Author's Note: Mother's DAY! Had to spend time with mommy (and grandma)
otherwise this would have been up sooner, most likely. So blame my mom!
..
He slept most of the day. Which was a sure sign that even though he'd woken up and had an actual conversation, Colonel O'Neill was far from recovered from his injuries. He would have slept longer, except Janet Fraiser woke him twice to run some reflex tests, and another time Jaffer woke him wanting to go out – luckily for all parties concerned, Teal'c was close at hand and Carter asked him to take Jaffer for Jack. Sam had sat and talked to Jack while they were out, knowing that Jaffer's return would just wake him up again anyways, and O'Neill was willing to stay awake for a little while. But he was tired, and luckily the black lab came back half an hour later, looking more than ready to resume his own nap.
"Colonel?"
A voice broke into his sleep, but Jack decided to ignore it. He really just wanted to rest. Somewhere inside him there was a place that just wasn't right, yet, and he had no desire to move around – or even open his eyes – until that place was normal again. Had he mentioned it to Fraiser, Janet could have told him it was from the substantial blood loss he'd suffered. His strength wasn't back, and he was tired, and it would pass as soon as he caught up. Until then, he was just going to be lethargic.
He didn't mention it to her, though. Aside from those few times, he blatantly ignored everyone's efforts to wake him, even Sam's. He knew – deep down – that Carter didn't mind letting him sleep, and wanted him to rest, so he didn't even have to feel guilty about ignoring her. Fraiser just wanted to poke him with needles, and Jack knew – even as sleepy as he was – that she could do that without his assistance. The only one he really had to rouse himself for was Jaffer, and his lab was feeling pretty miserable as well, despite being already well on the road to recovery, so Jaffer was more than willing to not ask much more of Jack than a warm side to cuddle against, and a thigh or belly to rest his head on.
"Colonel? Wake up a little, will you?"
He sighed. Whoever it was – and he was pretty certain it was Janet Fraiser – wasn't going to let him ignore her.
"I'm sleeping." He whispered.
"I know. We need to change the bandage on your leg."
"Okay." He slowly started to drift off again.
"Colonel?"
"Hmmm?"
"We need you to move Jaffer. He's in the way."
He wasn't that big, Jack thought petulantly as he sighed again and gave up. They probably could move the dog without help. Of course, they might hurt Jaffer, who was probably as sore as Jack, himself, and O'Neill couldn't let that happen. He opened his eyes, and sat up slightly, looking down at himself.
Janet Fraiser was there, along with one of the corpsmen. Who was actually a woman about the same age as Daniel. They were both eyeing Jaffer, who had his body pressed warmly against Jack's side, and his head resting gently on Jack's injured thigh. The one they were going to change the bandages on. The one they told him had been stabbed clear through with a piece of metal from his truck.
"Jaffer."
The black head came up, looking at Jack to see what he wanted.
"Go to the other side, little man. Doc needs that side." He made a motion with his arm – the one that didn't have all the tubes attached – and Jaffer sighed and stood up on the bed and then carefully stepped over Jack and plopped down on the other side.
"He sure is well trained," The corpsman said, smiling and admiring the black lab. He was a pretty dog, even rumpled and bandaged, after all.
"He's well-trained for the Colonel," Fraiser said, flipping the blanket to the side and exposing Jack's thigh. "He's deaf for pretty much everyone else."
"He's just misunderstood, Doc," Jack said, watching as Fraiser cut off the bandages, and wincing when she revealed the very long line of stitches that held his thigh muscles together. "Ick."
Ick was pretty accurate. Along with the nasty wound, there was a lot of bruising, and this was the first time Jack was getting a look at any of it. Since he wasn't wearing a paper gown – thank God – he could see that his chest and side were bruised as well. The left side, anyways. Apparently where his truck had slammed into him after the car had slammed into his truck.
"You were very lucky." Fraiser told him.
Jack shook his head. He knew better.
"I'm lucky I have a good doctor," he said, softly, looking up from his leg to look at her.
She brought her head up, expecting to see that cocky grin of his that meant he was teasing her, but his eyes were serious, and there was no smile. He meant it, and she wasn't sure how to take that compliment, since she was far more used to complaints and grumbling. So she ignored it, although she did flush slightly. Enough that she knew it was happening, but luckily not enough for O'Neill to notice.
"You'll be up in a few days, Colonel," She told him as she applied an antibiotic to the stitched area, just to make sure there'd be no chance of infection. "But I don't want you to be using the stairs until the stitches come out, and I don't want you on your feet for more than ten minutes at a time."
"But-"
"No buts." She told him. This was more what she was used to, and she fell into the pattern of bullying him quite easily. "If you rip my stitches trying to do too much too soon, I'll put staples in, and they hurt a lot more."
"Aw, Doc." He rested his hand on Jaffer's head. "How long till they come out?"
"A week, maybe more. Depends on you."
"How long do I have to stay in bed?"
"Considering how much trouble we had waking you? At least another couple days. Probably more."
He thought about complaining about that, but really... he was too tired to complain. He was too tired to do much more than scowl and watch as she put on a new bandage and wrap his leg with enough gauze to wrap around the Earth at least twice. He almost complained about that, too, but decided not to. She'd just give him some perfectly good reason for having so much, and then would shush him, anyways.
Fraiser rested her hand on his forehead, knowing when he didn't complain that there was a reason for it. Deciding that it would be okay to let him sleep sitting up a bit – now that he was regaining some color – she tucked a couple pillows behind his back to prop him up.
"Go to sleep, Colonel." She said, smiling when she remembered the compliment he'd given her. (She wished she had had a video camera or something, since no one would ever believe it!) "When you wake up next time, you should feel a little better, and maybe be up to eating something solid."
"Yeah?" He closed his eyes, his hand resting on Jaffer's bandaged side, now. He wasn't going to argue with her. "Like what?"
"Soup?"
"Soup isn't solid."
"Strained carrots?"
"Ugh..."
Her soft laughter followed him into sleep as Jack gave up the banter and gave into his exhaustion, content in the knowledge that he was truly in the best of hands.
..
He slept most of the day. Which was a sure sign that even though he'd woken up and had an actual conversation, Colonel O'Neill was far from recovered from his injuries. He would have slept longer, except Janet Fraiser woke him twice to run some reflex tests, and another time Jaffer woke him wanting to go out – luckily for all parties concerned, Teal'c was close at hand and Carter asked him to take Jaffer for Jack. Sam had sat and talked to Jack while they were out, knowing that Jaffer's return would just wake him up again anyways, and O'Neill was willing to stay awake for a little while. But he was tired, and luckily the black lab came back half an hour later, looking more than ready to resume his own nap.
"Colonel?"
A voice broke into his sleep, but Jack decided to ignore it. He really just wanted to rest. Somewhere inside him there was a place that just wasn't right, yet, and he had no desire to move around – or even open his eyes – until that place was normal again. Had he mentioned it to Fraiser, Janet could have told him it was from the substantial blood loss he'd suffered. His strength wasn't back, and he was tired, and it would pass as soon as he caught up. Until then, he was just going to be lethargic.
He didn't mention it to her, though. Aside from those few times, he blatantly ignored everyone's efforts to wake him, even Sam's. He knew – deep down – that Carter didn't mind letting him sleep, and wanted him to rest, so he didn't even have to feel guilty about ignoring her. Fraiser just wanted to poke him with needles, and Jack knew – even as sleepy as he was – that she could do that without his assistance. The only one he really had to rouse himself for was Jaffer, and his lab was feeling pretty miserable as well, despite being already well on the road to recovery, so Jaffer was more than willing to not ask much more of Jack than a warm side to cuddle against, and a thigh or belly to rest his head on.
"Colonel? Wake up a little, will you?"
He sighed. Whoever it was – and he was pretty certain it was Janet Fraiser – wasn't going to let him ignore her.
"I'm sleeping." He whispered.
"I know. We need to change the bandage on your leg."
"Okay." He slowly started to drift off again.
"Colonel?"
"Hmmm?"
"We need you to move Jaffer. He's in the way."
He wasn't that big, Jack thought petulantly as he sighed again and gave up. They probably could move the dog without help. Of course, they might hurt Jaffer, who was probably as sore as Jack, himself, and O'Neill couldn't let that happen. He opened his eyes, and sat up slightly, looking down at himself.
Janet Fraiser was there, along with one of the corpsmen. Who was actually a woman about the same age as Daniel. They were both eyeing Jaffer, who had his body pressed warmly against Jack's side, and his head resting gently on Jack's injured thigh. The one they were going to change the bandages on. The one they told him had been stabbed clear through with a piece of metal from his truck.
"Jaffer."
The black head came up, looking at Jack to see what he wanted.
"Go to the other side, little man. Doc needs that side." He made a motion with his arm – the one that didn't have all the tubes attached – and Jaffer sighed and stood up on the bed and then carefully stepped over Jack and plopped down on the other side.
"He sure is well trained," The corpsman said, smiling and admiring the black lab. He was a pretty dog, even rumpled and bandaged, after all.
"He's well-trained for the Colonel," Fraiser said, flipping the blanket to the side and exposing Jack's thigh. "He's deaf for pretty much everyone else."
"He's just misunderstood, Doc," Jack said, watching as Fraiser cut off the bandages, and wincing when she revealed the very long line of stitches that held his thigh muscles together. "Ick."
Ick was pretty accurate. Along with the nasty wound, there was a lot of bruising, and this was the first time Jack was getting a look at any of it. Since he wasn't wearing a paper gown – thank God – he could see that his chest and side were bruised as well. The left side, anyways. Apparently where his truck had slammed into him after the car had slammed into his truck.
"You were very lucky." Fraiser told him.
Jack shook his head. He knew better.
"I'm lucky I have a good doctor," he said, softly, looking up from his leg to look at her.
She brought her head up, expecting to see that cocky grin of his that meant he was teasing her, but his eyes were serious, and there was no smile. He meant it, and she wasn't sure how to take that compliment, since she was far more used to complaints and grumbling. So she ignored it, although she did flush slightly. Enough that she knew it was happening, but luckily not enough for O'Neill to notice.
"You'll be up in a few days, Colonel," She told him as she applied an antibiotic to the stitched area, just to make sure there'd be no chance of infection. "But I don't want you to be using the stairs until the stitches come out, and I don't want you on your feet for more than ten minutes at a time."
"But-"
"No buts." She told him. This was more what she was used to, and she fell into the pattern of bullying him quite easily. "If you rip my stitches trying to do too much too soon, I'll put staples in, and they hurt a lot more."
"Aw, Doc." He rested his hand on Jaffer's head. "How long till they come out?"
"A week, maybe more. Depends on you."
"How long do I have to stay in bed?"
"Considering how much trouble we had waking you? At least another couple days. Probably more."
He thought about complaining about that, but really... he was too tired to complain. He was too tired to do much more than scowl and watch as she put on a new bandage and wrap his leg with enough gauze to wrap around the Earth at least twice. He almost complained about that, too, but decided not to. She'd just give him some perfectly good reason for having so much, and then would shush him, anyways.
Fraiser rested her hand on his forehead, knowing when he didn't complain that there was a reason for it. Deciding that it would be okay to let him sleep sitting up a bit – now that he was regaining some color – she tucked a couple pillows behind his back to prop him up.
"Go to sleep, Colonel." She said, smiling when she remembered the compliment he'd given her. (She wished she had had a video camera or something, since no one would ever believe it!) "When you wake up next time, you should feel a little better, and maybe be up to eating something solid."
"Yeah?" He closed his eyes, his hand resting on Jaffer's bandaged side, now. He wasn't going to argue with her. "Like what?"
"Soup?"
"Soup isn't solid."
"Strained carrots?"
"Ugh..."
Her soft laughter followed him into sleep as Jack gave up the banter and gave into his exhaustion, content in the knowledge that he was truly in the best of hands.