Finally, I got it straight in my mind.
I’d seen an assassin attempt to kill the Air Force Chief of Staff. My instincts had kicked in and I’d knocked my old friend to the ground and taken one for the team. I’m sure now that he was a Taliban or Al Qaeda, not a Jaffa.
While in the hospital under sedation, I’d had a series of flashbacks to the old Goa’ulds that SG1 had fought. Then, I remember to my chagrin, that Daniel had arrived and settled me down.
Life was good. Well, so I had thought. Then, I had remembered how rough it could be to have a genius as a best friend.
As I woke up again from the sedatives that SOMEBODY kept ordering, I’d noticed that Daniel had stayed in the room after my last flashback episode. Said civilian scientist was passed out with his butt in a chair and his arms and head on my bed, specifically, on my arm. That was okay, except with my arms fastened to the bed due to my earlier disorientation, I couldn’t move out the arm out of harms way and it was as numb as a post. There was also a magazine poking me in the ribs.
“Daniel. Daniel? Daniel!” I called with increasing volume until the sleepyhead moved a bit. “Daniel.”
“Jack.” Startled, my buddy jerked his head up and entangled himself, his glasses and the magazine in the wreath of tubing and electrical wire, thus putting pressure on my connections.
“Ouch!” That hurt…a lot.
The still dazed Daniel reached to disengage himself from the circuitry. In the process, he hit the button that lifts the foot of my bed where my legs were still secured, thus putting pressure on my still present Foley catheter. Realizing that he had hurt me, Daniel reached for the control panel. He accidentally hit the IV line and tore a tiny little hole in the top of my poor hand. Blood began welling out of the affected area.
“Damn it, Daniel!”
“Oh, sorrysorrysorry.” The sight of my blood apparently upset him even more and, as he pushed himself away from the bed, his chair hit the rolling bed table and tipped a pitcher of ice cold water onto the sheet covering my privates.
“AAAAHHHHHaaahhh!” The water made a direct hit onto my warm gonads. This caused me to sit up abruptly and hit my head on the overhead light that someone had evidently pulled down to help him read an Archaeology Today magazine.
Seeing the ice melting into the thin blanket and onto my shriveling attributes, Daniel tried to snatch the offending material off of me and, in doing so, snagged my catheter tubing. This proved that the ice had not completely deadened the little Colonel’s feelings nor the lamp my pain sensing mechanism.
I screamed. Daniel screamed. Nurse Hathor ran into the room, Daniel backed into her and fell, landing on her. She screamed also, adding a nice vibrato to the whole chorus as they hit the floor.
An innocent orderly ran in, slipped on the sodden magazine on the floor and grabbed for the bed managing to reach the heart monitor cords and pull the glued on electrodes off of my manly hairy chest. As he fell, he also completed removing the IV from the top of my savaged hand.
I think that is when I fainted dead away.
I woke up several hours later. As I looked around I realized that, other than the original head bandage and a band aide on the top of my hand, there was nothing attached to me in any way shape or form except some fresh new linen. All other probes were gone. I also noticed there was a second bed in the room, and its occupant seemed very familiar.
“Daniel? Is that you?”
“Jack, oh God, Jack are you all right?” Daniel was lying in the bed next to his, also clad in a regulation hospital gown. “I thought I’d killed you!”
“Yeah, well, I think so.” I felt around to be sure all parts were in place. “My head hurts, my hand hurts and my willie hurts too for some reason.” I looked curiously at my new room mate. “Why are you here?”
He looked embarrassed. “I fell and twisted my ankle.”
We were interrupted by the door opening and in walked Hank Landry, an Air Force Doctor and a red haired nurse who looked familiar and was sporting a black eye. “Jack, how are you feeling?” He asked.
I looked from him to my companion. “Not too bad, a little sore. But I don’t know why Daniel’s here.”
Landry glanced back and forth between us. “Doctor Jackson, can you answer General O’Neill’s question?”
Daniel blushed a bright pink. “Visiting?”
|Genres:||Action/Adventure, Angst, Drabble, Established Relationship, Humor|
|Warnings:||Adult Themes, Violence|
|Series:||7 Days of Whumping|
|Summary:||: He’s a doctor…of Archaeology.|
Challenge Day 5 - Whumped accidentally in a humorous way by another team member. An octo-drabble