Dog Heaven: Pack Mates - Part 1/5
Title: Dog Heaven: Pack Mates
Summary: Jack gets in touch with his animal side after accidently participating in a ritual off-world.
Timeframe: Mid-season two-ish
Characters/Pairing: Team, Sam/Jack, Janet
Genre: Humor, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, UST to RST
Rating: G
Note: This story is already complete, so expect updates fairly regularly. Please enjoy! :D
Dog Heaven: Pack Mates
Part One
General George Hammond stared down into the gate room with trepidation as SG-1 returned through the open wormhole. They were minus their leader, Colonel Jack O’Neill, and plus one; a massive grey wolf.
“SG-1, briefing room, now,” Hammond called into the loudspeaker. He had a feeling that whatever explanation was forthcoming would probably be better heard in private.
.
Sam braved the explanation as they got the briefing room. No one bothered to sit. “The tribe we visited is very spiritual, sir. They form close bonds with all the animals around them, especially the wolves.”
Daniel shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Ah, yeah. Jack somehow managed to get mixed in with their Coming of Age ceremony, General. It was a complete miscommunication between him and their spiritual leader.”
Hammond stared dubiously at the large grey wolf sitting on the floor of his briefing room. “And that means what, exactly.” He frowned.
“It means that this,” Sam grimaced and gestured down at the animal, “is Colonel O’Neill.”
The General huffed out of a sigh and shook his head. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“We are not, General Hammond.” Teal’c, the steady voice of reason.
“How can you be sure it’s him?” Hammond asked, still sounding quite skeptical.
“Well,” Daniel stepped in, “We actually saw him…transform. We’ve talked to him, asked him questions. One bark for yes, two for no. He seems to know what we’re saying and can do complex tasks.”
Hammond frowned, and Sam interrupted, crouching beside the wolf. “Also, sir, there’s this.” She pointed to the scar that dashed across the animal’s left eyebrow just like the Colonel’s scar, then indicated the familiar brown eyes, and finally lifted a chain from around the wolf’s big furry neck and held it out to her commander. It was Colonel O’Neill’s dog tags.
The wolf remained still the entire time, and General Hammond bent down to get a closer look as Sam replaced the tags around the animal’s neck. “Jack?” Hammond whispered tentatively after staring into the familiar coffee-brown eyes for a prolonged moment.
Woof. He even nodded.
Sam watched the General’s eyes widen as he stood straight once more, nearly stumbling backwards. “It’s him, sir.”
“And is this…permanent?” Hammond wanted to know. The ‘Please say no,’ was left unspoken, but clear in his grey-blue eyes.
“Not according to the tribe’s spiritual leader, sir.” Sam waved at Daniel to further explain.
“He was kind of vague, General, and the language is rather difficult-unlike any Native American I’ve heard…” Daniel shifted uncomfortably and glanced briefly at the very silent wolf-O’Neill who was glaring at him. “But I think I got the gist of it. It seems that to return to his human form, Jack has to find his kindred spirit, soul mate, or inner self. Get in touch with his animal side, maybe. Something like that.”
The General’s eyebrows climbed. “Something like that?” he repeated.
Daniel cowered back slightly and nodded with a shrug, and Sam jumped in again to rescue him. “I think the tribesman also believed that the Colonel would best do that here, at home, than on their planet. That’s why we came back instead of trying to do anything there, sir.”
“I see.” The General then made a call to Janet to explain what had happened so she would be prepared, and sent SG-1 to the infirmary to get their routine checks.
.
After all was said and done, it had been decided that it might be best for Jack to stay off base until this mess got sorted out. It was too much trouble to keep making return trips to the surface whenever he needed to relieve himself, and the entire base didn’t need to know his situation.
Since Teal’c lived on base and Daniel wasn’t allowed to have dogs in his apartment, the job of taking him in was left to Carter. They figured that they would stay at her house instead of his, because all her things were at her house, and while he was stuck in this form, Jack really didn’t need to worry about clothes or anything like that. It would also be less of a burden for her to be in her own home, which Jack could understand.
The only thing that really bothered Jack was that he had to be leashed whenever they were in public, even if it was only going from the car to the house. The General suggested it would be safer and easier to pass him off as a domestic dog than a wolf-even though it was hard not to see it. He was at least one-hundred-fifty pounds, and nearly three feet tall at the shoulders. Carter assured him that if anyone asked, she would say he was a Husky-Shepherd mix. Jack had just cocked his head at her in a sort of wolf shrug.
Jack tried to sleep in the afternoon, sprawling on the area rug in front of Carter’s couch, but it was difficult. All his senses were heightened and he had a hard time trying to tune everything out. Plus, Carter kept coming in to check if he needed anything. He could sense her unease, smell her anxiety. It was weird.
Every now and then he seemed to get these animalistic urges and had to fight not to act upon them; Scratching, licking, and barking to name a few. He was also feeling compelled to mark his territory-all over Carter’s house. Which, logically, he knew wasn’t even his territory to begin with, but a part of him felt like it should be, and so should Carter. He didn’t think his 2IC would appreciate him pissing on her furniture, or-God forbid-mounting her.
Jack literally gave himself a full body shake as he rose from the floor to wander the house after his nap. Carter’s scent was everywhere and it was getting more difficult to control his urges. He needed to get out of here for a while.
Slinking by her office to be sure she was still working diligently on her computer, Jack then turned and crept to the back door. He reared up on his hind legs, pawing at the door handle until it opened. Dropping back to all fours and nudging the door the rest of the way with his head, Jack slipped outside unnoticed.
Ah, freedom! He felt a little bad for ditching Carter, but he just needed to get out on his own for a while. Besides, he’d probably be back before she even realized he was gone. On some level Jack knew he wasn’t being particularly rational, but the animal part of him was taking over and he just didn’t care.
It was darker now, so Jack had the cover of night as he roamed about Carter’s neighborhood. He started out with a casual trot, then a lope, and then it became a full out run when he felt a burst of energy. He was amazed at how fast he could go, and he wasn’t even close to being tired, either. It was awesome!
Jack would have just continued rounding the neighborhood at top speed, but a strong aroma tempted his wolfy nostrils and he skidded to a stop just outside the wooden fence of somebody’s yard. Leaning close, his nostrils flared, his ears quirked, and he could hear and smell a small group of chickens on the other side of the fence. His wolf mind was frenzied with excitement and his tail began to wag in anticipation. Jack licked his chops. He just had to get in there and get those chickens.
Pacing along the edge of the fence, Jack searched, his keen night vision eventually zeroing in on a space beneath the fence. His mind completely focused on his goal, Jack began to dig at a manic pace. He kept clawing at the dirt, every few minutes sticking his head into the hole to test how much deeper he needed to go to be able to fit. Soon, he’d dug enough. Jack wiggled, kicked, and squirmed until he managed to get to the other side.
Shaking the dirt from his fur, Jack licked his chops as his predatory gaze zeroed in on the chicken coup at the other side of the large yard. He didn’t bother stalking over; the prey was no match for him. This would be fun.
The wolf had totally taken over now and he didn’t want to fight it; he let loose, clawing and biting at the chicken wire to get to the birds inside. It was exciting and fun as the birds all went bonkers, clucking and flapping like crazy while he tried to get at them.
Jack was so intent on getting the chickens that he didn’t hear the back door to the house clang open until it was too late. The sound of a gun firing and the bullet hitting the ground near his paws brought Jack’s logical, more human mind to the forefront. His ears flattened back and he hopped sideways, away from the chicken coup. There was an angry man shouting curses at him and pointing the business end of a .22 caliber rifle straight at him.
Scrambling out of the way as a bullet thunked off the wooden edge of the coup, heart racing, Jack frantically searched for the hole under the fence where he’d gotten in and bolted for it. He was just clambering beneath it when a sharp pain bit into his left thigh and he let out an involuntary yelp of pain.
Once he got back on the street, Jack half-ran half-limped his way back to Carter’s house, trying not to be seen by anyone else and realizing just how very stupid and careless he’d been.
.
Sam rubbed her eyes as she closed the file she’d been working on for so long on her computer and then glanced at the on screen clock. She had to do a double take because she couldn’t believe it was nearly eleven at night!
Pushing back from her desk, Sam stood and stretched. She hadn’t even had dinner or given the Colonel anything to eat. Suddenly, she froze in the doorway of her study. Holy Hannah! Colonel O’Neill!
“Dammit, I can’t believe I forgot about him!” she cursed aloud in a hushed sort of whisper. Pulling a hand through her short hair, Sam walked through the house, looking for him. She was half surprised he hadn’t come in to bother her when he’d gotten hungry or bored. But on second thought, he’d been mostly keeping to himself all day, and she couldn’t blame him. She didn’t know how she’d react if she’d been turned into a dog.
“Colonel?” Sam looked around, but she couldn’t find him. When she checked the kitchen and found the back door open she thought maybe he’d had to relieve himself and found a way to let himself out so as not to bother her. Thinking he was probably just out back, Sam took a step toward the door and then suddenly leapt back in shock when she saw Colonel O’Neill’s furry wolf head pop through the opening.
Gasping in surprise, Sam put a hand to her chest and then moved backwards to lean against the counter. She breathed out and shook her head with a laugh. “Jeeze, Colonel, you scared me.” Her head still hanging down, Sam heard his claws tapping against the tiles as he came all the way inside. Something was off, though. He was moving too slow.
Lifting her head, Sam got a full view of her wolf Colonel as he moved by her. He was filthy, covered in dirt and…something else. She peered at him intently, closing the door behind him. “Colonel, what is-“ She realized there was blood matted into the fur of his hindquarters and he was limping. “Sir!”
The Colonel stopped moving, and Sam took in his posture. Head hung low, ears back, and tail down. Even standing still his left back paw was barely touching the ground. He looked exhausted and was in obvious pain.
“What happened?” Sam asked without thinking. She grimaced and frowned apologetically when the Colonel tilted his big wolf head at her, furry eyebrows rising slightly. “Sorry, automatic response.” She’d forgotten he couldn’t answer. Sighing softly, Sam crouched at his left side and gingerly probed at the bloody leg, trying to find the injury beneath all that fur.
O’Neill yelped and hopped sideways to distance himself from her probing hands. He started whining in pain as he shied away, attempting to gingerly lower himself to the hard floor.
Sam wasn’t sure how much of him was Jack O’Neill at this point. Frowning, she crawled over to him cautiously and laid a soothing hand on his shoulder. The moment she touched him a vision flashed in her mind. A black and white ‘wolf’s eye view’ showed fluttering chickens in a frenzy for their lives. She felt her heart racing and the image flashed again-a shadowy form of a man with a rifle, pointing directly at her, or rather, him.
Drawing her hand back sharply, Sam sucked in a surprised breath. “Sir, I saw-did you?” She really didn’t know what to say. “I…I just saw what happened. Through your eyes, the way you saw it.” The wolf’s head tilted. “Did you do that? Did you see it again, too?”
The Colonel barked twice, paused, then barked once more. That was a no and then a yes. He hadn’t made her see, at least not on purpose, but the flashback-for lack of a better word-had appeared to him as well. Sam had to wonder if this was supposed to happen, if it was all part of the ceremony. It definitely made it a little easier to communicate. She wondered if he could convey other thoughts just through touch if he tried to do it on purpose, however now was not the time.
Staring at the Colonel’s leg, Sam contemplated the wound and frowned. “You’ll need proper medical attention, sir. I’ll call Janet, but I don’t think she has the right equipment or medication to treat you in this form.”
O’Neill huffed out a sigh and laid his head on the floor.
“I’m going to find something to wrap that leg for now.” Sam reluctantly left him to call Janet and find some bandages. “Don’t move,” she called back before disappearing down the hall.
.
Part Two
Summary: Jack gets in touch with his animal side after accidently participating in a ritual off-world.
Timeframe: Mid-season two-ish
Characters/Pairing: Team, Sam/Jack, Janet
Genre: Humor, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, UST to RST
Rating: G
Note: This story is already complete, so expect updates fairly regularly. Please enjoy! :D
Dog Heaven: Pack Mates
Part One
General George Hammond stared down into the gate room with trepidation as SG-1 returned through the open wormhole. They were minus their leader, Colonel Jack O’Neill, and plus one; a massive grey wolf.
“SG-1, briefing room, now,” Hammond called into the loudspeaker. He had a feeling that whatever explanation was forthcoming would probably be better heard in private.
.
Sam braved the explanation as they got the briefing room. No one bothered to sit. “The tribe we visited is very spiritual, sir. They form close bonds with all the animals around them, especially the wolves.”
Daniel shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Ah, yeah. Jack somehow managed to get mixed in with their Coming of Age ceremony, General. It was a complete miscommunication between him and their spiritual leader.”
Hammond stared dubiously at the large grey wolf sitting on the floor of his briefing room. “And that means what, exactly.” He frowned.
“It means that this,” Sam grimaced and gestured down at the animal, “is Colonel O’Neill.”
The General huffed out of a sigh and shook his head. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“We are not, General Hammond.” Teal’c, the steady voice of reason.
“How can you be sure it’s him?” Hammond asked, still sounding quite skeptical.
“Well,” Daniel stepped in, “We actually saw him…transform. We’ve talked to him, asked him questions. One bark for yes, two for no. He seems to know what we’re saying and can do complex tasks.”
Hammond frowned, and Sam interrupted, crouching beside the wolf. “Also, sir, there’s this.” She pointed to the scar that dashed across the animal’s left eyebrow just like the Colonel’s scar, then indicated the familiar brown eyes, and finally lifted a chain from around the wolf’s big furry neck and held it out to her commander. It was Colonel O’Neill’s dog tags.
The wolf remained still the entire time, and General Hammond bent down to get a closer look as Sam replaced the tags around the animal’s neck. “Jack?” Hammond whispered tentatively after staring into the familiar coffee-brown eyes for a prolonged moment.
Woof. He even nodded.
Sam watched the General’s eyes widen as he stood straight once more, nearly stumbling backwards. “It’s him, sir.”
“And is this…permanent?” Hammond wanted to know. The ‘Please say no,’ was left unspoken, but clear in his grey-blue eyes.
“Not according to the tribe’s spiritual leader, sir.” Sam waved at Daniel to further explain.
“He was kind of vague, General, and the language is rather difficult-unlike any Native American I’ve heard…” Daniel shifted uncomfortably and glanced briefly at the very silent wolf-O’Neill who was glaring at him. “But I think I got the gist of it. It seems that to return to his human form, Jack has to find his kindred spirit, soul mate, or inner self. Get in touch with his animal side, maybe. Something like that.”
The General’s eyebrows climbed. “Something like that?” he repeated.
Daniel cowered back slightly and nodded with a shrug, and Sam jumped in again to rescue him. “I think the tribesman also believed that the Colonel would best do that here, at home, than on their planet. That’s why we came back instead of trying to do anything there, sir.”
“I see.” The General then made a call to Janet to explain what had happened so she would be prepared, and sent SG-1 to the infirmary to get their routine checks.
.
After all was said and done, it had been decided that it might be best for Jack to stay off base until this mess got sorted out. It was too much trouble to keep making return trips to the surface whenever he needed to relieve himself, and the entire base didn’t need to know his situation.
Since Teal’c lived on base and Daniel wasn’t allowed to have dogs in his apartment, the job of taking him in was left to Carter. They figured that they would stay at her house instead of his, because all her things were at her house, and while he was stuck in this form, Jack really didn’t need to worry about clothes or anything like that. It would also be less of a burden for her to be in her own home, which Jack could understand.
The only thing that really bothered Jack was that he had to be leashed whenever they were in public, even if it was only going from the car to the house. The General suggested it would be safer and easier to pass him off as a domestic dog than a wolf-even though it was hard not to see it. He was at least one-hundred-fifty pounds, and nearly three feet tall at the shoulders. Carter assured him that if anyone asked, she would say he was a Husky-Shepherd mix. Jack had just cocked his head at her in a sort of wolf shrug.
Jack tried to sleep in the afternoon, sprawling on the area rug in front of Carter’s couch, but it was difficult. All his senses were heightened and he had a hard time trying to tune everything out. Plus, Carter kept coming in to check if he needed anything. He could sense her unease, smell her anxiety. It was weird.
Every now and then he seemed to get these animalistic urges and had to fight not to act upon them; Scratching, licking, and barking to name a few. He was also feeling compelled to mark his territory-all over Carter’s house. Which, logically, he knew wasn’t even his territory to begin with, but a part of him felt like it should be, and so should Carter. He didn’t think his 2IC would appreciate him pissing on her furniture, or-God forbid-mounting her.
Jack literally gave himself a full body shake as he rose from the floor to wander the house after his nap. Carter’s scent was everywhere and it was getting more difficult to control his urges. He needed to get out of here for a while.
Slinking by her office to be sure she was still working diligently on her computer, Jack then turned and crept to the back door. He reared up on his hind legs, pawing at the door handle until it opened. Dropping back to all fours and nudging the door the rest of the way with his head, Jack slipped outside unnoticed.
Ah, freedom! He felt a little bad for ditching Carter, but he just needed to get out on his own for a while. Besides, he’d probably be back before she even realized he was gone. On some level Jack knew he wasn’t being particularly rational, but the animal part of him was taking over and he just didn’t care.
It was darker now, so Jack had the cover of night as he roamed about Carter’s neighborhood. He started out with a casual trot, then a lope, and then it became a full out run when he felt a burst of energy. He was amazed at how fast he could go, and he wasn’t even close to being tired, either. It was awesome!
Jack would have just continued rounding the neighborhood at top speed, but a strong aroma tempted his wolfy nostrils and he skidded to a stop just outside the wooden fence of somebody’s yard. Leaning close, his nostrils flared, his ears quirked, and he could hear and smell a small group of chickens on the other side of the fence. His wolf mind was frenzied with excitement and his tail began to wag in anticipation. Jack licked his chops. He just had to get in there and get those chickens.
Pacing along the edge of the fence, Jack searched, his keen night vision eventually zeroing in on a space beneath the fence. His mind completely focused on his goal, Jack began to dig at a manic pace. He kept clawing at the dirt, every few minutes sticking his head into the hole to test how much deeper he needed to go to be able to fit. Soon, he’d dug enough. Jack wiggled, kicked, and squirmed until he managed to get to the other side.
Shaking the dirt from his fur, Jack licked his chops as his predatory gaze zeroed in on the chicken coup at the other side of the large yard. He didn’t bother stalking over; the prey was no match for him. This would be fun.
The wolf had totally taken over now and he didn’t want to fight it; he let loose, clawing and biting at the chicken wire to get to the birds inside. It was exciting and fun as the birds all went bonkers, clucking and flapping like crazy while he tried to get at them.
Jack was so intent on getting the chickens that he didn’t hear the back door to the house clang open until it was too late. The sound of a gun firing and the bullet hitting the ground near his paws brought Jack’s logical, more human mind to the forefront. His ears flattened back and he hopped sideways, away from the chicken coup. There was an angry man shouting curses at him and pointing the business end of a .22 caliber rifle straight at him.
Scrambling out of the way as a bullet thunked off the wooden edge of the coup, heart racing, Jack frantically searched for the hole under the fence where he’d gotten in and bolted for it. He was just clambering beneath it when a sharp pain bit into his left thigh and he let out an involuntary yelp of pain.
Once he got back on the street, Jack half-ran half-limped his way back to Carter’s house, trying not to be seen by anyone else and realizing just how very stupid and careless he’d been.
.
Sam rubbed her eyes as she closed the file she’d been working on for so long on her computer and then glanced at the on screen clock. She had to do a double take because she couldn’t believe it was nearly eleven at night!
Pushing back from her desk, Sam stood and stretched. She hadn’t even had dinner or given the Colonel anything to eat. Suddenly, she froze in the doorway of her study. Holy Hannah! Colonel O’Neill!
“Dammit, I can’t believe I forgot about him!” she cursed aloud in a hushed sort of whisper. Pulling a hand through her short hair, Sam walked through the house, looking for him. She was half surprised he hadn’t come in to bother her when he’d gotten hungry or bored. But on second thought, he’d been mostly keeping to himself all day, and she couldn’t blame him. She didn’t know how she’d react if she’d been turned into a dog.
“Colonel?” Sam looked around, but she couldn’t find him. When she checked the kitchen and found the back door open she thought maybe he’d had to relieve himself and found a way to let himself out so as not to bother her. Thinking he was probably just out back, Sam took a step toward the door and then suddenly leapt back in shock when she saw Colonel O’Neill’s furry wolf head pop through the opening.
Gasping in surprise, Sam put a hand to her chest and then moved backwards to lean against the counter. She breathed out and shook her head with a laugh. “Jeeze, Colonel, you scared me.” Her head still hanging down, Sam heard his claws tapping against the tiles as he came all the way inside. Something was off, though. He was moving too slow.
Lifting her head, Sam got a full view of her wolf Colonel as he moved by her. He was filthy, covered in dirt and…something else. She peered at him intently, closing the door behind him. “Colonel, what is-“ She realized there was blood matted into the fur of his hindquarters and he was limping. “Sir!”
The Colonel stopped moving, and Sam took in his posture. Head hung low, ears back, and tail down. Even standing still his left back paw was barely touching the ground. He looked exhausted and was in obvious pain.
“What happened?” Sam asked without thinking. She grimaced and frowned apologetically when the Colonel tilted his big wolf head at her, furry eyebrows rising slightly. “Sorry, automatic response.” She’d forgotten he couldn’t answer. Sighing softly, Sam crouched at his left side and gingerly probed at the bloody leg, trying to find the injury beneath all that fur.
O’Neill yelped and hopped sideways to distance himself from her probing hands. He started whining in pain as he shied away, attempting to gingerly lower himself to the hard floor.
Sam wasn’t sure how much of him was Jack O’Neill at this point. Frowning, she crawled over to him cautiously and laid a soothing hand on his shoulder. The moment she touched him a vision flashed in her mind. A black and white ‘wolf’s eye view’ showed fluttering chickens in a frenzy for their lives. She felt her heart racing and the image flashed again-a shadowy form of a man with a rifle, pointing directly at her, or rather, him.
Drawing her hand back sharply, Sam sucked in a surprised breath. “Sir, I saw-did you?” She really didn’t know what to say. “I…I just saw what happened. Through your eyes, the way you saw it.” The wolf’s head tilted. “Did you do that? Did you see it again, too?”
The Colonel barked twice, paused, then barked once more. That was a no and then a yes. He hadn’t made her see, at least not on purpose, but the flashback-for lack of a better word-had appeared to him as well. Sam had to wonder if this was supposed to happen, if it was all part of the ceremony. It definitely made it a little easier to communicate. She wondered if he could convey other thoughts just through touch if he tried to do it on purpose, however now was not the time.
Staring at the Colonel’s leg, Sam contemplated the wound and frowned. “You’ll need proper medical attention, sir. I’ll call Janet, but I don’t think she has the right equipment or medication to treat you in this form.”
O’Neill huffed out a sigh and laid his head on the floor.
“I’m going to find something to wrap that leg for now.” Sam reluctantly left him to call Janet and find some bandages. “Don’t move,” she called back before disappearing down the hall.
.
Part Two