Title: A Certain Sense of Guilt

Fandom: Star Trek: AOS

Rating: PG

Characters: Spock & Chekov

Word Count: 805

Summary: Chekov seeks Spock out after he leaves the transporter room.

As the group from Vulcan materialized on the transporter platform, Chekov gazed over, hoping that his eyes would somehow refute what the control panel told him. But as swirling particles seemingly made flesh from thin air, the empty spot to which Spock held an outstretched hand demonstrated that the instruments hadn't been in error. Silence fell over the room and Chekov's heart sank as he watched Spock try to reassert control over himself, his pained expression as his arm slowly fell to his side shifting with effort into blankness. After a moment's pause, the first officer left, stepping awkwardly past the empty transporter pad to exit amid the stares of crew and other Vulcans. As the doors to the transporter room hissed closed, Chekov gazed down at the control panel before him, unsure why the skill he'd employed during the last minute rescue of Sulu and Kirk had fled him.

Later, Chekov found himself outside of the door to Spock's quarters where the Vulcan had retreated to gather his inner calm. The ensign was half sure that he would be intruding, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there were things that needed to be said. His hand hovered over the keypad in a moment of indecision, but in the end, he worked up enough courage to ring for entry. Spock bid him to enter and he crossed the threshold, giving the room a cursory glance. It was as neat and organized as he would have expected from the man, sparsely furnished with little in the way of decoration. Chekov's gaze fell upon the Vulcan sitting in a chair off to one side of the room. Dark eyes gazed up at him from a seemingly placid face, but Chekov imagined he saw more in their depths.

Spock broke the uncomfortable silence that had fallen in the room. "Is there something that I can assist you with, ensign?"

"Ah, yes, sir," Chekov began with some nervousness, "Well, actually, I wanted to offer my condolences, sir. And to apologize."

A faint frown marred Spock's face. "I must ask for what do you believe an apology is necessary?"

Chekov averted his eyes briefly before they returned to gaze at the area above Spock's left shoulder. "It was because of me, sir, that your mother..." Chekov trailed off with some unease. Spock continued to gaze steadily in his direction with no sign of the previous emotion he displayed in the transporter room. Pavel wished suddenly that he had the courage to move forward, to reach out and lay his hand upon the Vulcan's shoulder. To squeeze in a gesture of comfort for the pain that he'd seen previously, for the emotion that now lay hidden behind practiced barriers. But he knew the act wasn't likely to be well received. Instead, Pavel's fingers twitched as he held his hands clasped behind his back. "I'm sorry, sir. Truly sorry," he offered finally.

Spock gazed across at the other man before he rose from his chair, striding over and causing Chekov to raise his head to look at him. "There is nothing you need to apologize for, ensign. I reviewed the data regarding what occurred and I could find no fault with your actions. Given how the ground on which she stood destabilized," he said, pausing a bit too long to be merely contemplative, "there was little that could have been done given the limits of transporter technology."

Chekov blinked, his round wide eyes fixed on Spock. "You're very generous, sir. You must be in so much pain, and yet you can... thank you, sir," he said earnestly.

"Generosity has little to do with it, ensign. I am merely stating the logical conclusion one must come to given the information at hand. While I appreciate your concern for my well-being, you needn't distress yourself over it."

"Ah, I see. If there is anything you need from me, sir," Chekov started, but then frowned as his words trailed off, berating himself inwardly. What would the man need from him of all people?

"You need only to continue to perform as well as you have to this point, ensign," Spock chimed in to say. "It is likely that you are needed more on the bridge than you are here."

"I thank you for your time, sir," he said. "I won't intrude on your privacy any longer." Chekov tried not to let the strange sense of disappointment he felt at what he saw as a dismissal show on his face.

He had begun to turn away when Spock's voice brought him to a halt mid step. "I did not find your visit to be an intrusion, ensign. As I said, I appreciate your concern."

Chekov found Spock's dark eyes and expression unreadable, but strangely enough, his heart felt lighter all the same. "Aye, sir."

End