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McKirk ficlet of Jim having food poisoning (or any illness) while Bones is visiting his folks in Georgia.

In classic Jim Kirk fashion, he had managed to pick the shittiest possible time to get sick.

Not that there was ever a good time to be sick. But some times were definitely better than others, and somehow, in his whole life, he had never managed to be sick at a convenient time. He was the sort of kid who developed fevers just low enough that they didn’t need to go to the ER at ten PM on a weekend and spent two days miserable before the doctor’s office was open to see him. He’d managed to get the chicken pox right before his mother was supposed to leave on an assignment (she’d called the brass and said she’d be late, which made him feel a little guilty). He’d gotten bronchitis right before his first three guitar concerts when he’d started taking lessons. And the less said about his bout with Vegan choriomeningitis, the better.

But this? This was the shittiest of shitty timing. It was a week after the Battle of Vulcan, so people were still licking their wounds. It was snowing to beat the band, more heavily than it had done in years, so nobody would be venturing out if they could help it. Fully a quarter of the Academy population had been decimated, and the survivors had been given a week off, so the dorms were pretty empty around him, a fact he tried not to think too hard about.

More specifically, Bones wasn’t around. The older doctor had gone home for a couple days to visit his folks. Jim missed him. Missed the one cadet on campus older than he was, missed the one person who treated him like Jim and not George Kirk’s son, missed the only doctor he really trusted. Missed his best friend, who had finally, after three years of mutual pining, become his lover.

And Jim had been throwing up his entire body weight for the last twenty-four hours.

He huddled miserably in his blankets and wished that he’d asked to go with Bones, but he acknowledged that if he had, he’d be throwing up at the McCoy family farm, and that wasn’t something he wanted to do. He liked Bones’ mother, his grandparents, even his irascible sister, and he didn’t want to infect them or make them think worse of him because their second impression of him was of an alleged hero with his head buried in a toilet. He also didn’t want to ruin Bones’ visit by making him take care of a sick Jim. Bones deserved to have time with his family.

There was a chiming noise from one of his PADDs, and Jim reached for it feebly, expecting his mother as he accepted the telecall without looking at the contact name.

Belatedly, he remembered that Bones had promised to call him at some point.

“Hey, darlin’.” Bones had a smile so bright it hurt to look at. “Mama and Suzanna say hi, too.”

“Hi,” Jim managed to croak out, hoping Bones wouldn’t notice.

Of course, he did. The smile vanished immediately. “You hung over?”

Oh, how Jim wanted to let Bones believe that. It would explain a lot. But this late at night? “No…maybe…I don’t think so.”

“Jim?” Bones sounded worried now. “Are you okay, darlin’? What’s wrong?”

“’M fine.” Jim tried to smile. “You have fun with your family and–”

“Oh, no, no. Hell, no. You’re not pulling this crap. Talk to me. Are you feeling feverish, dizzy, sore throat…?”

“Yes,” Jim admitted. “All three. ‘Cept I think…it’s a side effect. The sore throat, I mean. From throwing up.”

“You’ve been throwing up?”

“Pretty much since you left.” Jim smiled. “I’ll be okay. I’ve got…stuff. You have fun. Tell your sister and your aunt Norma Jean I said hi.”

Bones eyed him, then sighed. “I will. You get some rest, darlin’.”

“’Kay.”

“And make sure you push those fluids. You’re gonna get dehydrated.”

“’Kay.” Jim felt his eyes fluttering shut. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, Jim.”

The screen went black. Jim touched it lightly with his fingers, then lay back and let his eyes close.

He drifted in and out of consciousness. It was just his luck, really. Normally he pushed through being sick, whined about minor inconveniences like regular checkups, ignored his own needs in favor of getting shit done. But the one time he really could have used someone to coddle him, and he was alone.

Just like he’d always been.

“Jim?”

“Mmm...’ones?” Jim blinked blearily up. There was less light then there had been a minute ago, and he was lying all the way down, and in his bed, not on the couch where he’d curled up because he didn’t want to be in his bed without Bones there, too. And there Bones was, his hazel eyes full of worry, one cool hand resting on Jim’s forehead.

“C’mon, darlin’,” Bones whispered. “Let’s get some ginger ale in you.”

“What’re you...?” Jim blinked again. His brain felt fuzzy. “You’re...in Georgia. ‘M I in Georgia, too?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m right here. I came home.” Bones held out the glass, a bendy straw sticking out of it.

Jim pulled back, frowning in confusion. “You...no, you...your family...they need you.”

Bones set the glass down on the bedside table. He crawled into bed and took Jim into his arms, pulling him close and cuddling him, stroking his hear back from his sweaty forehead.

“You need me, Jim,” he said softly. “My mama missed me. So did Suzanna and Gran and everybody else. But this is where I need to be, darlin’. You’re sick. You’re sick and you were alone and I promised you.” He placed a soft kiss on Jim’s forehead. “I promised I’d never let you be alone again. And I won’t. As long as there is breath in my body, I will be there for you, whenever and wherever you need me.”

Jim felt tears sting his eyes, which were already hot. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.” Bones tucked his chin onto the top of Jim’s head. “Get some rest, darlin’. I’ll be right here.”

Safe, warm, and secure in his lover’s arms, Jim drifted off to sleep. For the first time in more than a day, he felt as though he might be able to get some actual rest, as though he was starting to heal.

Because that’s what Bones did. He healed Jim, in every way possible, whenever he needed him. He saved him.

Jim’s last thought, before the darkness claimed him for a while, was to pray that, someday, he could do something that would show Bones how thankful he was for the doctor’s healing touch.

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