He woke up freezing. He shivered and tried to pull the blankets closer, but that didn't help. He finally gave up and rang for the nurse.
"How can I help you, Colonel?" Nurse Jenkins, one of his favorites, stepped in the room and up to his bed.
"I'm c-c-c-cold," he shivered. "Can I have another blanket?"
The nurse frowned, looking concerned, but then immediately answered. "Of course, Sir. I'll go get one from the blanket warmer. How would you like some tea as well – it'll warm you from the inside."
He started to shake his head as the idea of eating or drinking anything made him nauseous but then changed his mind. Maybe something hot would help.
"Okay," he said, shivering.
No more than a minute or two later, the nurse returned with not one, but two of the blankets. She quickly tucked them around O'Neill, and he indicated his thanks.
Jack buried himself under the blankets, hoping they'd take away the cold. While they did help a bit, he continued to shake.
A moment later the little power-monger, Janet, strode into the room. She was carrying a cup, which he presumed was his tea.
"Colonel, Nurse Jenkins tells me you're feeling cold. I brought you some tea and honey." She placed it on the table in front of him and then peered at him closely.
She grimaced slightly. "Sir, I think you're starting to feel some withdrawal symptoms. I'm going to give you something in your IV to try and help, but I can't promise anything. You may feel rough for a while, but my nurses and I will be here to make sure you get through this, okay?"
He nodded his head. "Still better than – hangin' out with – Ba'al," he shivered. "I trust you, Janet."
"Thank you, Colonel," she patted his leg. "And you know we'll do everything we can to help. And don't forget, your team is here as well."
"Not – Daniel," he told her softly.
She patted his arm again, although didn't say anything. They all still missed the space monkey, although none of them knew his role in Jack's recent adventure.
"Now, drink your tea, Sir. I'm giving you a mild sedative to hopefully help you sleep."
"Restraints?" he asked. He remembered what had happened with Daniel, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt someone when in a confused state. He could do a LOT more damage than Jackson. He could kill someone.
Janet sighed and looked at him with sympathy. "We can wait and see -"
"No," he interrupted. "Put them on me now. I – don't want to hurt anyone."
Janet sighed again. "Alright, although I hope they're not needed, Colonel. You may not react as badly as Daniel. He used the sarcophagus when he was healthy."
"Not dead, like me?" Jack said, sounding slightly bitter. He sighed and lifted the cup with shaking hands and took a sip of the tea. He didn't particularly want it, but it did warm him up a tiny bit.
Janet watched him for a moment and then gently patted his knee. "I'll go get that orderly, if you're sure, Sir?"
Jack just nodded and watched as Janet left the room. He took another sip of the scalding liquid and prayed that it would warm him up. He was still cold, although he also recognized that it was as much emotional as it was physical. His experience Chez Ba'al would stay with him for a long, long time.
By the time the orderly came in, Jack was drowsy from the sedative and was feeling a slight bit warmer, although every few seconds chills would run through his body.
"Sir?" The poor orderly was holding the restraints and looked extremely uncomfortable, which wasn't a surprise. He probably didn't have to put a senior officer in restraints very often – at least not while said officer was awake and aware.'
"It's okay, Airman," the Colonel said. "Uh – before you do that," he said, nodding to the restraints, "help me to the bathroom."
"Uh – are you – I'm not – did Dr. Frasier say -"
"I'm perfectly fine to walk to the bathroom – I'm just a bit wobbly. You can wait outside."
Jack knew he was being unfair to the poor young orderly, but there was no way he was going to use a damn bedpan – not while he was still coherent and able to walk. Janet would probably have his head, but he didn't care. He hated feeling helpless, especially after the last few days when he was completely at the mercy of a madman. He had no ability to control anything while in the hands of the System Lord – and he needed to reestablish at least some independence.
"Uh, okay, Sir," the orderly put down the restraints and then stood by the bed as Jack slowly turned and placed his feet on the floor. He needed help to stand, and felt incredibly weak and sick, but he refused to give in. After resting for a few seconds, he grabbed the IV poll and started to walk – at least he called it walking, although in reality he shuffled like an old man.
"Okay, you can wait here," he told the Airman as he stepped into the bathroom. The toilet felt like it was miles away, but he made it there and quickly emptied his bladder. The tea had helped warm him, but it had also gone straight through and the last thing he wanted to do was wet the bed, in case he started to really experience withdrawal.
After washing his hands, he made it to the door. It opened suddenly, and he almost fell flat on his face.
"Colonel!" a rather pissed looking Janet was standing there, with a very sheepish looking orderly standing beside her.
"Sorry Janet," O'Neill told her. "I had to go. Don't blame the orderly. I made him help me."
"I know, Sir," she sighed. "Here Jenkins, help me get him back to bed."
"I don't need - "
"Colonel, you look like you're ready to collapse and neither Airman Jenkins nor I want to have to try and pick you up off the floor. Just let us help you, okay?"
He nodded, too tired and breathless (and cold) to answer. When they arrived at his bed, he practically collapsed. Jenkins helped him lift his legs and then looked at Janet. She nodded and he began to place the restraints on Jack.
"I'm sorry, Sir," he said quietly.
"It's alright, Jenkins," O'Neill replied. "Thank you." His eyes were closed, and he was trying to relax and let the sedative send him to sleep. So far it wasn't working.
"Here you go, Sir," Janet tucked all the blankets over him once Jenkins was finished. She made sure the call button was pinned to the bed by his right hand. "In case you need something," she told him. "Now just try and sleep. Hopefully this will be the worst of it."
He nodded but didn't reply. A moment later he heard Janet's footsteps walking towards the door. He opened very sleepy eyes. "Thank you, Janet," he said.
"Of course, Sir," she turned and smiled at him. "You're going to be just fine. I'll come in and check on you in a little while, but if you need anything, just press the button."
He nodded and closed his eyes once more – praying he didn't have any nightmares.
He woke up shaking, sweating and feeling horribly sick to his stomach. For a moment he was disoriented but then everything came rushing back. The memories instantly caused his nausea to ramp up and he was afraid he was going to vomit all over himself. Since he was restrained, he couldn't turn on his side. Instead, he remembered the call button and pressed it repeatedly.
The nausea built and he knew he wasn't going to make it. Just as a nurse entered his room his stomach spasmed and he began to vomit violently all over his pillow and the bed. The nurse tried to help by lifting the bed but could do little with him strapped down. She attempted to release him, but it was difficult while he continued to be sick. Finally, she released his hands, which helped a bit, although his ankles were still restrained.
The spasms seemed to go on forever until Jack was doing nothing more than dry heaving. The pain in his stomach ramped up, causing him to break out into a cold sweat. Unfortunately, this was immediately followed by severe intestinal cramps.
"Oh shit," he gasped, as the vomiting finally subsided while the cramping increased. He knew what was happening and wasn't sure whether the pain or the humiliation was worse.
"Nurse – I -" but it was too late. The cramping turned into a furious bought of diarrhea. It seemed to go on forever until he wondered if all his insides were coming out. He groaned in pain and embarrassment, wondering how the nurse could stand to remain in the room.
He could feel a cool cloth wiping his forehead as the diarrhea continued. He almost wanted to tell her she was wiping the wrong end, but knew he wasn't up to humor, even if it was sick humor.
Finally, everything subsided, and the pain diminished. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the evidence of his complete loss of physical control nor did he want to see the nurse look at him in pity – or disgust.
"I'm going to get Dr. Frasier," the nurse said softly.
"No – please," Jack said softly. "I – just help me – clean up," he begged. He really didn't want anyone else seeing his humiliation.
The nurse wiped his forehead again. "Okay, Sir. I'm going to get some water and get you cleaned up – and then the bed. Don't worry – we'll have you feeling better in just a moment."
He nodded but didn't open his eyes. He felt horrible – sick, in pain, freezing cold one moment and then burning up the next. But none of those things compared with the utter shame he felt.
"Don't be upset, Colonel," the nurse told him gently. "This is really common and is just your body getting over the addiction. You'll soon feel much better."
He knew her words were meant to help, but he was still feeling too sore – physically as well as emotionally – to accept what she was saying. But he didn't have the energy to respond so just kept his eyes closed and waited for the nurse to clean him up.
It took a while considering the number he'd done on the bed, the sheets and blankets – and himself. Nurse Garcia (he finally learned her name) helped him sit up and she gently removed his scrubs. She handed him a bathrobe, which he put on so as not to sit there naked while she gathered the sheets and placed everything in a big garbage bag.
"How about a nice warm shower?" she asked.
"Yes, please," he answered, desperately wanting to feel both warm and clean.
"Okay – you just stay seated in the chair. I'm going to go and get Dr. Frasier and Airman Jenkins and they'll get you into a nice shower while I remake the bed."
"Sorry," he muttered.
"There's nothing to apologize for, Sir. Believe me when I say I've dealt with much, much worse. As I said, this is really common. You'll probably feel a bit better, as a result. Now, you sit tight, and I'll be right back. Do NOT try and get up out of the chair, okay, Sir?"
"Okay," he nodded. In fact, he leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to rest. He wrinkled his nose as he got a whiff of himself. He was disgusting and again felt embarrassed. He really, really wanted that shower.
"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Janet's voice woke him from his doze.
"Peachy," he muttered sarcastically. "I need a shower."
"All right, Sir. I'm just waiting for Jenkins to – ah, here you are, Airman. The Colonel wants a shower, so we're going to help him. You get on one side, and I'll get on the other. Colonel – we're going to help you, okay?"
He nodded, but didn't have the energy to reply.
They got him into the bathroom, and he sat on the closed toilet seat while Janet turned on the water and waited for it to get warm.
"Hot," he instructed.
"Okay. Airman – you can help the Colonel from here. I'll be outside the door so call if you need anything – understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Jenkins replied. He'd pushed up his sleeves and waited for the Doctor to leave. "Okay Sir, let's get you into the shower."
Jack allowed the almost hot water to wash over him and closed his eyes in relief and enjoyment. He quickly grabbed a bar of soap, although he almost dropped it out of his shaky hands. He managed to wash himself all over – scrubbing as hard as he could to get off the filth and stench of his loss of bodily control.
He managed to wash his hair as well, as some of the vomit and seeped onto his head. The relief was indescribable.
"Almost done, Sir?" Jenkins asked, worried that he would overdo things.
"Yeah," he answered. He started to shiver and swore softly. Getting out of the shower was going to be tough – and freezing.
He moved as quickly as he could, but in the end needed the orderly's help to get dressed in clean scrubs. Jenkins then helped him back into a – clean – bed.
"Just hold on, Sir. I'm going to get a dryer." A moment later the young man returned with a blow dryer – where from Jack had no idea – and he spent the next few minutes drying Jack's hair.
"Mmm," he sighed. The warm air, and being clean, felt good. He was still cold but felt marginally better than before. He knew the nausea and cramps would probably return, but for now he was almost okay.
"How are you, Colonel?" Janet's voice awoke him from a gentle doze.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Thank you – and please say thanks to Nurse Garcia. She – uh – went above and beyond!"
Janet smiled. "All in a day's work, Sir. Don't you worry – we deal with much, much worse and Garcia is a highly competent and experienced nurse. She didn't think anything of it."
"I'd – like to know – what you consider to be worse," he said, haltingly.
"Now Colonel, it's time for you to get some sleep. First, I'd like you to drink some water – you're probably dehydrated."
"Ya think?" he asked, although the words lacked their usual sarcasm. He leaned forward and took the straw in his mouth, letting Janet hold the cup. He didn't have the energy to try and maintain any semblance of dignity. He snorted softly – pretty sure that he had absolutely no dignity left. All he could be thankful for, was the fact that none of his team had been present to see his "eruption" for want of a better word.
"Will it – come back?" Jack asked, after shaking his head. He'd had enough water for now.
"The nausea and diarrhea?" Janet asked, sounding matter of fact. "I'm afraid so, Sir. I expect it will happen a few times, although I'm giving you some anti-nausea medicine in your IV. Hopefully that will help."
"Doc, do me a favor?" he asked weakly. "Keep my – team – away."
"Your -" Janet looked confused. "Keep them away? But why?"
"They don't – I don't – want them to see me – like this," he said haltingly. It had been bad enough to be sick in front of his nurse. If his team had been here, he would never have gotten over it.
Janet sighed but then nodded. "They're not going to like it, Colonel, but I'll let them know – no," she held up her hands, "I'm not going to tell them why – I would never do that. I'll just explain that you don't want them to see you going through withdrawal."
"Thanks," he said, so quietly she could barely hear. Another moment and the Colonel was asleep.
"You rest, Jack," Janet told him softly. She gently straightened – or attempted to straighten – his unruly hair. "You don't deserve this, Sir, but I'm damn well gonna make sure you get through this as best you can!"
Jack felt warm and at peace. The hand in his hair was soothing – and he knew that Janet and his team were looking out for him. He allowed his mind to slow and his breathing deepened. He slept.