One Direction Sickfics

Niall sick- for CSI_Miami

My head rolled lazily to the side to see the numbers glowing on the clock, 5:14. Two hours before I had to get out of bed and start the day. My eyes widened as bile filled my mouth and instinctively I swallowed, gagging quietly on the acidic taste. It was yuck and it turned my stomach sour almost instantly. I whimpered involuntarily and took a moment to assess the strange swirling sensation. My stomach had been unsettled and anxious for the entire day due to the concert looming closer and closer but I hadn't felt this nauseous. I hadn't thought I was actually going to be sick though, now suddenly I wasn't sure.

I was far too exhausted to even think about how awful it would be to throw up right then without tears building in my eyes. It was too much to handle and soon a sob tore from my throat before I could stop it. It was like a powerful hit to the already weak barrier in my head and instantly the wall crumbled to dust, leaving me crying loudly and disgustingly about everything that had built up. Maybe I wouldn't've had such a reaction if I'd been getting enough sleep but at at this point even my fumes were running low and all I could do was continue sobbing despite each gasping breath stirring up my stomach even further.

"Hey! Shhhh, Ni, come here. Shhhhh..."

A pair of gentle hands guided me against a warm chest that smelled fresh out of the washing machine. It was some weird scented stuff that we'd picked up from some gas station sometime on our way. It'd been around long enough for me to recognise it as a familiar and safe smell, since it clung to the whole band.

Still barely short of wailing I butted pathetically into whoever had come to comfort me, burying my face in the soft cotton of their shirt. It quickly became damp and when I had to come up for fresh air I recognised Harry's wide green eyes crinkled in concern. He didn't say anything, instead just tugged me into a more comfortable hug where I could breathe the air over his shoulder.

It took a while for the tears to slow and even then with Harry's comforting arms wrapped around me I still felt sick to my stomach.

"This is really eating at you, isn't it?" Harry's quiet voice slit through the silence. Too tired to speak I nodded weakly, hoping that he'd feel the movement of my head.

"The waiting is the worst part, I promise you, and it's so close to being over. You're going to get up on that stage and start singing this afternoon and all this fear is just going to disappear."

My stomach lurched.

I scrambled out of Harry's lap but my legs wouldn't do what I asked them to so rather than run to the en suite I could do nothing but squirm on the mattress helplessly, hand over mouth.

Harry was only bewildered for a split second before his eyes lit up in understanding and he shot to his feet, "alright, it's okay Ni."

I gagged as he darted for the bin under the sink in the en suite, "hang on, I'll be right there. One second!"

I hadn't exactly had the largest appetite recently so the amount that actually came up into the bin when it was placed in front of me was quite feeble. That didn't mean it hurt any less, or that it was any less uncomfortable. My throat burned and my stomach felt just as mixed up as it had before the whole event.

When Harry tried to take the bin away I shook my head and weakly hit his hand away, "no."

"No better after that?" He pulled a pitying face, eyebrows cinched together and eyes soft around the edges.