Sitting at the end of the dock with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, he stares at everything… and at nothing.
I took him out there this morning and I'll bring him in when evening falls.
Before the war, I would have been able to get him help. Before the war, he wasn't this way.
Washington was hit from orbit. For two weeks I thought he was dead… and then he turned up at the SGC with the President in tow. I still don't know how they got out. Even if he starts talking again, I doubt I ever will. He took command, sending all non-essential personnel off world… me included and there was nothing I could do. When the President gives you a direct order you have to obey, but I know it came from Jack. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever forgive him for making me leave.
Walter called us back. The world was still here, but there were so many dead. So many…
Out here, I can sometimes pretend that it didn't happen … that we weren't victims of our own arrogance. I think we'd had so many victories that we'd become complacent. Now, looking back, defeating the Goa'uld seemed ridiculously easy. We still don't know who they were, or where they came from. They weren't Goa'uld or Replicator or Ori. They're all dead now, but we'll be watching the skies. We won't make the same mistake again.
We're more inclined to rely on our own ingenuity and not on the technology we can scavenge off world. The human race has come out of this wiser, stronger...
I wish I could say the same about Jack.
Out here, it's difficult to remember that the Earth burned. The trees are still green, we can still drink the water. It was untouched by the war. That's why I brought him here. I was hoping he'd be able to forget.
When I first got back, it took me a while to realise that anything was wrong. He was there waiting for me. We took some time together … made love… and the next morning I found him with a gun against his head. Jack hasn't spoken since.
The reports say that he had to make some tough decisions. Whole cities were sacrificed in his attempts to save the human race. He won and we survived. I wonder what the people would say if they realised that their hero is so incapacitated by grief and guilt that he can hardly feed himself.
But amongst the tears, people can be happy, they still laugh and love … children are still being born and the evidence of that is cradled in my arms. It's all so new… so delicate. I'm having trouble letting her go even for a moment, but I know what I have to do.
My friends are watching as I make the short walk to the dock.
"Jack," I whisper.
He doesn't even turn his head. Carefully, I move in front of him, laying my bundle gently in his lap.
"I think she has your eyes."
She squirms a little, her little hands reaching out for his. He gives her his little finger to hold.
"I'll be inside if she needs anything."
Walking away is hard. I've never been so aware of the water close by, the hard wood of the dock… a hundred and one hazards that could hurt my daughter. Daniel, Teal'c and I go into the cabin and it's all I can do not to keep looking out of the window.
"O'Neill will be fine," Teal'c assures me.
I nod, even as a wail reaches my ears.
"Give it a few minutes," Daniel says, stopping me from running out to her.
And sure enough, moments later we hear shuffling footsteps and Jack is standing at the door. The baby is held against his chest, one of his hands supporting her fragile head.
"I think she's hungry," he croaks.
"Do you want to do it?" I ask.
Jack nods. With care, he sits down and settles his daughter in his arms. I take a bottle from the fridge and hand it to him. He's so, so careful with her that it brings tears to my eyes.
"What's her name," he asks as she starts to feed.
"I thought you could decide," I reply.
He's silent for a moment, contemplating the tiny life that's drinking so voraciously.
"Hope," he says. "We could all use a little of that."
I smile. It's a good name. Hope, our little girl. Our future.