Angels (Pavel Chekov)

11 - Breakdown

They head back to Pavel's room in relative silence. She worries about leaving him by himself after today but there's already damage across his arm from before she got to the rooftop. Pavel lies down when they get back to his room. He feels overwhelming emotional exhaustion from everything that's just happened and apologises to Vienna for being so sleepy. She feels the same sleepiness not long after he drifts off and she falls asleep on the couch, thoughts of Pavel lingering in her mind.

Vienna wakes up crying. The boy she dreams of walking along the edge of the building falls and she wakes up thinking that it's Pavel. He's already awake and trying to calm her down but she doesn't know where she is and his soft words of assurance don't seem to sink in.

He puts his hand on her cheek to try and get her to look at him. She takes a few deep breath and finally looks at him, her breath still catching in her throat. She puts her own hand on top of his and closes her eyes, finally starting to calm down a little.

"I'm sorry," she says. "You jumped. You jumped, Pavel."

"I'm here Vienna," he whispers. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I still feel exhausted," she says weakly, rubbing her eyes. Pavel suggests she goes back to sleep and she shakes her head, knowing that if she sleeps anymore she won't be able to fall asleep when she does need to go to bed. He takes the seat next to her and sighs. She asks how long he's been awake and he tells her the truth, that he only got a few minutes before she did. She asks to see his arm and he doesn't make eye contact, just staring silently at the floor.

"I don't want to show you my arm," he finally says, still not making eye contact.

"I already know what's there. I was worried you'd wake before me."

"It wasn't... I didn't when you were asleep. I was on the roof at the time Vienna, I wouldn't risk you waking up to me doing that..."

She asks to see anyway and he still doesn't oblige. She stands up and finds his medkit in the bathroom, putting it down on the table in front of him quietly. He doesn't say anything, his eyes start to water and Vienna wonders if she's being too pushy.

His sadness manifests into anger and he stands up, walking into the kitchen and trying to keep distance, even in the small space. He's crying now, even if he wipes his eyes before she gets a chance to see.

"This is what you wanted," he says softly, his hands gripping the kitchen bench. Vienna looks up at him, wondering if she's misheard. "You wanted to read that stupid journal. You wanted to know what was going on in my thoughts, how I felt. Now you know," he says, finishing his sentence with a week laugh. "Now you know exactly how I feel."

"Pavel," she says softly, not entirely sure where his sudden anger is coming from.

"I hate this! I'm not like this! I'm not angry, I'm not supposed to be getting so angry at you for something that isn't your fault! I hate this, Vienna! I just..." He breaks down then, his yells turning into sobs and his whole body sinking to the floor. She doesn't understand what's happening but she sits on the cold kitchen tiles with him and whispers his name. He keeps crying, his body loose and his sleeves covered in wet patches from his eyes. Vienna wraps her arm around his waist, the other, she uses to pull his head onto her shoulder. He rests against her, still sobbing. She digs her fingers into his springy hair and makes small circles, slowly quieting him down.

"I'm not like this," he whispers, pressing his sleeves against his eyes.

"I know you're not. I know, Pavel. Don't worry. I know you're not like this."

Pavel finally lets Vienna clean up his arm. He stays quiet. He feels like he's falling into a dark place and is just glad Vienna is by his side. They don't eat, too emotional to bother. Pavel doesn't talk for the rest of the evening, he lays on top of his bed and asks that Vienna joins him. She doesn't hesitate, lying on her stomach and turning her head to look at him. He's on his back and she wonders if that's how he normally sleeps.

She digs her fingers into his hair and notices him smiling faintly. For a few minutes, they just enjoy one another's company, quiet and almost content.

Vienna wakes up in Pavel's bed alone and she rubs her eyes, worried that she can't see Pavel. She finds him asleep on the couch. He's adorable when he sleeps, she has never thought otherwise. She sits beside him as she reads through her PADD. Ten minutes pass and he stirs, mumbling something in sleepy Russian. She smiles, asking him to repeat it.

"Hand," he mumbles, barely awake.

She takes a guess and puts her hand in his hair, smiling to herself. "Like that?"

"Da," he breathes, falling back asleep.

Pavel doesn't properly wake up for another half hour. When he does, he seems surprised that Vienna's hand is in his hair.

"I was dreaming that you were playing with my hair," he mutters. He opens his eyes a little and rubs his face.

Vienna laughs and he asks why, sitting up a little. "You were still half asleep and you told me to put my hand in your hair. You just said 'hand' and I guessed from there. I've been patting your head for half an hour."

"Oh?" He chirps, waking up a little with this information. "I'm sorry... I thought I was still dreaming, I..."

"You really enjoy having your hair played with, don't you?"

"It makes me sleepy," he mutters. "I normally don't like other people touching it but... I don't seem to mind when you do."

"Why are you on the couch? Didn't you fall asleep in the bed with me?"

He nods, yawning. "I didn't want you waking up and getting the wrong idea," he says softly. "I thought it'd be more considerate of me to sleep elsewhere."

She places her hand on his cheek, grinning at him. He tries not to smile like a total idiot but doesn't really succeed, breaking into a goofy grin.

"You're one in a million, Pavel Chekov," she says softly. "You really are."