Chapter Text
Lieutenant Riley was a well known eccentric. That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t well liked - in fact, his natural swagger and confidence had made him highly popular with the rest of the crew. So the eccentricities weren’t so much ignored as accepted. The way he always had protein bars on him, or hidden away in various different spots on the ship so if he got peckish he could instantly eat, was such a part of every day Kevin Riley that people just accepted it.
Well, that was until the newest batch of recruits came aboard. Kids who were yet to be exposed to the various antics of the crew, who had no idea where the various crew's boundaries lay. They were sitting in the dining hall, Riley devouring the food on his plate ravenously, while one of the newbies watched incredulously.
"I swear you've been eating protein bars all day. How are you not full yet?"
"Practice," Riley replied, jovial as every, although the light of laughter didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Man, you would never survive in a famine, would you?"
The lieutenant's hands gripped the cutlery so hard the knuckles turned white, food not moving towards his mouth.
“Everything okay, Kevin?" Sulu asked.
He smiled, a fake, strained one that made Sulu edgy.
“Yea. Just feel an oncoming headache. I think I might just head off to bed.”
That was something that rarely happened. Riley liked to be in the thick of everything. The thought of going to bed early and missing out on any of the ship’s gossip was usually an idea he vehemently opposed - he was known to end up passed out, asleep on the table after a double shift rather than retire to his quarters early.
“Do you want me to accompany you back to your quarters? You can always do with some company in those turbo lifts.”
“I can get back on my own. I’m not some helpless little kid.”
The words were spat, bitingly, and as Sulu flinched Riley’s face softened.
“Sorry. That was uncalled for. But I’m fine, Hikaru. I just need a nap and I’ll be right as rain.”
Sulu didn’t push his friend any further. If it was something important, Riley would confide in him in his own time. For now, he could just let him leave the mess, shoulders slumping in a way that should not ever appear on someone like Kevin Riley.
James Kirk ran into the young Lieutenant as he was heading to the mess post shift.
“Lieutenant,” he greeted as they passed each other. To his surprise, the Lieutenant ignored him, walking past with his eyes focused steadily on the floor. It was out of character for Riley not to greet someone enthusiastically as he sauntered past, let alone completely ignore his commanding officer and old time friend.
“Kevin, is everything okay?” he repeated, reached out to grasp his shoulder comfortingly. Riley snapped to attention, eyes wide with panic that faded just as quickly as it had appeared.
“Yea. Yea, I’m fine, Captain.”
“Are you sure? It’s not like you to not greet a fellow crewman in the hallway.”
“I’m just tired, sir. Permission to retire to quarters, sir?”
“Permission granted. But Lieutenant, remember that you’re always able to talk to me about any concerns you have.”
Riley nodded, fidgeting for a moment, before allowing himself to speak ever so softly.
“Someone commented on my eating habits.”
Kirk nodded, understanding completely.
“I’m sorry. I’m probably the last person you want to see right now. Retire to your quarters, Lieutenant.”
Riley nodded, scarpering off as fast as he was able. He couldn’t even bring himself to be anything but grateful when the next day a notice went about the ship stating that, due to the fact that eating disorders are still common in this day and age, any comments about another crew member’s weight or eating habits from persons who were not medical professionals in a medical setting would not be permitted and would result in being disciplined. When he thanked Kirk for it, the Captain just ruffled his hair.
“It was the least I could do, Kev. And it’s not like you’re the only one who needed it.”