Work Text:
Pavel ran away from his family home when he was only fifteen, a young, hopeful, science prodigy who dreamed of exploring the stars. Having just finished college - the youngest to graduate with top marks, they said - he planned his next move to learn at the Academy, to join Starfleet. Of course, his parents didn't want that for their little boy; they wanted him to stay and further his studies and stay on Earth. He didn't want that - he wanted to travel the universe and boldly go where no man has gone before! Honestly, he couldn't truly do that stuck on Earth unless he somehow found a way to reach the center of the Earth (it'd be too hot, he thinks, and no one has invented lava-resistent clothing just yet).
So he ran away. He reached the Academy after finding his way from Russia to America and trained to be a navigator, expanded upon his knowledge of wormholes and interstellar travel, all under two years. All of his professors showered him with praise because he was only seventeen when he graduated from the Academy. Not only that, but he was seventeen as well when he was assigned to the Enterprise, the youngest member of Starfleet to work on a ship to date. If anything, that was his proudest achievement.
But when he's alone with just his thoughts for company, he remembers his family that he hasn't seen in two, almost three, years. He wonders what they're doing, if they miss him, if they'd be proud of him. He finds that he misses them; his mother's amazing cooking and warm hugs, his father's beaming, prideful grin when he brings home yet another perfect grade. Sometimes he just sits there, lost in a sea of old memories that he'd drown in if his comm didn't beep or if the Captain didn't make a ship-wide announcement.
Unfortunately, he's by himself in the control room, finishing up some last minute data, when he quickly slips into a memory.
There's an emotion that was never there before in his Papa's eyes. It's like a mixture of pride, happiness, and nostalgia all wrapped in one. He wonders where the nostalgia comes from until he remembers that his uncle was apparently a lot like himself and suddenly he can understand why his Papa feels this way. He gives him a small smile.
"Good job, Pasha!" his father says in their mother tongue, his eyes crinkling, and he claps his massive hand onto his son's shoulder, who barely manages not to stumble under the unexpected weight.
His mother tsks at his father, reprimanding him, though in a playful manner. "Andrei, you'll crush the poor boy!"
Andrei only chuckles. "He is fine. He is Chekov man!"
Pavel only grins wider, practically touching his ears with how large his smile is. He can feel the strain on his cheeks, an ache that's slowly settling in, but finds that he can't stop smiling despite how much it starts to hurt. His mother and father are having this entertaining sort of banter, and it's so wonderfully them that he only laughs when his father unintentionally said something to anger his mother.
Their attention turns to him. "What is it?" his father asks, eager for a distraction for his angry wife.
"Nothing," Pavel says after a moment. "Just... nothing."
He can feel a sense of longing in his chest, in his body (he wonders why people say in their chest when he can feel it creep into every-single-thing, including his toes). Belatedly he realizes that he's been crying, tears rolling down his cheeks and his nose dripping with snot. He sniffles, wipes his face, and tries to make his stuttered hiccups turn into something resembling breathing.
Once he's calmed, it takes him a moment to remember that he's not in his room, and he looks around frantically, searching the room for anyone who could have caught him, a usually cheerful boy, crying pathetically for no reason. No one's there, thankfully, and Pavel sniffles again before closing down his station, hurrying to his room. Maybe he'll be able to get at least a few hours of sleep before he needs to report on deck for his daily duties, navigating the endless black of space with the crew of the Enterprise.
And maybe tomorrow, he'll write to his parents and see how they're doing.