So I'm pretty sure two chapters in one day is a personal record. But my reviews so far have been great, so I've had a little extra motivation. I want to thank my reviewers, random_chibi, Sam, Harelquin Sequins, really, PetiteDiable, RizzaLikePizza, and .wonderland. You guys are great, and that's what is keeping thes echapters coming!!
A totally unrelated factoid for everyone here: I usually listen to my most recently added music when I write, and as a result every time I sit down to write a new chapter of this story, I hear the All American Rejects song "I Wanna" every single time. It's a little weird.
The third time she saw Pavel Chekov, she wanted to send him away.
Natalia had been called home in the beginning of her second year at the Academy when her uncle died. She was gone for a full month to mourn and help her family transition into their new life. While she loved being home for the end of the summer season, the sunshine and beach weather made her family even sadder. While she loved her family, she was glad when she finally returned to school.
The morning of her arrival seem to slip everyone's mind. Though capable of finding her dorm and settling herself, she had been expecting someone to be there. Rachel, maybe, or her new friend Taylor from her required language class. She would have even expected Chekov to be there, but his bright smile was missing among the masses milling around. She was clearly mistaken, because even as she entered her dorm room, she found that Rachel had gotten ready for the day and left, her bed perfectly made as always.
Sitting down on her own bed, Natalia felt a wave of loss at not seeing any of her friends. She had spent the better part of the month writing to them, and they had responded. They knew exactly when she was supposed to be home, and though she didn't expect a parade, she did expect some acknowledgment.
Sighing, she fought back tears. This was stupid. She shouldn't be crying over something so trivial. She was fifteen, for crying out loud! That was beyond the point of crying for not reason, or a stupid reason. Still, she had missed her friends more than she expected, and she still hadn't dealt with the pain of losing a relative. She had insisted on being strong for her family, who needed her then. But now, in the abandoned dorm room, with Rachel's stuffed animal collection staring her down, she realized that she hadn't cried once in Spain.
She grabbed a pillow and sobbed, her shoulders shaking with multiple little hurts that suddenly seemed like a very big deal. She probably had a class to go to soon, but she refused. She was going to spend the rest of the day here in her room, sorting out all these stupid emotions. Only when she was back in order, and not so fragile, would she return to her studies. It should only take a few hours.
She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she heard the computer whirl to life outside the door. Her sobs had quieted down to whimpers, and in the silence of the room the hum of the computer working sounded like an engine.
That wasn't the only sound she heard. Accompanying the whirl of the computer was frantic muttering, accompanied by a few familiar, if indistinct curses.
"No, she said two. Two eight seven four…right?" There was more cursing as the computer denied the visitor access.
"Pavel?" Natalia whispered, pulling herself up off the bed and walking to the door. She typed in her own access code and the door opened, revealing the Russian scowling at the keypad in front of him.
"No, it must have a five." He shook his head, pursing his lips in concentration.
"It's open, you know." She said, just loud enough to be heard. He looked up, and the frustration was blasted away as he smiled.
"Nata!" He reached out and hugged the smaller girl, putting her in a slight state of shock. "I was hoping to get in before you got here, but I couldn't get the door code right, and then I had to go to class, but I knew you would want to see someone soon after arriving." He was rambling because he wasn't sure what to say. She had suffered a loss, so she should be sad, but he didn't know if she was one to show her pain.
"Come in." She said finally, breaking out of his grasp and pulling him towards the door. He entered, and the door closed with a hiss. She was furiously trying to hide her tears, but she wasn't fast enough.
"You have been crying?" He asked, following her to her former spot on the bed.
"No." She denied, though her voice was thick with tears.
"Yes, you have." He sat down next to her, feeling a little awkward. He had never lost a family member, nor did he have much experience with comforting people. He had silently been hoping that Rachel would be around for this part, the tears and sobbing and such. But just because he felt like the proverbial fish out of water didn't mean he was going to flop around and do nothing. He reached out and took her hand, slipping her finger through his, and moving closer to her. "You know, you can talk to me. I'll listen."
"I know you will." She said softly, trying to avoid his attentive gaze. He persisted in watching her, and finally she cracked a small, watery smile. "You're pushy like that." She said, turning to face him.
"I like to think of it as determination." He argued, keeping the banter light. She smiled again, but tightened her grip on his hand. "What is wrong?" He asked softly.
"Everything." She said, her voice cracking. "The whole time I was in Spain, I didn't cry once. I was sad, but I didn't cry. I couldn't. I don't know why, but I just couldn't. I couldn't let them see me that weak." She tried to pull away, but Chekov kept his grip on her. "I don't want anyone to see me this weak. Including you."
"You are not weak." He shook his head, still watching her every move. "You are one of the strongest people I know. You're just…in pain right now. It happens to everyone, you know."
"I don't care." She said furiously. "I don't want to be like everyone else. I don't want to feel this."
"It doesn't matter." He shook his head. "You have to feel it. You can't know all the good emotions if you don't also know the bad."
"You should have been a philosopher." She said bitterly, refusing to acknowledge the wisdom of his words.
"Perhaps I will be, once my time with Star Fleet is over." He shrugged, returning to his original topic. "But I am right about that. You have to go through this, you have to feel it. You will be better for it."
"Sure, whatever." She grumbled, lowering he gaze. She stared determinedly at his knee, trying to pull herself together. She had finally cried herself out, and now she was sensing a feeling in her stomach that told her that she was ready for the outside world again. Then her stomach rumbled, and she sighed. Maybe she wasn't ready for the outside world, but she was certainly ready for lunch.
"I made you miss you last class." She realized, looking up. He shrugged, looking away from Rachel's stuffed animals, which he had been eyeing suspiciously, as though he expected an attack.
"It is no problem." He reached up slowly and pushed the hair away from her face. "I will not need that class as a navigator."
"You will need it to graduate." She reminded him. He laughed, as though the thought of graduation wasn't a worry.
"You're hungry, and it is almost lunch time." He said, standing up and bringing her with him. "Now, go clean up, and I will wait here. We'll walk to lunch together." He gently pushed her towards the bathroom door, and she spared him a smile before she closed the bathroom door behind her.
"God, he's right." She said, looking in the mirror. "I look like holy hell." Her mascara had run down her cheeks, despite the promise of being waterproof. She had bitten her lip enough to turn it red, though she hadn't broken the skin. Shaking her head, she went to work cleaning herself off, attempting to look professional when she finally returned to her classmates.
She emerged a few minutes later, looking like she had spent the morning resting, and not bawling her eyes out.
"Much better." Chekov stood, straightening his uniform as she did hers. "We are both presentable now."
"Yes, we are." She agreed, and as he linked his arm through hers and led them to the door, she was glad she hadn't sent him away.