Sam got home, it had been a damn long day. But she wasn't overwhelmed physically, though there had been quite an amount of running and dangerous situation pumping adrenalin into her bloodstream. This time, it was her mind that had a lot to process. She heard of deep waters, people who hid away secrets inside them so well no one around suspected them. But she would have never thought Colonel Jack O'Neill to be such a type. Well to be fair, he hadn't been keeping it from everyone. Daniel knew and so did General Hammond, of course. But she had been totally in the blank and suspected Teal'c might have not known either. O'Neill had a wife and had been a father. He lost his son Charlie in a tragic accident as the boy shot himself with O'Neill's own gun. Despite his fate, Sam got to see Charlie today in the hospital. The crystalline shapeshifting alien took on his form. Unfortunately, the events unfolded so that O'Neills former wife was present and shocked to see Charlie. Sam couldn't fully imagine how she must've felt since she had never been a mother herself, but she was sure it must've been enormously overwhelming. She would probably need some time to cope with it. She didn't quite remember what they told her as an explanation. The adrenaline blurred her memories. Probably something about psychoactive, hallucination-inducing substances. Yeah, that surely solved it... Intellectually perhaps, but psychologically... that was a different story. She knew how much she could get affected by things that happened off-world, like hallucinations... even though they were not real, the experience of them and emotion connected to them was.

And what about Colonel O'Neill? She'd never before seen him so vulnerable, so scarred... The hurt, sadness and longing in his eyes as they beheld his long-lost child standing before him... it made herself feel sad inside. Sad for him. It had certainly changed her view of her commanding officer, but what was more it gave the person Jack O'Neill more depth and humanness. She felt a want to help her friend, yes she thought of him as a friend now, not just a colleague... He had been there for her after her emotional turmoil concerning Jason Hanson, her ex-fiancée... She needed to be there for him now. But how? It felt daunting to call him. Maybe she should just turn up at his house instead? The last time he had given her a lift and stayed at her place for a drink, he gave her his address, in case she ever needed to turn to him. She had appreciated the gesture and a drinking buddy greatly. And now was the opportunity to repay it. Maybe that was the answer. She didn't have to push him to talk about his feelings to which she wasn't sure he'd agree or she'd have any advice for... She could simply offer to be his drinking buddy for the evening and leave it up to him to decide if he wanted to talk or not.

She packed a few essentials into a small bag, put on comfy jeans and a jacket and headed out her front door. After 10 minutes she was turning down into the street where O'Neill's house stood. She stopped in front of his lawn, recognizing his van. Turning off the motor, she looked at the house. There was no light on inside. What if he had gone to bed? But then she remembered several times she had been feeling very blue, and recalled how she sat in darkness, alone... That was probably what he was doing right now. Probably with a bottle of beer in his hand. She doubted he'd turned on the Simpsons today.

She sighed and grabbed the handle of her car's door. But then her fingers wavered. Was this really the right thing to do? Did she have the right to disturb him? What if he didn't want anybody's company? What if he didn't care for her company? Did he even consider her a friend? As her own insecurities bubbled inside, making her stomach feel like a paralyzed bundle of snakes, her keen eyes spotted a light inside the house. That was what it took for her to make up her mind. She had come this for, was in front of his house, it was stupid and pointless to keep sitting inside her car. She'd go there and face whatever version of Jack O'Neill would open the door...

She got out, grabbed her bag and locked the car. She walked up to the front door, took in a breath, gathering her courage and pressed the ring button. Almost a whole minute had gone by with no answer. She was about to turn on her heel and awkwardly walk back to her car when the door opened.

O'Neill left the SGC right after the debriefing. He couldn't stand all the sympathetic looks from his colleagues. Hammond was giving him a supportive dad look, Teal'c was even more quiet than usual and he caught Carter's sad blue eyes staring at him, more than once. When he got up Daniel approached him but Jack rushed out of the room before he could say anything. On the way to the elevator, he sped up to avoid Dr. Fraiser, who was calling his name, sounding like a concerned mother. In the parking slot, he slammed the door to his van and talked himself into containing his emotions long enough to drive home.

Once at home he shut the door noisily behind him, didn't bother turning any lights on and headed straight for the beers stored in his fridge. After his second beer, he found himself wishing he had something in stronger, but he was in no shape to get out right now. Having drunk his glass empty he contemplated it, studying the reflections that even the little light from outside produced. Soon he was only pretending to study the glass, as images hazed before his eyes...of himself, of Sarah and of Charlie... He gripped the glass tight and without thinking it he threw it against the kitchen's wall. It shattered into a million pieces, much like Jack's heart upon seeing his boy seemingly resurrected, the joy, the disbelief, the sadness... he began sobbing uncontrollably as he recalled holding his son's little hand in his, guiding him out of the hospital, past Sarah... to finally take them through the Stargate and say goodbye to him, again... A tragic howl escaped his lungs. He walked past the shards into the hall and rested his back against the wall, sliding down onto the floor and into the well-known depths of darkness and despair.

A doorbell rang. He left his face in his palms. The doorbell rang again. When the doorbell rang for the third time, he began wishing the neighbours would get to their door already. Surely they must've heard it by now. The doorbell rang a fourth time, and this time it sounded nearer. Jack ran his palms through his hair and raised his face up the tiniest bit.

Riiiing

'Wait a minute.' Jack thought. Was that really the neighbors' doorbell? It sounded too close. Could, be his doorbell? How had he noticed it only now? With a grunt he got up from the floor, his legs stiff after sitting on it for god-knows how long. He went to the window that was nearest to the door and peeked through the curtains.

Daniel was standing outside his door.

"Oh for crying out loud," he cursed. That archeologist just didn't know when to quit. He went to the door and plastered the fakest smile on his face that he could muster. He swung the door open.

"Hey..." Daniel said, his voice trailing off as he saw Jack. Did he look that bad? But continued smiling that innocent toothy smile.

"Hey, Danny Boy." Jack said. "What brings you by on this fiiine day?" the sarcasm leaking from his voice.

Daniel dropped his toothy smile and his expression became more serious, yet soft. "How are you?" he asked in a quieter tone.

"Couldn't be better."

"Jack, I really think you should talk to someone."

"Like you?"

"Yes, for example?"

"Did Fraiser send you?"

"Well...yes."

O'Neill rolled his eyes.

"But I also wanted to come."

"Really?" Jack said sarcastically.

"Yes, Jack," Daniel said, somewhat impatiently, "maybe you don't realize it but, I consider you my friend."

"You know what, Daniel," Jack said, looking down at the beer bottle in his hand. "If you really wanna help me, I could use a drinking buddy, far more than a talking one...

"Ookay..." Daniel said in a tone that clearly said he wasn't sure that was the best help.

Jack was enjoying the silence as the two of them sat on the couch in the living room, sipping their beer. Finally no questions, pitying or psychological evaluations.

"Jack, I'm sorry but I really need to say this." Daniel said, putting down the bottle.

"Don't." Jack said, raising his hand.

"I understand you're hurting, after what happened today who wouldn't, but I want you to know you're not alone in this and I really think-"

"Shoo, shoo!" Jack said getting up and motioning for Daniel to get out.

"Jack please, I-" Daniel didn't have the chance to finish his sentence, as Jack had already closed the door on him. Daniel hung his head in resignation and walked off. Jack was watching him through the window, making sure he was gone. He sat back on the couch and was contemplating actually turning on the Simpsons. After a minute he reached for the TV controller and turned the box on. The episode had already begun, but Jack didn't bother trying to catch up with what was happening, even the sound and images were distracting his mind and that was what he aimed for.

The doorbell rang. Again.

Jack put a hand over his face. He couldn't believe Daniel had come back. Slowly getting up, he went to the window first to check and saw that it was a team member, but not Daniel. It was Sam. He hesitated, was his team determined to not give him peace? Had Daniel tipped her off after he failed? But after a few seconds he decided he was going to find out and headed for the door. He opened it to see Sam turning on her heel and away from his entrance.

"Carter." His voice sounded a little hoarse.

Sam turned back around and their eyes met. She saw her scan his face, her expression concerned. There was also a trace in her eyes of something else... nervousness? anxiety?

"Sir," she said, and he could hear the nervosity in her voice. Was she nervous to come to see him? "I am sorry, I didn't mean to disturb. It's just, if you need a friend I wanted to let you know I'm here for you. Like, you were for me."

He let his eyes travel over her face for a while longer. His planned welcome: 'Have you and Daniel conspired against me?' vanished almost instantly, her expression was serious and compassionate. "Sam," he spoke her name much quieter and much gentler than he usually did. "Come on in." He opened the door for her to enter. As she walked in past him he thought he detected the slightest blush on her cheeks, but maybe it was the light playing tricks.

Closing the door, Jack looked at Carter. He let his eyes roam over her face for a few seconds before remembering and asking: "Can I get you something? Water, beer, tea?"

"Depends on whether you need a drinking or talking buddy?"

"Well I already tried turning Daniel into a drinking buddy. Didn't work much." he said, looking at the almost empty bottle in his hand.

"I can drink and not talk." Sam said.

"Nah, I've had enough of this stuff." he said finally. "I'll make us both tea." he glanced at her face.

"I can do it, you shouldn't have to..." Sam jumped in.

"No, no it's okay." he said, he didn't want her to see the kitchen.

"Jack please, you've been through a lot today, at least let me help you." Sam insisted.

"Fiine, but don't look at the floor, it's-it's a mess."

In the kitchen she saw a heap of shattered glass near the wall.

"Did it fall or did you throw it?" she asked.

The dark look that Jack gave her told he that it was the latter. "Would you believe me if I told you it fell?" he asked with a darkness in his voice.

"You don't have to explain, I shouldn't have asked." she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Jack gazed at her hand and then back to her caring eyes. What did he do to deserve such a clever and beautiful creature to care about him so?