Thanks for the reviews and follows for the first chapter. You guys don’t know how much I appreciate it. Anyway, this chapter is just going to be more character development. I enjoy writing about Chekov, giving more insight into his personality, so here you go! (btw sorry it took me a while to write this, I lost my inspiration for a while but it has kind of returned. Enjoy!) (link to story pn ff.net: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9492336/2/I-c
“I can do zat”
Chekov gave a sigh of relief as he answered the last question of the Starfleet history test. It was finally over. He placed his PADD on the desk in front of him, and then groaned at the tingling he felt in his legs. They felt completely numb after sitting at his desk for such a long period of time.
The test hadn’t been so bad, but Chekov always reread every single question when it came to history tests. He never excelled in history the way he did in physics, although he usually did well enough. As a result, he often strained his eyes, rereading all of the passages, questions and tid bits.
Chekov was also quite tired from all of the preparation he did for this test.
He hadn’t even gone to the library after first period as Sulu suggested, because he felt that he needed to focus on studying for the history test. He took the time from every break in order to review what Sulu and him and had studied the night before.
However, Chekov made a promise to himself that he would go to the library after first period the following day, even if it was just to observe her.
As long as he got to see Uhura, the visit couldn’t be pointless.
“I have the scores of the test. If you would like to know what grade you have received raise your hand,” the history professor, Mr. Barrows, announced to the class.
Through Chekov’s peripheral vision, he noticed Sulu’s hand shoot up into the air.
It didn’t surprise Chekov. Sulu was always proud of his work, whether he achieved his set goal or not. When he didn’t, he would just mention that he would “try harder” and “get it next time,” then he would move on. Chekov never told Sulu, but he admired that mentality. That type of mentality that doesn’t allow you to give up.
If Karu is doing it, I might as well, Chekov thought.
Chekov slowly raised his hand and scanned the room to find a few other students timidly raising their hands.
Mr. Barrows similarly scanned the room and began announcing grades for everyone who raised their hand.
“Chekov, 89. Flores, 100. Smith, 76. Sulu, 93. Woodrow, 88…”
The bell rang.
“If I haven’t told you your score and you still wish to know what you’ve gotten, come to my desk,” Mr. Barrows shouted over the reverberate of the bell.
Chekov gathered his things and stood up from his desk. He could feel the numbness of his legs slowly alleviating. He waited until Sulu did the same and then walked out of the classroom with him.
“I did pretty good,” Sulu noted.
Chekov put a hand on the back of his neck, massaging the skin there. “I did as I usually do.”
Sulu turned his head to look at Chekov as they walked. His expression was reminiscent of someone who just remembered something.
“Did you go to the library to see Uhura?” Sulu questioned turning his head back to face the path ahead of them.
“No…Not yet. I studied for zis test instead; vich admittedly did not help much.”
Chekov put his arm down and sighed.
“You will do better next time, and an 89 isn’t bad anyway. Some people would feel crazy grateful to have that grade.”
Chekov slightly tilted his head to peer at Sulu, “Not you.”
Sulu laughed and then changed the subject. “Are you gonna see her tomorrow?”
Sulu looked over again to see Chekov’s melancholy expression.
“Hey,” Sulu offered “it will be fine”
Chekov bit his lip.
“You know what they say, if at first you don’t succeed, dust yourself off and try again.”
“I thought that vas from a 21st century song?”
“…Yeah it is. That counts as saying it…or singing it.”
Chekov laughed. Sulu had a way of cheering people up when they were down. It worked every time because the words of encouragement he offered were always words that he believed himself.
“What would you do without me?” Sulu asked with a wide grin.
“Die.” Chekov deadpanned.
Sulu’s lips changed form a curve into a straight line and they looked at each other with serious faces. A second later they simultaneously howled with laughter.
The laughter subsided and Sulu announced, “Welp, I gotta go take a nap, that test killed me.”
“Not as much as it killed me,” Chekov laughed, “I should probably go lay down too…bye Karu.”
“See you tomorrow.” Sulu waved with a smile and then strode off into the opposite direction.
Chekov put his hands in his pants pockets and continued to make his way to his dorm. Hopefully, his roommate wouldn’t be there so he could get some rest. He wasn’t.
A few minutes later, he made it to his dorm. Chekov punched in the passcode and entered the dorm when the door opened. He went to his room, dropped his things onto the floor, then plopped onto his bed with a sigh. It had been such a long day and Chekov was more exhausted than he let on to Sulu.
He immediately fell into a deep sleep.
Chekov screamed as he fell through what seemed to be endless sky. There was nothing but white below and above him and yet he continued descending, arms and legs flailing. Chekov was falling so fast he could hardly breathe and yet he managed to continue screaming. His heart beat furiously in his chest and all around him he felt heat engulfing him. Where was he? When would the falling stop? Was he dead?
Thousands of thoughts jumbled in his mind straining to find the answers when suddenly a giant room filled with shelves of books materialized below him. Chekov quickly braced himself for impact squeezing his eyes shut and positioning his arms at either side of him with his palm stretched and fingers spread apart.
A few seconds later he connected with the floor with a giant thud. He felt no pain but the feeling of breathlessness lingered. He leaned up peering around the room he was in. He slowly got up from the ground grunting.
The academy library, Chekov thought, why am I here?
Then his expression changed as he realized why he was there. He whispered “Nyota, of course” as he hit himself on the side of the head. Chekov allowed his blue eyes to sweep the room, looking for any sign of her. He found none.
He then began to search the room more intently walking in between shelves searching every corner until he finally spotted her.
Uhura’s back faced him as she looked through shelves upon shelves of books not even aware of his presence. She wore a small and simple black dress with the words “You can’t do it” on the back of it. Chekov’s eyebrows furrowed as he read the words. They angered him and he knew they were there to do so.
He took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and whispering “I CAN do it” to himself.
In the next second he took off after her, breaking into a run. Sweat quickly dripped from his curls swiveling down his forehead as heat began to engulf his entire body.
“NYOTA!” he called out fruitlessly.
In the pit of his stomach he could feel a whole forming calling attention to his nervous feelings.
“UHURA!” Chekov called out.
Uhura’ continued to grab books from shelves and scan them, not even noticing the Russian boy hauling over to her.
It seemed to Chekov the longer he ran, the longer the pathway ahead of him became, he wasn’t getting any closer to Uhura, but he had to reach her. He was determined.
He ran faster, the muscles in his legs flexing as he continued to dash in her direction.
As he ran, he suddenly caught a glimpse of something…or someone in the corner of his eyes. He tried to ignore it, attempting to only focus on her. Only on her.
He knew he could reach her. Chekov could finally talk to her, get to know her.
Suddenly Chekov felt a pair of hands pushing him and a second later he tumbled sideways onto the shelf to his left with an “oof.”
Chekov leaned upwards to see who pushed him, only to find someone he used to know; someone who used to bully him when he first came to America. Carver Brutus. Chekov’s brow furrowed as he looked him in the eyes. Why was he here? Chekov had wiped his hands clean of him when he left his old high school for Starfleet…or so he thought.
Carver snickered. “Well if it isn’t the Russian. Came to get beat up again?”
Chekov rose to his feet quickly attempting to push past Carver to continue his pursuit of Uhura only to be ripped backwards by the arm, causing him to fall hard against the shelf again.
More people quickly began to file in from either sides of the pathway, all sniggering at Chekov. He recognized them as the teenagers that had helped Carver bully him at his old highschool.
“Wait cupcake, where you running to?... To her,” Carver scoffed indicating to Uhura, “Don’t you see the words? You CAN’T do it. Face it, you’re not good enough. So just sit here and take this beating. That’s one thing you CAN do.”
The people around carver all howled with laugher in response to Carver’s words. Chekov looked around him, he was outnumbered and afraid. However, he quietly promised himself that he wouldn’t let it show.He would attempt to run again that’s the only thing he could do.
He looked into Carver’s eyes and shouted “You AREN’T going to bully me any longer, Zat’s one thing you CAN’T DO,” before pushing carver onto the ground and breaking into a run towards Uhura again. He pushed past several people making a bee line for Uhura.
You can do this Pavel, you can make it just a little closer.
He seemed to actually be making progress as Uhura’s figure came closer and closer into view.
Chekov knew the kids were chasing him by now so he picked up the pace getting closer and closer.
“Nyota!” Chekov screamed.
She responded by turning her head in his direction.
He finally made it to her. Chekov coughed numerous times before saying anything. His chest heaved up and down and he put his hands on his knees to steady himself.
“Ve haf to get out of here Nyota, they’re coming for us,” Chekov said quickly grabbing her arm in order to pull her away from the mob approaching. Uhura jerked her arm from his grasp.
Her eyebrows creased as she looked at Chekov’s face, a confused expression taking over her face.
“Who are you talking about? Who are you? Nobody is coming after us.”
Chekov returned the confused expression, turning his head to make sure the angry mob hadn’t disappeared. They hadn’t. The teens continued to run towards Chekov and Uhura, with Carver as their leader.
“They’re right here, if ve don’t get of here they’re gonna kill us. Ve haf to go Nyota.!” Chekov said more urgently attempting to grab Uhura’s arm again. She pulled away from him once again.
“Get off of me, I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you, Get away from me!” she shouted.
Chekov, stung by her words winced as he stood in place frozen.
He really wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t good enough to save himself from this mob, wasn’t good enough to know or talk to Uhura, wasn’t good enough to make it out of the library. What was the point of all of this? To discourage him from trying, to lower his self esteem? It was definitely working.
As he thought this the mob made it over to them.
Chekov was yanked by his arm with a scream and when he landed on the ground a flurry of his fists and feet pumbled him from all directions. Everything happened so quickly that he could hardly even scream. He squeezed his eyes shut as fists plunged into his sides, his face and his stomach. Chekov quickly felt multiple shoes scraping over his torso, his legs and his neck. Pain was all Chekov could feel from all sides and it literally knocked the breath out of him. He lost his will to fight and as he lay there limp getting beaten by his old classmates. He opened one eye and saw only a glimpse of Uhura as she walked away in the opposite direction. Chekov knew it was over; they would kill him. He felt multiple of his bones breaking and he tried to scream again but all of his breath was gone.
Chekov awoke with a start, sitting up from his bed quickly and shouting. He felt around his body with his hands, checking for bruises or gashes; any sign that he did get attacked. When he found none he sighed in relief, wiping cold sweat off of his forehead.
Although the mob and the attack weren’t real Chekov knew that the dream still held a message. His subconscious was attempting to psyche him out, trying to convince him that he wasn’t good enough for anything or anyone or Uhura. And it began to work. Chekov felt butterflies in the pit of his stomach and felt himself slowly falling into the depression he had suffered when he first came to America. He didn’t have an ounce of confidence at the time and he felt the little bit he had now ebbing away slowly. It was maddening being alone with his thoughts, constantly telling himself that he wasn’t good enough for her or anyone else.
Chekov had to distract himself or he would subconsciously convince himself not to approach Uhura.
Chekov quickly stripped out of his clothes and bolted into the shower. He turned and pressed a button to his right causing hot water to pour from the shower head. Chekov squeezed his eyes shut and chanted “I can do it!” to himself for the duration of the shower. He figured if chanting words of encouragement worked for Sulu, it could work for him.
When Chekov finished washing off he turned the water off, got out of the shower, quickly dried himself off and got dressed. His next plan was to distract himself so he wouldn’t think about the dream and his self-esteem. After dressing himself, he immediately dashed to the living room and threw himself into his work, pulling up multiple physics e-books on his PADD and studying chapters they hadn’t even reached in class. Whenever thoughts about the dream would materialize in his mind he would smack his head, seemingly knocking the thoughts out of his head and resumed his work.
By the end of the night the whole right side of his face was pink and he was worn out.
The words he was reading began to blur and he found that he had attempted to read the same line six times. It was definitely time for bed.
Chekov brought his PADD into his room setting it on his night stand. A second later he fell backwards onto his bed immediately falling asleep.
How was the second chapter? If it was boring I’m sorry but I felt that chapter 2 should be more of a Chekov’s history type chapter in order to establish his personality. I didn’t necessarily like this chapter as much as I did the first one, but I kinda wanted to get this out of the way so I can write the more interesting chapters. Chapter 3 will have more interesting things, promise! And hopefully I won’t take so long to write it.