Title: A Second Chance
Summary: Chekov survived what should have been a fatal injury and Sulu takes it upon himself to look after him. [Pre-slash Chekov/Sulu]
Disclaimer: I do not own and never will.
Warning: Pre-Slash. Don't like don't read.
***
Sulu sat at a desk in his room with a book about botany open before him, pondering. His mind refused to focus on anything other than the young Russian ensign that he shared a bathroom with.
Sulu's mind refused to let the images of Chekov dying be put to rest. He was constantly reminded of the large pool of crimson blood forming as Chekov laid on the ground with a gaping hole in his side; his mouth not working but his eyes alert and aware of everything that was going on around him. He was constantly reminded of when Chekov slip away from them and died. He remembered McCoy's swearing as he fought to bring Chekov back. He would never forget the amount of blood there was; the stench of it not only would remain with him for the rest of his days, but every now and then he would he would catch a whiff of it on the air both on and off the Enterprise.
It wasn't just his mind that wouldn't allow him to rid himself of these images and phantom smells ...
... it was the young Russian navigator that he could hear moving around in the bathroom, chuntering away to himself in Russian that kept the memories alive.
How McCoy had managed to bring him back was unknown, but the fact remained - Pavel Andreievich Chekov should be dead.
Sulu knew Chekov was in a bad state. He made hourly check ups on him, even when he was asleep and nestled beneath his covers, to make sure he had everything he needed and that nothing unforeseen had happened to him. Sulu knew Chekov was in a lot of physical pain.
The pain was what made him restless.
Sulu knew all about the pain medication Chekov was on. He knew it's effect on Chekov; and when a loud bang followed by a yelp came from the bathroom, Sulu was on his feet and acting guardian once more.
Racing into the bathroom, Sulu found Chekov sat on the floor with fresh salty tears forming streams down his face whilst his pain medication was scattered across the floor. Chekov's shirt was forming a dark red patch and Sulu instantly knew that Chekov had re-opened his wound again. It was a sad state to behold. Every time Chekov woke up he would vow not to take anymore of his medication, but after an hour the pain would become too much for him and he would make the journey to the bathroom to hunt the medication out.
Motioning for Chekov to remain still, Sulu quickly cleared the medication up before removing Chekov's shirt and bandages so he could see the damage done. The wound was bleeding profusely as Sulu tended to it, re-bandaging it tenderly. Chekov swallowed hard and took short sharp in takes of breath to stop himself crying out in pain. He ground his teeth hard when Sulu accidentally caught the wound with his finger nail. Sulu knew he had inflicted pain unnecessarily on him and started to mutter 'sorry' over and over under his breath as he continued his work.
Sulu finished re-bandaging Chekov as quickly as he could and he couldn't help but notice how visibly thinner Chekov was.
"Have you taken any?" Sulu held the medication up for Chekov to see. Chekov shook his head, not wanting to talk because it would show Sulu the amount of pain he was in. Sulu quickly handed him a tablet and gave him a glass of water.
Chekov looked at the tablet in his hand and Sulu could see his desperate want not to take it; but Sulu could also see the side that wanted the pain gone. Sulu could only think that Chekov didn't want to seem weak; but since he was the only one (besides McCoy) who saw him in this state, Sulu began to think that Chekov didn't want to look weak in front of him.
Chekov gave in to the side that wanted the pain gone and took the tablet.
Sulu helped Chekov to stand and gestured for the Russian to lean against him. At first Chekov shook his head at the idea, but with the pain blinding and hitting him in waves, Chekov after several seconds gave in and leaned heavily against Sulu. Sulu helped him out of the bathroom and back into his quarters. The tablet was beginning to have effect and Chekov started to become drowsy, his head nodding and fatigue overpowering his limbs. The pain was also diminishing, but the price to be paid was to be put in a non-permanent coma for several hours. It was great to allow the body to heal; but days and weeks could pass in the blink of an eye if the patient was hurt bad enough.
Sulu sat Chekov on the bed and retrieved a new shirt for him. Chekov swayed with sudden overwhelming exhaustion while Sulu helped him put the shirt on. Sulu steadied him before pushing him back gently so he was laid on the bed. Chekov yawned while Sulu pulled the covers up over his chest.
"Thank you Hikaru". Chekov mumbled as his eyes lids became too heavy to attempt to keep open. Chekov sighed heavily and Sulu brushed some stray hair from his face gently. Chekov muttered something in Russian under his breath as he drifted off to sleep.
"Sleep well Pavel". Sulu whispered to him as he pulled the covers up to Chekov's neck before leaving and going back to his own quarters.
Sulu sat back down in front of his botany book once more and tried to distract his mind from the young Russian now sleeping in a non-permanent coma. He was witnessing a cycle that would no doubt repeat itself again in several hours time. Chekov will wake up again, vow not to resort to the medication, but after an hour or so of the pain would submit himself to it once more.
Sulu sighed heavily as he slouched in his chair, his arms crossed across his stomach while his mind was replaying the incident that left Chekov in his current state.
He knew that it should have been him instead of Chekov.
'If I had been more awake; if I had not been so easily distracted; if I had just looked around a moment sooner; if I had reacted faster; if I had ...' Sulu could spend the rest of his day finding new things that he believed that he should have done and ponder if in doing so if he would have spared Chekov. He knew Chekov had stood between him and the attacker on his own judgement, but Sulu still felt guilty that Chekov was put in the position to make that decision.
Sulu had been dismissive about his feelings towards the Russian up till that point. It was only when Chekov laid dying on the floor did he realise that what he felt for the younger man would not fade away like some crush; and only when Chekov laid dead on the table covered in blood did he realise that he had been a damn fool for not telling him. He thought that was it; Chekov was dead and nothing was bringing him back, but when McCoy managed to revive him he could have cried with relief. He didn't. It wasn't the done thing.
Everyday that now passed he considered the notion of telling him. He had no idea how he was going to express himself to the Russian and he had no idea if Chekov would even return his affections. Every time he thought that he would finally confess to Chekov he found he couldn't, Chekov's suffering stopping the words before they were spoken. Sulu knew that Chekov currently needed support from him and not some love confession. If he returned the affections then there was no problem; but if he didn't then it would make their friendship awkward or potentially end it; not to mention that Chekov might not want his help no matter how much he needed it.
No - he wouldn't burden Chekov with the knowledge - not yet.
There was a time and a place for everything; and it was neither the time nor the place.
Sulu knew he was getting a second chance; he just had to pick his moment to use it.
End.
A/N: I'm not sure if I should write a sequel to this. I'm thinking about it - I have the idea - but i'm still not sure.