Spock was a man of logic. He knew that choosing Pavel Chekov as his partner on the mission probably wasn't the best of ideas.
Of course, Pavel was an excellent officer, and had proven himself on many occasions.
Despite that, Spock still found himself doubting the abilities of the young ensign. He really didn't even want the Russian to come with him at all. But Jim's pestering had convinced him to take him along anyway.
It was honestly a peaceful mission, until they found themselves being chased by the native species.
Their weapons were primitive, and they spoke in a way that sounded more like barks than words.
A spear whizzed by Spock's ear, and he ducked, pushing Chekov out of the way before an arrow embedded itself in his head. The killing shot stuck in a tree, and Pavel blinked at it. Realizing it was originally meant for his head.
"Ensign, come this way!" Spock yelled, and Chekov followed, his blood pounding in his ears.
Suddenly Spock stopped short, and Pavel found himself skidding to a halt inches before the edge of a large cliff.
He found himself feeling dizzy just looking down it. "Sir! Vwe are surrounded!" Pavel yelled, the wind making his voice hard to hear.
Quickly, eyeing both the cliff and the natives, Spock a split second decision. "Ensign, do you trust me?"
The wind was howling, sweeping their hair in every way. Pavel's eyebrows knit together as confusion rippled across his face. "Of course, sir. But..."
He never got to finish his question, because at that moment, Spock grabbed his arm and pushed him over the edge. Spock fell with him, his eyes closed in what looked like meditation.
Chekov didn't even have time to acknowledge fear before they slammed into the river below.
The water was cold, and Pavel felt the air leave his lungs as he sunk into the darkness. Without thinking he began kicking his feet.
His head found the surface, and he took a huge breath in. "Mr. Spock! Mr. Spock?" He yelled. The sky was beginning to darken, and thunder boomed ominously. "Spock!"
Chekov swam around, kicking furiously to keep himself afloat. Lighting flashed, and in the corner of his eye he caught sight of a darker shade of blue.
Surging forward, he felt his fingers slip through Spock's hair, and he dived down, wrapping his arms under his arms. His legs kicked up, and he broke the surface again, keeping Spock's head above the water as well.
With what seemed like super human strength, Chekov kicked his legs, looking for some sort of shore.
The sand felt good underneath Pavel's feet, but his legs felt wobbly from swimming so much. Spock's weight had become a burden, but he refused to let the older man go.
Finally he found himself on dry land, he dragged Spock up the beach, his arms feeling like jelly.
The sky was still dark with clouds, and a few drops of rain sprinkled his face. His attention immediately went to the unconscious man. He stopped himself from putting his fingers to Spock's neck, and instead brought to mind the first aid McCoy had taught him. His heart was in his abdomen, on the... Left side.
He placed a hand where he believed Spock's heart to be. He felt a sudden wave of relief when he felt a heartbeat. He moved his hand to his mouth, and was even more relieved to feel his breath.
Sighing, Pavel fell back against the sand, letting exhaustion take over. He began to doze off when a loud clap of thunder shook him awake. He sat up just as the rain began to to pelt the two officers.
Standing, Pavel looked around for some kind of shelter as the cold wind swept his wet hair off his forehead. Then he saw it. Just to his left, a rock outcropping. Bending down, the Russian grabbed Spock's wrists and began to drag/ pull the unconscious Vulcan to the cave.
By the time they got there, the wind was blowing furiously, and the rain was pounding everything. Lighting kit up everything in a bright, light violet every ten seconds or so.
As he got closer, he noticed it was actually a cave. Taking a deep breath, Pavel summoned what little strength he had left and dragged Spock the rest of the way into the cave. Finally out if the cold rain, Pavel sat back against the wall of the cave, shivering slightly at the coldness of the rock.
Spock was still sleeping soundly, and Chekov noticed a small trickle of emerald blood seeping from his hairline. He figured he must have hit his head while under water.
Still shivering, Pavel reached into his belt, pulling out his commentator. He flipped it open, and watched as water trickled out from the battery pack. He sighed, tossing it to the side. So much for that idea. Spock flinched slightly in his sleep, and Chekov glanced back at him.
Thinking, Pavel decided it would be best to find some wood to start a fire. He'd be no use to Spock if he died of hyperthermia. Slowly the Russian stood up, his burning muscles protesting.
He didn't go very far, just to the small group of trees outside the cave. The rain soaked the majority of the ground, but the canopy of leaves kept the ground underneath mostly dry. Pavel picked up as many sticks as he could carry, and brought them back to the cave. He made a few trips until he decided he had enough.
Taking his phaser out, Chekov checked the casing, and was happy to see its sealing had been watertight. Adjusting the settings, he pointed it at a pile he made, and shot.
The wood erupted in flame, and Pavel was glad to feel warmth again. His hands were very cold.
Adding wood every now and then, Pavel sat back and relaxed. He knew Starfleet would find them eventually.
Spock didn't remember much. He remembered falling, god, who could forget that? He remembered feeling his body hit the water, and he remembered sinking down far too fast. And most of all, he remembered slamming his head against a sudden rock outcropping under the water.
What he didn't remember was how he got to what sounded like a cave. He heard echoes of a fire crackling, and the soft breathing of someone nearby.
He felt warm, despite remembering the chilliness of the water. The fire popped, and Spock found himself trying to open his eyes. His head was pounding. A sudden memory surfaced in his mind.
Chekov.
The young ensign had jumped with him. He felt a new surge of energy, just enough to finally break the barrier between unconsciousness and being awake.
Slowly his eyes opened, they focused on the roof of the cave he was in, and he glanced around. He moved to sit up, noticing the soreness of his wrists and arms. Spock propped himself against the side of the cave wall.
His eyes found Chekov on the other side of the fire, and he relaxed slightly with relief. The young Russian was sleeping, his head drooped to the side. He had a large pile of sticks by his leg, and one gripped in his hand.
He looked exhausted, he had bags under his eyes, and he was paler than usual.
The fire started to burn out, and Spock quickly added more wood, not wanting the warmth to leave. Outside, the world was darkened by clouds and rain was pelting everything. An occasional lightning bolt lit up the entrance of the cave.
Spock found himself wondering how the two of them got there. Obviously Chekov was the one who started the fire, he must have been the one to get the wood too.
It was pretty obvious Spock had been out for a while. He didn't know how long exactly, but it seemed to have been at least a day.
Upon losing consciousness underwater he had no idea what happened next.
A thought flashed in his brain, but he dismissed it almost immediately. It wasn't possible...Was it? Did Chekov, the skinny, short boy in front of him... Carry him?
The soreness of his wrists flared up, and Spock looked down at his black pants. There was dirt and sand caked to back of his uniform. Then no... Not carry... Chekov dragged him, all the way from the beach.
Wearily Spock stood up, his head still swimming. He walked to the entrance of the cave, using the wall to balance him.
He looked out, and found that the beach was very far from his current position. It wasn't even a beach, more a shoreline for the river that flowed through the canion that had created the cliff.
Spock looked back at the sleeping ensign. He couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for the young man to get himself and Spock to safety.
A new feeling bubbled up in Spock's mind, a feeling he only felt to a handful of people.
He felt respect.
Three hours later they were found by doctor McCoy and a small security team. After their lack of communications became worrisome, the captain issued a search party to look for them.
The two were back at work within two days, and Spock never once doubted the young navigator again.