A/N: This is originally posted on my ao3 account, under the same penname. My best friend, when on vacation, sent me a text that accidently became a prompt, which ultimately led to this. All things happen for a reason, I suppose.

"Apparently, my expression walking home was one that read 'If you mess with me, not only will I beat you up, but there is a distinct possibility that I will throw up on you as well.'"

There was definitely something unpleasant about a punch to the stomach, Jim thought, as he put more and more of his weight onto McCoy's steady shoulder.

It had been an embarrassing shore leave.

He'd had to fight for this one, too. Several months of uninterrupted work, and Jim's stress levels were so high that he was beginning to develop a nervous tick. Apparently, the Admiralty didn't care that his already questionable crew was going stir crazy. Fed up with their non-compliance, Jim had cited some bullshit regulation that specified the need for time off in the event of such a 'severe case of Cabin Fever.' They didn't buy it, but, miracle of miracles, Pike pulled a few strings and got the Enterprise five nights on Earth. Jim owed that man his life and more.

Shore leave in San Francisco. A fun, relaxing break with his friends. That was all Jim asked for, and then, the giant loser that he is, he had to go and ruin it the first night in. In his defense, at least he hadn't thrown the first punch.

The problem was that there really hadn't been a problem to begin with, and it had escalated beyond control.

While ordering drinks from the bar, Uhura had been chatting with some handsome stranger. He charmed her up, complimenting her looks and intelligence; in short, the full works. She was laughing and smiling, and no one really thought anything of it until she stood abruptly, and angrily shoved him back a bit.

Back at their table, Scotty made to move, but Jim pushed him down and got up himself. Scotty was a great friend, and a good man, but he'd been pounding the scotch a little too hard, and Jim really didn't want a show of that fiery temper.

Fat lot of good that did him.

Politely telling the guy at the bar to lay off his friends got Jim a fist to the jaw. Completely caught off guard, he simply did what he'd always done, and swung back. He didn't think he'd been that drunk, but what happened after the initial strike was a hazy mess in his mind, punctuated by spikes of pain, until he went down with a solid punch to his gut.

By the time Jim came to on the sticky floor, the large crowd that surrounded them had gone quiet and then Bones was there, shoving people aside in favor of helping Jim stand on shaky legs.

One of his arms was slung over Bones' shoulders, and one of Bones' arms supported him around the waist.

That was how Jim came to find himself outside on the sidewalk, lacking the strength in his legs to do much else but hang off of his best friend, and unable to ignore how badly his stomach ached.

"Jim? You okay, kid?" A familiar voice by his ear cut through the fog. Bones.

Jim tried to shake his head, his second mistake of the night. The spinning of the ground beneath his feet got worse and his vision was littered with stars. The dizzy feeling was overwhelming and he screwed his eyes shut. Jim felt his knees give out, and McCoy slowed his ungraceful descent to the ground.

Gentle hands brushed back his hair, cupped his face and tapped lightly to bring him around. Uhura.

"Kirk?" She hesitated, "Jim? Can you hear me?"

Jim barely opened his eyes enough to see Uhura's outline, and gave a tiny upturn of his lips. "Hey 'hura."

She huffed a little bit, and Jim could tell she was rolling her eyes, but there was no malice behind the action.

"You really shouldn't have done that back there, Kirk. I was going to be okay."

A shameful blush burned in his cheeks, and he averted his gaze. Uhura was right. "I know... m'sorry I ruined your shore leave."

The gentle whirring of a medical scanner preceded Jim being hoisted off the ground, and back into McCoy's helpful arms.

"Alright, sad-sack. That's enough moping for tonight. You didn't ruin anything," Bones was trying to console him and Jim appreciated the effort, but it wasn't really helping.

McCoy started to move, forcing Jim along with him. The sudden starts and stops weren't doing his stomach any favors, and he wisely kept his mouth shut.

The awkward silence weighed heavily on Jim's heart, until Chekov's accent chirped, "I think vat you did back there vas wery brave, Keptin, standing up for Uhura like that."

Jim heaved a sigh through his nose, "It's not Captain, Chekov. Not right now."

"He's right though, sir," Scotty argued, "There was this righteous fire in your eyes, when you confronted that pubcrawler. Any man in his right mind would be mad to cross you."

Swaying on unsteady feet, Jim snorted humorlessly, "Well right about now, if anyone messes with me or any of you, not only will I beat them up, but there's a pretty high chance I'll throw up on them as well."

Jim wasn't wrong. After several minutes of stumbling along, his stomach was a churning mess. His attempts to quell the sickly feeling were useless, and the nausea soon got the better of him. Jim had never been more grateful in his life than when his crew respectfully turned away as he was sick into the bushes.

With a sour taste in his mouth, both literally and figuratively, he stood up straight and turned around. Having expected sympathetic stares, Jim was surprised when no one said a word and Bones just returned Jim's arm to its place around his shoulders.

Scotty simply patted him on the back, saying, "Happens to the best of us, lad."

Jim nodded, giving a shaky sort of smile in return, but didn't really believe that. No, he deserved this.

When he tripped over his own uncooperative feet, Sulu was suddenly there by his side, shifting Jim's weight, so he could sling an arm around his waist. Needless to say, it was bit weird. They never really interacted outside of the Bridge and the mess hall. Not that Jim didn't consider the man a friend; he did. They just weren't particularly close. He didn't really know much about Sulu besides the penchant for fencing and that thing he had with his plants.

Jim must've had a bizarre look on his face, because Sulu shrugged and said, "Family's there to catch you when you fall."

He'd deny it till he was blue in the face, but Jim's eyes burned a little at that statement, and he blinked furiously to prevent any tears.

His friends walked him back to his San Francisco apartment, and helped him lie down on the couch, getting blankets for both him and themselves. Jim decided his highlight of the night was when Uhura lightly kissed his forehead and thanked him for what he'd done, even if it was stupid. (Figured that, for a kiss, all he'd had to do was get his ass handed to him.)

His family stayed that night to keep him company, all dogpiled on various pieces of furniture.

Later, in the darkened living room, Jim observed the scene with a drowsy, content grin on his lips.

No matter what happened, his family would always have his back.