In the middle of the night he wakes up and barely manages to get his head over the basin provided. Retching and gagging he expells the oatmeal and bananas he ate. Frasier was right. A beer and a steak coming up would have ruined his taste for them. Not that he'll ever say that.
"GAH!" Jack blows his nose and tosses the tissues into the small pail on the table. Flopping back on the bed, "I hate it when she's right," he grumbles. He winces at how nasally he sounds.
"Me too, sir." Sam whispers.
They share a gagging laugh. "It wouldn't be so bad, if I didn't have to heave my guts up." Jack finally manages.
"It could be worse, sir." Sam reminds him. "The plague was pretty bad."
"Or the touched disease." They shudder at the reminders. "The flu vs. ole Doc Frasier." He muses. "We'll be better in time for the weekend."
"Yep," Sam whispers. "Night sir."
"Night, Carter."
They fall into an uneasy rest until the next morning.
Janet comes in for her morning shift and if she allows herself a smirk at Jack O'Neill's expense when she sees his updated chart, no one knows it.
She visits Major Carter first. "Hi Sam," her friend is pale and the shadows under her eyes tell the doctor she hasn't gotten much rest.
Carter nods. Her throat is too sore to talk much. Janet checks the chart and is pleased to see her friend's temp is coming down. She hasn't vomited in several hours.
"Okay, after some fluids it's time for a bath." Janet announces. She calls down for broth and some ice. "I want you to take these pills," Janet hands over some vitamins and a pain reliever. Sam gulps down the pills and hopes she can keep them down. Sam sips the broth when it arrives. The hot liquid eases her sore throat for a while.
After the broth is finished, Janet helps her friend to one of the bathrooms. A hot bath has been run and Sam sinks gratefully into the tub. She feels all grubby.
"Sam, just in case, there's a basin on the side." Janet tells her. Janet pulls the curtain closed again and leaves the bathroom.
"Thanks, Janet." She whispers. The hot water soaks into her muscles and the aches and soreness gradually ease. Sam relaxes in the tub. She closes her eyes and sighs in relief.
Back in the infirmary, Jack O'Neill is throwing up his broth. He gags one more time and collapses back on his pillows.
Janet hands him some ice chips and he spits out the after taste. He sucks on a few ice chips easing his thirst and the sore throat. After finishing the ice he gets a thermometer stuck in his mouth.
"You're getting better, sir," she announces cheerfully.
He glares at her. "This is better?" he tries to growl at her.
She smiles at him. "Your fever is down, you aren't throwing up the melted ice water." She's seen other flu patients throw up the ice water almost instantly. "And you aren't as congested as Sam was." Janet shakes down the thermometer.
"Great." He mutters.
"Later, if you keep the broth and meds down, you can take a bath, like Sam." She says. "I promise you're getting better."
"If you say so." Jack closes his eyes and falls asleep. He sleeps for several hours. "Colonel O'Neill," Janet calls.
Jack groans. His eyeslids feel glued together. The full bladder motivates him to answer the doctor. "Yeah,"
"Come on, sir." Janet encourages him. "Time for some fluids."
Jack winces. He opens his eyes. "In a minute." He swings his legs over the bed. He'll be damned if he uses a bedpan. His knees feel a little wobbly, but he manages to hobble to the bathroom.
Janet has a cup of broth for him and some water waiting. She holds out some pills which he gulps back. "They better stay down," he grumbles.
After half a cup of broth he feels more like himself to ask about the team, "Carter is better? How're Daniel and Teal'c?"
"Daniel and Teal'c are fine. Neither one of them had any infection." His eyes narrow at that. "Major Carter is recovering well. If you both continue on this path, you'll be home on Saturday." Janet grins at him. "That means doing what I say," she warns him.
A flash of defiance crosses his face. Janet can almost hear the phrase 'Napoleonic power monger,' but the Colonel nods. The lure of a steak and beer in his own backyard is too strong.
"Good. If you keep the broth and pills down for another 30 minutes you'll get in the bath." Janet promises.
Jack grumbles, "Rather have a shower," to no one in particular.
"It really helps, sir." Carter's voice comes strong and cheerful through the curtain.
"Hey, Carter!" Jack reaches out and pulls the curtain back a little. "How'ya doing?"
"Haven't thrown up in a whole day, sir." Sam chuckles. "Janet let me have blue Jello today."
Jack laughs a little. In truth his stomach is less upset than yesterday and he feels sore, but not like someone worked him over with a baseball bat. "Major progress, Major."
Sam giggles. "Hey no giggling!" Jack flops back on his pillows. He blows his nose and takes a deep breath. He reads a few more pages of the book Teal'c brought him.
Finally Janet returns. "Okay, sir time for your bath." She cuts him off. "I know you prefer a shower, but you can't stand for that long. You're in the bath for 30 minutes at least."
By the time he gets to the bathroom and peels off his scrubs, he admits to himself the doc was right. His legs are trembling and his back is killing him. Jack sinks gratefully into the hot tub. "Ah," he sighs.
An hour later he's back in fresh scrubs and the aches have disappeared for a little while. He fleetingly hopes for a better meal than beef or chicken broth and red jello. His hopes are dashed when he sees his tray. Chicken soup, red jello, juice and pills.
"Ah, the celebrated 3 star cuisine of the base hospital." He announces.
"You're feeling better, sir," Carter observes. She got a bread roll with her soup and jello.
Jack quirks an eyebrow. "Do tell."
"First crack about hospital food since we got home." She explains.
"It's easy on the stomach," Janet sweeps in and has heard the last part of the conversation. "Just like oatmeal and bananas."
Jack glares at her. She's schooled her face into a bland mask, but he knows she's laughing internally. He crawls into bed and picks up his spoon. The chicken soup is good. Some green leafy vegetable instead of mushy carrots, small chunks of chicken and little pieces of pasta. Sooner than expected his soup is gone. He sips the juice and wonders if he could hide the pills. But the jello beckons and he swallows them down.
Picking up his book he flips to a new article. "Sweet." He mumbles.
"Did you say something, sir?" Carter asks from behind the curtain.
"Nothing to worry about, Carter." He starts reading. After 6 pages his eyes are drooping closed. A rustle of paper signals he's fallen asleep while reading and the journal has dropped out of his hands.
He wakes up hours later. Shoving himself out of bed and gritting it out to the bathroom gives him a thrill of pride. "It's come to this." He mutters resentfully. "I travel the galaxy, fight bad guys, save the world and peeing alone is the highlight of my week."
Jack washes his hands and splashes cool water on his face. Getting back into bed, he closes his eyes. He feels better, just weak.
"How're you feeling, Colonel?" His eyes pop open. Frasier is standing over him.
"I need a shave," he announces.
"Ah, feeling much better." She shoves the thermometer in his mouth. "Cassie says hi, and get better," Janet tells him. "She misses you."
He glares at her. Using Cass like that to guilt him into following her orders is low.
She pulls the thermometer out his mouth, "Hmm, back to normal." She orders him another bath. "Sam is going home tonight. I'll release you tomorrow morning." Janet turns away, "If you behave yourself!"
Washed, shaved, his hair shampooed and in a clean shirt and sweats he feels almost himself again. Janet left out scrubs for him, but Teal'c smuggled in clothes from the locker room.
"Hi, sir," Carter appears at his bedside. She's dressed in her street clothes.
"Going riding, Carter?" He notes the leather jacket, boots and jeans.
"Oh, no. Just what was in the locker." Sam shrugs and leans closer. "Laundry day." He catches a whiff of her soap.
He barks out a laugh. "Too bad. Probably a nice day to ride," he says wistfully.
Sam shakes her head. "Raining." She looks disappointed though. "General Hammond ordered us on downtime. I'll be home for a few days."
Jack shoves his pillows around. He's able to sit up more easily. "What no experiments, no science emergencies?"
Sam shakes her head. "I was going to ask for some leave anyway, sir." She admits.
Jack's surprised, but he doesn't show it. "Okay. Enjoy."
"When do you get to go home?" she asks.
"He'll be released tomorrow, most likely," Janet tells her. "Luckily for both of you, it was just a mild flu bug."
"Yeah, lucky us," O'Neill mutters. He knows it could have been worse. But it doesn't mean he had to like a mild flu bug.
"See you later, sir." Sam leaves him to the tender mercies of the nurses.
