Your Broken Cartography: Coda
Fandom: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series
Rating: FRT, for language.
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu
Length: ~750 words
Summary: Coda to Your Broken Cartography. Pavel wakes up.
Pavel wakes up slowly: with soft exhales and gentle twitches of his fingers and a low, distressed moan from the back of his throat.
Hikaru sits on the edge of his chair, watching every small expression that ghosts over Pavel’s face. He holds Pavel’s hand and sweeps his thumb over the ridges of his knuckles. He brushes the hair back from Pavel’s forehead, and smoothes out the creases that appear on his brow. He presses a chaste kiss to Pavel’s cheek, and murmurs a constant stream of platitudes against his ear, and coaxes him back into the waking world with every gentle thing he knows.
It’s over. You’re okay, now. I love you. Wake up for me, Pavel, please.
When Pavel finally opens his eyes, they’re startlingly blue.
Hikaru wants to be strong for him, and bravely reassuring, but he can’t help the wet sob that breaks out of his chest. Because he’d forgotten how blue Pavel’s eyes could be. He’d forgotten Pavel’s eyes, and he was minutes-maybe seconds-from never knowing ever, ever again.
Pavel stares up at Hikaru and smiles with such easy, happy certainty, and it’s an acid wash of grief over Hikaru, but it burns so good. Because he’s a freaking miracle. Because he’s the most precious thing in all the universe.
Hikaru laughs-once, bright and surprised and sharp-and it’s not that much different from a sob, but it feels like letting go of a breath he’s been holding onto since Mathis’s first shout had reached the Enterprise. He raises Pavel’s hand to his cheek, and has to squeeze his eyes shut at the feel of Pavel’s fingers flexing there, alive and awake and real.
It’s real. This is real.
“Pavel,” he breathes.
Pavel’s thumb sweeps across Hikaru’s cheek, and Hikaru turns his head to kiss Pavel’s palm and smell his skin. He squeezes Pavel’s fingers ever so gently. Pavel watches all this sadly, his eyebrows pinching together just a touch, and Hikaru wants to smother him in kisses until he stops looking sorry.
“You’re alive,” he says, shaking his head firmly. “You’re alive, and that’s all that matters, okay? You’re alive.”
Pavel makes a wounded sound and pulls at him, and Hikaru follows, leaning down to cradle Pavel’s face in his hands and press warm kisses to his nose and eyes and cheeks.
Doctor McCoy clears his throat. He’s standing at the foot of the bed and scowling down at Pavel-though Hikaru thinks he looks just a little bit pleased. “Well damn, kid. It’d be really great if you could not do that to me ever again.”
Pavel swallows stiffly, and smiles.
After Pavel’s been thoroughly checked over by McCoy, and given several hypospray to boost his recovery, he and Hikaru are allowed to sit together in privacy again. They don’t talk about anything important for a while: Pavel lamenting the days of sick leave he’s going to be required to take and how bored he will be, and Hikaru discussing the newest samples in the xenobotany lab.
When they’ve exhausted themselves with the mundane, Pavel squeezes Hikaru’s hand and looks up at him. “Do you want to hear something wonderful?”
Hikaru searches Pavel’s face, and it doesn’t look like there’s something wonderful waiting for him there; it looks bittersweet, just this side of sorrowful. But Pavel’s eyes are wide, and clear, and Hikaru hears himself pleading over Pavel’s unconscious body, Show me how to see the universe like you do. So he says, “Sure.”
“The shuttle the Keptin sent to rescue us-that was you flying, yes?”
Hikaru lets out a shuddering breath. “Yeah.” It’s still too soon, still too real in his memory. He doesn’t want to think about it. But he nods. “Yeah, that was me.”
“I don’t think I remember it. Maybe just for a moment, rolling my head and seeing you, your elbow, your hand? It’s hard to know for sure. I was so cold, then, and tired. But on the ground, before. I kept thinking: ‘He has to fly straight.’ It was so hard to breathe, and I couldn’t speak, and...” Pavel trails off. He presses a hand to his chest, feeling the myriad bandages there, the healing wounds that will become scars on his flawless skin. He shakes his head, trying to clear out a memory. “But I kept thinking, ‘He has to fly straight. Straight up. It is the most direct path.’”
Pavel rolls his head toward Hikaru, and smiles.
“And you did. You heard me.”
Hikaru combs his fingers through Pavel’s curls, just feeling this moment out. He and Pavel-they’re so much greater than the sum of their parts, so much stronger together. He doesn’t ever want to have to do this alone.
He swallows. “You’re my Navigator, Pavel.” You’re my Navigator. “You know you just have to tell me where to go and I’ll get you there.”
CREDIT: This was written for an anonymous prompt request. "Coda to 'Your Broken Cartography.' Chekov wakes up and Sulu fusses over him. Because that hurt needed some comfort." Except it's more like Chekov fussing over Sulu, 'cause let's be honest, which one of them needed more comfort in that moment?
Rating: FRT, for language.
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu
Length: ~750 words
Summary: Coda to Your Broken Cartography. Pavel wakes up.
Pavel wakes up slowly: with soft exhales and gentle twitches of his fingers and a low, distressed moan from the back of his throat.
Hikaru sits on the edge of his chair, watching every small expression that ghosts over Pavel’s face. He holds Pavel’s hand and sweeps his thumb over the ridges of his knuckles. He brushes the hair back from Pavel’s forehead, and smoothes out the creases that appear on his brow. He presses a chaste kiss to Pavel’s cheek, and murmurs a constant stream of platitudes against his ear, and coaxes him back into the waking world with every gentle thing he knows.
It’s over. You’re okay, now. I love you. Wake up for me, Pavel, please.
When Pavel finally opens his eyes, they’re startlingly blue.
Hikaru wants to be strong for him, and bravely reassuring, but he can’t help the wet sob that breaks out of his chest. Because he’d forgotten how blue Pavel’s eyes could be. He’d forgotten Pavel’s eyes, and he was minutes-maybe seconds-from never knowing ever, ever again.
Pavel stares up at Hikaru and smiles with such easy, happy certainty, and it’s an acid wash of grief over Hikaru, but it burns so good. Because he’s a freaking miracle. Because he’s the most precious thing in all the universe.
Hikaru laughs-once, bright and surprised and sharp-and it’s not that much different from a sob, but it feels like letting go of a breath he’s been holding onto since Mathis’s first shout had reached the Enterprise. He raises Pavel’s hand to his cheek, and has to squeeze his eyes shut at the feel of Pavel’s fingers flexing there, alive and awake and real.
It’s real. This is real.
“Pavel,” he breathes.
Pavel’s thumb sweeps across Hikaru’s cheek, and Hikaru turns his head to kiss Pavel’s palm and smell his skin. He squeezes Pavel’s fingers ever so gently. Pavel watches all this sadly, his eyebrows pinching together just a touch, and Hikaru wants to smother him in kisses until he stops looking sorry.
“You’re alive,” he says, shaking his head firmly. “You’re alive, and that’s all that matters, okay? You’re alive.”
Pavel makes a wounded sound and pulls at him, and Hikaru follows, leaning down to cradle Pavel’s face in his hands and press warm kisses to his nose and eyes and cheeks.
Doctor McCoy clears his throat. He’s standing at the foot of the bed and scowling down at Pavel-though Hikaru thinks he looks just a little bit pleased. “Well damn, kid. It’d be really great if you could not do that to me ever again.”
Pavel swallows stiffly, and smiles.
After Pavel’s been thoroughly checked over by McCoy, and given several hypospray to boost his recovery, he and Hikaru are allowed to sit together in privacy again. They don’t talk about anything important for a while: Pavel lamenting the days of sick leave he’s going to be required to take and how bored he will be, and Hikaru discussing the newest samples in the xenobotany lab.
When they’ve exhausted themselves with the mundane, Pavel squeezes Hikaru’s hand and looks up at him. “Do you want to hear something wonderful?”
Hikaru searches Pavel’s face, and it doesn’t look like there’s something wonderful waiting for him there; it looks bittersweet, just this side of sorrowful. But Pavel’s eyes are wide, and clear, and Hikaru hears himself pleading over Pavel’s unconscious body, Show me how to see the universe like you do. So he says, “Sure.”
“The shuttle the Keptin sent to rescue us-that was you flying, yes?”
Hikaru lets out a shuddering breath. “Yeah.” It’s still too soon, still too real in his memory. He doesn’t want to think about it. But he nods. “Yeah, that was me.”
“I don’t think I remember it. Maybe just for a moment, rolling my head and seeing you, your elbow, your hand? It’s hard to know for sure. I was so cold, then, and tired. But on the ground, before. I kept thinking: ‘He has to fly straight.’ It was so hard to breathe, and I couldn’t speak, and...” Pavel trails off. He presses a hand to his chest, feeling the myriad bandages there, the healing wounds that will become scars on his flawless skin. He shakes his head, trying to clear out a memory. “But I kept thinking, ‘He has to fly straight. Straight up. It is the most direct path.’”
Pavel rolls his head toward Hikaru, and smiles.
“And you did. You heard me.”
Hikaru combs his fingers through Pavel’s curls, just feeling this moment out. He and Pavel-they’re so much greater than the sum of their parts, so much stronger together. He doesn’t ever want to have to do this alone.
He swallows. “You’re my Navigator, Pavel.” You’re my Navigator. “You know you just have to tell me where to go and I’ll get you there.”
CREDIT: This was written for an anonymous prompt request. "Coda to 'Your Broken Cartography.' Chekov wakes up and Sulu fusses over him. Because that hurt needed some comfort." Except it's more like Chekov fussing over Sulu, 'cause let's be honest, which one of them needed more comfort in that moment?