Summary: Jack needs his family to remind him that he's not alone.

Timeframe: AU, any

Characters/Pairing: Established SJ

Genre: Drama, Angst, Family, Fluff

Rating: G.

Solidarity

He jerks himself awake in the dead of night, but doesn't know why. Jack rolls over onto his back and blinks, unseeing, up at the ceiling. It's dark, but he's expected that. It's been dark the last three nights he's woken. No matter the time or the place; it's always dark when you're blind.

It's temporary, his mind hisses. Corneal flash burn. That's what Fraiser called it. She's confident that his sight will return in a week or two. At least, that's what he hopes.

Jack turns on his side, but the mattress is cold no matter where he moves. The thought that he's alone frightens him. He sits up, on edge and breathing hard now. Panic surges in his gut; he feels himself trembling. He still doesn't know why he woke up. Maybe he subconsciously sensed that he was alone.

Finding the edge of the bed, Jack shoves away the blankets that are tangled with his limbs, and slides his legs over the side. He hears the click of the lightswitch and his head jerks up.

"Jack? Honey, are you alright? Did you need something?"

Not alone.

He remembers to breathe and nearly cries out in relief. She's here. He's not alone. How can he forget that she's here?

Her feet make soft, sweeping sounds against the wood floor, then the mattress sinks slightly with her weight. Jack feels her warmth as their legs touch. Her hand is in his hair, lightly stroking the back of his head before sliding to his neck.

"You're shaking." Her anxious voice whispers at his side.

Dammit, he's still trembling like a junkie aching for a fix. Jack inwardly curses his outward show of weakness. "I couldn't . . . I thought you . . . I thought I was alone," he blurts, this time unable to bury his desperation, to hide the obvious fact that he needs her. "Sam-"

Her hand rubs at his back; slow, soothing circles. "It's okay. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Uncomfortable, he pulls a hand through his hair and heaves an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. After a dragging silence, he dares to ask, "What time is it?"

"It's three-thirty in the morning, babe. I was just up to feed the twins," she tells him, softly, answering the question he can't bring himself to ask. Where did you go?

The twins. Of course. Their four-month-old twin boys normally woke about this time, hungry for their mother's milk. Jack nearly laughs at his irrational behavior upon waking. He hates being this needy and helpless. This is the first time he's been blinded by an injury, surprising considering the variety of grievances he's suffered in the line of duty, and he's finding it quite difficult to cope. Jack finds it humiliating how he requires help with absolutely everything, and frightening that he can't see his wife and children.

He figures he's been silent again for far too long, because the next thing he knows, Sam's hand is squeezing his upper arm, her soft voice asking with concern, "Jack, are you alright?"

Sucking in a hitched breath, he nods. She's rubbing his back again, and he realizes he's finally stopped shaking like a leaf. He brings up a hand to wearily scrub at his eyes, but his questing fingers are quickly, yet gingerly, slapped away.

"Don't rub your eyes," Sam warns in a tone far too reminiscent of Janet Fraiser.

Jack frowns. Now that the panic is buried once more, it's replaced with a feeling of frustration. He wants to go to his sons, to touch them, hold them, and know that they're there, that they're real, that this is real. But he can't get to the nursery on his own, no matter how well he thinks he knows the lay of the house, and he's too stubborn to ask for help. He's sure that he's had quite enough humiliation over the past few days.

She knows there's something wrong. He can tell by the way her hand settles between his shoulder blades, the subtle shift of her thigh against his own, and her slow, measured breaths. "What is it, Jack? Tell me."

He grits his teeth, aware that he's back to being irrational again, and more stubborn than he has a right to be. At least not with her. Jack knows there's no reason for him to feel humiliated with Sam. She's seen him through his best and his worst. And he knows things could certainly be worse. Blowing out a breath, he tilts his head in her direction. "Can you . . . can you take me to the boys?"

Her hand is squeezing his, now. She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't have to. He feels the mattress shift as she stands, carefully pulling him upright with her. Hooking an arm through his, Sam leads him slowly out of the bedroom and to the boys' nursery.

Jack can still hear the soft, fading music from the mobiles above the boys' cribs. Sam always turns them on after she's fed the twins during the night. It helps them go back to sleep. "I don't wanna wake 'em up. I just . . . I just want to . . ."

He feels Sam lean away from him, and assumes she's checking the boys. Then she's guiding him to sit down in the rocking chair he knows is by the window. "It's okay, they're not back to sleep yet," she tells him, her voice soft and warm.

The light weight of a baby is being lowered into his arms, sinking slowly to his lap. He hears his son gurgle, feels the tiny bundle squirming to get comfortable, snuggling into his stomach.

"This is Cody," Sam says quietly, letting him know which twin he's holding.

Jack's face twitches into a faint smile. His wife's hand briefly touches his cheek, and he feels himself relax a little more. He begins rocking in the chair, slowly, his temporarily unseeing eyes closing as sleep begins to claw at him once more.

He's holding Chase, twenty minutes later, when the pulsing pain behind his eyes draws him from a half-dozing state. An involuntary grunt jerks from his throat as one hand reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Jack? Chase is asleep now; why don't you go back to bed." Sam's there, gently lifting the apparently-sleeping infant from his arms and probably settling the baby in his crib once more.

Jack's face scrunches in pain, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight when the pounding behind his eyes continues.

Sam grips his upper arm, helping to pull him to his feet. "Come on, Jack. You need to rest. I'll get you a few of those tablets that Janet sent you home with." Her arm snakes around his waist as she leads him back to their room.

Jack's calmed down a bit by the time they're back in the room and he's had his pills. The uncomfortable, pounding pulse behind his eyes is fading. He tries getting comfortable beneath the blankets, a slow grin spreading across his face as he feels the mattress sink slightly with Sam's weight. He rolls onto his back, tilting his head towards her as she shifts closer, snuggling up against his side and placing her hand on his stomach. He feels her thumb gently stroking back and forth over his t-shirt, and wraps an arm around her back.

"Feeling better, now?" she asks him tiredly, and he knows she's about ready to drop off to sleep herself.

He nods, breathing deeply and settling his hand over hers. "Yeah. Lots better." Holding his twin boys, and now holding Sam, reminds Jack that he's not alone. He knows he'll never be alone, no matter what. His family won't be leaving him any time soon, and he won't be leaving them, either, if he can help it.

Closing his eyes, with confidence that no matter what happens, things will turn out okay, Jack can easily go back to sleep.

-The End-