O'Neill Residence
Colorado Springs, CO
November 21, 1999

Sitting in his truck, Jack watched the house and wondered what Sam was up to. He knew she and Ife were still inside, which was precisely why he hadn't left his truck yet despite turning off the engine a few minutes ago. Offering them a place to stay had seemed like a good idea at the time, even if he wasn't entirely sure about his motives. However, after spending the day with them yesterday and having breakfast together that morning, he'd realized he was enjoying it a bit too much.

He liked having them around.

For someone who liked his solitude and privacy, he'd been caught off-guard when he realized he liked sharing his space and things with a woman again and the pitter-patter and giggles of a little girl made his house seem… less empty.

So, when he got a call from the base shortly after breakfast, he'd told Sam it was an emergency and fled. Sam and Ife hadn't even been in his house for two days and already he needed some distance for a reality check – they needed somewhere to stay until Sam had access to her funds and could get their own place, they weren't in his house to play happy families.

Well, at least he'd gotten to spend some time with Teal'c on base. He and the big guy hadn't really talked about his behavior leading up to the undercover mission to terminate the Rogue NID base, but according to T all was well between them. Jack was pretty sure that translated to Teal'c exactly knowing what he was up to the whole time…

The sun was setting and he realized it was time to go inside. He'd been gone for most of the day, already. Of course, it was entirely possible that Sam actually enjoyed having the house to herself and not having him around the whole time. She, Ife and Bra'tac had been living pretty solitary lives off-world, after all. Then again, it was kind of rude of him to leave her and Ife to their own devices after offering them a place to stay…

Jack was welcomed by warmth, the smell of food and Sam's voice when he opened the front door and shrugged off his jacket. Logically, he knew the warmth came from the central heating but he couldn't suppress the ache he felt in his chest at the picture Sam and Ife made on the living room floor. They were sitting on the quilt Catherine had made – Sam Indian style and Ife across from her – in front of the fireplace.

Sam turned around when he came down the steps and quirked a little smile. "Hey, you're back."

"Yeah."

"Sorry about the mess," she said, "I'll clean it up. I didn't know how long you'd be, so I made some soup and figured I'd feed Ife before putting her down for a nap. I hope you don't mind-"

Jack waved her down when she was about to get up. "It's fine, don't worry about it."

He caught sight of her abashed smile before she turned back to her daughter, mumbling, "You haven't seen the kitchen yet."

"I guess I'll just avoid the kitchen for now then," he said, taking a seat on the sofa. There was a bowl of soup, coffee cup, bottle of water, bib and the plush toy Daniel had picked out on the coffee table. Jack figured that was better than old magazines, takeout boxes and empty beer bottles. It felt… homey. Made the room look lived in, in a good way. "She still taking naps?"

"I think she tired herself out," Sam said, glancing at him over her shoulder. "You should have seen her this afternoon… I think she's just glad for the space after being cooped up in the infirmary's plastic bubble for a week."

That much was obvious. He'd visited them daily and sometimes more than once a day when they'd been in quarantine and most of the time, Ife had been sleeping, resting or being sick. The girl had been quiet and shy, quite the opposite of her behavior since waking up in his house. Just a few days ago, he'd been in agreement with the Doc about Ife's underdevelopment but since then, she'd been walking and talking, as much as her one-word responses could be called talking. Not to mention using the bathroom. Fraiser wasn't on duty until after the weekend, so he hadn't spoken to her yet about his observations, but he'd made a note to discuss them with her.

Sam got to her feet and lifted a drowsy-looking Ife up in her arms, casting him a quick glance before heading for the steps. "I'm just going to put her down for a nap."

"Sure," he said, "sleep tight, munchkin."

Once they disappeared into the hallway, he got more comfortable on the sofa and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV. There wasn't anything that held his attention though, so he kept channel surfing mindlessly. After a few minutes, he got up and went to the kitchen to get a beer, turning on lights as he went.

He stopped in the door opening, staring at the counter. Sam hadn't been kidding. However, he was unable to curb his curiosity and entered the kitchen to inspect the mess. Up close, he realized it was mostly used and discarded pots, pans and utensils, so he simply loaded them into the dishwasher. There were a few lost potato peels and carrot tops, which he threw in the bin before wiping down the counter.

The soup actually didn't look all that bad, so he filled himself a bowl as a reward for the cleanup and got a beer from the fridge. He went back to the living room and retook his place on the sofa to eat his light meal. The TV hadn't become any more interesting than a few minutes ago, though.

Sam came back into the living room just as he set his empty bowl onto the coffee table.

"The soup's good."

"Thanks. I was planning on making some actual dinner…"

"But you ran out of clean pots and pans?" He finished in a teasing tone.

She ducked her head, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I told you the kitchen was a mess."

He shrugged, "Don't worry about, it's fine. Actually, I can't remember the last time I had homemade soup. The crap they serve in the commissary can't really be called soup."

Sam made a helpless gesture with her right hand, sighing. "I was never much of a cook before… well, before. I learned a lot though. Give me an animal, some leaves or sticks and a campfire, and I can make you dinner. No promises it'll taste very good, but it'll fill you up," she said, chuckling softly. "Pots and pans, though? I'm afraid I haven't mastered that ability yet."

"We've got time."

"'We'?"

"Um, well," he stammered, "I meant… um-"

A small grin tugged at her lips, "You're going to teach me how to cook properly, Jack?"

"Hey, I can cook a meal or two," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I've got plenty of pots and pans and a dishwasher for you to learn."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He smirked and turned back to the TV, "You do that."

After a minute or two, Jack realized she was still standing in the same spot, looking uncomfortable. "Sam?"

She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, one of which was holding something. "I saw these last night and I didn't want to bring it up, but when I just put Ife to bed I realized you might want them."

"Oh." As soon as she started explaining, he realized what she was holding in her hand. The thought had crossed his mind, but only before going to bed and by then she was already in his room. He reached out to take the photographs from her when she crossed the distance between them. "Thanks."

"A-are they…" Sam sighed and sat down next to him, a small frown on her face. "Is that your family?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

A quick glance at her face didn't tell him what she was thinking, so he dropped his gaze back to the picture frames. The family that no longer was stared back at him in one and in the other, Charlie was holding his first trophy and the boy's grin was as wide as his own. There were a few more pictures of Charlie around the house and Jack wondered if Sam had noticed he was pretty much the same age in all of them, except for one baby picture.

Sam hesitantly reached out and covered his hand as he traced Charlie's smile with his fingers. It was the first physical contact she'd initiated and that alone was enough to make him freeze. "You don't have to tell me about them, Jack. I just thought you should have the photographs."

"No, I, er…" He pushed back the emotions and cleared his throat before trying again, "I should explain."

"You don't owe me anything."

Jack scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to find the words. She trusted him enough to bring her daughter into his home – she deserved to know the truth. "Four years ago, Charlie… he died. Sara and I, we tried, but we couldn't make it work. Losing him destroyed us."

"Oh, Jack-"

"Then General West offered me a way out."

Sam went still, her hand on his tensing. "The first mission to Abydos."

He grimaced, "Didn't quite go as planned."

"You survived."

"And Sara was gone when I got back. Can't say that I blame her."

"Everyone deals with grief in their own way. The death of a child… they say you either grow closer or drift apart."

"I wasn't there for her, because I couldn't forgive myself. Sara had enough to deal with without my complete lack of support, so we separated."

Sam's gaze drifted from Charlie's picture to the direction of the back of the house, where Ife was asleep. "I can't even imagine."

Jack placed the photographs on the end table to take them with him to the guest room later that evening. Turning back to her, he felt the need to clarify, "The divorce was finalized a few months before we met. In DC."

"I'm sorry."

"It was for the best. Sara deserved better." He raised a hand to forestall her response when she was about to open her mouth, "Trust me. Sara… I think in her heart she forgave me for what happened to our kid, she just…couldn't forget. I'm the opposite, I'll never forgive myself, but sometimes I can forget. Sometimes."

"Jack–"

"It was my fault," he said, after taking a swig of beer. Talking had never been his thing and certainly not when it was about feelings, never mind Charlie, but for some reason, he just had to tell her. He needed her to know. "Charlie found my gun… he accidentally shot himself."

"Christ…"

Jack waited for the rest of her reaction but when he saw the concern etched on her face, he felt his heart sink. "I'd understand if you don't trust me with Ife," he rushed the words, "or that you'd feel my house is an unsafe environment for her. I swear, I locked my sidearm in the gun safe the night you came here, but I'd understand if y-"

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"No?"

"Jesus Jack, you lost your son." Sam could tell he was surprised by her vehement response but she couldn't get over the horrific way he'd lost his son. The memories of her own fear over her unborn child while pregnant and later the baby's safety after Ife was born came back to her. She recalled Han'na's heartbreaking story about the children she'd lost and how it had reinforced her own determination to keep Ife safe, but she hadn't been able to suppress the ever-present fear that Ife would get hurt – or worse.

Jack looked away, the pained expression on his face tugging on her heartstrings. "We'd argued about a water pistol a few weeks before… Sara didn't want guns around the house and I agreed that Charlie shouldn't play with fake guns, but I thought I needed the sidearm to protect my family in case someone from my past missions tracked me down."

"It wasn't your fault, Jack."

"Of course it was my fault! I should have kept my loaded gun under lock and key, not somewhere my boy could get his hands on it!"

Sam's heart ached for him and she reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "It was an accident."

"It was my gun!"

"I know," she said softly, squeezing his shoulder. "But you didn't know Charlie would find it."

Jack angrily rubbed at his eyes, "I should have known. He was always so curious."

"You couldn't have foreseen this. Blaming yourself isn't going to bring him back."

"He was my kid, Sam, and he shot himself with my gun."

She had no idea what to say because, like him, she never would forgive herself if something happened to Ife. Seeing how torn up he was broke her heart though, so she took a leaf out of his book and slid her hand up to his neck, tugging gently, "C'mere."

Jack resisted briefly before he let her pull him into a hug, dipping his head in the crook of her neck.

He nearly squeezed the air from her lungs as he wrapped his arms around her waist, but she didn't say anything and hesitantly returned the gesture. It had been a long time since she'd been completely enveloped in someone else's arms and she swallowed hard against the panic threatening to overwhelm her. Instead, she tightened her grip on him and stroked his hair when his emotions got the better of him. "It wasn't your fault," she whispered.

His body started shaking in her arms and she felt his harsh breaths against her neck, sending a shudder down her back. Charlie's photograph was on the end table behind Jack and she felt the burn of tears in her eyes over his loss. There was nothing more devastating than losing a child and although she couldn't realistically comprehend such a loss, she knew she'd have done the same he did. If Ife hadn't made it off-world, she never would have fought so hard to survive, to return home. What would have been the point?

"Christ," Jack mumbled as he pulled away from the hug, turning away from her and scrubbing a hand over his face. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be."

He quirked a sad smile before getting to his feet. "You've got enough on your plate without dealing with my crap."

"Jack…"

"I'm just gonna get a refill. Can I get you anything?"

Sam shook her head and watched as he picked up his beer bottle – nowhere near empty – and headed for the kitchen. He needed some privacy and she would give it to him. Besides, she didn't mind a moment to get a grip on her own turbulent emotions.

Fuck.

He lost his son.

Seeing the photographs in his bedroom had confused her at first, but then she'd realized those and a few others of Charlie were the only signs of Jack possibly having a family. It hadn't escaped her attention that the boy was roughly the same age in most of them, never older than eight years or so. Naively, she'd hoped that simply meant Jack had gotten a divorce – preferably before they'd met in DC – and his ex-wife had sole custody.

It reminded her once again that they didn't really know each other at all. Not the way they might have, if her first ever off-world mission hadn't gone wrong and they'd met up at the SGC again…

What was she supposed to do now? She couldn't very well tell him about Ife, not when he'd just revealed what had happened to his son. No, it would have to wait. Even if he was open to having more kids – God knew she didn't have his strength – it would feel like she was trying to replace one child with another if she told him right away. And who knew, Jack might not want to risk his heart again by starting a new family. Could she really put him that position?

"I shouldn't have dumped all that on you." Jack's voice was still a bit hoarse as he reappeared in the living room.

"Don't apologize," Sam said, before he could do so.

He looked a bit confused. "Um, okay."

She got up and briefly touched his arm. "It means a lot that you confided in me."

"You trust me with your little girl, so I figured you had a right to know."

"And I still trust you, Jack."

Grimacing, he rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. "Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't."

Sam reached up and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. "I trusted you to find Grieves and his accomplices so I could come home and you did. I've seen you with Ife and I know you wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"Not on purpose."

"I know," she said, seeing the conviction in his eyes. "However, I would understand if it's too much for you."

Jack covered her hands with his own and gently pulled them away from his face. "Too much?"

"Of a reminder."

"I wouldn't have made the offer if I couldn't handle it, Sam.'

"Sure?"

He quirked a smile at her and nodded slowly, "Yeah. If I didn't feel like I'd be able to handle having a child around, I wouldn't occasionally watch Fraiser's kid either."

Relieved, Sam returned the smile. It was good to know he still cared and hadn't closed off his heart because of what happened with Charlie. "I had no idea."

"Kids and dogs are my favorite people," he said, shrugging. His gaze drifted off towards the back of the house, where Ife was sleeping. "Maybe, in the future… I don't know. If I'm with the right person…"

She could tell he was struggling but she needed to know, for Ife's sake, so she prompted him, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, like I said, maybe," he grimaced again. "Just… it scares me, you know, to have that kind of responsibility. To be a parent, again."

"Scary as hell," she affirmed.

He indicated the back of the house, "Ife's a sweetheart, though. Takes after you in the looks department, too. A little mini Sam."

Startled, Sam just stared at him for a moment. No one had commented on who Ife took after yet and she was pretty sure that was because they all assumed she was Klorel's – Skaara's, she reminded herself – child. And she hadn't done anything to dissuade them from that notion. "I was terrified when I found out I was pregnant."

"Sam…"

She could tell he was searching for the right thing to say and she didn't even know why she'd blurted it out, because she certainly didn't want him to ask too many questions. "I'd never given kids much thought and to be responsible for a baby scared the hell out of me."

"I'd say that's pretty normal, especially considering your circumstances," he said. "Hell, you had it rough but you did a great job with her."

"We've run into hostiles and I can't even remember the number of times weapons have been fired in Ife's presence," she said, huffing. "I disemboweled and skinned animals in front of her."

The look in his eyes softened in understanding. "Still, she's a great kid."

"I've had so many near-misses with her, but aside from Bra'tac and myself, I wouldn't trust anyone with her the way I trust you, Jack."

"Christ, Sam," he said, "that's a lot of responsibility."

She bit her lip and nodded slowly. "Yeah… so if it's all the same to you, we're staying here, with you."