Family (Part 2)
Title: Family (Part 2)
Author: Holls H.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek, wish I did, but no.
Rating: PG
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing(s): Scotty/Chekov, McCoy/Kirk
Warning(s): Angst
Summary: After the death of his parents, someone's got to break the news to Chekov, and when the legal documents come out, it's discovered that the Chekovs lied about Pavel's age to get him into Starfleet. Someone's got to adopt the ensign, or he's going to end up off the Enterprise. To Kirk's surprise, his boyfriend McCoy decides to assume the responsibility.
Notes: From a prompt on st_xi_kink. Part 1 is here, this is the second part of...I don't know how many yet.
When Chekov finally woke the next morning, it took him a few moments to remember where he was and why he was there. The panic from the day earlier had subsided, replaced instead by a gnawing sense of emptiness and confusion. When he'd woken up yesterday morning, it had been in Scotty's bed, curled up next to the man he loved, and he'd known who he was. He was Pavel Andreyevich Chekov, seventeen years old, orphaned but old enough to stay on board the ship. Now he was Vitaliy, fifteen, and newly adopted son of Leonard McCoy, whose bed he'd spent the night in platonically.
It didn't take long for the tears to return this time, and though he tried to keep quiet this time, McCoy had easily heard him from the other room. The doctor had been awake for hours now, pacing and trying to figure out how he was going to talk to Chekov when the boy woke. Now that the time had come, he felt no more prepared as he did when he'd first awaken.
"Pavel..." McCoy said as he walked into the room, taking a seat on the bed behind the boy, reaching over to rub his back. "Pavel, take a deep breath, it's going to be fine. You're here, you're safe, you're not going anywhere."
"I...I am not Pavel..." Chekov's voice said after a moment, his throat feeling sore and tight.
"Far as I'm concerned, you are," McCoy said with a sigh. He'd wondered how Chekov had been dealing with that particular part of the news. Finding out you were your own dead brother, and that the name you had answered to for years wasn't your own, had to be a terrible shock for anyone, much less someone in Chekov's already vulnerable position.
"No, Pavel is dead, I am Vitaliy, you heard the Captain," Chekov replied, closing his eyes to try to shut out his own words, and the reality behind them. "I am Vitaliy Chekov...I am your son now..."
"You make it sound a lot simpler than it is, but I'm telling you now, you're whoever you want to be, and a name doesn't change that," McCoy said, his voice sterner than he meant it to be. "As for the rest, yes, you've been adopted by me, and I don't plan to take my responsibility to you lightly. You don't have to call me Dad or anything like that, though."
Chekov wasn't entirely convinced, though.
"But...how can I be Pavel if Pavel is dead?" he asked, shaking his head.
"For one, you've had the name longer than he did, I'd say," McCoy said frankly. "It's what you call yourself, and what you answer to, so I'd say that makes it more yours than anyone else's. If you want to change your name back to your birth one, I won't stop you, but I think you should at least give it some time before you do anything drastic."
"Drastic like suddenly adopting someone without thinking?" Chekov asked, regretting his words after they left his mouth.
"I thought about it, only for a few seconds, but that was enough," McCoy said. "I thought it was more important to keep you here, and to know that you were safe, than let you disappear into the system. Maybe you would have actually met a better family that way, but I didn't think it was worth the risk. You belong here."
Chekov's guilt grew, but it wasn't the only emotion he felt on the subject. He couldn't help feeling partially angry that his opinion on the matter was never allowed to be expressed, though by the way events unfolded, he was sure that there had been little time to weigh the pros and cons. He knew he should just be thankful he was here at all.
"...I do not want to call you...you know," Chekov said after a moment. "So what do I call you?"
"Leonard's good with me, or Leo, or Len," McCoy suggested, a bit relieved that they were finally getting somewhere with all of this mess. "And is there anything in particular you'd prefer me to call you?"
"You can call me Pavel, until I have decided about my name, and I think Leonard is fine," Chekov said softly. "...forgive me if I find this all very odd, it is not because I am not thankful, Leonard."
"Don't worry about it, kid," McCoy nodded, giving Chekov a light pat on the back before getting to his feet to get them both a cup of coffee. "I understand, I'd be pretty damn shaken up in your place. As long as you don't try to knock my teeth out, we're doing just fine."
Chekov nodded dumbly, slowly sitting up, but not leaving the bed as McCoy left. He supposed it was natural to feel awkward, he wasn't really sure what he should say or do with himself. It was easier after his parents died, he knew how to mourn, and the others all seemed to have an understanding of what he was going through. This, however, was vastly different. There wasn't a stage in a normal person's life when they found out their identity was a lie.
"So...who knows about this?" Chekov asked as McCoy came back in, reaching his hand out to take the mug being offered to him. "Obviously you were not the only one the Captain asked, who else did he talk to?"
"Because of Russian law, the person who adopted you had to be sixteen years older than you, so everyone who qualified was spoken to," McCoy said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "I was in the last group along with Lieutenant Wong, Lieutenant Commander Price, Nurse Bedi, and...Scotty."
McCoy had a feeling that it had been Scotty's name Chekov had been asking specifically about.
"So...Monty knows..." Chekov said, his hands shaking enough to spill a drop of coffee onto the comforter. "Monty knows I am fifteen, and Captain asked him to adopt me..."
"He was about to, actually, I stopped him," McCoy said, not wanting to add everything else he'd told the man. "He wanted to keep you here, he didn't want you heading back to Earth by yourself, he was thinking about you."
'And maybe redeeming himself for a few unintentional sins,' he mentally added.
"H-he...what was he like? Was he upset?" Chekov asked, half wanting to run from the room and see the man he loved, and half wanting to hide from him forever. "He knows I did not know, yes? I was not tricking him, I did not know, I would not deceive him."
"He was very upset, Pavel, and I'm pretty sure he knows you didn't lie to him," McCoy sighed, realizing that he was going to have something else to deal with concerning Pavel. It wasn't that he disliked Montgomery Scott, far from it, he thought the man was a hard worker and a good person to have on board, but he wasn't entirely comfortable with the thought of a fifteen year old in his care dating a man nearing on thirty six.
"Oh my God..." Chekov whimpered, shoving the coffee cup towards McCoy as he leapt from the bed, making a dash to the washroom, barely dropping to his knees in time before throwing up.
"Shit, kid," McCoy said, setting the cups down, following Chekov into the bathroom to make sure the boy made it. Vomit didn't bother him, but seeing Chekov break down like this sure as hell did. "Get it up, come on..."
"I want my life back...I want it back..." Chekov panted once the heaves stopped, . "You say...you say that I am the same, I am not! I am someone else! I am not myself, everything has changed, this is not something little! This is my entire life!"
He didn't know if he was actually angry at McCoy or not, but that's who was there, and that's who was dealing with the brunt of his frustrated fury.
"I never said it was something little, Pavel calm down..." McCoy said softly, putting his hands up. "I'm trying to help you out, and I will, but you need to calm down."
"Calm down?? How can you expect me to be calm? I have lost my parents, who were fucking liars, and now I lose my boyfriend because of their lie! He will not want a child, he will not want..." Chekov broke down again, screaming and punching the wall next to the toilet, winding up to do it again when McCoy caught him by the wrist. "Let me go!"
"And let you break your goddamn hand? I don't think so!" McCoy snapped, pulling the struggling boy away from the wall by his captured arm. "You WILL calm down, Ensign, or I'll administer something that will calm you down!"
"How fast I go from Pavel to Ensign!" Chekov barked back, still fighting to pull his arm away.
"If it means catching your attention before you do something stupid, then I'll call you whatever works!" McCoy argued in return, though he did feel guilty about it. He was trying to build a more personal relationship with the boy so they could work through this together, but going into military mode was a reflex.
"What do you expect of me? How did you think I would act?" Chekov shot back. "The one person I love and who loves me and I lose him too! Before, I at least had him! Now I am alone!"
"You're not alone, you've got me, don't you?" McCoy asked sharply, a bit surprised by how much Chekov's statement bothered him.
Chekov's eyes narrowed as he finally pulled his arm away from McCoy, getting to his feet.
"Until yesterday, you have said maybe five sentences to me," he said coolly. "Forgive me, Leonard, if your new title over me does not inspire immediate feelings."
Storming out of the bathroom, Chekov headed back into the bedroom, but McCoy didn't follow him this time. He figured the kid needed a moment to cool down, as did he. It wasn't that he thought this would be easy, he knew Chekov had a difficult road ahead of him, but he hadn't pictured himself getting so frustrated by the boy's emotions. He was a doctor, and a father already, this was supposed to be easier for him.
With a defeated sigh, McCoy headed for the couch, plunking onto it and resting his head in his hands. He didn't want to admit he needed help, but he had a feeling he'd be calling Kirk before the day was out. He doubted Kirk could do anything to actually help out, and he was pretty sure it would make things worse if he brought a third party into their already unorthodox situation but he needed to vent to someone before he blew up at the kid currently sulking in his room. God knows he'd been close to doing it back in the bathroom.
McCoy was beginning to feel like he'd made a huge mistake.
Despite his initial thoughts that he couldn't bear to face Scotty, Chekov only managed to stay away for a few hours. After a while, McCoy gave up on waiting for his new son to emerge from the bedroom, and once he left to report for duty, Chekov was out the door and heading down to Engineering. He knew Scotty's schedule, and where the man's mood would most likely place him, his instincts taking him straight to his office. Before he could even raise his hand to knock on the door, Chekov could hear commotion inside, meaning he'd been right about both Scotty's location, and how he was coping with everything.
In that moment, the doubt began to seep back into Chekov's mind. Worry that Scotty's anger would be directed at him mingled with the fear that seeing him again would only be a brutal reminder of what he'd lost. This wasn't a casual sexual relationship coming to an awkward end, this was love. They'd already begun to plan their futures around each other, marriage had been discussed, as well as adoption, and Chekov couldn't bear the thought of losing that dream. That fantasy was the most realistic sense of family he'd had since his parents had died. He couldn't let that go.
His hand froze above the chime, unsure if he could really face Scotty, or the truth. Though, before he could even think of turning around and leaving, the door opened before him, and the choice was immediately made for him.
"...M-Monty..." Chekov stammered, his chest feeling tight. It was obvious that the man hadn't slept well, he looked exhausted and depressed. "I did not know..."
Scotty just stared back at him for a second, his own heart aching at the sight of the boy he'd fallen in love with over the last few months. Over the last twenty four hours, he'd been made to feel terrible and guilty over the feelings he'd once treasured, and though he'd told himself over and over what he had to do, seeing Chekov made him realize how much more complicated things were.
"...in my office..." Scotty managed after a second, standing back and letting Chekov walk past him, following him inside as the door closed behind them. "Pavel...Pasha..."
It was Scotty's turn to notice the exhaustion and hurt in Chekov's eyes, and he felt guilty for all the times in the past day he'd thought of himself. Chekov had lost far more than he had in this, even after the death of his parents, he hadn't looked so drained and uncertain. Stepping forward, he took the boy into his arms, kissing his hair as he held him close, his heart breaking as Chekov dissolved into tears.
"Pasha, I'm so sorry..." Scotty whispered, pressing his lips against his ear, rubbing his back. "I'm so, so sorry...I know you didn't know, I never once thought you lied to me."
"Everything...everything is changed, I am losing my mind, I want..." Chekov gulped for air between sobs. "You were all I had left, and now things will change, yes...? I am going to lose you..."
Scotty had been telling himself all night that he had to break it off with Chekov, that it was the right thing to do even thought it would kill him to do it. He thought he'd had himself convinced, it was the reason he hadn't slept all night. Hearing Chekov say it, though, made him realize he was no where near prepared to leave him.
"No, you're not...oh, my Pasha, you'll never, ever lose me..." Scotty said, his hands trembling as they stroked Chekov's hair, wondering how he ever thought he could tell him that he didn't want to be with him. "Pasha, it's alright, just breathe..."
"Not alright...it...I am not who I thought...how...how can we be together...?" Chekov asked, burying his face against Scotty's shoulder. "I am too young, not until I am sixteen can I-"
"Then we can wait to do that again," Scotty interrupted. "That's not the only reason I'm with you, not by far, and if we can't sleep together for a year, so be it. I still love you."
He sighed softly as Chekov didn't seem calmed by his words. He doubted that the change in their relationship was the only reason the boy was crying.
"No, I want to stay with you, I want to be in your bed so I can sleep in your arms," Chekov said, shaking his head. "He will not allow it, though, I am supposed to move in with him, a stranger..."
"You mean McCoy, I presume?" Scotty asked, wincing a little. He could just see the man's reaction if Chekov informed him that he wanted to spend the night with Scotty, even if he did promise not to have sex with him. "And he's not a stranger, you know him...I'm sure he's just doing what he thinks is best for you, Pasha."
"He does not know me enough to know what is best," Chekov retorted quietly. "You are what is best for me."
"I don't think I've ever been described as best for anyone..." Scotty tried to joke, though it was obvious Chekov was in no laughing mood. "I do think he means well, Pasha, he adopted you because I was about to, and...honestly, would you have wanted me to adopt you? It would have written off us ever getting married, I don't think anyone would marry us if I was your legal guardian. And our relationship would have definitely have had to change."
Chekov didn't reply to that. He didn't really want to hear reason right now, he wanted sympathy.
"I am thankful he did that, Monty, but...what I am not thankful for is that he is moving me in with him, he is expecting me to treat him as my father," he said. "He is not just acting as a guardian, why he can not just sign the damn forms and leave me to be is beyond me!"
"Actually, that came up," Scotty said, rubbing Chekov's back, wishing he hadn't said anything. He didn't think Chekov was going to appreciate McCoy's opinion on the situation very much. "That's what Kirk had suggested, but McCoy thought that, at your age, you needed an actual parent, not just someone to sign something to keep you here."
As Scotty had predicted, Chekov was less than impressed by this news.
"So I am a child that can not make decisions or take care of himself, but I am still trusted as a tactical officer? I can make decisions regarding everyone else's fate but my own, is that it?" Chekov asked, backing away from Scotty to pace, running a hand through his hair. "Or is that being taken from me too?"
"As far as I know, you're on the duty roster still, but the Captain's given you a few days off," Scotty said softly, sitting on the corner of his desk. "Pasha, I'm not saying I agree with what's going on, but I don't think there's a lot we can do to change it. I know you don't want to hear this, but for now I think we just have to make the best with what we have."
Chekov shook his head a little, not slowing as he turned and paced back towards the door.
"The best we have...I do not even know what that is, tomorrow we can find out maybe I am not even old enough to serve, or maybe that I am not even male, or Russian, maybe I am some Finnish girl..." he trailed off, his fists clenched at his sides. "I want to know why they did this, what they hoped to accomplish by making me someone else!"
"You're still the same person, love, inside you are," Scotty said, his voice gentle, not wanting to further upset Chekov.
"No, I am not, I am Vitaliy Chekov, fifteen years old. That is different from Pavel Chekov!" Chekov protested loudly, though Scotty recognized the tone as fear, not anger. "I am not Pavel any more, how can I go by that name when it was stolen from another boy?"
"You may have been born with a different name, Pasha, but whatever your name is, you're the one that put accomplishments beside it, it's yours now," Scotty said, getting up to put his hands on Chekov's shoulders, stopping him from pacing. "I can't imagine how you're feeling, I don't presume to know what you're going through, but I do know that I look at you and I don't see anyone by my Pasha. You're my wee, darling Pasha, nothing's ever going to make me think differently..."
Scotty was ready for the weight of Chekov's body as the boy fell against him, breaking down into tears. Holding him tightly, Scotty pressed more kisses against his curls, whispering against his hair that he wasn't going anywhere, he was safe, and that he would never be alone with him around.
McCoy had reported to Sickbay, but with no real emergencies and no desire to interact with anyone, he'd quickly retired to his office with the excuse of doing paperwork. Taking out his flask, he began to slowly wade through the inventory files between belts of whisky, wishing he'd bought the larger model when the liquid was reduced to a trickle. It had been enough to take the edge off, however, and his self-directed anger at taking in Pavel Chekov had been reduced to regret. The kid had been right, he'd barely exchanged a few words with him in the time they'd been on board, why did he think he could handle this? His parenting experience meant nothing; he was used to an angelic little girl, not a confused and hurt teenage boy.
When he heard the knock on the door, he tucked the flask back into his top desk drawer, picking up a PADD as he tried to look like he'd actually been attempting to work.
"It's open," he said gruffly, keeping his eyes down. "And I swear, if this is something someone else could have handled..."
"No, not really," came the reply.
McCoy looked up at Kirk, sighing and dropping the PADD back down on his desk as he watched his best friend and lover walk into the room. As the door closed behind him, Kirk made his way to the chair across the desk from McCoy's, plunking down without a word. For a moment, both men didn't speak, and when it was obvious that neither one was eager to break the awkward silence, Kirk took it upon himself to go first.
"I'm not angry that you adopted him, in case you were wondering," Kirk began, looking over at McCoy, though the attempt at eye contact wasn't returned.
"Didn't think you would be," McCoy replied, his fingers slowly drumming on the desk, eyes fixed on them as they struck out slow, deliberate rhythms. "You called me to the meeting, you had to know it was a possibility."
"Actually, no, that was just a formality," Kirk admitted. "Both you and Scotty were going to be excluded, but orders were everyone of age. Kind of funny when you think about it considering you were the only two to step up..."
Kirk trailed off with a sigh, running a hand over his hair. Normally he was a much better speaker, but Leonard McCoy was one man who could truly make him tongue tied.
"Look, you saved Chekov from ending up who knows where, you did the right thing," Kirk said, wondering if he should just leave, it was evident McCoy wasn't in a mood to chat.
"I don't know if I'd say that," McCoy said, his fingers pausing above the desk before coming to a quiet rest on the surface. "I don't think it was such a good idea."
"...so what happened in the course of a morning, or a night, whatever, that made you think that?" Kirk asked, crossing his arms as he leaned back.
McCoy shrugged, shaking his head as he brought his hand up to cover his mouth.
"We fought, he pointed out I know nothing about him," he said as he moved his hand to his chin, scratching it. It was a nervous tick, one that Kirk immediately picked up on. "I don't think I handled it well, he doesn't seem to like me much, and I can't blame him."
"Are you really surprised? Don't you remember what you were like when you were fifteen?" Kirk asked, raising an eyebrow. "I think I said that exact line to my own mother a few dozen times, and she'd been my parent for more than twelve hours."
"Jim, obviously I know it's going to take time, but it's time I don't think I have, or patience," McCoy said, finally looking at him. "I was impulsive, all I thought at the moment is that I'm a father already, so I can be one again, but I didn't think about how different it would be. Stupid, I know, but I didn't. I thought about what I would want to happen to my daughter if she was in Chekov's position, but that would never happen, would it? It's not a matter of him losing his parents, it's a matter of him being lied to and having no idea who he is right now, and he needs more support than I can give him. I'm not cut out for this."
Kirk sighed, getting out of his chair and walking over to the other side of the desk, plunking down on it in front of McCoy and holding a hand out towards him. It took a moment for McCoy to take it, and when he did, Kirk pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around him.
"Stop acting like you're in this alone," he said, giving McCoy's shoulder a squeeze before rubbing it softly. "I'm not saying the three of us should be playing happy family together, but you're not by yourself. You've got me, you can scream and bitch and rant to me all you want, I don't care. But I know you, Leonard, you give up now, and you'll hate yourself..."
In that moment, McCoy hated that Kirk understood him so well, but at the same time he knew the man had a point. If he failed Chekov and the boy had to leave the ship, he would be haunted by it.
"...Jim, I don't want to hurt him..." McCoy admitted softly. "I see myself letting him down, and I can't get that image out of my head. He's right, I don't know him, so how can I expect to do anything for him?"
"Maybe you should take a couple of days to try to, it couldn't hurt at least," Kirk suggested, his hand wandering up to stroke the back of McCoy's neck, pressing a kiss against his temple. "I don't think you ever thought this was going to be easy, you don't underestimate things like that...so what's shaken you? What happened?"
It took McCoy a moment to relax, but the neck massage soon began to work it's magic. Kirk was good at this, possibly too good.
"I guess...when I took this on, I had two things in mind," McCoy admitted, leaning his head forward and pressing it against Kirk's shoulder. "I told you that I would want someone to do the same for Joanna, and...don't you dare tell a soul, but I miss being a parent, I really do. As stupid as it sounds, I thought that...this time, no one can just..."
He licked his lips, closing his eyes.
"I'm an idiot, I'm a fucking idiot, I took on responsibility for another human being because I lost my daughter, okay? She was taken from me, I couldn't see her when I was back on Earth, and even now I can't talk to her without that bitch standing behind her, glaring at me," McCoy whispered, wrapping his arms around Kirk's waist, hands resting on the small of his back. "You say that I don't underestimate things, but this time I completely screwed up. I did something based off emotion, I didn't think rationally, and now what have I gone and done?"
"You didn't do something wrong, so stop talking like you did," Kirk said gently, rubbing slow circles on the back of McCoy's neck, tracing over his hairline. "So the first day didn't go well, that's not the end of the world, and it's not necessarily going to be how every other day is going to go. You say you did this for the wrong reasons, but Leonard, you kept Chekov on board where he belongs. It doesn't necessarily matter why you did this if something good comes from it."
"I don't know-" McCoy began.
"I do," Kirk interrupted. "Stop beating yourself up, this is nothing to feel guilty over. I'm proud of you..."
McCoy straightened up, his eyes finally meeting Kirk's for the first time since he came in. Smiling weakly, he sighed and pressed a light kiss to the Captain's lips.
"Thanks, Jim," he whispered.
"Don't mention it, you owe me though," Kirk joked, returning the kiss, taking his hand away from McCoy's neck to pat his cheek.
"Isn't the whole point of 'don't mention it' that I don't have to pay you back?" McCoy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Usually, yes, but I think you'll enjoy the payment I have in mind," Kirk grinned, winking. "I'll let you get back to work, but comm me later if you need anything. Don't suffer on your own, alright?"
"Yeah yeah..." McCoy agreed with a sigh, letting go of Kirk to plunk back down in his chair. "Get back to work yourself."
As Kirk left with a wave, McCoy leaned back in his seat, smiling to himself. He wasn't comforted, not by a long shot, and he still wasn't entirely convinced that he could do this, but he knew he wasn't alone.
Author: Holls H.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek, wish I did, but no.
Rating: PG
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing(s): Scotty/Chekov, McCoy/Kirk
Warning(s): Angst
Summary: After the death of his parents, someone's got to break the news to Chekov, and when the legal documents come out, it's discovered that the Chekovs lied about Pavel's age to get him into Starfleet. Someone's got to adopt the ensign, or he's going to end up off the Enterprise. To Kirk's surprise, his boyfriend McCoy decides to assume the responsibility.
Notes: From a prompt on st_xi_kink. Part 1 is here, this is the second part of...I don't know how many yet.
When Chekov finally woke the next morning, it took him a few moments to remember where he was and why he was there. The panic from the day earlier had subsided, replaced instead by a gnawing sense of emptiness and confusion. When he'd woken up yesterday morning, it had been in Scotty's bed, curled up next to the man he loved, and he'd known who he was. He was Pavel Andreyevich Chekov, seventeen years old, orphaned but old enough to stay on board the ship. Now he was Vitaliy, fifteen, and newly adopted son of Leonard McCoy, whose bed he'd spent the night in platonically.
It didn't take long for the tears to return this time, and though he tried to keep quiet this time, McCoy had easily heard him from the other room. The doctor had been awake for hours now, pacing and trying to figure out how he was going to talk to Chekov when the boy woke. Now that the time had come, he felt no more prepared as he did when he'd first awaken.
"Pavel..." McCoy said as he walked into the room, taking a seat on the bed behind the boy, reaching over to rub his back. "Pavel, take a deep breath, it's going to be fine. You're here, you're safe, you're not going anywhere."
"I...I am not Pavel..." Chekov's voice said after a moment, his throat feeling sore and tight.
"Far as I'm concerned, you are," McCoy said with a sigh. He'd wondered how Chekov had been dealing with that particular part of the news. Finding out you were your own dead brother, and that the name you had answered to for years wasn't your own, had to be a terrible shock for anyone, much less someone in Chekov's already vulnerable position.
"No, Pavel is dead, I am Vitaliy, you heard the Captain," Chekov replied, closing his eyes to try to shut out his own words, and the reality behind them. "I am Vitaliy Chekov...I am your son now..."
"You make it sound a lot simpler than it is, but I'm telling you now, you're whoever you want to be, and a name doesn't change that," McCoy said, his voice sterner than he meant it to be. "As for the rest, yes, you've been adopted by me, and I don't plan to take my responsibility to you lightly. You don't have to call me Dad or anything like that, though."
Chekov wasn't entirely convinced, though.
"But...how can I be Pavel if Pavel is dead?" he asked, shaking his head.
"For one, you've had the name longer than he did, I'd say," McCoy said frankly. "It's what you call yourself, and what you answer to, so I'd say that makes it more yours than anyone else's. If you want to change your name back to your birth one, I won't stop you, but I think you should at least give it some time before you do anything drastic."
"Drastic like suddenly adopting someone without thinking?" Chekov asked, regretting his words after they left his mouth.
"I thought about it, only for a few seconds, but that was enough," McCoy said. "I thought it was more important to keep you here, and to know that you were safe, than let you disappear into the system. Maybe you would have actually met a better family that way, but I didn't think it was worth the risk. You belong here."
Chekov's guilt grew, but it wasn't the only emotion he felt on the subject. He couldn't help feeling partially angry that his opinion on the matter was never allowed to be expressed, though by the way events unfolded, he was sure that there had been little time to weigh the pros and cons. He knew he should just be thankful he was here at all.
"...I do not want to call you...you know," Chekov said after a moment. "So what do I call you?"
"Leonard's good with me, or Leo, or Len," McCoy suggested, a bit relieved that they were finally getting somewhere with all of this mess. "And is there anything in particular you'd prefer me to call you?"
"You can call me Pavel, until I have decided about my name, and I think Leonard is fine," Chekov said softly. "...forgive me if I find this all very odd, it is not because I am not thankful, Leonard."
"Don't worry about it, kid," McCoy nodded, giving Chekov a light pat on the back before getting to his feet to get them both a cup of coffee. "I understand, I'd be pretty damn shaken up in your place. As long as you don't try to knock my teeth out, we're doing just fine."
Chekov nodded dumbly, slowly sitting up, but not leaving the bed as McCoy left. He supposed it was natural to feel awkward, he wasn't really sure what he should say or do with himself. It was easier after his parents died, he knew how to mourn, and the others all seemed to have an understanding of what he was going through. This, however, was vastly different. There wasn't a stage in a normal person's life when they found out their identity was a lie.
"So...who knows about this?" Chekov asked as McCoy came back in, reaching his hand out to take the mug being offered to him. "Obviously you were not the only one the Captain asked, who else did he talk to?"
"Because of Russian law, the person who adopted you had to be sixteen years older than you, so everyone who qualified was spoken to," McCoy said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "I was in the last group along with Lieutenant Wong, Lieutenant Commander Price, Nurse Bedi, and...Scotty."
McCoy had a feeling that it had been Scotty's name Chekov had been asking specifically about.
"So...Monty knows..." Chekov said, his hands shaking enough to spill a drop of coffee onto the comforter. "Monty knows I am fifteen, and Captain asked him to adopt me..."
"He was about to, actually, I stopped him," McCoy said, not wanting to add everything else he'd told the man. "He wanted to keep you here, he didn't want you heading back to Earth by yourself, he was thinking about you."
'And maybe redeeming himself for a few unintentional sins,' he mentally added.
"H-he...what was he like? Was he upset?" Chekov asked, half wanting to run from the room and see the man he loved, and half wanting to hide from him forever. "He knows I did not know, yes? I was not tricking him, I did not know, I would not deceive him."
"He was very upset, Pavel, and I'm pretty sure he knows you didn't lie to him," McCoy sighed, realizing that he was going to have something else to deal with concerning Pavel. It wasn't that he disliked Montgomery Scott, far from it, he thought the man was a hard worker and a good person to have on board, but he wasn't entirely comfortable with the thought of a fifteen year old in his care dating a man nearing on thirty six.
"Oh my God..." Chekov whimpered, shoving the coffee cup towards McCoy as he leapt from the bed, making a dash to the washroom, barely dropping to his knees in time before throwing up.
"Shit, kid," McCoy said, setting the cups down, following Chekov into the bathroom to make sure the boy made it. Vomit didn't bother him, but seeing Chekov break down like this sure as hell did. "Get it up, come on..."
"I want my life back...I want it back..." Chekov panted once the heaves stopped, . "You say...you say that I am the same, I am not! I am someone else! I am not myself, everything has changed, this is not something little! This is my entire life!"
He didn't know if he was actually angry at McCoy or not, but that's who was there, and that's who was dealing with the brunt of his frustrated fury.
"I never said it was something little, Pavel calm down..." McCoy said softly, putting his hands up. "I'm trying to help you out, and I will, but you need to calm down."
"Calm down?? How can you expect me to be calm? I have lost my parents, who were fucking liars, and now I lose my boyfriend because of their lie! He will not want a child, he will not want..." Chekov broke down again, screaming and punching the wall next to the toilet, winding up to do it again when McCoy caught him by the wrist. "Let me go!"
"And let you break your goddamn hand? I don't think so!" McCoy snapped, pulling the struggling boy away from the wall by his captured arm. "You WILL calm down, Ensign, or I'll administer something that will calm you down!"
"How fast I go from Pavel to Ensign!" Chekov barked back, still fighting to pull his arm away.
"If it means catching your attention before you do something stupid, then I'll call you whatever works!" McCoy argued in return, though he did feel guilty about it. He was trying to build a more personal relationship with the boy so they could work through this together, but going into military mode was a reflex.
"What do you expect of me? How did you think I would act?" Chekov shot back. "The one person I love and who loves me and I lose him too! Before, I at least had him! Now I am alone!"
"You're not alone, you've got me, don't you?" McCoy asked sharply, a bit surprised by how much Chekov's statement bothered him.
Chekov's eyes narrowed as he finally pulled his arm away from McCoy, getting to his feet.
"Until yesterday, you have said maybe five sentences to me," he said coolly. "Forgive me, Leonard, if your new title over me does not inspire immediate feelings."
Storming out of the bathroom, Chekov headed back into the bedroom, but McCoy didn't follow him this time. He figured the kid needed a moment to cool down, as did he. It wasn't that he thought this would be easy, he knew Chekov had a difficult road ahead of him, but he hadn't pictured himself getting so frustrated by the boy's emotions. He was a doctor, and a father already, this was supposed to be easier for him.
With a defeated sigh, McCoy headed for the couch, plunking onto it and resting his head in his hands. He didn't want to admit he needed help, but he had a feeling he'd be calling Kirk before the day was out. He doubted Kirk could do anything to actually help out, and he was pretty sure it would make things worse if he brought a third party into their already unorthodox situation but he needed to vent to someone before he blew up at the kid currently sulking in his room. God knows he'd been close to doing it back in the bathroom.
McCoy was beginning to feel like he'd made a huge mistake.
Despite his initial thoughts that he couldn't bear to face Scotty, Chekov only managed to stay away for a few hours. After a while, McCoy gave up on waiting for his new son to emerge from the bedroom, and once he left to report for duty, Chekov was out the door and heading down to Engineering. He knew Scotty's schedule, and where the man's mood would most likely place him, his instincts taking him straight to his office. Before he could even raise his hand to knock on the door, Chekov could hear commotion inside, meaning he'd been right about both Scotty's location, and how he was coping with everything.
In that moment, the doubt began to seep back into Chekov's mind. Worry that Scotty's anger would be directed at him mingled with the fear that seeing him again would only be a brutal reminder of what he'd lost. This wasn't a casual sexual relationship coming to an awkward end, this was love. They'd already begun to plan their futures around each other, marriage had been discussed, as well as adoption, and Chekov couldn't bear the thought of losing that dream. That fantasy was the most realistic sense of family he'd had since his parents had died. He couldn't let that go.
His hand froze above the chime, unsure if he could really face Scotty, or the truth. Though, before he could even think of turning around and leaving, the door opened before him, and the choice was immediately made for him.
"...M-Monty..." Chekov stammered, his chest feeling tight. It was obvious that the man hadn't slept well, he looked exhausted and depressed. "I did not know..."
Scotty just stared back at him for a second, his own heart aching at the sight of the boy he'd fallen in love with over the last few months. Over the last twenty four hours, he'd been made to feel terrible and guilty over the feelings he'd once treasured, and though he'd told himself over and over what he had to do, seeing Chekov made him realize how much more complicated things were.
"...in my office..." Scotty managed after a second, standing back and letting Chekov walk past him, following him inside as the door closed behind them. "Pavel...Pasha..."
It was Scotty's turn to notice the exhaustion and hurt in Chekov's eyes, and he felt guilty for all the times in the past day he'd thought of himself. Chekov had lost far more than he had in this, even after the death of his parents, he hadn't looked so drained and uncertain. Stepping forward, he took the boy into his arms, kissing his hair as he held him close, his heart breaking as Chekov dissolved into tears.
"Pasha, I'm so sorry..." Scotty whispered, pressing his lips against his ear, rubbing his back. "I'm so, so sorry...I know you didn't know, I never once thought you lied to me."
"Everything...everything is changed, I am losing my mind, I want..." Chekov gulped for air between sobs. "You were all I had left, and now things will change, yes...? I am going to lose you..."
Scotty had been telling himself all night that he had to break it off with Chekov, that it was the right thing to do even thought it would kill him to do it. He thought he'd had himself convinced, it was the reason he hadn't slept all night. Hearing Chekov say it, though, made him realize he was no where near prepared to leave him.
"No, you're not...oh, my Pasha, you'll never, ever lose me..." Scotty said, his hands trembling as they stroked Chekov's hair, wondering how he ever thought he could tell him that he didn't want to be with him. "Pasha, it's alright, just breathe..."
"Not alright...it...I am not who I thought...how...how can we be together...?" Chekov asked, burying his face against Scotty's shoulder. "I am too young, not until I am sixteen can I-"
"Then we can wait to do that again," Scotty interrupted. "That's not the only reason I'm with you, not by far, and if we can't sleep together for a year, so be it. I still love you."
He sighed softly as Chekov didn't seem calmed by his words. He doubted that the change in their relationship was the only reason the boy was crying.
"No, I want to stay with you, I want to be in your bed so I can sleep in your arms," Chekov said, shaking his head. "He will not allow it, though, I am supposed to move in with him, a stranger..."
"You mean McCoy, I presume?" Scotty asked, wincing a little. He could just see the man's reaction if Chekov informed him that he wanted to spend the night with Scotty, even if he did promise not to have sex with him. "And he's not a stranger, you know him...I'm sure he's just doing what he thinks is best for you, Pasha."
"He does not know me enough to know what is best," Chekov retorted quietly. "You are what is best for me."
"I don't think I've ever been described as best for anyone..." Scotty tried to joke, though it was obvious Chekov was in no laughing mood. "I do think he means well, Pasha, he adopted you because I was about to, and...honestly, would you have wanted me to adopt you? It would have written off us ever getting married, I don't think anyone would marry us if I was your legal guardian. And our relationship would have definitely have had to change."
Chekov didn't reply to that. He didn't really want to hear reason right now, he wanted sympathy.
"I am thankful he did that, Monty, but...what I am not thankful for is that he is moving me in with him, he is expecting me to treat him as my father," he said. "He is not just acting as a guardian, why he can not just sign the damn forms and leave me to be is beyond me!"
"Actually, that came up," Scotty said, rubbing Chekov's back, wishing he hadn't said anything. He didn't think Chekov was going to appreciate McCoy's opinion on the situation very much. "That's what Kirk had suggested, but McCoy thought that, at your age, you needed an actual parent, not just someone to sign something to keep you here."
As Scotty had predicted, Chekov was less than impressed by this news.
"So I am a child that can not make decisions or take care of himself, but I am still trusted as a tactical officer? I can make decisions regarding everyone else's fate but my own, is that it?" Chekov asked, backing away from Scotty to pace, running a hand through his hair. "Or is that being taken from me too?"
"As far as I know, you're on the duty roster still, but the Captain's given you a few days off," Scotty said softly, sitting on the corner of his desk. "Pasha, I'm not saying I agree with what's going on, but I don't think there's a lot we can do to change it. I know you don't want to hear this, but for now I think we just have to make the best with what we have."
Chekov shook his head a little, not slowing as he turned and paced back towards the door.
"The best we have...I do not even know what that is, tomorrow we can find out maybe I am not even old enough to serve, or maybe that I am not even male, or Russian, maybe I am some Finnish girl..." he trailed off, his fists clenched at his sides. "I want to know why they did this, what they hoped to accomplish by making me someone else!"
"You're still the same person, love, inside you are," Scotty said, his voice gentle, not wanting to further upset Chekov.
"No, I am not, I am Vitaliy Chekov, fifteen years old. That is different from Pavel Chekov!" Chekov protested loudly, though Scotty recognized the tone as fear, not anger. "I am not Pavel any more, how can I go by that name when it was stolen from another boy?"
"You may have been born with a different name, Pasha, but whatever your name is, you're the one that put accomplishments beside it, it's yours now," Scotty said, getting up to put his hands on Chekov's shoulders, stopping him from pacing. "I can't imagine how you're feeling, I don't presume to know what you're going through, but I do know that I look at you and I don't see anyone by my Pasha. You're my wee, darling Pasha, nothing's ever going to make me think differently..."
Scotty was ready for the weight of Chekov's body as the boy fell against him, breaking down into tears. Holding him tightly, Scotty pressed more kisses against his curls, whispering against his hair that he wasn't going anywhere, he was safe, and that he would never be alone with him around.
McCoy had reported to Sickbay, but with no real emergencies and no desire to interact with anyone, he'd quickly retired to his office with the excuse of doing paperwork. Taking out his flask, he began to slowly wade through the inventory files between belts of whisky, wishing he'd bought the larger model when the liquid was reduced to a trickle. It had been enough to take the edge off, however, and his self-directed anger at taking in Pavel Chekov had been reduced to regret. The kid had been right, he'd barely exchanged a few words with him in the time they'd been on board, why did he think he could handle this? His parenting experience meant nothing; he was used to an angelic little girl, not a confused and hurt teenage boy.
When he heard the knock on the door, he tucked the flask back into his top desk drawer, picking up a PADD as he tried to look like he'd actually been attempting to work.
"It's open," he said gruffly, keeping his eyes down. "And I swear, if this is something someone else could have handled..."
"No, not really," came the reply.
McCoy looked up at Kirk, sighing and dropping the PADD back down on his desk as he watched his best friend and lover walk into the room. As the door closed behind him, Kirk made his way to the chair across the desk from McCoy's, plunking down without a word. For a moment, both men didn't speak, and when it was obvious that neither one was eager to break the awkward silence, Kirk took it upon himself to go first.
"I'm not angry that you adopted him, in case you were wondering," Kirk began, looking over at McCoy, though the attempt at eye contact wasn't returned.
"Didn't think you would be," McCoy replied, his fingers slowly drumming on the desk, eyes fixed on them as they struck out slow, deliberate rhythms. "You called me to the meeting, you had to know it was a possibility."
"Actually, no, that was just a formality," Kirk admitted. "Both you and Scotty were going to be excluded, but orders were everyone of age. Kind of funny when you think about it considering you were the only two to step up..."
Kirk trailed off with a sigh, running a hand over his hair. Normally he was a much better speaker, but Leonard McCoy was one man who could truly make him tongue tied.
"Look, you saved Chekov from ending up who knows where, you did the right thing," Kirk said, wondering if he should just leave, it was evident McCoy wasn't in a mood to chat.
"I don't know if I'd say that," McCoy said, his fingers pausing above the desk before coming to a quiet rest on the surface. "I don't think it was such a good idea."
"...so what happened in the course of a morning, or a night, whatever, that made you think that?" Kirk asked, crossing his arms as he leaned back.
McCoy shrugged, shaking his head as he brought his hand up to cover his mouth.
"We fought, he pointed out I know nothing about him," he said as he moved his hand to his chin, scratching it. It was a nervous tick, one that Kirk immediately picked up on. "I don't think I handled it well, he doesn't seem to like me much, and I can't blame him."
"Are you really surprised? Don't you remember what you were like when you were fifteen?" Kirk asked, raising an eyebrow. "I think I said that exact line to my own mother a few dozen times, and she'd been my parent for more than twelve hours."
"Jim, obviously I know it's going to take time, but it's time I don't think I have, or patience," McCoy said, finally looking at him. "I was impulsive, all I thought at the moment is that I'm a father already, so I can be one again, but I didn't think about how different it would be. Stupid, I know, but I didn't. I thought about what I would want to happen to my daughter if she was in Chekov's position, but that would never happen, would it? It's not a matter of him losing his parents, it's a matter of him being lied to and having no idea who he is right now, and he needs more support than I can give him. I'm not cut out for this."
Kirk sighed, getting out of his chair and walking over to the other side of the desk, plunking down on it in front of McCoy and holding a hand out towards him. It took a moment for McCoy to take it, and when he did, Kirk pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around him.
"Stop acting like you're in this alone," he said, giving McCoy's shoulder a squeeze before rubbing it softly. "I'm not saying the three of us should be playing happy family together, but you're not by yourself. You've got me, you can scream and bitch and rant to me all you want, I don't care. But I know you, Leonard, you give up now, and you'll hate yourself..."
In that moment, McCoy hated that Kirk understood him so well, but at the same time he knew the man had a point. If he failed Chekov and the boy had to leave the ship, he would be haunted by it.
"...Jim, I don't want to hurt him..." McCoy admitted softly. "I see myself letting him down, and I can't get that image out of my head. He's right, I don't know him, so how can I expect to do anything for him?"
"Maybe you should take a couple of days to try to, it couldn't hurt at least," Kirk suggested, his hand wandering up to stroke the back of McCoy's neck, pressing a kiss against his temple. "I don't think you ever thought this was going to be easy, you don't underestimate things like that...so what's shaken you? What happened?"
It took McCoy a moment to relax, but the neck massage soon began to work it's magic. Kirk was good at this, possibly too good.
"I guess...when I took this on, I had two things in mind," McCoy admitted, leaning his head forward and pressing it against Kirk's shoulder. "I told you that I would want someone to do the same for Joanna, and...don't you dare tell a soul, but I miss being a parent, I really do. As stupid as it sounds, I thought that...this time, no one can just..."
He licked his lips, closing his eyes.
"I'm an idiot, I'm a fucking idiot, I took on responsibility for another human being because I lost my daughter, okay? She was taken from me, I couldn't see her when I was back on Earth, and even now I can't talk to her without that bitch standing behind her, glaring at me," McCoy whispered, wrapping his arms around Kirk's waist, hands resting on the small of his back. "You say that I don't underestimate things, but this time I completely screwed up. I did something based off emotion, I didn't think rationally, and now what have I gone and done?"
"You didn't do something wrong, so stop talking like you did," Kirk said gently, rubbing slow circles on the back of McCoy's neck, tracing over his hairline. "So the first day didn't go well, that's not the end of the world, and it's not necessarily going to be how every other day is going to go. You say you did this for the wrong reasons, but Leonard, you kept Chekov on board where he belongs. It doesn't necessarily matter why you did this if something good comes from it."
"I don't know-" McCoy began.
"I do," Kirk interrupted. "Stop beating yourself up, this is nothing to feel guilty over. I'm proud of you..."
McCoy straightened up, his eyes finally meeting Kirk's for the first time since he came in. Smiling weakly, he sighed and pressed a light kiss to the Captain's lips.
"Thanks, Jim," he whispered.
"Don't mention it, you owe me though," Kirk joked, returning the kiss, taking his hand away from McCoy's neck to pat his cheek.
"Isn't the whole point of 'don't mention it' that I don't have to pay you back?" McCoy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Usually, yes, but I think you'll enjoy the payment I have in mind," Kirk grinned, winking. "I'll let you get back to work, but comm me later if you need anything. Don't suffer on your own, alright?"
"Yeah yeah..." McCoy agreed with a sigh, letting go of Kirk to plunk back down in his chair. "Get back to work yourself."
As Kirk left with a wave, McCoy leaned back in his seat, smiling to himself. He wasn't comforted, not by a long shot, and he still wasn't entirely convinced that he could do this, but he knew he wasn't alone.