Interlude: Not Quite a Sick Day
by Jennamajig
SUMMARY: Daniel says he's sick. Jack thinks he just wants to say home from school.
SEASON/SPOILERS: None.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, Doc Jack was too fun to not dabble in. Here's a little interlude set a few months after Jack has adopted an eight-year-old Daniel. And, in another aside, some of Jack's "knowledge" of the perfect sick day plan comes from slight personal experience (I was a good child, I promise... g ).
DISCLAIMER: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.
"Jack, I don't feel good. I don't think I can go to school."
Daniel stood in front of him, cheeks red, and holding the thermometer from the bathroom in his hand. The eight-year-old was pouting slightly, a sight that when combined with his pale face, made him even more adorable than any kid had the right to be.
Something was up. Daniel always wanted to go to school. Daniel liked school, something Jack found odd considering when he was in fifth grade he'd do anything not to go to school.
Including the tried-and-true attempt of faking an illness.
Jack had been good at it. Though his true interest in medicine wasn't sparked until later in his life, he had paid an awful lot of attention to the medical dramas his parents had watched while he was growing up. Marcus Welby, M.D. had held a wealth of information that he'd learned to use to his advantage. He had learned the proper "sick person" technique from the show and over the years had developed a few of his own methods to guarantee a day home from school.
The thermometer was run under warm water and never stuck underneath a light bulb. Light bulbs yielded too high temps and which led to suspicion. You should never have your temperature get too high - 101 tended to be just right. At 101, a kid was sick enough to stay home, but not sick enough to go to the doctor.
Clammy hands were key, as well. Cold water and a towel helped achieve that. After all, nothing said sick like cold hands and a warm forehead.
Lastly, these tricks should never be overused. They needed to be saved for the absolute desperate times and should never, ever, be attempted two days in a row. Two days in a row meant doctor and the doctor would only uncover the truth.
Yep, Jack had been good.
Now, however, with years of both parenting experience and pediatric medical training under his belt, Jack wondered how he'd gotten away with it.
Which was why when he plucked the thermometer from Daniel's hands and read the digital readout, he wondered just how Daniel thought he was going to get away with it.
"One hundred and five," Jack said. "Wow, you really must not be feeling well."
Daniel blinked, his blue eyes pleading, and then nodded.
Jack almost laughed. Oh, Daniel was good. Not good enough, but he had the puppy dog eyes down. He set the thermometer on the counter and brushed his hand against Daniel's forehead. It was warm. Not 105, mind you, but he had said Daniel wasn't perfect.
Next he picked up Daniel's hands. Clammy.
Jack figured he could play along. There was a reason Daniel didn't want to go to school and Jack intended to find out what it was.
"Well, I guess you are sick. You should get back into bed, then."
"Really?" For a brief moment Daniel looked surprised. But he quickly recovered. "I mean, right, because I'm sick."
"That you are," Jack agreed. "Really sick, in fact. So go get into bed and I'll go get my bag-"
"B-Bag?" Daniel interrupted, his voice stuttering. "Um, why?"
Oh, now Jack had him. "Because someone with a temperature of 105 needs to see a doctor and it just so happens that I am one. Saves us both a trip and the time we'd spend in the waiting room."
"But I don't need to see a doctor," Daniel insisted, forcing a yawn. "I just need to sleep."
Jack shook his head. "Sorry, kiddo. A 105 fever is serious. I might even need to draw some blood and run some-"
"B-blood," Daniel stammered. "You mean with a needle?"
"How else am I going to get your blood?" Jack knew it was only a matter of minutes before Daniel caved. "Little stick. You remember - just like the nurse did at the hospital a few months ago. Now, you go get under those covers. I'll be up in a minute."
Daniel didn't move. Jack figured he had him, hook, line, and sinker.
"Okay," Daniel finally muttered and headed up towards his bedroom.
Well, I'll be damned. Daniel was tougher than he thought. Oh well, it was time to bring out the big guns. Jack gathered what he needed, and headed into Daniel's room.
The kid was sprawled out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The "red flush" in his cheeks was fading, no doubt due to the fact that Daniel was away from the steam that he used to get it in the first place. Jack dropped his supplies on the bed and picked up his stethoscope.
Daniel, for the most part said nothing, obeying when Jack told him to take a deep breath. It only took a moment for Jack to prove that the eight-year-old was perfectly healthy. But coming out and saying that was too easy and he wanted Daniel to admit the lie before he had to corner him.
"Hmm," Jack muttered, looping the stethoscope around his neck. "Daniel, this is serious."
Daniel's eyes widened. "It is?" Jack could hear the tiniest bit of fear in his voice.
"Yep," he confirmed. "I think we'll need to go to the hospital."
"Hospital?" Daniel repeated.
Jack nodded. "It won't be so bad, I promise. Just like last time." As he spoke he reached down and picked up a syringe. "Though before we go, I've going to give you a little something to bring down the fever." He found an ample and stuck the needle in. He was just about to draw up a dose when Daniel grabbed his hand.
"No," he said.
"No?" Jack repeated. "Why? You're sick, Daniel. That isn't something I can ignore."
Daniel shook his head back and forth so quickly Jack wondered how the kid didn't make himself dizzy. "I'm not sick, Jack. I..."
Jack lowered the syringe. "Lied?" he finished.
"You knew?"
Jack snorted. "I'm a doctor, Daniel. Course I knew. But a lesson for next time: a fever of 1005 will earn you a trip to a doctor every time."
Daniel let go of Jack's hand. "I guess the water was too hot."
Jack capped the needle and put it away. "Another thing, never use hot, hot water. If you can burn yourself with it, it's a no-go. Of course, none of this addresses the real problem."
"Problem?"
"Why you don't want to go to school," Jack said matter-of-factly.
"Oh." Daniel's voice deflated. It was then that Jack noticed something about his adopted son. Something was missing and he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before.
"Where are your glasses, Daniel?"
"Glasses?" Daniel innocently reiterated.
"Yes, glasses. As in the wire frames we picked up last week. After the appointment at the eye doctor, remember?"
"Oh, those glasses," Daniel answered, but didn't offer any more information.
"Where are they?" Jack's eyes scanned Daniel's dresser and other possible surfaces but he didn't see the frames anywhere. Again, Daniel didn't respond. "Daniel..."
Daniel let out a heavy sigh and scooted himself across the bed spread, reaching under his pillow. Sure enough, when he brought his hand back into view clutched in his fist was a black wire framed glasses.
Jack knew there was more to this story. "Okay, kiddo, spill."
Daniel bit his lip for a minute processing what he wanted to say. Finally the words came out in a rush, so fast that Jack couldn't answer any of them. "Idon'tlikethemandthekidsatschoolmakefunofme."
"Want to repeat that at a speed I can actually understand?"
Daniel's gaze fell to the bed. "I don't like them and the kids at school make fun of me."
So that was it. Daniel was plagued by the problem that had been haunting kids since the invention of glasses.
"Doesn't any one else wear glasses in your class?"
"No." Daniel started twisting the frames in his hand. "No one. And I hate them. Hate them." He lifted his hand and Jack had visions of the frames flying across the room. He immediately grabbed Daniel's hand.
"Don't," he warned.
"I wasn't going to."
"Yes, you were. Destroying them doesn't help things, Daniel."
"It means I wouldn't have to wear them."
"Just until we'd get you another pair. It also means you won't be able to see the board clearly. And you'll get those headaches again. Do you want that?"
"No," Daniel admitted. "But I still hate them. The kids laugh at me. I'm already the youngest one in the class, having glasses just makes it worse."
Now it was Jack's turn to sigh. He couldn't help feeling sorry for Daniel; the way any parent feels when their child isn't happy. Kids could be cruel. He'd experienced first hand, and had a refresher course with Charlie. Now, it seemed, he was in for a third round.
Daniel only eight, and by all rights he should be in third grade. But his advanced IQ placed him two grades ahead, in a class with ten-years-old. And there was a wealth of difference between eight and ten year olds. Today, ten-years-olds were already kissing and pairing off. Daniel didn't care about that. He liked Legos and reading.
He was an easy target without the glasses. Now with them, it was if he had a bull's-eye painted on his back.
"I know it isn't easy," Jack started. "But the other kids will get past this. Quicker than you think."
"I want them to get past it now."
"I know, kiddo. But you can't let it bother you." It sounded empty, but Jack wasn't sure what else he could do. He could have a discussion with Daniel's teacher, but he knew that often made things worse, not better. He was right when he told Daniel it would blow over. Soon the kids would get bored, especially if Daniel didn't let it bother him. But getting an eight-year-old to understand that was impossible.
Sad blue eyes blinked at him. "How do I not let it bother me when it really does?"
Of course, Daniel always asked the tough questions. "You work at it, Daniel. Even though it hurts, you try your very best to look past it. So you have wear glasses. So does half of America. The only reason it doesn't seem like they are is because of contact lenses."
"Contact lenses? You mean those things you stick in your eye? Can I get some?" Daniel voice perked up at the idea of casting aside his frames.
Jack shook his head. Contact lenses and an active eight-year-old were not a good idea. "Not right now. In a couple of years, we can talk about it."
Daniel sagged again. "So I have to put up with this for a couple of years? Jack, I can't pretend that well. Or that long." He began moving his body down towards Jack.
Jack met him halfway and slipped an arm around Daniel. One thing he'd learned about Daniel was that if he made himself available, Daniel would lean on him. "I don't think it'll be a couple of years, Daniel. A couple of weeks, maybe. You'll see."
Daniel didn't look convinced. Jack squeezed his shoulder. "Trust me on this one. I may not know everything, but this I know. The same sort of thing happened to me when I was your age."
"You wore glasses?"
"No. But my mom did give me an awful haircut. She did it herself at home. It took three months to grow out and the kids at school said some pretty mean stuff about it. But eventually they moved on. Especially when I stopped listening to what they said."
"Really?"
"Really. Would I lie to you?" Daniel shook his head. "Darn right I wouldn't." Jack glanced up at the clock. It after eight, and Daniel had missed the bus. By the time Jack got him to school, class would be well underway.
What the hell, he thought, he had the day off and every kid deserved a personal day or two. He gave Daniel a smile. "Well, you're already late for school. What do you say you and I spend the day together?"
"You and me?" Daniel asked, confused. "But I lied."
"I know," Jack replied. "And I hope you have learned that you should never lie to me. But some things I'm willing to cut you a little slack. Being a kid's hard these days. Yet, I know you'll survive. Because tough times call for a pretty tough kid. And I know tomorrow, you'll walk into school and show them just how tough you are. But for now, I'm thinking we'll go out to breakfast. Sound good?"
Daniel grinned.
Oh yeah, Jack knew, eventually things would be fine.