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5 Times Chekov had to Use His Knives (and 1 Time He Didn't)

Chapter 6: Andrei Chekov

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The first big clue that something was wrong was when Chekov called in sick.

Leonard scowled a the navigator's chair, which was occupied by someone who was definitely not a petit teenage Russian. "What do you mean he's sick?" he snapped at Jim. "That kid could have both arms missing and a broken leg and he'd still show up to work."

"I don't know," Jim confessed. "Uhura couldn't get anything out of him, either. Would you mind...?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it," Leonard grumbled, walking off the bridge. He grabbed his medkit from Medical, considered prepping a surgery team but decided against it, and went to Chekov's room.

"Kid?" Leonard asked, knocking on the door. "You alive in there?"

"Da," came the small answer.

"Wanna open up?"

There was a pause, then the door slid open.

The Styrofoam dummy was the first thing Leonard saw when he walked in. Half a dozen throwing knives were in its skull. A Vulcan dagger was in its neck. Its chest had been shredded and there was a two-inch camping knife in its lung. A bowie knife stuck out of its sternum. Even the goddamn Swiss army knife was shoved up its nose.

That was big clue #2.

Chekov was sitting at his desk, reading a PADD, looking cool as a cucumber. If it weren't for the throwing knife he was twirling around his fingers, Leonard would think there was absolutely nothing wrong.

"What'd the dummy do to you?" Leonard asked, hoping to take some of the edge off. Chekov just shrugged, not looking up from the PADD.

Leonard sighed and set his med kit on the coffee table in front of the couch. He didn't need it. Even though Chekov hadn't changed out of his sleepwear and his hair was a mess, he obviously wasn't physically ill. No flush in his cheeks, no shivers, no sniffling nose, nothing.

So because Leonard was never one to beat around the bush, he asked, "What's going on, kid?"

Chekov finally looked up. He gave Leonard a blank look before handing him the PADD.

Leonard took it and started reading. It was from the Butyrka Correctional Facility. We wish to inform you that Andrei Chekov will be released on Stardate 2702.4 on probation...

Leonard didn't get any further. He dropped the PADD onto the desk and swore. "I thought he had a twelve-year sentence!"

"Good behawior," Chekov said, staring off into space. There was no inflection in his voice. No emotion. They might as well have been talking about the weather.

Leonard rubbed his eyes. He needed a drink. "How does probation in Russia work?"

The knife whipped around and between Chekov's fingers, so fast that it was a wonder he hadn't lost any digits. "He vill not be allowed to leawe the district, carry a phaser or projectile veapon, or make international purchases for six years after his release date, so six years, two veeks, and three days. He vill hawe to go to veekly appointments vith a probation officer. Should he break any of these or commit any other crimes, ewen just a minor offense, he'll be returned to prison."

Leonard nodded. "Okay, then." He pulled up a chair and sat a couple feet away from Chekov. "Are you still afraid of him?"

Chekov paused, the knife suspended between his middle and index fingers. He flipped it so he was gripping the handle and crossed his arms on the table. "I shouldn't be."

"Why not?"

Chekov gave a hollow laugh. "Nero, Khan, Marcus, all of the alien attacks ve've had and the avay missions that go bad...how does Andrei ewen raise a candle to that?"

Leonard gave a grim smile. "Well, when you're facing nasty shit like that out here, you have the support of the crew behind you. You're facing it as an adult who's trained to deal with crisis situations and with eight different knives shoved up your sleeves. But when it was Andrei, you were dealing with him alone, and as a kid. That's going to leave a mark."

Chekov didn't say anything for a long moment. Then, "I thought anyone vho vas under 34 vas a kid."

Leonard snorted. "I was using legal jargon there, kid." When he was (pretty) sure that he wouldn't get stabbed, he reached out and put his hand on Chekov's arm. Chekov leaned into the touch. Leonard squeezed his arm. "You're not alone anymore, and you've got the whole crew behind you. That shit you grew up with is not going to happen again. Got it?"

Chekov nodded.

--

For a while, it was okay. The rest of the bridge crew found out, one by one. Leonard thought it was best that Chekov tell them on his own terms. Uhura learned it after a poker night when she privately asked Chekov what was wrong, and probably Gaila, too, since she and Chekov were thick as thieves. Sulu got it most likely during a sparring session, which half of the crew watched as their form of evening entertainment because Chekov could actually beat the fencing master from time to time. Spock, Leonard assumed, was told in the middle of one of their science-talks where the doctor only understood every other word. And somewhere in the middle of that, Jim was told and spent that evening in Leonard's room, drinking scotch and trying to find a legal way to shove Andrei back in prison for another twenty years, and was even more pissed when he couldn't.

But nothing actually changed. There was still weekly poker nights where Gaila flirted and Chekov stole all of Leonard's money; genius or not, Leonard swore he had to cheat at least once a game. There were still bad jokes fired by Jim that made Chekov giggle and Uhura roll her eyes. There were still long science tangents explained in an excited Russian voice that only Spock and sometimes Scotty understood completely. There were still away missions that turned to shit storms and Leonard had to patch everyone up, then yell at them when they swore that "no, really, doctor, I'm fine, I can work with a broken leg."

Joanna called him every week for at least an hour, and she called "Checkers" every other week, and Leonard fretted about it because he was pretty sure that his baby girl had a crush on Chekov. Leonard had to be talked out of giving the boy the shovel talk by Jim, Uhura, and Gaila who assured him that, no, Chekov was not interested in Joanna and probably didn't even think she was interested in him, that they were six years apart anyway, and even if they were interested it's not like they could do anything about it for the next three years due to one of them being on Earth and the other in deep space, and if they did end up together after the mission then "Who's going to be better for her than Pavel? He's smart, he's respectful, he saved her damn life...Seriously, Bones, he's fucking ideal," at which point Leonard said that his baby girl wasn't dating anyone on Enterprise because everyone on Enterprise was a goddamn idiot with no self-preservation skills, to which Jim said...

Anyway, point being: life went on.

Then Fate, the cruel bitch, dropped the second bombshell.

--

Jim glared at the PADD in his hands. "What the hell do they mean he's AWOL?"

They were in his quarters. Jim was at his desk. Chekov was sitting on the sofa, running his thumb over the blade of his dagger. Sulu was standing near the door like a sentinel. Jim wasn't sure if he'd dragged Chekov here to report this and/or was just here for emotional support, but he appreciated it.

"He hasn't checked in vith his probation officer in two veeks," Chekov said levelly. "He hasn't been at vork or been seen at his house in the same amount of time. His credit hasn't been used, so he's paying vith an unknown account that they can't track."

"He can't get a passport," Jim said. "He had to give it up, didn't he?"

"I managed to illegally get a passport vhen I vas twelwe," Chekov pointed out.

"Point." Jim dropped the PADD on his desk and sighed. "Well...shit."

"How public are Enterprise's missions?" Sulu asked.

"Very. The details are usually blurry, especially if it's a sensitive mission. But anyone can figure out where any Federation flagship is with a little bit of digging," Jim said, and he hated to say it because he knew exactly what picture they were painting. There was only one reason why Andrei Chekov would break probation, and it was sitting on Jim's sofa.

"No one can get on the ship vithout being a member of Starfleet or officially being inwited by senior staff," Chekov said. "The possible exception vould be during a re-stock, vhen vorkers reload the supply decks. But he vouldn't necessarily hawe to get on the ship, because I'm not on the ship tventy-four/sewen. Ve stop at planets and starbases that don't hawe nearly the restrictions Starfleet does. He could go to any one of them."

Jim nodded. "Right, okay. Then we'll need to tell whatever security is at hand what to look for when we touch down."

Chekov didn't look happy, but he didn't protest.

Jim hesitated, then added, "We'll need to give this to Lt. Giotto, since he's the head of security."

Chekov sighed. "I know."

"Would you prefer to do it yourself?"

He shook his head. "Nyet. This is ship's business."

"Okay, then." Jim stood. "Thanks for telling me. We'll take care of this."

A ghost of a smile reached Chekov's face. "I know you vill."

--

Giotto looked somewhere between sick and furious when Jim briefed him on the situation. It turned into a vicious smile when he read Andrei Chekov's description and his, ah, unique scar tissue. It was a pretty standard reaction.

"Well, I can coordinate with security whenever we touch down, tell them there's a wanted felon running around," Giotto said. "But honestly, sir, there's not much that we can do that Pavel doesn't already do himself."

"I want you to make it as hard as humanely possible for this asshole to get within a hundred meters of Chekov," Jim said.

Giotto thought for a minute. "He's only an ensign. I can probably loan my rank to him, get him access to certain areas that a civilian wouldn't even dream of going into."

"Perfect. Do it."

--

Chekov went to Spock every other night, the nightmares were so bad.

Spock didn't mind. He had actually been surprised that this outcome hadn't happened when Andrei had been released. He supposed that knowing for a fact where the man was and what he was doing made for much easier nights than not knowing at all.

He found that if Chekov knew that Spock would be staying for a while, he slept deeper and longer. Spock himself was more relaxed and at ease when the ensign was in sight, given recent events. So he brought his work with him whenever Chekov asked for help, and stayed in the room until he woke up. It was only logical.

--

Hikaru may or may not have started taking his sword with him everywhere he went.

He knew for a fact that Pavel didn't go anywhere unless he was fully armed these days. That meant all six kunai knives, the dagger, the bowie, the two-incher, and the Swiss, all of them hidden up sleeves and in pockets. So it probably wouldn't come as much of a surprise to anyone if they found out someone else did it, too.

And it's not like it was a big deal. The thing was collapsible and fit in his pocket, so it wasn't as if he was running around the ship swinging a katana around at anyone who looked at him funny. It was just nice knowing that it was there.

So he may or may not have started carrying it. Everywhere. All the time. Maybe. But that's classified.

--

The first time they stopped at a starbase, everyone was tense. Pavel stayed in as many restricted areas that Giotto was able to get him into for as long as possible, and when he wasn't there he was always with somebody, either Gaila or one of the bridge crew, and always out in public.

Nothing happened the first time. Or the second.

But they say the third time's the charm.

--

Leonard yawned into his fist while he finished doing inventory. The starbase they were on was low on doctors, so Leonard had found himself picking up a couple of shifts when he should have been relaxing and enjoying his time off. (See? He knew Jim was contagious.)

He was alone in the guest office, finishing up the paperwork. There were a couple of nurses tending to the overnight patients and another doctor outside. They were mere shadows in the dim light.

Leonard checked the time. Jim would be here in a few minutes to pick him up and take the crew out for dinner. Chekov's twentieth birthday had been a few weeks ago and Uhura's twenty-eighth was next week, so they were going out to celebrate both before Enterprise left tomorrow afternoon. And of course Jim had chosen a place that had an open mic because he was still trying to get Chekov to sing in public and convince him that he was, in fact, really good at it. Chekov still denied the last part and had turned the first part into something of a game, which was a bad idea because if there was one thing Jim couldn't resist it was a challenge...

A knock on the door pulled Leonard from his thoughts. He stretched his shoulders. "Yeah, come in."

The broad-shouldered, six-foot-tall Russian was definitely not Jim.

Completely awake now, Leonard was immediately on high alert. He'd seen pictures of Andrei Chekov before, and there were the last tendrils of Pavel's memories still in his head as a parting gift from Sagacita, so he knew what the man looked like. And the scar that stretched from the right of his mouth almost to his ear, making him look like he was always half-smiling, was unmistakable. It was almost red against his pale skin.

"Get out before I call security," Leonard ordered.

Andrei help up his hands. "Please, doctor," he said, and boy, Leonard thought Pavel's accent was thick; he could barely understand a word from this man. "I just want to find my son."

"You're not going to. Out."

Andrei sighed, and sat on the chair across from Leonard. "I need to apologize to him. I haven't seen my son in seven years. I just want to see him and tell him I'm sorry."

"Then why didn't you contact him before breaking probation?"

"I don't have his contact information."

"Bullshit."

"I don't," he insisted. "I don't have his email or com number or..."

"So instead of asking Starfleet for any of this information, you decide to break your parole and hunt him down across the galaxy?" Leonard said, unimpressed. "Or did Starfleet refuse to give you that info because of your history?" He wouldn't be surprised if Pike had expressly put this guy on the no-call list. The Admiral had been almost as protective of Pavel as the Enterprise crew was now.

Andrei shrugged. "One does crazy things for family. You understand, Dr. McCoy, you have a child. A lovely daughter, I heard."

Oh, he did not just say that...

"I simply wish to make things right between me and my son," Andrei continued. "I need to apologize for what I did to Vadim."

Leonard paused, and leaned forward a little. "For what you did to Vadim?"

Andrei nodded. "It was unforgivable, I know, but I need to at least try to make amends."

"Oh, I agree," Leonard said, standing. "What you did to Vadim is unforgivable. But even more unforgivable is what you did to Pavel."

Andrei shrugged again. "I may not have been the best father, I admit, but it's in the past now. He's a grown man."

"That is a sorry excuse for the twelve times he had to get treated for broken ribs," Leonard growled, coming around the desk. "Or the four times he got treated for a dislocated shoulder. Three times for a broken leg. Twice for a cracked skull. Three times for a broken collarbone. Two broken fingers. Severe third-degree burns on his hand. Fourteen concussions. And those are the only times that got recorded. Sprained wrists and ankles don't need doctors to treat, and neither do bruises or black eyes. And don't try to tell me that he fell out of a tree or ran into a door or whatever garbage they believed in your village, that shit's not gonna fly here." Leonard leaned over so their faces were inches apart. "You are not going anywhere near that boy until you are six feet under. Now get. Out."

Andrei did not get out.

Andrei surged forward, grabbed Leonard by the shirt, and slammed him against the wall. All the breath left Leonard's lungs in a whoosh.

"You do not get to judge me," Andrei spat. "You think you're better than me?! Why? Because you have a piece of paper to hang in your office and fly around in a glorified boat. And I'm the bad guy, because I drink and try to raise my son with a firm hand?"

"Speaking as a father: hell yes," Leonard snapped.

Andrei pulled him forward and slammed him back against the wall. Leonard's brain rattled around in his skull. He was going to get a concussion out of this.

"I won't hesitate to kill you," Andrei threatened. "I owned a butcher shop for decades, I know how to cut meat. You tell me where my son is or I will gut you."

Leonard glared at him, keeping his mouth shut. He wanted to gag, because Andrei was sweating all over him and his breath smelled like piss and...

Wait, what?

Leonard took a second look. He grinned, and started laughing.

Andrei shook him. "What the fuck is so funny?"

"Your kidneys are failing," Leonard chuckled. "Your breath smells like urine, you're pale, your eyes are puffy, and you're tiring easily. Wouldn't be surprised if you had muscle cramps in your legs, no appetite, and regular bouts of nausea. One or both or your kidneys are calling it quits. Considering the alcoholism, it's probably part of a bigger problem. How's your liver doing?"

When Andrei didn't say anything, Leonard continued: "That's what this is about, isn't it? Pavel's allergic to modern kidney transplants, and so are you, so you've gotta do it old-school. You don't have any other next of kin, or if you do they're not a match. You could wait for a random donor, but that's an awful long list. Pavel's your best chance. You don't want to make amends. You want to put off kicking the bucket and going to hell."

Andrei met Leonard's grin with a glare, then punched him.

And shit, that hurt. Leonard had been in his fair share of bar fights, but this man packed a punch. He found himself on the floor, blood and drool leaking out of his mouth.

There was a crunch and a burst of pain as his ribs met the wrong end of Andrei's boot. Leonard coughed and curled up, trying to protect his head and chest. Andrei hauled him to his feet and punched him in the gut.

With the blood roaring in Leonard's ears, he didn't hear the door open.

"BONES!"

Andrei was yanked off of Leonard and he slumped to the floor. He could hear a fight going on, but his head was fuzzy and it took a minute for his eyes to work right. When they did, he saw Jim and Andrei destroy his guest office in their brawl.

Leonard slid over to the inventory shelves and dug through hypos until he found a sedative. He pulled himself to his feet as Andrei managed to get Jim against the wall and wrap his hands around his throat.

Leonard jabbed the sedative in Andrei neck. He grunted, and then dropped to the floor.

--

Pavel was the last to arrive at the detention center. He'd been on the other side of the starbase with Uhura.

Jim and Bones had stayed in Medical just long enough to tape up the broken bones and wipe the blood off before following Giotto and the starbase security, who were hauling off Andrei just as he'd started coming around. Jim had called Sulu and Spock while he was at it to cancel their dinner plans and wasn't at all surprised to find them already at the detention center when he and Bones arrived.

Andrei had his hands cuffed to the table in an interrogation room. The south wall of the room was entirely two-way glass. Sulu was glaring at Andrei through the window while Jim and Bones gave their statements. Pavel and Uhura showed up soon after.

When Pavel saw the black eye on Bones and the bruises around Jim's neck, he shut down. All emotions were wiped clean from his face.

"Your old man hits like a freight train," Bones grumbled. "How the hell are you not brain-damaged?"

Pavel gave a tight smile. "As you'we said many times, doctor, I hawe a thick skull."

"Yeah, now I know why."

Jim jabbed him in the (unbroken) ribs. Bones gave him an annoyed glare.

Pavel opened his mouth, but Bones beat him to it: "The next words out of your mouth had better not be an apology."

Pavel closed his mouth.

"Told you you didn't need to apologize," Uhura said.

Giotto came into the room and cleared his throat. "Well sirs, ma'am, they'll be shipping him back to Russia tomorrow."

"He's gonna be charged, right?" Jim asked, because if this asshole got away...

"Oh, absolutely. Parole violation and assault of two Starfleet officers, not to mention the fraud and bribery he did to get here. He'll be out for at least ten years, unless you want to offer a deal."

"No deal," Bones growled.

Jim knew that wasn't because of the beating. He'd overheard Bones giving his statement; if you threatened Joanna, not matter how vaguely, all bets were off. Jim nodded his approval. "No deal."

"Yessir." Giotto hesitated, then turned to Pavel. "He's asking to see you."

Everyone looked at Pavel. Pavel looked at Andrei, his face still blank.

Sulu spoke up: "You don't have to--"

Uhura cut him off by raising her hand. Jim breathed a quiet sigh of relief. If she was telling him to shut up, it meant Pavel already knew he had control. He didn't have to do anything, and he knew it.

Jim wasn't as surprised as Sulu appeared to be when Pavel walked up to the glass and went into the room.

All of the officers immediately went to the glass. Jim didn't have it in him to feel guilty or stupid for eavesdropping, mostly because Spock was also doing it. Normally, he would gloat or tease him for it, but not today.

Pavel stood just inside the door as it closed behind him. His hands were behind his back, at parade rest.

He and Andrei stared at each other.

Jim liked to think Andrei was shocked, even if his face was as perfectly blank as his son's. Pavel wasn't twelve anymore. He was twenty. He was still short and slim, but held himself tall and proud without an ounce of fear. The command gold Starfleet uniform also helped.

"Your doctor fights like a bitch," Andrei finally said. He was speaking Russian, but the universal translator was on.

Pavel didn't say anything.

"I suppose they'll send me back to prison now," Andrei sighed. "There are some really shitty doctors in there. I guess they've already told you my kidneys are failing."

Jim winced. They hadn't told him, and that was really stupid.

But Pavel still didn't react.

"Doctors say if I don't get a new one in the next couple of months, I'll be dead," Andrei said flatly. "That's why I came here. I came to ask you for help."

Pavel didn't say anything.

Andrei glared at him. "Are you listening to me? I just told you I'm dying!"

Pavel didn't say anything.

"Is that what this is, then? Hm? You want your father to die? Are you that kind of a man?"

Jim held his breath as Pavel finally moved.

He walked around the table until he was directly in front of Andrei. He reached out with two fingers and used them to turn Andrei's face to the side. Clearly confused, Andrei allowed the movement. Pavel ran his fingers along the scar on his face.

"I hope this still hurts."

Andrei's face twisted in rage at Pavel's words. He tried to lunge, but the cuffs that kept his hands to the table held firm. It didn't matter. Pavel was already out of reach. He didn't look back as he walked out.

--

The officers caught up with Pavel outside the building. His hands were behind his head as he breathed.

"Pavel?" Sulu asked hesitantly.

Pavel paused, then he lowered his hands and put them in his pockets. He turned and smiled at them. "Do ve still vant to go to dinner, or call it day?"

The entire group relaxed. Jim grinned as he put his arm around Pavel's shoulders and tugged him away from the detention center. "I know a place that offers twenty percent off if you participate in open mic."

"Then maybe you should sing the Federation theme song," Pavel said.

"Oh, God, don't encourage him," Bones grumbled.

"No, please do," Uhura said. "I day without Kirk humiliating himself is a day without sunshine."

They walked away from the detention center and didn't look back.

 

END

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