Part 9: Microscopic

6 months later…

Jack drove their Danno 3500 through the streets of the city toward home. Sam was silent in the passenger seat next to him. She was always like this after receiving one of Lilly and JJ's communications. It was the internal battle that caused her silence, one side that was relieved to hear from their children knowing they were alive and well. The other side objected–

"They're my babies," Sam finally said to Jack, breaking the silence

"Eighteen and sixteen, hardly babies anymore."

"But they're my babies."

"Ah." Jack finally got it.

Sometimes it took a few tries at the old Samantha Carter O'Neill logic thread, but usually he got it eventually. Her kids, the ones she should be protecting from the dangers of the universe, not the other way around. She was the solider, not them. Well, not officially.

But Jack saw it differently. He'd long ago figured out that his greatest contribution to humanity was not his own time in the military and SGC service. No, it was his kids. They had some pretty special talents; someone who set up that Weston Heights experiment knew what they were doing.

Jack's greatest contribution to humanity was having spent all these years giving his kids a normal life, showing them what it meant to love and be loved, teaching them morals and values, and what being a family was all about.

So one day, when the moment of truth came, JJ and Lily would use their special abilities to do good instead of harm and save everyone. They would also be smart enough to get through everything alive, and come home again when it was all over.

Besides, it wasn't as if he and Sam were just sitting home casting finishing lines, they were doing their part as well. Not on the battlefront, but still actively involved in the fight. Sam's entire lab was working on technologies that were helping. The phase shift technology being only the latest advance she'd sent into the field. Today's message included glowing praise of its effectiveness.

Jack felt for more than a decade now that he was in the right place. He was doing the right thing and was fulfilled by staying home, raising their kids. But now, Jack couldn't just sit idly by and wait, and the "empty nest" syndrome wasn't the issue. In Jack's mind, his mission hadn't changed at all, he simply had to find a new way to help his kids in any way possible, to support, nurture, and keep them safe, so that they could save the world.

At first, Sam invited Jack to come to work with her. She always insisted that Jack had a way of looking at things differently, reducing something down to its elements and helping her figure out particularly complex and troublesome challenges.

Just today, Jack was fiddling with one of her doohickeys while she went on and on. He wasn't listening.

Sam had tried to use a car as an analogy in order to make the principle of the problem she was having understandable to him. But all Jack could think was that cars weren't going to help Lilly and JJ.

"So," Sam concluded, "I can't figure out if it should turn left or turn right at that exact moment of discharge." She looked up at him expectantly.

Jack smirked at her expression thinking, God, even after all these years she was gorgeous. He was more in love with her today than back when she was his Major and he'd visit her lab at the SGC. Back when his excuses for coming by were all a ruse, just a chance to look at her and spend time with her. Hm, maybe nothing had changed.

"Jack," she narrowed her eyes as she said it, catching on to the fact that he hadn't been listening.

Jack's brain quickly scrambled for some thread of what she'd been saying. Oh, right, cars. Should they turn right or left?

"Well," he began slowly, "cars also go straight sometimes." He did a little dramatic gesture of his finger pointing straight into the distance.

Sam was about to laugh at him, but then a thought occurred. She stopped, stared, considered, and then she grinned. "You're brilliant!" She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Nah, just been hangin' out with you for too many years."

Now they were in the car on the way home– ironically traveling straight at the moment– and Jack felt ill at ease. He was worried about Sam. These last six months had been difficult for her, perhaps even worse then they were on him. But it was only going to compound now with his news. He was going out in the field.

It had all been set into motion more than three months ago. The government of Kyrus had put together several small, elite covert groups to go out and do recon missions to gather intel. It was in an effort to get information to the front lines (which were currently in a dwarf galaxy neighboring the Milky Way) about what was happening elsewhere, without the front lines wasting valuable time and resources to do it themselves. Jack was heading up the operations planning and execution, but what Sam didn't know was that they had been asking if Jack would actively participate.

So far, Jack had come up with excuses about being needed for training and tactics. But he was considering it, if only because he wanted to do whatever he could to assist and eventually bring his kids home safe. The only stumbling block was Sam's inevitable argument against it. She was barely holding it together as it was, if Jack went out there too, he just knew her veneer of strength would dissolve.

They arrived home and he pulled the electronic car into the garage. He cut the engine and looked at her. "We're going to be OK, all of us. Whatever happens, we have to believe that."

Sam leaned toward him and they held each other. For a long time in that garage they said nothing, shed no tears, they made no promises nor confession of fears. Sam and Jack held each other and said silent prayers for the safety of their children.

Millions of light years away, Lilly and JJ sat in the bridge of a cloaked ship that was hovering over a plant. They looked at each other.

They're worried, Lilly sent him.

We just sent a communication yesterday, it's not like they haven't heard from us. Jeez, what do they want? Kinda busy here…

But–

Lilly, there's nothing we can do about that now. Stay focused. We've got a mission.