Chapter 3
Charlie
Anne paled visibly, "Um, sir, Charlie is, uh,"
"Waiting for you guys to stop stalling and get to work on this whole alliance thing," came a new voice; the voice of a young man, who sounded amazingly like General O'Neill. Suddenly a figure appeared an 18 or so year old boy dressed in jeans and a hockey jersey, he looked exactly like a younger version of the General.
"Hey, Annie, these guys giving you any trouble?" his question was answered with a quick smack on the back of the head, "You know the answer to that Charlie, you've been watching the whole time." Anne caught Charlie's eyes and then nodded her head in Jack's direction, Charlie started to shake his head no butane just gave him a sterner look and he nodded his head sullenly.
Daniel watched the two teenagers in amazement. They communicated so much in silent looks; they reminded him of Jack and Sam. Even with how little they said to each other, what they had said, verbally and silently, and their actions and apparent ease with each other spoke volumes.
Charlie turned to Jack, "Hey Dad. Uh, I guess I'm, well, uh, it's good to see you."
"Charlie? It can't be you, you're dead, gone. It can't be you, can it?" Jack was sitting now, upon seeing Charlie he had practically fallen into his chair. Hearing his disembodied voice had made Jack's knees go weak, something that usually only happened when Carter gave him one of her special 1000 watt smiles.
"It's me. And I'm well; I am dead, sort of, actually I'm Ascended. I'm sorry I hurt you Dad. It's wasn't your fault, it never was, I was the one to blame, I knew it was against the rules, and I was the one who unlocked the drawer, you didn't leave it unlocked. I'm so sorry you had to go through all that, but they said that you had too. They said that it had to happen like it did because something big and important was supposed to happen to you and for that to happen I couldn't be there. I'm sorry Daddy." Charlie had fallen to his knees in front of his father and was looking up at him, begging forgiveness. As he rambled on, his speech disintegrated to that of the nine year old child he had never stopped being to his father.