Picard: What we leave behind is as important as how we've lived. After all, Number One, we're only mortal.
Riker: Speak for yourself, sir. I plan to live forever. -Star Trek: Generations

II.

Checkov didn't think he had ever been as cold as he was now. "Do vou zink zat zee Enterpwise vill find us, Hikaru?"

Sulu, who was curled next to Checkov, hands shaking as he wrapped them around his body, could only shrug. "Of course, Pavel." His words were stuttered and held less conviction than they had five hours ago when they were dropped on the ice world, along with Spock and the Captain, to do some 'exploring.'

It had taken a lot of cajoling, hours of needling, and a good amount of pouting on Kirk's part to even get Spock on board with the whole beaming down to a planet of ice deal. Vulcans, who ran a higher internal temperature than humans, were more susptable to the effects of cold, and Spock had been adament about staying on board. But Sulu had never seen anyone who was able to turn a determined Kirk down.

Of course, there was trouble from the start. After a shift in tectonic plates, Spock had been thrown off-balance and knocked his head against the rock. Sulu assured Kirk that he and Checkov could complete the scans alone, "Go back on board." Beside him, Checkov had nodded. Sulu wasn't the only one who'd noticed the flash of fear across Kirk's face when Spock didn't get back to his feet.

That was six hours ago, and it had gotten colder, windier, and more precarious since then. They had found a small cave --- more of a crevice than a cave, actually, an overhang that barely shielded the two men when they curled up against each other. Sulu could feel Checkov's teeth chattering through both of their coats.

Another shift in the ground threw Sulu against Checkov and made the younger boy groan in pain. "Are you okay, Pavel?" One look at the Russian showed he wasn't okay. His cheeks were red, but his mouth was so blue it appeared black. His fingers were stiff, white, bloodless things that wouldn't stay in the too-short sleeves.

"'M fine, Hikaru." But another hiss of agony showed he wasn't, and with as much delicacy and gentleness as he could manage in a half-frozen state, Sulu quickly probed the other man's stomach, searching for wounds.

"Damnit!" He swore, his hands coming back red and sticky, though not as covered as they could have been. Remembering Anatomy 101, Sulu was suddenly glad for the low temperatures, which would keep Checkov's blood sluggish and clotting until they got back to the Enterprise.

If they got back to the Enterprise.

Turning away from Checkov, Sulu buried his hands in the snow, attempting to rid them of the dark, dark red, to no avail. From behind him, he heard Checkov gasp again and turned to find the teen clutching his side, bent double in a picture of agony.

"Shh…Pavel, you're okay. It'll be okay." But his voice was an octave above what was normal, and he was almost screaming the words, unnecessary even in the wind, as they were no more than a foot apart.

Checkov's eyes locked with his, as if he was using the older man as an anchor to reality. One clammy hand reached out and touched the tanned one, and Sulu had to work to stop himself from jerking away at the dead touch. "Hikaru…please, call me Pasha?" His voice was weak, reedy, and so, so scared.

"Pasha?" Sulu asked, holding the hand in his own and bringing it to his lips to blow on. The warm air didn't even register with Checkov, and Sulu began seriously thinking of frostbite, of dead limbs and cold hearts. He began to panic, but he couldn't let it show, not in front of this kid who was counting on him to bring him home safely. "Why Pasha?"

"Pasha is…tiny Pavel…in Russia." Checkov's eyes were squeezed tight in pain, and his breaths were coming in short, tight gasps. "No one at home ewer calls me Pavel."

"Okay, Pasha." Sulu soothed, his voice low. "You have to try to breathe with me, okay?"

"It hurts ---"

"I know. Breathe." He put a note of authority in his tone and felt a wave of sympathy and self-loathing wash over him when Checkov looked at him blankly, wondering why his best friend was asking him to do something that hurt him so bad. "It will hurt Pav --- Pasha. But it will make you better." And it would help the blood clot. Sulu didn't know what he'd do if Checkov began bleeding out. He was a long way from Boy Scouts First Aid, a long way from Dr. McCoy.

When Checkov's breathing began to get more regular, if not less painful, Sulu let himself lean back against the icy wall, his hands still clasped absent-mindedly around Checkov's limp palm. What was taking the Enterprise so long? According to Checkov's chrono, it had now been six hours since they saw Kirk and Spock get beamed up to the Enterprise.

As if reading his mind, Checkov twitched next to him and stared at Sulu. "Mr. Scott said wat vere is much ions in zee atmosphere." He coughed, curling in on himself again, but luckily started taking deep breaths without Sulu's coaching. Sulu didn't know if he could have done that again, not with Checkov looking at him, so pained, so hurt…. "He said, zere is a tiny vindow zat the transporter can use…ewery ten hours."

Well, of course. Sulu huffed, wrapping his arms more securely around himself. He really was cold, but he was used to snow and low temperatures, if not to tornado-strength winds. His family had settled in Montana when he was eight, and he had thought that Checkov, being from the famously cold tundra of Russia, would have a similar tolerance to the frigid temperatures.

When he brought this up, however, Checkov stared at him from behind blue eyelids and lips and red, red cheeks. "Russia is the most bootiful countwy, Hikaru, but zere is no good school zere. I go to Amewica when I am only elewen, and liwe on ze base in California." He paused, seeming spent by the long speech, which had been giving with a great many stutters that made it nearly impossible for Sulu to ascertain what his friend was saying. "It is wery warm in California." Checkov added for clarification.

"I know that, Pasha." He reached one trembling, cold hand and pushed back some of Checkov's curls, which were handing, frozen and limp, down one side of his face. Checkov was frozen to the touch, and his eyes were now unfocused. "Hey, Pasha. Stay with me, alright?"

"I just vant to sleep, Hikaru." He rolled over so he was facing away from Sulu, from the wind, and curled in on himself.

Sulu knew that it was, not only possible, but likely that they would die of hypothermia if the Enterprise didn't get to them soon. For some reason, probably the cold, and his exhaustion because of it, he wasn't all that scared of the prospect of death. But he did have a problem with Checkov, who was young and intelligent and always made him laugh during the long hours of duty…he had a problem with Checkov dying.

"I'll sleep with you, Pasha." He didn't have time to recognize the implications behind the statement, only able to focus his energy on lifting his arm and bringing it around Checkov, spooning him, holding him close enough that Sulu's breath landed on Checkov's neck.

The effect was instantaneous and noticeable. Checkov sighed as his back and legs, which were facing towards the wind and snow and cold, were blocked by Sulu's larger body. "Thanks…Hikaru." The word made Sulu bite down hard on his tongue to stop the tears from coming. Checkov was bleeding out onto his hands, was freezing and miserable and dying on a planet hundreds and thousands of lightyears from home...and he was still such a sweet, sweet kid. Not a kid. Sulu amended to himself. Anyone who had gone through what Checkov had, what the crew of the Enterprise had, wasn't a kid, which was both a joyous and heartbreaking realization.

At that point, Sulu couldn't even work up the energy to shake Checkov to keep him from falling to sleep. He was being pushed down that void himself. "Don't die on me, Hikaru…" Or at least that's what he tried to say, but the chattering of his teeth and the screaming wind might have changed the words entirely.

When the Enterprise beamed them up fifty minutes later, it took McCoy five laborious minutes to get the two to stop sticking together: they'd been iced over completely in that time. "Damnit!" McCoy swore, staring at the readings which proclaimed that, if he didn't hurry, the ship would be down a few good men. Checkov's wound, which had been frozen, was beginning to thaw, turning the white crewmates a terrifying shade of scarlet

Rushing past a gaping Kirk and a still-swaying Spock, McCoy didn't notice that, even on the hospital gurneys, even in unconsciousness and in the warmth of the Enterprise, Sulu and Checkov were still locked together, barely breathing, asleep in each other's arms.

This is very cute. If nothing else, you should review for Sulu and Checkov. Hint hint.