Being sick. It was a damn nightmare for Jack. Jack was like Quinn. When he was sick, that poor boy was down for the count. Jack rarely ever got sick, and when he did, hell, it was not pretty. Once, Jack was sick during a game, and he damn near barely made it to the trashcan, almost puking on you.

Now, Jack had just turned 19. It was his second to last game for the USA Juniors after being drafted for the New Jersey Devils. And boy, that poor kid was miserable.

You being Jack's oh so darling lover was taking care of him. That was after he puked on you. Not once, but twice. But you decided to stick it out. It was an accident. It wasn't like he intentionally puked on you.

Currently, you had just gotten out of the shower and changed and finally got back over to Jack, who was lying in bed, miserable. When sick, Jack shivered from time to time like a leaf on a thin branch.

You gently moved Jack's hair off his forehead, and that's when he looked at you. He was miserable. Absolutely miserable. "Oh, my sweet baby..." You muttered, lightly helping Jack sit up against the pillows. "C'mon, Jack... You gotta take your meds.." You said lightly.

"No..." Jack grumbled, glancing to you again. "I'll just puke it up..." he grumbled, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he slumped against you, his head against your shoulder.

"Jack.." You said with a soft smile, brushing back Jack's hair. "C'mon, hun... You'll feel better..." You reassured.

Jack glanced at you, his eyes looking like a puppy who had been kicked too many times. "Fine...." he whimpered, burying his face into your shoulder.