Chekov (14)

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Cure
Request for: whovian3135
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"I hate Mondays," a tired male voice spoke up behind a you. You heard the door to the medbay slide shut and the sound of footsteps pass by as you turned to greet the CMO.

"Good morning Dr. McCoy!" You said energetically. He stopped walking and looked at you, shocked by your presence. Normally he was the only one up in the medical bay at this time.

"Ms. Holly! What are you doin' here?" He asked, a little harshly. You shrugged it off though, remembering that he was always grumpy, but mornings were especially awful.

"I'm working on a serum that could help repair and reproduce the tissues cells in a body. It could quicken the healing process and hopefully save a life, if I can get it to work that is," you said, pointing to the Petri dish on the table with a thick, blue liquid inside. "I was just getting some more equipment for my experiments."

McCoy looked at you, wiped his face with his hands, and grumbled, "As long as you don't hurt somebody," before practically dragging his tired self into his small office. You just shrugged and collected your things. Soon enough you were walking carefully through the white halls back to the lab, arms piled high with scientific instruments.

You spent all morning on your serum, but every attempt only ended in disaster. One time you thought for sure you had done it, but found that as soon as you attempted to pick up the glass beaker, the glass turned to putty in your gloved hands, oozing its way to the floor and releasing all the acidic liquid onto your surroundings. It took a good forty-five minutes to safely clean up the mess.

By lunch you were ready for a well deserved break. You made your way down to the mess hall, hungry and ready to forget about that stupid medicine. Grabbing your lunch, you sat down next to your friends and began to eat, occasionally stopping to laugh and join in the table's conversation. People filed in and out of the room, but you payed them no attention, until there was a sudden lapse in your tables's conversation.

"Did you here?" You're ears picked up the male voice at another other table. "There was malfunction in the engineering deck. Someone was seriously injured."

"Do you know who it was?" A female asked.

"I'm not sure. I think it was that Russian kid that works up on the bridge. Only God knows why he was down there at that time."

You stopped breathing. Chekov. Oh no.

You and Chekov had been friends ever since the first day you set foot in on the Starship. He was the same age as you, seventeen, and was more than helpful when you got lost finding the science lab on your first day. He was your closest friend, maybe something more. And to think he was seriously hurt scared you.

You quickly got up and bid your friends goodbye, before tossing the rest of your half eaten meal in the trash. You practically ran to the medbay, stopping only when you reached Doctor McCoy, who was looking at some charts. When he saw you enter, he walked over to meet you.

All you had to do was breathe out your friend's name for McCoy to understand. He motioned you over to a bed, where the Russian male lay. The right side of his head was wrapped in thick bandages, but you could still see some blood soaking through. His right arm was almost completely covered in bandages as well. You choked back a sob, covering your mouth with your hand.

"He's unconscious," McCoy said behind you. "But with his injuries I don't know if he'll ever wake up." You stayed quiet as you focused on the information. Chekov could die. And there was nothing to sav--.

You practically bolted out the door of the medbay and ran to the lab. Maybe you could save him. But first you'd have to get it to work.

You locked yourself in the lab, refusing to come out to even eat, trying to figure out what could make your serum work. Every time you failed, you just started over, the image of Chekov laying in medbay fueling your research.

Different shifts came and went. You didn't stop working. Doctors McCoy stopped by multiple times, at first to get you to rest, but them to see if he could help in any way. It was clear you weren't going to stop until you had success. Spock came by next, then the Captain himself. Apparently your current situation had been spread by mouth throughout the entire ship. You didn't care. You were too busy trying to save your best friend.

It took three days and multiple tests before you broke. You had tried every known element you had access to. Nothing had worked. Petri dishes, labeled with your different failed attempts, lined the room. You could clean them later. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back. They wouldn't help. Still, you kept going, checking and rechecking all your data.

Doctor McCoy came in the third morning with a bit of food for you. He set it beside you as you continued trying to find something, anything, that would work. Chekov was still unconscious, and his body seemed to be weakening steadily. You were running out of time. McCoy silently walked around the messy lab that was lined with your experiments, eyeing each one to see if he could figure out what you missed. Nothing came to his mind, until he spotted something.

"(Y/n), I think you may want to see this," he motioned you over. You followed, looking down at what the doctor had brought you too. The Petri dish had been left sitting in a machine. It didn't look anything different than before, but the machine read the serum as positive. It was the cure.

"Run in again," you tell McCoy, trying not to get your hopes up. After five anxious minutes, the results came back again. Positive.

You looked at the southern doctor, before breaking out in a grin. He laughed back. You had done it. You could save Chekov.

Doctor McCoy took the serum from you and left for the medbay while you stayed in the lab, eating the breakfast he had brought from you earlier. Ten minutes later you received a call. The serum worked. Chekov's injuries were healing themselves quickly.

It took five days before Chekov opened his eyes, three more after that for McCoy allowed visitors. You were naturally the first one to see him. As you walked in, he was standing up for the first time. You ran to him, engulfing him in a hug and crying with joy.

"Doctor McCoy told me vhat you did," he said to you in his adorable accent. Before you could answer him, he brought his head down to meet yours in a short, chaste kiss. "Thank you." You replied by gingerly bringing his down again to meet your lips in a longer, more emotional kiss.

"Anything for you Pasha."

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This didn't have a lot of Chekov, but it had him in the background. I hope you enjoyed it. Terribly, terribly sorry for the wait.

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⏰ Last updated: Jun 22, 2015 ⏰

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