Poor Chekov. After rereading my fic, I want to just take him and hug him tight.
Thanks to all who reviewed, followed and favourited - I've been trying to get back to the reviewers personally if you have an account! Sorry if I missed anyone though; a lot's going on right now.
Marcelle Dupont: ding ding ding! Yeah, it kind of drifted into my head haha. David, however, will not be showing up personally in the story. You'll kind of find out what happens to him later. But kudos for being so observant ;) And yes, things are DEFINITELY going to get interesting in the next few chapters.
Onwards and upwards, my friends! We are halfway there! Chekov might not be, though.
Disclaimer: But Moooooom~
"You were supposed to watch him." Chekov wakes to Sulu's hissing.
"I did. How was I supposed to know that he would catch Mandimese flu?" Scotty's accent is even more pronounced, which inevitably means that the Scotsman is stressed beyond his limits.
"Is that what this is?" a female voice asks, and Chekov recognizes Cynthia's voice through the haze.
"Yeah, unfortunately." Chekov can almost hear the frown in Sulu's voice. "Pavel is particularly vulnerable to it – the last time he got it on the Enterprise, it took him out of commission for a month and a half."
"It's not fatal, is it?" Cynthia asks in alarm.
"Fatal? No. He's just gonna be really sickly the next few weeks." There's a rustling. "Here. Antibiotics. I got them from the doctor."
"Is it really contagious?"
"Not really – most of us are immune to Mandimese flu. It's just something in his genes; he gets hit worse than most." There's a thud as someone drops the bottle on the ground. "Damn it."
"He'll be fine, Cynthia. Maybe you should go home," Scotty murmurs.
"I don't know – I feel a little responsible-"
"Unless you straight up injected him with a strain of Mandimese flu, I don't think you are," Sulu says dryly.
"You should have seen him – I've never seen him so agitated. We were talking about the accident."
The room stills, as though all the air has been sucked out of it. Finally, Scotty breaks the silence. "The Enterprise? Chekov actually wanted to talk about that?"
"He found out that my brother worked in Starfleet – one thing led to one another." Muffled footsteps make their way to the kitchen. "Bloody hell, Scotty, you didn't tell me that David was on the Enterprise."
"Oy, how is this my fault! I've never met your brother-"
"Keep your voice down," Sulu hisses just as Chekov sinks back down into sleep.
The next time he wakes, Sulu and Scotty are engaged in a heated whispered conversation over the counter. "You can't just not go to work," Scotty is whispering.
"I don't care. They can fire me if they want-"
"They will if you don't show up to your job, lad!"
"I don't care. I never wanted to be an accountant anyway; that's what my dad always wanted."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because he needed me, why else?"
A feeling of regret coils in Chekov's stomach – apparently, I'm not the only one keeping secrets. The thought makes him moan slightly.
"Why, I think the patient's awake," Scotty says too brightly. "Good morning, Pavel! Rise and shine."
"You're a terrible medic," Sulu says flatly.
"That's why Bones never let him in the med bay," Chekov mumbles. "Can I get some water?"
"Yeah. Here." Sulu shoves a cup at him. "How are you feeling?"
"Like an elephant stepped all over me." Chekov finds just enough strength to turn his head. Scotty is lounging against the counter and Sulu has taken the seat next to him. "How long have I been out?"
"About a day, which is better than the last time you got Mandimese flu." Scotty makes a face. "Och, I remember when Spock made that poor cadet mop up the vomit-"
"Speaking of vomit," Sulu says dryly as Chekov retches. He hands Chekov a pail just in time for Chekov to lean over and throw up. "Here – your medicine-"
"Somebody kill me," Chekov groans.
"I don't particularly fancy being convicted of murder," Scotty quips. "You'll be fine in a few weeks anyway."
Chekov groans again.
"We've called your boss," Sulu informs Chekov. "She says that she understands and hopes that you get better soon."
"Well – at least that's what we think she said over all the screaming," Scotty adds.
"Get out, you're not helping," Sulu sighs.
Scotty rolls his eyes, pushing himself away from the counter. "Fine. I'm going to go to the store – do you want anything, Pavel?"
"A new immune system," Chekov mumbles, his voice muffled by the blanket pulled over his head.
"Aw, I think they're fresh out of that," Scotty deadpans. "Hikaru? Anything?"
"I think we're out of juice."
"You got it." There's a sound of the door opening and then closing.
"Go to sleep," Sulu tells Chekov. "I'll be here."
"I've slept for a day, I can't sleep anymore," Chekov says from under the woolen blanket.
"When that medication kicks in," Sulu says, "you'll sleep like the dead. Give it a few minutes."
Chekov pulls the blankets off his head to see Sulu sitting on the couch, cradling his screen in his hands. "Can I ask you a question?" he asks.
"You just did, but sure."
"What's on that screen?"
Sulu looks down at it. "Photos?" he says, though it's framed more as a question.
"Yeah, but there are-" Chekov yawns widely. "-videos. What's on the videos?"
"Your birthday videos, I think." Sulu pulls up the folders. "Want to watch them?"
"No," Chekov mumbles, feeling drowsiness start to creep up on him.
"Some other time then, maybe." Sulu puts the screen down and picks up a book instead.
"Hikaru?"
"Hmm?"
"You don't have to stay here," Chekov says, yawning again.
"If I left you alone, you'd probably get worse," Sulu says flatly.
"No, I don't mean-" Chekov tries to stifle one more yawn as his eyes begin to drift shut again. "I don't mean now. I mean, if you want to go back to being a pilot, you should."
"What, like go back to Starfleet?"
But there's no answer. Chekov is already snoring lightly.
So that's all it is! Flu! What a relief! Nothing too major!
Or is it?
Much love,
ohlookrandom
