it was child’s play. He wasn’t scared at the time, no, he was petrified. Chekov felt lucky to get out of such a situation.
“Yes,” Chekov said, looking back at the doctor, but with a smile still on his lips. “But it will not break, everything will be fine. Everyone is ok, and that’s all that matters.”
“Yeah.” McCoy nodded, his lips twitching at the edges, the navigator’s smiles really were contagious. “And uh…” McCoy paused.
He really wanted to say just what he was feeling at that moment, what he had felt while the ship rattled against the draw of the black hole, as he walked through the damaged hallways to the bridge. Chekov had been on his mind the whole time.
The young navigator was admittedly the first person McCoy really wanted to see before anyone, hell, he didn’t know Chekov as much as he knew Kirk, even Spock, and maybe even Uhura who he’d met a few times before at Starfleet. Yet, it was Chekov who he was frightened for, it was the Ensign that he was praying to whatever God that was out there would be safe on the bridge against such a violent alien race.
Strangely McCoy had taken a liking to the kid. He’d never experienced such need to see someone in his entire life before, want to talk to someone all the time, see their smile or hear their voice. Hell, McCoy had never even felt like that with his own ex-wife, not even close.
“I’m glad you’re ok.” The doctor said, more confidently than he’d imagined as he placed a gentle hand on the young ensign’s shoulder, a smile just visible at the corner of his lips.
Chekov didn’t even flinch or back away at the touch, which made McCoy relax from his nervous stance that he’d taken up. He thought the sudden movement would be uncomfortable for the navigator, but all McCoy got back was a genuinely beautiful smile.
“You too Doctor McCoy.” Chekov said in barely a whisper.
The young Ensign could feel the heat from McCoy’s hand radiating through him, it warmed him to the pit of his stomach, a feeling he felt at ease with for once in his life. Chekov had never wanted to be so close to someone until he did at that moment.
And before he could stop himself, Chekov did something that he hoped McCoy wouldn’t shout at him for like he did at certain cadets. The Russian took scarcely two steps forward and enveloped McCoy in a hug. He wound his arms around the doctor’s waist, slowly resting his hands on his back.
Chekov’s head shifted to the side, he told himself not to even think about it as he lay his head gently on the other man’s shoulder, biting his bottom lip nervously Chekov shut his eyes and waited. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, but something in his mind told him McCoy was about to push him away and ask him what the hell he was doing!
But it never came. Instead, Chekov unpredictably felt strong arms wrap around him with care as though he was a doll about to break. Chekov’s outstandingly green eyes opened wide as McCoy held him back, his warm breath tickling the back of Chekov’s neck like the soft touch of a feather brushing against his skin.
McCoy hugged him tightly, the younger man fitting against him securely and comfortably. The doctor knew if Kirk took a peek at them right now he’d never hear the end of it. But he didn’t care, not when Chekov rested his head on his shoulder like that, like he was feeling safe and at ease. And McCoy was the one giving him that protection.
To the doctor, it felt grand. He hadn’t held anyone this close in years, too afraid to get near any person he comes in contact with, just in case they betray him or throw him away like a piece of garbage. He hadn’t even let Jim get too close to him, half of the things he tucked away at the back of his mind for no one to find out about.
McCoy could virtually sense the smile that was sneakily tugging at the corner of his lips. The doctor wanted to mentally clout himself for turning so mushy just because of a seventeen year old kid, one who he’d only met a few weeks ago. But then again, another part of him was patting himself on the back for going five minutes without wanting to clonk someone’s head against the wall for talking nonsense, or getting on his nerves. Which was mostly Jim.
And in the midst of his thoughts he didn’t notice Chekov pulling away from the hug, too caught up in the moment as they say.
“Doctor?” Chekov’s eyes met his, a worried expression on his young face. “Are you okay?”
“Huh?” McCoy coughed into his hand, standing straight with his arms moving behind his back like he was in the military. “Yes, Ensign, I’m fine.”
“Oh,” Chekov smiled sweetly. “It’s just that you looked a little dazed.”
McCoy nodded slowly, thinking if he told Chekov exactly what he was in deep reflection about then the kid would look at him stupid, and laugh in his face before taking his seat at the navigation controls.
“I will go then, Sir.” Chekov almost gave the man a heart attack as he cut through his thoughts. “I believe we must get this ship back home before the windows break.”
McCoy’s ears pricked up at the boy’s last words, the words ‘window’ and ‘break’ in the same sentence made the doctor’s stomach do flips, in a very bad way of course. But before he could ask Chekov if he actually meant that they had a ninety percent chance of being sucked into space, he looked at him and changed his mind.
Chekov wore a cheeky grin on his face, one that said ‘you so fell for that you idiot’, and before McCoy could stop himself he let out a laugh, something that never came too easy for him since his childhood. With Chekov laughing with him, it felt like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Thanks for the minor heart attack Ensign.” McCoy grinned, ruffling the Russian’s curly locks gently under the palm of his hand. “You got me.”
Chekov chuckled lightly. “I’m sorry; I have a habit of making silly jokes.”
McCoy smiled at that, hoping to hear some more one day soon if the kid made him feel this cheerful. “Try to tone them down Ensign, I’m an old man.”
Chekov smiled widely, a glint in his eyes. “You are not old, you are not that much older than me Sir.”
If only he knew, McCoy thought to himself, trying hard not to mentally count the age gap between him and the young navigator standing in front of him. “Yeah, right.” McCoy mumbled, gritting his teeth as he worked out the answer, the kid was young enough to be his son perhaps.
“Anyway Sir,” Chekov said looking around the room, eyes following the crew members who were spread about the place, still celebrating their success with loud chatter before preparing to launch the Enterprise back to Earth. “I’d better get back to my position.”
McCoy nodded at the young man, a big part of him wanting to talk on and on with him, because Chekov had suddenly become someone he could talk to, someone he could have a conversation with that didn’t consist of bar fights, Spock being an asshole, or screwing the next person who came through the door.
And most of all, the Russian made him laugh. The one thing McCoy had been immune to for so long, like it was a disease of some kind that could kill him if he let out the slightest bit of laughter. Yet, he’d just laughed with Chekov; it flew out without being aware until he was actually doing it.
McCoy gazed down at Chekov whose bright green eyes were again looking into his, so young yet so wise. “Sorry.” McCoy apologised. “Was in a world of my own. Yeah, you go, I’ll uh… I’ll see you soon?”
Chekov smiled brightly. “Of course Sir.”
Chekov turned away and slowly began to move, but before he could take a few small steps McCoy called quietly, only for the hearing of the navigator. “Chekov.”
The ensign spun around on the spot, wide eyes looking up at the doctor in wonder. “Yes Sir?”
McCoy took at least a minute to get his words gathered together, wondering if he was about to sound like a complete idiot. “You… uh…” McCoy crossed his arms over his chest, a move he made when feeling slightly nervy. “You can… call me Len.”
And there it was, the silence that McCoy knew was coming. Chekov looked at him with big green eyes, confusion clearly written across his face, and McCoy just wanted to slap himself silly for sounding like a complete and utter moron. Or so he thought.
Next thing McCoy knew the Ensign’s expression changed, a smile formed, the young man’s innocence showing with that one look. “Ok.” Chekov said softly. “Only if you call me Pavel.”
McCoy couldn’t help himself from smiling back at that. “Sounds good to me.”
If McCoy was right, he could have sworn he saw a blush creep its way up the ensign’s cheeks. “See you later, Len.” Chekov smiled sweetly.
“You too, Pavel.” McCoy let the name slip of the end of his tongue, the name sounding more beautiful than he’d imagined.
With that said, Chekov twirled around on his feet and walked cheerfully back to his seat, fingers already dancing along the many buttons that made no sense to McCoy. The young Russian looked so content sitting at his station, eyes twinkling as he watched the stars shooting past the ship in the galaxies depths.
McCoy sighed inaudibly, running a hand through his tousled hair. He didn’t want to admit it but it wasn’t like it was a small thing to admit, he had a fascination for the kid, one where he just couldn’t get the boy out of his mind. And it scared him quite frankly.
All McCoy could do was watch from afar as the navigator worked his magic on the con, admire his abilities, his knowledge, and that sweet smile of his that was highly contagious to anyone around him. It didn’t seem right to him to become so absorbed by Chekov’s cheeky grins, angelic laugh and warm hugs that McCoy wanted more of.
McCoy wanted to walk away, pretend that he’d never met the ensign in the first place, and knock Jim across the head for even ordering him to go look for Chekov. It wasn’t healthy, how much he wanted to see Chekov all the time, thinking about him more times than he thought about his family or even the next medical check on the list.
There were only two explanations for it. Either he was getting really lonely and seriously needed to get out more, or the other really crazy idea that McCoy couldn’t believe he was even thinking himself, he was starting to see Chekov in a whole new light. A light that showed just how sweet and lovable the ensign really was.
McCoy knew he was treading in deep waters, becoming close to a seventeen year old ensign that he’d not long ago met, giving him feelings that he shouldn’t be experiencing with such a young man. But then again, McCoy was someone who didn’t give a damn when it came to people’s opinions, or those so called rules about not being able to get too close to your fellow colleague, so it shouldn’t be a problem, right?
McCoy inhaled deeply and let out the longest sigh he could gather up. He really needed to stop thinking just for a few minutes, forget about the young Russian for a little while, and go make sure that his poor medical bay hadn’t been too damaged in the mad dash to stop the Enterprise from getting yanked into a great big hole in space.
With that in mind, McCoy took one last look around the bridge. Calmness had seemed to settle around him, the crew were back in position at their cons, some still talking in hushed voices in small groups, and others walking to and fro across the room to collect supplies and patch up what needed fixing.
His eyes came across the newly appointed Captain by the infamous chair, his smile bright and cheerful as he shared a few words with Lieutenant Sulu, his hand resting on his shoulder as if they’d been good mates for years. McCoy’s brow raised in suspicion as Kirk’s hand lowered slowly down Sulu’s arm, a gesture that McCoy knew Kirk loved to use to so call ‘seduce’ the men and women he came across.
What stunned the doctor the most was what the Captain did next. His arms encircled the Lieutenant’s waist, pulling the younger man into his arms, which in McCoy’s books didn’t look exactly friendly but a little too friendly. And with Kirk practically manhandling the helmsman, Sulu hugged him back just as eagerly, arms locking around his neck tightly as if Kirk had almost dropped off the side of a cliff.
It seemed McCoy wasn’t the only one to notice the Captain’s obvious fondness for his pilot. By now the whole bridge had either gone quite, or was starting to whisper like a bunch of teenage school boys and girls, gossip floating from one group to the next. All eyes were on the couple who didn’t seem to give a damn what they were doing, and where they were doing it.
McCoy had to hold in a laugh, trust Kirk to fondle his helmsman in the middle of the bridge in front of his crew. He rolled his eyes at the thought of Kirk smirking at the looks on people’s faces, half staring in surprise, and the other half giggling like the two were doing a lot more than hugging.
So McCoy decided to leave Kirk to his strange ideas, and let him have his own fun, or whatever he wanted to call it. The doctor took one last look at Chekov, who didn’t seem too fazed by the fact that his best friend was cuddling with the Captain in front of everyone, pretty much smiling to himself as if he knew something no one else did.
McCoy smiled to himself, thinking of the things swimming around in the ensign’s mind, probably a secret that he had hiding up in there for a while. The doctor guessed what that secret could be, judging by his best friend’s hand sliding a little too close to Lieutenant Sulu’s backside. He kept a mental note to talk to Kirk about that.
With that in mind McCoy turned towards the sliding doors, leaving the bridge crew to it. He was met by dim lights, and a busy corridor where engineers scuttled about fixing broken lights and split wires. McCoy zigzagged his way around the corridor, ready to face what was left for him in sick bay, hoping that sooner than later he’d be able to see Pavel again.
It was a mad dash for most people to get to the auditorium at Starfleet, just days after the Romulan incident with the Enterprise. Just a few minutes and the hall would be packed with cadets, watching as James T. Kirk officially became the new Captain of the U.S.S Enterprise, and leader of over four hundred crew members.
Everyone had been stunned with the young man’s control and confidence in the Captain’s chair, barking out orders without a second thought, saving the lives of so many in such a minute space of time. And in those short minutes, James T. Kirk had become a great Captain before he’d even put on his uniform.
McCoy didn’t want to say it to Kirk’s face, but he was damn proud of the guy, no matter how much of a perverted idiot he could sometimes be, particularly after too many pints. He could imagine the smug look etched on Kirk’s face for the next year or two. But then again, Kirk deserved this chance of becoming a Captain of his own spaceship, ready to take on whatever challenges that lay ahead.
And McCoy, poor man would be stuck with him, nagging the doctor to pull up a seat and drink some shit he’s never heard of in his life. McCoy rolled his eyes comically at the thought, because he knew that sooner than later it would happen. Maybe Chekov being aboard the ship would be good for his sanity, and probably his health.
McCoy stopped in his tracks, the entrance to the main hall just yards away. When his name was called for a second time he turned around to look down the long hallway, he was met with the sight of Pavel Chekov clad in his cadet uniform that suited him much more than McCoy could have imagined.
“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” McCoy smiled at the beaming ensign. “It’s Len.”
Chekov came to a halt next to the doctor. “I know!” he chuckled cutely. “I just thought I’d be professional in public.”
McCoy laughed wholeheartedly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re doing a better job than me then.”
Chekov grinned, giving a slight shrug before changing the subject. “You are going to the auditorium yes?”
McCoy sighed almost dramatically. “I have no choice but to watch Jim grin smugly at his audience, yeah.” He answered jokingly.
Chekov laughed softly at the doctor’s vacant expression, his hands clapped behind his back and his head bowed. McCoy smiled warmly at the ensign at his sudden change of disposition. He noticed the sudden faint blush spreading slowly across the navigator’s cheeks, and the quiet shuffling of his feet against the marble floor, that action had seemed to become a habit of his.
“Everything alright Pavel?” McCoy asked with knotted eyebrows, stepping just an inch closer to inspect the smaller man’s face, which by now was as red as a tomato.
“Yes,” Chekov bit down on the corner of his lip, looking up at McCoy shyly. “Since you are by yourself Sir... I mean Len,” he stuttered. “Would you… would you like to sit by me?”
McCoy stared at Chekov, his eyebrows reaching his hairline. The ensign looked so bashful and unsure that McCoy just wanted to hug the young man, instead he decided not to catch too much attention in the middle of Starfleet’s main hallway, and he didn’t want to look like a mushy old man when he was far from it.
McCoy extended his arm to softly touch the ensign’s shoulder. “Course I’ll sit with you.” He squeezed Chekov’s shoulder gently, and gave him a genuine smile.
Chekov’s smile could have lit up the darkest night at that moment; he was over the moon with McCoy’s reply, feeling more eager for the ceremony than he was five minutes before. “Ok!” he said happily, body relaxing from its tense posture.
“Let’s get going then,” McCoy slipped his hand below Chekov’s shoulder, resting it gently on his back. “Maybe afterwards we can all go out to celebrate.”
“I would love that!” Chekov grinned vibrantly, the feel of McCoy’s hand pressed lightly against his lower back comforting him.
“Good,” McCoy nodded, starting to take small strides towards the main door to the auditorium. “First, let’s go watch Jim’s boring speech.”
Chekov’s laughter echoed down the hall as they walked leisurely next to each other, McCoy’s hand still resting softly on the young Russian’s back, neither noticing that curiosity got the best of some cadets around them. Clearly, McCoy couldn’t give a damn.