The first time Jake was hurt bad enough to need narcotics, they were on a post close enough that they were able to send him home to recuperate at his sister's house after he was discharge from the infirmary, and he hadn't been coherent enough when they saw him for him to talk much to them.
The second time, they were in South America after he had taken the gun from the Honduran general and they couldn't force him to take the meds, and he absolutely refused to despite the pain of his three broken ribs and the gunshot wound in his leg, because they all needed to be as alert as possible in case the general's men found them for retaliation. It was then that they learned that without pain meds Jensen would be alternately whiney or vicious, depending on how bad the pain was.
The third time, they were in the Russia, three towns away from where both Jensen and Roque got torn up with shrapnel and bullets, hiding as the two healed up enough to be moved to the nearest post available. Smuggling both Roque and Jensen out of the hospital had been difficult given their drugged and stitched statuses, but they were safer out of there than they would have been inside and vulnerable.
They were all used to Jensen's inane chatter and the random factoids he spouted during any part of a given day, but none of them were particularly prepared for what happened to him on meds.
Pooch was sitting up on watch duty between the beds of his downed companions and cleaning the carburetor he'd stolen from their mark's truck while he cannibalized it for parts for their own ride when he heard it. They were all used to Roque's hellacious snores when he was drugged because the man was a light weight when it came pain medicine, but seeing the hazed visage of their tech geek whimper and look at him with such serious expression, hands fisted in the sheets, was alarming until he spoke and then it took all he had not to laugh at their youngest member.
"Pooch; Pooch man, the gerbils, the pirate gerbils stole Iktomi and Clay's cigs—we have to get them back and I have the plan. Here's what we do: We wrestle back control from the pirate gerbils, and the seas will be ours! That's right, you nasty little sea fluffies… Shit, they're stashing the treasure in their cheeks! —my poor Iktomi, I'll save you I swear—Come on! Time for some plundering! We have to get the seas and Iktomi back under our control!"
Pooch bit the inside of his cheek as he shushed his teammate and left the room, bursting out in raucous laughter as soon as he saw Clay and Cougar, the sniper sleeping in corner with a line of sight to the street through the window when he was awake. Cougar snapped awake when he heard Pooch laughing, his eyes narrowing at the man no longer watching over his—their—tech when the words he got out in between his guffaws began to make sense.
"Oh god—" Pooch gasped trying to draw in air, "Clay, man, you gotta—gotta hear what Jay's sayin'. Fuck, Iktomi—his laptop, oh god he's so worried about his computer for chrissake—and—and—" a completely unmanly giggle that he would deny with his dying breath escaped him, "Your cigarettes were taken by Pirate Gerbils!"
Clay blinked slowly at his wheelman/mechanic/engineer as he lost it and couldn't stop laughing and watched from the corner of his eye as his sniper grunted and stood and moved to the room their currently wounded teammates were in.
Cougar moved to take the recently vacated seat when he noticed Jensen had somehow managed to finagle his laptop on the bed with him, despite its place across the room on top of the dresser. Cougar couldn't help the sigh that left him as he pried the computer from Jensen's hands, merely raising an eyebrow at the pout and weak fighting he received in return. He couldn't help the quirk of his lips when he heard Jensen curse him and try to wave the fist he made, despite the gauze trapping it to his chest.
"Ohhhh! If only I had my triceratops, I wouldn't have any problem with the goose. Damn you, goose!"
He kept silent as he listened to Jensen's nonsensical babble, "Puddle, my puddle. My puddle!! Splishy-splashy puddle." And tried to sit next to him on the bed and sooth him back to sleep but Jensen was having none of it, "NOW GET OUT OF MY PUDDLE! My puddle. Dirty birdie, my puddle! Spishy-splashy puddle puddle. My puddle, my puddle, my splishy-splashy puddle..."
He could only shrug at Clay when the man looked in at the shout of 'GET OUT OF MY PUDDLE!' and wonder if their friend was always like this on narcotics.
They spent several days in their safe house listening to this and Cougar was Jensen's only saving grace when Pooch tried to set up a recorder after hearing him mumble into his pillow, "Sex with you is like an autopsy, and you're the cadaver," trying to capture more of the nonsense.
Roque, by the time they were ready to go, was no longer taking the meds and there was a permanent smirk on his face after catching Jensen cuss, "Oh, humanity. You can go suck my fat hairy balls. I made you and I can break you whenever I want. See that? That's free will too, you know. I created that too," when he accidentally pulled on the stitches on his ribs.
Cougar was scowling at Pooch, seeing as the man had managed to record Jensen when the sniper was sleeping and now they had a good hour of Jensen saying various bits of nonsense including him talking about how to battle some Japanese styled noodles with chopsticks and miso as a weapon or how the noodles were bullying the dumplings. He supposed, though, if he had to pick, the best outburst of all was when they had to get Jensen up and out to the truck so that they could get to their new extraction point, now that Roque was mobile and they could maneuver Jensen between him and Pooch.
"Well, thank you very much for taking me out of my happy place, you pus-gargling cock-turd," he had said to Clay when he'd levered him out of bed, the man had been fairly temperate all day, only mumbling something about bumble bee pajamas and then they'd moved him and his peaceful mood turned vicious and vulgar in seconds. He continued to be verbally abusive until they'd had him settled and leaning against Cougar in the truck, only to snarl "What the fuck are you doing here? Piss off back to the sick part of my imagination. Reality shouldn't have to put up with your pathetic shit," at Clay when the man came near them to hand Cougar the bottle of meds Jensen was still taking.
Getting back first to the nearest post and then state-side was task filled with tested patience and Jensen's surprisingly vulgar and wild mouth every time someone disturbed him by pulling him away from his cuddling with Cougar or tried to take away his laptop, which he hugged to himself with his only usable arm, mumbling about pirate gerbils and fucking unicorns and glaring at Clay each time he came near.
By the time they were all in a van, taking Jensen to his sister's he'd begun giving Roque the stick eye, as well as he could with the medicine haze clouding his already poor vision. He muttered "You're such a fuck-up, your DNA is made up of X's and 'why me's," as the man tried to help them out of the vehicle when they were in the drive, causing the muscles above his eye to twitch as he growled threats of castration and decided to leave them there and stomp his way to the door and get the elder female Jensen.
The harsh laughter of Claire Jensen filled the air as Roque filled her in on their sudden appearance and she couldn't stop the giggles as she stumbled her way to where Jacob was sitting. Jensen's eyes widened when he saw her and Cougar couldn't hold in the snort or suppressed laughter when he heard him as he practically leapt out of the van, "Froggie!! I missed you. Where have been Froggie? Ohhhh, fancy. What've you got in your bag? Why are you collecting tourists? Put 'em back, Froggie, and tell me about your trip."
Claire kept giggling as she guided her brother into the house and motioned for them to follow, shushing Jensen as they neared where Beth was playing. Once she had him settled in the room he usually occupied, she met them all in the kitchen, eyes twinkling with mirth. "So," a smirk pulled at her lips, "You've all met a drugged Jacob Jensen. What did you think?"
Pooch choked on the tea he had been drinking, trying not to spray it through his nose as he laughed, Roque gave her a dark smirk, and Clay sigh in exasperation, "Is he always like that when he's drugged?"
Claire laughed again as she got her own glass of tea and a bowl of ice cream, "Yep, always has been. The older he got and the more words he learned, the weirder or more abusive his ramblings have gotten, especially when he's hurt. He tried weed once, back when he was fourteen I think, and when he realized he couldn't quite control everything that came out of his mouth he decided he wasn't going to take or do any types of drugs unless absolutely necessary. It's not that he really thinks these things, you should see the puppy dog eyes he gives me when he starts to remember the things he's said, but you know how twisted a place his mind can be sometimes and I suppose his subconscious, hindbrain," she waved her spoon around in a manner eerily reminiscent of her brother describing the things he'd done with their enemies computers, "whatever it is, uses the times his forebrain is out of commission to decompress."
She grinned at them, "You have to admit, you can get some really good insults from him when he's like this and I've taken some of his more memorable mumblings and turned them into stories for Bethie."
Roque snorted and smirked at Clay, "We've noticed, though Clay has been the one receiving most of the insults since he's been the one heaving him around and making him move when he doesn't want to."
Clay glared at his 2IC and looked at Claire, his eyes serious, "It doesn't matter what drug it is does it? You know we'll do our best but if someone ever wants something from him—"
Claire cut him off quickly a smile still on her face though there was a sadness in her eyes, "Oh, trust me, Clay; they won't get a thing out of him. Part of it is just because he's more stubborn than a mule, the other part is he's been talking so long, has the attention span of a gnat, and knows so much that if he doesn't want to talk about it he doesn't have to. And you can't force him to talk about anything once he's drugged, it's all just what you've heard, trust me, I tried to get his passwords out of him once and got shot down in flames."
Cougar grinned and left his position leaning against the wall and climbed the stairs to his Jake, glad that the odd words and his normal penchant for being overly verbose would keep him from cracking in even the worst conditions and enjoying the odd quirk that they've learned about. He smiled as he climbed into the bed next to the man and snuggled in close, nosing at his temple and placing a soft kiss there and laughing softly when "I've got all the ammunition in the world. But if I run out, bring on the chinchillas!" is murmured into his collarbone and Jensen falls back asleep.
It’s a good thing he's become almost unreasonably attached to the techno geek or this quirk could be considered annoying, but at least he knows life will never be boring with Jake in it.