Sam sat despondently on her sofa. Grace was curled in her lap. Marge had taken one look at Sam and decided to stay and make her some tea. Grace had already had dinner and Marge knew if Sam hadn't, she wouldn't want any.

"Grace, why don't you get ready for bed doll?"

"Do I have to Auntie Marge?"

"Yes dear. Go on."

Grace sighed and kissed her mom's cheek. "I'm sorry you're sad, mommy." She told her then headed down the hall.

Sam propped her elbow on the arm rest and put her chin in her hand, blinking away tears.

"I know you can't tell me what happened Sam, but I'm here for you."

Sam swallowed a sob and Marge was next to her holding her. Whatever it was, it had been terrible. Sam hadn't cried like this since Jack came back from being missing… uh oh… "Sam…?"

Sam shook her head though so Marge just held her until she calmed down again. "We lost Daniel." Sam finally choked out.

"Oh no! Lost as in missing or lost as in…?"

"Jack says he's still alive but… he's... he's not. There's no way." Sam sobbed.

Marge knew Sam loved Daniel as much as she did Mark and pretty much in the same way. "Oh buttercup." She said sadly. And where the hell was Jack anyway? This was something they should be handling as a team not alone individually.

"He's gone, Aunt Marge." Sam said miserably.

Marge scooted them so Sam's head was on her shoulder and she stroked through her hair that had finally started to grow back a bit after it had been shorn by Sam's kidnappers a few months ago. "I'm sorry doll. I'm so sorry."

"Mommy, what happened to Uncle Daniel?" Grace said coming back.

"He had to go on a very long trip, sweetie." Sam told her.

"Is he coming back?"

Sam shook her head. "I don't think he can." She admitted.

"Not ever?"

Sam shook her head.

"How come Uncle Jack and Uncle Teal'c aren't here?" She asked.

"Uncle Jack is very angry that Uncle Daniel had to leave and he doesn't want to talk to anyone right now."

Grace seemed to think about that a lot. "When I get really mad because I'm sad I say I don't want to be around people but I do." She reasoned out.

"I know, sweetie, but I can't make him realize that He has to figure it out on his own." She told her daughter.

So that was the problem, Marge thought. Jack was balling up on his pain instead of relying on the people who love him to let him grieve with them. "I'm sure your Uncle Jack will be himself again soon when he realizes he misses you and your mom."

Sam sighed. She had her doubts. He'd been so angry towards her. Not with her but in general and had pushed her away even though she desperately needed his support and love right now. She was starting to see why Sara had left him if this is how he'd been after Charlie. Jack didn't process emotional pain well. She wondered what had happened in his childhood that made him that way. He didn't talk much about his family and from the way he talked, everyone he'd been close with had already passed. Had he stood accepting his Masters' diploma to empty chairs where his parents should have been? Jack seemed to have two reactions to death: resigned like he had been to Kowalski, or if it was family, anger like he'd been cheated by that person's death.

Sam's heart ached for her own loss but it ached as much for Jack's.

"Why don't you go on to bed sweetheart." Sam told her daughter.

Grace gave her an askance look. Her mom usually called her kiddo. She only called her sweetheart when something bad had happened. Like that time Uncle Jack had been missing. Grace had been little and didn't remember much more than the worry in her mom's voice when she called in the morning before she got to work trying to rescue Uncle Jack and mom calling her sweetheart. "Can I read?"

"Yah." Sam said without bothering to tell her only for an hour. Grace could tell time, even on an analog clock. A factor she was very proud of, as most of her friends couldn't do that yet. Grace could do a lot of things her friends couldn't do. She could count to over a hundred, she could multiply and divide and convert fractions. That last one might be because Auntie Marge likes to sew and showed her how to calculate fabric and was starting to show her how she used something she called 'trig' to redesign patterns if she didn't like what she had already and couldn't find what she wanted.

She watched her mom as she walked to her room. Something bad had happened to Uncle Danny. Why wasn't Uncle Jack here? How come it was okay for him to come over if he got shot by a bad guy or fell into an ice cold lake and couldn't get warm but was too good to comfort her mom when she was sad.

Grace realized for the very first time she was angry at her beloved and arguably favorite uncle and she felt she needed to have words with him about that.

She picked up the doll he'd gotten her and had its hair redone to look like his before it had gone grey he'd told her and sat it on the bed. "You aren't being very nice to my mommy." She admonished her Uncle Jack doll who was dressed in a tiny SGC uniform.

Back in the living room Sam had at least picked up her tea and was sipping it.

"I'll stay here tonight." Marge told her.

Sam nodded sadly. She really could use the company.

They didn't talk after that. Marge was certain whatever had happened was something Sam couldn't discuss outside of work and the person she needed to talk to about it was hurting too much himself to be able to comfort Sam. Marge wished he'd realize they could comfort each other but she wondered if that was part of the problem. That the kind of comfort they needed from each other was effectively forbidden even if they didn't assign any emotional attachment to the action. She'd bet her last buck that if it wasn't for the regs Jack would have asked Sam to marry him long ago. He loved his daughter, he adored Sam. She'd told her that if their current command structure changed they had agreed to take a chance on each other but had warned Marge that might not be for several more years and that she didn't expect Jack to wait for her.

Marge expected it though. If either of them was going to crack, Marge knew it would be Sam who, she noted, had dozed off.

Marge pulled the afghan over Sam and went to bed. She chuckled at the contents of the guest room top drawer. It was supposed to be for all the guys but the pajama pants in here had cartoons on them. The drawer below was hers and she retrieved one of her nightgowns and changed quickly.