Spirk - 5 times Jim Refused To Ask For Help, and the One Time He Ask For Help.

Uncontrolled Fever

Word Count: 1,681

Enjoy :)

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Captain James T. Kirk cracked open an eye as his alarm blared, unforgivingly loud in the silent darkness of his quarters. He rolled over in his king sized bed, taking sweat socked sheets with him as he reached a shaky hand out to silence the alarm located on his bedside table.

"Lights 50 percent," he called out, his hoarse voice scratching the back of his throat uncomfortably. Light pierced his skull, reverberating through his brain and leaving a resounding ringing in its wake.

He rolled up and out of bed. Forgoing his decision to drop the sheets from his shoulders, as he was all at once overcome with shivers from an imperceptible draught.
He sneezed, rocked forward with the force, and blink sheepishly through tired eyes.

'This was going to be one hell of a shift,' he thought. If he could make it through it that was.

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He got up and dressed slowly, painfully slowly, wincing as he turned his head to suddenly, and shivering even decked out in his double layered, long sleeved Captain's uniform.

By the time he was ready to venture out past the doors of the Captain's chambers, Alpha shift was very nearly already underway - leaving no time for breakfast. He thought this for the best though, thinking he would probably just throw it up anyway, and waste the food.

He headed sluggishly toward the bridge, eyes forcefully focused on the floor as he walked.

'Was the ship moving,' he questioned queasily, as he moved unhurriedly to his chair at the bridge, 'Or was that just his imagination, or perhaps he was just swaying on his feet.' He pondered further, promptly sitting as he realised the latter may be closest to the truth.

The Captain was the first to his post, the other posts vacant, the previous shift having already left. The bridge was barren. Silent. Dark.

God, he was so tired.

He could just close his eyes, just a moment of respite, perhaps, to quell the swirl of sickness in his stomach, and the reverberating ringing behind his eyes.

He leaned heavily back against his chair, suddenly far more comfortable than it had ever felt previously, eyes squeezed shut.

"Captain?"

Spock. Of course the first officer was early.

Jim struggled against a wince as the bright bridge lights abruptly engulfed his vision. "Mr. Spock," he responded, nodding (and immediately regretting the action as he was suddenly thrown to the depths of a headache, and reintroduced to the roiling sea in his stomach) at the Vulcan as he entered his periphery. "Captain. You are more than five minutes early. In all my time as your first officer you have never once arrived at your post even a minute early. Are you well?" 'That can't be true. Has he never been at the bridge early?' "That's funny Spock." He replied sarcastically, forgoing an eye roll at the last minute though, for the sake of not worsening the pounding behind his eyes. "Yes, I'm fine," he finished definitely, turning in his chair, to once more face the vastness of space contained behind the window, as the bridge personnel began filtering through the automatic doors, chatting animatedly in their twos and threes. Time to get to work. 

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 The reports were beginning to blur, words bleeding down the PADD, as Jim rubbed at his tired eyes, urging them to focus. Only a two hours left. God. Two hours, that was no longer the reassuring thought it had been. He didn't know if he could last two more minutes like this, let alone one hundred and twenty (Hell, it sounds so much longer when he thinks of it like that). He was struggling to keep his eyes open, every second fighting against the urge to succumb to sleep, or ease the burn held beneath every inch of his skull, bolstered by the far-too-bright lights of the bridge. He was sweating under his uniform, but shivering against a nonexistent chill, all at once. His jaw was latched shut, whole body tense under the effort that was attempting to keep his stomach contents in his stomach. Lunch had come and gone, with excuses of false busyness (reports up to his eyeballs that had to be seen to, he'd explained to Uhura, Spock eavesdropping not-so-subtly). He'd waved Spock's offer to stay and help off, saying he didn't want to keep him from his lunch. "I had a big breakfast, so I'll be good til later. You should go have your lunch, though. I'll get through them fast enough on my own, don't you worry." He explain to Spock after receiving further insistence on his part. Though Spock gave Jim somewhat of a dubious look after that, he did go, leaving the Captain to his work.