A/N: Okay i decided to give you this one too cuz i was gone so long. here ya go.

The ride to the cabin was going to take longer than Jack wanted it to, but he felt the more they stopped, the more comfortable Sam was going to be. They'd been told she was healing enough that she could take the brace off and it was currently in the backseat of his truck, but he still wanted her to move around a little at every rest area.

They were almost there, but it was late and he knew she was tired. The silence in the cab didn't bother him. He kept his right hand covering her left, gently rubbing it with his thumb.

"Jack?" she asked softly.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?" She sounded almost scared to him, and that was something he never liked.

"Sure," he said nonchalantly, hoping it would calm her nerves.

"Um, it's just something that's been bothering me for a while now, and Sara could never answer it, but she also tried to avoid it when I asked. My family's been military for years, so I know pretty well how you guys think. It's just, well, how did Charlie get a hold of your gun? I know you know how to take care of firearms and I just can't believe that you would have been careless enough to leave it out with a young boy around." She stared at her hands, not wanting to make eye contact in case she had really made him angry.

"We're not sure," he said softly, his eyes staying on the road. He saw a sign for a rest area and pulled over. Grabbing her brace from the back seat, being careful not to wake the sleeping dog, he hopped out and ran to the other side of the truck to help her walk around a little before they were on the road again. He smiled at her as he drove, letting her know he wasn't upset with her.

"When Charlie died, we were investigated by child services, but nothing ever came of it. I had the only keys to the lock box and trigger lock on my keyring that was in my pocket at the time. The police determined that both had been jimmied open, but they had no clue how Charlie could have done it. He was eight years old!" Jack furiously ground the heel of his hand into his eye, trying to hide the tears that had welled there.

"They figured he must have tripped and landed with his finger on the trigger because we found him face down." Jack started to break down at this point, the first time he had since that fateful day. "God, Sam, he was still alive! He'd been trying to tell me something, but I never could figure out what. Something about the man without a face and how he was sorry."

Sam laid her hand on Jack's comfortingly, not knowing what to say. She figured it was a good time to stay quiet.

"He was alive three hours later when the doc came out and told us the surgery went well. He was in the recovery room and we were about to go see him, when all these alarms and stuff went off. They rushed us out of the room. Charlie was dead a half an hour later. They told us there was a bubble in the IV they hadn't caught. He looked so different, lying on that table. Like one of those dummies they use in movies." He sighed thinking of the last time he'd seen his son.

"You know, there's the possibility that if we have kids we could be investigated as well. That's part of why Sara must have been so scared before." Jack rubbed her hand back to keep himself in control.

"I understand, Jack." Sam nodded showing him she really did. The couple rode in companionable silence for a couple of miles, Rico's soft snores breaking through every now and then.

"I really appreciate this, Sam," Jack whispered squeezing her hand gently.

"What?" She looked up at him confused.

"Just everything. Being so understanding of a grumpy old man, befriending Sara when she needed it the most." He shrugged, almost like it was nothing. "Hey, listen, we're almost there, why don't you go to sleep."

A/N: I grew up in a military family and i just can't believe Jack would be so careless. i know too many military officers to believe Jack would just leave his gun anywhere Charlie could get to it, no matter how accidentally. Okay, that's all for now.