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The Middle
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S through Z › Star Trek (2009)
Rating:
Adult
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
S through Z › Star Trek (2009)
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,112
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Star Trek is the property of CBS, Paramount and Desilu Studios. I own nothing and make no profit from either writing or posting this story.
The Middle
Story Name: The Middle
Part 1/1
Rating: Teen (for naughty words and vague slash-sexual references)
Story Summary: Chekov feels like an outsider, Sulu feels his pain and a helm console feels Chekov’s fist.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, The Enterprise or her intrepid Crew. Those privileges belong strictly to CBS, Paramount and Desilu studios.
Warnings: Light slash. Don’t like, don’t read!
For Annime1231
“Hey,
Don’t’ write yourself off yet.
It’s only in your head you feel left out,
or looked down on.
Just try your best,
Try everything you can.
And don’t worry what they tell themselves
when you’re away.”
~***~
“Mr. Chekov, begin shipwide broadcast, please. Inform the crew of mission readouts once we’ve reached Warp Factor 5 en route to Alfa 177.”
The clarion voice of Captain James Tiberius Kirk rang out across the Bridge with a tone that almost managed to be authoritative. It was heartening to hear the man back in control after the near-cataclysmic events of their previous assignment at Psi 2000. It had been one of their first missions out of Spacedock after the events of Nero’s Incursion and what-do-you-know, it had almost killed them. Not exactly an auspicious start to a long five years, now was it? Everyone was ready to just move on to their next mission and forget about the catastrophe, but there was still anxiety lingering in the air.
It was like the Bridge was a pressure-cooker on slow boil. Something was about to blow and everyone could feel it.
Realizing that he had been addressed, Ensign Pavel Chekov blinked his huge, blue eyes and nodded vigorously, “A-aye keptin…”
His slim little fingers flew over the board in front of him, his face utterly focused as he tried to go about his task with as much serenity as he could muster. He didn’t see the Captain blink in confusion at his distraction nor did he catch the concerned look that Sulu shot his way.
Trying to smile, Chekov spoke quickly to the computer, “Ensign authorization code 9-5-wiktor-wiktor-2.” It was just an absent order given out of habit.
Sulu winced visibly as their shared console let out a braying little squawk of denial, utterly refusing to cooperate with Chekov’s thick accent. The Bridge seemed to hold its collective breath as the tiny Russian scowled blatantly at the controls. His cherubic face just didn’t seem to be built for such an expression of utter disdain and, dare-say, RAGE. When Chekov tried again, he spat each word out, biting them off viciously. He drummed his nimble fingers against the edge of the console while he waited for authorization to go through. It was only unfortunate that his irritation only served to make his accent thicker.
The computer gave another frustrating, thwarted protest.
Chekov gritted his pearl-white teeth.
Kirk sat up just a little bit straighter in the Captain’s chair, easing out of the slouch he’d been crumpled lazily into. Being as in tune with the ebb and flow of his crew as he was, Kirk knew damn well when the shit was about to hit the proverbial fan, “Ensign…”
“FUCK!” The small blonde Russian finally exploded, slamming his fist straight downward into his panel before standing up, his back ramrod straight.
“Pavel!” Uhura gasped, turning in her seat, her jaw agape and her earpiece clutched limply in between slender brown fingers.
A hot blush written across his cheeks, the Russian Ensign just shook his head and stormed off the Bridge, everything frozen in shock behind him until the Turbolift doors hissed, closing him off from the rest of the room. Only after he was gone did the remaining Bridge crew even dare to look at one another.
Spock’s hairline was threatening to devour both of his eyebrows as he sat facing Jim, saying nothing with his mouth, but everything with his deep brown eyes. That had been…unexpected. Uhura’s jaw was still somewhere in the vicinity of her chest and her ears were burning. She hadn’t been aware that the tiny 17 year old ever dropped words more scandalous than ‘dang’. Jim was still blinking rapidly, trying to figure out where the explosive fit had come from and wondering if somehow the events of Psi 2000 had sling-shot them clear back to Chekov’s puberty. Sulu…Sulu was simply staring straight forward.
It was Spock’s smooth tenor that broke the stunned silence, “…It would appear that Ensign Chekov is experiencing what humans call an ‘emotional breakdown’. Highly illogical, though in definite need of immediate attention if the Bridge is to function at a satisfactory level.”
“I’ll…I’ll just give Bones a ring then…Mr. Chekov might still be sick…” Jim gave himself a firm mental shake, reaching to thumb a button on his command chair.
Sulu had been in a daze until he heard those words, “No, wait Captain. Permission to speak with Pa – Chekov first?”
Jim studied his helmsman. The Japanese man had turned to face his captain and there was a very sincere concern written in his soft, dark eyes. Immediately Jim understood that look and he felt a deep sympathy for Sulu. Of all the men and women who made up his Bridge Crew, Sulu and Chekov had become the closest over the months since they had all been thrown together by chance. Even Uhura and Spock seemed to have at least an arm’s-length between them even though they were still technically seeing one another. The blonde man’s sharp blue eyes softened as he considered the other man.
“…You’ve got one hour, Mr. Sulu. After that time, I expect BOTH of you back on my Bridge,” Jim said in his best ‘Captain-Voice’. As Sulu stood to go, he spoke again, his tone much gentler this time, “Please make sure the kid’s alright.”
Hikaru nodded curtly before going to the lift as fast as humanly possible while still keeping a level of grace and decorum. For the second time that morning, the Turbolift doors hissed shut and another member of the Bridge Crew disappeared, his station left almost woefully empty. The very idea galled Jim’s First Officer, but one quick glance from the former kept the latter’s lips firmly sealed.
This was just one time when logic was going to have to take a backseat to good old-fashioned emotion. Kirk just wished that Bones had been there to see his stand. Hell, maybe it would have exempted him from random hypospray attacks for at least a month.
Oh well.
~***~
Sulu didn’t even have to wonder about where he’d find Chekov.
Lately, whenever the boy was upset or in any way vexed (which was more often than the rest of the Bridge Crew realized), he usually found his way to the older Helmsman’s quarters. At first it had been a strange experience for the reserved Japanese man, coming back to his room to find Pavel stretched out across his bed, PADD in hand…but not a particularly jarring one. After a few weeks of late-night math meetings and private chess games, it quickly became a very welcome little ritual. True to habit, the petite Russian youth was curled into a tiny ball on his covers when Sulu opened up his door. Hikaru took a private moment to smile at the sight.
“…Hey pasha,” He greeted softly, stepping in and letting the door close behind him.
“Go avay, Hikaru,” Pavel sounded positively sullen.
“Well…it IS my room,” Sulu reminded softly, trying to keep a level of amusement in his tone so that his friend wouldn’t think he was angry with him.
The Russian tactician folded his arms in as tightly as he could over himself before trying to stand up, “Zen I vill just leave.”
Sulu shook his head, walking over and sinking into a chair near the bed, pushing Chekov back onto the bed, “You know it doesn’t work that way, Pasha. You can’t just worry us like that and expect not to talk about it. Besides, you only come here when you WANT to talk.” The Asian man leaned forward and gently touched Pavel’s lean shoulder, “What happened out there?”
For a long moment, the miserable boy was silent. Sulu just waited. After all, he was a very very patient man, especially where his pasha was concerned. He gave Pavel all the time he needed to gather his thoughts. He was rewarded for his virtue when Chekov finally spoke, his voice so soft that even the attentive Sulu had to strain to hear, “Hikaru…do you think I fit in?”
Hikaru’s black eyebrow’s mimicked Spock’s for a moment and he couldn’t help the grin the spread over his face. It was an expression of pure relief. It seemed that his young partner was just suffering from a bout of ‘displaced teenager syndrome’ instead of something ultimately more troubling. Sometimes Chekov was so advanced and tooth-rotting cheerful that it was easy for anyone (even Sulu) to forget that he was a teenager with the same problems that any other kid his age faced, genius IQ or no. Of course, maybe that was part of the problem. Most people either wanted to see him as an old man or a robot for his intellect while others wanted to protect him like a small child just because of his appearance. Nobody really treated him his age and that meant that sometimes his problems were either buried or handled completely incorrectly.
“Is that what you’ve been stressing about? Pasha! Why don’t you think you fit in? Everyone likes you.”
“Da. Zey like me like a puppy dog. Sometimes I feel more like ze Enterprise Mascot. Not ewen ze computer takes me seriously! Honestly! Ve have computers zat can translate Klingon vith no problems, but zey cannot understand me vhen I talk! ME!” Chekov snorted, folding his arms angrily over his chest and burrowing down into Sulu’s covers, completely usurping the bed.
“Well…I think after your outburst on the Bridge, you’re not going to have to worry about people treating you like a puppy dog. You took everyone by surprise and Uhura looked absolutely scandalized,” Hikaru tried to tease gently.
A deep crimson blush ate up Chekov’s narrow cheekbones, “I vas frustrated.”
“Da, vsyO panyAtno,” Sulu said softly, immediately enjoying the small smile that the Russian utterance earned him.
The smile, however, was fleeting, “…I cannot beliewe that I attacked my console. Scotty would kill me.”
“Kirk thought you were still suffering from the Psi 2000 virus. He wanted to call Doctor McCoy. I convinced him to let me talk to you first.”
“I…thankyou, Hikaru,” Pavel actually sat up a little, making room so Hikaru could sit next to him.
Sulu shifted easily over onto the mattress, smiling as the smaller Russian leaned his curly head on his toned shoulder, “It wasn’t a problem, Pavel.”
Chekov exhaled through his nose and tried a joke. Jokes were always how Kirk proved to the crew that he was feeling fine, so maybe it would work for Pavel too, “…You just like finding vays to get me alone in your room, Hikaru.”
It earned him soft laughter and a small kiss at the crook of his pale neck. Sulu knew that Chekov was just trying not to worry him, but he let him get away with his little distraction tactics. It would only embarrass the young genius further if he tried to exacerbate the point. They both knew very well that Chekov was still embarrassed about his outburst, still frustrated with being treated like a porcelain child and still felt a little bit out-of-the-loop around the others. However, they also both knew that, so long as the tenacious Russian had Sulu to rely on at the end of the day, everything would be alright.
“You know…I’m pretty sure I heard somewhere that the Russians are extremely adept at the art of making out,” Sulu ventured slyly after a long silence.
The expression written across Chekov’s young face was completely mortally serious, his true intent only betrayed by the slightly crinkling at the edge of his button nose, “Oh da. Do you know vhy zat is, Hikaru?”
Sulu edged over a little bit more on the bed until both he and Chekov collapsed against the sheets, “Mmmm, can’t say that I do. However, I know that we’ve got about another 30 minutes before we’re due back on the Bridge with smiles on. Do you think we have enough time for a quick history lesson, Pasha?”
“Da!”
~***~
A/N: This story was written in response to a Star Trek Reboot Art meme by Annime1231 (.com/art/Reboot-Meme-126436486?offset=25#comments) and the impromptu challenge placed there! The artwork is hilarious and I definitely recommend that you view it and then, for pete’s sake, REVIEW IT! The lyrics at the top are from “The Middle” by Jimmy Eat World and the random Russian is just randomly cobbled together from the few phrases I know.
The Psi 2000 incident is from the episode “The Naked Time” wherein the entire Enterprise crew is infected by a contagion that basically shuts down inhibitions. Spock cries, Spock beats the shit out of Kirk, Sulu runs around without a shirt and Kirk professes his love…for his ship. It’s definitely worth a watch.
Part 1/1
Rating: Teen (for naughty words and vague slash-sexual references)
Story Summary: Chekov feels like an outsider, Sulu feels his pain and a helm console feels Chekov’s fist.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, The Enterprise or her intrepid Crew. Those privileges belong strictly to CBS, Paramount and Desilu studios.
Warnings: Light slash. Don’t like, don’t read!
For Annime1231
“Hey,
Don’t’ write yourself off yet.
It’s only in your head you feel left out,
or looked down on.
Just try your best,
Try everything you can.
And don’t worry what they tell themselves
when you’re away.”
~***~
“Mr. Chekov, begin shipwide broadcast, please. Inform the crew of mission readouts once we’ve reached Warp Factor 5 en route to Alfa 177.”
The clarion voice of Captain James Tiberius Kirk rang out across the Bridge with a tone that almost managed to be authoritative. It was heartening to hear the man back in control after the near-cataclysmic events of their previous assignment at Psi 2000. It had been one of their first missions out of Spacedock after the events of Nero’s Incursion and what-do-you-know, it had almost killed them. Not exactly an auspicious start to a long five years, now was it? Everyone was ready to just move on to their next mission and forget about the catastrophe, but there was still anxiety lingering in the air.
It was like the Bridge was a pressure-cooker on slow boil. Something was about to blow and everyone could feel it.
Realizing that he had been addressed, Ensign Pavel Chekov blinked his huge, blue eyes and nodded vigorously, “A-aye keptin…”
His slim little fingers flew over the board in front of him, his face utterly focused as he tried to go about his task with as much serenity as he could muster. He didn’t see the Captain blink in confusion at his distraction nor did he catch the concerned look that Sulu shot his way.
Trying to smile, Chekov spoke quickly to the computer, “Ensign authorization code 9-5-wiktor-wiktor-2.” It was just an absent order given out of habit.
Sulu winced visibly as their shared console let out a braying little squawk of denial, utterly refusing to cooperate with Chekov’s thick accent. The Bridge seemed to hold its collective breath as the tiny Russian scowled blatantly at the controls. His cherubic face just didn’t seem to be built for such an expression of utter disdain and, dare-say, RAGE. When Chekov tried again, he spat each word out, biting them off viciously. He drummed his nimble fingers against the edge of the console while he waited for authorization to go through. It was only unfortunate that his irritation only served to make his accent thicker.
The computer gave another frustrating, thwarted protest.
Chekov gritted his pearl-white teeth.
Kirk sat up just a little bit straighter in the Captain’s chair, easing out of the slouch he’d been crumpled lazily into. Being as in tune with the ebb and flow of his crew as he was, Kirk knew damn well when the shit was about to hit the proverbial fan, “Ensign…”
“FUCK!” The small blonde Russian finally exploded, slamming his fist straight downward into his panel before standing up, his back ramrod straight.
“Pavel!” Uhura gasped, turning in her seat, her jaw agape and her earpiece clutched limply in between slender brown fingers.
A hot blush written across his cheeks, the Russian Ensign just shook his head and stormed off the Bridge, everything frozen in shock behind him until the Turbolift doors hissed, closing him off from the rest of the room. Only after he was gone did the remaining Bridge crew even dare to look at one another.
Spock’s hairline was threatening to devour both of his eyebrows as he sat facing Jim, saying nothing with his mouth, but everything with his deep brown eyes. That had been…unexpected. Uhura’s jaw was still somewhere in the vicinity of her chest and her ears were burning. She hadn’t been aware that the tiny 17 year old ever dropped words more scandalous than ‘dang’. Jim was still blinking rapidly, trying to figure out where the explosive fit had come from and wondering if somehow the events of Psi 2000 had sling-shot them clear back to Chekov’s puberty. Sulu…Sulu was simply staring straight forward.
It was Spock’s smooth tenor that broke the stunned silence, “…It would appear that Ensign Chekov is experiencing what humans call an ‘emotional breakdown’. Highly illogical, though in definite need of immediate attention if the Bridge is to function at a satisfactory level.”
“I’ll…I’ll just give Bones a ring then…Mr. Chekov might still be sick…” Jim gave himself a firm mental shake, reaching to thumb a button on his command chair.
Sulu had been in a daze until he heard those words, “No, wait Captain. Permission to speak with Pa – Chekov first?”
Jim studied his helmsman. The Japanese man had turned to face his captain and there was a very sincere concern written in his soft, dark eyes. Immediately Jim understood that look and he felt a deep sympathy for Sulu. Of all the men and women who made up his Bridge Crew, Sulu and Chekov had become the closest over the months since they had all been thrown together by chance. Even Uhura and Spock seemed to have at least an arm’s-length between them even though they were still technically seeing one another. The blonde man’s sharp blue eyes softened as he considered the other man.
“…You’ve got one hour, Mr. Sulu. After that time, I expect BOTH of you back on my Bridge,” Jim said in his best ‘Captain-Voice’. As Sulu stood to go, he spoke again, his tone much gentler this time, “Please make sure the kid’s alright.”
Hikaru nodded curtly before going to the lift as fast as humanly possible while still keeping a level of grace and decorum. For the second time that morning, the Turbolift doors hissed shut and another member of the Bridge Crew disappeared, his station left almost woefully empty. The very idea galled Jim’s First Officer, but one quick glance from the former kept the latter’s lips firmly sealed.
This was just one time when logic was going to have to take a backseat to good old-fashioned emotion. Kirk just wished that Bones had been there to see his stand. Hell, maybe it would have exempted him from random hypospray attacks for at least a month.
Oh well.
~***~
Sulu didn’t even have to wonder about where he’d find Chekov.
Lately, whenever the boy was upset or in any way vexed (which was more often than the rest of the Bridge Crew realized), he usually found his way to the older Helmsman’s quarters. At first it had been a strange experience for the reserved Japanese man, coming back to his room to find Pavel stretched out across his bed, PADD in hand…but not a particularly jarring one. After a few weeks of late-night math meetings and private chess games, it quickly became a very welcome little ritual. True to habit, the petite Russian youth was curled into a tiny ball on his covers when Sulu opened up his door. Hikaru took a private moment to smile at the sight.
“…Hey pasha,” He greeted softly, stepping in and letting the door close behind him.
“Go avay, Hikaru,” Pavel sounded positively sullen.
“Well…it IS my room,” Sulu reminded softly, trying to keep a level of amusement in his tone so that his friend wouldn’t think he was angry with him.
The Russian tactician folded his arms in as tightly as he could over himself before trying to stand up, “Zen I vill just leave.”
Sulu shook his head, walking over and sinking into a chair near the bed, pushing Chekov back onto the bed, “You know it doesn’t work that way, Pasha. You can’t just worry us like that and expect not to talk about it. Besides, you only come here when you WANT to talk.” The Asian man leaned forward and gently touched Pavel’s lean shoulder, “What happened out there?”
For a long moment, the miserable boy was silent. Sulu just waited. After all, he was a very very patient man, especially where his pasha was concerned. He gave Pavel all the time he needed to gather his thoughts. He was rewarded for his virtue when Chekov finally spoke, his voice so soft that even the attentive Sulu had to strain to hear, “Hikaru…do you think I fit in?”
Hikaru’s black eyebrow’s mimicked Spock’s for a moment and he couldn’t help the grin the spread over his face. It was an expression of pure relief. It seemed that his young partner was just suffering from a bout of ‘displaced teenager syndrome’ instead of something ultimately more troubling. Sometimes Chekov was so advanced and tooth-rotting cheerful that it was easy for anyone (even Sulu) to forget that he was a teenager with the same problems that any other kid his age faced, genius IQ or no. Of course, maybe that was part of the problem. Most people either wanted to see him as an old man or a robot for his intellect while others wanted to protect him like a small child just because of his appearance. Nobody really treated him his age and that meant that sometimes his problems were either buried or handled completely incorrectly.
“Is that what you’ve been stressing about? Pasha! Why don’t you think you fit in? Everyone likes you.”
“Da. Zey like me like a puppy dog. Sometimes I feel more like ze Enterprise Mascot. Not ewen ze computer takes me seriously! Honestly! Ve have computers zat can translate Klingon vith no problems, but zey cannot understand me vhen I talk! ME!” Chekov snorted, folding his arms angrily over his chest and burrowing down into Sulu’s covers, completely usurping the bed.
“Well…I think after your outburst on the Bridge, you’re not going to have to worry about people treating you like a puppy dog. You took everyone by surprise and Uhura looked absolutely scandalized,” Hikaru tried to tease gently.
A deep crimson blush ate up Chekov’s narrow cheekbones, “I vas frustrated.”
“Da, vsyO panyAtno,” Sulu said softly, immediately enjoying the small smile that the Russian utterance earned him.
The smile, however, was fleeting, “…I cannot beliewe that I attacked my console. Scotty would kill me.”
“Kirk thought you were still suffering from the Psi 2000 virus. He wanted to call Doctor McCoy. I convinced him to let me talk to you first.”
“I…thankyou, Hikaru,” Pavel actually sat up a little, making room so Hikaru could sit next to him.
Sulu shifted easily over onto the mattress, smiling as the smaller Russian leaned his curly head on his toned shoulder, “It wasn’t a problem, Pavel.”
Chekov exhaled through his nose and tried a joke. Jokes were always how Kirk proved to the crew that he was feeling fine, so maybe it would work for Pavel too, “…You just like finding vays to get me alone in your room, Hikaru.”
It earned him soft laughter and a small kiss at the crook of his pale neck. Sulu knew that Chekov was just trying not to worry him, but he let him get away with his little distraction tactics. It would only embarrass the young genius further if he tried to exacerbate the point. They both knew very well that Chekov was still embarrassed about his outburst, still frustrated with being treated like a porcelain child and still felt a little bit out-of-the-loop around the others. However, they also both knew that, so long as the tenacious Russian had Sulu to rely on at the end of the day, everything would be alright.
“You know…I’m pretty sure I heard somewhere that the Russians are extremely adept at the art of making out,” Sulu ventured slyly after a long silence.
The expression written across Chekov’s young face was completely mortally serious, his true intent only betrayed by the slightly crinkling at the edge of his button nose, “Oh da. Do you know vhy zat is, Hikaru?”
Sulu edged over a little bit more on the bed until both he and Chekov collapsed against the sheets, “Mmmm, can’t say that I do. However, I know that we’ve got about another 30 minutes before we’re due back on the Bridge with smiles on. Do you think we have enough time for a quick history lesson, Pasha?”
“Da!”
~***~
A/N: This story was written in response to a Star Trek Reboot Art meme by Annime1231 (.com/art/Reboot-Meme-126436486?offset=25#comments) and the impromptu challenge placed there! The artwork is hilarious and I definitely recommend that you view it and then, for pete’s sake, REVIEW IT! The lyrics at the top are from “The Middle” by Jimmy Eat World and the random Russian is just randomly cobbled together from the few phrases I know.
The Psi 2000 incident is from the episode “The Naked Time” wherein the entire Enterprise crew is infected by a contagion that basically shuts down inhibitions. Spock cries, Spock beats the shit out of Kirk, Sulu runs around without a shirt and Kirk professes his love…for his ship. It’s definitely worth a watch.