FIC- SPN/ST:R crossover "these are the hunted" - R, AU (Part 2/?)
Title: these are the hunted (part 2 of ?)
Author: rosivan
Rating/Warnings: R, violence and fighting, AU - crossover with Supernatural
Wordcount: ~4000
Characters: Chekov/Sulu, Kirk/McCoy and others, plus SPN characters eventually.
Summary: Apocalypse is here, now. Pavel and Hikaru aren't Winchesters, but with the ragtag group of hunters they've assembled, they sure as hell will do their part in the coming war.
A/N: This chapter deals mostly with some backstory of Team McCoy, and the two teams coming to an agreement of sorts. Folklore from this chapter stems from these sources: 1 & 2
Master Post | Previous Chapter
It was Trinity Week when Uhura arrived in Russia, and she participated in many of the festivities because they seemed like fun. However, watching a birch garland sink under the lake water caused an older woman to frown in her direction, and some of the other girls to gasp as they all watched.
"It means you will die this year," the old woman said. There were no attempts at English around Uhura - she had proved herself capable in Russian, as she'd learned it as a translator. "If it sinks, soon shall you."
A few of the older girls, the less superstitious girls, scoffed when the woman walked away and told Uhura, "Don't listen to her - it's just a silly tradition."
Uhura, who was less than superstitious as well, laughed and said, "All right," And didn't think too much about it.
It had been her first trip to Sankt-Peterburg and it had almost been her last.
-
"Please, don't go with them."
Uhura turned away from the tour group to look at the young man with a surprisingly strong grip on her elbow. His bright eyes seemed earnest in his request, even though he nervously held her gaze. "Please," he repeated, "Don't bathe in the water tonight." His hand lingered by her arm, but did not make contact.
Uhura smiled and casually pulled away from him. He was attractive, no doubt, but way too young for her to even consider being interested. "Sorry, I'm taken," she said, thinking to let him down easy, just because he was so polite.
The young man blinked, and then blushed deeply. "I'm sorry - I'm not trying to ask you out. Not that it would be a bad idea or anything, but." He winced, and Uhura bit back a laugh. "Ah, I mean, it's dangerous - the lake and the forest is dangerous this time of year."
"There are other groups already out there," Uhura said. She patted him on the arm. "Besides, if it really were dangerous, would they be taking us out there, and would you be telling random girls instead of the police?" She shook her head. "Thanks anyway."
The younger man opened his mouth to say something more, but then rethought and watched her go silently. Uhura had almost caught up with the rest of her group when his hand on her elbow stopped her again.
"Listen," Uhura started to say, shooting him a warning glance. "I get that you-"
He pushed something into her hand and then took an obvious step backwards. His face was half-hidden under the longish curls of his hair, but the shape of his mouth was hesitant. "I didn't mean to upset you. Please wear this festival charm - it'll bring you luck."
"Sure, fine," she said dismissively. The young man nodded and headed back to the village, taking the winding path instead of the short cut the bathing groups had made through the field. Uhura looked at the object he had handed her - it was a silver barrette, with a long frond of fern woven around it. It was quite nice, really, and it seemed harmless and rural. She pinned it to her hair and went to rejoin her group, forgetting about it in moments.
The young man found her again two hours later, alone in the water of the lake with only her soaked dress slip on. When an eerie singing had drifted across the water, Uhura had watched in horror as the two men who'd been acting as their guides had willingly walked out into the depths and disappeared. The other girls in the group had vanished into the water screaming, pulled down in the shallows even as they tried to help one another. Of a group of eighteen only Uhura remained; she'd been left untouched.
The young Russian man who'd warned her away from the lake pulled Uhura to her feet and dragged her away from the water's edge. "Hurry, we gotta go."
"Who are you?" Uhura asked, forgetting to speak in Russian. "How did you know, what were they?"
He replied, as if he didn't hear her, "Hurry, please. I'll explain when we're far from here."
Uhura fought against him, panicked and afraid, but the singing from the water had started again; she looked at him to see if he'd walk into the water too. He only gripped her arms tightly and repeated over and over again, "Please, we have to go - please!" The terror in his eyes matched the feeling in her chest and Uhura stilled. She decided that if it were a choice between unseen creatures snatching people into the lake, and a mysterious teenager who had warned her from the beginning, she'd take her chances with him. She thought of the old woman, and the birch garland, and the woven wood sinking beneath the water.
The young man clamped an arm around her shoulders and propelled her down the rocky path, surprisingly strong. When Uhura tried to nudge him into walking through the shorter path of the field, the young Russian shook his head at her. "They can walk in the grass tonight. We'll have to take the long way around."
The singing around them was loud and Uhura could see a flicker of movement in the field - an unnatural bend of the grass that had nothing to do with the wind. A face peered out from the tall grass, suddenly, and Uhura bit back a surprised scream. The young man holding her to his side glanced at her, and then to where she was staring, before swearing loudly. The creature in the grass was a woman - hauntingly beautiful, with long hair and glassy eyes. She dripped water as if she'd just climbed out of the lake.
The young man jerked them away from the creature's outstretched arm and pushed Uhura down the path. "Run!" Uhura did, glancing back only once to make sure that the Russian was following. He kept up with her easily; his long stride and even breaths suggested that he ran regularly. "Go!" He said, "Go, go!"
"Go where?" Uhura demanded, but he didn't answer. They raced up the gravel path and back into the city. Only after they'd gone through several streets and Uhura couldn't hear the singing anymore, did she stop, leaning against the side of a shadowy building to catch her breath.
The young man leaned against the wall beside her, watching the way they'd come.
"Who are you?" Uhura asked after a moment. He didn't say anything. "Hey," she said, and he didn't acknowledge her. She reached out to swat him on the arm, and his gaze ripped around to stare at her. "Who are you?"
He blinked and looked confused for a moment. Understanding then passed across his face, and he pulled something from his ears - earplugs, made of bright orange foam. "Sorry. I forgot. What did you say?"
Uhura wondered if the plugs had been to guard against the singing - how had he known? "Who are you? What were…what happened back there?"
The Russian's mouth twitched in a sombre half-smile that made him seem somehow older than he was. "The rusalki took those men and women. It's folklore around here, but…" He hesitated. "I did try to warn you."
"Yeah," Uhura muttered, "I remember. I can't believe they're real, these 'rusalki'. I must be going crazy..."
"My name is Pavel Andreievich Chekov," the young Russian man said. He leaned his shoulder against Uhura's and said softly, "Trust me, you're not crazy."
-
The protective fern barrette was kept safely in a box somewhere, because even though they protected against the Rusalki - a type of Russian water spirit - it protected against little else. Uhura thought of the small trinket for the first time in a long time, and wished for something that would ward against demons.
Because currently, they were fucked.
Pavel was pale under his freckles and fair skin, pressed against her side from shoulder to knee. McCoy was a few feet away, within arms reach of Pavel, and the three of them were lying on their stomachs under the front porch of an empty house. They hadn't know the house would be empty when they'd shown up to check details on a haunting case, and now they were paying for trusting easily acquired information.
"We'd just like to talk," the demon's leader yelled lazily. He and his people wandered idly around the yard, despite it being glaringly obvious that there were very few places for the group of them to hide. "See, you killed a friend of ours and, quite frankly, that hurts. Come chat with us for a bit."
"We're in over our heads, kids," McCoy murmured lowly. He had his gun trained on the kneecaps of the lead demon, even though a bullet would do little damage against him. Uhura cringed slightly at how loud McCoy sounded, and wished she'd taken the time to each him sign language.
"We could call them," Pavel whispered. His cell phone was clenched in his offhand, the top flipped open and glowing lowly. "They said we could call." His voice was steady, but nervous in a way that had everything to do with his choice of words.
McCoy found it difficult to read someone without the aid of body language, sometimes, but where Uhura was concerned, it was all about language; the things that were said were just as important as how they were expressed. In the time she had spent with Pavel and McCoy, she had come to understand their verbal cues - the way they felt in the way they arranged their words. It came in handy in difficult situations, especially where enemies would be looking for some sort of code.
"Call who?" McCoy muttered. He shifted closer to Pavel, still watching the demons in the yard. They were circling around them, clearly aware of where they were. The demons were simply playing.
Pavel carefully pressed a series of numbers into his phone- the keys were already set on silent, but he seemed to wince at each small 'click' of the buttons. "Sulu and his group. He gave me their number."
"Thought you didn't take it," McCoy remarked. The three of them watched a pair of dark leather boots move right up to the steps, before turning and walking away. McCoy gritted his teeth.
"I saw it, though," Pavel said, his voice even quieter than before. "I looked, just in case." He had a memory for details, especially in regards to numbers and science, and it was impressive enough that Uhura thought it was a shame he didn't want to go to college. The kid was practically a genius - and only practically, because he hadn't been tested and officially declared one.
"Nothin' they can do for us now," McCoy said. "We'd still be outnumbered. Who knows were they are, anyway."
Uhura said, "Maybe we just need a distraction." The car wasn't far away - it was a lot closer than some of the demons were.
"She's not up to a road chase," McCoy answered, knowing what she was leading up to. He meant the car they were driving, when he said 'she'. They had to abandon their previous vehicle after an incident involving a security camera, and the old car they currently had was little more than a rust bucket. Everything rattled, the tires were lousy on grid roads, and the noise from the engine seemed to be a language in its own.
"Well, we gotta do something," Uhura said. "We split - go get the car, swing back for me."
"No," Pavel interrupted. "I'm faster runner, let me distract."
"Can't always be the bait, Pavel," Uhura muttered.
He shrugged and then smiled at her. "I'll stop being bait when I stop being fastest."
McCoy rubbed his hand across his chin and then decided, "Let's do this before I remember just how supremely stupid it is." Pavel started shifting backwards under the porch, angling his body so he could make a break towards the side door of the house.
"Wait till I go," Pavel said. "One…two…"
"Did you feel that?" One of the demons said suddenly. McCoy's arm reached out behind him to grab Pavel by the ankle, just as the younger man was about to leap out into the yard.
McCoy was frowning, but not because he was annoyed. "Wait a sec." His fingers tightened on the leather of Pavel's boot as the foot kicked at him and McCoy hissed, "Wait."
Across the yard, another demon spoke, "Yeah…man, that feels like…" He laughed, and then the rest of the demons slowly joined in.
"Shit," said Uhura. A glance at McCoy's face told her he had thought the same thing she did; it sounded like something else was coming.
"Going now," Pavel announced lowly. He jerked his foot from McCoy's hand and burst out from under the porch, running.
"Goddammit!" McCoy swore, and in unison he and Uhura rolled out from under their cover, making a break for the car.
The demons' laughter cut off as the three hunters rushed out of hiding. Pavel was around the corner of the house before the demons could react, and Uhura dove under the reaching arms of a demon in a blue denim jacket. She rolled to her feet and kept on going, swinging open the car door into a female demon's belly and sliding into the driver's seat. "C'mon, McCoy!"
McCoy shot the first demon in his way with both barrels of his shotgun and spun out with a strong kick to his mid-section to knock him into the demon behind him. A demon wearing a baseball cap snaked an arm around McCoy's neck and yanked him backwards, choking him. Instead of fighting him, McCoy moved into the pull, and used his weight to send them both falling backwards into the dirt.
"Go!" He yelled to Uhura, having tumbled free from the choke hold. "Get the kid!" McCoy drew a hunting knife from his satchel and abandoned his empty shotgun as the demon he fell on tried to grip him again. Another demon stood over them. "Go!"
The remaining demons surrounded the car. The leader was one and he smiled at her through the driver's window. "It's your lucky day," he drawled and winked one dark eye at her. "Boss just clocked in, and I've been looking too forward to cutting you up to rush it like this."
"Fuck you," Uhura said and stomped on the gas. The tires spun, kicking up a cloud of black dirt, and she mowed through the two demons standing in front of the car. They rolled over the hood and off the back, and Uhura pulled a very sharp turn to crash into the demon standing over McCoy. "Come on," She roared, through the passenger window.
There was a noise all at once, like screaming and a strong gust of wind. The dirt that had been airborne in the yard was blown aside as the human bodies housing the demons all suddenly emptied. Abruptly, the bodies dropped to the dirt and commotion in the yard stilled until all that could be heard was the rackety sound of the car engine idling, and McCoy swearing loudly as he pushed bodies off him.
"Pavel," he shouted, momentarily unconcerned with what just happened. "Pavel!" Uhura swung out of the car to help McCoy stand, and was close enough to see relief flood his expression when Pavel peered around the corner of the house.
"Clear?" The Russian asked warily, eyeing them over the top of his raised gun. He held his salt canister, open, in his other hand. The edge of a salt circle was just visible at his feet.
McCoy's mouth twitched, like he was suppressing the urge to laugh. "Yeah," he said hoarsely, "Clear." He pulled away from Uhura's steadying grip and examined the bodies on the ground around them.
"What just happened?" Pavel wondered aloud as he walked over to join them.
McCoy's mouth was drawn in a tight line as he stood. He reached out a hand to tightly grip Pavel's shoulder, and when Uhura looked at them, she could almost feel it herself. McCoy looked tired, and worried. "Fuck if I know."
-
It was another dingy motel in off the side of the highway, somewhere in Utah. Spock was out getting food, or what passed for food, leaving Jim and Hikaru watching the news. A soft beeping pulled Hikaru's attention away from the television, and he squinted at the unfamiliar number calling on his cell phone. Nonetheless, he flicked the top open and pressed the receiver to his ear.
"Yeah?" Hikaru asked.
"Sulu, hello." The voice was distinct enough that Hikaru didn't have to ask who it was.
"Chekov," he said with mild surprise, "How did you get this number?"
"You gave it to me, on the paper."
Considering Hikaru had burned the paper with the number written on it, he was a little confused. "You didn't take it, though."
Jim Kirk looked away from the television set to glance at Hikaru. He squinted in his direction, considering what he heard and asked, "That the Russian kid?" Hikaru nodded. Despite what some individuals might think of him, Jim Kirk was surprisingly insightful, especially when it came to people. "What does he want?"
"I did not need to," Chekov said about having the paper, and changed the subject. "You've been watching the news?"
Hikaru stood from his chair and then sat heavily on the bed beside Jim, angling his cell phone so that they both could hear. Jim moved closer until they were practically cheek to cheek. "How can we not?" Hikaru said, "It's fucking unbelievable out there."
"We were cornered by many demons yesterday. Something happened to make them go away."
"What do you mean 'something'?"
"We do not know. They felt something happen and went to it. They laughed."
There was something in Chekov's voice that made Hikaru pause. It prompted him to ask, "Are you guys all right?" He caught himself at the last moment, and changed from a far too specific concern to something more generalized. Something less personal.
"Yes." Chekov said shortly. He paused, and Sulu could hear indistinct voices in the background. "We…would like to know if you would consider working together. Trial basis, of course."
"Of course," Hikaru repeated thoughtfully, and Jim interrupted him.
"Lemme talk to the old man," Jim said, none too politely. Hikaru groaned, shaking his head. Jim took the phone from him, still keeping it between them so Hikaru could hear.
"What?" Chekov asked. "Who is this?"
"Jim Kirk. Hi there, Chekov. Let me talk to McCoy." Hikaru raised an eyebrow, asking what he was doing. Jim shrugged one shoulder, which meant 'don't worry about it'.
The door to the room opened carefully, and Spock slipped in, carrying a bag of food. He raised an eyebrow at the both of them, but did not question out loud; he could see they were on the phone.
"Why do you wish to speak with him?" Chekov asked.
Jim's attention went back the call. "Leader to leader, so to say."
"You make assumptions," Chekov said evenly. "I did not call to speak to you."
Jim grinned and mouthed to Hikaru - 'I like this kid'. Out loud he said, "Well, if you want to work with us, you're going to have to learn to speak with me."
"A moment, please." There was a stretch of silence, and the scratchy sound of Chekov's phone being pressed, likely, to the front of his shirt. Hikaru could make out the low rumble of McCoy complaining. There was some assorted noise, and then the sound of the cell phone being handed over.
"What."
"That's no way to say hello," Jim said pleasantly. "You'll make a guy feel unwanted." Hikaru sighed quietly and left Jim with his phone. He went over to Spock and poked through the bag, filling him in on the details as he did so.
McCoy's voice was more than a little exasperated. "I knew this was going to be more pain than it's worth… What do you want, Kirk?"
"Call me Jim." The line was suddenly silent and Kirk moved on. "We'll work on that. Anyway, sure, we'll work together, but that means we're going to have to talk things through and agree on stuff before implementing got it? This isn't a two-team go at something, were we work the same case but go our own ways - if we're going to work together, we're going to work together, all right?"
"Fine, whatever. That all you wanted to say? Could have told Chekov that."
"I just wanted to hear your voice, old man."
"Whatever, kid." There was no goodbye, and the phone was handed back to Chekov.
"We have agreement? If you give your position, we will meet you."
"Yeah," Kirk said, all interest lost now that he had talked to McCoy like he wanted, "Here's Sulu." He waved the phone a Hikaru, who handed Jim a sub sandwich and took his cell back.
"Hey, sorry," Hikaru said, around a mouthful of salad. He balanced his phone on his shoulder and sat down in his chair again. "Got something to write with? I'll give you directions."
"All right," Chekov said. Hikaru relayed an address and directions to their motel from the closest town.
"See you when you get here, then," Hikaru said. Then, before the other man could reply, he added, "Dasvidaniye, Chekov." The abrupt silence on the other end of the line was long enough for Hikaru to be a little concerned about whether he'd said it correctly.
When Chekov spoke, he sounded amused, and Hikaru knew he had pronounced it wrong. Just how wrong was made painfully clear when Chekov repeated, "Dasvidaniye," in return. Hikaru could swear he hear laughter just before Chekov hung up. Hikaru swore lightly to himself and speared a chunk of chicken in his salad.
After inspecting his all-veggie wrap and finding it acceptable, Spock turned to Jim. "I should point out," Spock said, "That this might very well be a trap. They did not seem so inclined to join forces the last time we met."
"Last time we met, the old man shot me," Kirk said. A slice of pepperoni slipped from his sandwich and dropped onto the flower-pattern bedspread. Despite Hikaru's expression of disgust, Kirk picked up the cold cut and stuffed it back in the sub. "He was probably feeling the guilt of a thousand men or something," Kirk shrugged and bit into his food. "You didn't see his face when he realized I wasn't a demon."
"I find it unlikely that was what deterred them from joining forces with us," Spock said and a slight frown. "They made significant efforts not to reveal any personal information to us. Also, I was under the impression that they did not take the number that Sulu offered."
"Well," Hikaru said at length, "He did look at it. Could have a photographic memory or something. And if it's a trap, why wouldn't they have killed us at the house?"
"And, would did the old man patch me up?" Kirk asked. He crumpled the wrapper from his sandwich into a ball and tossed it into the waste basket by the television. "We're not the fucking Winchesters or anything - we're just regular run-of-the-mill hunters. We don't have anything special on our side."
Spock considered things for a moment. "Perhaps their motives are truly pure, but I suggest we proceed carefully until the reasoning behind their change of heart is revealed."
"Chekov said they were cornered by a group of demons," Sulu pointed out. "Could have brought them to their senses, being outnumbered like that."
"It would be just as likely," Spock countered, "That when they were cornered by said demons, they were overpowered and possessed. With their knowledge, the demons would then decide to pursue us as well."
"Well," Kirk said, "They're coming here, which means we have the lay of the land so to speak. We’ll just…take some precautions." He grinned over at Hikaru.
Hikaru sighed.
to part three