A medteam soon arrived and lifted Chekov onto a stretcher. They carried him into the turbolift and into sickbay, where he was placed on a diagnostic bed.
        Bones soon followed, and started immediately with a painkiller hypo.         "You are one unlucky kid, Mr. Chekov. Breaking a bone two days in a row. What'll you do tomorrow? Break your skull open?" he grumbled as he worked. "You're makin' things harder for me. You're not the only person on this ship that I hafta worry about."                 Chekov attempted at a smile, but it was much closer to a grimace. The hypo helped, but it wasn't instantaneous. His leg still hurt like heck.
        "Sorry," he managed.
        "Don't worry 'bout it, kiddo. You've got a proficient doc. It's not your fault."
        Kirk had finally made it down the turbolift. He hurried over, a worried expression on his face.
        "How is he?" he asked.
        "He's got a broken leg, Jim. What did you think?" Bones replied irritably.
        "I meant-"
        "I know what you meant. He'll be fine." Bones turned back to Chekov. "I've gotta set your leg. Thankfully, it was a nice clean break, so it won't hurt as much as your arm did yesterday. Plus, you got a hypo. That'll help too."
        Chekov closed his eyes and winced as Bones set his leg. He was right, it wasn't nearly as bad as last time. "Zhank you," he breathed in relief, and opened his eyes again.
        "Don't thank me. I'm a doctor. It's what I do. Anyway, we're not done yet. I still hafta tend to your cast and deal with the problem that you mostly have hypothermia from that swim in the river. Don't be leapin' up and runnin' away just yet." He patted Chekov on the shoulder and went to get supplies, leaving Kirk and Chekov alone.
        There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then Kirk said, "So, how do you feel?"
        Chekov sat up a bit before replying. "Okay, I suppose. I'm cold and vet, but et least my leg doesn't hurt much anymore. I zhink Bones used a different medicine zhan last time. I'm not voozy at all. Just tired." He lay back, suddenly realizing his exhaustion. "Bones ees a good doctor, zhough. I'll be fine by tomorrow."
        Kirk smiled. "That he is." In the other room, Bones could be heard yelling, "Where the h*** is the fiberglass?" at some young nurse, who stammered something in reply. Kirk and Chekov chucked lightly.
        It was a minute or so before Bones came back, red in the face and carrying a box. He silently began wrapping Chekov's leg up.
        "Zhank you, Bones." Chekov smiled faintly, relaxing. He was surprised to find how tense he was. The mattress below was comfortable, and he settled down into it, feeling safe for the first time since falling off the log.
        As soon as Bones finished casting Chekov's leg, he said, "I'm going to heat up your bed. It'll deal with your hypothermia. I'll get you a new outfit, too. Don't want you dripping all over my beautiful floor." He rubbed Chekov's hair, adjusted the controls on the bed, and walked away again.
A pleasant heat spread through Chekov, warming him and causing his small shivers to cease. He stretched out slightly, closing his eyes. He felt a prod on the arm a moment later.
        "Hey, don't fall asleep! Tell me what happened!" Kirk proclaimed.
As Chekov opened his eyes again, Bones reentered, this time carrying a gold uniform. He put the folded uniform on the bed and tsked at Kirk.         "Don't disturb my patient. He's probably exhausted. Let him have some rest. You can talk to him tomorrow."
        Kirk stared blankly at him, and Bones's face turned irritable. "Get out, Jim. That's medical code for 'leave the patient alone.'" When Kirk didn't move, Bones sighed and pushed him gently out the door. "Shoo. Go back to your comfy chair on the bridge."
        "Okay, okay! I'm going!" Kirk plodded away, looking back only when he reached the turbolift.
        Bones sighed again, turning around ((I seriously make them sigh too often. I need a new verb, guys. Help)). "You can get changed. I'll be in my office if you need me." He also exited, grumbling under his breath about how he had no idea where anything was anymore.
        Chekov changed quickly (a difficult task), and laid back down on the warm cot. What he really wanted was a sonic shower, but he didn't want to risk injuring his leg further by walking on it.
        He lay back, staring at the ceiling. He had never really looked at the sickbay ceiling before, and he realized how boring it was. The ceiling stared back at him, bland and unforgiving.
As he stared, he felt the exhaustion of the day overcome him. Sleep soon crept up on him, and he welcomed it like a warm blanket.
~~~~~~~~~~~The next day~~~~~~~~~~
        Chekov awoke to darkness. He automatically winced due to the fact that the painkiller had worn off. Glancing around, his eye caught a chronometer. It read 1400 hours. Two o'clock in the morning, then. He ran a hand through his dirty, still-damp hair, and wondered again when he could get to a sonic shower. Suddenly, he noticed that the light above the door was blinking yellow. He blinked back at it, wondering why they were in yellow alert.
        "Bones?" he whispered, hoping that, maybe, someone would hear him and come to explain what had happened. No one came. He felt like a little kid again, alone in his room, wondering if someone would come comfort him after waking up from a nightmare. The same uneasiness had settled upon him.
        "Ees anyvone zhere?" he asked, slightly louder than the first time. Again, he got no reply.
        He found it strange that no nurses or doctors were there. He tried to remember the schedule on board and what times the gamma and delta shifts were on ((I don't know if the other shifts are ever mentioned in the actual show, but they're in the pocket books quite often. Like many things, this is just another difference between the two. For example, the fact that in the books, the universal translator is a device inside your arm!)), but he had never really studied it. He was certain, however, that there should have been someone other than himself in sickbay. Where was everybody?
        He stood unsteadily, grimacing as he put weight on his injured leg. To his relief, he discovered that someone had left a pair of crutches by the bed. He picked them up and hobbled across the room to the door.
        Peering through, he saw that the rest of sickbay was just as dark and was devoid of people. He walked through the empty room, towards the turbolift. "Computer," he began, "Vhy ees zhe sheep on yellow alert?"
        "Unable to understand," came the reply. "Please repeat your question."
        Chekov made a frustrated face, then articulated very carefully, "Why is the ship on yellow alert?"
        "A Klingon vessel has been detected on scanners."
        "R'Wolok..." Chekov whispered. He hobbled across the room to a wall unit by the door. He hit a button, then said, "Chekov to Keptin Kirk." He waited a moment then repeated, "Chekov to Keptin Kirk."
        It was a few moments before he got a reply. "Mr. Chekov, what are you doing up right now?" Kirk sounded tired, as if he had been awake for a long time.
        "Zhat ees vhat I vanted to esk you. Vhat ees going on? Vhy are ve on yellow alert?"
        "There's a Klingon ship on long-range scanners. It's heading in our direction. We're preparing to intercept it."
        "Oh. Is eet R'Wolok?"
        "We don't know if it's R'Volok or not as of yet. All we know is that there's a Klingon ship on long-range scanners. Kirk out."
        Chekov opened his mouth to say more, was but was cut off when the comm link was terminated. He made an expression of irritation, then closed his mouth. He glanced at the turbolift, and pondered whether or not he should get into it and go up to the bridge. He sighed, sitting back down on his bed. He would probably just be in the way if he went up to the bridge. "Computer," he said, "tell me vhen zhe Klingon wessel ees readable on short-range scenners."
        "Aye, Ensign Chekov."
        He sat for an interminable amount of time before he heard the computer's voice again.
        "Klingon vessel is readable on short-range scanners."
        Chekov went over to the wall unit again and commed Kirk. "Keptin, ees eet R'Wolok?"
        "Mr. Chekov, I don't know. It seems to be the same ship, but what if he was impersonating a random Klingon vessel that he saw? It's impossible to say."
        "Raise zhem on comm links!"
        "Don't you think I'm trying? We're not getting a response. The other ship's only 200,000 kilometers away, and closing fast. We'll see if they comm us."
        "Alright."
        There was silence for a moment, and then the ship rocked. Chekov nearly fell off of the bed. "Vhat vas zhat?!?" he shouted.
        He got no response other than, "Red alert! All crew members to battlestations!"
        "I'm coming up zhere!" Chekov ran -well, hobbled- over to the turbolift and jumped inside.
        The doors closed, leaving him alone with the flashing red light above the door.