A few minutes and two elevator rides later…
"Ow!" Jo exclaimed hoarsely as she stumbled yet again. Walking in an unexpectedly modified body took a lot of practice, and the occasional flashes of pain didn't help.
"Are you alright, Jo?" Janet immediately asked as she helped the faulty clone to her feet.
"I've been better," Jo replied huskily. "I think I'll… stop talking for a while."
"That would be a wise choice," Janet agreed. "If only the Colonel…"
"Janet, you shouldn't talk about Colonel O'Neill like that," Sam chided.
Janet looked around guiltily, half expecting the Colonel to appear from some doorway. Fortunately he didn't.
"Whoa," Jo muttered as she unsteadily stepped into the infirmary. "I'm feeling… loopy." She did indeed sound rather drowsy. As Sam and Janet moved to steady her, she transitioned into unconsciousness and slumped bonelessly in their grasp. In seconds, she was placed on a gurney and appropriate monitoring devices were attached.
"Blood pressure and heartbeat are a little high… no, they're dropping back to acceptable levels," Janet read. "Breathing is normal for a sleep-state. She's in no immediate danger so I'll take a blood sample and begin diagnosis. She prepared a needle and drew a sufficient sample.
"Yow!" Jo gasped, suddenly wakening. "Was that necessary?"
"Yes," Janet replied simply. "Try to relax."
"I should get back to my lab," Sam stated. "Call me if you learn anything, or if … something happens."
"I'll do that, Sam," Janet promised.
-
Half an hour later…
Jo lay as still as possible, as her nerves were still acting up. The pains had mostly stopped, but she still felt incredibly uncomfortable. She had avoided speaking any further, as her vocal cords still seemed wrong. There was nothing to do but consider how weird this was and hope that Thor would show up soon to make it all better.
"Jo." Janet had returned and sought her attention. "I have some preliminary results."
"Hmm?"
"I still don't know what's happened to you, but I've been able to determine that it's not anything communicable. You can take off your protective suit now."
"Great," Jo muttered.
"Why so glum, that sounds like great news," said an especially unwanted but not entirely unexpected voice.
"Colonel O'Neill, what brings you to my infirmary?" Janet asked sternly.
"I've come to check on Mini-Me, of course. What's the prognosis, Doc? Is he fixable?"
Jo let out a groan of annoyance.
"Colonel, my patient's condition is somewhat… private," Janet argued.
Beneath the mask and red hood, Jo's eyes rolled.
"You heard the Doc, kid, off with the HAZMAT. Don't let me stop you," Jack urged.
Jo sighed in resignation and pulled off the head-covering part of her protective gear.
Jack blinked. "That's new. Care to explain how you got your hair so long, Mister?"