Author's Note: I want to apologize in advance for switching gears – telling the story in Jack's point of view for the main story, to Mrs. Garrett's and back to Jack's again in the Epilogue. I hope it doesn't cause too much confusion.

The Gift – Mrs. Garrett's point of view

The air is sweet and my garden is flourishing, Spring is finally here. I love this time of year when everything seems new, fresh and alive. I look out my window and my gaze goes directly to the tree we planted last Fall to memorialize my son, Sean, who was murdered when a few boys he went to school with "went postal," as Sean's friend, Jack, puts it.

I always have to smile when I think of Jack. He came into our lives a few years ago and my heart went out to him when I found out that he had been orphaned when his parents had died in a terrible accident, leaving him to face the world alone at the tender age of 16. He fought for, and won, the legal status of emancipated minor before moving to Colorado Springs to settle down. He and Sean met on Jack's first day at school and Sean brought him home, as that is what all my children do. My home has become Grand Central Station for neighborhood kids; several of them were coming or going all the time. I admit I am happy about it. I love children, the more that come to my house, the merrier.

Jack looked so lost and alone when he came home from school with Sean. He was aloof and took great pains in thinking about his words before speaking, causing me to think he was hiding something. Yet, I could tell that he needed someone to help him conquer the loneliness he was going through and I was determined that I would be the one to help him open up to others.

I look at the package in my hands. It's a book that I had made to give to Jack as a graduation gift. He was the one who encouraged me to write it. It was a tool to win my battle over the grief I experienced when my son died. I can still remember the night Jack gave the journal to me.

It had been three days after Sean's funeral. Jack came into the house while we were all at the dinner table, picking at our food. It was the first time he had been over since the funeral and I had missed him terribly.

We all stared at him in shock as he sat down at his place and said, "Am I still welcome here?"

What was he thinking? Of course he was welcome here. In fact, I was planning to go hunt him down the next day. "What kept you away?" was what I ended up saying to him.

"I was worried you'd both kick me out on my butt," he replied, with a half grin. "I brought you something, though… I hope you don't mind." He then proceeded to reach down into the bag he had brought in with him and pulled out four small packages. I still remember the smile that came to my face as I saw his attempts at wrapping the packages. It's the thought that counts, I had to remind myself to keep from laughing.

"You don't have to buy your way back into our family," Colin told Jack. Have I mentioned that I dearly love my husband? "You will always be welcome here," he added.

"Actually, this is more of a gift to help you deal with your grief. Open it," he insisted.

We unwrapped the packages to find a blank journal in each of them. I couldn't hide the confusion I felt when I looked up at Jack. He stared back at me, seemingly trying to tell me something, but I just couldn't figure out what it was.

"When I first came here," he continued, "one of the counselors took me into her office and gave me one of those books. She told me that it may help me understand my grief and my feelings if I wrote to my parents, telling them about my day or whatever I wanted to tell them. I have to tell you that I was thinking she belonged in a funny farm somewhere, but later on I realized what she was telling me, and she was right. You can't keep your thoughts and feelings about Sean's death to yourselves, you have to let them go. Talk to each other about your anger and your grief, vent and cry and let go of the hatred and the guilt. Don't keep it to yourselves, you will only end up destroying yourselves or your relationships. Believe me, I know." With that, he sat back to wait for our reactions.

Colin's reaction wasn't quite what I'd expected. He laid his book down on the table, turned his attention to Jack and promptly started in on him. "Just what do you think you are doing?" he said, as his eyes showed his anger. "Who do you think you are coming in here and telling me how to cope? My son's dead. My son! You have no idea what that's like. To watch him grow, teach him how to ride a bike and to play basketball, only to have him snatched away on the whim of an idiot."

I don't know why I was surprised at Jack's expression. He looked like he had been hit with a sledge hammer, as he stared at the table, and I could swear he was fighting back tears. "Write that down in your book," Jack said, as his voice caught.

Colin on the other hand, looked as if he had committed a major crime. I was on the verge of getting up and hitting him myself when he spoke up, "Jack, oh God, Jack. I'm sorry. I know you've been through this before with your parents and your cousin, but… Jack, I'm sorry."

Jack pulled himself together and looked at Colin. "It's good you're getting this out. Talk about it, write about it or tell the dog about it, but get it out in the open."

"Tell the dog about it?" Kelly, my youngest daughter, asked as she giggled. My other daughter, Deidre, grinned at her sister then gave into her own giggles. Jack grinned at them both while shrugging his shoulders before turning to me. "What would you write about if you put that gift to use?" he asked me.

Nothing like putting me on the spot, I thought, as I struggled to find something to tell him. "Well, I don't know. I guess I could write about my … um… about missing him.."

"Are you angry with him?" he asked me as he stared deep into my eyes. I was shocked at first, wondering how he knew, only to remember that he had been through this before. "Tell him why you are mad at him," he said quietly.

I couldn't respond, I just looked at the book, already thinking of things I would put in it. I looked up at the boy we had taken into our hearts, and realized that we were all going to be okay. If Jack could survive the tragedies in his life, so could we.

The subject of my thoughts pops his head into the room, bringing me back to the present. "Hey Mrs. G," he says as he smiles at me. "I'm ready for my inspection, ma'am."

I laugh at him, knowing this is his way of teasing me about my insistence on mothering him. It's just something I like to do and I do it well. Jack, however, hated it at first, telling me that he didn't need me mothering him, he was doing quite well with his life. He finally gave in and let me have my way as we slowly became friends.

"I'll be there soon, Jack," I tell him, then I can't help but tease him as I add, "Did you wash behind your ears?"

I love it when he smiles at me like that. His whole face lights up. I'm going to miss him when he leaves to join the Air Force. He will be in the same city, attending the Air Force Academy on the other side of town, but I know that I won't see him as often as I am used to. I give him a smile as he turns and walks out the door.

He didn't stay away after Sean's death. In fact, he still came to dinner every night, telling me he went through withdrawals if he so much as missed one meal. He and Mike, Sean's other best friend, still came here after school to hang out, do their homework, play basketball or tease Sean's sisters unmercifully. It was comforting to have them here, to remind me of Sean and the way he used to laugh and joke with his friends.

I look back out the window toward the garden, wondering what I would have done without Jack and my family. Colin has been great, as I knew he would be. We spend a lot of time talking about Sean, remembering the good times, laughing at some memories and crying over others. We read each other's journals, with mine having a lot more entries than Colin's. We've survived this.

A smile comes to my lips as I see Kelly walking through the garden, looking for some flowers to pick. She takes after me when it comes to gardening. She loves being out there with me as we weed and dig and scratch around in the dirt, bringing the plants to life. Sean and Deidre always ran the other way when they saw me in my straw hat and holding my trowel. Not Kelly, though. She's off to look for her own hat.

I watch as she looks toward the house then laugh at something she has seen or heard. I know it's Jack that brought on that laughter. He and Kelly are close, almost as close as he was to Sean. Jack loves children, as Kelly's friends always want to hang out with him, and Kelly is no exception. She spends as much time with him as she can.

Then there are Deidre's friends. Brittany in particular chased after Jack shamelessly, practically throwing herself on him every chance she got. I tried to tell her that some men prefer to do the chasing and run the other way at full speed if they are the ones being chased, but she had to find out the hard way. She finally gave up, much to Jack's relief, a few months after Sean's death. Jack had been seeing a young woman who lived in his apartment building and Brittany decided that Mike was a better catch anyway.

I glance at the clock knowing that it will soon be time to leave for the ceremony. Jack is graduating from high school and the school is planning to honor Sean's memory during the ceremony, as he would have been a part of the graduating class had he lived. The grief this thought brings about flows through me and I close my eyes to keep the tears at bay.

My eyes pop open as I hear Mike's voice booming throughout the house as he yells for Jack. I've told him a thousand times that he doesn't have to yell like a madman, but he never listens to me. I can't stay mad at him for long, though. Jack had been a great influence on Sean and Mike, and Mike even picked up on the charm that Jack just seems to ooze when he is around me.

Jack is a charmer alright, but he is also filled with his own insecurities and issues that he refuses to talk about. He is such a private person. To this day, I still don't know a whole lot about his past. I've learned to accept him as he is, to pick up on the little bits and pieces he throws at me and try to understand what goes on in his mind to the best of my ability. I'm not sure why it's important to me that I learn everything I can about this mystery named Jack, but it is and I try to learn as much as I can without him knowing it.

I remember a nightmare he had while he was staying the night not long after he first started to come around. It scared Colin and I half to death when he started yelling in the middle of the night. I ran into the room where the boys were sleeping to find Sean and Mike sitting up in their sleeping bags, eyes wide and staring at Jack, who had crawled to a corner, curled up into a ball and was shaking for all that he was worth.

I went to him slowly, calling to him as softly as I could to get his attention. Something told me not to grab him, but I did reach out to gently touch his arm. He flinched and looked up at me with a look that broke my heart. I sat down next to him and pulled him into my arms, hugging him and murmuring softly to him, telling him everything was going to be all right. He hugged me back tightly, and I rubbed his back talking to him, calming him until he finally pulled away. "Sorry about that," he said awkwardly, "didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's okay, Jack. Don't worry about it. Do you want to talk about your dream?"

'Not really," he said, as he looked away. "I don't remember any of it."

"You said something about Iraqis," Mike told him, trying to be helpful.

It probably wasn't the best thing to say at that moment, as Jack shut his eyes tight and clenched his fists. He took a moment to calm himself, then looked at me as if nothing had happened. His expression showed nothing as to what he was thinking, he just smiled at me and gave me a hug before saying, "Thank you, Mrs. G. I'm glad you were here. I don't often get the chance to hug a beautiful woman when I have a bad dream."

Did I mention his charm?

Jack is a mystery alright. I've resigned myself to possibly never knowing who he really is. This is something I can live with, though.

"Karen?" I hear my husband calling me and I look toward the door expecting to see his face when he opens it. "It's almost time to go, honey. You ready?"

"Yes," I tell him as I hold up the package. "Do you think he'll like it?" I ask for what seems like the fortieth time.

"He'll love it," Colin tells me again. "Go give it to him already so we can get going," he says as he pulls me up off of my chair and pushes me toward the door. "Go on."

I smile at him as I leave to go off in search of my foster son. It's good that Jack has finally resigned himself to the fact that I think of him as my son. He is so independent, still insisting that he can take care of himself, that he doesn't need a mother figure. I know this, but he is firmly wedged in my heart and I can't help but love him as a son.

I finally find him in the kitchen with the 'gang'. They are all there, Mike, Kelly, Brittany, Claire, Deidre, Jack and Trisha, Kelly's best friend. I catch the tail end of a joke Deidre is telling and they all laugh at the punch line. It doesn't make any sense to me though, as I had missed the first part of the joke, but I still have to smile as Jack winks at me when he catches my eye.

"Jack, can we talk before we leave?" I ask him. He gives me a look that tells me he is just a little worried about what I will say, but still he nods and says, "Sure, let's go find someplace quiet, shall we?"

I lead the way out the back door and walk over to Sean's tree. The breeze picks up as we sit down on the lounge chairs set up next to it and I look over to see him staring at me expectantly.

I'm suddenly at a loss for words. He is so handsome, his young face a contradiction to the old man looking at me though his eyes. He has been through so much, his soul hardened by tragedies, and he acts so much wiser and more mature than his 18 years. I find the strength somehow to hand him the gift, knowing that I will lose him in a few weeks time when he goes off to join the Air Force. "I wanted to give this to you," I tell him softly, as I try to hold back my tears.

"What is it?" he asks, his eyes staring into mine, trying to determine the real reason for this talk.

"Open it," I urge as I hand the gift to him. He takes it and gives me a half grin as he unwraps the package. The grin disappears when he sees what the package holds. He turns the book over in hopes of finding a clue as to what it is.

"It's my journal," I tell him softly. He looks at me then, really looks at me, his eyes widening as he realizes the importance of my gift. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again, as he looks back down at the book.

"Your journal?" he finally asks, holding the book as if he were afraid he'd break it.

I reach over and put my hand on his, "Well actually, it's a copy. I have the original."

"A copy," he says, chuckling slightly. He looks up at me then and he is grinning at me again. At that moment, I can see why Brittany chased him all over Colorado Springs.

"I wanted you to know that the gift you gave me that night really helped. There was more to it than just the book, you had a major influence on helping Colin and I work through our grief, and I just wanted to give you something to let you know that we will always be your family, Jack. Always."

The grin is gone as he stares at me, wearing his emotions 'on his sleeve'. This is so unlike Jack that I am a little overwhelmed by it. I reach over and put my hand to his cheek, staring at the look of fierce loyalty in his eyes. We stare at each other for a few moments, before he reaches over and pulls me into a hug, holding me tightly. "You and your family have helped me more than you will ever know," he tells me as he hugs me even tighter. Letting me go, he looks down at the book in his hands. "I will keep this with me forever," he says with feeling and I know in my heart that he is telling me the truth.

The Journal – Jack Gallagher's point of view

The ceremony is going well. Sean's memorial has the whole auditorium in tears. I try to concentrate as the eulogies are given and the memories of others are exchanged, but I find myself lost in my own memories of overhearing a conspiracy just a few days before my best friend's death. I then have to concentrate on not letting my regrets pour over me. Regrets have been known to destroy me on occasion, so here I am, standing next to the Garretts trying to listen to the others talk, while fighting my own demons. My inner turmoil eases somewhat when Kelly grabs my hand and laces her small fingers through mine, giving me a sad smile when I look at her. I smile back at her and she rests her head on my arm as we continued to listen to the others, or in my case, pretend to listen to the others.

The memorial portion of the ceremony is over and I go over to join my classmates so that I can collect another diploma. I'm probably the only person in history who has two high school diplomas, but it's a necessary evil that I dealt with in order to regain my life. I am determined to earn my way back to Stargate Command, to the life I left behind.

We walk out of the auditorium into the bright sunshine. I don't know why, but I look back at the building that represents my 'teenage' years, a hurdle that I had to conquer in my quest to regain my former life. On the heels of that thought comes another thought that my English Lit teacher would have been so proud had she heard that. After she got over the shock, that is.

We all pile into the car to head over to Mike's house for his graduation party. I feel like the 18 year old that I look like when Mike and I swipe a few beers from his father's cooler and go to find someplace where we could drink it without getting into too much trouble. I can't help but think that it's a sad day when a 50 year old has to sneak a beer, but then my life hasn't always been happy. Oh great, here come those regrets again.

I'm glad when Deidre finds our hiding place and grabs the bottle out of my hand so that she can have some. I don't quite know who she thinks she is, but that's my beer she is guzzling and I grab it back a little forcibly, causing some beer to dribble down her chin. She laughs at me, then informs me that she will tell her mother if I don't let her have another drink. I will admit that she had me there for a minute, but then I come to my senses and inform her that I would have no qualms in telling on her. I have learned over the last few years that acting like a kid when I am around kids can be used to my advantage.

The party lasts into the evening and I enjoy myself, spending time with friends and family, knowing that I will soon be leaving them when I report for duty. I take some comfort in knowing that I won't be leaving them behind, as Mrs. G has made me promise that I will come to see her when I can get away from 'that place', as she calls it. Since the Academy is in the same city, I am positive that I can keep that promise; that is if I can stay out of trouble. Okay, so I may have to work a little harder at staying out of trouble, but Mrs. G's cooking should be a good incentive for me.

I hold onto that thought as I make my way home to my apartment. I head straight for my bedroom, taking the journal out of my pocket as I walk into the room. I throw the book on the bedside table, then sit down on the bed to take my shoes off. I look up to see my face in the dresser mirror - the younger version of my face. As I often do at times like this, I wonder what the older version of my face is doing right now. Is he off world? Is he in the process of bringing down an evil Goa'uld System Lord? Does he even think about me? I know the answer to the last question. He wouldn't think of me anymore than I thought about the 'robot O'Neill' when we left him on that planet to keep it going for eons. It was easier to just forget about him.

I know that the reason I dwell on my older counterpart is because I feel cheated, perhaps even a little envious that he is living my life, a life that I had finally felt comfortable with. I had to leave everything behind, including my friends, and that was the hardest. He is living that life, while I do everything all over again just to get back to the same place he is at right now. I grimace as I try to fight off the anger that is building in me, as it always does whenever I think of the injustice of it all.

I have new friends now, though, and I smile as I think about Mrs. G, my surrogate mother. She can be such a pain sometimes, but I have grown to love her as a friend, and I am able to forgive her for mothering me, a 50 year old Colonel. The fact that I am in an 18 year old body is just a technicality.

I pick up the book that I was given earlier today. A copy, she had said. The irony of it all is not lost on me, and I find myself smiling at the memory of her words.

I decide to wait until I am in bed before I read it, knowing full well that I am just stalling. I'm not sure I want to read through her grief stricken words, knowing that I would be reliving my own grief. I get up to dress for bed and brush my teeth before I finally work up the nerve to read it. I prop myself up on some pillows and open the book to the first page. The words are typed in neat little lines making it easier to read, I'm sure.

"Dear Sean, Jack gave me this journal telling me that I should write down my feelings and grief in an effort to get them out in the open. I'm not sure if this will work, but I'm willing to give anything a try if it will get rid of this awful weight in my chest. I want you back, Sean. Back here in my arms, laughing at me when I am scolding one of your friends, hugging me when I get frustrated with my sewing machine, or just smiling patiently at me when I start scolding you.

I need you here with me, to tell me it was all a dream, that those boys didn't snatch you away from me. Why did you have to go out and try to stop them, to try to help Jack? Why?? Why didn't I stop you from going out there? Oh God Sean, you would still be here with me if you hadn't taken it upon yourself to be a hero."

I stop reading at this point, my heart twisting as I remember my own anger at him, at myself. Grief has a funny way of turning things around, causing us to hate the very people we lose and want back more than life itself.

The words are a little blurry as I try to continue to read. I blink the tears from my eyes, scrubbing hard at them with my fist, then try again.

"I know deep down it's not your fault that you've been taken away from me, but I can't help it. You are my son, my eldest child. I remember when you were born. Your father couldn't be prouder. I couldn't be happier. We had a child, a beautiful son who would one day grow up to be a lawyer, or a doctor, or whatever he wanted to be. We could never have known that you would one day be snatched from our lives.

The pain in my heart weighs heavily on me, Sean. I have your father here to help me, as well as your sisters and Jack. I have come to love Jack as a son, Sean, although I think you knew this. I think he has decided that he is going to help us with our loss. Lord knows he's had his own share of loss throughout his young life. I realized his mission after he left for home tonight. He had come to dinner, giving us each a journal along with instructions on what to put in it. After dinner he stayed and played cards with your sisters, laughing and joking with them, forcing them to remember the funny things you had done in your life. I found myself laughing along with them when Deidre told him about the time you were chasing that pig on your Uncle Tim's farm, only to have the pig end up chasing you around."

This memory has me laughing and I have to put the book down as I lay there grinning at the ceiling. Deidre had reenacted the entire scene, waving her arms in the air mimicking Sean's flight as he chased the pig, then as he was being chased.

I finally go back to the book, reading all the way through it. Mrs. G had written in the journal throughout the months following Sean's death. She talked about her anger, her fears, her love for her family and for me. She wrote about her accomplishments and her dreams and goals for her children and for herself. I had a hard time reading the parts where she wrote about how I was her savior for helping her through her grief. I am always uncomfortable when people think I am so great, it makes me feel like such a fraud, because they don't know the real me. They don't know about the more horrible things I have done in my life while following orders. And Mrs. G will never know about those things, if I have anything to do with it. I'm not sure I could bear the thought of her disgust or her hating me if she knew. I have come to rely on her friendship and her love.

I reach over and pull open the drawer of the nightstand next to my bed, pulling out the cigar box I keep in there to hold all my most precious belongings. I have had one of these for as long as I can remember, keeping it in my locker or my duffel bag. My 'other' box held pictures of Charlie, Sara and old squadron buddies, along with assorted other mementos collected over a lifetime, including a few medals I had won. This box is empty save for a picture of the 'gang,' as Mrs. G likes to call her children and their friends. It had been taken a few months before Sean died and I know that I will cherish that picture for a long time. I look at the picture one last time before putting it back in the box, then placing the journal in with it. I'm glad to find that it fits, if just barely. I think Mrs. G knew it would have to be small for me to take it with me.

I close my eyes as I lay back on my bed. I now know why she gave me the journal. It was the best way to tell me of her feelings for me. She is my friend, as close to me as Sam, Daniel and Teal'c had been, and I know that she will always be a part of my family, just as they had been. I smile as I realize that I hadn't given up everything when I was forced to leave my old life behind, I still have my memories. And I am comforted by the thought that I have something O'Neill doesn't – a new family.