AN1: I hope you heeded the warning, this is a highly angsty one. Kind of built in some ways from memories and experiences I have been around so treat reviews accordingly if you feel inclined to leave one...

AN2: I have left out references to medical follow up and lots of other obvious things that I feel would cloud the emotional snapshot that I am trying to capture. This is an attempt at the essence of a fic not an account of the details so please bear that in mind.

Summary: WARNING! Deals with MISCARRIAGE/STILLBIRTH and surrounding recovery issues. One-shot in which Jack tries to reach out to Sam when she shuts down completely after the unexpected loss of their son during birth. Post-series Angst/ Hurt/Comfort with a glimmer of hope. Jack/Sam established. Extreme Jack perimeters with regards to emotional reactions. Rated T but maybe should be higher.

BEYOND THE PAIN.

She buried her head when she heard the footsteps approaching the closed bedroom door. The darkness and the warmth enveloped her but they did nothing towards taking the chill out of her bones that was not a physical sensation. She gripped tight onto the top of the duvet so that it could not be loosed and curled up even tighter with her back turned to the cautiously approaching figure.

"Sam?" he enquired. "Honey, you awake?" He knew he would not get an answer but he had to try. For a long moment he endured her utter, utter silence. It had been two weeks and now he was getting really, really worried about her. He was getting desperate. He placed his knee on the edge of the bed and sat back a little. He did not dare to touch her, to feel her once again recoil from him. It was too much to bear. "Sa-am, please." he begged, his voice breaking with grief.

Sam squeezed her eyes tight at his words but it was not his tone that caused her reaction it was the fact that he just would not give up. All she wanted was to be left alone. Every time he spoke, every time he touched her, every time he breathed it reminded her of her loss. It reminded her of the tiny life that had never come to be...of her beautiful newborn son who had never drawn breath. She wished she had never looked at the child, she wished she had never reached out and felt his cool, lifeless skin. She wished she had never met Jack O'Neill and that all of this had never happened. She was aware his weight shifting as he placed his hands on either side of her and she tensed.

"You can't stay here forever. You can't just lie here. You have to eat, you have move...you have to live, Sam."

But she did not want to live, she did not even want to die, that would take too much energy. All she wanted to do was disappear. Disappear like the future that she had had. The future that had viscously been ripped away from her by her own failing womb. How could she deserve to live when she had in effect killed her own child. A child she had so dearly wanted but her body had decided right at the last moment that she was not allowed. Nothing seemed worth it after that, nothing would ever seem worth it again.

Jack held back a painful sob as his heart once again pulsed in broken pieces. He did not know how much longer he could do this. The unexpected stillbirth had shattered him into a thousand pieces but he had scraped a portion of himself together for her. It seemed the massive effort had not been enough. Nothing he did was ever going to be enough. Sam was way, way beyond his reach and that fact was threatening to snap him completely. His mind was eroding fast and he could not hold on much longer. The pull of alcohol was drawing him closer, as it had done with Charlie but one drink and he would be more lost than Sam was right now. He did not want to let that happen but he could no longer endure the high level of rejection he was feeling from the one person he needed to love him. Once more, he would try just once more to reach her. This time he gave it his all. He had been giving her everything he had right from the start but this time he dropped his protective guard. The one that he had placed around himself for her sake so as not to make this more difficult for her. This time he let his broken desperation ride out over everything else that made him who he was. He needed her to know just how close to the edge he was. She needed to understand that she was losing him.

"Sam...I can't do this anymore, I haven't got it in me...you have to let me in." His voice drifted off but he forced himself back into speaking. This time his frustration showed through and it sounded very much like the anger he was trying hard to keep at bay. "God damn it Sam, you're not the only one you know. You're not the only one who lost a child. He was my son too. I lost my s-." His voice broke as the tears forced there way through, swift and unchecked.

Sam's heart wavered as she listened, for the first time she really listened to him. He was desperate and he was crying, Jack O'Neill was actually crying. She shifted slightly, turning towards him...how could she not? Slowly she brought her head up into the curtain drawn dark of the room and reluctantly gazed at him. He looked so haggard, so, so...so much like she felt.

"I lost another son, Sam." he sobbed, unable to look at her as he confessed his hurt.

Her arms came up and she pulled his head down onto her chest. Without resistance he collapsed onto her, grief and tension racking through his exhausted body. "God Jack...I'm so sorry. I forgot, I just...forgot." her voice scratched as she poured as much love as she could into him. She had forgotten that he was hurting too. "Sshhh." she soothed as her tears joined his.

"Don't leave me Sam. Please, please don't leave me." he begged, vulnerable in his honesty. He was unable to stop himself from falling on her shattered but ever present strength. He did not want to but he needed to...he needed her.

"I'm here Jack." she told him and kissed the top of his head. "No matter what, we'll get through this." she assured him, really and truly wanting to mean her own words. "And...I need you too." she whispered as she tentatively reached out her heart to his. She reached out to the tender care that he had been so freely offering her. To the healing love that only his equally broken soul could provide.

END

AN: And so the slow process of healing can begin. I would appreciate it if you had any though on this one, please. Thanks for reading.