I'm still really sorry about last chapter, you guys. I know it was a hard thing for all of us to read - it was difficult for me to write, as well. Still, I thank you for all the reviews, favourites and follows. Don't worry, the story won't be quite so depressing from this point on - I think. Chekov has a long way to go.

Ugh, I just want to wrap him in a blanket and apologize endlessly for all this pain I'm putting him through.

Also, fear not - it won't be the last time that we see Kirk, Bones, Spock or Uhura.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


{February, 2264}

Chekov wakes to someone violently shaking him, and reacts the only way he knows how these days – by punching them as hard as he can. There's a shocked and yelp and a thud on the floor, followed by an angry stream of cursing.

"Ow! What the bloody hell, lad!" A familiar Scottish accent drifts up from the wooden floor, and Chekov comes to his senses at once. Montgomery Scott sits up and indignantly glares at him. "I was just trying to wake ye; nightmares and all that."

"Sorry," Chekov mutters, rubbing the back of his head. "What were they this time?"

Scotty regards him with a sympathetic look. "You were screaming for McCoy and something about a transporter."

"Right." Chekov's tone is short as he swings his legs out of bed. He heads for the fridge in the corner, where he finds a glass of milk already on the top shelf. It's for him; Scotty doesn't drink milk but he knows how it calms Chekov down, so he's taken to leaving a glass there every night. "Thanks," he mumbles, feeling bad for having assaulted Scotty. "Sorry for hitting you so hard."

"Ah, don't feel bad, lad. Bad nightmares often have that effect on people." Scotty rolls off the floor.

"Are you sure you have to leave tomorrow?" Chekov asks, thinking about how quiet the apartment will be without Scotty's bad jokes. After all, Scotty is the only one left who understands why Chekov regularly wakes screaming about Bones, Kirk, Spock, Uhura, Sulu. Scotty is the only one left apart from him who lies awake thinking about all the friends he's lost.

A smile quirks the corner of Scotty's mouth. "Yeah. You know me – never like staying put for long." The smile slides off when he sees Chekov staring into his glass. "You gonna be okay without me?"

Chekov takes a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."

Scotty approaches him cautiously, the way he would an injured animal. Hopping up on the bar counter, he says, "Maybe you should move, Pavel."

"And go where?" Chekov snorts. "I can't go back to Russia, not again."

"You can't stay here, either. It's not good for you."

"There's nowhere else." Chekov downs the glass. "No one else."

"You can come with me," Scotty offers. "Now that Keenser's gone off on the Serenity-"

"No, it's fine," Chekov says, and the tone of his voice tells Scotty that it's not up for discussion anymore. He's been here for four months; he knows the tells of Chekov's body language. The kid is an open book, easy to read.

"Alright, then." He lets the subject matter drop, knowing that Chekov won't budge from his position. "I'll see you in the morning."

The lights are barely off before Chekov speaks again from his bed. "Scotty?"

"Hmm?" he yawns.

"Do you ever have nightmares?"

Scotty sits up on the sofa. From the pale light filtering in through the blinds of Chekov's window, he can see the kid sitting up against his wall, knees pulled up against his chest. "Course I do."

"What are they about?"

"Ah, engineering failures usually. Or being stuck on that God-forsaken planet still. Sometimes I dream about that damn beagle." Scotty adjusts his pillow. "Did you know that it showed up in the exact same spot a year and a half later?"

Chekov snorts, but doesn't say anything for a long time. "I wish my dreams were that harmless," he says at last.

Scotty almost wants to ruffle his hair, tell him it's all going to be okay. He knows that his fellow crew mates would have had no reservations; Kirk would have been all over Chekov, messing with him like a little brother. Uhura certainly would never have had a problem with mothering Chekov. But Uhura and Kirk are not here, and Scotty is. This is something he doesn't like to think about.

"They'll pass, kiddo," he says at last, hoping that he doesn't sound too trite. "You just gotta give it time."

"It's been six months," Chekov says, his voice muffled into his arms.

"Yeah, well, I hear it takes years."

He knows instantly how unhelpful that comment is; he can almost see Chekov's shoulders snap up into a rigid line from his position on the sofa. "Yeah, I guess you're right," Chekov says flatly. "Goodnight, Scotty."

"Pavel, that's not what I meant-"

"It's fine," Chekov interrupts. If Scotty had to describe it, he would have coloured Chekov's tone with hues of black and blues; remnants of emotional scars and bruises that haven't healed. He kicks himself mentally for screwing this up.

Damn Sulu for saddling him with a teenager in a man's body.

Scotty's mind turns to Sulu as Chekov's breaths slow into the rhythmic lull of sleep. He wonders how Sulu is doing, faring in that great big galaxy out there without any of his former crew to back him up. He'd offered, of course, back when Sulu had come to see him, but Sulu had turned him down – "Somebody needs to watch Chekov," the new captain had said, tiredly running a hand through his hair. "He won't be doing well."

"Shouldn't you be doing it, then?" Scotty asked.

"He can't look at me properly," Sulu answered. "I remind him too much of that day down on Dolal. If it's anyone, Scotty, it's you."

"What? Why?"

"Why? Because, Scotty. You were part of the original crew – Chekov knows you know what it's like for him to lose everyone." Scotty remembers the look of crumpled defeat on Sulu's face. He remembers wondering: He still has you, doesn't he? "And you weren't there on Dolal when everything happened. He needs time and he needs a friend. You can give him both."

"I don't know," Scotty had said doubtfully.

"C'mon, Scotty. Do it for me." Sulu cracked a smile. "Besides, you owe me for that one time on E'vayzen-"

"Alright! Alright. I'll do it. But you owe me-"

"We'll call it even."

That was six months ago, and he hasn't heard from Sulu since. He knows that this is to be expected; on missions, it's normal for crew members to simply not make the long-distance call home. He just wishes that Sulu had at least called once just to make sure Chekov was okay.

Well, Scotty decides, turning on his side, there was only so much ruminating to do in the early hours of the morning. He wonders briefly how Keenser is doing on the new ship, and that train of thought leads him to wondering where he's going to travel to next. Maybe Arizona. He thinks about how it's supposed to be nice this time of year… and before he knows it, he's asleep.

But Chekov wakes from a light doze and continues to stare at the ceiling until the sun comes up.