AN: This one is an adaptation of a short story I've been working on so chances are it'll be a little different and a little darker than anything else I've put up here. I think I have adjusted the characters enough so that they are pretty close to Jack and Sam but so late on things are so loose and open to suggestion that I find it hard to tell. Expect some things to run a little laterally.
SUMMARY: Jack finds himself waking to a day he's been dreading for years and what with everything else going on in his life he's just not sure how he's going to make it through. Expect pain, tears and a hinted major character death. Jack/Sam established, well post series 10. (usual disclaimer as per profile page.)
I'm rating this as M because it deals with death, grief, drug addiction, and generally a whole lot of pain that I do not feel is appropriate for younger readers. Some sexual content but nothing explicit, not compare to some of the stuff I've read!
There is one little ray of light in this fic and that will become apparent quite early on but even that is bitter-sweet.
Be warned, this will not make a happy start to your day!
REFLECTIONS.
Jack stirred. He tried to delay the moment of full consciousness but it was already too late. He was awake and today was going to be one of the more difficult days in his life. He sighed and shifted to look out across the room. The morning light was shining in the east facing window and he squeezed his eyes shut against the brightness. If was up to him, the curtains would remained closed, but his wife liked the rays of sunshine first thing. That was why they had chosen the smaller of the two en-suite rooms as their own. The other, his own original bedroom, faced west out over the yard, away from the street lights and offered a clear view of the suburban stars. But Sam had won out, she nearly always did and he would not change that for the world.
More restlessness was building and so as not to disturb his wife, he placed his feet on the plush carpet and looked around. The room was in a vague state of disarray, nothing overly out of place but just enough to let him know that, for both them, the military discipline was slowly slipping away. It was a damned good thing too. Too much of their lives had been taken over by rules and regulations, everybody and everything in its place. It was September outside and it was September in his heart. He was done with the hard-ass, blaze of glory part of his life and in just three months time he really would be done, with all of it. Come Christmas-time and his commission ended they could all go to hell, the politicians, the military, even the President of these United States. Henry Haze was long gone and the new guy was a jerk, siding with the IOA and the Russian money pot on every little thing. No, he had wanted out of the game for a while and they were finally letting him go.
He found himself staring at the sleeping face of his wife of five years. Why they had waited for so long he would never know. Sure it had taken time for them to get to know each other as Sam and Jack but he should have asked her sooner. "I'm glad we took our time." she would often say to him, but sometimes he wondered if that was true...especially now. Her relaxed features were pale and haggard, the illness already telling on her body. It had only been two weeks since her terrible diagnosis but already she was too thin, too broken to be Samantha Carter. But she was his Sam and for now he would let her sleep, let her drift in the world of forgetfulness and peace.
oOo
He made his way to the bathroom and resolutely avoided his own reflection. He did not want to see his own wane, unshaven face. No, today would make him feel old and broken and seeing his own face was only going to remind him of how hard it was going to be. It was already hard. He let his thoughts range over everything else he could think of. His friends, his work, hell even Sam's cancer was easier to think about...if only for today. Forcing his head up, he sighed and faced the inevitable, silently he admitted it to himself. Today was Charlie's twentieth anniversary.
Thirty long years ago he had had a beautiful wife, a tiny new-born son and a bright future. Ten happy years past and then the darkness had arrived as he made an unforgivable mistake. The gunshot echoed deep in his memories, stabbing him with as much pain as it had that very first time. That very moment when he knew he had ruined his son forever.
"Chaaarrrlllliieeee."
Sara was screaming, he was running the picture dropped on the ground.
He pulled himself away from the memory clutching the sink to stay upright. He could not afford to torture himself with that, not today, not ever again. He had a new future to think of now. And while it was true Sam's future was not all that bright at the moment, little Molly's was to be longer. But even that tiny spark of joy in his life was destined to be snubbed out.
He looked out at where the dark haired little girl was tucked tightly in at her mother's side. He smiled, just a little, for that was all his heart could handle. Then his mind turned to the child's birth mother.
Not long after Janet had died, Cassie had gone off the rails. For a while they thought she was doing okay but then she had up-ed and quit college and disappeared into a world of alcohol and soft drugs. They had all tried to help her but she shut them out, she left them all behind, opting for wild parties and oblivion to escape from her pain. Jack could understand her need to block it all out and had genuinely believed the resilient young woman would once again find her way, so he had let her go. It was the only thing she had asked of him. No contact was to follow for years.
Not until, out of the blue one day, over two and a half years ago, she turned up on his doorstep, thin and gaunt. The rings under her eyes, bad skin and lifeless hair gave everything away. Cassandra Frasier as Jack had known her, was no more. She shoved a tiny baby girl into his arms, said she was sorry and the child needed a doctor and then she was gone again, back into the world of drugs and criminal activity.
As soon as he figured out what was going on with the baby and Sam had taken some personal time to care for the sick child, he had set out to find the woman who had once been like a daughter to him. It had taken a few weeks but eventually he tracked her down in the most god-awful place he had ever seen, and he had seen some terrible places in his time. He waited and watched, needing to know the whole story. He found it out and was disgusted.
After singling out the guy who was pimping her and paying her by sticking needles in her arms, leaving track marks between her toes, he beat him to a bloody pulp and left him for dead. Next he dragged the kicking and screaming Cassie away from the mire she had found herself in and placed her into the best rehabilitation centre he could afford.
It proved a futile exercise in tough love. She did not want to be there and no-one or nothing could make her change her mind. Not even the existence of her own daughter, Margaret, whom she had named in honour of her own mother. Janet's middle name was Margaret and Jack believed that Cassie had given her true self-desires away in her choice of name.
For months they struggled to make Cassandra Frasier see sense, but every time she would run and Jack had to be the one to track her down. The very last time, before he had her sectioned, she had very nearly not made it. He had found her with the needle still stuck in her arm, the deliberate overdose already coursing through her veins. It was the last straw. He formalised the adoption, committed her and for the moment, walked away.
Margaret, or Molly as she had quickly become, needed him more. She was still battling every single day against the addiction she had been born with. The screaming of the withdrawal was past but leukaemia had stolen over her tiny eight month old body and Jack needed to pour all of himself into keeping the child and his wife alive.
Molly was, and had been from the moment she laid eyes on her, Sam's child. The little girl had brought out something wonderful in his wife. Completely devoted she carried the baby everywhere with her, day and night and never did, or ever wanted to, return back to work. Luckily the military chain of command had understood and let her go. She had done enough for her country and for her planet to merit a permanent reassignment to motherhood. Then Molls had gotten sick and Sam sunk into a depression, crying and weeping over the little girl, demanding that life treat her, treat all of them more fairly.
It had taken a while but by the time Molly was two she was in remission and Sam was back to bright and vibrant self, though something about her had changed. It seemed her happiness was completely bound to the child's welfare and she constantly fretted over her, sneaking off to sleep in her room at night and checking she was safe. It worried Jack as it was inevitable that Molly's illness would return. They had already been warned that the child was unlikely to see her tenth birthday. Her body was too damaged, she was weak and a bout of fever brought on by her illness had taken away her hearing. Any further episodes and her eyesight was likely to follow and finally her organs, that were already ravaged by the lifesaving but poisonous chemicals, would begin to fail. The little girl's mind was perfectly healthy though but somehow that made it all the more difficult. She would know every detail of what was happening to her.
And now Sam herself was ill. They never could have known that the amazing technological advances would eventually strike them down. The cancer, as far as anyone could tell, was a direct result of long term exposure to naquadah generators. The chances were that it would eventually touch everyone who had come into contact with them and Sam, as the primary inventor, was blaming herself. She hadn't known, hadn't seen, but then no-one had, not even Thor.
Jack sighed, why was it that everything he touched seemed to end up damaged and broken? His wife was terminally ill, his daughter would never see her teens and his son had died twenty years ago...today.
oOo
He looked up not all that surprised to see tears on his face. He wiped a single one away. The water was running in the shower, he hadn't remembered turning it on, he hadn't turned it on. Sam appeared behind him in the mirror.
"Hey." she simply said and wrapped herself around him, kissing his neck. He turned in her arms to face the rock and the heart of his life.
"Hey." he said back and allowed her to wipe the remaining lone tear from his face. He had long since given up trying to hide his emotions from her. She needed his honesty and his full trust and he had given himself over so completely that now he feared he would be lost without her. What would he do when..?
She pulled him close, able to read his fears and his concerns. "Hey, hey, don't worry. One day at a time remember?"
He nodded against her shoulder, she was right. They had promised each other only a week ago that, for now, they would take each day as it came, one step before the next along their new fragile balance beam. Today was a day he did not want to face, a step he was unwilling to take.
For a while he allowed himself to hide from everything in her embrace but time, as it always did, forced him to push away from the good things in his life.
He drew in a stabilising breath and looked at the woman before him. She was as beautiful as the day he had first ever laid eyes on her. His vision ran up along her face and to her hair. There he spotted something he hoped he had managed to keep from her. But her hand was already shifting, moving upwards.
"Don't." Gently he stalled her progress. "It's time."
Sam closed her eyes and nodded, they both knew this moment would arrive. The cancer therapy had at last caught up with her and golden reams of her hair were coming loose even as he looked at her. She sheltered herself away from the reflective glass and they made their way back into the bedroom. Without being asked Jack moved across the room and covered over the mirror on the nightstand. Sam had decided that she did not want to see herself losing her hair, it was not something she could cope with. The loss of Molly's dark locks had almost killed her and facing her own mortality was something she just could not do, not this time around.
For so many years first Captain, then Major, then Lieutenant Colonel and finally Colonel Carter had stood in defiance beside and in defence of her friends and her team-mates, unwaveringly facing the point of the knife. Hell she had even died alongside them, alongside him, more than once. But now with a three year old depending on her she was hiding, mostly from herself. He would let her hide, just for a little while, her final prognosis was not until next week, although they knew already what the outcome would be, it was just a case of how long. When that day came he would help her stand brave and true, in the way Samantha Carter always did. Just because she had become Samantha Carter-O'Neill, left the battlefield and now worshipped the every breath of her small child did not mean she was any weaker than she had ever been.
oOo
Jack knew she was watching his every move and so to delay, just a little, he checked on his sleeping daughter. He did not kiss her for fear of waking her but whispered 'I love you', even though the child could not and would never be able to hear him say it. Behind him Sam sighed where she waited in the chair. Unsure what the wistful sound was in aid of, probably many things, he moved back into action.
As discreetly as he could he removed the scissors, razor and blue head band from his nightstand drawer. She averted her eyes as she realised he was already prepared for this. He slowly made his way around her. She did not want this to happen, but for her own sake it had to. Carefully he let the scissors slide in and up. Sam let out a quite sob as they slicked shut. He stopped, giving them both a moment, bent down and kissed the inside of her ear. She had always found the simple act reassuring and this time was no different, she leaned into him.
"I love you." he whispered, laying another kiss upon her.
"I...I love you too."
Her response was almost inaudible and it hurt to hear her so hesitant. Not over her love, because Jack knew that was never in question, even in her darkest days, when little of anything apart from concern for Molly showed through, he could see her love in everything she tried to do and tried to hide. Her hesitation was pure over the act he was about to commit. He didn't ask her if she was ready because that would be unfair, given an out she would want to take it.
He worked silently and quickly, pushing his own pain away as her golden shoulder length braids came away mostly unaided from his fingers. He was careful not to let them fall on the floor as he placed each and every one in the bag that hung on the chair, behind her, out of sight. She did not move the entire time he worked, she just held herself rigid, trying to stay far away. He wondered what she was thinking about as she fought to distance herself from reality. Her friends, her family, her daughter? Or maybe even Cassie, whom she had not spoken off in what seemed like the longest of times.
Sam had tried only once to reconnect with Cassie. It had been about six months ago, but her anger over what Cassie had done to Molly, first making her ill, then practically disowning the little girl, left her unable to see the truth of the woman's situation.
"How Jack? How could someone who was once so kind and so caring be so cold towards their own blood?"
Jack had thought at the time that it was a terrible idea to bring the girl along, but Sam had insisted that Cassie needed to meet her own daughter, a selfless act that had taken his breath away. Sam was prepared to break her own heart so Molly could be with her birth mother.
Cassandra's rehabilitation was going well this time and she was actually reaching out for the first time in years. She had asked to see Sam but had wanted nothing to do with 'the child'. Jack had assumed that it was because she simply was not ready. He had been right. Cassie had gone ape at the sight of the girl, said some terrible things and Sam simply refused to go back near her. Maybe now, with everything, she would be willing to try again. He would never ask her though, any action on that front would have to come from her.
oOo
He was done. He set the razor down and slipped the azure band over her head, kissing it as it settled into place. The band was special to him. On the day Sam had told him the news he had gone to the attic and retrieved it. His own mother and then his only sister had both worn it throughout their battles with cancer. His mother had recovered and eventually died peacefully in a retirement home, as was her wish, but his little sister had not. Even before he had met Sara the woman was gone and he had kept the band in memory of her strength and her youth cut short.
Now his own beloved wore the marker of strength and someday soon he would tell her what it meant to him. For now he would just hold her as she wept, mourning the loss of something so very precious to her. Long hair had meant everything to Sam. For so many years she had been forced to keep it short, keep it in check. Then finally she could let it grow and it had become her symbol of promise, of the future. He remembered her telling him, when he joked that she should cut it, that her hair was like her love for him, for so many years she had had to hide it, but never again would she cut it because never again would she hide her love. Now all of it lay in a crappy plastic bag. He would have to get rid of it, and soon.
oOo
A tiny hand tugged on his t-shirt.
"Crying?" her little fingers asked, her eyes asking why.
"Yes crying." They had agreed not to lie to the kid. "Mommy is sad." he told her, after checking that Sam wasn't watching. She had yet to notice her quiet daughter's presence.
The kid was astute and took in her mother's new look. Jack made Sam aware that her daughter had something to say.
"Don't cry Mommy." She climbed up onto her knee. "You are beautiful, just like me."
Sam let out a light laugh and hugged the wonderfully compassionate little girl close.
"She's right you know. You are beautiful." He tugged his daughter's leg. "You are, both, my, beautiful girls." He told them. He still had a long way to go to be fluent in sign.
"You too Daddy." Molly told him and he smiled his big astonished smile at her that he knew she loved so much.
"Wait." Sam interrupted. "You think Daddy is beautiful?" There was something else, he guessed it had something to do with the word princess but he couldn't be sure. Whatever it was it provoked Molly's fragile little laugh and that made it all okay.
"Well maybe." his daughter said. "But more like a frog."
"A frog?" Jack asked, remembering to sign only after he spoken. Sam was in stitches.
"Not a frog Jack, a toad." She had signed daddy and over-exaggerated the difference. Jack pulled an affronted face.
"You think I look like a toad!" He didn't sign this part, they were also teaching her to lip read. For a moment the big blue eyes puzzled then she nodded emphatically. "Oh you!" He reached out and tickled his cheeky little miss. She tipped her head back but remained mostly silent the odd gleeful noise escaping from her. Sam reached out and stopped him before his princess fell of her mother's knee. Molly grinned at him and turned away, telling her mother something in private.
"Really?" Sam asked looking surprised.
He commanded both of their attention. "Hey! No secrets, remember?"
"Not secrets Daddy." Then her hands moved in a way Jack didn't recognise. He looked to Sam for help. She had the evilest grin on her face.
"Girl talk." she informed him. Jack groaned, that was all he needed, they were already ganging up on him.
"Sa-am! What'd you have to go and do that for? Now I'll never be able to understand you guys."
"That's the whole point Jack. Maybe if you studied some more you would understand more?" She cocked a single eyebrow.
She wasn't having a go, she was just…right. He did need to get a better grasp of his daughter's language. In just the few months since they had made the decision to learn ASL together as a family, she was way ahead of him, they both were and the two of them were always making jokes at his expense. He really wanted to learn, he just hadn't had the time, what with wrapping things up at work and all. Shame filled him. His daughter came first, he would do well to remember that.
"Fine, I'll study. But later." He pulled a face.
Molly made one more quick gesture at her mother then looked back and forth between them. Sam just rolled her eyes.
"Okay, what is going on?"
"Molly thinks that I should kiss the toad, see if it turns into a prince."
"A beautiful prince."
"Handsome" Sam corrected.
Slowly Molly watched her own hands, trying out the new word. "A handsome prince?" she asked, her mother nodded.
"Well I, like, that idea!" "C'mere you." Jack gave Sam a lingering kiss. It sparked a fire in him that he knew had been there from day one.
"Nothing happened?" his daughter interjected with a scowl. To amuse her he sprang up, ran around the room and covered himself in the throw from the bed. He fawned around and came back to drop onto one knee before his ladies.
"My beautiful princess, my queen. Now that I have, been set, free, I will, grant you both, one…" "What's the word for 'wish' again Sam?" She finished his sentence and Molly giggled silently.
"Well good kind Sir, I'll have…" "Pancakes."
Excitedly Molly threw her hands in the air and jumping off her mother's knee bounced around the room.
Jack hung his head, "Pancakes it is." He gave Sam one more kiss and left his girls to it.
oOo
As always Molly had cheered them up and it was now up to him to keep them all that way. Sounding normal was the easiest way to achieve his goal, so he called through from the kitchen. "Sam, you girls going to use that water or are you just planning on letting the shower run all day?" It was still running from earlier.
"Already in." Sam called back.
He wasn't surprised. Sam loved to shower with her daughter, it gave them a chance to bond, just the two of them. It had also soothed her in the early days, helped stop the near ceaseless crying. Most every morning he would hear the water running and Sam giggling, talking words to her little girl even though she couldn't hear them. He did it too. It was hard not to talk out loud, it was so natural. Signing did not come naturally to him, but to that end... He reached over and grabbed the ASL guide. Flicking to page 132 he took up where he left off...a month ago, he realised. Shame on him was not even close enough. He chastised himself over his laziness. This was the language of his baby's whole future.
oOo
Syrup shot off the end of the spoon and splattered the counter as he mimicked a new word. "Oops!" He quickly ran his third finger across the mess and sucked on it. Then something caught his eye. He could see himself in the chrome kettle. It would have to go he realised. Sam wanted all reflective surfaces removed from the house and it pain him to think that this would be one of them.
The first thing they had done after they had got married and she had finally moved in with him was to donate all of their duplicate items, with a few sentimental exceptions and bought a whole new range of kitchen equipment. The matching kettle and toaster had been the first. He remembered happily browsing through the store picking up and rejecting items based on price and design. Sam had teased him with the most hideous kettle he had ever seen in his life. It was cheap bakelite and covered in pink and purple sixties style flowers.
"We could do the whole house like this."
"If that's what you want, honey?"
Instantly she had set the thing down when he hadn't risen to the bait. Like Sam would ever want her house to be pink and flowery! Little Molly didn't even own much in the way of that. Sam was a blue girl and so was her daughter, anything that matched their eyes. And so Sam had went one way round the store and he had gone the other. Eventually he found himself cocking his head at a ridiculously priced chrome kettle. As he 'hmmed' at it Sam had come up behind him and he watched the reflection of her beautiful face smile out him.
"You like this one?" she asked, wrapping herself around him from behind as she often did.
"I like the reflection." he answered, leaning close and smiling back at her. "It's a bit pricy though."
"Ahh, but for that price you get this toaster too." She lifted and waved the matching item at him.
"Two shiny objects to watch my beloved in, well I'm sold." He turned in her arms and kissed her.
And that had sealed the deal, but now it seemed they would have to go.
For five years he had used them to watch his wife as she moved about the kitchen, her lean figure stretching and distorting on the curved surface. Sometimes it was just her, sometimes it was her and the baby as she soothed the child and sometimes it was all three of them as he came up, took the squalling infant and later the fractious toddler from her exhausted mother and held them both tight.
oOo
The pancakes were burning. "Damn it!" he exclaimed and snatched up the pan. Just at that Sam entered the room, looking slightly fresher but still not dressed in anything but her pj's. "You'll get cold in those." he remarked hoping to steer the conversation away from his culinary disaster.
"Not if you burn the house down." she retorted and he rolled his eyes at her.
She caught him as he ran his eye over the wide blue headband, her face falling a little. "It really does suit you, you know." he tried.
She gave him a small smile and came close. He reached a single arm out to embrace her as he poured more mix into the pan.
"Thank you, Jack."
"No problem, honey."
"No, I mean for the headband." She paused a little. "I know what it means to you."
Momentarily he froze. "Ah...I don't…"
She stretched up and kissed him. "I've seen the photographs, remember?"
Jack's mind filled with images from the old albums, pictures of his sister and his mother back when they were happy and later when the pictures had become a desperate attempt to hold onto the fading light in his life. Of course Sam would have recognised it. "She would have wanted you to have it you know."
She dropped a kiss onto his shoulder and playfully squeezed his butt, wordlessly asking him to keep the conversation light.
"So where's Molls?"
"Mol-llyy...is in her room choosing something to wear. I think she might want blue today." Sam wandered through into the lounge and dropped into the nearest soft chair. She was already tired, he could see her tying to hide it.
"Tea, hun?"
"Yes please." she smiled.
Since the treatment had started her body could no longer keep down coffee, so now she drank tea, herbal mostly and she loved it when he surprised her with a different flavour. Today he chose strawberry and rosehip, the box said it was supposed to help with digestive discomfort and he knew she had been up twice in the night feeling ill.
"Here you go." He brought it through and returned to where he was almost done making breakfast. "Molly." he shouted and Sam laughed. Damn it! He always did that! Even though his baby girl was deaf, he quite often forgot himself and called out to her. Sometimes he did it on purpose just to hear Sam laugh but today was not one of those days, he was not in a happy mood.
He wandered down the hall and peeped into his daughter's room. It was super messy again, she was going to have to tidy up. He tracked along the floorboards then placed his foot on the one she was standing on. Firmly he tapped twice and smiled when his princess looked over at him. Vibration was the gentlest way of gaining her attention when she was fully absorbed in a task. Two frustrated round eyes looked back at him.
"Oh, honey here." "Let Daddy, help you." He grinned at her, the sweet little thing was struggling to put on her sweater. It didn't matter that her blue pinafore was back-to-front or that they were yesterday's leggings, what mattered was that his little angel had practically dressed herself. He pulled her sweater over her head and she looked down at it, patting the little yellow ducks. "You like the…ducks?" She giggled and corrected his last word, apparently he had said something else. He sure as hell hoped that ASL words didn't work in similar ways to spoken words or he may well just have taught his baby her first curse word. Grimacing he picked her up.
"Mommy?" she asked, he nodded once in answer.
He picked up her hairbrush and then set it down again. Maybe Sam shouldn't brush the child's hair, not today. He sat down on the bed.
"Daddy?" she asked, questioning the break in routine.
"Let Daddy do it today." Obediently she turned around and he began running the soft brush through her fine hair. It didn't need brushed not really, it was still a little short but Molly loved the feeling and often ended up leaning in too close to enable the task to be finished.
oOo
He found himself holding his daughter tight, her contentedly leaning back against him. The hairbrush lay forgotten on the bed. Charlie was filling his mind, suddenly he was everywhere in the little yellow room. He could see him poking about in the toy box, playing with the dinosaurs that Molly loved so much, even the dolls. He was two, he was four, he was ten...he was gone. Furiously Jack buried his face in the back of the little girl's neck, feeling her warmth, her realness. How was he ever going to cope without her, without both of them? Locking away the ghost of the future he took them both off and into the lounge where he pulled Sam up, sat down and balanced both his girls on his knee. Sam stayed quiet as she nestled close, she understood his need.
"Your breakfast got cold." she whispered after awhile.
"Not hungry anymore." Jack absently replied.
"Oh come now, what kind of a thing is that to teach Molly?" She rose, sent her daughter off to the table and tugged him up out of the chair. "I know this is hard, but we'll get through it together."
Jack swallowed, pushing the reality of how lonely he would eventually end up being to the back of his mind. "One day at a time." he whispered. He tried a bright smile. She kissed him and Molly clapped making them both smile for real.
oOo
Breakfast was over and it was nearly time to go. They were all dressed in their good clothes. Jack found the smart but not overly dressed suit odd and uncomfortable. It was not very often he went anywhere formal, or even semi-formal in anything but his dress blues. Today they were highly inappropriate and Sam had laid him out something that she knew would be just right. She was standing beside him now hesitant and confused. It took a moment for him to realise why. She had managed her earrings but without a mirror she could not put on her makeup.
"I got it, sit down." His voice was a gentle as he dared to let it be. Too much and she would break, not enough and she would flee. She sat down next to him on the bed and he watched as she swallowed back her emotions. Wordlessly he applied the powder to her thin face. He knew exactly how she liked to wear her makeup, more than a few times he had done it for her. Either when she was lying unconscious in the SGC infirmary or when she was incapacitated.
Like the time when she had managed to break both her arms in a fall and could do practically nothing for herself. God she had been grouchy! That had been both the longest, most trying and the most intimate six weeks they had ever spent together. Jack always thought that it was a good thing it had been a month or so before the wedding and they were already sleeping together or it would have been very awkward for both of them. He had to bathe her, clothe her, feed her and please her, not that he minded that part.
The explosion had taken her over the edge of a twelve foot ravine and she had landed badly breaking her left wrist, her right arm very high up near the shoulder, her collarbone on the same side and she had damaged her neck. So she was in a full upper-body cast, her elbows stuck out like that guy in Friends who wanted to become the next Ultimate Fighter. She had also temporarily lost her hearing on one side and was shouting everything, especially the curse words when he laughed at her crab like manoeuvrings just to get in and out of a room.
"What are you smiling at?" she asked as he finished up and put the kit away.
"Oh nothing…crabby." he said and ducked as she swiped at him. She batted the back of his head a few times. "Okay, okay I surrender." he laughed.
Then she went still, an unasked question on the lips.
"You look as gorgeous as the first day I ever laid eyes on you." He kissed both her eyebrows, her nose and then her mouth.
"I love you Jack."
"I love you more."
"Not possible."
"Wanna bet?"
She leaned her forehead on his. "You ready?" He nodded against her skin, taking solace in the strength she was offering.
She stood and he took her hand. Molly was waiting, already buttoned up, her bottle green coat hiding her ducks and protecting her from the cold. Jack noted that Sam had placed a second pair of leggings on the girl and strapped her into sturdy shoes. It was chill outside and none of them knew how long they were going to be at the cemetery.
All that they knew is that this was something Sara really wanted and they could not deny her that. Jack would take his time with his son later, after the gathering was over and the people were all gone. The thought of seeing Sara again was something that Jack did not relish. It had been a long time and her phone call had come as a shock. Sam had answered it, he had heard her falter and then she had silently handed it over to him. Blind-sided by the sudden rush of painful memories he had agreed before he fully realised the extent of what his broken-hearted ex-wife was planning. Now he had to go and he was glad that Sam had insisted on coming along too. He could not do this without her.
oOo
Somehow, he realised that they were already in the car and Sam was driving. It had been his intention to travel in his car, there was more room for Molly in the back, but Sam seemed to have taken the initiative. It was fine he supposed... Actually it was not fine, it was giving him too much time to think.
"Sam, pull over."
"What? Why Jack?" He could see she was afraid he had changed his mind.
"I want to drive, Sam."
"But Jack, honey, we're nearly there."
He looked out the window, they were nearly there and he was not ready. He was not ready at all.
The car pulled up and he found himself glued to the seat, his eyes stuck on the dashboard dots. He couldn't do this, it was too much. Charlie hurt way too much, what he had done to Charlie hurt too much...
Sam was already round, Molly by the hand opening his door. He just shook his head. She came down to his level and waited till he looked at her. Her crystalline gaze was sharp, assessing. Molly grabbed his attention, her hands moving. Sam looked round at her.
"Not now Molly." Her tone was sharp as she pushed the little girl out of his direct line of sight. "Jack." she warned before he had the chance to speak. If it wasn't for the fact that he would be abandoning his wife and daughter to the cold he would have scooted across the seat and driven away like a madman.
"I can't Sam."
"You have to."
"I do not…" It was a feeble attempt at defiance, his words had caught in his throat and came out all weak and thready.
"Oh for god sake Jack!" Sam had lost her patients, he felt himself tense up. "If you think you are going to sit in here and punish yourself whilst Molly and I are over there dealing with the memory of your son, you can forget it. Since you learned of this memorial service you have been going on about how much you owe it to Sara to be here. Well Jack here's news for you. You do owe it to Sara...and you owe it to Charlie."
He found himself staring at her angry eyes, what was she saying? That she thought it was his fault too?
"But more importantly Jack O'Neill, you owe it to yourself. He was your child and he died...twenty years ago...today. You owe it to yourself to get out there and honour the fact that you loved him. Now give me your hand and let me help you be the caring and devoted father I know you were...that I know you are. Come and share your son with me...with me and your daughter."
She was wiping a tear away from her eye then her hand was outstretched. Without hesitation he took it.
oOo
Sara's husband and their two teenage sons were grouped together, dressed in dark clothes and looking appropriately sad. The older of the boys looked exactly like what Jack had expected Charlie to be like at sixteen. He turned away.
Sara was talking to the priest, no doubt telling him what she wanted to hear from him. Sara had married again within the year. She needed more love, another family and Paul was more than willing to give it to her. Jack had never resented Paul for giving Sara what she needed and he was glad that she felt she could move on. It just hurt that he could never find it in his heart to do the same.
Eventually he had and they were here with him now. He took Sam's hand and watched as Molly's all seeing eyes absorbed every piece of information that they could.
The priest was talking, he had missed his movements and hadn't been listening.
"...to honour the memory of Charlie O'Neill who was tragically taken from us at the tender age of just ten years..."
With horror Jack registered the words. No, no way. It was the same eulogy as they had suffered through on the day of his burial. He made to bolt but Sam caught him and jarred him in place. He was just about to fight her and run when Sara looked over and froze him to the very ground he stood upon. Her raw and open pain tore through him and he lost his fight. If she could do this then he must, it was that simple. He did owe it to Charlie to be here. He tried to block out the rest of the sermon but the same painful words seeped through, just like before. "Accident, untimely, sorrow, salvation." Each one burned like acid in his heart. And finally, finally it was over.
oOo
Sam was pulling him forward, where were they going? Then he was standing in front of Sara and the older boy...Aaron, he thought that was his name. Up close he looked even more like his son...like Sara's son. With nothing to say and nowhere to hide he bent down and pick up his daughter. Sara blinked, she had never met the child, probably didn't even know she existed.
"Ah, this is Molly." It was Sam's voice. "Molly say hi."
The little girl signed and smiled shyly, leaning her head in on his shoulder. Sara tilted her head, curious.
"Molly doesn't speak." he found himself saying, though the lord only knew why. "She got sick, lost her hearing. Chances are she'll be dead by the time she ten too." His voice, even to his own ears was emotionless and harsh.
"Ja-ack!"
He heard Sam's shocked exclamation. What the hell had he just said?
"Oh Jesus Sara I'm sorry."
Her teenage son was rubbing her back as she sobbed into his shoulder.
"You know what, you're an asshole, mister."
"Don't Aaron."
"No Aaron, you're completely right, I am an asshole. That was a terrible thing to say...Here take her." He handed Molly off to Sam, he needed to make this right. He reached a hand out.
"Don't you touch her, don't you dare touch my mother!"
"Aaron please!" Sara was back in defence mode. "Go and see your father, I need to speak to Jack alone." The boy left and Sara's eye ran to Sam who instantly backed off giving them some space, though he knew she wouldn't be too far away and was probably still listening.
Sara began to batter his chest and his arms.
He just let her.
"You're always the eff-ing same Jack O'Neill!" Sara never cursed, she eased off on her blows. "Why, why, why can't you just..." She let out a prolonged roar and then just stared.
"Why didn't you tell me Sara?" Suddenly he knew why he had lashed out at her.
"Tell you what Jack?"
"That it was going to be the same damned eulogy!" He fought hard to keep his voice and his temper down. "That was just cruel."
She folded, tears back on her cheeks. "I wasn't trying to be cruel Jack. I was going to tell you but… In truth I never thought you would show."
"You didn't think I would show?" He echoed her words, suddenly hurt. "So what, you didn't want me here?" He couldn't believe this.
"No Jack, of course I wanted you here." She was reaching out and a hand rested on his arm.
He realised that he had gone stalk still. It was almost like he was watching himself from afar and he recognised that this was a Jack O'Neill on the edge. He needed to be careful. This kind of sensation had not been on him since he was deep in black ops. Not even when he had beaten Cassie's drug pushing pimp into the ground. Briefly he wondered if the man had actually died, his resemblance to Molly was striking. Sara was speaking but it was white noise. Then Sam was back, pulling him away, telling her to back off. Paul came into view and the party broke up.
oOo
He was back in the car. Then he was back at home. Next thing he knew he was in the shower, the warm water running over his tense muscles. The door opened and he jumped back, ready to attack. Sam stood startled and naked before him.
"Where's Molly?" he asked, still on auto-pilot.
"I sent her over to the baby-sitter. I figured we could use some time alone...after today."
Jack just blinked at her, he was still numb. She stepped in beside him and closed the door. For a few minutes she didn't even touch him. Then slowly he felt her fingers running down his arm and he looked into her eyes. Love, concern and reassurance, those were the first three words that ran through his head. Taking a shaky breath he let his lips fall onto his wife's. He needed to let her heal him, bring him back from the edge in the best way she knew how, probably the only way at the moment. By having him make love to her.
oOo
They were nearly done and he knew now why she had chosen the shower. His grief filled tears mingled with the water that ran down his face, hidden from view. They both knew he was crying and he was pretty sure she was too but still they carried on, slow and deep. Each of his movements filled with feeling and devotion, they both needed the absolute closeness that only true love could bring. She was crying out softly and he was surprised. Surely his performance could not be that good, he was barely able to concentrate or control his body. But seemed it was and she was clinging to him, begging him to join her, so he let himself go.
They had both slept for a while after that, not even bothering to dry their bodies. The only act that had taken place was the placing of Sam's headband on the radiator. He would not allow her to wear it wet, the risk of her getting sick was too high. When Jack awoke again his world would come painfully crashing down and his time with Sam was to be much shorter than he realised.
The End
AN: So did Sam die at the end? You decided. I'm still not sure myself. If she did the story is over, if not there's room for more, but to be honest I think it would be fairer to just let Jack sleep for a while. Anyway please tell me what you think and like I said at the beginning, a lot of latitude please, on Jack, on Sam, on ASL, grief and drugs :)