I just saw Into Darkness and was slightly disappointed about the movie's lack of Chekov- I feel like he only got five minutes of screen time altogether! I've decided to remedy this with this fanfic, as a sort of explanation of what happened behind the scenes at the end, when Kirk and Spock were being emotional (THE ACTING! GOOD GOD, DID THEY THINK I COULD HANDLE THAT? I'M A WRITER, NOT A VULCAN!).

I do not own Star Trek. To make that presumption would not be logical. Also, please just imagine the accent.

Chekov slumped to the ground, letting his chin fall onto his chest for a moment as his ragged breaths dragged on in-between screams and the blares of sirens. He had done it, he had flicked the switch. Was breathing always this hard? In, out, repeat, in, out, repeat. He was in a nice little bubble all alone, and nobody was dying.

The Enterprise jerked around again, the entire ship groaning as it spun through the atmosphere. He spun around, scrambling to find anything to grasp onto. He slid down to the left, and then into the air, hands clasped around the handle of the console he had just opened. Cold blood flushed through him and left as soon as it had come, leaving his fingertips warm and loose. Maybe he couldn't hold on. Maybe he could just let go for a second and let his hands-

The ship righted itself. Chekov stumbled as he stood, shakily supporting his legs by leaning against the controls. Okay. He was fine. He hadn't just almost died.

One step away, down the maze of walkways, pretending that he wasn't struggling to stay upright, imagining he wasn't being constantly thrown against the railings. After a distance he looked up, up at the straining pipes and numerous railings, because he didn't want to see the dead bodies. He wasn't sure if he could keep walking if he did.

Right on cue, he stumbled over a dead body, catching himself and staring right into the woman's face. She couldn't have been all that much older than he was, maybe in her early twenties. Her blood was hardly noticeable against her red uniform.

He didn't make a sound, almost worried that he would wake her and bring her back to the chaos. This hadn't come up in his training. What do you do for the dead?

Righting himself, he found the woman's closed eyes, and nodded at her, raising his hand into a Vulcan salute, just like Spock did.

Then he continued to walk on towards the direction that Scotty and Kirk had headed in, stopping at a blinking screen to figure out what was going on. He watched for a few minutes, feeling like he was only viewing a documentary of some ancient tragedy. The ship's coordinates rapidly changed, altitude dropping and dropping. For a moment he thought he could fix it- he could solve everything! Bringing up a different screen, he entered a few codes to get to the right control software.

He overrode a few locks before reaching the screen he had been expecting: ACCESS DISABLED DUE TO SYSTEMS FAILURE. Naturally. He was just Chekov- he couldn't save anyone.

And then he was walking and crying at the same time, to find the captain and whoever else was better than him at dying gracefully.

Yet he didn't die, because something changed: the Enterprise stopped rocking back and forth, the falling stopped screaming, and lights and machinery came to life. The exact opposite of the people.

And he wasn't dead- therefore, none of his crew could be dead.

"CAPTAIN! MR. SCOTT!" He hollered, lurching forward and flying down the walkway, skimming down a flight of stairs.

His eyes caught onto the sight of Scotty, and for a moment everything was perfect. Everyone had to be fine. His smile reappeared while he took the stairs, three at a time until he tripped, then just two.

"Mr. Scott, we've-" He began to say, ignoring the way his breathing was getting in the way of his words like his hair was getting in the way of his eyes.

"Chekov."

"Where's Captain?" Chekov tilted his head, looking up at Scotty. Why was he staring?

"I want you to stay right here, alright? Sit down, breathe."

"Where's the captain?" He was quieter this time.

Scotty didn't respond and waved at a bench in front of the nearest console.

"Where is he? Where? What's wrong?"

"Sit down."

And then he knew exactly what "sit down" meant. "Captain!"

Chekov didn't sit down. Spock sailed past him, Scotty stepping aside to let him through without a word. His mind set to work: someone had to have entered the main engines to have repaired the power. The radiation would have killed them.

Kirk was gone.

"Let me through!"

"Ach! No!"

"Nyet!" Chekov shook his head at his accidental Russian. "Please."

They both fell silent while they listened to Spock talking to the captain, his voice a low rumble.

Scotty placed a hand on Chekov's shoulder. "Let them be. You don't need to see this." He sat down, leaning against the wall, and pulled the boy down next to him.

Chekov stared ahead.

Spock talked to Kirk.

Scotty sighed. Seventeen was too young for this.