It had been two hours, and the only word they'd gotten was that it was taking longer than expected. Jim was not proud of the way he'd spoken to the nurse who gave them that piece of news. What was that supposed to mean? It was taking longer than expected to save him, or he was taking longer than expected to...?

Jim didn't even let himself contemplate that outcome. Chekov wasn't going to die. He had to pull through. He had to.

Finally, as two hours slipped slowly toward three, Bones came out of Med Bay into the waiting room. After Jim had calmed down, they finally let the senior crew in to wait, away from the prying eyes of the crew. Jim was grateful for that. If he'd been uncomfortable with his closest friends seeing him cry, it was nothing compared to if the rest of the crew did.

Bones looked grim. Jim fought down another rising tide of hysteria as he looked up into his CMO and best friend's eyes. Uhura, seated on one side of him, gripped his arm, and even Spock, on his other side, tensed up just slightly. Jim didn't see how Scotty and Sulu were doing. He didn't take his eyes off of Bones.

Bones ran a hand over his face and sighed, as though he wasn't quite sure how to put this.

"Just tell us, Bones," Jim choked out. "Whatever you've got to say, it's not going to be any easier if it's dragged out."

Bones nodded. "Honestly? I don't know, Jim. I've done all I can do. He held on okay through the surgery, but from here on out, it's up to Chekov whether he lives or – "

Bones' voice broke off, and his mouth snapped shut. Jim had only seen him this way once before, when he'd thought his visitation rights to his daughter might get taken away. He'd broken down then, and Jim knew he was fighting hard not to do the same now.

Much as she'd done with Jim, Uhura rose and embraced Bones. If possible, he took even longer to respond than Jim did. But when he did, rather than take it as further license to break down, Bones seemed to draw strength from it. As though sensing he was doing okay again, Uhura released him, and he straightened out, clearing his throat.

"I'd better get back in there," he said. "Keep an eye on him. I want to be there if – if anything happens." He turned to Sulu. "You're his closest friend. Would you want to come in and sit with him for a bit? If Jim doesn't need you on the bridge, anyway."

Jim shook his head. "At this rate, none of us would be of any use on the bridge. The only way to keep this ship running is if we aren't part of it for the time being."

Bones nodded, turning back to Sulu. Sulu was surprisingly calm. The man had hardly batted an eye, just taking in the report they'd been given.

"In that case, I'd like that," was all he said. Jim wondered if he didn't trust himself to say much more. The way he hurried off toward Med Bay practically confirmed it.

Bones gripped Jim's arm before he hurried off after Sulu. He opened his mouth, as though he were about to assure Jim it would be okay, but appeared to think better of it. Shaking his head, he let go, but Jim grabbed him before he could.

"Don't push yourself too hard, Bones," he said. "You're hurt too, you know."

Bones brushed it off. "A phaser blast is a damn sight better than a knife wound, Jim."

"I mean it, Bones," Jim said. "I know I never listen to you, but can you listen to me just this once?"

Bones sighed and nodded. "Fine, but I'm not leaving Chekov. Not until there's some development in his condition."

Jim watched him leave, then steeled himself and turned back to Spock, Uhura, and Scotty. Uhura had a hand over her mouth, clearly trying to hold it together, but the tears that slipped out of her eyes betrayed her. Spock's eyes were trained on her. Jim knew that Vulcans preferred not to physically touch anyone, even their mates, in public. If Jim had anything to say about it though, they'd be able to comfort each other soon enough.

"You two," he said. "I want you both in one or the other of your quarters. You'll be off-duty for at least a day. With all that you've done today, you've earned it. And like I told Bones...I don't think any of us will do much good on the bridge."

Spock nodded and surprised Jim by putting a hand on Uhura's back, leading her out of Med Bay. Jim then turned to Scotty, who was barely more successful than Uhura at keeping his tears in.

"You, too, Scotty," Jim said. "You can stay in your quarters, or, if Bones allows it, go in there. You might do Chekov some good, too."

Scotty nodded. "What – what about you, sir?"

Jim sighed. "I don't think I'll be much good either on the bridge, or here."

Scotty eyed him. "He considers you a close friend, too, you know."

Looking away, Jim fought back the rising catch in his chest. "I know," he said. "And he's one of mine, too. But I just...don't think we should overcrowd him, you know? Give him some room to breathe."

Please keep breathing.

Scotty nodded. Jim grabbed his shoulder, opening his mouth to say something more, but it suddenly flew from his mind. He made for the door, leaving Scotty standing there. Whether he would choose to go in or follow after him, Jim had no idea.

All he could think about was getting to his communicator. He had a call to make.

The person on the bed certainly looked like Chekov, but Sulu had a hard time believing this was his friend. Chekov wasn't exactly a tan guy to begin with, but he was more deathly pale than Sulu had ever seen him. Sulu had had the horrible idea to pull the sheet down to see what Chekov's torso looked like and immediately wished he hadn't. He'd seen Chekov after a few – less-than-advisable – bar fights, but things had never been this bad. Probably because he'd had someone around to back him up in those situations, Scotty or Kirk, or Sulu himself.

Sulu thought of what his friend had likely been through the past few days and felt sick to his stomach.

His eyes tracked down to where McCoy had bandaged the wound and winced. He didn't need to see that much. The door slid open, revealing Scotty, who slowly trudged up to the bedside. Sulu quickly covered Chekov's torso up. Scotty didn't need to see it, either.

Scotty pulled up a pair of chairs for both himself and Sulu, and the pair of them sat down while McCoy came up, a hypospray in hand.

"What's that for?" Scotty asked as McCoy jabbed it into Chekov's neck.

"Reduces risk of infection," McCoy muttered, setting the hypospray aside and adjusting the sheets just slightly. Apparently, Sulu hadn't put them back properly. He rolled his eyes. Once the mom friend...

"Is that still a possibility?" Sulu asked.

McCoy shrugged. "Like I said, his overall condition is a bit up in the air at this point." He pulled up a chair for himself and sat down on the other side of Chekov's biobed. The three men were silent for a moment.

"Can he hear us?" Sulu asked, looking up at McCoy.

McCoy frowned. "I've heard it's possible. Can't say I've seen it work personally, but, we could try, you know."

Sulu nodded and cleared his throat. "Worth a try, I think." He sat back, realizing suddenly that now that he'd suggested the thing, he had absolutely no idea what to say to someone in a practical coma.

Sighing, he figured that he might as well just say the first thing that came to his mind and get it over with. If he sounded like a fool, that was okay. He doubted McCoy or Scotty would do any better when their turns came.

"You know, I'm pretty sure you're the only person who could manage to get this many of us into Med Bay at once, Chekov," he tried, laughing weakly. McCoy snorted across the bed and muttered something about that not being far from the truth. Sulu allowed the bit of humor to pass, but grew serious quickly.

"Look, Chekov," he said. "We need you to pull through this, okay? I'm pretty sure that if you don't make it, we'll all be following fairly soon after. Because we'd all kill each other without you around. You're our equilibrium. It just...won't be the same without you. We won't ever be whole again."

"Not to mention that you owe it to yourself to make it and live a freakishly long life," McCoy growled. "You've got way too much ahead of you to quit on us now, kid."

Scotty cleared his throat, nodding. "We need you to pull through. And you need you to pull through, laddie. So, don't give up yet, laddie. Please."

They fell silent once more, but there was no result. Chekov lay just as still as ever. McCoy frowned at the sweat beading on his forehead.

"Is he feverish?" he mused, pressing the back of his hand against Chekov's brow. "He doesn't feel like it... He feels cold."

Sulu rested his head in his hands, wishing there was some solution to this, something he could do to make sure his friend pulled through.

Then an idea entered Sulu's head, and it was crazy, but it might actually work...

Standing up and walking over to the computer, he said, "Computer, locate the passengers picked up on Geshaash."

They were all clustered together in a set of guest quarters. He searched through the names and found Lauren, the girl who had been held captive with Chekov on Moloz's ship.

Pressing the comm button, he said, "Med Bay to Lauren."

A moment of silence. "Ummm...I'm not really sure how this works."

Sulu couldn't help laughing, and Scotty and McCoy joined in. "Just keep talking like you're doing. It'll work. Look, um...could you come down to Med Bay?"

There was another long pause, and she sounded unsure. "Sure...why?"

It occurred to Sulu that no one had probably updated her on Chekov's situation. He sighed. "You'll see when you get down here."

"I don't think so," she growled. "I'm not leaving this room until you tell me why you want me there."

The defensiveness in her tone threw Sulu off just slightly, but he then remembered that she'd been a victim of sex slavery. No wonder she was suspicious, especially of him, a male. What he wouldn't give to have Uhura here now. Lauren had gravitated to her during the rescue, seeming to trust her innately, while automatically distrusting him.

"Look, Lauren," he began, hoping he sounded gentle, not condescending. "Chekov's in bad shape. I think he might pull through if you gave him some encouragement."

She waited another painfully long moment before responding. Sulu glanced back at Chekov, whom Bones was still hovering over. Looking back to the computer, Sulu grit his teeth.

"What makes you think he'll do it for me if he hasn't done it for you?" she finally said.

Sulu reminded himself that regardless of cause, murder was still illegal on most planets. Throttling this girl would not help matters any.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But if this is going to work, you're our last hope."

Jim had held it together successfully all the way from Med Bay. He made it to his quarters without breaking down. He'd commed the lieutenant currently holding the bridge, telling them to warp away from the planet as fast as possible and resume command for the time being without batting an eye. He'd even entered the coordinates for the message he intended to send, and no tears came.

But when it didn't go to video message, and Carol showed up in the view screen, he knew it was only a matter of time. Her eyes lit up, as did her smile, and she cried, "Jim!"

He dissolved.

Jim didn't look up to see her face before he was through, but when he did, she looked half concerned, half stricken. Once his sobs faded into deep, shuddering breaths, she said, "Jim...what's wrong?"

He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak just yet.

"Is it...is it the baby? Jim, I thought you'd be happy about him!" Carol looked as though she didn't know whether to cry along with him or come through the screen and smack him a good one across the face.

Jim cleared his throat. "No!" he exclaimed, wondering how she could even doubt it. "Carol, we're having a baby! I am the happiest damn man alive right now!" His voice trailed off into more sobs. She raised an eyebrow.

"Forgive me if I find that hard to believe, James," she said, not unkindly.

He took in another gulp of air. "It's not the baby," he managed to choke out.

Carol almost looked relieved, but what he'd left unsaid manifested itself in her eyes. They were wide with fear.

"Who is it, Jim?" she asked, already having guessed the worst.

He shook his head, struggling to say it, even to Carol.

"It's Chekov," he finally said, the words coming out in a deep, anguished moan.

Carol's hands flew up to her mouth, and Jim could see her beginning to break down just as he had two minutes ago.

"He's alive," he reassured her. "For now. But we – we don't know how long – "

The silence pervaded between them again. Carol, tears still in her eyes but more composed than before, nodded at him.

"What happened, Jim?"

He told her everything, starting with the away mission gone wrong and ending with Bones' verdict. Through the whole thing, she sat silently, listening, her eyes intent on him in spite of the fact that he couldn't look into hers. Because after all that had happened, he still couldn't deny that his mind hadn't been where it should have been.

"I'm so sorry, Carol," he whispered. "I'm sorry our son almost didn't get to have a father."

"Don't be sorry, you dolt!" she exclaimed, sounding scandalized. Jim knew that he would have received at least a smack to the arm if she'd been there in person. "You saved Chekov from an awful fate! I swear, if I could get my hands on this Moloz – "

"There probably wouldn't be much more to do with him," Jim muttered. "Spock says he didn't move after I left. I think I might have killed him."

Carol looked as though she wanted to say Moloz had deserved it, but she didn't. She knew that wouldn't have helped him, wouldn't have assuaged his guilt at all. Because in spite of all that Moloz had put Chekov through, Jim still regretted taking his life. It was a sensation he'd never get used to.

Sighing, Carol said, "Don't be sorry, Jim. I understand why you did it. And I'm sure our son will, too."

The words "our son" dragged Jim out of his stupor and reminded him, if only for a brief moment, that he was going to be a father. He inched closer to the screen, wishing he could be there with her now. "How far along are you?"

Carol raised an eyebrow. "I left the Enterprise four months ago, Jim. I think you can figure this one out."

"What?" he asked, feigning offense. "It could have been any of the times we... I mean, it didn't have to be the last time!"

She smiled contentedly, laying a hand over her stomach. "Well, judging by the due date, it was."

"Tell me about him," Jim said, then winced. He remembered his mother saying that his father had once asked the same thing. The only difference was Jim wasn't the one about to die in this situation, and neither was Carol or their baby. They would keep on living. His son, however, would never know one of his many surrogate uncles.

I swear if he makes it out, I won't complain when he teaches my son Russian profanity, Jim promised, to whom, he didn't know.

"Well, I hardly know anything about him yet," Carol said. "Just that he makes me vomit on a regular basis and is still a tiny little thing. Am I showing yet?" She turned to the side, showing off her stomach as though she were the poster girl for pregnancy.

Jim chuckled. "Not even a little."

Carol laughed back drily. "You flatter me, Jim." She eyed him. "I've been thinking about names..."

"Already?" he asked. "Carol, you're only four months along!"

"Yes, but I've known for a while," she said. "Also, I've had a lot more time to contemplate the matter. I haven't been crashing on an unknown planet, saving a Starbase, or infiltrating an Orion slaving colony in the past month or so. Anyway, I was thinking...would you like to name him after your father?"

Jim thought on the matter. He'd been named after both of his grandfathers. Maybe it could become a family tradition, if his son had kids. That was an awkward thought. The idea of being a grandfather scared him even more than being a father did. George... Though he missed the father he'd never known more than he'd thought possible as he was sitting here, about to become a father himself, he thought about calling his son George and...it just didn't sit right with him. His son would be a walking reminder of the parent he'd lost, and he didn't want that for him. He wanted him to be his own person. Still, he didn't mind the idea of giving his son a family name.

Well, he couldn't very well do what his parents had done and just pick the maternal grandfather. Little Alexander would be named after a mass murderer. That was a patently awful idea.

"My dad's middle name was David," he said. "What about that?"

Carol nodded. "David," she tested it out. "I like it."

Jim longed to lean his head up against the screen, if only to feel closer to her, but he knew all that would do would be to enlarge his face. It couldn't close the distance between them, between him and their son. He still had two years left of this five-year-mission. The likelihood was that he wouldn't be there for Carol's pregnancy. What if he couldn't be there for the birth?

"Let's talk at least once a week," Carol said, as though reading his thoughts. "If not more. I don't know if I can do another few months again, Jim."

He nodded. "I will pull every string in the book to be able to get there when he's born," he told her.

"I know you will," she said, smiling at him.

Jim sighed. "I have to go debrief the slaves we rescued from Moloz's ship," he said. They had twenty prisoners that hadn't been taken to the market along with Chekov, not to mention the fifteen Orions running the ship that needed to be transported to Yorktown for imprisonment.

"Are you sure you'll be able to focus?" she asked, eyeing him. "Your mind may have been on our baby and I just now, but I know Chekov's slowly slipping back in. He's doing that with me, too."

Jim leaned back and sighed. "I don't know," he said. "But I have to try. If they have families to get back to, we need to inform them that they've been rescued. Maybe some people will get a happy ending out of this."

"We may yet, too, Jim," she said softly. "Don't give up hope yet. Chekov's stronger than any of us know."

He nodded. And in that instant, he knew there was nothing more to say. Well, save for one thing.

"I love you, Carol."

That smile was back, and it brought a thrill to his heart to see it. "I love you, too, Jim. I would ask you to give Chekov a kiss for me, but something tells me you wouldn't follow through on that one."

Jim considered. "You're probably right. Though if he pulls through...who knows what I'll do?"

She laughed. "I'll talk to you soon. Let me know as soon as... As soon as anything happens."

He nodded soberly. "Will do."

Sulu certainly wasn't expecting any warm feelings coming off of Lauren, but he also didn't expect her to completely brush by him and Scotty. In fact, the vibe she gave was so cold, Scotty scooted his chair away from her just slightly. The only ones she seemed to feel vaguely comfortable around were the doctor and the half-dead man. Sulu had to wonder if it wasn't because they were the ones least likely to harm her.

Lauren took the spot where Sulu had been not five minutes before and looked up at McCoy. "So, what am I doing here again?"

Sulu bit back his irritation. He'd explained that to her. Probably twice.

McCoy, however, was the patient one for once. "Talk to him."

"What do I say? I barely know him," she said, and Sulu realized there was the barest hint of uncertainty in her voice. Maybe this was a lot of pressure for her. After all, she'd just come out of a traumatic situation, and now they were asking her to try to all but resurrect someone.

"Whatever you need to," McCoy said. "We'll stand back if you want. Just... try for us, will you?"

She stared down at Chekov as McCoy and Scotty went to stand by Sulu at the door. Leaning back in the chair and sighing, she began.

"Um, hi. It's me, Lauren. We were in a cell together that one time. So, listen...I guess you're not doing so well. They tell me they don't know whether you're going to pull out of it or not, and they want me to tell you to try. Well, I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

Scotty opened his mouth to interject, but Sulu, as much as it pained him to do so, cut him off.

"See what she has to say," he muttered.

"I can't do that because if I did, I'd be the biggest hypocrite in the universe," she said.

Scotty's eyes widened. "That... was nae what I expected," he whispered to Sulu.

"Told you to let her talk."

"All those times I was...with...Moloz, he'd taunt me afterward. He'd say that my family didn't care enough about me to come after me, that my father never even sent any distress call out that I'd been captured. I don't know if that's true or not, Pavel, but... after a while, I started to believe him. I still believe him. And I wanted to die. I still do, sometimes, too.

"But whatever's true of my family...that's not true of yours. Obviously, they care about you, a lot. And you're not even their own blood. I mean, look at you all. I was bored, so I looked up the senior crew in the ship's computer. You're all different. Different ages, different races, as far as that goes, different species, for goodness' sake. And yet you're a family, and they went through hell to get you back.

"You've got a really good thing going on here, Pavel. That alone is worth living for. So maybe I can tell you that you have to try to pull through, because you have people to live for, and you can know it. I don't, and probably won't, because I don't know if I could face my family right now.

"With that being said...you're practically the only person I trust on this ship right now, Pavel. And I have no idea where to go after this. Something tells me you'd have a few ideas up your sleeve. You gave me hope of escape when I had none. Granted, that hope came crashing down about five minutes after it was sprung, but...if your friends didn't love you as much as they did, I would still be on that ship.

"I owe you a lot. I owe everyone here a lot. So don't you dare die, because I'm not letting you before I get a chance to repay that debt!"

In the first show of vulnerability Sulu had seen from her, she buried her head in her hands and was silent. He couldn't tell if she was crying or not, and didn't care to. Averting his eyes, Sulu struggled to hold his emotions in. He'd been doing so well this entire time, and now this girl was breaking him.

A small thrill of hope raced through him, however, when Scotty nudged his shoulder. Sulu looked up at Chekov and saw that the corners of his friend's mouth were tipped up. Glancing over at Scotty, he saw an earsplitting grin on the other man's face and found his own echoing it.

"Thank God," McCoy muttered, his shoulders sagging in relief.

Lauren still hadn't noticed anything. Chekov was grinning by now.

"Have you considered applying for Starfleet Academy?" he asked, his voice creaky, like an old house back on Earth. Lauren's head shot up and she stared at him, openmouthed. Chekov's eyes opened, bloodshot, and he turned to her, not losing that mischievous look. "From vat I saw, you vould be vonderful in Communications."

Lauren looked as though she wanted to smack him. "How long have you been awake?" she demanded.

He shrugged, then winced. "Long enough," he said. He looked over at McCoy, Scotty, and Sulu, and weakly raised a hand in greeting. "Hello."

Scotty was indignant. "Hello?" he demanded. "Hello? That's all ye have tae say, laddie? Ye get yerself kidnapped by the bloody Orion Syndicate, sold as a slave, all while making us chase ye hither, thither and yon, and then, tae top it all off, go and get yerself stabbed and worry us all to death for nearly four hours. And all ye have tae say is 'hello'?"

Chekov looked a bit too happy to see them all to take offense. He just continued grinning.

Scotty looked back to Sulu and McCoy. "Hello, he says. Hello."

Bones gave him a knowing gaze. "Go ahead. Just don't hurt him."

And in an instant, Scotty was over at the bedside, hugging Chekov as hard as he could without rupturing anything. Sulu sat down next to him, waiting his turn, while McCoy stood off to the side, hand on Lauren's shoulder. Shockingly, she didn't seem to mind. Upon closer inspection, Sulu saw that Chekov was hugging Scotty back so hard his knuckles were white.

"Dinnae ever do that to me again, wee man!" Scotty scolded. "We thought we lost ye there for a while."

Chekov looked up at Sulu over Scotty's shoulder. While Sulu was overjoyed to have his friend back, he saw something in Chekov's eyes that he never had before. Or perhaps it was that something had gone out of them. Either way, he could see Chekov wasn't so sure they hadn't.

McCoy motioned for Lauren to get up. "Well, I think that's enough excitement for one day. We should probably limit it to one visitor at a time, so we don't overwork him."

The look Chekov shot his way signaled that he was nothing short of a traitor. "I can handle – "

"Oh, no, you don't!" McCoy said. "I swear, kid, you're just as bad as Jim! Lauren, you've said your peace. Scotty, he'll be around when the others have had done with him. Sulu...you can stick around for a while. Just as soon as Jim gets here, you're done, too. I swear, Chekov, between you, Jim, and Spock, you'll all be the death of me one day!"

He turned to go, but then went back and squeezed Chekov's shoulder. "It's really good to see you back safe, kid. We were worried."

Chekov eyed him. "You vere vorried? I vouldn't have guessed."

McCoy's glare returned and he walked away, muttering under his breath. Chekov turned to Lauren, who hadn't quite made up her mind to leave yet.

"Seriously," Chekov said. "Talk to me about ze Academy when you come back in. I mean, you are going to come back and wisit me before you go, right?"

Lauren nodded. "Sure. I'll be back." She hesitated. "I'm – I'm glad you're okay, too. It didn't seem fair to me if I made it and you didn't. It just didn't seem fair."

And with that she fled the room. Scotty looked from Sulu to Chekov.

"I'll go check on her," he said. "I figure I'll give you two some time."

They were silent for a few moments as he left, then Chekov went in to embrace Sulu, who clung to his friend as though he were a lifeline.

"They aren't wrong, you know," Sulu said. "You did have us all worried. Especially just now."

"It's not like I planned on getting captured by ze Orions," Chekov muttered. "Of all ze things I intended to do before I died, zat vas not on ze list."

Sulu let the moment sit in silence for a few minutes, still not letting go. "Just remember one thing, Pavel." He pulled back and looked Chekov in the eyes. "No matter what happened to you down there, no matter what you went through, no matter what they did, that doesn't change who you are. You're a little less..."okay," than you once were, I guess, but don't think for an instant that it changes who you are, or how we see you."

Chekov nodded. For the first time in this entire ordeal, he was close to tears. He opened his mouth, as though he were going to respond, but for now, it appeared nodding was all he could do.

Sulu gripped his shoulder and stood. "Something tells me McCoy's off contacting the captain. And then you know he'll probably be bawling out of relief in his office afterward. I get the feeling he does that more often than we know. I'll see you soon, though."

Sulu turned around, heading for the door. He didn't want Chekov to know he'd be doing the exact same thing once he got back to his own quarters.

Chekov didn't know how long it had taken McCoy to contact Kirk. All he knew was that within five minutes of Sulu leaving the room, Kirk was in the doorway, once again, looking like he'd just run a few miles.

Kirk stood there for a few minutes, looking like he wanted to speak but didn't quite know what to say. Finally, he managed to get out, "Welcome back."

Chekov gave him a look. "Zat's how you greet me after I all but vake up from a coma?" He'd intended it to be a touch of humor in what was probably going to be a very heavy conversation, but knew it had fallen flat when Kirk's face crumpled.

One of the crewmembers who had never actually seen his captain cry before, Chekov was caught a bit off guard. It further baffled him that these tears were for him. Kirk stumbled over to the seat Lauren had occupied, shoulders shaking.

"I'm sorry, Chekov," he said. "I'm just so sorry."

Chekov stared at him, wondering what exactly he was sorry for. "It vasn't your fault, Keptin," he said. "It's not like you knew Moloz vas vaiting on ze planet ven you sent me down zere."

Kirk shook his head. "But I could have gotten to you faster," he said. "I could have had Scotty lock onto our signals and beam us up sooner. This – " he gestured toward Chekov's torso, and Chekov wasn't sure whether he was talking about the bruises, the stab wound, or both – "should never have happened. I should have been there. I should never have let them do this to you."

In all reality, Chekov realized, Kirk should have been there. It usually fell to the captain to lead the first away mission on a new ship. Kirk should reasonably have been the one captured by Moloz. But Chekov couldn't help being glad he wasn't. He wouldn't have wished this experience on any of his friends.

His family.

And watching Kirk sit there, sobbing over something that was so far out of his control, something that wasn't his fault, Chekov wondered how he could ever, even for the briefest of moments, believed Moloz was right. Moloz had said loyalty, family, the ties that bound him to his friends, were all lies. But he had been wrong.

Because if they had been lies, Chekov would be on his way to a mining colony right now, and Kirk would be exploring some part of the galaxy with a valid reason for his guilty conscience.

"Zey did beat me," Chekov began, and Kirk looked up as though he were shocked he'd decided to speak. "Zey abused me. Tortured me, ewen. And yes, I did almost die from zat stab vound. But no matter vat ze physical ramifications vere, zere is von thing ze Orions could newer take away from me, Keptin." He grabbed Kirk's arm, to be sure he was listening. "Ze fact zat I had people villing to move planets to get me back. If zat doesn't prove Moloz wrong on his opinion of family, I don't know vat vould."

Kirk sat there, eyes downcast. When he looked back up, there was fire in them.

"Of course, we'd move planets. Hell, we'd move the whole galaxy if we had to. We love you, Chekov." Chekov's eyes must have widened at that, because Kirk laughed. "I mean, what else was going to get Bones moving through the sewers just to break into that amphitheater? Why else would Scotty threaten to make haggis out of someone's innards? Yeah, that happened. And it was disturbing, to say the least."

Kirk sat back in his seat and sighed, as though debating whether what he was about to say was a good idea.

"Dammit, I love you, Chekov," he said. "You know I've never said that to another member of the crew? Not even Bones. I mean, there was Carol, but she doesn't count. We were together. But you...you're like my brother. Every bit as much as Bones is. So if you ever doubt that there's anything I wouldn't do for you – "

He was cut off by Chekov leaning over the bed and wrapping his arms around him. Of course, that was interrupted by a grunt of pain from the Russian in question, followed by Jim hurriedly easing himself into a sitting position on the bed so Chekov's wound didn't start bleeding again.

"I don't think zat vill be an issue, Keptin," Chekov said. "And, for vat it's vorth, you're as good as a brother to me, too."

Jim smiled, hugging him as tight as the wound would allow. "You know these past four days have been some of the scariest of my life, right? Not to mention the past four hours."

Chekov laughed wryly. "You should have seen zem from zis side of things."

There was silence. "Chekov, I really am – "

"Jim," he said, addressing him by his first name for the first time. "Stop apologizing for things you can't change."

Jim nodded. "Okay." Pulling back, he decided a slight change of subject was in order. "So, speaking of brotherhood...how would you feel about being an uncle?"

Chekov raised an eyebrow. "You are avare Demora already calls me 'Uncle', right – " Suddenly, his train of thought broke off and his jaw dropped. "Vait, vat?"

"Carol's pregnant."

Chekov processed that for a few moments, then lay back in bed. "Zat...is terrifying. Sir."

"You know, Bones said basically the same thing."

"A little person zat's half you, half Dr. Marcus running around," Chekov commented. "Ze end of ze uniwerse is nigh."

Jim laughed, then reached out and squeezed Chekov's shoulder. "It's good to have you home, Pavel."

Chekov sighed and closed his eyes. "It's good to be home, Jim."

And that wraps up Saving Ensign Chekov. This was an idea that's been ruminating honestly ever since I saw Beyond. I decided that I wanted to see more of Chekov and Kirk's friendship, and exactly the lengths Kirk will go to for his crew. Thus, this story was born. Thanks to those of you who read and reviewed! Shout out to my most frequent reviewers: equine02 and booksfoodmusic-minion. I'm glad you thought it was worth the time!

I was originally going to let you guys sit for more than, well, a day before I finished it, but the inspiration struck and I just had to finish. I hope the final chapter was to your approval. Also, I will have you know I cried a bit as I was writing this one. Mostly because, especially in this particular chapter, I was thinking about Anton A LOT. May he rest in peace.

Read, review, enjoy, please return for more later! I'm planning a few one shots down the road. I really want to follow up on Lauren. I didn't intend for her to play much more of a role in the story, but she did, and her character intrigues me. I'll probably revisit her at the Academy. Also, there will be one of when Carol goes into labor/the crew's reaction to David.

And here's where I'm tacky and pitch my other stories. I have a Bones/OC, currently moderate amounts of Chekov/OC series going called Statistical Impossibilities. It has three installments, (Breathe, Echoes of the Past, and Down to the Wire), along with a series of Companion One Shots. Literally, that's what they're called. I also wrote a tribute a while back for Anton Yelchin called We're Not Ready. If you feel emotionally ready for such a thing after this one, please check it out. Other than that, I have an unrelated one shot called The Blood of the Covenant, which is basically a whole lot of laughs. Picture Scotty, Sulu, Chekov, and Keenser on a road trip. It gets fun.

Once again, thank you all so much for reading! Much love to you all, live long and prosper, and never forget that Scotch was actually inwented by a little old lady in Russia. (Leningrad, if you want specifics.) Good night!