Warning: some bad words, that's all

Chapter 5

One night, 15 days after the shore leave, Spock didn't know what woke him. His internal clock said it was 2:37 in the morning. That night he and Jim were off duty, so they were sleeping. Or at least he thought so. From the bathroom, he heard someone throwing up violently. He moved out the bed fast, worried. From the bond, he could feel that Jim was in pain.

"Jim, what is wrong ashayam." He knelt down next to his lover's form, now sitting on the floor in front of the toilet, pale, hands around it, breathing heavily. He started to run his hand on Jim's back trying to sooth him.

"I don't know. I woke up feeling like shit, my stomach hurts badly, and the nausea won't go away."

"Do you want me to call doctor McCoy, ashayam?"

"Nah, it's fine. I probably ate something bad last night. Help me to the sink, please? I really wanna get rid of this fool taste in my mouth."

"Sure, ashayam." Spock helped Jim stand up. The sick man was shaking, so he had to lean against his husband to avoid crashing onto the floor. They went back to bed, side by side. Jim leant against Spock's shoulder, sighing. Spock in return, hugged his shoulders, planting a loving kiss on his forehead and caressing his hair. "Rest, ashayam. But if you still feel under the weather in the morning, we are going to pay doctor McCoy a visit."

"Mm. Thanks, but no thanks. He is too hypo happy for my thoughts!" Spock helped Jim to lay down, checking for fever. Comforted that he was not running one, he retrieved a glass with water to leave on the night table next to Jim, moving around the bed and lying down, he covered them both and hugged his husband.

The next morning, Jim seemed better, and Spock had to drop the thought of taking him to see McCoy.

They went in the mess for their shared breakfast. He was careful watching for any hint that Jim could possibly get sick again but found none. He was not pleased to see how little Jim ate that morning, but he didn't reprimand him for that. They were halfway to their shift when yeoman Rand went to Kirk with some reports to read and his coffee. Jim thanked her, taking everything. But as soon as he got the mug near his lips to drink it, he went all green, dropping all the PADDs on the floor, the mug back in Rand's hand, running for the service, a hand covering his mouth.

It went this way for some days. Jim really felt like shit, all over. Nothing could be kept down in the stomach. The nausea was overwhelming, dizziness a dark companion to him, daily. He started avoiding Spock's company, especially when not on the bridge, using anything as an excuse. He went as far as stealing anti-nausea hypos from the med bay, hacking into the storage log to cover up for the missing items.

Saying that Spock was worried, was an understatement. A marriage bond allows a Vulcan to feel everything his or her mate felt, and it could also be used to communicate between the two parts. But the last few days, even though he could feel the love and reassurance from his husband, he could see that there was something wrong. Jim was completely cutting him out. After every shift, he would say that he needed to finish some paperwork, and everybody knew how much Jim loved to do that work, hiding somewhere in the ship. Their muted communication was directed to duty means only, apart from the occasional, "I love you". Mealtime was no better. He hadn't had many occasions to be able to sit down with James during meals, because the husband, as soon as he sat down with his tray, would usually jump up, kiss him and move on, murmuring whatever thing he needed to do. Jim's workout time was increased to 2 hours per day, even though he did not need that. And his appearance… Some people thought that Jim was conceited and vain. Some thought he was not prepared to be captain at such young age. But most people saw past that. He was brilliant, self-concerned, strong, bright and there was like an aura all over him screaming "I am powerful, and I know it". Blonde, shiny hair, brilliant baby blue eyes. All gone. He was pale, dark circles around his eyes attesting how little he was sleeping, the straight walk was now replaced with dropped shoulders, strong and proud walking replaced by slow, almost painful steps. But the worse, for Spock, was the loss in weight he could see. He calculated that Jim had lost at least 13 pounds already.