Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Thank you Shameless, Meg, Andbreathme, Bookie and T'Prime for reviewing!
I noticed I had this fic marked as 'M', I don't believe it qualifies, so I'm taking it down to 'T' and if need be I can always bump it back up.
Huge Thank You to my Beta and adopted baby-sis MegKevin for helping me with this chapter!
TenForward was full of the usual crowd, those lonely souls who were homesick and needed to drown their sorrows before heading to their empty beds. Sulu could sympathize; being this far away from anything remotely recognizable was hard on humans and most other species. Some of the crew were better equipped to handle the stress, like Uhura and Jim, but some needed the solace found only in large crowds, of people who shared their pain. TenFoward was the only spot on board that allowed them the company they craved without having to put forth effort or polish their social skills. Sulu and Chekov had spent many an evening at a back corner table, talking, playing poker, and drinking. They were always surrounded by friends, laughter and fun. It was their daily stress relief. The loss of those companionable evenings stung the dark haired man worse than a slap to the face. This rift should not have been allowed to grow this wide.
Scanning the room, Sulu found the younger man sitting alone at the bar, eyes only for his drink. No laughter spilled from his lips, no smile radiated from his eyes. Under his best friend's horrified watch, Chekov had become sullen and removed. This was deeper than throwing himself at any available women and his apparent commitment issues. It was as if his very soul had been crushed. Whatever miracle Sulu had to pull, he was going to help his best friend heal from the demon that had fractured his spirit. Not really taking stock of anyone else in the room, Sulu made his way towards the blonde, taking the thankfully empty seat next to him.
Chekov did not look up or acknowledge his arrival. "I thought I'd come to see what you were doing, what the draw was to this place." He tried to laugh, but the forced sound died in his throat when the younger man finally turned to face him.
Lines were deeply etched in his young face, his mouth turned down in a frown. "It has wodka." That was the only response he offered.
Several moments lingered as Sulu tried to swallow past the lump that had formed in his throat. Never before had Chekov's gaze been so empty, his face so emotionless. While he was still without a plan, Sulu knew he had to get his friend out of this place and take him to somewhere more private to comfort the teen. He needed to remind Chekov of their everlasting friendship, how much he meant to the older man. Placing a gentle hand under Chekov's arm, Sulu tugged him towards the exit. "Why don't you and I hang out for a while, man? We haven't done that in forever." He tried to sound relaxed and care free, like he used to sound all the time when they spoke.
Jerking his arm away, Chekov cut his eyes up at the older man. "I don't vant to." His voice was gruff from the vodka.
Taking a deep breath, Sulu calmed himself. It would do no good if he lost his temper with his friend, but his nerves were frayed. "Please?" It was not a whine, but it was just barely above one. He was desperate, they needed to get out of this environment, because once they were alone, Sulu was sure Chekov would talk with him and explain this whole rebel behavior, what had happened to steal the sunshine that once fell ceaselessly from his bright features.
For a brief moment, the old Pavel flashed in those hazel eyes as he nodded and rose to follow Sulu, but it was gone as soon as it came, replaced by the stiff shoulders and slow saunter. They walked side by side towards the door, Chekov's body stiffening as they made their way through the crowd. Women winked and laughed as he passed and from the lights on his PADD, some were even sending him messages. It turned Sulu's stomach to watch. They treated him like a piece of meat, going to the highest bidder. How had his young friend been reduced to this? How had he let himself? What was wrong with these women that made them think they could treat someone like this? Did they not know what they were doing? Could they not see his innocence had been stolen somehow by someone? Knowing that Sulu had not been able to protect his best friend cleaved his battered heart in two. Whatever had happened, whoever had done it, Sulu would repair the damage.
Once in the hallway, Sulu took a deep breath, stopping in his tracks trying to regain his composure. He twisted his head from side to side, stretching and popping the tendons and ligaments. "We really need to talk about this, Pav. You're not yourself." He let out a deep sigh, turning to look at his best friend.
Sulu had been prepared for an argument, even anger, but the look in Pavel's eye was something even worse. It was total abandonment and near-hatred. "I am just fine." His whisper laced with threat. "You are not my keeper. You don't know anything about me. Just leave me alone. I don't need you, I hawe not needed you for quite some time now. You just go along; Pawel Chekov does not need any one, especially not you." He sneered into Sulu's face.
Something inside the Pilot snapped. He was tired of the bullshit and the constant turnabout. Now Chekov dared to look at him as if he were the one who had drove him to this insanity. What he would have given for this man to have a perfect, pain-free life. He had no right to doubt his true and honest intentions. He had never hurt his friend, knowingly or willingly, and never would. Seeing red, Sulu drove Chekov into the far wall, his hands grasping the younger man's collar. "You tell me what in the hell is going on, right now! I'm tired of this!" He growled his threat into the small space left between their faces.
Saying nothing, the Navigator dug his fingers into Sulu's arms and twisted his torso and pushed so that he had the taller man pressed up against the wall, slamming him back so forcefully it rattled his teeth. "I don't hawe to explain anything to you!" His voice was low, no hint of friendship in his defiant tone.
A sudden fire lit the Asian's dark eyes; this would be one fight he would win – no matter the cost, because Pavel Chekov was wrong. He did have to explain and of all the people on this ship, Sulu was the one who would understand the most. Latching on to Chekov's arm again, Sulu forced him down the hall. For the most part, Chekov followed without argument; most of the fight had drained out of him, but his steps were stiff. This was a war of the wills, but Sulu had the advantage: he'd been an angsty teenager before and knew how they operated. Blindly, Sulu tore down the hall, finally stopping at the gym.
He led them into the middle of the gym on the padded wrestling mats. Letting go of Chekov, he turned to face him. Jaw squared, he pulled his gold tunic over his head tossing it to the side. "If you want a fight, you've got one. Come on, Pav, think you can handle a tussle with a man? Or do you need to use some little female?" He crouched in his blacks, waiting to attack. His broken heart was twisting his words, hoping to cause as much damage to the other man.
Sneering, Chekov quickly disposed of his tunic, eyes only leaving the pilot's when blocked by the fabric. "You vill vish you had left me to my wodka." He gave a short, humorless laugh, his body posed for the fight.
Not waiting for his opponent to attack, Sulu lunged. He tackled the smaller man to the ground, pinning him, his hands gripping his wrists. Chekov allowed himself to be pinned long enough for Sulu to mentally congratulate himself, before he brought up his knees for leverage and reversed their positions. Grunting he pinned the pilot, his fingers grinding into his pulse points on his wrist. Sulu squirmed under his hold, trying to release the pressure, finally able to push Chekov on the floor. He stood up shoving the long black hair from his eyes. "Is that the best you've got?" He panted.
Jumping to his feet, Chekov charged. "I'll show you ze best I'we got!" His right hook was blocked but his left jab connected with the other man's chin. Slightly rattled from the punch, Sulu shook his head and hit Chekov with a one-two combo. His right fist collided with his opponent's rib cage and his left rammed his right orbital socket. Chekov countered with a punch to Sulu's breast bone and an upper cut.
They fought for several minutes before a crowd formed, each punch sent blood spattering the white mats, each man dripping with sweat. Equally matched, punch for punch and kick for kick, pounding their frustrations out on their best friend. Not one inch of their skin was left unmarked, ugly bruises trailed their arms, legs and faces. Knuckles were bloody, with blood from their own body and their rivals. Frustration, anger and torment permeated the air as their feral growls echoed on the high walls. Adrenaline flooded their systems, numbing the pain and blocking out any rational thought. So much pain had been kept under tight wraps and now it was breaking loose, lashing out at the one who had caused its misery.
Slowly, their motions came to a halt, their breath ragged and their hearts pounding. Staggering on their feet, wore out from the physical exertion and the mental release in such a few short minutes, they held each other's gaze – no longer white hot in agony, but relieved. While they had not said a word, somehow just beating the shit out of each other had helped. Sitting down back to back, they leaned against each other for support. The other men were still urging them to continue fighting, until another louder voice rose above the crowd. "Haven't you people got any decency? Leave these two alone." Two pairs of swollen eyes looked up at Bones.
Shaking his head, Bones squatted down beside the pair. "I didn't think you boys were the violent type." He offered a hand to each of the men and assisted them to stand. "Let's get you two cleaned up. As punishment, you are both walking to Med Bay without anyone but each other for assistance." He turned on his heel and strode away from the shaky men.
Chekov wrapped Sulu's arm around his shoulder and his arm around Sulu's waist. "I vill help you, Hikaru." His voice was tender, his eyes shining again like they once had before.
Sulu nodded, smiling faintly, allowing the younger man to half-drag him down the hallway behind the griping doctor. If it took fighting like dogs every night for the rest of their mission or even their lives to help Chekov relax and be himself, then Sulu could handle it. He just hoped that Bones wouldn't yell too much - his ears were still ringing. And still they would have a heart-to-heart conversation and Sulu would get to the bottom of Chekov's behavior. The battle may be over, but the war still raged on.
A/N: Thanks for reading.
I've never written a fight between Pavel and Hikaru before. It was quite liberating
Please review/comment and tell me what you think. Ready for some tender lovin' in the next chapter?
