Title: Even Doctors Get Sick

Rating: T There is some mild swearing. This is just to be safe.

Summary: When the good doctor is sick his number one patient is the one to take care of him.

Disclaimer: Although I wish I owned it (or at least one of them) I don't.

A/N: Ok, I'm one of the many newcomers to the Star Trek world after watching the new movie…but that's what they wanted right? I've watched very few of the original series and although I've done a little research I still don't know a whole lot. This is my best shot at being accurate and if you see mistakes, please let me know. But don't flame. If your reviews on fire I'm not going to read it, ok? Hope you enjoy this!

His head swam violently and his vision blurred around the edges as he brought himself into a seated position on the edge of his bed. He lowered his head slightly and took slow breaths, willing away the nausea that rose in his stomach. He scrubbed one hand at his face, pausing for a moment before flipping it over and feeling his forehead with the back. He frowned slightly at the realization that his fever had increased since his last observation. He sat still for a few moments more until the vertigo had eased and then gently rose to a standing position. He took note of his weak knees but then ignored them as he trudged his way to the small bathroom.

Once there he ordered the lights on with instant regret. His head pounded intensely and the nausea rose again. He took several deep breaths and splashed his face with water until the feeling ebbed again. He took a look at his reflection in the mirror and was slightly startled at his own appearance. His eyes were bright with fever, ringed with dark, sickly skin. The rest of his face was about three shades lighter than normal, except in his cheeks where the fever also showed itself. His head swam again and he braced himself against the sink, leaning his forehead against the blissfully cool mirror. He hadn't had one sick day in the close to two years he had been aboard the Enterprise and he didn't want to start now. However, since he had hardly managed to make it the ten feet from his bed to where he was standing now, he was pretty sure he wouldn't make it to sickbay. Letting out a small groan he ordered the light back off and exited the bathroom.

Once he was back in the main room he ordered the computer to page Nurse Chapel in sickbay. He waited impatiently during the brief lapse before she responded.

"Dr. McCoy?"

"Yeah," he said before trying to muffle a few coughs that would give him away. "I have a few things I need to attend to before I report this morning." Like sleep, he thought. "Can you handle things without me for a while?"

"Sure, doctor."

"Alright, thanks." As soon as the communication ended he stumbled back to sit on the edge of his bed. He sat for a moment, longing for a hypo full of painkillers, or even some good old-fashioned aspirin. Having no energy to acquire either he simply collapsed back into the bed, heaving a loud sigh before falling back into unconsciousness.

Back in sickbay, Nurse Chapel was still pondering the odd page from Dr. McCoy. It certainly was plausible that he had duties to attend to on other parts of the ship, but he had sounded a little strange. He also had a couple of appointments set for this morning, including the Captain. He hadn't asked her to cancel them for him, but she decided to anyways figuring that they had probably just slipped from his mind, which in itself was unusual. They weren't anything of a pressing manner; they were just the routine physicals that the crew members were required to have every few months. She made the necessary calls to cancel the appointments, the Captain being the last. After this she looked around the sickbay, and not seeing any patients that needed her immediate care she sat down at her desk to update a few patient padds, all the while still trying to find an underlying cause to the CMO's absence.

Jim Kirk was walking at a hurried pace through the hallway. He had just been paged on the bridge by Nurse Chapel regarding the cancellation of his physical. Although he was relieved not to have to submit for it, he was a little worried. It was usually him that was trying to avoid any trip to sick bay, and Bones usually had to come drag him off of the bridge to get anything accomplished. But now the doctor had been the one to cancel, and as far as he knew there were no matters pressing enough to keep the CMO out of the office and that denied him a chance to torture the Captain.

As he stepped off the lift he stopped abruptly at the sight of two young cadets, new to the crew, coming to attention and saluting him. I'll never get used to that, he thought. He threw them back a lazy salute and hurried on his way to the doctor's quarters. He stopped outside the door and glanced briefly at the brass name plate stating "Dr. Leonard McCoy, CMO". It was the same action that he subconsciously did outside of his own door, never quite believing his own plate proclaiming, "Captain James T. Kirk". He knocked on the door and waited a few brief moments before knocking again a little louder. He knew the doctor was in there, he had checked his location before leaving the bridge. The fact that he was still in his quarters is what had driven the Captain to come up here. In the five years he had known him he had never seen Bones sleep in this late. Even on weekends back at the academy he would be up before the sun, either studying or getting ready for a shift at the clinic.

When a third knock failed to rouse the doctor, Jim punched in his security code and the door slid open with a hiss of air. He stepped inside the room, his eyes trying to see through the darkness. The door slid closed suddenly behind him, and all of the light from the hallway was doused. He took a few steps inside, forgetting about the small coffee table, and winced as his shin bone struck the edge of the wood. Fighting back a string of swear words he finally commanded the computer to turn the lights on to their lowest setting, deciding that not breaking something was more important than not disturbing the doctor. Once they were on, he quickly scanned the room before his eyes landed at the far wall where he could make out a crumpled form on the bed. When he got closer he noticed the man's breathing was faster than normal, and his hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat.

"Bones?" he called softly as he put one hand on the doctor's shoulder. He could feel the fever present even through the black Starfleet undershirt the other man was wearing. The intensity startled him and he shook the shoulder, trying to get an answer from the doctor. "Bones wake up," he ordered the sleeping figure. This was awarded by a small groan, and with the next nudge the doctor finally opened his eyes, glaring at the young Captain.

"Dammit, Jim. I was sleeping," he growled. Jim noticed the words were slightly slurred and held more of a drawl than usual.

"Sleeping or unconscious from fever?" he shot back, though his tone held no bite. "Are you thirsty?" he inquired to the semi-conscious form. He thought he caught glimpse of a nod and, not caring either way, spun around and walked over to the replicator. He ordered a room temperature glass of water, remembering Bones telling him something about fevers and cold water and a shock to the system. He made his way back to the bed and sat the glass down on the side table. He watched for a few seconds as the fevered man tried to push up into a sitting position. Finally, not wanting to watch him struggle anymore, he grabbed his friend under the arms and hauled him into a sitting position, leaning him back against the wall. He thought he heard the other man grumbling something about pride and embarrassment, but ignored the comments and handed him the glass of water. He watched the shaky hands struggle to hold the glass, and took it back as soon as Bones was finished in order to prevent a spill.

"Thanks," was all the hoarse voice could say before it was cut short by a round of coughing. Jim brushed the other man's brow again and frowned.

"You're burning up. I'm going to go to medical bay and get Nurse Chapel, ok? Don't go anywhere," he said with a look of concern before heading out of the quarters.

Not even having energy to try and protest all the ailing man could do was mumble a few curses as he slid back down into a lying position and slipped back into unconsciousness.

Hope you're enjoying the torture of Bones so far. I figured Jim gets hurt enough that it should fall on someone else for a change. Again, let me know of any inaccuracies…nicely please!