"Malcolm for the love of ..." Tim began and without thinking he twisted at the waist to wheel back around into the room.

At least he got as far as twisted at the waist before pain strong enough to cause his vision to go black at the edges, and toss the contents of his stomach up to his throat hit with a vengeance. Breath was stolen from his lungs and Tim didn't even try to stay upright, letting himself drop to his hands and knees with the instinctive desire to curl in a ball and protect his vulnerable mid-section.

About the only saving grace to the whole situation was the fact that he managed to swallow down the bile, rather than pitching it all over the floor.