a/n: I thought I already posted this chapter, but somehow, I must've forgotten. I'm sorry. Forgive me? Also, this is the last of my already-written chapters and so I don't know when I will get the next one out. Hopefully this week? It's a busy time of the year, so I can't make any promises, sorry. I wanted to edit this, I really didn't care for this chapter that much, but it's hard to edit something that was written awhile ago without just deleting it and starting over, and I REALLY don't have the time to do that! I hope you like it anyways.
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While Jake was at school the following day, Jack prepared himself for the next confrontation with his son. He had borrowed Carter's car again and gone to Daniel's apartment after talking to the archaeologist briefly on the phone.
The apartment was empty when he got there, but Jack used the key Cassie had given him and quickly entered his old friend's home. The smell of dusty books and stale coffee permeated the small living quarters and Jack let a small smile grace his face over the familiar setting.
He went to the spare bedroom and opened the closet. After seeing the mess inside, Jack sighed heavily and then started pulling out boxes and books until he found the box he was looking for. He pulled it down and set it on the small bed. Taking off the lid, he peered inside at his possessions he hadn't seen in much too long of a time.
He felt his eyes moisten, but was sure it was from the dust circulating in the room and not because of his turbulent emotions. After fingering several items, his eyes rested lovingly on a photo of Charlie in his baseball uniform. Jack closed the lid and quickly shoved everything else back in the closet. Picking up the box, Jack left Daniel's apartment, his mind already spinning on what he was going to share with his son.
Jake walked in the front door of his house and dropped his backpack on the floor. "I'm hungry!" he complained, turning towards the kitchen.
"Wait, Jake!" Jack said, walking over to his son. "I want to talk to you first, then we'll eat. Come in here and have a seat."
Jake glowered at his father, but did what he was told. He walked over and plopped his small frame in the seat, the brooding action making Jake seem so much bigger than he actually was.
Jack cleared his throat and sat down next to the boy. Bending over, he picked the box up, the lid already off, and set it on his other side. He had gone through the box earlier and already had it all sorted out. Picking up a photo, Jack stared at it for a few seconds before handing it to Jake.
"This is my favorite photo of your mother and I." The photo was taken outside and Jack had his arm around Sam's shoulders and she had her arm around his waist, they were looking at the camera and grinning like fools. Jack remembered the day clearly. It was just after the goa'uld had left their planet after agreeing to include Earth in the Asgaard's Protected Planets Treaty. Because Jack had been beamed away by Thor during Carter's promotion ceremony, he decided to throw a party for her at his house and bar-be-que.
The day had been a blast, and one of his fondest memories. He and Carter had left work at work and were completely friendly with each other all day. Being with her, no thoughts of rank pushing them away, he had been like a schoolboy. Teasing and touching her whenever he could get away with it. He had tickled her and wrapped his arms around her and dipped her as a joke, in which she had shrieked and smacked him playfully in the chest. Looking back, it was that day that his craving to have Carter as more in his life than a mere colleague and friend had really taken root.
Jake looked at the picture of his parents without saying a word. Jack handed him a few more photos.
"These are pictures of your mom and I at work. See our uniforms? I was your mom's boss, her commanding officer. We weren't allowed to be together because of that….. But, I still loved her, and still wanted to be with her very much." Jack's voice had dropped and hollowed out significantly towards the end of his speech, and Jake had noticed and gazed up at his father.
"You loved my mom?" he asked in disbelief.
"Very much," Jack told him, looking his son straight in the eyes. "I still do. I always will."
Jake dropped his gaze to his lap and nodded. His mom had always told him that she loved his father and that his father loved her, but to Jake, they had only been words. He didn't know his father then, had never met the man once. Back then, he didn't care what his father's feelings were, because back then, his father was only a name, nothing more.
Until now.
Now, Jake's father was here, and no more just a name. Now, what his father felt for his mother meant everything to Jake. Did his parents really love each other? And if so, then why did he leave them?
As if reading Jake's mind, Jack continued. "I left because I had a responsibility elsewhere. Your mom understood this, and even though we both hated it, I wouldn't be who I am if I didn't go. To me, there was no other choice."
Jack paused for a minute, his throat tightening and becoming unbearably uncomfortable.
"I missed your mom so much. She was on my mind all the time, every day, every minute. When I couldn't take it anymore, I tried to come home, but I couldn't. Something happened and I was stranded. As much as I wanted to come back home to your mom, I couldn't. I was stuck. Daniel and Teal'c rescued me and brought me back. That is why I am here now." Jack looked at Jake's large, rounded eyes. "I've always wanted to be here, Jake."
"You were stranded on like, a desert island?" Jake asked in awe.
Jack smiled. "Something like that. Except there were other people there too, so I wasn't all alone, and they actually lived there. I was the only one who wasn't home."
Jake nodded and Jack noticed the softening of his features as the scowl that had been so prominent on the small boy's face since he met him, receded to nothing.
"Can I eat now?" Jake asked.
Jack chuckled. "Sure, what do you want? Peanut butter and jelly, ham and cheese?"
"Hot dogs!" Jake exclaimed.
Jack laughed again and raised his eyebrows. "Hot dogs, huh?"
Jake jumped up off the couch and set all the photos but one on the coffee table. "Can we frame this one and put it on the wall?" he asked, handing the photo of Sam and Jack at his house back to him.
Jack looked lovingly at the photo, his thumb brushing gently over Carter in the picture. "Sure we can, squirt, sure we can," he told him and then followed the eager boy to the kitchen for hot dogs.
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The rest of the gang stayed away for the next few days, letting Jack and Jake get to know each other without any interference from any of them. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and Jack was picking up the few toys and dishes that had accumulated over the weekend.
He walked by the den and saw Jake sprawled out on the floor, his head resting comfortably on Cosmo's sprawled out body. He had two action figures in his hands, and was playing quietly with them, totally oblivious to his father gazing amusedly at him. Shaking his head, Jack smiled and continued his trek to the kitchen.
The kitchen was a disaster. The two of them had been having so much fun watching hours and hours of Simpson episodes that Jack had missed while off-world, and playing board games as well, that he had let the kitchen get overloaded with dirty dishes.
Sighing, Jack opened up the dishwasher, and started shoving the dirty dishes inside. When he couldn't fit anymore in, he washed the few remaining dishes in the sink and then wiped down the counter and the table, which was somehow covered in a thin layer of maple syrup.
After sweeping the floor and taking out the trash, Jack walked back towards the den to ask Jake if he wanted to go out for ice cream. But, when he got there, he saw the action figures laying on each side of him and the young boy fast asleep on his dog. Smiling warmly, Jack fetched a small blanket and laid it over his son. Cosmo watched his every move, but for once, didn't growl at him.
As Jack walked back out to the front room, he heard the doorbell ring, and he quickly made his way to it before the noise woke up Jake.
"General Hammond," Jack said in shock as he opened the door to his former commanding officer. "What are you doing here?" he asked at the same time that he motioned for the older man to come inside.
General Hammond walked inside. "I hear things are going better around here, Jack."
"Uh, yes, it took a little bit, but I think I'm winning him over."
Hammond grinned at Jack. "He's as stubborn as you."
Jack laughed and the two men walked to the living room. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"Oh, no thanks. I just came from lunch with my granddaughters. I just wanted to stop by and see how things were going. Where is the little guy?"
"Asleep," Jack answered, taking a seat on Carter's easy chair. "I'm glad you stopped by, sir. I wanted to ask if I could see the mission reports for Carter's last mission."
"What for?" Hammond asked nonchalantly.
Jack raised his eyebrows and thought about it for a second before replying. "Closure."
George nodded in understanding. "Why don't you stop by the mountain one day this week while Jake's at school. There are a lot of people who want to see you again. You said something about wanting to touch base with your people too. I can have the mission reports ready for you when you get there."
Jack's face lit up with excitement. "Yes sir, that sounds like a plan. How about tomorrow?"
"Works for me," Hammond said with a grin.
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Laira was preparing supper in the kitchen when she heard a moan. At first, she thought it was just the wind, but the second time, she was sure it was human. The third time, realization struck, and she dropped the plate she had in her hand. It shattered on the floor, but she simply jumped over it and rushed to the room that housed the injured Major Carter.
"Major Carter?" she practically yelled, kneeling down beside the bed and picking up the cloth from the washbowl. She dabbed Sam's forehead and the major moaned again. "Major Carter, can you hear me? Please open your eyes."
What seemed like an eternity later, two small blue orbs appeared under heavy eyelids and looked at the woman caring for her in confusion.
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a/n: The image of Jake laying on the dog was what created this whole story in the first place. My four-year old son used to always lay on our dog like that and play with his toys, and one day when I saw him doing that, Jake was born. Jake is in no way modeled after any of my kids, it was just that particular image at that particular moment that sent my mind whirring into story mode. (Just thought I'd share.) And, ooh, Sam will be home soon!