A/N This is for lennielight, whose review not only made me giggle a little, but with which I totally I agree. I hope this helps. :)
It was a few seconds after she saw him try and mask the pain he was feeling that she finally spoke.
"You were wrong, Jack." Trying to understand what she was saying while reeling from the dream he'd just so abruptly left was difficult, near impossible.
"What? What was I wrong about?" He asked while looking at her worriedly from across the bed. Trying to think through everything he'd said lately to find his error.
Her eyes were still watery but her face was stoic as she answered him, "You said I could handle this. Even this. I can't, Jack, I can't handle this."
He just looked at her after this answer, stared at her for about thirty seconds. Then, finally, he saw her façade start to crack. A tear escaped from her right eye, traveled the length of her cheek and dripped onto her stomach. He watched its path, and then looked back up at her with questioning eyes.
"I'm sorry, Jack. I tried to be strong. I tried to handle it, but I can't. My baby, our baby died!" She was screaming now, tears flooding her face. "You said I could handle it, but I can't!" She screeched at him and burrowed her face into the pillow beside her.
He suddenly realized what he had done. That day, so long ago, he had meant to reinforce her strength, their strength, to live through this tragedy. She had taken it differently. She had thought he meant for her to deal with it and move on, an easy mistake for her to make while looking at his way of handling things. He watched her cry, frozen in the realization that he had caused it; he had dug the chasm between them with his words.
After a minute he reached out to her, and pulled her to him forcefully, wrapping himself around her small form as she continued to cry. Her legs around his waist, her round stomach trapped between them, her hands around his chest, she buried herself inside the man she loved.
"I'm sorry, Jack. I'm sorry I couldn't do it. Don't be disappointed, please." She emphatically whispered into his chest, trying to stem the flow of tears.
"Oh God, Sam, no." She tried to recoil at these words but he held her fast. "No, you're not going to misunderstand me this time." Questioning blue eyes met his as he continued. "I didn't mean for you to do this alone. I'm here Sam, I have been, and everyday I have dealt with you slipping away from me. We lost our baby. Our son. No one can handle that, and no one, especially you should have to deal with it. When I said you could handle it, I meant us together would get through it. And we will, but we have to talk about it, we have to talk about him. Name him. Please Sam, we need to be able to heal, together."
He was afraid he said too much. Her head was leaning against his chest and she was still taking staggering breaths between sobs. Her hands clutched at his sides as he stared at the top of her blonde head, waiting for a response.
A whispered "Jonathan" reached his ears.
"Hmmm?" He answered, surprised at her use of his full name.
"No, Jonathan Jacob O'Neill, that was his name. We would have called him Jack Jr. We would have loved him so much."
"No, Sam, we do love him. So much, that's why it hurts."
They lay down together and held each other, both crying if they needed to, both holding onto the other for dear life. Just before drifting off to sleep he heard Sam ask a question.
"Jack, what happened to his ashes? Thor did give you something like that right?" She almost whispered the question, hope evident in her voice, that all traces of her son had not been lost.
"Yes Sam, he did. I, well, I buried them next to Charlie about two months ago."
Her quiet voice came back to him, oddly satisfied. "Good his big brother can look out for him. We'll get him a gravestone tomorrow ok?"
"Ok, Sam. I think he'd like that. I love you."
"I love you, too, Jack. I'm back."
A/N I think I've abused the toys long enough. Time for some fluff...what do you think?