But It Works   

                                                                                                                                                     By:  Assilem   

 

 

CATEGORY:  Angst

WARNINGS:  None

 

AUTHOR’S WEBSITE:

 

  http://www.geocities.com/assilems_archive   

 

 

He was sick.

At first he didn’t want to admit that he was sick, because being sick was something he could not afford to do…or have. His brain wasn’t working, because of this cold.

 

His sinuses felt like Russia and Prussia, at war with his adenoids, known as Germany. His ears, China and North Korea were at war. His head felt like it was being drummed on by like eighty-five million base drums all at once. His throat was raging nuclear war against everything in his body. His stomach churned and he was dying. At least in his mind.

 

The light burned his eyes and Daniel groaned pulling his comforter over his head. It was not fair, he rarely got sick…allergies yes, but sick no. He got his flu shot every year, took his vitamins, almost everyday. And now, he was sick.

 

At first, he just thought it was his allergies acting up, when he sneezed, repeatedly, interrupting his work. It wasn’t until he started to cough that he thought that he was coming down with something. Or maybe it was when his entire team kept asking him if he was feeling okay, and that he looked horrible. Maybe it was because his nose was red, dripping and his eyes were dark and sunken.

 

He knew he was sick, oh he could feel it, as soon as his body awoke. Every little sound hurt his ears, and he swear, he could see pain, and it was some major Synaethesia if he ever experienced it.

 

And now, he felt as if he was dying. The world was spinning, and he generally felt like it would be better to have a Goa’uld removed, awake, than what he was feeling. It wasn’t just a cold, it was the flu from hell.

 

Daniel knew he should call into the Base, but that would require effort, and that he did not have.

 

The shrill of the phone ringing made Daniel groan, it was if he had the migraine of all migraines, and he knew it was Sam on the phone, because Vala would be interrupting her work, because he wasn’t there, and she was checking in on him, seeing if he was just late, slept in or was watching the newest program on the History Channel that he taped from the week and a half before hand.

 

Groaning, he felt around for the cordless phone he knew he’d put on his bedside table last night. After his 4 hour…conversation, if you could call it that, with Vala. (She had recently discovered the love of the telephone.)

 

“Hello,” He said, voice cracking and phlegm building up.

 

“Daniel? You sound absolutely horrible,” Sam said as he nodded his head, groaning because A) she couldn’t see it, and B) movement hurt. “I’ll tell the General that you’re sick. Stay in bed, get some sleep, you’ll feel better.”

 

“I doubt it,” Daniel said before he started to cough.

 

“Listen, we’ll come over for lunch, and see how you’re doing,” Sam said over Daniel’s coughing fit. “Sleep Daniel.” Hearing the click of Daniel’s phone, Sam sighed and looked at SG-1 who was piled into her office. “He’s got the flu.”


                                                                                                                   * *

Hours, which to Daniel felt like years, quite possibly centuries later, his eyes opened. They were stinging, his throat was dry, rough and sore, and he generally felt worse than he did before he closed his eyes. His nose was dripping and as gross as it was, the mucus as crusted around his nose and he knew he needed to blow his nose, but getting up was too much effort.

 

“Daniel,” a voice whispered softly as he felt soft hand stroke his head. “You’re awake.”

 

“I’m sick,” he mumbled rolling his body with a moan, to see Vala sitting on his bed, the latest issue of Cosmo now on her lap.

 

“I know darling,” she whispered. “Samantha, Mitchell and Muscles were here, they had to get back to the base though. Did you want some tea?”

 

“Okay,” he mumbled, the aching of the bones sinking into his body.

 

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” she said moving, but before doing so, leaning down and placing a kiss onto Daniel’s forehead “I’ll bring you back some medicine too.”

 

Sometimes Daniel wondered who this new Vala was, the woman he fell for was like a child, but sometimes, she was amazingly womanly and maternal. It could be that his brain was currently fogged, but he’d never seen Vala like she was at that moment.

 

Vala stood in Daniel’s kitchen, kettle on the stove as she waited for it to boil. He looked whiter than his sheets, and she knew it was just the flu virus, but she was allowed to be worried. The shrill of the kettle jerked her attention back to the task at hand. She had found a variety of remedies for colds on her adventures around the galaxy, but she had to admit, herbal tea with honey was the best tasting.

 

“Oh water bottle!” she said, a light bulb going off in her head. “Daniel where is your water bottle?” she asked to herself, opening his cupboards. This was Daniel nothing was in its ‘proper’ place, mostly because he still hadn’t finished unpacking from years ago when he thought he was going to Atlantis.

 

A few minutes of fruitless looking, Vala gave up and grabbed the teacup and walked back into Daniel’s room. He was laying in his bed, in the exact same position she left him.

 

“Hi darling,” she whispered as Daniel’s eyes slowly opened. “I brought you tea. And something that Cameron calls the ‘only cure’,” she said holding up a brown bottle.

 

“What is it?” he asked course and husky.

 

“I’m not quite sure, but Cameron swears by it says its from Canada,” she said sitting down on his bed. “Open up.”

 

Daniel did so as Vala put the spoon of the dark white liquid into his mouth, his face quickly skewed, and gagging occurred. There were no words to describe the taste of the liquid, his body shuddered and the burn of it went down his throat. He couldn’t decide which was going to kill him first, the virus in his system or the horrible-ness of the liquid that just went down his throat.

 

“What the hell is that?” he asked coughing, and trying to huff the after taste out of his mouth.

 

“It’ll make you better,” Vala said handing him the tea. “Take a drink of this.”

 

“I can still taste it,” Daniel mumbled after taking a sip of the hot liquid. "And this is awful!"

"I did what it said Daniel, I put the tea leaves in the cup and then poured water," Vala said taking the mug away from Daniel and looking at it. She had left the leaves in.

"Thanks though," he said before giving a reaction cough. Vala smiled softly, as Daniel laid his head on her lap, he was warm still, but she hoped that this miracle cure that Mitchell swore by would make him better. He was a real whiner when sick, though she discovered he was a lot cuddlier when he was ill, and she wasn’t about to complain about spending time with Daniel.

 

Running her fingers through his hair, Daniel’s eyes drifted downwards and he soon fell back asleep, his mouth open, snoring softly as his nose became stuffier. Maybe being sick wasn’t the worst thing in the world, when he had Vala as his personal nurse.

 

 

                                                                                  ** The End **   

 

 

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