Summary: Sam, Went shopping. Be back soon. -Jack

Timeframe: AU, sometime after The Fifth Race

Characters/Pairing: Established SJ

Genre: Angst, Drama, Family

Rating: PG

Milk Run

Sam woke up lying on her side, the enormous state of her beach ball belly making it impossible to find comfort in any other sleeping position. She nuzzled her head into the pillow sleepily, hoping to get a few more minutes of peaceful rest, until the squished up organs and the fetus inside her womb pressing against her bladder insisted that she drag herself out of bed to use the bathroom. Sighing heavily, Sam wormed her way over to the edge of the bed and rolled to a sitting position as her bare feet hit the cool wood of their bedroom floor. With one hand beneath her protruding stomach, Sam levered herself to her feet with a groan and waddled to the bathroom, trying to straighten out the twisted fabric of her nightgown.

After she'd relieved herself and freshened up a bit, splashing some warm water on her face, Sam padded out of the bathroom, planting her hands on her hips and blinking with furrowed brows as her blue eyes scanned the bedroom. Her husband was no where in sight, so she waddled out to the kitchen, suspecting he might be there, instead, since he was obviously already up.

There was no sign of Jack in the kitchen, either, only a fresh pot of coffee on the counter, and a scrap of paper with Jack's familiar scrawl, sitting on the counter beneath an empty coffee mug. Making her way toward the enticing aroma of coffee, even though she knew it would have been decaf, Sam poured the brew into the awaiting mug while her eyes lazily scanned over her husband's note.

Sam

Went shopping.

Be back soon.

-Jack

She smiled, one hand tenderly stroking her abdomen as the baby kicked. She opened the refrigerator, only to discover they were out of milk. Glancing longingly into her black coffee cup, Sam shook her head and laughed softly to herself. No wonder Jack had gone shopping so early.

Resigning herself to having black, decaf coffee, Sam took her mug, and the newspaper left lying on the kitchen table, and ambled out to the back deck.

-

The phone rang, forty-five minutes later, when she'd just finished in the shower. Wrapped in a terrycloth robe, Sam waddled for the phone, hoping it was Jack calling to say he'd stopped off somewhere else after picking up the milk, or that he'd decided to go on an all out grocery shopping spree. She knew the simple errand shouldn't have taken quite so long, and had been getting a little paranoid. Where was he?

Tentatively, she answered the phone, wondering who would be calling her at nine o'clock in the morning on a Saturday, when she wasn't supposed to be at work. It had better be Jack. "Hello?"

"Sam, it's Janet. There's been an accident."

The straightforward tone in her friend's voice had Sam freezing where she stood by the bureau near the bed. Her mind didn't want to fathom what her instincts were trying to tell her. "Who?" she managed. "Daniel or Teal'c?" Teal'c was off-world on an excursion with SG-13, and although Daniel was on base, doing work in his lab, he could manage to injure himself in a plastic bubble.

"No, Sam."

When she heard Janet sigh, Sam sunk heavily onto the edge of the bed with the phone to her ear. Her voice shook as the baby grew restless within her womb. "Janet?" She rubbed her belly with circular motions, but her child would not settle.

"Sam, I'm at the Academy Hospital. I was down in the ER when they brought him in. It . . . it's Jack."

Over the phone, Sam could hear the emotion in her friend's voice, even as the blood rushed loudly in her ears, the baby's movements now relentless. Her eyes widened in shock. "Jack?"

"He was in a car accident, sweetie."

"What?" Sam's voice was disbelieving. She didn't want to believe. Standing, she began to pace, babbling into the phone as she did, and shaking her head. "No. No, he's fine. Jack's fine. He just went out this morning to get some milk and . . . He's fine."

"Sam." Janet's voice, patient and coaxing. "Honey, listen to me; I've already sent Daniel to pick you up. He's on his way. Just stay put, and try to keep calm. Jack will be alright; he's in good hands."

Sam knew that Janet wanted her to stay calm for the baby, but she couldn't help the anxiety that rushed through her. Her mind was numbed. She mumbled something softly to Janet and hung up the phone.

-

Arriving at the hospital with Daniel fussing over her, supportively holding her arm and placing a hand at the small of her back, Sam was relieved when Janet met them at the reception desk. She was trying desperately to control her emotions and breathe slowly. She didn't need Janet telling her to rest if her blood pressure went up due to stress.

"How is he?" Daniel asked when it became obvious that Sam wasn't able to say the words.

"He's hanging in there," Janet assured them with a tight smile, grasping Sam's hand. In a soft voice, she began to explain his injuries. "Jack regained consciousness at the scene; that's a good sign. The broken ribs he's suffered caused his lung to collapse, but the paramedics used a needle to decompress his chest in the ambulance before rushing him here, where Dr. Fitzgerald installed a chest tube. On top of that he's got a mild concussion, and his left leg was broken in three places; closed, compound tib-fib fractures. He's going to need surgery for his leg. The orthopedic surgeon is going to put in pins and plates to stabilize the breaks."

Oh, God. Sam sniffed, suddenly aware of the tears that were silently streaking down her pale cheeks. She was both horrified and relieved. Jack would be okay. He had a long recovery ahead of him, and he wouldn't be happy, but he'd be okay. "Can I see him?"

"Mm-hm." Janet nodded, leading her by the arm as Daniel remained on her other side. "Jack's in pre-op right now. He was conscious when I was in there a few minutes ago. He wants to see you before they take him into surgery for his leg."

Smiling tightly, Sam allowed herself to be led to her husband's room. She stifled a groan as the baby kicked, one hand braced beneath her extended stomach as they ambled down the long corridor.

It seemed like ages before they got to the pre-op room. There were other patients in the large, open area, hidden by privacy curtains, and waiting to go into surgery for their own procedures. Sam's legs felt like spaghetti when Janet pulled back the curtain in the corner to reveal her husband. He was propped up into a sitting position, due to the tube in his chest, and his left leg was in a temporary splint. From what she could see through the opening in his hospital gown around the chest tube, the rest of his upper torso was a mass of painful-looking bruises.

Feeling over-emotional, and cursing her rampant hormones, Sam let out a sob as Daniel and Janet quickly guided her into a chair at Jack's bedside.

"Easy, Sam; it's okay," Janet's soft voice in her ear did little to calm her turbulent emotions.

Sam reached for Jack's hand as his eyelids fluttered. "Jack?" She sniffed. His fingers felt cold against her own. "Jack, baby, it's me. Can you hear me?" Her voice shook, sounding wet with her crying.

"Sam." Jack managed a weak grin, as his eyes tracked to her face, his fingers twitching faintly against her hand. His breathing sounded labored, and his nose twitched at the oxygen tube tickling his nostrils.

"Hey." Working up a smile, she took in a deep breath in an attempt to control her sobbing. Sam didn't want him to think she was getting worked up; she wouldn't give him cause to worry about her and the baby. Gingerly, she reached out with her free hand to lightly brush at the stray strands of grey at his forehead. "Some milk run, huh?" she offered lightly.

He snorted, then grimaced, a hand sliding up to clutch at his ribs. When Jack's eyes met hers again, his brows knit together in a slight frown. "I'm sorry."

"No, no." Sam shook her head, sniffing again as she felt more tears slide down her face. Her thumb stroked over his rough hand. "It's not your fault, Jack."

He looked uncomfortable, and Janet swiftly moved in to inject something into his IV. She then glanced sideways, and as Sam followed her friend's gaze, she realized that the nurses had arrived to take her husband to the OR. "Sam," Janet said gently. "They're ready for him in surgery, now."

She sniffled, nodding absently, her lower lip trembling as Daniel helped her back to her feet. Leaning over, she kissed Jack on the forehead and smoothed back his hair. "I'll see you when you get out, okay?"

His head tipped slightly in a nod. "'Kay."

It was obvious that Jack was fairly doped on painkillers, and Sam hated leaving him like this. She groaned as the baby kicked again. Their child obviously wasn't very happy, either.

"Sam?" Janet's gentle voice. "Daniel's going to take you to one of the family rooms now. You can lie down there, if you want; get something to eat. I'm going to be scrubbing in for the surgery."

Sam felt the air rush out of her as she heaved a sigh of relief. She nodded. "Okay." She doubted she'd be able to eat, but a rest would be good; she felt like she could collapse at any moment.

-

Lying on the couch in the family room at the hospital, Sam rested, but couldn't sleep. She forced herself to stay calm, and not get worked up, but she was still so worried about Jack. Apparently her distress was quite obvious, because Daniel hadn't taken his eyes off her. Glancing sideways at him, after awkwardly pushing herself to sit up, Sam softly asked, "How did it happen; do you know?"

Daniel's brows twitched faintly, but he didn't pretend not to know what she was asking. He leaned forward in his chair, knees on his elbows. "The police reported that he was hit by a garbage truck that ran through a stop sign."

"God." Sam's eyes widened, one hand absently rubbing circles over her protruding stomach.

"Yeah," her friend breathed, smiling tightly. Daniel got up and went to sit beside her, his hand settling on her knee. "So, all things considered, it could've been a lot worse. The police said that if Jack had been driving a car instead of a truck . . . " he trailed off, not needing to say the words.

Sam breathed shakily, staring vacantly at an invisible spot of air between her stomach and the coffee table.

Daniel clapped his hands on his thighs beside her and got up. "Hey, I'm gonna grab you something to eat, okay? Janet'll kill me if you haven't eaten anything by the time Jack's out of surgery," he said, obviously trying to lighten the mood. "So, what do you say?"

Putting a hand to her forehead and swiping errant bangs out of her face, Sam looked up and smiled tightly at her friend with a nod. "Okay. Just a sandwich then."

"You got it." Daniel smiled at her, glancing back at her just before he stepped out of the room.

Sam sunk back against the couch with a heavy sigh and a groan. Dammit, her back ached, and she had to pee again. This pregnancy thing was starting to wear a little thin. And it didn't help that she was very worried about Jack, and the little one inside her seemed to be sensing her distress as well. The baby had been in almost constant motion since she'd found out about Jack. It was like their unborn child had known.

-

Sam slouched in the visitor chair at her husband's bedside in the recovery room. He'd been out of surgery for nearly an hour now, and she was waiting for him to wake. Luckily, the visitor chairs in the hospital were much more comfortable than the ones on the base, and due to privilege of rank, Jack had been put in a private room. Sam was grateful for the privacy, and the knowledge that there was plenty of room for their family to visit and sit together.

Daniel had been taking good care of her, making sure she ate and rested, and remained calm, but she was grateful for some time alone with Jack when the archaeologist ventured off for some coffee and snacks. He made some excuse about needing to call the base to see if Teal'c was back from off-world yet, but Sam knew that her friend could tell that she was getting a little annoyed with his hovering and constant molly-coddling, and was giving her some much needed space.

She'd been dozing for some time when a raspy, yet familiar, nonsensical voice roused her. It was Jack. He was awake. Blinking as she sat up with some effort, Sam was startled to find her husband attempting to struggle out of bed, currently pulling the IV out of his arm. He was mumbling something, and there was a hazy, glazed look in his dark eyes. She got up with a grunt to place a firm, restraining hand on his arm. "Jack, honey, what are you doing? You just had surgery; you need to lie still."

"I gotta go. My wife's havin' the baby," he mumbled, still trying to get up, despite all the tubes and wiring still attached to him.

Sam reached for his call button. "Jack, I'm right here. The baby isn't due for another ten weeks." She winced as he jarred his left leg trying to swivel in bed, and hissed in pain. "Can I get a nurse in here!" she shouted. Where was Daniel when she needed him?

Jack kept mumbling and struggling to get out of bed, but all the tubes, and his broken leg were hindering his movements. "Think I left the . . . stove on . . . Lasagna's gonna . . . burn."

He was definitely altered. What kind of drugs did they have him on? Sam kept trying to calm him and keep him still, but there was only so much a heavily pregnant woman could do. "Jack, you're going to hurt yourself. Nurse!"

Thankfully, a nurse rushed into the room, followed closely by Janet. Fraiser instructed the nurse to help hold Jack down, while she went to fetch a sedative. She was cursing under her breath when she returned to Jack's bedside, wielding the injection. "Dammit, I told Lieutenant Caffrey to give him Percocet instead of Codeine!" she huffed in annoyance.

Sam's brows furrowed, still trying to help the nurse keep Jack still while the sedative took effect. She worriedly stroked at the sweaty hair along her husband's forehead while he settled. "Janet?" The nurse re-inserted Jack's IV, and backed off.

"Sorry, Sam." Janet smiled tightly. "We just have to adjust his medication. You know how he gets a little wonky on straight-narcotic pain relief." She checked the chest tube, obviously making sure Jack hadn't torn his stitches, before examining his leg for the same reason. Janet checked his breathing next, then clipped a pulse/ox monitor to one of his fingers and adjusted the flow on his oxygen tank.

"He's okay, right?" Sam asked with a hint of trepidation. "I mean . . . his leg and everything's going to heal fine . . . Right?"

Janet's hesitant look startled Sam. "The surgery went well, Sam. It depends on Jack, now. He's going to have to take it slow for a while; no overdoing it like he knows how to do. Strict physiotherapy regiments while that leg fully heals."

Sam felt her brow twitch, and reached for her now-unconscious husband's hand. "But he'll be fit for field duty again, won't he?" She sunk into the chair at Jack's bedside, suddenly feeling the full weight of her exhausted, heavily pregnant body.

"I'm confident he will." Janet nodded, her hand gently patting Sam's shoulder.

-

Sam hovered just inside the door to Jack's recovery room. The lights had been dimmed for the night, and she was hidden in shadow, her husband's bed illuminated by the faint glow of moonlight and street lights outside the hospital room window. Jack was quiet and still. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, and his hands lay unmoving over his middle. Sam rested one hand over the swell of her stomach, the other below. When the baby grew restless, she stepped toward her husband's bed, talking to her unborn child. "I know; you want your daddy to be okay, too." She smiled confidently, lowering herself into the chair at Jack's bedside. "He will be. I know it. Your Daddy's strong, kiddo."

While she watched her husband get the rest he sorely needed and deserved, Sam felt the baby settle in her womb. She smiled to herself and reached out to take Jack's hand, his fingers feeling cool in her warmer ones. The digits twitched briefly, and a rush of comfort washed over her. Then his eyes opened, and she felt her cheeks pull into an involuntary smile.

"Hey . . . you," he murmured sleepily, his voice hoarse and gravelly.

Her thumb began rubbing slow circles over his hand, bumping tenderly over the bony knuckles. "You with me this time?"

Jack's brows twitched together for a moment. He opened his mouth, obviously stuck with what to say, but Sam simply gazed at him tenderly.

"It's okay," she assured him. "Janet said one of the nurses gave you the wrong pain medication. Last time you woke up you were pretty loopy."

His eyebrows went up this time. "Ah." He nodded his head slowly against his pillows with understanding.

Sam smiled again, though this time it was a teasing one. "First you thought I was in labor, and then you were insisting you needed to get the lasagna out of the oven before it burned." She laughed softly at the befuddled look that flashed across her husband's face.

"Huh." He snorted, then winced and brought his free hand up to touch his chest, near the tube that was there.

Concerned with his discomfort, Sam squeezed his hand firmly. "You want me to get a nurse?"

After a beat, he frowned, giving his head a slight shake. "No, I'm fine."

Sam scooted her chair closer to his bed. She felt the baby kick, and gently tugged his hand to press his palm against her belly. "I think the baby's been worried about Daddy."

Jack grinned crookedly, cocking an eyebrow.

She shrugged, then felt the baby moving again when Jack lightly stroked his fingers along her stomach. "Ooh!"

His eyes widened, an awed look on his face. "I felt that," he said lowly.

Sam smiled, then pushed herself to her feet and leaned over so she could give him a kiss. Pushing back slowly, she smoothed back his hair.

"You should get some rest," he told her.

Feeling grateful for his tender concern, Sam trailed her hand lightly down his arm. "I will. You too, though," she insisted.

Jack rolled his eyes before his face screwed up in confusion.

"What?" Sam asked quietly, tilting her head and wondering what was wrong.

The confusion was washed away by a frown. "We still don't have milk."

Sam laughed, shaking her head as she leaned down one last time to give him another kiss. He was going to be fine. The three of them were. She was sure of it.

-The End-