The Escape

"Gee, Jack, you weren't desperate to get out of there," Daniel said with dry sarcasm.

"Shut up, Daniel. You try being stuck in there with nothing to do for hours on end," he said pretending to be annoyed. He wasn't really; he was far too relieved to be out of there with people who would actually be willing hold a conversation with him for any amount of time.

"So, what do you want to do sir?" Carter asked interrupting what could possibly escalate into anything from banter to argument.

"I'm starving. Let's eat." Jack said happy to finally get to be able to leave the level. God, he never wanted to go back down there.

Over two hours later, Jack was back down in the Room of Doom with two guards posted outside his door. Okay, he hadn't exactly tried to escape, it wasn't as if he had wanted to disappear from the base or anything… he… just… didn't want to come back down here. So, when the hour was up, he attempted to stay out just a little bit longer. He had tried to reason with his team, to get them to ask Fraiser if he could stay out a few more minutes. Unfortunately, Daniel had been all adamant and started to argue with him—that argument actually lasted a while now that he came to think of it.

But then the SFs showed up (per Fraiser's instructions) and ruined everything. After that, everything went haywire. He got pissed off for no reason and he knew that, yet he couldn't help it. Or control it. Before he knew it, he had growled at the SFs and was running down a hallway. He managed to stop himself just before he opened an emergency escape hatch. That was when Teal'c hit him with a Zat. Where the hell did he get that from anyway?!

He decided right then, that he didn't like Zats anymore. It just can't be healthy to get shot. And he's been shot more times than he bothered to keep count of!

Jack rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. Damn it, he was starting to feel sick again! Hasn't he felt sick enough for one lifetime! He knew it wasn't still from the Zat; that was too long ago. He glanced over at the clock and then sat up. 2010 hours. And he was going to puke. Right now.

He grabbed the bucket that was under the tray the clock was on, slipping off the bed, and heaved up most of his stomach contents into it.

With a frustrated sigh, Janet slammed the folder closed and leaned back in her chair. Allowing her sore eyes to close, she made a conscious decision to leave the problem until tomorrow. If there even was a problem. There were slight chemical and hormonal imbalances throughout O'Neill's body, which was expected because of the virus and mutations, but every time she looked at it, she got a feeling there was something wrong with it. Something she was over looking or just not seeing, that she should be. What it was, she couldn't figure out.

Getting up slowly, she stretched and decided that an hour of reading the same report over and over deserved a break. She'd ask Dr. Layr to take a look at it tomorrow morning. There was nothing she could do about it now… Looking through some of the files on her desk, she noticed that there seemed to be less than earlier and then remembered that she had given some of the reports to Dr. MacKenzie.

She had requested that he be brought on because of the Colonel's erratic behavior. She wanted to know what was causing it, and psychology/psychiatry wasn't exactly an expertise of hers. Plus she already had her plate full.

Deciding that she'd show the chart to MacKenzie tomorrow as well, she glanced over at the clock. Damn, she was late! She was supposed to check on O'Neill half an hour ago!

Quickly, she jogged out of her office and along the familiar path to the isolation room.

When she reached the isolation room, she immediately started to go for the door, but then hesitated, checking her watch. It was 2100 hours—when was the moon supposed to rise? Was there even that close a relation between the two? She wondered what it was that actually stimulated the initiating reaction and how it could possibly relate to the rising of the full moon, as she made her way along the corridor to the observation room as a precautionary measure.

Turning into the small room, she knew almost instantly that she was too late. O'Neill was curled up, like the first time she had seen him, against one of the bare walls in the room. It looked almost like he had been sitting against the wall and then curled over in pain. She sighed and unconsciously held her pen tighter as she mentally prepared herself for watching it again.

"How is he doctor?" came the familiar voice of General Hammond from the doorway.

She almost started at his sudden appearance and then sighed. "Probably in a lot of pain." She gestured toward the prone figure as Hammond came up beside her.

He too sighed as he looked out through the window-mirror at his second in command. There was a quiet, tense pause as they watched the man's tremor wracked body begin to alter it shape, before he spoke up again, turning to Dr. Fraiser. "Doctor, I'm not sure what I'm gonna do. If this is permanent, I may not be able to put Colonel O'Neill back on duty. But he may not be able to leave the base because of his condition. Tell me you've got something…"

"Sir, if I may…" Janet paused briefly then continued when he nodded, "If—and I put emphasis of the 'if'—the legends Daniel has been telling me about are the truth then this should only happen when there's a full moon. That only happens, roughly once a month. According to the stories, the rest of the days they act as normal, healthy humans."

"What about his erratic behaviour?" Automatically, Hammond glanced back at the figure in the room which was now more than half-way changed into wolf-like form underneath the baggy infirmary clothes.

"You'll have to talk to Dr. MacKenzie about that; or maybe whomever they're sending from the planet to help. But I do know, that if he has to stay here long term, he needs something to do other than think about what's wrong with him. It's probably not helping his mental state, either." She looked back at her patient, and scribbled down a few things she observed about the mutation, before glancing back at the General. "Anyway, these people probably know more about their own condition than we do, so…" She shrugged.

"I have all intentions of waiting for some answers from these people doctor. I just haven't done up my report yet, and was hoping for a little progress before I do." The last update he'd given his superiors, was that Colonel O'Neill had a none contagious virus and his report was about a day overdue. Maybe he'd put it off a little longer, after he got some answers.

She gave him a slight knowing smile. "Sorry, sir."

The wolf stretched languidly as he woke up, yawning widely. His muscles were still sore, though not half as much as the other night. He knew that the longer he was awake the more the pain would diminish. It was an instinct he knew of himself.

As he began to get up, he simultaneously managed to wriggle out of the material constricting his movements. Being free from the cloth, though, didn't do anything to put him in a good mood as he realised that he still remained inside the prey's trap. In fact his anger rose again. However it was slightly tempered by the determined decision that he would find his escape route tonight. He could feel his own strength start to pulse through him as the soreness in his muscles began to dim. He licked his lips—perhaps tonight he would be able to exact his revenge…

A slight thrill went through him at the thought, but he pushed the feeling down for now. He would be patient for his chance, and he would take pleasure in the smell of their fear as they recognize that they are the trapped ones.

But first, his break out.

He circled the room a few times, before ending up at the same place as the other night. The side of the trap that the scents led to. He began to pace in front of this confusing anomaly. How could this be? There must be something in which the prey was escaping the trap. And therefore, a way for him also.

For a very long time he scouted the area, over and over he was led to no conclusion, for how it was done, until finally, he realised the scents were not only on the ground, but on certain parts of the side as well. Following where the scents were strongest he started to nose the wall curiously.

Janet sighed and put the last test results of the night down. She needed sleep. One last check on O'Neill and then home. If she was awake enough to drive home… She was debating whether to just take a VIP room. Sam said she'd take care of Cassie for her so she didn't have to worry about that.

Shaking her head, she put it out of her mind for now, and made her way back to where the Colonel was. She glanced at her watch quickly. It was only 2430 hours and she wondered briefly how it could feel so much later.

There wasn't a guard for the door to the room. Between her and Hammond it was decided that it would be pointless this late at night when O'Neill wasn't even human enough to try to get out. You'd need either an ID card or the sequence of numbers that most nurses used to get out because it was faster and easier. Although it was completely possible to lock out the keypad so that it just relied on the ID card, that wasn't really necessary for the Colonel. She knew he didn't know the key code.

Turning into the observation room she froze. Through the window-mirror all she could see was an empty room.