Chekov, awoke, his body fighting its way to consciousness against his will. His eyes opened and he glanced around dim light hurting his eyes and waking him wince. His head hurt and his mouth was dry and sour tasting. His tried to swallow but throat felt sore and swollen. A mask was on his face and he smelled the faintly sickening smell of stale concentrated oxygen. Around him he could hear a dim beeping sound. He stared at his surroundings confusedly. He felt he should know where he was but he couldn't figure it out. He struggled to sit up and felt a wave of dizziness and nausea roll through him. He paused for a moment and let it lessen before he pushed himself weakly up.

The mask on his face felt suffocating; he pulled it off and immediately a new beeping sound added to the noises already surrounding. He turned his head and saw Dr. McCoy and Uhura sitting slumped in chairs by his bedside fast asleep. As Chekov watched McCoy gave a groan and woke up. He glanced toward a monitor, muttering something and then turned toward Chekov. When he saw the ensign was awake he got up rather stiffly and walked over.

The doctor was pleasantly surprised to see the boy awake. He scowled when he noticed the mask was removed. "Damn it kid you're supposed to be a genius and you're just as bad as the rest of my patients. How many times do people have to become short of breath before they'll realize they need oxygen to breathe? " McCoy grumbled as he securely put the mask back on Chekov ignoring the ensign's weak attempt to stop him. He grabbed a tricoder and began running a scan.

Chekov reached up again to take the mask off only to be stopped by McCoy's hand grabbing his firmly. "Leave it alone." The comment was firm but said in a kinder way than McCoy's usual gruff tone. Chekov desperately wanted to know what was going on. He couldn't remember anything past falling asleep in his bed.

McCoy finished his scan and put the tricorder away. "Your brain function appears normal, labs are still a little off though." The doctor muttered to himself as he picked up another instrument and documented something on a data PADD. Chekov used the opportunity to remove the oxygen mask, when McCoy turned back he frowned but instead of replacing the mask asked. "How are you feeling?"

Chekov opened his mouth to reply and all that came out was a faint croak. McCoy reached over and poured him a glass of water. Chekov gulped the water down, feeling the cool liquid soothe his parched throat. He finished the glass ignoring McCoy's disapproving expression as he handed the doctor empty glass.

"Do you remember any of what happened?" Chekov shook his head and regretted the action as his head swam; his stomach which was already turning uncomfortably with nausea, revolted at the action. McCoy who had apparently been expecting the reaction grabbed a basin from a nearby table and placed in front of the ensign as he threw up. Chekov's shoulders shook as he retched repeatedly, bringing up nothing but bile from his already empty stomach. McCoy glared at Chekov even though the boy wasn't paying him any attention as he heaved. The doctor tried not to feel sorry and resisted the urge to administer an antiemetic. He felt Chekov deserved the discomfort; maybe then he would consider not acting an idiot like half the rest of the crew. He refused to even think about what he suspected Chekov had been trying to do and instead preferred to think the alcohol ingestion and pills had been the ensign joining in the revelry going on by trying to get high. Even thinking that it was anything else made McCoy turn cold at the thought of how much he had neglected over the past few days , by being so preoccupied with his own problems he hadn't noticed anyone else.

His resolve to let Chekov suffer for awhile failed as he watched the ensign groan before dry heaves wracked his body and he spat a thin string of saliva out before retching again. McCoy picked up a hypo and gave Chekov an injection. Then he pulled the basin away after a few minutes as the ensign sat back weakly gasping before asking "vhy do I feel so bad?" That comment was the last straw for McCoy who had been doing his best to hold back his own anger at the Ensign's actions.

"Why do you feel so bad? This is your own damn fault" he began angrily "You're in sickbay puking your guts up and feeling like sh- because you drank at least two entire bottles of Vodka! Your blood alcohol was so high it's a miracle you aren't dead. And to cap it off you took an entire bottle of sleeping pills." McCoy continued berating him "You heart stopped Chekov; you were dead! For three damn minutes you were dead! What the f— were you thinking? " He slammed the hypo he was holding down on a table "you deserve to feel like sh-. You-"

The last bit of colour faded from Chekov's face as he remembered pieces of what had happened. His heart was hammering against his ribs as he recalled his father's words and the people he had seen in his dream. He remembered the sharp taste of alcohol as he had gulped mouthfuls down...

McCoy stopped, looking down at the pale ensign's face and watched as the boys expression changed as he remembered what had happened. His face was screwed up into such an expression of agony it was painful to watch. Immediately the doctor felt guilty for taking his own anger out on Chekov. He didn't need to be yelled at whatever was going through his head was bad enough.

"Chekov, what's going on? Why did you do this?" McCoy said quietly.

The boy had tears in his eyes as he turned to McCoy. He spoke his voice tormented, "I just vanted eet to stop."

"You wanted what to stop? Your life?" McCoy said the last part slipped out accidentally.

"The dreams, everything, I vanted eet all gone" Chekov said the tears falling now.

"What dreams?" A soft voice asked. Uhura had awoken from her sleep and without either of them noticing was standing by the bed.

"All the stuff I've done. I can't forget. I can't stop remembering: Everybody, My mother, Kelly, Liska, commander Spock's mother. " Chekov mumbled; his words jumbled and confused. He spoke like the words were tumbling out and he couldn't hold it back anymore.

Uhura hear a slight intake of breath at her side and glanced around; Spock was standing rigidly a few feet from her side. Spock had left the bridge at the end of his shift and was looking for Uhura when somebody he passed had mentioned they saw her going to sickbay. Spock's face had paled at the mention of his mother, but his expression remained the same, only Uhura could detect the emotions behind it. She reached out and fighting down her own fear and revulsion grasped his fingers for a moment before pulling away.

Spock was surprised by her touch. He stared at her his features carefully composed but his eyes were more expressive than any expression could have been. He felt Uhura at the edge of his mind and the link he sought was closed off. He was alone. The only hint of her he could feel were the emotions and thoughts that were so strong they seeped past her mental barriers. The trickle of her consciousness was painful as he felt it slip into his mind; he could have cut it off if he wanted to, but he was reluctant to close off any contact with Uhura no matter how painful it was too him.

Uhura held Spock's gaze trying to shake off the sick feeling that accompanied her at the mere sight or thought of him. She saw the firm set of his mouth and the flicker of sadness in his eyes and she realised that her mind was as closed off as she thought. They stared at each other intensely for a second longer and she could fell his mind brushing against hers, but she didn't allow him in; she couldn't. Uhura turned away fighting back tears, as Chekov spoke again.

"Everybody's dead" He whispered as tears dripped down his cheeks.

Chekov turned his face toward them his face was tortured, haunted. "They all died because of me, all of them"

"What are you talking about?" McCoy said gently

In a voice raw with agony, Chekov began to tell them. He told them what had happened while he lived with his father. How he had tried to save his mother. How she and his siblings had died. He told them how his father had died. His life at orphanages, working on a mercenary's ship, and a crewman named Liska's death. He told them about how Spock's mother death was his fault.

When he finally finished, with telling them how Kelly had really died he was wracked with sobs, his face twisted with agony and grief. He leaned forward, his legs pulled up, his arms wrapped around his knees. He didn't look at any of them. As he had spoken Uhura and McCoy had punctuated his narrative with unintended gasps of shock and horror. Even Spock's face couldn't help showing emotion at the ensign's words.

The details hadn't been very clear and Chekov had told the story in a confused tangle jumping from one incident to the next, but the horror he had experienced was clear. Spock and McCoy stood there simultaneously uncomfortable and shocked. Uhura had tears running down her face at the boy's words, Chekov who everybody had thought was fine, who had always seemed so happy, had been slowly being ripped apart inside.

Chekov cried for several moments in silence. As his sobs quieted somewhat, Spock spoke stiffly but softly, his eyes focused on Chekov. "Ensign Chekov. " Spock waited until Chekov had glanced up before continuing. "You had no fault in my mother's death, indeed if you hadn't been operating the transporter at that time it was quite probable that none of us would have made it. And to harbour guilt for all these deaths is illogical, based on the circumstances you could not have changed the outcomes." The young Russian stared at Spock, then fresh tears welled up in his eyes, but McCoy could see that Spock's statement while formal in its delivery, had taken some of the weight of guilt from the ensign's shoulders.

For Spock the entire display of emotion was uncomfortable, but he had been serious with what he had said. Chekov was not to blame for his mother's death; the ensign had showed such a display of skill with the transporter in conditions where there was a very slim possibility of any of them being picked up. In truth Spock had gone down to the planet Vulcan knowing there was a very high probability that he wouldn't be coming back. He had accepted his death because he wouldn't... he couldn't live with knowing that his mother had died without him even trying to save her. He didn't blame Chekov for her death, he blamed his father. His father had kept him from visiting her, had made him stay away. If he hadn't perhaps she wouldn't have even been on that planet, or he could have known where she was immediately. The few seconds he had taken to think of where she could be, would have made a difference. A few seconds and the cliff wouldn't have crumbled underneath her; she would have been safely transported. She would have been alive.

Spock noticed that Uhura had turned to look at him again; he saw an almost frightened expression flit across her face as she beheld the anger that must have been clearly evident. He cleared his face but not before she had glanced away extremely troubled.

Chekov said, his eyes refusing to meet theirs "You don't know the all things I've done...If you did you vould hate me w-w-wery " He gave up trying to pronounce the word and instead , was quiet then gave a mirthless laugh and glanced at Uhura. "You once asked about my accent right?" He said. Without waiting for her to answer he looked away and said bitterly " the reason I can't even talk right is because...my father broke my jaw when I was young...I never could speak certain vords after that...the same night my mom and Irina and Pitir vent out ...I think taking me to the hospital... I don't remember eet much...but they died and that was my fault."

Chekov fell silent for a minute. Nobody spoke. Then he said " I should have saved my mother, and Irina and Pitir. I could have saved them... I could have saved my father if I had told somebody earlier—I - I didn't want too,—I vaited until I knew he was gone-. And Liska put me on the ship—and he stayed behind and-"

McCoy spoke this time "Chekov your mother and your siblings couldn't have been saved. It's a miracle that you didn't die that night. And as for your father..." McCoy paused and cast around for something to say that wouldn't betray the horror he felt with Chekov's confession on what had happened to his father. McCoy finally said "You did what anybody in your position would have done, he was probably already dead, Chekov... And Lika, I mean Liska he did that because he didn't want you to die. It wasn't your fault"

Chekov looked up and said brokenly, his words interspersed by sobs. " Vhat about Leah? she's not my fault too?- You didn't see her,-you veren't there! You don't understand! I lied! You don't know vhat happened. That vas my fault.- I left- and she vas alive -she vas alive and looking at me, - and there was blood –"

His words came faster tumbling over each other, in a confused tangle; his voice growing louder with every word. "so much blood—I tried to get her out- I tried to— She told me to go-She said for me to go—and I did – I did -I left her there alone- I left her there to die " He was almost hysterical "she's dead and I killed her-, eet should have been me. -She should be alive and I should be dead, -eet should have been me!" He screamed at them, and then a wordless sound that sounded like somebody was being tortured issued forth from him. The noise cut through them like knife. They stared at him. He was panting and as they watched he reached out sweeping objects off a nearby counter and sending them tumbling to the floor in a loud clatter. His shoulders shook as he sank his fingernails into his palms, reopening the newly healed lacerations until his hands were wet with blood. At the sight of the crimson liquid he began sobbing harder and rocking back and forth.

Uhura moved closer and placed a hand on his back as she spoke "Pavel, she wanted you to live, that's why she told you to go; she knew that she was dying but she wanted you to live." She looked up at Spock her eyes staring into his, but she was still talking. "Sometimes, a person can't be with you, but the love you so they push you away so you won't be hurt. They don't want their pain, to be yours. They don't want you to be hurt, because they love you ..." She paused, her eyes gazing into Spock's he looked at her and she saw him swallow, a tear rolled down her cheek.

She glanced back at Chekov. He had tears streaming down his face as he whispered. "I loved her- and I never told her. I should -have stayed with her. I loved her ... I-I shouldn't have left her alone."

Uhura felt her own emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She brushed the moisture off her face trying to keep her voice steady as she said. "Pavel, Leah loved you that's why she made you leave. She didn't want you to die... she wanted you to live... Your mother, Liska, Kelly they all wanted you to live."

At her words something broke inside of him, all the pain and guilt, he felt, rushed forward in an overwhelming flood. His shoulders began to shake in audible sobs and whimpers which grew to wordless screams as he finally let go. Uhura sat down on the edge of his bed and wrapped her arms around him. She held him brushing his hair back and rubbing his back. In a quiet voice she gently spoke to him as he cried and screamed, the entire time her eyes stared into Spock's.

Finally Chekov fell into an exhausted sleep. Uhura gently lowered him down. All three of them stared at Chekov his face was still worried and he looked physically and mentally exhausted. But there was something about it that told them he was freer than he had been in a long time.

McCoy felt uncomfortable. Where was Christine Chapel when you needed her? He wasn't trained for this consoling people. It just wasn't what he did. And what was going on with Spock and Uhura? He didn't need this he had his own problems. All this emotional crap was getting to him; he brushed a tear from his eye, mentally convincing himself that it was the dry air of sickbay.

McCoy pulled the blankets over the boy and fussed over him running tests. Minutes later he ran out of things to do. Spock and Uhura still stood there staring at Chekov. McCoy turned back and sighed heavily, as he looked down at the ensign allowing himself to feel some of the emotion he was trying to repress. Spock, McCoy and Uhura stood there for several moments each was quietly horrified in their own way and preoccupied with their own thoughts. McCoy's gruff voice broke the silence summing up what each of them had been thinking.

"He's been through hell."

Next update will be May 4th (with a three day margin either way) Many apologies for the late update. Thanks to all followers, favouriters, and reviewers. Questions for this chapter: What was your feeling about the chapter was it overly emotional, or on target? And were you surprised that Chekov once worked on a mercenary ship before joining starfleet? Yes there is alot to him (at least in my universe) than meets the eye. Anyway, enjoy and feedback is appreciated.