GOOD NEWS - I have finished the entire fic, so I should (theoretically) be updating much more frequently! At least, I've finished a draft of the entire story. I'll still be going back and editing the later halves of each chapter - but the framework is in place at least :)

Thanks to all who reviewed and left comments. I like you. A lot. You make me so happy!

Disclaimer: I own some chocolate bars. You can have them. I don't like chocolate that much.


"Make yourself at home," Chekov says quietly when they get back to the flat. He tosses the keys into the empty clam shell on the table by the door, which catches Sulu's attention.

"Oh, hey, no way," he says, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. "This is from shore leave two years ago!"

"Yeah, when we went diving in the Bundalian Sea," Chekov says, leaning against the wall.

"That was a lot of fun," Sulu reminisces, smiling fondly when he thinks of the memory. "God, I'd never seen seas that blue."

"Or jellyfish that beautiful," Chekov adds.

Sulu laughs out loud, a staccato note of exuberance. "Remember when Jim said he'd catch one? Bones almost took his head off when we got back to the…" His voice trails off when he sees Chekov's face automatically shut down, guarded expression falling across like a veil. "Ship," he finishes, putting the shell down and shoving his hands in his pockets.

Chekov says nothing. He just turns and points at the open door. "The bathroom's right here if you need it. It's a small flat, you'll find your way around."

"Where are you sleeping?" Sulu asks, still looking at the shell.

"By the window." Sulu glances over to see the mattress shoved up against the windowsill. He also frowns when he sees how sunken it looks. "I've been saving up for more important things," Chekov explains when he catches Sulu's reproachful glance. "My mattress wasn't one of those."

"I can always spare you some money," Sulu offers.

"No, thanks." Chekov shrugs. "I'm not a charity case."

He doesn't mean for it to come out sounding bitter, but it does, and Sulu flinches.

They set about in silence, Sulu unpacking his backpack and spreading it across Chekov's flat. It's easy for the former pilot, Chekov reflects when he takes inventory of everything Sulu has with him – a shirt to change into, sleepwear, toothbrush, toothpaste, comb… it's easy for him to leave, he can't help but think.

Sulu comes out of the bathroom, cracking his knuckles. "I have all my clothes stored away in the storage unit," he says, "back at Starfleet. I'll get those eventually."

Chekov nods. "Okay." He's unsure of what else to say other than that, really. Today has just been him not being sure of anything.

Like the diner. He wonders what possessed him to ask Sulu to stay with him. Sure, the flat felt deserted without someone else staying with him, but this was Sulu, a man he hadn't spoken to for six months. At least Scotty had kept in contact with Chekov, called every few months to say hi, came over to visit when he could. Sulu hadn't even called.

Some part of him reasons that it was most likely because he was lonely, and like it or not, once upon a time he had been best friends with Hikaru Sulu. Maybe it was time to remember why.

"So," he says in an effort to make conversation. "Any big plans for today?"

"Not really," Sulu says wearily, sitting on the couch. "My big plan was coming to see you. After that I was planning on going back to Starfleet, talk to some people." He yawns. "Sorry. It's been a few sleepless nights."

"Well, if you don't want to go to Starfleet today, we can always explore the city," Chekov says, turning around and walking towards the kitchen. His voice is muffled as he adds from inside the fridge, "They've finished renovating the de Young, we can always go stare at some artwork. You like doing that, don't you?"

No answer. Chekov withdraws his head from the fridge to see Sulu completely knocked out. He can't help but grin at how stupid Sulu looks with his mouth open and slack, snoring lightly with his head thrown back on the couch. "Alright, I guess that's not an option," he chuckles softly, grabbing the blanket and gently draping it across Sulu's shoulders.

As Sulu shifts and pulls the blanket towards him, Chekov heads back to his side of the room, where the screen waits for him by his bedside table. He pulls the hologram back up again, scrolling through the various pictures, scrutinizing each one for something. He doesn't know what; all he knows is that he wants to find something. An omen, maybe. Something that told him that all this was going to come to an end. Something that told him this was planned by the cosmic powers that be, that what happened wasn't an accident, that what happened could have been avoided.

Chekov thinks that maybe he'd be okay if that was something that happened according to plan, not something that was an 'accident'.

He keeps coming back to the snapshot of his friends at his birthday celebration, keeps on remembering little sensory details from that day. Uhura's perfume. Spock's almost smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Bones' exasperated, wicked jabs at Kirk. Kirk's cheerful laugh. Scotty's thick Scottish brogue. Sulu's crisp voice mingling with the chatter. These things remind him of home, of family.

Chekov is startled out of his musings by a hand laying itself hesitantly on his shoulder. "Hey," Sulu says gently.

"Sorry," Chekov says hastily, turning the screen off and standing up. "I was just-" He stops, not sure what he should say, so he just leaves it hanging. Sulu knows enough to fill in the blanks.

Chekov figures that Sulu is going to change the subject, because that's how he knows Sulu is. He runs. His whole life has been spent running from things that bother him, things that worry him, things that make him uncomfortable. Even his choice to be a pilot reflects this – always leaving something, always putting something behind him, a port, people, family, friends. It's something that's never bothered him. Until now.

Instead, Sulu gestures to the bed – "May I?" – and takes a seat next to Chekov, surprising the Russian. Wordlessly, he hands the screen over to Sulu, sitting down next to the pilot.

"It's yours," he says when Sulu takes it with a questioning glance. "You left it the day you went back to the Enterprise."

Sulu's mouth forms an "oh" as he takes it and flicks it back on. They both watch the hologram as it revolves slowly, filling the dim room with its blue, ethereal light. Finally, Sulu breaks the silence. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Chekov asks, still staring at the hologram.

"For leaving." Sulu reaches out and puts a finger on the flickering image of Spock and Uhura. "I should have stayed."

"You wouldn't have been happy," Chekov says, wanting to agree with him but feeling bound by a desire to gloss over this entire situation.

Sulu's lack of response expresses his agreement with Chekov's assessment, and they both sit in silence, unsure of how to bridge this rift between them; so they leave it at that, and let their ghosts wander through their memories.


We'll get a bit of rising action soon - I know it's been a bit slow lately... but it's coming, I promise.

Let me know what you think, as always!

Much love,
ohlookrandom