So I really wanted to write 10 things Jim Kirk learned about Pavel Chekov, and the one thing Pavel Chekov taught Jim about himself, for a long time, and I finally did it. So here you go! (Whoever reads this, thanks!)
No slash, 2009-verse, un-beta-ed, sorry
I don't own it
Please tell me what you thought, any improvements, any thoughts you have. I love to hear from you guys!
…..
1.
He never liked space all that much.
For Jim Kirk, the allure of the deepness wasn't primary either… he just had to be better, and that echoed into everything he did. But for Chekov, well, apparently that was his only way out. Starfleet rescued him from whatever it was he was running away from. And yes, Jim knew he had been running. Weren't they all?
2.
Chekov was alone.
When Kirk arrived off the transport to Starfleet academy, he'd had Bones hanging on him, slightly drunk, mostly just grumbling, "dammit" and "God, Kirk, you smell like hell." He didn't know where he was going, but he knew there was a Christopher Pike somewhere in his future, and he knew very well that somehow he would get there- maybe past there.
But Chekov was alone. He saw the kid that same day, in the vibrant red uniform, hugging a stack of thick books about Astronomy and Calculus to his thin chest, pushing against the current of older, taller, stronger students. He was alone.
Jim later found out that he stayed over on holidays at Starfleet; as he explained it, "Russia is wery far away, Kepten."
3. His first job was at a bar.
In Russia, explained Pavel one night after drinking too many shots of vodka for someone his size, kids drank a lot more than you'd think.
Jim was watching in amazement as Pavel downed another. He wasn't even swaying, and his eyes were still bright and playful. He listened to Chekov telling a mostly drunk Scotty about his first job.
"I was just a keed, only fourteen, meybe. Well, they made bets on me and another guy to see who would pass out first, and how much vodka we could take. I learned to hold my leequor in Russia, and I can hold it een space just the same. I am the leeving proof that no amount of leequor takes down a Chekov!" he explained, grinning. Jim could not tear his eyes away, for the first time feeling a little tingle of irritation with himself that he was actually amazed.
4. He has broken eight bones in his life.
Three aboard the Enterprise; his nose, his wrist, and his right pointer finger. He doesn't talk about the other five, but one of his ribs is crooked, and his right knee sometimes still hurts him during warp.
5. He speaks English for one reason only.
To spite his Papa. That one was a delirious-Chekov confession. He never said anything about it after that, but Jim knows that he remembers saying it. Things have been shifty between them ever since .
6. Chekov and Jim share a hate of Doctors, being told no, and losing a fight.
No more can be said except that a beaten up, angry teenage genius, who just wants to go to work instead of laying on a medical table for two hours while his skin regenerates… well that's possibly more scary and labor intensive then reading Jim's allergy list.
7. Chekov doesn't talk to Spock anymore.
After the incident of losing Amanda Grayson, he stopped speaking to most everyone so abruptly that Kirk almost lost it.
But it was Spock he avoided the most, and Bones just kept nagging Jim to talk to the kid, and eventually he tried, but Chekov was asleep; sure he was pretending. Jim has pulled the same stunt a thousand times. If Chekov can't come to him on his own will, he'll never come again.
8. Pavel doesn't wear short sleeves anymore.
Jim doesn't ask why. He should. But the conviction stirs too near to his own problems that he can't even start to talk to the kid.
9. Today marks the second time Chekov has tried to kill himself. Nobody know but Jim, Bones, and some old doctors in Russia that this isn't the first time.
A security detail was sent to find out why Chekov missed his shift by three hours and wouldn't respond to the comm messages. They found him on the floor of his bathroom, shaking and crying with a bottle of antidepressants rolling across the faux tile like a fine lady's pearls. He lost consciousness, and was brought to medbay immediately, sleeping through Bones's curses, Jim's silent worry, Sulu's angry katana slashes in the empty sparring room, Uhura's silent crying in the turbolift, Scotty's wild drinking in an empty engine room, and Spock's self-induced coma of meditation.
He sleeps through days and weeks and almost a month. He's awake, but him mind is asleep.
10. Chekov is strong.
He isn't alone. None of the crew will let him be. No one leaves him alone, which could be bad, but may just be on the road to very good.
He doesn't cry as much, and the painful red marks of a blade over his wrists and arms are ghosting to white.
He doesn't talk very much either, but Jim sees his first smile again, and is there in the doorway when Spock mind melds with Chekov. He's there to see the Vulcan's face darken, and a tear fall down his cheek. And see Bones cradling Chekov when he wakes up from a nightmare. It's good to see Bones's fatherly side coming out.
But it's even better to see Pavel coming alive. He starts speaking in mixed English and Russian, and a little Gaelic, which no one knew he could do except one very proud Scotty.
Chekov is so strong. And his family is there to hold him up when he can't anymore. And that is more than okay, isn't it?
And the one thing Chekov taught Jim about himself:
Never wait. If the whole Kahn incident wasn't enough, this was. He lost Pike, but then, there had been nothing to save. But here was a life that had almost slipped through his fingers. And he almost let it.
So Jim Kirk sat down one evening and talked it out with Chekov. For hours, going in circles, going up against painful walls. Tears, joy, fear, exhaustion. But this was what he promised when he made his oath. He wouldn't lose Chekov. He wouldn't lose any of them.
Not a single one.