Title:
Please Stay
Author: hihielmo
Characters:
McCoy/Chekov, Spock/Chekov (implied)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Star Trek doesn't belong to me.
Word
Count: 1,653
Warnings: There is graphic rape
in this story. If this is not your thing please don't read.
Summary: Obviously
the doctor has nothing to feel guilt about. After all it was Pavel
who had brought the booze to McCoy's cabin. It was him who insisted
he stay to finish the bottle. It was him who hadn't fought back
hard enough.
Notes: Written for a prompt at st_xi_kink.
When Chekov wakes up all he can think about is the hurt running through his body and the warm body curled up next to him. The urge to be sick drives him to struggle his way out of the strangers embrace.
The pain in his backside burns and Pavel stumbles.
"Computer," he mumbles, voice horse and throat sore, "Lights." He squeezes his eyes shut, adjusting to the lights. Memories of last night come flooding back to him in flashes.
He's screaming and struggling. The man above him shushes him loudly before continuing to slide him shirt up. And god he wants to struggle but all that vodka from before had made him drowsy and his movements sluggish.
"Please stop," he slurs out, unable to focus on the way the stranger rubbed his nipple.
"Quiet Pavel," the man's voice is familiar but his buzz it making it impossible to think.
His eyes snap open and he cries out, reacting to the memory. So the man on the bed, was the one who had done… that to him? Turning slightly, afraid of what he'd see, Chekov looked at the man's face.
"Doctor?" he asked, shocked to see McCoy's face on the body wrapped in the sheets. McCoy stirred, waking, and Chekov stumbled back in spite of himself, unable to control his own body. Bolts of pain shoot up his spine from his sudden movement and he lets out a pain filled scream.
At this, McCoy sits straight up in bed looking extremely confused and alarmed. He meets Chekov terrified eyes and scrambles to his feet. He then realizes he is naked and, blushing, wraps the blood encrusted sheet around his waist. Chekov fights the bile climbing up his throat.
The man, who Chekov now recognizes as the good doctor, the one he had invited to drink with him, slides his own trousers off to reveal his hardness. At the sight Chekov fights on as hard as his alcohol addled brain allows. It doesn't help much, not with the way McCoy is pressing his body down and yanking his thighs apart.
"Shut up," McCoy growls, angrier then Pavel had ever heard him before as he opens him mouth to scream. The older man's hand slides up his thigh and rests on his ass.
His world twists and explodes as McCoy thrusts into him and not even McCoy's hand over his mouth can completely muffle the agonized scream that tears out of him.
"Oh my God," McCoy whispers, as he surveyed Chekov battered body and Pavel can see the memories light in the doctor's eyes. McCoy suddenly looks as horrified as he feels. And suddenly, Chekov can't understand why. Obviously the doctor has nothing to feel guilt about. After all it was Pavel who had brought the booze to McCoy's cabin. It was him who insisted he stay to finish the bottle. It was him who hadn't fought back hard enough.
"Pavel," McCoy stepped forward and Chekov fought the overpowering instinct to flinch away from him. "God, I am so unbelievably sorry." Chekov shrugged, almost afraid to open his mouth.
"It's fine," he whispered, even though no, no it's not. But that's not McCoy's fault. God, all he wanted was McCoy to leave so he can shower. His skin is crawling and he can feel the blood on his thighs.
"No, dammit, it's not fine!" McCoy shouts, frustrated. Pavel really does flinch away from him this time. Memories fight to the surface again, and Chekov pushes them back, annoyed and afraid.
"We need to go the medical bay," McCoy says gently, obviously seeing the way the seventeen year old reacted to his yell.
"No!" Pavel protests, swaying on his feet slightly and trying to ignore the screaming pain still racing through his body. McCoy sighs, still looking guilty as ever.
"Pavel," he says gently and Chekov fights a sob, "I may not be exactly clear on what happened last night. However, the things I do know, however, make me worried that you may be injured internally. Do you understand?"
"I don't vant ze crew to know," he whimpers, feeling like a child who wants nothing more then to curl up and go back to sleep.
"I can't promise you that they won't find out but there is no way I'll tell anyone," McCoy says, "The captain will of course be informed so he can give me appropriate punishment."
"Punishment," Chekov whispered, blackness growing at the edge of his vision, "Why would he do zat?"
"Dammit, man, because I – Chekov… Pavel? Are you okay?" McCoy's voice grew quieter and the lights slowly faded as Pavel fell, figuratively and literally into unconsciousness.
~*~*~
The voices above him shout orders to others grouped around him He hasn't opened his eyes, but even without his sight he can tell he is being rushed to the medical bay.
"Patient is Ensign Chekov, age seventeen, had received a concussion, two broken ribs, rectal tearing, and numerous other abrasions and lacerations most on his neck and hips," McCoy's voice is cold and Pavel can tell he's speaking in what Kirk calls his "doctor voice".
"Dammit!" another voice shouts, belonging to the person standing on his right. "What the hell happened?" Chekov recognized the voice as the captain himself and felt his heart sink. He didn't want anyone to know!
"Jim," he heard McCoy's voice, quieter and more emotional now, "Let me get him settled and I'll tell you… everything I know."
"Where did you find him?" another voice chimes in, one Pavel recognizes as Commander Spock. God, and now he's going to know too?
Pavel's eyes struggle open and all he can see is blinding lights.
"He's awake!" Kirk shouts and Pavel's breathing speeds up. God, if the captain knows then everyone knows. Everyone will know. They'll all know it was his fault.
"No!" he shouts, delirious and afraid, and they all look at him. Kirk looks worried, McCoy looks guilty, and Spock looks like … well, he looks like he always does. With maybe an extra wrinkle on his forehead.
"We need to sedate him," McCoy says without moving. Fear spiked in Chekov's stomach again. He shook his head widely.
"No!" he whimpered and the guilt on McCoy's face increased. Spock stepped forward, catching Chekov's wild eyes.
"Ensign Chekov, it would be much better for you if you allowed the doctor to perform his duties," Spock said and at this Pavel gave a hysterical snort.
"I don't vant him near me!" Chekov knew he shouldn't be afraid of McCoy. What happened was a result of dangerous amounts of Romulan ale and his own shortcomings. However, the thought of the doctor coming near him made his throat constrict with terror.
Minutes have gone by and the pain hasn't faded. Chekov has stopped screaming but McCoy's hand hasn't left his face, pressing down on his mouth making breathing even harder.
Above him the doctor is sweating and mumbling out slurred words and the name "Lisa" which Chekov recognizes as his ex – wife's name. His entire body is aching and all he wants is to fall asleep and never wake up.
Finally, McCoy finishes, making a half grunt, half moan as he shoots into Pavel's body and rolls off him, sweating.
"I love you Lisa," McCoy whispers and Chekov squeezes his eyes shut.
"Pavel," Spock's voice pulls him out of the memories and he can feel Spock's hand resting on his forehead. When their eyes meet Pavel just knows that Spock relived everything that had happened last night. It just shows how hysterical he must have been not to see Spock move or feel his touch.
A strange fury is lit in Spock's dark eyes and as Spock turns, mouth open in a snarl directed at McCoy, Chekov grabs his arm. Spock turns back to him, surprised.
"Don't. Please. Just… leave it alone," he says and closes his eyes once more as a nurse slides a needle gently into his neck.
~*~*~
This time when Chekov wakes up all he can hear is muffled yelling. The curtain around his bed has been closed by some caring nurse or maybe even McCoy himself.
"Dammit, man" the voice in the next bed area yells, Pavel recognizes it as McCoy, "I told you, I was drunk. It was a mistake."
"A rather large mistake," Spock hisses, sounding uncharacteristically angry. Chekov struggles to his feet, ignoring the dulled pain in his body.
"Don't you think I know that?" McCoy yells, "I was the one that had to fix him up."
Chekov pulled the curtain back and stepped through just as Spock opens his mouth to spit some thinly veiled insult at the other man. Both man catch sight of him and Chekov bits his lip and looks at his feet, uncomfortable under their scrutiny.
"Chekov," McCoy steps forward and Pavel shrinks back in spite of himself. McCoy looks almost hurt. Spock turns once again to glare at the doctor.
"Leave," Spock's voice has a hard edge of steel in it that neither man had heard before. McCoy, after a moments pause, surveys the way Spock has crouched in warning in front of the young Ensign.
"Fine," he says and nods at Chekov. Pavel nods back, wondering just how in the hell they're going to pull everything back together after this. How will anything ever be the same again? McCoy leaves and Spock turns to him, face blank once more.
"Vhy…?" Chekov trails off, unsure of what to say.
"Would you like me to leave also?" Spock asks; face still as infuriatingly blank as ever.
"No," Pavel says and he doesn't know why, "Please don't leave." Spock finally breaks his mask only to look confused.
"It would make more sense if I left," he said.
"I don't vant you to," Chekov shrugs and sure, it's illogical but he really wants Spock to stay with him.
"Alright," Spock says. And he stays.
