14?
Months later, Sam woke up promptly at six and smiled at the moon that was still visible through her window. He shone down on her, giving her enough light to read by. He knew what she had planned for the quiet hours of the morning. She reached out to her nightstand and picked up the baby books she had laid out the night before. She'd wanted to look through the first year each babies' life before she really soaked in that they were a year old today.
So she opened Jonathan's book first, as he was the oldest, and smiled at the feet and handprints that greeted her. As she flipped through the pages she was flooded with memories. She had placed pictures throughout the book and as Sam looked at them she couldn't help but feel pride in him. He looked so much like Jack. With Jack's deep brown eyes and his wry smile, there was no doubt that he was Jack's son.
While flipping through J.D.'s book Sam also felt pride in him. He looked more like her, with blue eyes and a big smile. J.D.'s pictures were much the same as Jonathan's. Him being held by the adults closest to family. His and Jonathan's professional pictures. There were a few more of Daniel and J.D. then there were of Jonathan and J.D., but that was understandable. Daniel had always felt a drawing to J.D.
Sam looked at the clock. It was already seven. She closed the books and then placed them back on her nightstand. She wanted to go through them again at the end of the night. But right now, she had so much to do. She got out of bed and showered before waking Daniel up. They had guests coming at noon and the boys needed to get baths and dressed. Sam wanted everything done by eleven, in case anyone showed up early, which was likely with her friends.
…
Jack had been in prison for several months now. He wasn't quite sure of how long, as he'd been knocked unconscious for an unknown amount of time. But it sure as hell was too long. He slumped against the hard, cold floor of his cell and stared at the wall. It had become routine for him. Wake up, sit up, stare at wall, scowl at the "food" he was brought, eat "food" quickly to avoid having to taste it, stare at wall, sleep. Some people say that having a routine was comforting. They were wrong. This was the farthest from comfort than he'd ever been.
"What'll we think about today Jack?" He asked himself. There were no other prisoner's, and the man who brought him his food was blind, deaf, and mute. Jack had seen no one else since he'd woken up in the cell. There was no window for him to look out of either. No other life but himself and the food deliverer. He didn't even know when it was morning or night. He just assumed that due to fifty some odd years of waking up in the morning, his body would still do that. But he couldn't tell. He really didn't care. He just counted it another day every time he woke up.
You'd think a cell with no window would be dark all the time, but no, not his. He figured they were watching him constantly, as he had a bright light hanging above him that never went out. If every time he woke up was a day, then he'd been in the prison for no less then 81 days. Jack wondered if he could convince his prisoners to give him the technology they had for light bulbs. If he could walk through the gate with a light that could stay on for that many hours he'd be a millionaire. And then he could buy Sam a fancy house.
Sam.
God he missed her. He wondered about her a lot. Surely by now they had marked him off as dead. How did she cope with the reality that her husband was not coming back? Had she moved on? How did the birth of their baby go? Did she have a boy or a girl? Who was helping her with the child? What did she name it? This was also part of his routine. Agonize about how he'd let Sam down. How he'd let his child down. How he'd let everyone he knew down, including Daniel and Teal'c.
Were they alive? Had they actually survived? Did Daniel escape through the Stargate and live to tell about what happened with Fyger? How had Teal'c escaped?
"Stop it!" Jack yelled. He was crying now. It was routine. He'd make himself so upset about all the unanswered questions that he had to release the tension somehow. This torture was far worse then anything they could do to him. And they knew that. "I can't do this any longer! I won't!" Jack shouted, as he did everyday. But he knew that he would. Because the thought of leaving Sam and the baby forever was worse then all the questions. If he was alive, then he still had a chance to get to her, however small it was.
A/N Guys, let me address this one question everyone's been asking. No, J.D. did not call Daniel his dad. "Da" like, "Da"niel. Thanks for the reviews! They make my day! Y'all are great!