The Discovery

"Colonel?" Dr. Fraiser asked as she hurried over to O'Neill's side and knelt down beside him. She had come here to check on the Colonel quickly before she went home for the night, but as she walked into the room she saw him collapse.

"Colonel, can you hear me?" She laid a hand on his shoulder, and leaned in a little closer, trying to see if there was any reaction from him. The muscles under her hand were tensed and she could feel them vibrate slightly from the strain.

"Colonel?" she said again, loudly and urgently, as she tried to pry his arm away from his face. It didn't budge and no reaction showed that he knew she was there. Quickly, she reached around his arm and felt for a pulse. It was there and although it was very rapid, it was strong. She tried again to pry his arm away and again it didn't budge. She gave up and paused, blocking all the sounds in the room from her mind, she took a breath and focused on Colonel O'Neill. She could hear his breathing, it was shallow and ragged but it was there.

Suddenly, there was a cracking sound—like bones snapping—accompanied by ripping sounds and a grunt of pain from O'Neill. Startled, she pulled away.

"Sir?"

Still no response. She hesitated for an instant and then stood, ran across the room, grabbed an emergency kit, and was back beside the Colonel as fast as she could. Opening the kit, she grabbed a pair of scissors and half-cut-half-ripped away the back of the shirt of the scrubs he was wearing.

Just then two nurses jogged into the room. She hadn't called anyone, she didn't know why they were here, nor did she care. Upon seeing her, she heard them slow down and then stop a few feet away.

"Doctor?" one of them asked.

She held up her hand for silence and to stay them. Another sickening crack-crunching noise filled the air and this time she watched his bare back as his ribs seemed to change shape. But that's not possible. She could see the tensed muscles of his back rip and shift. With a grinding noise his shoulder blades shifted, altering position, and she heard his collar bone snap. He was physically changing from the inside out!

She was at a loss of what to do. She had no idea what she could do to stop it, nor whether she should or not. She could tranquilize him, give him a sedative, but as far as she could tell that wouldn't stop the progress. Besides, he already seemed to be unconscious.

The Colonel moved slightly, his position loosening a bit. She glanced over him and noticed that his bare feet were lengthening, his feet in general almost reshaping completely. Looking at his back again, she had to double take. Was that hair? Fur? Carefully, she reached out and touched his back. It was!

She heard an odd snarling sound and glanced up surprised to see that O'Neill's face was uncovered. His jaw and scull was also changing shape slightly, as were his ears, she noted. Her eyes widened as she saw the claws growing from his fingers.

Abruptly, her indecision of what she should do, ended. She couldn't do anything for him right now, the best she could do was contain him in case whatever was happening to him, made him dangerous. She stood and looked at the two unsure nurses.

"Out," she ordered as she jogged toward the door. Both people obeyed and left with her. Locking the door shut behind her, she turned one of the nurses. "Don't let anyone into this room. Don't open this door for anything." And without waiting for an answer from him, she turned on her heel and walked to the nearest phone, which was luckily only a few feet away. General Hammond should still be driving and this, he definitely needed to know.

She got through on his cell phone.

"Hammond."

"Sir, this is Dr. Fraiser, it's Colonel O'Neill, we have a problem."

"What the hell is going on?" General Hammond's voice came from the door, behind Janet Fraiser. After she had briefly spoken with the General on his phone, she had immediately headed back to the infirmary to see if she could find out something—anything about what was happening to the Colonel before Hammond got back. Twenty minutes on inconclusive tests, and she still hadn't gone back to the isolation room to see exactly what the Colonel had turned into.

"Frankly sir, I don't know." She turned frustratedly away from the microscope and headed out of the lab, Hammond walking with her. She briefed him as they walked.

"Outside of the vector, i.e. Colonel O'Neill's cells, the virus is still active—and the mutations are still happening. But why he's changing to this degree, I don't know. His body is somehow reshaping itself at an exponential rate," she said as they turned down a hallway.

"What's your best guess doctor?" Hammond asked calmly, she had his full attention, even if he wasn't sure he understood exactly what was happening.

"My guess is that there must've been some kind of catalyst, which was probably triggered by a higher brain function," she answered as she opened the door to the small observation area behind the isolation room. She walked up to the one way mirror and stopped, Hammond came up beside her. What they saw silenced them both. All she could do was stare at the creature.

Its fur was grey brown in colour, roughly the same colour as O'Neill's hair, her mind seemed to note unconsciously. It was moving on all four legs and was roughly dog or wolf shaped… only bigger, thicker. Its legs were abnormally thick for a canine and its back was broader. Its muzzle was short and thick as well, and where the fur stopped, the nose skin was pink. Its ears were small and pointed, pressed back against its scull. The creature's tail was short, about half as long as a regular sized tail for a dog, as far as she could tell, anyway.

"What the hell? Are you sure that's Colonel O'Neill?" Hammond asked sounding a bit angry.

"Yes sir," she said certainly, and she realized it was true. This creature matched up with what she saw when she watched the Colonel changing.

"Doctor, are you trying to tell me that my second in command is some kind of a… a werewolf?" the General asked disbelievingly.

She hesitated before answering, looking out of the window-mirror at the wolf-like creature. "Apparently, sir." She couldn't quite believe it herself.

As soon as the wolf had woken up he had been in pain. Much more than he was supposed to be in. His whole body hurt and it had been a struggle just to stand up. He couldn't remember anything that had happened to make him feel this way, but he did, so he allowed himself time to feel better. He hadn't moved for a while and instead inspected his surroundings with his senses. It smelt of prey. Prey for which he had a deep rooted craving. But, as he further inspected the area he discovered, he could not sense any within his reach.

He could hear many things. Things he was both familiar and unfamiliar with. As though, he somehow knew they belonged there but they sounded different. Slowly, he got up. His body still hurt and he stood up tenderly, but the pain had gone down. Leisurely, he made his way around the edge of the room and it didn't take him long to discover he was trapped. And an anger began to build up within him. How dare anyone—let alone prey—trap him. He was the predator, he was the powerful one—he was an alpha male.

He growled loudly, yet nothing answered him back. And there was no smell of fear. No one heard him, and if they did they did not fear him. He would change that. Angrily, he resumed circling the prison.

That was when he heard it. A slight add on to the sounds he already heard. Very quiet, but there. Lifting his head, he tried to pinpoint where it had come from and stalked unhurriedly across the area, listening carefully. He heard it again and looked up suddenly, to see another wolf look back. He tensed, ignoring his sore body as it flared in pain. The other wolf copied his action. Eying it warily, he sniffed the air. There was no scent. And if there was no scent, then it was not real. He relaxed a little and focused on listening for the sound again.

He heard it, very faint, but coming from the here, directly in front of him. He growled again, baring his teeth as he looked up at the unreal wolf. The sound stopped. After a pause he heard it again and he started to pace. Stalking a few paces to one side and then turning around, stalking back, all the while studying the thing that from which the sound came, and which showed a fake wolf copying his every move.

In his fury, he would have lunged at it had he the strength. His body was still sore and although he wasn't tired, he didn't want to risk further pain. He growled threateningly again.