The Medicine

Ow… ow… ow. There really wasn't anything like waking up with half one's body numb from painkillers and the other half in plenty of pain. Absolutely nothing. And his head hurt just thinking about it. No, wait, it hurt anyway. Damn it, there were just sometimes drug induced sleep was really, really nice. Right now would be one of them. Yes, sleep… where pain can't reach you.

"Colonel?"

Jack winced at the sound and then groaned as the slight movement sent bolts through his head. No, sleep would be really nice right now, Doc, honestly. Just need some more of those lovely drugs of yours. Lots, actually. Please?

"Colonel, you need to wake up. I can't let you sleep any longer," she said quietly, but sternly. She's stopped moving, standing next to his shoulder. He could hear the soft rustling of the papers she was probably looking through on her clipboard.

He opened his eyes slowly, and then quickly snapped them shut again. "Hey Doc, could the lights not be so bright?" the scratchy sound of his voice really ruined the crankiness he was trying to portray—portray? He was spending way too much time around Daniel—so he added on a groan for good effect.

"Sorry, sir, but the lights don't go lower unless they're off," she said kind of briskly. She was probably writing something down. Yep, he could hear the pen on paper.

He opened one eye part way and looked up at her, the light still stinging. She was standing a couple feet away and as predicted he could see her writing on the clipboard.

"So, what's up, Doc?" he asked, his voice still gravelly. He tried to clear it.

She glanced up at him. "I need to give you a shot." With that she began to turn away.

Faster than he thought his sore muscles could move, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. She stopped and looked back at him.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" He watched her steadily, doing his best to push the pain to the back of his mind. She hesitated briefly, before turning back and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He let go of her wrist.

"Let me give you this shot sir, and then I'll explain it to you," she said sincerely and he nodded just enough for her to see, the movement yet again making his head pound. He closed his eyes once more.

She rested her (as usual) cold hands on his forehead and tilted his head to the side gently. "Sir, I'm going to give you the injection here." She tapped the side of his neck a couple of times and then stuck the needle in. He decided right then that he preferred the needle-in-the-arm way. He kept still, trying not to think about the shot at all.

Barred from thinking about that, his brain choose to start thinking about his sore body, and to his surprise, he noticed that there were no other needles sticking out of him; actually, there was nothing attached to him, no monitors or… anything. At all. That was odd. He opened his eyes just as the Doc pulled the needle out, and glanced around the room.

From what he could see, without moving his head too much, there was nothing around him. Nothing. Very slowly, he lifted his head so that he could see the wall on the opposite side of where Fraiser stood. There wasn't any machinery to obstruct his view. Wasn't that where the heart monitor usually was? Resting his head back on the very nice soft pillow, he turned to look the other direction, to the wall behind the Doc. Again nothing—except her—prevented him from seeing the wall.

"Did I miss something?" he asked, looking back at her, and making a very conscious decision that he wasn't going to move his head anymore.

"What, sir?" Doc Fraiser looked up from the clipboard she was holding, yet again.

"Do you ever put that thing down?" he asked incredulously, glancing briefly at her clipboard.

She looked down at it and then smiled at him. "No, not unless I have to, sir."

He rolled his eyes. "Figures." He paused, and then remembered his train of thought. "So… you emptied the room? Did you find a cure?"

"Uh, no sir. This is a temporary inhibitor. We removed everything from the room for your safety. How do you feel, sir?" She looked at him questioningly—pen at the ready of course.

"Sore. Headache," he stated in the most irritated voice he could muster. "Now, what is wrong with me?" he enunciated each word. He didn't really care what the Doc said she needed to know, from here on out he wouldn't answer anymore of her questions until she answered his.

Sighing, she placed the clipboard down on a tray that was hidden behind her and leaned lightly against the edge of the bed, looking down at him. "Sir, I'm afraid the alterations the virus did to your genome had more impact on your body than we originally thought. It seems that given the right amount of stimuli your body physically changes… Sir, do you remember anything from last night?"

Jack would have shook his head under normal circumstances but he decided against it. "No. What do you mean 'changes'?" He didn't think he liked what she was getting at, not that he thought he'd really like the news anyway… But there was always that hope.

She took a deep breath. "Sir, you're a werewolf."

He stared at her blankly for a second, allowing this information to sink in. And then his expression turned suspicious. "What?"

"Yes sir, I'm serious. Last night, you went through certain physical changes that ended with you looking like some sort of… dog or wolf… We're still not sure what exactly caused this reaction, we're working on it sir." She looked at him concernedly.

He was still trying to allow this new revelation to actually sink in. He would really like this to be some sort of joke… or dream… or anything but the truth. But he had the distinct feeling that she wasn't lying, that she wouldn't lie about something like this, and he hurt way too much for this to be a dream. He's dealed with a lot of weird stuff involving the Stargate so he could quite possibly be a werewolf. Aside from the fact that it was a fictional being, myth, thing… Key word here being 'fictional', as in fake, not real, not… whatever, just… not… real! And he told her as much.

"A werewolf?" he asked incredulously. "With the whole full moon thing and everything?" Okay, that question didn't come out quite right.

She nodded and even smiled a little bit. "'With the whole full moon thing and everything'."

He suppressed an almost automatic nod, when suddenly, his whole body erupted in pain. It felt like it was ripping him apart from the inside out, and he curled up tightly on his side, letting out a small groan. It rang in his ears, and throbbed through his body, and the few seconds it lasted felt like forever. Replacing the pain that nearly vanished as fast as it began, was an oh-so-pleasant feeling of nausea.

Grabbing the edge of the bed, he managed to pull himself over it, extending his legs so that when his feet hit the floor, he was in a semi-upright position. With one hand still gripping the bed, his whole body shook with the effort to keep him standing momentarily distracting him from his need to barf. Unfortunately, it didn't last long and he pressed the forearm of his free hand against his stomach. He suddenly became aware of the Doc's hand on his shoulder and glanced sideways at her. He tried to focus on her voice as the whole room tilted one way and then the other.

He grimaced and closed his eyes, spitting out the word "bucket" in answer to whatever the Doc had said. He was sure it was something along the lines of a concerned 'what's wrong?' type question. He could feel the Doc's hand disappear from his shoulder, and then it was back and something cold was pressing against the back of his free arm.

And then, abruptly, everything seemed to stop. The pain and nausea in his body almost completely gone and he felt a restless rush of energy run through him like a jolt of electricity. He pushed the bucket away and backed away from the presence beside him, trying to orientate himself.

"What the hell?"