Hide.
PG
** Jack tries to hide his injuries from Dr Frasier, but she knows better.
POV - Dr Frasier
He tries to hide his pain but I’m not fooled.
Sitting there on the side of the bed, he was already trying to look nonchalant, trying to hide any injuries from me. Like it was no big deal.
Does he think that I’m stupid or something?
I know him, unfortunately a bit too well.
Maybe it was the way in which he was cradling his left arm, not obviously, but surreptitiously, like if he didn’t move, just sat there, I would overlook him and he could go.
But he couldn’t hide his painful breathing, or his gray pallor.
And his total stillness gave him away immediately. Colonel Jack O’Neill was seldom still. Maybe when he was asleep…No, scratch that. I have seen him asleep here in the infirmary and even then he was restless.
He was hurting, and as usual he was trying to hide that fact from me.
How annoying. But as usual in his case, I had an ally.
" Daniel, what happened?"
He was looking worriedly at his leader, making the Colonel scowl in annoyance.
"Before or after he fell off the cliff?"
Oh shit, Cliff?
" How far?"
" O’Neill shook his head. " Not far," he whispered. But Daniel was having none of it.
" I would call a two story drop pretty far, wouldn’t you?"
The man in question was beginning to tremble and my heart went out to him.
" Where does it hurt?" I asked softly. He flinched as I put my hand on his shoulder, and I felt the distinct give of the bone. " Besides your collarbone, that is."
He stared fixedly at the floor, looking for all the world like a whipped puppy.
" Arm, ribs, ankle…" His voice trailed off miserably.
I nodded to my nurse, and firmly moved Daniel towards the door. " Come Daniel, there’s time for you to get cleaned up whilst we check this out, okay?"
He left, protesting all the way, but left, leaving us alone with our patient.
Broken collarbone, arm broken in two places - he probably landed on it.
Plus fractured ribs and a sprained ankle.
I lectured him once again on safety and once again he listened gravely. And deep down I knew that when it happened he was thinking of something more important than his body. He was thinking of his life. He would rather have a couple of broken bones by jumping off a cliff than lose everything by not jumping.
I agree.
Still, we have the safety chat. I talk and he listens.
We may see him a bit too often for his own good, but at least we see him.
If he were to die, the only place he would go would be the morgue - a horrible thought.
He’s already beginning to complain.
He can’t see why he has to spend a night here for observation when he hasn’t hit his head. There he lies, arm in a heavy cast, ribs taped, ankle bandaged, complaining mightily.
His face is flushed, eyes like dark pools, and I know that my next task is necessary.
Taking his other arm, I plunge the needle home, injecting the contents before he can pull away.
" Good night Colonel."
I know that I will probably get it with both barrels when he awakes, but I don’t care.
He is my patient, and he needs to rest. And we need the peace.
I settle him back, waiting for the drug to take effect. His glare slowly becomes misty and his eyes flutter shut, his body relaxing.
Even drugged he isn’t still.
Good.
I will never divulge this information to him.
I know now that if he is still, he is hurting.
He will never be able to hide from me again.
Einde
<beta tested by CIGIK>
****Readers RAVES****
Nice Denise....very nice. Thanx.
Jackie
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