Written 4 December 2004 to 22 May 2005.

Sequel/series info: sort of follows 'Black isn't a colour' and 'Blackbird'; Geordie appears briefly in 'Iraq- Hounds of love sequence'; Sid appears in "Gone Fishing part 5: Taming The Body Thief". (all at Level: 18+)

Content warnings: language, implied sex (not explicit)

Summary: Jack's home at last after four months of hell…scenes from his recovery…takes place over several months at least.

Author's notes: I'm just playing with them…again…Thanks to Tigger, Neet and GEM who read early versions but other than that any grammatical or medical mistakes are mine alone. Bouquets or brickbats to the usual addy.

Blackbeard by Roo

"A kiss…. just a kiss

Oh how long I have waited for this…" 'Miss Chatelaine' by kd lang

The Air Force had made a mistake. It wasn't unknown. But the man getting out of the car was not her husband Jack O'Neill.

Oh, the doctors and psychologists had tried to explain. Tried to warn her what to expect from his injuries and rehabilitation. Sara had been issued booklets and leaflets. He'd been hurt before - that 'little parachuting mishap' as Jack referred to it. She'd seen him bad after that. The doctors had over done the pain relief and it had taken a while to wean him off them. Since then she couldn't get him to take a vitamin supplement let alone an aspirin and he hated hospitals and distrusted doctors. He'd take antibiotics if he had to, but pain pills- nope- not unless he was in extremis. Sara wondered how he was after this debacle.

Sara tried to imagine what he'd gone through. She'd talked to other wives. They had plenty of tales to tell. About 'so and so' from a unit telling his wife to get rid of all the knives in the kitchen because he didn't know what might happen if he had a flashback and found one. About nightmares, anger, restlessness, arguments 'you don't know what it was like!' But it still did not prepare her for the reality of it all. This was her Jack and he was back, against all the odds. And so now she stood at the front door, Charlie's small hand in hers.

Jack hadn't wanted her to visit him in the hospital, and the doctors had suggested she wait a while. He didn't want any fuss, or any big homecoming ceremony, though she felt he deserved one. Part of it she knew was because of the kind of unit he was in. They did not show their faces for security reasons, not like the other GROPOS and officers who'd gone out there. And she knew he'd been awarded another medal and a promotion was in the pipeline. She felt proud of him, but he'd been indifferent to the news she'd passed on over the phone from Frank.

All through the long months she just wanted him back, to have and to hold like their vows had promised. She'd been told he was MIA and probably dead. She knew how hard it must have been for Frank to come to the house to tell her. Jack was his friend and he'd left him behind. Of course she'd known as soon as she'd seen Frank that something was wrong.

So surely this was better than dead? She'd been through hell and back, but then so apparently had Jack. Sara wondered just what had come back from the war-zone, what had made him refuse all contact with Frank. Frank had come over to see them as soon as clearance had been given that Jack was alive and coming home on a medical transport. None of them could quite believe it was true. There had been some incident between them at the first hospital Jack was admitted. It was all very awkward; she'd known Frank and his wife Nancy as long as she'd known Jack. She liked Nancy and found Jack's impassioned hatred, unforgiving and painful for all of them. It was an extra burden she could do without right now. She should be happy. Why wasn't she happy?

It was her Jack, in body, if not in spirit. Being a POW for four months was likely to break or at least partially break that fine stubborn spirit she knew so well. She knew that the body had been broken, and they'd hinted at the nature of other injuries. That was why he hadn't come back straight away. And why they'd said he still needed a lot of time before he could go back to even light duties. And as for active status? Who knew?

He's alive, Sara reassured herself. The gaunt, sunburned, bearded figure of a man, lost in his uniform stood at the end of the driveway, as if he didn't know what to do next. A small duffle bag at his feet. He watched them, his eyes flicking to the house, Charlie's bike and a ball on the driveway.

Taking a deep breath, clutching Charlie's hand, she walked to meet him.

"Mom, who's that?"

"It's your daddy Charlie, don't you remember? I told you he was coming home today."

"That's not daddy!"

"It is, I promise."

"He doesn't look like daddy! Why does he look like a pirate?"

Charlie was right; he did look a bit like a rusty pirate, short on rations and too much sun. She wondered about that, weren't prisoners locked up inside…? Crazy thoughts. Don't think them. She'd never seen him with a beard. Facial injuries he'd sustained at the end of his captivity resulted in dental treatments, some recently. Shaving was probably painful.

"Well he did get lost in the sand for a while, but he's back now."

They reached Jack, Charlie hiding behind her.

"Jack? Welcome home." and she carefully leaned to kiss him, unsure of his response.

Jack jerked slightly in reaction and then brought his arms round and hugged her like he'd never let go, his face pressed against her neck breathing her in. Sara realised he was repeating her name over and over. God, he felt so thin, so not Jack. He even smelled like the hospital. She promised herself she wouldn't cry as she hugged him back. She failed.

A small hand tugged her leg.

"Mommy?"

Jack let go of her, and slowly bent down to Charlie's level. Sara took the opportunity to wipe her eyes.

"Hey Charlie, it's so good to see you, son." Jack said his voice still rusty from injuries and disuse.

"Are you my daddy?"

"I sure am pumpkin." Charlie did not look convinced, but he let himself be hugged. The hug was like one of daddy's but he was too thin and didn't smell quite the same. And then he was picked up just like his daddy used to, and Charlie put his arms round his neck. He didn't like the prickly beard though.

Sara picked up the bag and together they went into the house.

"Play aeroplanes daddy!" shouted Charlie as they came into the lounge.

"Sorry sport, I'm going to have to put you down now. Aeroplanes, another time okay?" only home a minute and already he was disappointing his kid, Jack thought, but he wasn't strong enough to heave him a round at the moment. He was still in rehab for his damaged shoulder and back amongst many other things.

And just being inside was beginning to freak him out. Heck, just being home was truly weird. Like a dream come true. Was he going to wake up back in….? No! Don't go there Jack! Sometimes he had refused himself the luxury of thinking of Sara and Charlie and home for fear it might weaken him. 'Just saying it could even make it happen…' . Throughout everything they had been his lifeline, something to come home to and for. His reason for being. And now he was home, he didn't know what was supposed to happen next.