A/N: Just a little - defiantly difficult to write - oneshot, written for a few reasons, but mostly for Annime1231 on DeviantArt. I should note that it contains Slash, (Chekov/Sulu, to be specific,) so if you don't like, please just don't read.
Also, as you might've guessed, I own none of the characters or settings mentioned in this fic.
This is only my second Trek fic, and the first being posted anywhere, so I would love you forever if you R&R'd. But I thank everyone out there who takes time to read this, even if you decide not to let yourself be known. Thank you!
"We are falling without a shoot! Beam us up!"
"Hold on, hold on--"
They were falling so fast...
"Do you copy? Beam us up!"
"Hold on, hold on, hold on--"
His hands were shaking...
"Hold on, hold on--"
He wasn't going to make it...
"Compensating gravitational pull, and--"
"--I got you! I got you!"
The harsh thud of Mr. Kirk and Sulu hitting the floor of the transporter was music to his ears.
The relief was short lived, however, as Mr. Spock immediately charged in - or, charged as much as Mr Spock charges, which is more like an authoritative stride - shooing the two younger men off the platform and commanding Chekov to beam him to the planet's surface. He was about to protest, but Kirk beat him to it. Not that the acting captain of the ship would be dissuaded from his self-inflicted rescue mission. And with time being such a commodity, there was little of it to waste on arguing.
Once Spock had beamed down, Kirk made an exasperated noise at the empty transporter before turning to Sulu, motioning to his slightly limp left arm - the one he'd slammed into the floor with just a few moments ago. "You should get that looked at. Why don't you head down to the sickbay--"
"I can take him, sir!" Chekov interrupted, just a little too enthusiastically.
There was a fraction of a second where Kirk simply cast a quizzical look between the two of them, but he was on top of the game again before the odd pause was even recognized. "No, Chekov, we'll need you here to beam up Spock and the Vulcan elders. Things aren't looking very good down there, it could get gritty..."
"...I'll...I'll Wait a moment..." Sulu said quietly, his voice slightly hoarse from all the excitement.
Kirk raised his eyebrow at the pilot.
"I, er....Need a chance to...catch my breath." He finished rather lamely.
Chekov felt his face redden, and turned away.
Kirk opened his mouth to inquire, but was cut off by Spock's voice floating up through the communicator. "Enterprise, this is Spock. Get us up now!"
Back on task, and desperately hoping his face did not look as hot as it felt, Chekov immediately went to work. After the rush of his last rescue, having his targets stand still was a blessing. As he was working, some part of his mind became aware of an arm gently brushing his shoulder, but time to cherish such things was not a luxury he had at the moment.
"Ok! All ready! Energizing in three, two--"
And just like that, one was gone.
"--I'm loosing her, I'm loosing her!"
He tried to get her back, but it was too late. Too fast.
"I lost her..."
The arm against his shoulder leaned in a bit. Fingers brushed the top of his hand.
"...I lost her."
...He could not look up.
He did not raise his eyes, did not speak another word as the acting captain and the Vulcan elders filed into the turbo lift. He could not bring himself to.
He'd...never lost anyone before.
"...Chekov, please take Sulu to the sickbay. I'll be on the bridge." Kirk's words finally brought him back to reality.
Chekov shook his head to clear it, and nodded, standing. "...I had her, Mr. Kirk. I had her, but...I lost her."
A hand grasped his shoulder. "Come on, Chekov." Sulu's grip tightened momentarily.
He nodded, getting to his feet and ghosting forward, half-guided by the pilot.
The door of the lift was barely closed when Chekov found his fingers fumbling at the delay button and his arms wrapping around him.
"Ch-Chekov--" he gripped tighter "--It's alright, it's okay." Sulu's good arm found its way around his back, pulling him closer. "It's not your fault, Chek. No one could've saved her."
"I...I could have lost you." He whispered into Sulu's shoulder. "Just a few more seconds, and I could've lost you, just like I lost her."
"...You know, there was a minute when I was falling...I really didn't think we were going to make it." He leaned back against the wall, and Chekov noticed for the first time his friend's legs were a bit shaky. He must've still been in shock over the whole thing. "But, you know what happened?"
Chekov, still buried in Sulu's shoulder, made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat.
"I heard your voice, and I knew that you'd get us up." He gave a reassuring squeeze to Chekov's forearm. "You weren't about to let us fall. No matter how hard it was to lock on."
And, despite himself, Chekov...smiled. Because, thinking about it...Sulu was right.
They didn't let each other fall.
"...This suit they put you in, it's not very comfortable to lean on." He lingered a moment more before pulling away, a small smile still on his face.
Sulu snorted. "Yeah, try wearing it."
Looking him over again, Chekov realized for the first time just how beat up the pilot was. "We really do need to get you to the sickbay. You look as if you're going to collapse any minute." He pressed the delay button once more, and the lift shuddered to life.
Sulu gave him a defiant look. "Oh, come on, I don't look that bad." He pushed off from the wall as the lift came to a stop, and nearly went tumbling to the floor. In fact, he would've, had Chekov not caught him.
"Yeah, that's what you said the last time. Then your leg turned out to be broken."
"Actually...Wasn't it broken in two places?"
"...That's enough, thank you."