CHapter 1: The Nightmare
The angry shout was heard echoing throughout the house as a young Pavel cringed in fear. Instead of answering however, the ten year old just sat on his bed trembling in fear. The shout had come from Pavel's dad, who was a notorious alcoholic whom everybody in the Chekov household feared. Pavel heard his dad screaming his name again, but this time, he sounded a lot closer.
Suddenly, the young Russian's door smashed open revealing a drunken Mr. Chekov who displayed the eyes of a sadist.
"Vhy didn't you answer me boy!?!?!"
Mr. Chekov asked in a slurred voice, moving forward. This only caused the ten year old to cringe and press himself further into his bedroom wall, trying, in vain, to disappear. This however only angered his father even more. Throwing his half empty beer bottle at the frightened boy, he growled when it didn't do much damage. He made a sudden lunge for his son and, within seconds he was on top of his son, throwing punch after punch.
"NO! NO, P-PL-PLEASE ST-STOP DAD!"
Pavel begged as the beatings rained down on his already heavily bruised body. The begging only fell on deaf ears and Pavel started to sob violently. Suddenly, it stopped. There was no more beating. Taking a chance, Pavel removed his hands from his face and glanced up hesitantly. He was met with the harsh malicious eyes of his abuser.
"You know vhat?" the drunken man asked. "I don't think that you are receiving the right kind of punishment."
Mr. Chekov was now smirking sadistically as he reached for the child's pants. Pavel, now completely and utterly terrified, started fighting back with what little energy he had left, though he knew it was in vain. He chanced a glance up at his father and was in time to see the older man's fist hurtling towards his face. Everything went black.
A seventeen year old Pavel Chekov woke up screaming. His slender body was covered in a cold sweat as he looked around for any signs of the threat from his nightmares. After surveying his room several times he slowly started to relax as his body stopped trembling.
"V-Vhy am I ha-h-hawing zese nightm-mares again? It has be-been z-zr-zree years."
He started trembling once more as he heard the door opening and someone walking towards him. He started to whimper as his previously held back tears cascaded down his cheeks. There were a few moments of silence where Pavel wondered if he had just been hearing things until he felt a pair of arms circle around him, pulling him close. The young Russian was tense at first, but when he received no beating like he had expected, he started to relax once more.
"Shhhhhh. It's ok, Pasha. It's ok. You're safe."
Pavel gasped. 'Hikaru?' He felt one of his friends hands start to rub soothing circles up and down his back as the other hand stroked his curly hair. Slowly, Chekov relaxed into his friends arms as the sobs slowed down to the occasional sniffle. After a few more minutes, he felt Sulu pull back. Chekov glanced up and was met with his friend's concerned eyes. Just one glance at Sulu's face and the young Russian knew he wanted bad to find out what was wrong and was grateful when the Asian did not press him for answers. Even though they had only known each other for a few months, they both knew each other as if they had been best friends their whole lives. Sulu knew when was the right time to make Chekov talk, but he also knew when to let it go which would be right now, but he gave his friend a look that said, "We'll talk about this later."
The older of the two waited until his friend had calmed down completely, before laying him back down gently while pulling the covers over him. As Sulu turned to leave he felt something grasp his wrist weakly. He turned and saw Chekov looking up at him with pleading eyes.
"Pl-please stay" he asked with a slight tremble to his voice.
Sulu smiled gently down at him. How could he say no to that look? He crawled into Chekov's bed with him and once he was settled, he once more wrapped his arms around the Russian. As sleep started to overcome Chekov, he whispered a silent thanks to Sulu.
"Anytime, Pasha, anytime."
With that Sulu planted a kiss on the younger man's forehead and finally let sleep capture him for the second time that night.
The cell that the dark and sinister figure sat in was eerily silent. The man sat thinking over his plan once more. He had been waiting for his chance for revenge for over three years. Everything seemed to be in order. He smirked evilly as he once again took out a small folded piece of paper from his prison uniform's pocket. As he unfolded the paper and glanced at its contents, the smirk increased.
"Oh yes" he muttered to himself. "It vill not belong now."