Someone needed him.
Jack couldn't tell how or why, but when he awoke a couple of hours later, he could have sworn it was because he heard someone calling his name. Of course, it could have been a result of the indigestion, but Jack was never one to ignore his gut instincts… whether they were smoked salmon induced or not. He was still dressed, he noticed as he gingerly climbed out of bed. Standing up, he took a second to make certain that nothing was going to spew out of him, but for the moment at least, his stomach was calm. His knee, however, was another matter. He felt a definite twinge as he tested his weight. Nothing serious, but enough to make walking uncomfortable he realised as he tottered out of the room.
The house was dark. Silent.
To his left was Carter's room, but the door was firmly shut. It seemed too intimate a place for him to venture without invitation. She was the only other person in the house. Had she called out to him?
"Carter?" he called softly.
Without warning, the door crashed open and she was standing there… a vision in flannel pyjamas, fluffy slippers and carrying a Beretta M9. Jack felt his heart give a painful thump. She'd never looked more beautiful.
"Did you hear something?" she asked.
"Yeah."
Without another word, she led the way down the corridor to check the rest of the house. The windows, the doors … everything still seemed secure.
"Better take a look outside," he suggested.
Nodding, Carter moved to the front door, standing to one side whilst Jack pulled it open. As she stepped into the night, someone… or something screamed. Jack didn't even think as he charged after her, only to find Sam crouched on the ground, one arm around a very familiar figure. Cassandra. Carter's other hand still held the gun and Jack was quick to take it from her and slip the safety on. Accidents did happen, he thought bleakly to himself.
The girl in Carter's arms was sobbing hysterically. Jack didn't catch much of what she was trying to say…
"Robbie… broke up… bastard…" were about the only words he could make out.
Carter was rocking her back and forth, uttering words of comfort and Jack suddenly realised that he was just getting in the way. Cassandra needed a mother figure, and as much as he would have liked to help, he knew that he wasn't the one she wanted right now.
He didn't know exactly what he could do, but he figured that both Carter and Cassie would be cold by the time they had finished. Searching through Carter's cupboards was an educational experience … Christmas dinner would probably be Mac and Cheese… but he did manage to find hot chocolate and fresh milk. Jack could still feel the late night chill. Looking out of the window, he cast a glance at the overcast sky. There would snow before morning.
"Here," he said to Carter pushing a mug into her hands.
"I sent her straight to bed," she said, ignoring the hot drink.
"Okay if I take her some of this?"
Carter nodded. He noticed her hands were shaking.
Cassie was in the guest room, buried beneath the comforter, pretending to sleep. Jack didn't disturb her, but left the hot chocolate on the nightstand.
"I put in marshmallows," he whispered before closing the door.
She'd be okay, he figured. At least she'd had the sense to come home.
Carter was waiting for him in the kitchen, taking measured sips of her drink. She was a model of calm now the crisis had passed.
"How long had she been outside?" Jack asked.
"She got a flight into Denver, then took the bus… she must have walked a fair way… she forgot her key," Carter replied. Her voice was a little unsteady and Jack realised she wasn't as composed as she'd first appeared.
"At least we heard her," he reasoned.
"And if we hadn't?"
"Let's not go there."
She turned towards him, holding his gaze for a few seconds.
"C'mere," Jack said.
He held her close. After so many years, Jack knew how to comfort her. She didn't want words… just a chaste kiss on the nape of her neck, a hand stroking her hair.
'Here we
are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore.
Faithful
friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more.'
