McCoy walked through the halls of the Enterprise, fully intent on getting to the Bridge before his stubborn Russian patient. He'd told Chekov to go back to his room, that he had the day off, and that he should use it to catch up on lost sleep. Of course the teen didn't, going in the exact opposite direction of the lift. McCoy wasn't sure if he was just going to a different lift to try and fool him, to his room like he's been told (unlikely at best), or to the botany lab. If the country doctor had to guess, the kid was on the Bridge right that moment, relieving whoever had taken his place and apologizing to Kirk for being so late. The kid was just that kind of nuts.
But when he arrives on the Bridge, fully ready to chew someone out, he mildly disappointed to see that Chekov isn't there. Which means he's back in his room with the hypo full of the good stuff (and he means the really good stuff. The stuff where you're so out so couldn't dream if you tried), off into sweet oblivion. Good boy. As long as the sedative does it's job correctly -because he wasn't suppose to be able to dream with that first one either, now that McCoy thinks about it- he'll be fine and well rested the next morning.
So he just walks on to the Bridge, and just sort of stands next to Kirk's chair. No one questions his presence; they know it's a slow day in sickbay and he comes there when he gets bored. The only one that even minutely reacts anymore is Jim, and he just stiffens and gets this sort of "Oh crap, please don't hypo me for your own amusement, Bonesy" look on his face, because they both know Bones would do that in a heartbeat whenever he gets to. But, unfortunately, he doesn't have any hypos on him, but reaches into a pocket and puts on a mildly sadistic grin just to freak out his captain a bit anyway. He damn well deserves it.
Finally, Jim relaxed, realizing his CMO had just pulled a very good bluff, and glares. McCoy stares innocently off at nothing. The Captain wouldn't be getting a word.
And then, something occurs to him. Chekov's nightmares happen often, and have been getting even more frequent because of some unknown reason. Maybe he should tell Sulu, just so the kid has someone to wake him up on bad nights. Yeah, that might be a good idea.
"Can I borrow your helmsmen for a minute?" Jim looked up, mildly surprised. Usually Bones would walk in, observe for maybe fifteen minutes, then go back to sickbay and finish up whatever paperwork he'd been putting off. Then again, he didn't usually walk in looking about ready to chew some unlucky patient (such as himself, or Scotty) a new one.
So Jim just shrugged. "Sure." McCoy nodded, walking over to the Asian man, grabbing him by the shoulder and practically dragging him to the lift, pressing the emergency button so they don't move anywhere.
No one even batted an eyelash.
"Why?" Was all Sulu said, just a little miffed at being taken from his post so suddenly.
"Can you do me a favor?" Sulu blinked. This was… un-McCoy like. And they weren't even on their way to sickbay yet, which, luckily, meant he wasn't in for it. Still, this was weird.
"Sure…?" Half "what the hell?" half "yeah, whatever you want". The perfect response.
Bones bit his tongue for a second, trying to find a way to word it without giving anything away. He was pretty sure Chekov wasn't about to tell his roommate jack shit until he was damn well ready. Hell, he probably wasn't even ready when he told McCoy. Yeah, nice bit of guilt to put on there.
"Keep an eye on him for me. If you even hear a sound that isn't normal for someone asleep, wake him up, okay?" At Sulu's puzzled look he offered nothing more than a simple "don't ask," with an implied "or I will kill you."
Sulu said nothing, though his lip twitched slightly. "Any suggestions?"
"Just… don't call him Pasha. I don't care if you can't think of any other way, don't even mutter it." McCoy involuntarily cringed, hand going just under his short ribs. That bruise would take a while to heal.
"Alright Doc." The helmsmen said, pressing the emergency button again so the lift started moving back to the Bridge.
That night, Sulu kept an ear out.
Not because he was worried -because Pavel would have told him if something was wrong-, but because he was curious why McCoy was. The man was naturally paranoid, just a bit, but more often than not he was right. It usually wasn't good when he was. Or at least it wasn't good for their Captain.
He didn't fall asleep, though he pretended to be, for Chekov's sake. The Russian didn't notice, which only made Sulu more curious. Chekov noticed everything, especially little things like irregular breathing, but he hadn't. Maybe McCoy had been right.
So he watched, silently, as his friend tossed and turned in bed, clearly awake. It was around two that Sulu got worried. Not only had Chekov not fallen asleep yet, he hadn't asked Sulu why he was still awake, which meant he didn't know that he was still awake. That wasn't Chekov.
By three he was finally asleep, curled up in the fetal position facing the wall, completely still. If Sulu hadn't seen a slight rise and fall in the sheets (the blanket had been kicked off a good half hour before) he would have thought the teenager was dead.
It was at four when it started.
Just a whimper at first, but louder than a red alert in the silence.
Sulu got up, slowly and silently, and walked over to Pavel's bed, kneeling down and gently touching the bronze haired teens shoulder. Chekov flinched violently, a strangled cry filling the air. Sulu recoiled sharply, sucking in a sharp breath. Okay, McCoy had had good reason to be worried. Very, very good reason. Had he already known? It would explain why he had asked in the first place.
He leaned over the bed again, careful no to touch anything. "Chekov? Pavel? Pavel, wake up. Come on buddy, McCoy'll have my ass if you get up," he pleaded gently.
A groan, and Chekov turned to face him, eyes flickered open. "Vhat, 'Karu?" He mumbled sleepily, apparently not knowing what had just happened. Either that, or he was playing innocent. No one could ever tell.
"'Karu. I like it." He paused, realizing he was getting off topic. "You were having a nightmare. What kind of roommate would I be if I didn't wake you up from your own personal Hell?" He smirked slightly, though tiredness shone in his eyes.
"Lights zirty percent." The light flickered on, just bright enough to be able to se. "How long have you been up?" Guilt flickered across the younger mans face, but Sulu would have none of it.
"I couldn't sleep. I was worried about you, you know. You've been lookin' just about ready to keel over these past few days." A shrug. "Don't worry about it. I do it because I care." Blue-green eyes blinked in confusion, as though unfamiliar with the words. Sulu felt his chest tighten at the though.
He sat on the bed, flinging one arm over his friends shoulder, pulling him in a bit closer. "Wanna talk about it? That always helps me." Chekov laughed; a short, slightly bitter sound that Sulu almost didn't believe came from the Russian.
"Vhy vould you need ze help?"
"Well, there was this one time, after the whole Narada thing. Did you know I have acrophobia? It's a fear of heights or falling." Chekov looked genuinely confused now, and just a bit shocked too. "It was nice to talk to an aviaphobe about it though. McCoy really does need to do something to help with that." And this time, they both laughed, and Chekov didn't ask why Sulu hadn't talked with him.
"Seriously though, if you need to get something off your chest, I'm always here for you. Always." Chekov looked down, embarrassed, and his shoulders hitched slightly.
"Zank you, 'Karu." And Sulu just pulled him in tighter. Whatever was going on in that big genius head, it couldn't be good (or "healthy", as a certain country doctor would point out), and Hikaru was determined to get to the bottom of this little mystery.
It didn't take long.
"Did I ever tell you about my father?" A simple, harmless question, but there was so much hidden behind the words.
"No. Your mom, and your baby brothers, but never your dad. Or the time you lived with him, now that I think about it." Of course Chekov had mentioned his parents divorce, and how he lived with his dad for eight years before he'd died. Car accident, he'd said. Drunk driver, he'd said. Only the drunk part was true.
"He… didn't take Mama's leaving too vell. He-he started drinking. Vhen I vas zhree, I zink." He paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath. 'Karu took the opportunity to bring him in closer. "He vas drunk a lot. Out of vork by zee time I vas four. My older seester made zee money, vorking after school." This was much more than he'd told McCoy. As close to the full thing as anyone would probably ever get, the only person knowing everything being his mama, of course.
"Anyvay, he vasin't in his right mind a lot. I never blamed him for vhat he did. Maybe I should have." Sulu listened carefully, patiently, giving small squeezes on the shoulder when his friend voice cracked even the slightest. He wondered how many times Chekov had told this story, and realized almost as quickly as the thought popped into his head it was near none. "My older seester died vhen I vas ten. School shooting. No vone ever thought she vas a deliberate target.
"She vas getting bullied. I knew, but I never said anyzing. I zink zats vhy he hit so hard zat time; vhy he actually broke some of zee bottles and used zose. I knew, but I never said anyzing. If I had, she vould probably be alive today. I don't zink I'll ever forget zat day. Zose scars never healed." He shivered, as though cold, and Sulu brought him in even closer to his chest, not at all caring about the wet spots spreading across his pajama top.
"He ended killing himself zee next year. Alcohol poisoning." A pause. "Does eet make me a horrible person if I didn't call an ambulence until I knew he vas dead?" They both froze, though Chekov still shuddered against the heat of the room.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Sulu spoke. "No. No, not at all, Pav. You were a kid. You were being abused. You didn't want that to continue, simple as that. You know what would have happened if you kept him alive? You'd still be in his custody. You might never have gone into Starfleet, and we would have never met. You might not even be alive today if he were. I might not even be alive if you hadn't done what you did. Hell, Earth might not even be here! You did the right thing." Pavel sobbed against his chest, clutching at his shirt like a drowning man would a life raft.
"Did I really? I may as vell have killed him! A vew times I had to go to zee hospital. A couple times I passed out. How does zat compare to two people dieing because of me?" He wrenched himself away, standing over the bed, breathing heavily.
And then he collapsed.
Onto his knees, head in hands. "Don't lie to me. Eet's my fault." Sulu flipped down, sitting down in front of the distraught seventeen year old. Facing old demons would probably be the single hardest thing he'd even have to do, and Sulu intended to help him through it.
"I'm not lying to you, Pav. It was never your fault. Those other people killed your sister not you. Your dad was the alcoholic that drank too much, not you. It's not your fault!" And all was silent again.
Pavel nodded, once. "Okay." He didn't believe the words, but it was a start.
"Want me to grab a sedative from sickbay for you? I can tell McCoy you need another day off too."
"Okay."
Sulu smiled, just a little. "You're gonna be okay. You know that, right? I'll make sure you are."
And Chekov smiled a little back. "Okay."