Sulu watched through the corner of his eye as Chekov turned over in his sleep. He turned his sights back on the ceiling before the younger of the two awoke and caught him looking. Sulu needed to keep up the appearance of ignoring Chekov. It had been three days since he had spoken with Jazep and Sulu had not said more than a few words to the Russian, fearing he would break down and tell him everything. Much to his dislike, Ko had overhead the exchange between Sulu and the guard and gave his two cents before Chekov had woken up. While he did not agree, he promised to remain silent on the matter.
It was becoming clear that Chekov was becoming more and more upset that Sulu refused to talk to him. His already wanning temper grew shorter and he was soon snapping at McCoy, Spock, and even Ko. Earlier that day, during the forty minute eating shift, Chekov had insulted a guard, earning himself a slap to the face. The guard had left, laughing deeply. Chekov had turned to Sulu to question him, but found he was already going towards their cell. There, the Russian had lost his temper, demanding to know what he had done wrong, why Sulu was angry with him, when would he be talked to again. The rant ended with Chekov falling onto his bed, tears streaming down his face, cursing Sulu in English and Russian. He fell asleep soon afterwards.
A deep sad chuckle floated from the cell next door and Sulu groaned, knowing what was to come.
"Do you really think that was wise" Ko asked.
"Yes. He needed to let off some steam." Sulu scowled, crawling to the end of his bed so he would not have to talk as loud to be heard over the rest of the inmates.
"You are not helping his emotional state, ya know that." Sulu wished he knew what Ko looked like so he could imaging himself punching him.
"He is a teenager, his emotional state is all over the place." Ko snorted.
"You aren't much older than him, are ya?" Sulu wrinkled his brow at the question.
"Four years older." Ko 'hurmed'. After a few minutes of silence, Sulu rolled his eyes.
"Why does it matter?"
"What gives ya the right to make decisions for him?" Ko responded seriously. Sulu's eyes widened slightly before narrowing.
"I'm his superior officer." Was the stern reply. Ko laughed.
"As if that matters here, son." Sulu bit his lip to keep from retorting and slid back in his bed, settling against his pillows, closing his eyes and attempting to block out what Ko had been trying to say.
--
He was awoken by a sharp jab to his rib cage. He had been having a pleasant dream; he was making love to someone. He couldn't remember who but when his eyes opened whatever erection he had had disappeared at the sight of Jazep leaning over him, prodding his chest with his claw.
"It's time." The guard croaked. As Sulu followed him from the cell, he glanced back at Chekov's sleeping form and realized what Ko had meant.
--
Chekov curled himself into a ball as he came into consciousness. If he didn't open his eyes, he could pretend that he was back on the Enterprise, waking up for his shift. He knew he couldn't stay in bed all day; even if there was no entertainment in the cell, he still had to do something. With a deep sigh, Chekov pushed himself up, stretching like a cat.
"Dobre-" Chekov stopped mid greeting as he turned to face Sulu, who was not there. Panic flashed through him. "Sulu? Sulu?! Hikaru, this is not amusing, where are you?!" Chekov rocketed off his cot, pushing over the other bed, as if Sulu was hiding under it. He stood in the middle of the cell, turning in a circle, eyes scanning every inch of the eight-by-twelve room. He was alone. He was alone and Sulu was gone. Anger replaced the panic and he rushed to the bars, grabbing a hold of them and shouting at the nearest guard.
"What did you do with Sulu?! Where have you taken Hikaru?!" He swore at them in every language he knew, but the guard ignored him. Defeated, Chekov righted Sulu's cot and wrapped himself in the pilot's blanket. Sulu was gone. How would he explain to the Captain that those monsters had taken the best pilot in Starfleet while he slept two feet away? How would he explain to Kirk that the last thing he had told his best friend was that he hated him? He could not explain it. He should be left in the prison as punishment while Spock and McCoy returned home.
Chekov pulled the blanket tighter around himself, suddenly cold. McCoy and Spock would hate him. They would not want to eat with him as they waited to be rescued. But what if Bozga was correct and the Enterprise never found them? Chekov would eat every meal for the rest of his life alone.
The smell of sweat, the soap that sat on the basin, and something that was distinctly Sulu drifted into his nose and he shoved the blanket in his face inhaling deeply. This was all he had left of the pilot.
Feeling more alone than he had his entire life, Pavel silently started crying.
--
McCoy plopped his try of gruel onto the table across from Chekov's. The young navigator kept his eyes trained on his food, pushing it around weakly with his spoon. Spock sat next to him and he could feel the Vulcan staring at him.
"Where is Sulu?" McCoy asked, shoveling the brown mess into his mouth. Chekov stiffened momentarily before answering in a weak voice.
"He is not here."
"What, he run off to join some other table?" The Doctor looked around, expecting to see a human in the surrounding aliens.
"Nyet..he is not here. They took him while I was sleeping. I will be understanding if you do not wish to eat with me anymore." He stood, about to pick up his tray when a large pale hand placed itself on his forearm.
"Pavel," Chekov's eyes flew to Spock's face. The Vulcan had never called him by his given name. "We want you to remain eating with us. Sit." He pressed down slightly and Chekov obediently sat. "Now tell us what happened." He removed his hand and turned slightly to look Chekov in the face. The Russian swallowed thickly and glanced at McCoy. The usually expressive doctor was staring at him without word, but wore a look of disbelief.
"I am not knowing what happened," His accent was becoming thicker with emotion and his grasp of the English language was slipping. "I was asleep. I woke and he was not there. Guards would not tell me where they took Hikaru or why."
"What the fuck would they want with Sulu? He hasn't caused any trouble, has he?" Chekov shook his head. "And it's not like these bumblin' lizards want the secrets to space travel; they're happy on this pathetic excuse of a planet!" Mak'kai was actually a planet similar to Earth, but the group, including Spock, harbored a deep dislike of it, for obvious reasons.
"Perhaps there is no reason for the Craws' actions. They do not appear to be the most logical of beings." McCoy glared at Spock.
"You telling me they killed him because they could?"
"They do seem to have violent tendencies."
"But why Hikaru?" Chekov muttered to no one. McCoy ran one hand over his face, breathing deeply through his nose. He rubbed his neck before picking up his tray and pushing half of the portion of food onto Chekov's plate.
"You need to eat more, you're getting too thin. I've never seen anyone lose weight like you do." Spock added part of his meal to the Ensign's and the remainder of the eating shift was spent making sure Chekov ate it all.
--
As he walked back to his cell, Chekov spotted Jazep. With a strangled cry, he ran at the guard. He slammed into him and began hitting every body part he could find, screaming at the creature. Jazep almost seemed to expect the attack and roughly shoved Chekov away, striking him across the face as well.
"What is this meaning of this?" The Craw growled, straightening his jumpsuit.
"What did you do with Hikaru!?" Chekov demanded. The guard blinked in confusion and anger surged through Chekov. "Hikaru! Hikaru Sulu! My cell mate!" At that he seemed to understand and chuckled. Chekov clenched his fist and was sure if he bothered to look at them, they would be white with strain.
"He is in his cell." Jazep walked away, talking to himself in his native tongue. If Chekov had learned one thing about his captors, they did not lie. He took off at a pace that would have shamed the fastest of sprinters.
He could feel his heart in his throat at he rushed into the small room, ignoring the deafening slam of the bars behind him. Sulu was laying on his cot, blanket haphazardly thrown over him, asleep. Overwhelmed with joy at Sulu not being dead, Chekov let out a cry of delight and pounced on the bed, one arm wrapping around the pilot's chest andthe other supportting his landing. His arm gave, and he collapsed on Sulu laughing. The movement brought Sulu out of his slumber.
"Chekov..why are you on me?" Chekov gave another delighted cry and pressed his face to the blanket covering Sulu's chest.
"Hikasha! Oh, Hikaru, you are alive!"
"I won't be much longer if you keep trying to smother me." Sulu groaned. Chekov scrambled up, leaning back onto his heels. The pilot pushed himself into a sitting position and the blanket slid down. Chekov's grey eyes went wide as he took in the sight.
Sulu's toned bronze chest was littered with already purpling bruises. Across his shoulders were angry welts and his wrists were scratched and bloody where they were not bruised. Chekov whimpered softly when Sulu attempted to cover himself with the blanket again.
"What happened, Hikasha?" He whispered, leaning forward and lightly touching a particularly ugly looking discoloration. Sulu winced, but did not pull away.
"Someone got pissed off." Was the cryptic reply. Chekov tried to glare at his friend, but found he couldn't. He was too happy Sulu was alive; so he went for the guilt trip.
"I thought you were dead. I woke up and you were gone." Sulu closed his eyes in pain, as if he had not realized his disappearance would cause that train of thought.
"No, I'm not dead. I'm sorry I scared you." Before he had finished, Sulu had a lap full of Russian hugging him. He tried not to wince as he returned the embrace.
"It is I who should be apologizing." Chekov muttered, pressing his nose into Sulu's neck. "I am sorry that I upset you and I am sorry I was angry with you and called you mean things."
"You called me mean things?"
"Da. Very mean things. I am sorry, I did not mean any of it. I was frustrated that you would not speak to me. Are you still angry with me?" Sulu pulled him closer, ignoring the pain it brought.
"No. I'm not angry with you anymore. Just try to control your temper more, okay?"
"Okay."
--
Try as he might, Chekov's temper still got the best of him. It took more to get a response, but the guards would keep at until he would snap and either attack or give into the bait and insult them back. The punishment, however, was vastly different than it had been the first few days. Instead of receiving a black eye or broken nose, he would merely be slapped, some times kicked in the shin, but never something that would leave an actual mark or hurt for longer then ten minutes. McCoy had informed the group four days after Sulu's 'return from the dead' that he had been getting similar results. Spock had wisely said that maybe they should ignore the Craw completely and Sulu agreed.
The next day, Chekov awoke to find he was alone again. He did not react the way he had before, but worried quietly, filling the time with scratching equations into the wall with a rock. They did not talk about Sulu during the eating shift, only discussing the latest gossip that was making its way around the prison. No one mentioned Kirk.
The Russian had ran back to his cell, relieved to see Sulu curled into his cot asleep. Chekov did not wake him, instead going back to his equations.
And that is how it went for the next thirty-seven days.
Their days were filled with random chatter with inputs from Ko, eating with McCoy and Spock while the three older crew members gave Chekov part of their food trying to keep him from looking unhealthy, taunts and weak abuse to and from their cells, and sleeping. Every few days Chekov would arouse from his sleep to being alone but by the time he came back from the meal, Sulu would be there, asleep. Always asleep.
Though Pavel was sure Sulu did not want him to know, the pilot's chest had basically turned into one giant bruise with cuts and open wounds sprinkling it. Sulu's left bicep now sported a shiny scar that Chekov was positive was the result of a burn. Every time he asked what had happened, Sulu would shrug, give a cryptic reply about getting into an argument with a guard. Chekov was worried, but tried not to dwell on it, because he knew there was nothing he could do besides help clean the injuries while Sulu slept.
On the fiftieth day of their imprisonment, everything changed.
--
Chekov's eyes fluttered open and he knew that Sulu had been taken again. The older man always got up earlier than Chekov and would strike up a conversation with Ko.
He stumbled from the cot and over to the basin, running his hand over his face. After ten days, Sulu had managed to build a razor from filing a spring from his cot down with the same rock Chekov used to write meaningless equations. They had passed the information along to their friends and McCoy had been grateful, stating he hated having a beard.
Chekov splashed water on his face, scrubbing at it with his hands.
"You finally awake over there, kimvah?" Ko's voice called out. Chekov was quickly able to tune out the other voices that surrounded him by the second week and could easily pick up on his neighbor's.
"Are you ever going to tell me what 'kimvah' means?" Was Chekov's reply. He pulled on his still damp Starfleet shirt. Even if they were prisoners, they refused to smell.
"Nope. Didja ever figure out the missing bit to your gravity problem?"
Chekov had taken up, as a way to pass the mornings that Sulu was absent, trying to solve the mystery of quantum gravity. Ko, who claimed to be interested in physics himself, was willing to hash things out with Chekov.
By the time the guard opened Chekov's cell for his meal, the Russian genius had developed two new theories.
Spock was interested in Chekov's new ideas and they discussed them until McCoy told them to shut up, waving his spoon threateningly.
"I've got something to tell you. I think these guards are losing their touch." McCoy said as Chekov sipped at his water. "I got into a fight with one about the treatment of K'ma." K'ma was McCoy and Spock's neighbor's newly born daughter. "She needs proper food if she is going to survive, speaking of which, you'd better finish all that, I can see your ribs through your uniform. All this monster did was push me away. I've seen men around here with black and blue bruises, yet not one of us gets one." Chekov faithfully remained silent. Sulu had not mentioned the treatment he received and neither did Chekov. To explain away Sulu's absences, he simply stated the pilot was asleep, having stayed up half the night talking to Ko and Sulu played along.
"They probably do not want to lose their oddest looking prisoners." McCoy and Chekov laughed while Spock raised an eyebrow.
Chekov did not run back to the cell anymore. He enjoyed the stroll, looking over the different aliens. It was amazing to him, there was hardly ever a fight between the inmates, in fact many would exchange greetings while passing by. When he entered the cell though, he wished he had ran.
Sulu lay on his cot, eyes closed tightly in pain, three slashes across his stomach that were bleeding freely. A small pool had formed on the bed, staining the comforter. Chekov let out a strangled cry and rushed to the basin, grabbing the pillowcase that they used to wash themselves and dunking it in the water before going back to Sulu and trying to wipe away the blood to see the wounds better. Sulu released his own cry, trying to move away from the pressure.
"Hikaru, no, do not move!" He soaked up blood until the case was red before throwing it aside and grabbing his pillow. He pressed it to Sulu's stomach, pushing down, trying to stop the bleeding like he learned at Starfleet Academy a million years ago.
"Doctor. We need a doctor!" Chekov yelled at the guard posted outside. The Craw blinked stupidly at him.
"There are no doctors here." Bile rose to the back of Chekov's throat and he forced it back down. Why didn't they have doctors? Because they were a stupid race. He needed a Doctor or Sulu would die. Sulu couldn't die.
"McCoy! Go get McCoy!" He shouted. The Craw titled it's massive head, reminding Chekov that they really did look like lizards. "Cell Theta-Romeo-Seven!" It understood that and waddled off, clicking its teeth together. It returned with McCoy and Spock in tow less than a minute later. The doctor took one look and swore. The guard opened the bars and Chekov pulled off the pillow, showing the cuts.
"I need my supplies." McCoy barked at the guard. "I had medical supplies when you brought us here, go get them!" The guard said something to the guard that was stationed outside of Ko's cell and that creature took off running.
McCoy turned his sights on Chekov, glaring. "How the hell did this happen! You said he was asleep!" Chekov gulped and scrambled to the other side of the bed, grabbing Sulu's clammy hand.
"He..I.."
"It was part of his punishment." Ko's calm voice helpfully put in. Chekov's head snapped up and he stared at the wall separating the two cells.
"Ko?" McCoy and Spock exchanged a look.
"His punishment, kimvah." Spock raised one eyebrow.
"Kimvah? You address Chekov as this?" Ko laughed richly.
"I take it you speak my tongue, then?"
"I don't give a flying fish's ass what you call Chekov, what the hell do you mean punishment?" McCoy spat out.
"Why do you think the guards have not been harming any of you? Sulu struck up a deal that they not hurt you and instead take it out on him. I told him it wasn't the brightest of ideas, but he stuck to it Didn't want any of you hurt."
The guard returned with McCoy's things and the doctor palmed the dermal regenerator. It had been modified long ago to heal more than simple cuts.
"The guards still harm Mister Chekov and the Doctor." Spock said, watching as the first wound closed and faded away.
"Ah. Well, can't show favoritism. Part of the deal was they could smack you if it wouldn't hurt later."
Chekov frowned and squeezed Sulu's hand. He had done this so Chekov wouldn't be harmed. The guilt was overwhelming; he had caused the bruises that marred Sulu's tan skin.
Five minutes later, it appeared as if the slashes had never been there and McCoy got rid of the burn mark. After checking him over with the medical scanner, and finding some cracked ribs, the guards repossessed the equipment. Before his shipmates were sent away, Chekov questioned Spock.
"Spock, what is the English translation of 'kimvah'?" He heard Ko chuckle.
"Protected angel."
