Concussion, broken bones, bullet wounds, stab wounds………
Whenever the Colonel was suffering from any of these injuries, he would make it his mission in life to escape the infirmary in the shortest amount of time possible, astounding both myself and my staff with his amazing recouperative powers.
Which is why I find myself now looking at the man in question, wondering if he's been replaced by a clone….or even alien.
"Doc……" His voice is barely a croak but he still manages to make it sound like a whine.
I paste a smile on my face and step down into the lounge, trying to ignore the fact that Daniel has scurried into the kitchen to hide.
Colonel O'Neill is sprawled on his couch, almost invisible under a pile of blankets. On the coffee table in front of the couch is a box of tissues, a glass of water, an assortment of over the counter cold remedies and a tub of aspirin.
"Hey, sir. I see you're still not feeling any better." I cleared away some space on the coffee table and sat down, trying to locate the man under the blankets.
There was some shuffling movements and finally I was rewarded with a bleary looking Jack. I admit he did look awful. His eyes were bloodshot, his nose was red and sore and he was as white as a sheet.
"Doc, my head feels like it's going to explode, my throat feels like sandpaper and my chest still hurts."
I struggled to hear the raspy voice but then wondered why I bothered? It was the same response I'd received over the past three days. I allowed myself a genuine smile as I wondered what the Goa'uld would say if they saw the fearless leader of SG1 now?
"Colonel, Daniel's brewing up some herbal tea that I brought over. I want you to drink it because it'll help soothe your throat and help relax your breathing."
I was rewarded with a bout of coughing, which was followed with a whimper. "Please, doc…..can't I have some drugs. Knock me out…….anything…..until either I die or feel better."
"No, sir. As I have already explained. If I had a cure for the common cold, believe me I wouldn't be working for the Air Force. I'd be out enjoying life with the billions of dollars I'd earned by selling the cure to big drug companies." I pressed my hand against his forehead. I didn't need a thermometer to tell me that his temperature was improving.
"Sir, you are getting better, albeit a little slower than Cassie. She was up and out of bed within 36 hours."
He sniffed. "Yeah, but kids always bounce back quicker."
I shook my head in defeat and looked across at Daniel, who'd entered the room with a steaming mug of tea.
Without a word, I vacated my position on the coffee table to give Daniel room.
"Jack." Daniel waved the mug of tea in front of the pitiful man on the couch. "Drink this."
The Colonel hauled himself up into a semi sitting position, took the tea, sniffed it suspiciously and then pushed it back at his friend.
Daniel folded his arms and refused to take the mug back. "Drink it, Jack. It'll make you feel better."
"No."
Standing behind Jack, I smothered a laugh. The Colonel sounded like a four year old.
"It'll help you sleep." Daniel was now cajoling the older man. "And it'll help with your throat."
"No."
I watched with delight as Daniel fixed him with a glare.
"If you don't drink it, Jack. I'll leave you here to suffer alone."
The silence hung in the air, interrupted only by a couple of sniffs from the couch. Then the tea was drunk and the empty mug handed back to Daniel.
"Thank you." Daniel took the mug, looked round and grinned at me.
Still struggling not to laugh, I crouched down next to the Colonel. "Try and sleep, sir. You'll feel much better for it."
He nodded and began to bury himself back under the blankets. As Daniel took the mug back out to the kitchen, I remained where I was and watched as the Colonel's eyelids began to close and his raspy breathing evened out. Once I was sure he was asleep, I made my move to leave.
"Daniel, I'm going." I pulled my jacket on. "I'll drop by tomorrow morning on my way to the base. Do you need anything?"
Daniel emerged from the kitchen. "We're good, Janet, thanks. Sam came by earlier with a fresh stock of tissues and chicken soup." He laughed. "I'm sure our big, tough special ops Colonel is beginning to feel a little better even if he won't admit it."
Still grinning, I left the house and walked to my car.
Concussion, broken bones, bullet wounds, stab wounds………they didn't stop the Colonel.
But as for the common cold………………………….
The End.