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Hold Me >> Pavel Chekov X Reader

Title: Hold Me

Paring: Pavel Chekov X Reader

Warnings: Anton Yelchin has passed away. This fic is in memory of our beloved Chekov. 

Spoilers: none. 

Author's note: I hope the requester of this enjoys it! I love Chekov so much, and I was devastated hearing about his passing. Live long and prosper, Anton. 

I used Russian in this, from Google translate. My Russian readers: if I've gotten any wording/phrases wrong, I appreciate criticism on the language! 

лепесток - petal

мое сердце - my heart

обещаю - I promise

держи меня - hold me

Я никогда тебя не оставлю. - I'll never leave you

____________________________________________________________________________________

There's a dark room. The lights flicker, despite the fact that the dark room is a part of the engineering wing. Half the ship is; there's no sense lying about it. But the room, it's...eerie. Like the seconds before a toaster frightens the toast-awaiting breakfast eater.

For a moment, it's just quiet. Then,

A familiar head of curls pops up from under the shelving. The familiar head that has always been something you have been fond of, since you had first lain eyes on the owner of such beautiful locks.

Chekov.

For some reason, though, he was running - running from something which was chasing him. A shadow, hulking and large, and under the inconsistent iridescent glow, the shadow became whole. An alien figure, the size of Dr McCoy, twice. As if he was standing on his own shoulders. But the monster, it wasn't a McCoy-shaped one: it was alien. And it was angry.

It was then, and only then you realised. Chekov, was running away, escaping its clutches. His porcelain face was puckered in concentration, stained with exertion. He was trying so hard, running so fast -

In leap after bound, the beast was nearing, closing in fast. And then -

You wake quickly, but not before you're out of the bed and halfway across the room. Your breath is heavy, eyes wide, heart racing. At once, the lamp beside the bed lights up, the lamp on the other side of the bed.

"лепесток?" Chekov's eyes are heavy with sleep, but fixed onto you, they are also heavy with worry. He yawns - wide, like a lion lazing around its pride lands - and asks again, this time in the common tongue, "my flower, vat is vong?"

You shake your head.

Slowly, Pavel moves to stand. You are still, swaying from the sudden movements, but your eyes are trained on your boyfriend. How was it that your same eyes, they had seen him in such a horrible place? Why hadn't you gone to help him escape from that death vision?

But instead of continuing to ponder upon the great unknowns, you watch him. How he smiles as he rises, almost reflexively. The way sleep has dimpled his cheeks with shallow prints of the sheets, the way it has rumpled his dark curls.

"мое сердце, my love," Pavel crosses to where you sway. He stands before you, eyes gazing into yours. Your boyfriend is so close, you can see a reflection of yourself in his iris. "You can tell me anyving, you know? Vas it a - a bad dream?"

You nod.

Arms wrap around you in a hug. For a moment, all is good. You have your boyfriend, your love, your life in your arms. His scent filling your nose, his breath hot on your neck. But -

The monster is almost there, so close to him - it slashes his canary coloured shirt with its claws. Blood -

"Petal?" Pavel releases you, and holds your head in his hands. "Stay with me. All will be alright, I promise."

A tear slips through your eyelashes. "I had a dream that you died, Pavel. There was a horrible monster, an alien, and it was chasing you!"

You press your head into his neck.

"Oh лепесток," Pavel Chekov sighs. A hand rises, smoothening your rumpled pyjamas, snaking its way through your hair. "It vas onlv a dream, there is no alien, and I am right here."

You choke back tears. "It felt so real."

He holds you to his chest, and only then do you hear it. The rhythm of Pavel's heart beats along, steady in your ear, a pace to set your breaths to. There is another steady beat, something rhythmic and calming just like the heart of the man you love.

"Shhhhh," Pavel whispers. "Я никогда тебя не оставлю. That I promise. Shhhhh, Petal, I will protect you." he hums, barely above a whisper. It is a mantra, repeated over and over again. He keeps on saying these words, and more Russian you can't remember the meaning of, and before you know it, your hyperventilating heart has calmed down to its regular pace. 

"Pavel?" you murmur. 

He retracts from the embrace. "My heart, my love - it was only a dream." 

You nod. "I'm so glad you're alive. You have no -," your breath is caught and chest heaves and brain whirls at the words that will spill from your mouth like milk, "no idea what it would be, what it would feel like, to be without you." your hands clutch his, with almost a sense of urgency, you add quickly, "How do I ask you to hold me?"

Chekov's face brightens, and he lays a kiss to your forehead. 

"You vold say to me, держи меня?"His eyes search yours, and finding what he desires - you, in all honesty; there is no other in the world for him but you - he leads you to the bed, to your side. 

"Erzhi menya? Pavel?" you ask.

He nods. "обещаю, my sveet лепесток." Before you know it, you've reached your side, and Pavel sweeps you from your feet and lays you, like a new bride or a newborn, into the cooled covers once more. "Я никогда тебя не оставлю." 

The light switches off, just as the bed dips with your boyfriend's mass returning beside you.

"Do you promise, Chekov?" you whisper. 

"For ever and eternity. I'll always be beside you."