Fandom: Star Trek 2009

Title: Exam Room 3: Heroes

Characters/pairings: McCoy, Chekov, Chapel centric

Rating: M

Words: 2,238

Disclaimer: I don't own ST09

Author's note: This story focuses on McCoy, Chekov and Chapel. Exam Rooms is a series of short stories that examines McCoy's character while he treats colleagues and friends aboard the newly launched Enterprise.

Summary: Chekov is wounded in a violent attack and McCoy is forced to rethink what it means to be a hero.

Exam Room 3: Heroes

The music at the pleasure club thumped and pounded as the lightly clad bodies on the dance floor twisted and gyrated to a mix of ancient Congo earth rhythms and Aldean voice-pulse rap. Beams of blue, violet and white light swirled across the dancers' sweaty bodies educing them into a hypnotic, sexual rhumba more decadent of a Bacchanalian orgy than a federation approved party club.

McCoy sipped his bourbon with an air of disdain and curiosity from a table in the corner. He was too mature to participate in the body shaking ministrations of these youths, but damn, if he didn't enjoy watching. The doctor was an experienced voyeur, his eyes meticulously licking up ever fluid motion of the women's hips thrusting against their parters.

"Why are you not on the dance floor, Doctor?" Ensign Chekov asked in his heavy Russian accent, a fresh vodka in hand.

McCoy chuckled and took another sip of his drink. "I'm not much of a dancer."

"But there are so many pretty girlz!" Chekov exclaimed in his tainted English as he sat at the doctor's empty table.

"See, that's the thing Pavel, I'm not into girls. I like women."

Chekov laughed and raised an eyebrow, "You're implying there is a difference?"

"A big difference." McCoy replied, his shoulders slumping against the back of the booth.

"Janice Rand?" Chekov nodded to a young blonde thumping her body to the music.

"Girl."

"Jennifer Colt?" He pointed with his drink to a red-head in a purple dress; dancing with frenzy.

"Girl."

"Alexis Tankris?"

"Girl, Pavel!" McCoy exclaimed. "They're all girls. You'll understand when you're older." He mumbled into his bourbon.

Chekov studied the dance floor intensely and then narrowed his eyes on a golden blonde in a blue dress. "Christine Chapel.... Mmmmm, she is fine! Now that's a woman!"

McCoy's head snapped to the dance floor where he saw his stoic nurse pumping her body to the tribal beats. Inhaling sharply, "That is a woman and you better stay away from her Chekov. She'll eat a boy like you for dinner and then have seconds for dessert."

"You think I can't handle a 'woman' like Nurse Chapel?" Pavel Chekov laughed with his boyish chuckle. "I can do this!"

McCoy furrowed his brow. The whiz kid sure had a lot of gall.

"Never say never to a Russian, Doctor! They will always prove you wrong." Chekov replied with a smirk. Then putting down his fourth empty vodka glass, he left the booth and crossed the dance floor to Christine.

Gracefully taking her elbow, he whispered something in her ear, she laughed and together they began to gyrate to the pounding beat. McCoy was turning red in the face. Number one, Christine was too old to be on the dance floor with a bunch of fresh cadets and number two, Chapel should have more dignity than to grind her hips against some little Russian ensign. By God, the boy was only eighteen, their full-body dancing was barely legal and probably wasn't in forty-seven states.

He didn't even know he was crossing the dance floor until he was standing beside Pavel. Placing a hand on the young man's shoulder, McCoy clearly stated over the loud techtronic music, "Now let a man show you how it's done, son."

The strong drinks had made him brazen, but Chekov politely acquiesced to the chief medical officer.

Chapel had her eyes closed, hands in the air, twisting slightly to the music as McCoy stepped in behind her, his strong fingers firmly grasping her hips. She continued dancing, unaware of a change in partners until McCoy held her outstretched arms above her head in his left hand and let the back of his right trace down the soft underside of her arm, breast and ribs. She shuttered in response and opened her eyes, turning to face him.

"Doctor?" She asked confused.

The music was so loud on the dance floor, he could barely give an answer. "Leonard." He corrected, brining her arms down around his neck, hands settling on her hips with a squeeze.

Christine smiled, and danced against him like a seductress; breasts rubbing against his chest, fingers tickling the back of his neck. She smelled like sweet sex-- a combination of perfume, sweat and rum. Intoxicated both from Kentucky's finest and the smell of a beautiful woman in heat, McCoy closed his eyes and allowed the ancient poly-rhythms to move him. Together they twisted, pulsed like tribal dancers; Natarajas praising the mythic gods with their sweat -drenched undulations.

Suddenly a large explosion broke the trance of the dancers. McCoy and Chapel were thrown to the floor. The hall went strangely silent.

"Are you okay?" McCoy asked, lifting Chapel from the ground, dust and debris fluttering in the heavy air.

"Yes." She replied a bit dazed, looking around at the other dancers slowly rising from the floor.

"Get down!" An anonymous voice shouted "Bomb!"

McCoy threw himself on Chapel, covering her body with his as a second explosion rocked the Risa night club.

"It's the rebels!" Someone yelled as McCoy hauled Chapel up from the floor.

"Come on," McCoy commanded, dragging the nurse with him to a barricade of tables the patrons were erecting on the far side of the dance floor.

Safely behind an over turned table, Christine scrubbed at her face. "My God. What the hell is going on?"

McCoy looked dumb-struck at her. "Hell if I know! I didn't even want to come here." If Kirk had just let him stay on the ship like he'd wanted, then he'd be done analyzing the new botany samples and sipping a scotch in the comfort of his cabin. Of course, he would have been alone and missed the very delicious dancing with Christine.

Chekov dove over the barricade as hostile fire tattooed against the tables. "It's the Risinguard!" Chekov said breathless. "It's a rebel group that opposes the Risa government. Terrorists!"

Taking out a phaser from him pant leg, he fired over the tables and ducked down again.

"Where did you get that? We weren't suppose to have weapons on planet." McCoy protested.

"I was worried about the rebels. Up until now, they've only been attacking public transport lines and shops on the outer reaches of the city, but I had a feeling that with three federation ships taking shore leave on the same weekend, there might be trouble. The Captain gave me permission, sir."

McCoy frowned, "The Captain gave you permission to bring a weapon to a night club and drink while it's in your possession?"

"He didn't know I was going to bring it to the club... Or about the drink.. Probably."

McCoy gave him a meaningful look.

"I didn't know I was coming to the club, I thought we'd be out at shops and diners. That sort of thing."

McCoy and Chapel ducked together as more weapon fire hit. Chekov and a few other Starfleet officers braced above the tables and fired.

"Doctor, cover me!" Chekov exclaimed. "Janice is passed out on the floor."

"What?" McCoy asked, peering over the tables.

"Over there!" Chekov pointed. "I'm going to get her."

McCoy grabbed the young man's shoulder. "Don't be a fool, Chekov. We'll wait until the firing stops."

The teenager's blue eyes were wide, sweat beading on his brow. "The Risinguard, I studied them at the academy in PolySci; they don't take hostages, sir."

"Damn it!" McCoy took out his communicator, shots firing from both sides. "McCoy to Enterprise. Get us out of here!"

"We're trying sir, but there is scramble wave emanating from your area. Can you leave the building?"

"No!" McCoy shouted in to the communicator.

Silence and finally, a voice again. "Can't do it, sir. The signal can not be unscrambled. You must leave the building. The computer shows a door at lease five meters from the perimeter of your current location."

Smoke filled the cavernous room; people were screaming. Weapons fire was growing more rampant. They needed to get out immediately.

"I'm going, sir." Chekov said, his baby blue eyes intent as he passed the phaser to a frowning McCoy.

"Don't be a hero, Ensign." The doctor replied, but it was too late. The boy had scrambled over the wall and McCoy was forced to prop himself slightly above the barricade and attempt to cover the young man's back which was impossible in the thickening smoke and barrage of colored lights still swirling in the melee.

McCoy was almost unaware of Christine's hand on back until she spoke. "There he is! He's got her!"

McCoy and Chapel received Janice's body as it was passed over the barricade. It was in this moment that Chekov was hit with phaser fire. His body twitched and then slumped to the floor.

"Damn it!" McCoy cursed. "Have you got her?" He asked to Christine who was now checking the female yeoman's vital signs.

"Yes. Pulse and breathing strong. Probably a concussion from the falling debris."

"I'm going over for the kid."

"Leonard!" Christine reached out to stop him, but it was too late.

There was a another explosion and more phaser fire. Christine's breathing wavered as she crouched in silence with Janice's lifeless body waiting to hear Leonard McCoy's voice. She laughed at herself for actually missing the sound of cursing and complaining. Then finally, she heard his rough bark and praised God.

"Chapel!"

Chekov's body appeared at the top of the barricade. She grabbed it as it slid down the other side of the table top. "I've got him. Be careful!" She replied.

McCoy leapt over the baracade, unhit by the enemy phaser fire.

"You okay?" Her shaky voice betrayed her nerves.

"Yeah. Shit!" McCoy answered nearly breathless, holding Chekov's wrist. His hand suddenly slipped to the boy's neck and then his chest. Leaning over the man, McCoy put his head to the younger's chest. "His heart's stopped."

If he was on the ship, he would have the diffribulator or a hypo of epinephrine, but he didn't. Now he was practicing field medicine. Tilting Ensign Chekov's head back, he breathed into the boys mouth, two full short breaths.

Christine's hand clinched his shoulder. "What are you doing?!"

His dark eyes were dangerous. "Saving his life! Now move back."

The doctor moved to kneel besides Chekov's body and began giving the young man rappid chest compressions. "One one thousand, two one thousand... fifteen one thousand."

"Move!" He yelled at Chapel who was holding Chekov's head in her hands. "It's Cardiac Pulmonary Resuscitation." McCoy quickly explained, which wasn't much explanation to Chapel who still looked confused and frightened.

The doctor tilted back the head and breathed into his mouth again. "It's how you start a heart!"

Then repeating the chest compressions, Chekov sat up suddenly. "What's happened?" The boy asked, eyes wide.

"It's a miracle!" Christine gasped.

"Damn it, Chekov. Your heart stopped, but you're back. How do you feel? Can you stand and walk?"

The young man struggled up and McCoy aided him by bearing his weight on his shoulders. "Can you get Janince, Christine?"

"I can get her Doctor, let's just go!" She called back.

Together McCoy and Chapel hauled the bodies and themselves through a backdoor. Struggling under the extra weight, they finally achieved the perimeter when a blast shook the building and blew metal and rock from the doorway, a large stone hitting McCoy in the head. The man fell and Chekov stumbled at his side.

"Doctor McCoy?" Chekov asked shaking the doctor.

"No use shaking him. He's passed out." Reaching into his pocket with haste, Christine removed McCoy's communicator. "Nurse Chapel to Enterprise. Four to beam up and hurry!"

TBC

Author's Note: Thank you to Cap Streeter for recommending I write Chekov and 'girls'. Please review!!