Joanna will be in a piano recital and we got her a puppy. She's been begging for one for weeks now ,ever since one of her friends got one. He's a cute, little cocker spaniel mix, and just the funniest little thing. The two of them tumbling around together is a sight to behold, but you can tell they really love each other…

The rest of the message continued on in a similar fashion for several pages detailing what his daughter had been up to for the past several weeks. , his sister was definitely thorough. It was like in her message she sought to leave nothing out, the writing was so clear he could picture every facet.

Of what he was missing out on.

He looked down at the letter missing his daughter he hadn't seen her in a few months and the last time he had seen her she had been taller, older. She was growing up.

She was growing up without him.

The pain he felt at that thought cut through him like a scalpel. He wondered was there a point where she wouldn't even think of him anymore, where he would be a distant figure that she saw every once in a while, but that really didn't have an impact on her. She still called him daddy and was always eager to see him. But at some point as she grew up would that change. Would she think he had abandoned her? Had he? He sent messages and even old-fashioned letters as often as he could, they video messaged whenever possible, and he visited her when he had time off but was that enough. He missed his daughter, but he was torn, as much as he disliked gallivanting across the galaxy, in what amounted to a scrap of metal and plastic, he knew that if he left Starfleet and went back to Earth, he would fall back into his old habits. And when he was on Earth he hadn't been there for Joanna anyway. He had been headed for a sure path to his own destruction.

It was probably better for Joanna to live with his sister and her husband, they would take care of her and give her a good life, she deserved a stable home, and she needed one. She didn't need the pain or trouble that would come from living with him if he went back to Earth. When he was back in his old environment, he was an alcoholic and not a particularly nice one. When he drank, he knew that his personality changed for the worse and Joanna had caught the brunt of it several times. One of the worst memories of when he had taken his anger out on Joanna came back to him

Someone one was shaking him; he opened his eyes, squinting at the light that poured into the room. He blinked several times willing the blurry image to coalesce into a recognizable form. He finally made out the shape of his daughter standing there, her hair tousled , a tattered stuffed dog clutched under one arm, her blue pyjamas rumpled, sucking on a finger. She looked at him as he opened his eyes, her face intent "bweakfast Daddy?" she said uncertainly. McCoy felt a flash of irritation at being awakened what time was it? He glanced at the screen on the wall 7 in the morning, why the hell did little kids wake up early?

"Bweakfast?, I'm hungry" she asked again,

"Fine let's go" he said not too kindly. Grumbling to himself, he pulled himself off the couch where he had passed out the night before, his head spun dizzily for a moment as he stood up, he had a headache that made him feel like his head was in a vise. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, as the dizziness passed he made his way to the kitchen, he could here Joanna's small unslippered feet following him. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed some eggs from the refrigerator he snatched a bowl off the counter and began scrambling them. Joanna had climbed up on a stool and was watching him. She sucked her finger for a moment, then said, "Mommy used a whisk." He glanced at Joanna and said irritably "Well, I'm not Mommy!" He turned around to open the refrigerator and gave a sharp cry, as he stepped his foot on something that sent an excruciating pain through his foot. He knelt down to pick it up; it was one of Joanna's toys. He swore loudly. "Are you okay daddy?" Joanna asked from behind him. The girl's voice irritated him further. He was thoroughly angry with being woken up this early and the whole situation.

He turned around furiously, his foot throbbing painful, his headache even worse if that was possible. "What the hell is wrong with you? He threw the bowl of eggs down, yellow spatters flying across the small kitchen to adorn the walls and surfaces. He reached across and snatched the toy dog from her, and threw it in the disposal. "you don't need any God damn toys if you can't take care of them" How many times have I told you to pick your sh— up?" He said throwing the toy he had picked up off the floor on the counter where it shattered into several pieces. Joanna looked at him her face startled, and then she started to cry. McCoy looked down at the little girl and the physical pain he felt receded and was replaced by a deeper kind as he looked at the little girl and thought , what have I done?

He moved toward her, to pick her up but she backed up, tears still streaming down her face, sobs rending the air. He stopped moving as she backed into a corner and came to an abrupt stop, she had nowhere else left to go. He looked at her; the little girl's face was afraid… afraid of him. "Please… Joanna I'm sorry" he knelt to her level, only half-an arm's length away."I'm not mad at you okay, I just hurt my foot and I got angry and yelled" That wasn't the entire truth his mind said he would have never acted like this if he was sober. He pushed the thought down."I shouldn't have yelled at you, I'm sorry" he waited there for a few moments looking at her, he wanted to move toward her, hold her pick her up, but he knew that if he did, she would bolt and he would frighten her more. And could you blame her, he had just acted like some drunk lunatic yelling at a little girl for basically no reason. She looked at him uncertain, fear still showing in her eyes, tears streaming down her face. He felt tears forming in his own eyes as he looked at his daughter. Hesitantly she came towards him, he reached and enfolded her in his arms, he buried her head in his shoulder, soaking his t-shirt with her tears. He stroked her hair and rubbed her back trying to soothe the little girl as he repeated over and over "I'm sorry Joanna, I'm sorry" He couldn't believe what he had done. He hated hearing her cry.

But he hated that he was the one who had made her cry more.

He clicked the message off as he remembered that time. The guilt he still felt over that incidence rose up in him, reminding him why he had given Joanna to his sister. He shut off the computer and stood up, his break was over. He walked out his office still angry with himself.

What was she doing? He looked at the nurse watching as she recalibrated the machine without shutting it down first. How many times had he told her about that? He moved toward her, angrily and began yelling at her. At the end of his tirade the nurse looked up, her face quite close to tears, the entire sick bay was staring at him, he turned his back on her and went to the new diagnostic module they had received yesterday and began calibrating it. He was not in a good mood.

XXXX XXXX

A few hours later Dr. McCoy was setting the new diagnostic module for the next patient when he heard the door hiss shut behind him. He turned around expecting to see the Edoan, that was his next patient and instead was surprised to see Chekov, standing there looking like he had been jumped on by a pack of dogs. Chekov had a black eye, numerous bruises on his face, a broken nose and a wrist that was obviously broken by the angle he was holding it at.

Dr. McCoy gasped at the sight of him and hurried around collecting medical supplies before coming to the head of the diagnostic bed which Chekov had sat on. The doctor ran a handheld diagnostic scanner over the young ensign while asking "what happened" Chekov who was normally happier (or at least acted like he was) than anybody on the ship, looked like he could kill somebody.

Chekov clenched his jaw tightly before replying "eet is nothing Doctor McCoy, I tripped and fell down a Jeffries tube" he paused for a moment then said as if he had repeated this or had it told to him a lot of times "I am wery clumsy". Doctor McCoy looked down at the results of his scan, and then back at Chekov doubtfully, the ensign was avoiding his gaze.

"Chekov you didn't get a broken nose, fractured wrist, broken ribs, and a black eye from falling down a Jeffries tube. For god sakes, Jeffries tubes have force field barriers" Dr. McCoy continued irritated "What really happened? And don't tell me next you tripped over your shoelaces"

Chekov stubbornly repeated "Doctor McCoy, I fell down a Jeffries tube, ze force field vas not active"

1 hour later McCoy watched Chekov leave sickbay and sighed. Chekov had spent the last hour denying that his injuries were anything short of an accident, indeed he had even given Doctor McCoy the exact location of the Jeffries tube that he had fell down, Dr. McCoy had called engineering and found that a technician was repairing the force field malfunction, but despite all the evidence, Doctor McCoy still didn't believe Chekov's story. His gut was telling him that something wasn't right. It wasn't just the injuries that gave Dr. McCoy pause; it was the total appearance of the ensign. Chekov, looked like had had been run through a wringer, he had dark circles under his eyes, that hinted at little sleep, and the rumour mill had been that the ensign had been unusually touchy even for an adolescent male. After finding no visceral trauma and running a diagnostic on the ensign (using his new model) he had and had cleared him to leave.

McCoy had briefly considered calling security to find out what had happened, but what was he going to say? That he thought Chekov was lying even though every bit of his story checked out and it was unlikely that any crew members would admit to having a fight anyway. Even if he did find out there had been an altercation Chekov and the other guilty parties would have that entered on their official records. Dr. McCoy shook his head, it probably wouldn't do to get involved in this case, and it was probably over a girl or something anyway.

Later after McCoy had finished the crew physicals he had scheduled for that day he examined the in depth images that he had taken that day using his new module. He was still amazed at the way the new module allowed previous injuries from many years past to show as clear as day. McCoy scrolled through the images, stopping to take notes if he noticed an abnormality. He was nearly finished when, he stopped at one crew members full body image, there were injuries noted everywhere. McCoy sat up straighter and rubbed his eyes. How had he missed this? He glanced at the top of the screen, and noted with shock that the name was Pavel Andreivich Chekov.

How did Chekov have this much damage? McCoy noted that the newest injury appeared to be about five years ago, but the ensign had injuries ranging from the time he was two and up. He called up a copy of the ensign's previous scans, some of the injuries had shown up in previous scans, and Dr. McCoy remembered that Chekov had been in an air skimmer accident when he was 8. Dr. McCoy had seen the marks still on his body from that accident, which the physicians in Russia hadn't been able to heal without scarring, but some of these injuries didn't appear in any of the previous scans. The doctor briefly considered that perhaps the new module was malfunctioning, but how was that possible? As far as he could tell the other crew member's scans had been correct. Dr. McCoy stood up and hurried out his office to the diagnostic module and began running a diagnostic on the machine, but all the systems checks came back in perfect working order. Dr. McCoy stood back and looked at it with a distasteful eye, this was what he got, as soon as he started liking the smallest piece of technology it stabbed you in the back.

Dr. McCoy considered asking Spock or somebody else to check out the machine , but something in his gut told him that the image he had seen was real, which could only mean one thing Pavel Chekov had some sort of disease. And judging from the ensign's haggard appearance he looked like he was having a relapse. Dr. McCoy could think of half a dozen that left your bones that messed up, (Chekov had at least 10 different fractures a lot of them either before or after before the air skimmer accident.)

McCoy sat back in his chair bleary eyed from running over Chekov's medical record surprisingly there was very little of it, he seemed extremely healthy on paper, but now having read it over several times it made very little sense, according to his medical records almost every year he had suffered several injuries mostly fractures , but also lacerations. McCoy remembered Chekov's earlier comment about how he was clumsy; perhaps the ensign had suffered an undiagnosed neuromuscular disease and was now suffering a relapse. McCoy wondered why the doctor's at the academy hadn't picked up that something was wrong. Then McCoy snorted at his own foolishness, that showed how tired he was, the doctors at the academy were mediocre at best, many incompetent at worst. Well, he mentally amended the thought, they could fix injuries, run tests, but most of them didn't have what a doctor really needed: intuition. And Dr. McCoy's intuition was telling him that something was definitely wrong.

To really understand the background for this chapter you have to read New Beginning (Decision Points [part 1]) and Worst Memories (Dr. McCoy's chapter). anyway I hope you like it, read and Review!

p.s. this isn't the Chekov you thought you knew, the seemingly nice exterior hides a dark side and a dark past.