Title: Blood Flow

Summary: [Kirk/Chekov]. Chekov has amnesia after a battle. Character death.

Disclaimer: I do not own and never will.

Warning: Slash. Don't like don't read.

A/N: It's beginning to look like i only write tragedies for this pair. I will make it up to anyone who notices this pattern but for now, another tragedy fic for those of you who chose to read it. Hope you like!

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Chekov was walking around dazed and confused. Crew members ran past him in both directions in the corridor but none noticed his presence in their rush to be where ever they needed to be. Chekov placed a hand on his head. He felt strangely distant, separated from reality almost, but the feeling was passing and leaving him with a strange case of amnesia.

He couldn't remember how he had ended up where he was. He recognised the people running past him, some by name and others by their faces. He remembered his name, his rank, his job, how old he was and his academy days which he went through for his own sanity, but how he wound up in that corridor and what he was doing just before what ever happened drew a blank in his mind.

Chekov walked with his head up to see if anyone who ran past him might be able to help him sift threw the fog in his mind. His eyes widened when he saw Kirk running towards him and immediately fell in next to him, trying to get his attention.

"Keptain?" Chekov started to break stride with him and drop back sensing something was wrong. "Keptain?" he hesitated. "Jim?" His voice small. Chekov followed Kirk at a distance down the corridor and into a room. It struck him as odd that Kirk had a panicked look about him before he followed him into the room.

Chekov began to tremble when he saw his body laid before him, broken and twisted. Bones were protruding from his skin and blood saturated what was his gold coloured uniform turning it from gold to a deep crimson red. His lips were blue, his arms and legs was bent at an unnatural angles and his eyes were still open, blank and empty of life. Kirk was knelt next to his empty shell of a body, his eyes shinning with unshed tears.

Chekov wailed in pain as he crumpled to the ground, grief over powering him and leaving him sobbing on the floor. He crawled closer to his dead body and as he touched it with his outstretched hand, images of what happened surged through his mind. He saw how he had died, how his body became as it was laid before him, how he had been impaled by a metal pole and how it's momentum kept it going, making it passed right threw him. Chekov trembled with horror and shock while all colour drained from his face. As he continued to hold his hand over his dead body, he began to smell the overpowering stench of death. He withdrew his hand and the smell disappeared, but the same could not be said for the images that now filled his mind.

McCoy appeared next to Kirk. He himself was injured but was ignoring it in order to do his duties as the ships doctor. He took one look at Chekov's twisted body and shook his head. "He's dead Jim." Kirk didn't acknowledge the comment. McCoy placed a hand on kirk's shoulder causing kirk to look around at him. "It was fast and painless Jim."

"How can you tell that?" Kirk asked wanting to believe the doctors words.

McCoy thought off replying in his usual cantankerous tone that he was a doctor and not a ghost whisperer, but with the events of the battle the wall he usually hid himself behind had broken down in more places than one. Instead he spoke softly which made Kirk move his attention from Chekov's dead body back to McCoy. "His face Jim; there's no expression of pain, hurt or fear. He was dead before he knew what had happened."

"You believe that?" Kirk asked, gaining and holding eye contact to see if McCoy was telling him the truth or was instead feeding him a lie to make him feel better.

"Yes, i do believe that." McCoy held the stare for several seconds and Kirk could not find or sense a hint of a lie in his words. Silently McCoy stood up and left to go where he was needed. There were many casualties that we not yet fatalities and McCoy needed to see to them before the number of dead rose considerably. Kirk remained next to Chekov's dead body for a while longer, silent tears rolling down his face.

Chekov sat at the other side of his dead body, his eyes blood shot and throat sore from crying. He sat and watched the captain silently cry, wishing that Kirk knew that he was sat watching him. He was so close to him, but yet so far. He would no longer feel the captain's fingers trailing down his side, or experience the captain expertly kissing his collor bone and shoulders. He would no longer be able feel his breath on his neck when Kirk gave him a surprise hug after sneaking up on him, and he would no longer be able to run his hands over Jim's stomach and touch and admire his body like he had done several times before.

He would no longer feel Kirk's comforting strong arms around him, no matter how much he needed to feel them at that moment.