DISCLAIMER:
I do not in any way own or take claim to any of the Star Trek characters or plots. I just use the characters to satisfy my imagination.

So I was sick a little while ago and it inspired me to try my hand at writing a sick fic because I think they're cute and fluffy. Although there's only Jim in this chapter I do aim to include Bones and possibly some Spock in the next/later chapters. Not really sure where this is going yet so all ideas are welcome. Please let me know of any errors as it is not Beta'd, I have tried my best to correct any so far. Please be kind, first fiction ever.

Jim was pulled from the depths of sleep as he tossed and turned in the heavy strangling sheets on his bed. Something wasn't right. He felt hot and sweaty and was exhausted from the little sleep that he had managed to get so far.

As he opened a bleary eye to look at the alarm clock beside his bed he felt something stir within him. It was three in the morning. His stomach felt jittery and was gently rolling causing him to feel slightly uncomfortable as he turned onto his side, ridding the warm sticky sheets from his body. His mouth was dry and he could taste something that resembled butter that caused him to feel lightheaded and sickly even though he was lying down.

When a gentle stab of pain caused Jim to emit a soft gasp he knew that something was wrong. The pain was quickly becoming stronger and he struggled to take natural breaths as he tossed onto his other side, trying to combat the pain.

It didn't immediately occur to Jim that he was sick. He never panicked when he was in pain and he really hated people giving him sympathy and attention when he was ill. God, he even disliked doctors and hospitals. A lot. But as the pain in his stomach steadily got stronger he felt a small pang of fear.

Jim sat up as another stab of pain took his breath away; it was really bad and made him feel weak and nauseous. "Lights twenty per cent," he commanded in a soft voice as he felt for the drawer handle on his bedside table. He pulled it open and found the small box of painkillers the he often kept handy. They miraculously were one of the limited medications that he wasn't allergic to.

Clutching the small package, Jim pulled himself off of the bed and stumbled into the small bathroom in his quarters. He filled a cup with water and popped two of the small white pills into his mouth, washing them down with the cool clear water.

It felt like an eternity before Jim finally fell back into his bed and regathered the forgotten pile of sheets by his feet. He still felt like he was overheating but was shivering with sudden cold at the same time. He pulled the sheets tighter around himself and groaned softly as fresh pain stabbed in his abdomen.

As Jim suddenly remembered the soft glow of the artificial lights filling the room, a familiar watery sensation filled his mouth and his stomach painfully threatened to squeeze as he jumped out of his bed and raced into the small bathroom, hanging his head over the basin.

Nothing happened at first and minutes passed by as the dishevelled captain held himself over the white basin as his stomach performed flips and jumps, throbbing with new and greater pain every second. Before too long Jim felt that familiar feeling and his stomach painfully squeezed again as its contents were forced up and he retched into the small basin.

The bile burned his throat and was disgustingly bitter, making him even more nauseous just thinking about it. The rancid aroma filled the small bathroom and Jim couldn't control himself as the smell set off another bout of vomiting. This time it was more intense and caused him to shudder with exhaustion at the physical effort. When Jim could no longer expel liquid, dry heaves ravaged him and again he shuddered with exhaustion as the extreme pain of retching forced warm salty tears to dribble down his pale, hot cheeks.

He hated it when he was sick. Jim Kirk was no stranger to pain and often drove his doctor and best friend Bones to the point of sheer despair on a regular basis. Despite this, Bones understood Jim and although it had taken a long time, Jim had finally let down his walls and allowed Bones to see the side of him that he fought to keep hidden from everyone else. The Jim who was lonely and scared and the Jim who craved to just be held and comforted, the Jim who grew up with nothing.

This was the person that was kept hidden behind the smart arse, cocky, "I don't believe in no-win situations" Captain mask.

Jim released his vice like grip on the edge of the basin and slowly sagged to the ground as his suddenly weak legs threatened to collapse entirely. He was so tired and he felt heavy and weighted as he closed his eyes and rubbed away the now cold tears as he attempted to pull himself up into a sitting position on the cool floor.

He wasn't quite ready to stand yet and he felt his vision swim as he pulled his head up and took a deep breath to calm his senses. When his vision settled, he slowly made his way into a standing position and step by step made his way back to his bed.

Jim lowered himself onto the mattress and as he pulled the covers up he noticed that the stabbing pain had disappeared. Perhaps he had eaten something that hadn't agreed with him but whatever it was, it was gone now. As the exhaustion of the past half an hour settled in, Jim felt his heavy eyelids close and he was lulled into the realms of sleep, desperate to catch the last moments of rest before his next shift began.