tampered | Beware the Ides of March

When Lucy got the call from the hospital that Chekov was there, panicked was not the right word for what she was. She'd been in the process of getting ready for work, but wasn't quite dressed so when she showed up it was in a pair of sweatpants with something vague innuendo written on her ass in glitter. She'd grabbed the first pair of shoes she'd found. They happened to be a pair of high heels that didn't go with the sweats at all. Sometime during her literal dash over here, she'd scraped her hair back in a messy ponytail. By the time she gets to the lobby she is in full panic mode.

"I got a call about Pavel." It only occurs to her a moment later that the hospital staff might need more than that. "Chekov. Pavel Chekov. I think that's his whole name I can't--he's got curly hair--" The nurse on staff stops her in the middle of her description and directs her to Chekov's room.

He doesn't look good.

There's a clattering of heels as Lucy stutter steps over to the bed. "Pavel!"

Lucy doesn't receive any response aside from the hum of machinery. Chekov looks pale--paler than usual--and drawn and rather small on the hospital bed. There are no visible injuries. Most of the damage is internal.

She's just going to pull a chair up and sit next to the bed. Once she's situated, she reaches out to take his hand in hers, threading her fingers with his limp ones. She'll be there that way when others show up, heel kicked off under the bed and feet pulled up in the chair. Normally she'd crawl up in bed with him, but he looks far too pale for that.

Uhura steps inside the room quietly. The hospital staff have already alerted her that Lucy is there, and as worried as she is about Chekov, she doesn't want to disturb the pair.

Her heart stops in her chest when she sees just how bad the young Russian looks. "Oh Pavel..."

Lucy looks up when Uhura says something. She stands up, untangling her fingers from Pavel's limp ones to walk over to Uhura.

"He hasn't responded at all since I got here."

[Uhura immediately pulls Lucy into a hug, more to comfort herself than to comfort the other woman.]

Have the doctors told you anything about his condition?

[Lucy is all too happy to be hugged. She hugs back tightly. It doesn't matter that she really doesn't know Uhura.]

No. Just that...it's serious, I guess.

[Uhura doesn't let go of Lucy, but manuvers so they're both sitting.]

How did this happen?

[Lucy is happy to sit, leaning against Uhura, one arm still threaded around her. She thrives on physical contact, even more so when she's upset. This is right up Lucy's alley. She shakes her head at the question.]

I don't know. I just--the hospital called me. He was stabbed.

[Uhura's mind works frantically. Chekov was on the way to visit Jinora...was he attacked on the way? Or did...no. She couldn't have. She wouldn't have.]

Did they tell you anything else?

[Her eyes well up with tears as she nods.]

Massive internal bleeding. [She really doesn't want to remember that part. She'd like to pretend that Pavel was going to wake up any minute.]

[Uhura strokes Lucy's hair reassuringly. Oh Pavel, what have you gotten yourself into now?

She gently extricates herself from Lucy's embrace.]

I'm going to get more information from the doctors.

Thanks, Uhura. [Lucy is very grateful. She's not the most assertive person when it comes to anything practical at all. She'll go back to sitting next to Pavel, her hand holding his limp one.]

[Shortly after Uhura leaves, Chekov's fingers curl around Lucy's.]

[Lucy notices it, her eyes going wide.] Pavel! [It's an urgent whisper. Very, very carefully she puts her knees on the bed then wedges herself onto the edge of the bed on her side, carefully snuggled up to Chekov. She doesn't put her head on his chest the way she might. She keeps their hands twined together wedged between them. Her knees press against his leg and her free arm is curled up beneath her head.] I'm right here, Pavel. I'm not going anywhere.

[Pavel shifts slightly in her direction. His mind is muffled by injury and the morphine drip, but he can process Lucy's words and feel her next to him. It's comforting to have her there, especially since he can't quite remember what happened to put him in this situation.

He mumbles something unintelligible as he struggles to gain some kind of clarity.]

Shhh. You don't have to talk. You know me, I can talk forever without any input at all. [She presses a kiss to his shoulder.] You focus on getting better.

[He wouldn't mind if she kept talking forever, not as long as she stays. The words might not be clear or make much sense, but she's there. That gets a smile. It's not much of a reaction, but Lucy will have to be content with with it.]

[Just that he's awake and aware that she's here is enough for Lucy, so she'll do just as promised and ramble on about things. He'll get to hear about how Bryant has decided he's afraid of any table or counter because Masha has taken to knocking things off the tables and counters on top of the dog. He'll hear about the new stock she's ordered for the store in preparation for summer and about the summer wardrobe shopping she has to do and how it's almost warm enough to head to the beach.

Basically, she'll just ramble about everything in an effort to fill the silence between them and push back the fear lurking under that silence.]

[ As a rule (if someone as adaptive as Hei functioned on absolutes), he doesn't do hospital visits, much less have the patience for them. He'd witnessed the ugly little confrontation between Korra and Pavel via his videos at the beachhouse earlier. Despite being aware that a visit would do Pavel no good -- If he dies, he dies, and the City brings him back. If he lives, whoop dee fucking doo. But despite that callous but factual reasoning, he finds himself dropping by. He tells himself it's because Pavel's goodwill, his naive sense of fairness, is a potential asset, and not something to toss away needlessly. ]

[ But it's not quite so simple. ]

[ Hei, in 'Li's baggy coat and jeans, appears in the doorway of the room, empty-handed. He understands that Pavel is beyond any need for flowers or fruit-baskets or reading material; his expression is pinched in an affectation of concern. Quietly, he murmurs, ] ...Pavel? [ It's just a token soundbyte. He's not expecting an answer. ]

[Of all of the times for Chekov to be conscious (for a certain definition of "conscious." The morphine drip and debilitating injuries aren't helping any effort to remain awake)...

Hei gets a slight rustle from the hospital bed and a croak that may or may not be actual words.]

[ Hei has looked death and injury in the face plenty of times. But this kind always privately unnerves him. In Chekov's position, unable to move to fight, the seething rage at being helpless would hurt Hei more than the wound itself. He's always been partial to action, and the inability to act is frustrating. Powerlessness equals death in his profession, and Hei would never want to die like that. ]

[ At the indecipherable croak, he raises his eyebrows. Steps up to Pavel's bedside, leaning in. In a voice pitched for the younger man's ears alone, he murmurs, ] Фамилию матери не ублюдок. Но я уверен, ваши раны почувствовал, как один.

[ The Russian is slightly accented, clearly that of a non-native speaker who knows enough to get by. The tiny quirk at the corner of Hei's mouth is mildly sympathetic if not warm. ]

[If Pavel was in any functioning state of mind, he certainly wouldn't be happy with his current situation--not for the same reasons, of course, but being unable to act is a terrible thing. Not being able to think clearly, however, is worse.

Hei's statement gets an amused snort. Chekov pries his eyes open, but isn't in much of a way to speak. He's glad to see Hei, though. Maybe it's the morphine.

Hei's Russian accent is probably better than Chekov's accent in any language that isn't his native tongue.]

[ Definitely the morphine. ]

[ Quietly, Hei sidles into a seat by the younger man's bedside. Tasteless as the joke was, he's both surprised and not by the amused snort. No matter how doped up the boy is, his ears and mental faculties are still functional. He's not planning to stay long; whether Pavel's recovery spikes up or down is upto the staff's competence and the extent of the damage itself. ]

[ (Idly, he thinks this is one case among several where death, and returning as City dead, is preferable. At least then the injuries are a blank slate. But if Pavel lives, and if the wound is complicated, he'll have to deal with hemiplegia or something equally shitty.) ]

[ Naturally he doesn't say that. ] It's going to be rush hour at the hospital soon. This curse has left open wounds everywhere. [ Both literal and metaphorical. ]

[Uhura's surprised to find someone in Chekov's room when she comes back from getting coffee. Someone who isn't Lucy, at least.]

Hello.

[Her tone isn't cold, but it is a little wary and very protective. She comes around, getting a better look at the stranger's face. It looks familiar.]

You're...Li, aren't you?

[She's never been properly introduced to Chekov's friend, but she's seen the young man around. And she remembers Chekov saying that he and Korra had first fought because Li had rejected her.]

Thank you for coming.

[The hospital is starting to fill up. Chekov beat the rush, it seems, but the casualties are piling up. The hospital staff aren't as attentive as they might be, either... perhaps because they're busy stabbing each other in the back.

Pavel's means of responding are somewhat limited, so pardon him for not introducing Uhura to "Li." He's clearly listening to them, even if his own input is lacking.]

[ You can only rely on doctors for so much. Wasn't it Anton Chekov who said they're just the same as lawyers? The only difference is that lawyers merely rob you, whereas doctors rob you and kill you too. Having them stab each other instead is simply good civic responsibility. ]

[ Hei glances up at Uhura's approach. He recognizes her right off the bat from both private surveillance and the Network. A superior officer from Chekov's homeworld. Pretending she's caught him off-guard, he lurches to his feet. ] Ah -- ! [ Red-faced, he extends a timid hand for her to shake, which he immediately withdraws. Put a pretty woman in front of 'Li' and it's like he's tripping over his shoelaces, only his shoelaces are his tongue. ] T-That's right. Li Shenshung. Nice to meet you. You must be Miss Uhura.

[ The blush fades, leaving him pale and downcast. ] It was the least I could do. Pavel's one of the few [ valuable assets ] really good friends I have here.

[At his stammering, Uhura can't help but think This guy rejected Korra? She can't imagine what the firecracker young teenager saw in him, much less how he mustered up the courage to tell her "no."

She reaches out to squeeze his arm reassuringly.]

He'd be glad you're here.

[If only Uhura knew. It would be lovely if the Li facade was entirely real and he did consider Pavel a good friend and not a liability or a tool.

Chekov would like them to talk to him rather than about him. He's more awake now than he has been since the incident, drugs aside, and doesn't want to waste that. With some effort (due to internal damage, he thinks he was told--rather serious, little chance of living), he manages a quiet:]

Не беспокойтесь.

[Don't worry. He can't tell what language he's speaking anymore, but Uhura will know and she's the one he's addressing. Hei likely isn't capable of worry for one of his tools.]

[ It's probably better that Uhura thinks of Li as a shy SuperNerd with a case of bedhead. She can draw her own conclusions as to why he would've rejected (run away from) Korra. (Too pretty -- Too athletic -- She'd leave him for someone better anyway.) The boy had a live dynamite on his hands and clearly couldn't handle it. ]

[ The rims of his ears redden as Uhura squeezes his arm. He smiles timidly and drops his gaze, focusing on Chekov. The younger man's murmur makes him frown, ] Huh? Wh-what did he say? [ As if he isn't conversant enough in the language to understand. 'Don't Worry.' Except, looking at Chekov's ashen face, he can't help but think: He's not going to make it. ]

[ The first time a friend dies, it's a tragedy. The second time, it's supposedly a farce. Nonetheless Hei is surprised to feel a small measure of sympathy. ]

Pasha.

[Li is forgotten as Uhura sweeps over to hover over Chekov. She brushes the hair off his forehead.]

Shhhhh, don't try to talk. You need to save your strength.

[A small measure of sympathy? That would make sense, since Chekov isn't even sure why Hei is there. It was kind of him to show, whatever his reasons.

The notion of saving his strength is laughable (or maybe that's the morphine). He's dimly aware of the fact that it would be far better to die than to live; living means a slow healing process and too much time in bed to think. (The fact that he can't think clearly now is, Pavel thinks, a small kindness.) Maybe he could fight to live, if only for Nyota's sake, but there's no strength left to save.

What little pain the morphine left behind is fading. Nyota seems to be fading, as well, and he would like to apologize, but she did tell him not to talk.

The machines are making noises now--a bit like the klaxon on a ship's bridge--but the sound is distant. It gets farther away as Nyota vanishes out of sight. j

And then there's nothing.]

[ Hei wants to tell Uhura to save her breath. Judging by the fading glow in Pavel's eyes, he's half off the carousel anyway, the other half consumed in morphine. The machinery sounds off -- an onomatopoeic whoop-whoop he hasn't heard since Heaven's War, when the soldier's barracks were rigged with intruder alarms. The room feels like a steel drum, sounds bouncing off the walls; his ears are vibrating. ]

[ 'Li' would opt for wide-eyed panic at this point. But Hei honestly doesn't have the patience. The faint animation in Pavel is nearly all gone already. The rest of him will soon follow. He expects to feel sadness, or at least a facsimile. But all he feels is tired. (It is tiring, the constant grief or performance of grief or the careful suppression of grief.) ]

[ From the corner of his eye, he sees the pointy spikes on the EKG descend to curvy sine waves. Without meeting Uhura's gaze, he says, ] I'll get the doctors. [ But the words come out with a dead flatness, like a dismissal. ]

[ It's already too late. ]

[Uhura doesn't hear Li. She doesn't care. All of her focus is on the young, lifeless body in front of her.

She doesn't break down sobbing. Her Starfleet training keeps the sobs firmly in check, though it can do nothing about the tears coursing down her face as she squeezes Chekov's cold hand and presses kisses to his knuckles.

After everything they've been through, after everything they've survived, she can't believe his life ends like this. It's not right.]

Beware the Ides of March

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threadjack?

Absolutely yes

huzzah!

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threadjack?

YES.

\^^/

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