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The moment Chekov walked into Medbay, McCoy could tell something wasn't right.
"What's your problem?" Bones asked, glancing up at the kid.
"I hafe bad headache," The Russian said, holding his head. "Bad, bad headache."
"Lay down." McCoy said, standing up from his desk to walk over to him. "You look terrible."
And he did. His hair was mussed, at least more so than usual, and he had bags under his eyes that a seventeen year-old shouldn't have.
"I am fine, I just need some medicine," The young man replied, clambering onto a bed.
"When was the last time you slept?"
Chekov held his head, his head throbbing too much to reply. He held up three fingers.
"Three hours?" Chekov shook his head and McCoy felt his heart drop. "Three days?"
Chekov nodded. "My God, Pavel."
The boy shrugged. "I hafe had too much vork to do." He said, his eyes growing heavy just thinking about sleep.
"And the last time you ate?"
Chekov grimaced. "Two days, doctor."
McCoy set down his PAD, looking down at the Russian. "You're joking."
Chekov shook his head. "No, sir."
The boy looked so distressed, Leonard vaguely yearned to kiss him and tuck him into bed and make him sleep. But he knew that was impossible. It was against Starfleet regulation, and not to mention not even legal yet." But he just wanted to fix the boy.
He gave him a hypospray, then covered him with the thin regulation hospital sheet. He carded his hands through the blonde's curly hair and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Just sleep."
The boy shook his head, trying to stand. "I hafe too much vork to do." He repeated.
"No. Someone else will take care of it," Bones said, putting a hand on his chest. "You need sleep."
Chekov opened his mouth to reply, but McCoy gently pushed him back into the bed.
"Chekov, you'll become a liability to the ship if you burn out." The doctor said, moving his hand to the boy's shoulder.
The younger clever boy had accepted defeat, laying back on the soft pillow.
"Just close your eyes."
Chekov obeyed, not moving when the doctor ran his fingers through the young boy's hair again, looking for head injuries.
"I cannot sleep, sir." He said, after a moment.
"Just...talk about something. Like your life. Talk about you."
"Vell, I grew up in Mother Russia vith my parents and family. Then I came to America to go to the Academy. I vasn't wery popular there, I vas only sixteen.."
Bones remembered. He also remembered walking into the men's bathroom one afternoon to find Chekov curled in a tight ball, his uperclassmen kicking at him as he cried, his face hidden. Sulu had come and gotten the men away, and when the boy (hardly English-speaking and not understanding half the insults the men had shouted at him) looked up, his eye was black and he was bleeding.
Leonard hadn't done anything in that moment. Then, he left. He suddenly felt terrible for his lack of interest in the boy up until now.
"And then I came here to vork on the Enterprise. And ve all know how that..."
It had worked. The boy had talked himself to sleep. McCoy covered the boy further with the blanket, who curled under it easily. He'll get some food in the boy later. For now, he'll sleep. Leonard stood, before pressing a kiss to his cheek.