Sorry for the outrageously long space between these chapters. Life got busy in a major way and I had no time to write. And then for the past two days my muse has been a real pain in the behonkus, wanting to put together a ridiculous pairing and run with it. I hate it when she's being stubborn.
Still having muse issues, but forcing myself to return to this story lest I lose it altogether.
Poll Results: Thanks for all who took the time to respond to the mysterious poll question I posted in various places. Took them all into an account and like the child/woman/insert other stereotype here that I am, I chose the minority of the votes. One comment that a voter made really stuck with me and I realized what I wanted to do with that particular storyline.
Previously: Ariston was just turning back to Colonel Carter when the little girl looked over to see what her brother was talking about and froze. The look she gave was one that Ariston could honestly say he hadn't seen in several years but one he had witnessed thousands of times before - pure unadulterated terror.
Day 27 (cont.)
Emma's sudden loud cries jerked Sam's gaze away from Ariston. Jack immediately squatted down next to Emma, his brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what was wrong.
Emma simply crumpled in his arms, crying the way she did only after a bad nightmare.
Picking her up, Jack turned a steely glare upon Ariston. "What did you do?"
"Jack!," Sam admonished
"I don't know," Ariston told him honestly, still confused over her reaction.
"You did something. She doesn't just break down bawling for no reason and she was fine before you got here!"
Sam stood up and walked over to Jack's side. She didn't expect Emma to want any comfort from her since Emma always wanted Jack when she got like this. Still, she had to try as it was obvious Jack was more interested in making baseless accusations.
"Yeah," Nathan shouted, "you made my sister cry!"
"Nathan, that's enough," Sam scolded him firmly. "Go get some napkins from the basket for Emma's nose."
Reaching her daughter's side, Sam rubbed Emma's back. "Hey, sweetie. What's wrong?"
Emma instantly reached out for her, shocking not only her but Jack as well. Emma's cries were getting louder so Sam walked away from everyone else to try and calm her. Finding a bench within sight of everyone else, Sam slowly sat down.
Brushing Emma's hair back from her face, Sam asked softly, "What happened, honey?"
Taking in stuttering breaths between sobs, Emma cried incoherently, "ee...real."
"What's real?," Sam tried, but Emma broke down into tears again. Rocking her slowly, Sam waited for Emma to calm down before she spoke again. Jack was still talking with Ariston - harshly by the looks of it - while Nathan stood off to the side watching with napkins in hand.
Sam fought down her own anger. She'd have to apologize to Ariston later. Jack was being thick-headed and obnoxious. Ariston hadn't done anything and he knew it.
Emma's cries subsided to a whimper and Sam tried again. "What's real, Emma?"
Emma paused, debating whether to say it out loud or not. Giving in, she confessed quietly, "The bad man from my dreams."
Sam stopped breathing. It wasn't possible.
"What bad man? Where did you see him?"
"You were talking to him."
"Why do you think he's a bad man?"
Emma cringed. "He hurts me and Daddy."
"Hurts you how?"
Emma just shook her head, refusing to talk about it.
Apprehensively, Sam asked, "Does the bad man have a name?"
Emma nodded against Sam's chest.
"What's his name, sweetie?"
Gripping the sleeve of Sam's jacket, Emma answered, "Ba'al."
The crunch of leaves had Sam looking up as the breath left her chest. Jack stood frozen a few feet away, his eyes glazed with a blank mask. He closed his eyes slowly, obviously having heard Emma's confession. Without a word, Jack turned and walked rigidly in the opposite direction.
Nathan tried to follow but Jack curtly told him to stay put as he stormed off. Nate's face fell and when he finally looked at her, Sam waved him over.
Sam shut her eyes at the awful truth of that one word. All this time, Emma had been having nightmares about Jack's torture by Baal. No wonder she was so clingy to Jack when she had them. Jack - Sam's chest clenched. He would never forgive himself for this. As if the man didn't have a million other things that he beat himself senseless for.
Sam turned Emma to look her directly in the eye. "Emma, that man is not the man from your dreams. I know he may look just like him, but I promise you," Sam emphatically stated, "I promise you, it is not him. His name is Ariston and he is a good man. I even work with him sometimes at the mountain."
Emma's eyes widened fearfully. Mama worked with that bad man? But that meant she was in trouble! He'd kill her, just like he did her and Daddy! "Mama, you can't! Send him away! He'll hurt you! I don't want him to hurt you!"
"Emma! Emma!" Sam called over the girl's screams. "Emma, calm down!" Sam pulled Emma into her chest and rocked her. "There, shhhh. It's okay. Ariston's not a bad man, Emma. I promise. I would never ever do anything to put you in harm's way, honey."
Emma didn't say anything for a long time. Finally she whispered, almost as if afraid to admit it, "He scares me."
"That's okay. You've had bad dreams and then you saw a man that looked like the one from your dream. I'd be scared too. But you don't have to be scared of this man."
Tentatively, Emma asked, "Really?"
"Really."
Nathan sat down on the bench, looking sullenly down at the napkins in his hand. Sam placed her right hand on the back of his neck, rubbing her thumb back and forth across his skin.
"What did that man do to Emma?," he asked, still not looking up from the ground.
"He didn't do anything, honey. He just looks like someone from her bad dreams."
Nathan chewed the inside of his cheek, deep in thought. Finally he asked, "How come Daddy yelled at him then?"
Sam sighed. There was a loaded question. "Daddy misunderstood. He thought maybe Ariston had done something, but he didn't."
Nathan looked at the back of Emma's head. "Is Emma okay?"
He was such a good big brother. Sam pulled Nathan to her side and gave him a one sided hug. "She'll be okay. She's just upset right now."
Jack found them thirty minutes later, looking no better for his time alone. Silently, he packed up their little picnic and they all walked quietly to the car. The tension in the air was thick, mixed emotions roiling through all of them.
When they pulled up at the house, Jack didn't turn off the car. Sam looked at him questionably. He didn't turn his gaze away from the front windshield.
"I'm gonna go to the gym for a little while."
"Jack..."
He snapped his head in her direction, locking eyes with hers. "I'll be back in a bit. I promise."
Sam nodded. He was furious and needed some way to vent some of that or he was going to lose it.
It was close to the kids bedtime when Jack finally came home. If one were to see Nathan and Emma now, they would never have known just how upset both of them had been earlier. Emma was already in her pj's, spinning around in circles in the living room and singing in an operatic voice at the top of her lungs. Nathan was halfway dressed for bed, walking down the stairs and tugging a shirt on at the same time.
Emma spotted Jack first. "Hi Daddy." She ran up to him and Jack picked her up. She met his eyes with a serious gaze. "Are you mad at me?," she asked.
"No. Why would I be mad at you?"
"I don't know," she shrugged. "But you're wearing your frowny face."
Jack gave her a weak smile. "I'm just tired."
"That's 'cause it's bedtime."
"So it is." Jack looked for any sign of Sam and couldn't find her. Setting Emma down, he told her, "Go hop in bed. I'll be up in a minute."
Emma did, sticking her tongue out at Nate on the way past for reasons Jack didn't know. Nate made a face behind her back.
Nate didn't move from the bottom of the stairs after Emma left. Jack had yelled at him. Nate was a pretty sensitive kid and he was still smarting from the unfair treatment.
Jack gestured with his hand. "C'mere."
Nate listened, if a little relunctantly. Jack pulled his son against his side, stroking Nate's muddy brown hair. Absently, Jack noted how long it was getting. He'd need a cut soon.
"I'm sorry."
Nate wrapped his arms around Jack in a move of silent forgiveness. "It's okay. You thought that man did something bad to Emma. Mom told me." Nate looked up at him with a lop-sided grin. "We gotta protect our girls, right?"
Jack smiled softly at hearing what he often told Nate said back at him. "Yeah, we do. But I still shouldn't have yelled at you. You didn't do anything wrong. I was just mad and I took it out on you. And I'm sorry."
The sound of clattering dishes in the kitchen had Jack looking over his shoulder. "Your mom in the kitchen?"
"Yeah. She's been in there a long time."
Jack nodded. "You brushed your teeth yet?"
Nate scrunched up his nose. "No," he grumbled.
Jack ruffled the boys hair. "Get to it then. I'll be up in a minute. Check on your sister while you're up there, will ya?"
"K." Nate shot up the stairs while Jack turned for the kitchen.
Sam was doing dishes of all things. He glanced at their perfectly good dishwasher. Nope. Still there. Jack couldn't tell if she knew he was there or not. Sometimes his old op skills came in handy but other times Sam would surprise him by saying something without otherwise acknowledging his presence. With Carter, he could never tell.
Walking up behind her, Jack wrapped his arms around her waist, causing Sam to jolt just a little. Score one for his sneaky skills. Sam stilled, her arms soapy up to the middle of her forearm. Kissing right above the collar of her shirt, Jack rested his forehead on her shoulder and silently rubbed his thumbs over her swollen abdomen.
They stayed that way for a while before Sam broke the silence. "Genetic memory makes sense if you think about it. About as much sense as the repository passing down anyway. Why would the brain pick and choose what to send? It's unknown how it works but it is possible. We know that much."
The Goa'uld had genetic memory. Great. Just what he wanted to be compared to. Of course, the snakes could also control what was passed on to their offspring.
"Humans have instinctual behaviors just like other animals. Maybe that's just a lesser form of genetic memory and we've had the capability all along." Sam switched gears, rambling the various thoughts and ideas she had. Jack let her, knowing she needed it. "The Ancients couldn't have foreseen this outcome. As far as we're aware, they didn't naturally have that ability."
"I'm sorry," and damn it if his eyes didn't get a little wet. But he was tired and it was one thing after the other and now his daughter was having to relive one of the worst things that had ever happened in his life over and over again and it was all his fault. If he wasn't so unbelievably angry to counter the grief, Jack was sure the tears would fall and there would be nothing he could do to stop them.
Sam's hands covered his, still wet and sudsy from the dishes. She gripped them firmly, intertwining their fingers. Slowly, she released them and turned. Jack stood up straight as Carter moved, not sure if she wanted to get away from him.
Sam looked him squarely in the eye. "No more stupid apologies, okay? You would never hurt Emma. What's going on here can't be helped. And yeah, that sucks. But it doesn't make it any more your fault."
Jack remembered saying those same words to Sam in D.C. not all that many months ago. Before he could say anything, Sam continued talking. "We already know there's nothing we can do to remove the memories. All we can do is help her through it."
She was right, of course. It didn't make him stop wanting to go back in time and ground that snake beneath his shoe or track down the stupid Ancient who'd invented the repository in the first place though.
Jack leaned into her, pressing his forehead against hers, secretly glad when she brought her hand up and caressed the side of his face.
"Why that?," Jack couldn't help but ask. "Why does that have to be the thing she remembers?"
Sam moved her hand to the back of his neck. "I don't know. Maybe because it was an event that left a huge impact on you. It stands out from the others."
The sound of crying startled them apart. Any parent could tell the difference between cries and right now, Nathan was crying in pain.
Jack ran up the stairs and followed the cries to the bathroom. Nate was on the floor, tears running down his cheeks with a hand on his neck. Emma held his other hand and as Jack entered the door, Nate shouted, "Emma, let go of me!" and turned away from them both.
It was then Jack spotted Sam's razor on the floor, a faint red on the blade. Jack was torn between being furious and scared. Forcibly turning Nate around, Jack removed the hand from Nate's neck and found a thin slice where the blade had cut him. It wasn't deep but probably stung like hell.
"He cut his hand, too," Emma tattled.
Jack looked at the hand Nate had had against his neck and other than a little blood didn't find anything. Glaring at Emma, Nate offered his other hand. It had a nasty bright red line all the way across his palm.
"How did that happen?"
Nate continued glaring, now somewhere behind Jack. "I fell off my step."
Jack looked behind him and sure enough, Nate's step was upside down.
"What happened?," Sam asked as she reached the bathroom.
"Nate fell off his step and cut himself using a razor." Feeling for bumps, Jack asked Nathan, "Did you hit your head?"
"No." Nate wiped his nose with his sleeve, no longer crying. "I tried to grab the counter but cut my hand on the corner when I fell down."
Seeing that the worst Nathan would need was some rubbing alcohol to prevent infection, Jack sternly scolded, "What were you doing with a razor anyway? I told you not to mess with them."
"I-I just wanted to do it myself."
"Dang it, Charlie." Jack froze. He'd thought of Charlie the second he'd seen the blade on the floor with Nate's hand over his throat. But to say it out loud, confuse them like that - he was tired. That was all it was. Jack closed his eyes in frustration. "Just - go get in bed. We'll talk about this later."
He heard Sam go with Nathan, taking him to the kitchen to clean up his cuts before putting him in bed.
"Naten doedn't look like Charlie, Daddy," Emma mused, still sitting on the floor.
Jack had never talked to Emma about Charlie before. He wasn't actively avoiding it, but she was only three after all.
"How do you know what Charlie looks like?"
"The pictures in the libing room. You know, the one with you and the lady and Charlie."
The lady was, of course, Sara. Most of his pictures of Charlie were either the boy by himself or just with Jack, Sara having taken the picture. When Jack and Sam had gotten married, Jack took the one with Sara down, not wanting it to bother her. Sam had noticed and put it back up when he hadn't been around.
Carter must have talked to Emma about Charlie at some point. Jack was just glad to hear Emma say that she knew what Charlie looked like from pictures and not from some inherited memory.
"Let's go to bed, kiddo."
Two hours later and Jack still couldn't sleep. Emma was passed out on top of him, her hair tickling his nose. Judging that she was deep enough into sleep to allow it, Jack slowly placed Emma on the bed next to Carter and slipped out of bed.
Once in the kitchen, Jack seriously considered having a beer. He settled for a glass of milk. The gallon jug was heavy in his hand, his arm sore from the pounding he'd forced it to endure earlier at the gym.
Ba'al. It had taken a lot to recover from that. Jack had been ready to spill his guts, anything to stop the pain. To have Ba'al kill him for good. Even at the cost of that woman's life. He had been broken.
Jack prayed that Emma's nightmares weren't in full technicolor. Did she feel the acid burn into her chest? The knives sinking into the hilt by the pull of the forced gravity? Jack's hand gripped the glass so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Did she hear his thoughts, too? Did Emma have to suffer through his despair as well as his pain?
Jack's anger boiled over and he threw his glass against the wall. Milk splattered everywhere, pieces of glass laying in various puddles. The sound of the glass shattering was loud and most likely woke Carter, if not one of the kids.
"Crap," Jack muttered, carefully stepping around the mess to get the broom out of the hall closet.
Sam did get woken up by the sound, making her way down the stairs when Jack had just about finished sweeping up the glass. She blinked against the light of the kitchen before surveying the soggy broom, glass pile, and milk spread over the floor.
Jack gave her a chagrined grimace, moving to throw away the pieces of glass. Without a word, Sam took a dishtowel and tossed it on the floor, moving it around with her bare foot.
"I've got it," Jack said, trying to shoo her off from helping him clean up his mess.
"It'll go faster if we both do it."
Knowing she wasn't going to listen to him anyway, Jack got another towel and followed Carter's example.
Once they were done, Sam asked, "You want to talk about it?"
He looked around the kitchen, stalling for time, before settling his gaze back on her. "Not really."
Sam nodded, crossing the distance to where he stood and pecked him on the lips. "Let's go to bed."
Jack's body readily agreed, even if his mind was far too occupied to let him sleep. The high-pitched scream that sounded as he flicked off the kitchen light set his adrenaline pumping. It was going to be another long night.
Taking the stairs three at a time, Jack ran into the bedroom and hauled Emma into his arms. The jerky movement woke her up and she cried anguished tears.
Jack rocked her in his arms, guilty tears stinging his eyes. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."
