Oh. My. Goodness. I have been quite literally overwhelmed by the response this first chapter got. You are all beautiful people. So thank you to those of you who have added this to your favourites/alerts list or have reviewed (you especially have a special place in my heart). And thank you for those of you who have thought this is worth reading past the first chapter. So, here is the next instalment, I sincerely hope I haven't ruined it. And please, once again, do drop a review. I do love to hear what you lovely people think of my writing.

Andorian Shingles

Chapter 2- Not so calm

The whirring and beeping of machinery filled the bridge which, for once, was completely void of chatter. All of the crew simply remained at their stations. Many still had their hands hovering over control panels while Chekhov and Sulu had spun their seats around, for once paying only enough attention to the helm to know if there was going to be some kind of impending disaster. They were all focussed on the empty chair. Without the big personality which usually occupied it the chair was just that. A chair. Spock's attention soon turned to the floor, to the vile concoction of vomit mixed with a small amount of blood. That was most unsanitary; it would need to be cleaned up.

Spock can clean it up.

Why did the Captain insist on joking at such a time as that, when most humans would be crying in pain? Well, he presumed Kirk was joking; it would be illogical for the Captain to wish him, the ship's First Officer, to clean up such a mess when they had a maintenance department on board. However he had been wrong when it came to human humour before…

"He was joking," Uhura called to Spock, obviously he had been staring and the foul puddle for a while and she had worked out what he was thinking. He nodded his thanks to her.

"Lieutenant Uhura, would you contact maintenance and ask them to send someone to clean this up?"

"Done so already," she responded, turning back to her station. There was another brief moment of silence, something which never happened when their captain was on the bridge. Finally Chekhov spoke up. "I hope ze Keptin vill be ok," he commented, vocalising what all of the crew on the bridge were thinking. Spock sensed that the crew needed guidance now more than ever. "I shall go to sickbay in one hour to check on the Captain, until then I ask that you all continue as normal." With that the bridge seemed to stutter back into life but the air of concern remained, nobody could forget the sight of their captain being held up by his First Officer to prevent him falling into his own vomit whilst his eyes streamed with blood.

It was no secret that Jim Kirk hated hospitals or any area which was associated with medical treatment. It was a dislike which had caused Bones an incredible amount of bother in the past as he tried to patch Jim up without the equipment he deemed necessary because the idiot refused to go and seek out proper treatment. However, Kirk now knew that being taken to medlab was at least three times worse when you couldn't actually see anything.

When he was being taken down to medlab it wasn't too bad. He knew his ship well enough to know exactly where he was at any given moment which meant he knew roughly what was going on. The winding corridors were all familiar to him and they all felt like home providing him with an odd sense of comfort and security. But as soon as he arrived in medlab it was a whole different ball game, he was way out of his comfort zone. There were people moving past the stretcher, obviously busy doing something which involved him but he had no idea what. The noise surrounded him, medical terminology was being thrown about liberally but he couldn't quite get his head around what was being said. The noise swirled around him into a cacophony of sound which was indecipherable to him. Though he would never admit it to anyone, the fact he was unaware of what was going on unnerved him deeply. In desperation to know what was happening he pried his eyes apart, having to swallow a scream at the sensation of lasers boring through his eyeballs.

"Shut your damn eyes you idiot," came the distinctive voice of Dr McCoy, the only man who had the ability to sound frustrated, irritated and concerned all at once effectively drowning out the dreadful sound which had been plaguing him only moments earlier. The captain didn't need to be told twice, he was beginning to feel nauseous from the pain. He couldn't even make anything out either; it was all merely a blur of colours with smudges dressed in blue constantly moving around him. "There really is no point in you opening your eyes, trust me, you aren't going to be charming any women with them any time soon." Jim chuckled painfully but then sighed in relief as he felt something cool and refreshing being draped across his closed eyelids. It was designed to soothe and it did just that, the burning sensation dissipated slightly providing him with some very welcome relief. Typically his body decided that he needed more punishing though, because obviously he hadn't been put through enough already, his stomach cramped causing Kirk to sit up abruptly. "For goodness sake Jim, lie down, you're not going anywhere."

"Bones, I…" Something in his voice obviously betrayed him because only moments later he felt something being shoved under his chin just in time. Jim Kirk had actually sounded vulnerable and it shocked the doctor, he sounded so young, never would he forget that voice. The Captain didn't have a lot to bring up, he just dry heaved mostly, spitting bitter bile into the bowl every so often. Bones' hand rested on the back of his neck, his fingers were calloused from years of handling surgical tools. Without even realising it Jim relaxed into the touch and it had a somewhat calming effect on him. Eventually he was done and the bowl was removed. A cloth was placed in his hands. "Wipe your face with that," ordered a nurse with a distinctive but pleasant Irish accent. Wordlessly he obeyed, suddenly feeling far too tired to argue.

"Right, Jim, I want to get you onto the biobed now, can you stand or do you need us to lift you?"

"I'm not an invalid," Jim growled. He hated medlab and this was one of the many reasons why, people treated him like he was about to break, but he was the Captain of a Starship dammit. Slowly he swung his legs around over the edges of the stretcher, wincing as the material of his uniform shifted across the hot, dry skin underneath almost as if it were being scoured by sandpaper instead of simply being in contact with fabric. "Easy does it," reassured the doctor, removing whatever it was from his face that had been keeping the pain in his eyes just about bearable. As soon it was removed the pain came back with a vengeance. When he was little he'd managed to get pepper spray in his eyes and even that would have been preferable to what he were feeling, hell, he wanted to gouge out his eyeballs just to make the pain go way. He raised trembling hands up to his eyes instinctively only to have them pulled away by his best friend.

"It's alright; I'll put something more permanent on them once we've got you situated," Bones reassured, wincing as he saw the blood which covered his friend's fingertips. It was a lot more effort for him to keep the worry out of his voice than he'd thought it would. He couldn't let Jim know how concerned he was, the man got nervous enough when taken into a medical setting, but now there was a very real possibility of him going blind. He couldn't risk the man having a panic attack.

"When did you get so nice?" Jim groaned as he began to shuffle himself to the edge of the stretcher, eyes firmly closed to prevent another onslaught of pain.

"Oh don't worry," Bones commented as casually as he could whilst sitting on the stretcher next to his friend and hauling his arm over his shoulder. "Once you're feeling better you and I are going to have a nice chat in my office."

Jim felt a gentle tug on his arm and he took it as his cue to stand which was far more difficult than he'd anticipated. His muscles protested at being used, positively screaming at him to stop, merely adding to the miasma of pain he was in. But he was the Captain for a reason and one of those reasons was that he never gave up in the face of adversity, even if that adversity was his own body. All the while he could hear Bones talking, what he was saying was not designed to reassure but distract; something he was incredibly grateful for. "And do you know what we're going to talk about Jim? Your health and about when it is and when it is not appropriate to see your CMO. In your case if you so much as think maybe there is something is wrong you should come and see me because if you think something is up it probably means your arm is hanging half off or something."

Jim pushed on for what could have only have been a few feet but he could have walked the distance of continental Europe for how exhausted it left him. Though he was loathe admitting it he knew that if it weren't for McCoy's support he would have collapsed into a puddle of sick Starfleet Captain on the floor if he'd even managed to get off the stretcher at all.

Eventually he collapsed onto the biobed, each time he lay on one he was always surprised at how comfortable they were considering how they looked. He could hear something beeping above him. "Bones, what's going on?" he asked hoping the man would realise quite how much he didn't like being able to see what was happening. Suddenly the cool thing was dropped over his eyes again and he sighed in pleasure, visibly relaxing as the inferno within his eyeballs dissipated somewhat. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it," replied Bones, the beeping was still going on in the background and it already irritated Jim. "I'm just calibrating the biobed, what you're hearing is your heartbeat." There were a few moments in which nothing was said and then Bones' frustrated voice reverberated throughout the whole of sickbay. It was a tone of voice which was especially reserved when he was angry at the Captain. Kirk could practically hear all of the nurses scurrying away to avoid ending up as collateral damage and all of the other patients, if there were any others, pretending to be asleep.

"Dammit Jim, you're hot." A wicked grin spread across Kirk's pallid and exhausted features and he turned his head to where he thought McCoy's voice had come from.

"You don't look so bad yourself," he joked. He really didn't feel up to joking but that's what he'd normally do and he wanted to at least pretend things were normal. He didn't like sickbay and he didn't like having to rely on other people; that had never ended well for him in the past.

"Shut up, this is serious," McCoy retorted, not keeping up the banter like Jim hoped he would. The man sounded angry and it unnerved Kirk. But now he could feel Bones sitting on the edge of the biobed trying to calm himself down. That never worked for the doctor for long, he was permanently frustrated at everyone around him.

"Look, I'm sorry." Kirk could hear the tension in his friend's voice which Kirk knew meant that his condition was worse than the doctor was letting on. He felt his stomach do a flip within him but he swallowed, forcing himself not to throw up yet again. "I didn't mean to lose it with you, it's just, aw dammit kid this could be serious. And it's not even just this shingles business, there actually is a cure. It's just…"

"I'm allergic," Jim finished.

"Got it in one," McCoy muttered and Jim could hear him rubbing his face in his hands. "I'm gonna try and patch you up as best as I can but this is going to take quite a while for you to get over." To this Kirk waved his hand dismissively in Bones' general direction.

"And they said it's take me eight years to get my own ship." To this the doctor chuckled.

"Look, I need to get a look at that rash. I'm just going to cut that uniform off you; it'll be easier than trying to manoeuvre you out of it."

This was a plan that the Captain most certainly did not like the sound of. Cautiously he tried to sit up but was immediately pushed down by firm hands. "Lie down," Bones ordered in his no nonsense voice. "Don't worry about the uniform; you can replicate another one when you're better."

"Have you got a nurse who can do it?" Kirk mumbled as exhaustion began to take over but he still wanted to attempt to lighten the mood. However his friend simply did not want to play ball.

"Jim, if you so much as try anything with any of my staff I will take great pleasure of looking down that long list of medications which you are allergic to and then mixing a cocktail of a select few of them. I will then inject them into you and enjoy watching as you fall into anaphylactic shock and will only pull you out of it so I can inject you with the cocktail over and over again. Understand?"

"Touchy," Jim hissed as he raised his hand absentmindedly to scratch at his stomach but Bones instantly swatted his hands away.

"I have mittens somewhere in the store cupboard and I will surgically attach them if that's what is necessary, so don't scratch." Kirk stiffened as he felt the slight pull at his shirt and then the inevitable snip as scissors sliced through fabric. "And who could blame me for being touchy? I just found out my friend has Andorian Shingles and is allergic to the very thing that would make him better. I mean seriously Jim; I did warn you about this illness when we first met and then typically you went and had to go and catch it didn't you? Of all the things you had to catch. Have you been sitting there at your desk thinking how can I make Bones life more of a living hell? Because I have to tell ya, you struck gold with this one." Bones stopped talking whilst he pulled the now decimated fabric away from his friend's pale skin and he let out a hiss, of both sympathy and annoyance, as he did so. "Oh, and then you thought you'd leave it until the rash spread all over your body. I've got to congratulate you there kid, that's real smart."

His patient mumbled something indignantly but Bones was no longer listening. He was too preoccupied with examining the rash in the man's torso. It no longer simply looked red and sore, small patches of skin were already beginning form bubbles which were putrid and full of pus. Quickly he snapped on some gloves and began to probe the worse areas with his fingers and he could feel Jim tensing under his touch. A simple glance at the monitors told Bones all he needed to know, Jim was stressed and stress was something he could definitely do without.

The Captain knew what was going to happen before Bones said anything; he'd recognise the click of a hypo being loaded anywhere. He'd been on the receiving end of surprise attacks, thanks to Bones, enough to become sensitive to any indication that he was about to be subjected to what he believed to be an evil contraption. "Bones I…"

"This is going to be a long and painful examination and you obviously need some rest. This'll knock you out for a couple of hours and when you wake up I'll fill you in." Blindly Jim groped for his friend's hand to try and stop the doctor from sedating him but Bones easily avoided the search and quickly dispersed the sedative into Kirk's bloodstream. In response to the hiss Jim groaned loudly and went very limp, the doctor felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He didn't like having to do that but it really was for the best. The examination would have caused his friend far too much pain and stress which in his current condition he might not be able to handle. Steeling himself Bones set about trying to fix his friend, something he seemed to spend most of his life doing.