Chapter Twenty-Two - Jack

Jack was a little surprised when the security guards at the front gate waved him through the White House security. He'd tossed and turned in the accommodations he'd been given at Andrews before he checked out a car and went for a drive.

A drive that ended up back here.

Damn.

He'd been trying to put the blonde president out of his mind, but it seemed to be an impossible task. Not knowing that in some other timeline, some other life, they'd been married. Had kids.

He played with the wedding ring still on his hand as various White House employees and secret service agents ushered him back into the Oval Office.

President Carter folded her arms across her middle, her brow furrowed in worry as she looked out the picture window at the rose garden. Her hair was clipped up and away from her neck, perfectly presentable and yet without the same pomp and circumstance he would have expected from someone in her position.

She took a moment to turn and face him. "Colonel. What brings you to the White House at six in the morning?"

He tapped his thigh, more than a little unsure that he'd done the right thing. "What are you doing in the Oval Office dressed for the day at six in the morning?"

She chuckled under her breath. "Some might say you're being insubordinate just asking that question, Colonel."

"Others would say it's classified and explain why your people let me in here," Jack quipped with a shrug. "I can do this all day."

The amusement fell from her face. "I'm sure you can, Colonel. I had my people bring you in here because I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?"

She motioned to one of her drawers. "The note. It was timely and appreciated."

He shifted. He hadn't planned on leaving the note. He'd grabbed his hat, and then he'd thought about the way she'd looked at him when he'd gotten after Jacob for his insolence. That had brought a reminder of the look on her face when he'd suggested that Washington had only offered her this place because they wanted her husband's expertise.

It had made him cringe to think about after a day of watching her in action. There was no doubt in his mind who was actually in control of this White House... And it wasn't Joseph Faxon.

"Oh, that. That's just what I say to all the women I've apparently had kids with in another life."

A faint smile played on her lips, though her blue eyes seemed to drift away in thought. "Do you have a family, Colonel?"

There was that moment, that breath that always seemed to drag on longer than it should, whenever someone asked that question. "I did. Once."

Her analytical gaze dropped to his wedding ring, and he raised it in surrender. "Uh, she died. Kid, too."

Compassion softened her expression as she looked at the floor. "I'm sorry."

He waved to her desk as he walked toward one of her sofas. "You don't have a file on me in your fancy desk?"

She came around the desk and sat on the sofa across from him. "Not in my desk, but yes, I read your file. Or part of it, at least."

"Didn't get to the part about the wife and kid, did you?"

She crossed one of her long legs over the other. "More like I skipped over it. I didn't think there was anything in there that would be relevant to our topics of discussion. If I was wrong—"

"You weren't wrong." Even he could see that he'd answered a little too quickly, but the president seemed to just let it slide. "What about your dearly beloved First Gentleman? Did he raise an eyebrow when he found out your kids were in the White House?"

Her face lined almost before his eyes. "Can we not talk about that?"

All was not right in the state of Denmark... Even he could see that. Still, he raised his hands in submission. "Whatever you say. You're the president."

She sighed. "I didn't want to be, you know."

"What? President?"

She nodded. "That was always Joe's ambition. I really just wanted to write my papers, but I had several government agencies offering me a job about the time I graduated with my Master's degree."

"Which one did you pick?"

She shrugged. "None of them. Joe got his first post in Afghanistan, and that was that. I got a job with an international aid organization, and the rest, as they say, is history."

She stood and walked toward the desk. "I'm hungry. Are you hungry?"

Jack studied her, wondering why she'd had such an abrupt change of topic. "I could eat."

She picked up the phone and dialed. "Anything in particular you're in the mood for?"

"I'm always in the mood for Froot Loops."

Amusement danced in her eyes. "Froot Loops? What? Are you five?"

He grinned. "You say that like it's an insult."

She rolled her eyes as she put in a request for breakfast: an egg white, spinach, and turkey bacon breakfast sandwich and a bowl of Froot Loops. "When you ignore the recommendations of the American Heart Association, it is."

Jack just laughed. "I say, life's too short to sweat the small stuff. You wanna eat a bowl of Froot Loops, you should be allowed."

Her eyes twinkled like sapphires as the sky lightened in the window behind her desk. "You may have something there."

There was a knock on the door before it opened. The president's smile fell from her face, and she stiffened. "Joe."

Jack stood himself. It was stupid since he hadn't done anything wrong, but he had the distinct impression that the First Gentleman had drawn the wrong conclusion about what they'd been doing. "Mr. Faxon, sir. Colonel Jack O'Neill. Retired. Pleasure to meet you."

The former ambassador scowled at him. "If you'll excuse us, Colonel. I was hoping to speak to my wife about a private matter."

Jack brought his eyes up to meet the president's. She nodded discreetly.

Jack eyed the First Gentleman a second time before he slipped out of the room. He wasn't sure if it was how he'd lost Sara or if it was that nagging reminder in the back of his mind that in another life Samantha Carter had been his to protect, but he wanted to make doubly sure the former ambassador was aware of just how lucky he was to have a wife to argue with.

Too bad the man didn't do more than glare at his wife as Jack slipped out of the room.

It was almost an hour later before the president opened the door again and waved him back inside. The tension in the corners of her eyes indicated that the fight had been intense. "I just heard from the gate that Dr. Jackson and our four visitors will be joining us soon."

Jack put a hand on her arm. "You okay?"

President Carter let her blue eyes look down at where he touched her arm, and he pulled away reluctantly. When she looked back at him, she didn't try as hard to hide how she really felt. "I've been better."

"Trouble with the First Gentleman?"

She pressed a long finger to her temple. "Let's just say you hit the nail on the head when you suggested that this hasn't been a great couple days for my marriage."

"I'm sorry."

She mustered a grateful smile. "Me, too."

They fell into silence as she crossed her arms, a serious expression on her face as she studied him. "What do you think we should do about this timeline issue?"

He gave her an easy smile. "I'm just a military man, Madam President. Most of what everyone's said in this room went right over my head."

"I don't believe that."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Amusement played on her thin lips. "You one told me you were smarter than you looked. I told you I agreed with you. That wasn't a commentary on your appearance."

He snickered. "Would have been okay if it had."

She didn't respond, just waited for his assessment. Talk about pressure.

Jack sighed as he pondered the events of the last few days. "It's a big ask."

"Asking the kids to stay or them asking us to intervene?"

"Both, if I'm honest." Jack sat on the arm of the couch so he could face the president. "Look, if I had that kid's time machine, I'd be lying if I didn't have a few days I'd want to go back and change. Starting with the days my wife and kid died."

Her gaze dusted the floor almost in sympathy.

Something about the show of respect made him feel a little less alone in his loss.

"But—"

Her head lifted again as she met his eye, an interested eyebrow lifted. "But?"

He clasped his hands in front him. "But I don't think I could take it again if I went back to those days, and what I tried didn't actually fix anything. Didn't stop the school violence that took my daughter. Didn't stop my wife from taking her life a year later."

The way she crossed her arms looked almost like she was cradling herself. He wondered what loss she'd experienced. It was older than whatever issues she was going through with her marriage if that self-soothing action was an indication. Maybe from her childhood.

She took a long, deep breath before she leaned her palms against the desk and dropped her head in thought. "I can understand that."

Jack debated a few seconds whether he should say anything about his observations or not. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was being impertinent.

Again.

Her features softened as she caught his expression. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

The tiny smile she tried to hide. "I don't believe that."

He shifted. "Okay, you asked for it. Who'd you lose?"

She tensed. "Excuse me?"

"I've carried my loss for a long time, Carter. I can read it on other people's faces." She didn't respond to him relaxing the formality between them, and he wasn't sure if she'd noticed or if it just didn't bother her.

She didn't seem to want to answer, but she bit the inside of her lip. "I don't think you can really get to be older than fifty without some kind of loss, Jack."

"Maybe not, but it's not always the kind of loss that breaks you."

"That's true." There was a charged moment before she spoke again. "My family fell apart after my mom died. I haven't seen my brother in almost twenty years. I could hardly look at my dad after she died because instead of retiring like he'd promised for decades, he took a promotion and commanded a battalion in the middle east. While he was gone, my mom had a heart attack. Living alone, she didn't get the immediate assistance she might have gotten if he'd been right beside her. Maybe it's irrational, but until I met these kids, I didn't really have any plans on getting in touch with my dad again because I blamed him for letting her die."

Jack studied her. "And now?"

She played with her wedding ring. "My father's name is Jacob."

Instantly, the blond man he'd met yesterday popped into his mind. The man named Jacob O'Neill. "Ah."

She bit the inside of her cheek. "I've been a little hesitant to ask about their story. A little too afraid to find out how things were different for that other Samantha Carter."

Jack nodded. "I get that, but there's more than just your mom. I've seen the way you looked at those kids. There's something else there."

President Carter swallowed, her vision still consumed with her hands before she looked at him, reluctantly. "Five years later, on the anniversary of my mother's death, I found out I would never have children. Joe and I tried to move on, but as you can imagine, things changed after we found that out. He claims he doesn't blame me, but I'm not sure—"

She wrapped her arms so tightly around herself that Jack almost wondered if she was going to draw blood from digging her fingernails into her skin. "But enough about me. I'm not the only one who's got to be having a hard time with these kids from another timeline."

Jack fell into silence as he pondered that statement. "I'm almost afraid to ask about Charli. To see if they knew her. If the same thing happened in their timeline."

"Because you wouldn't be able to be objective anymore?"

He took a long moment before he nodded. "Full disclosure, ma'am?"

"As commander in chief?"

He nodded.

She stiffened. "Okay?"

"If I found out my kid was alive in another timeline, I'm not sure I'd wait for you to make the call. I'd just make it happen."

It seemed almost like she didn't breathe for another minute. She bobbed her head once. Then, a second time. "Understood."