The Next Night
No-one told Jack before he became special ops that it meant you never slept again, not really. You rested. You closed your eyes. You even dreamed. But you never lost touch with the world in the complete way he had before his training.
So he knows the second Sam's nightmare begins. He wakes up and pulls her closer to him. He rubs her back and kisses her temple.
She goes rigid, and her eyes open wide. She struggles to get away from him, like he's strangling her. So he moves away from her. Sam jumps out of bed, and starts running. Jack isn't sure exactly how awake she is, so he follows her to protect her.
She runs into her son's room, and pulls his arm out of the blanket. She feels it from the armpit to the wrist. She breathes a sigh of relief, and she pulls the blankets around him again. She kisses his forehead, and then lies next to him.
"Sammy?" Jack asks, his gut wrenching at this action. He's seen stuff like this before. This is what people do when they've undergone trauma.
"It's ok, Jack, you can go home," Sam whispers, smoothing her son's hair.
"Sam, you're not going to sleep here all night, are you? What will he think?" Jack asks.
Sam swallows hard, "I've done it before. I just tell him that he had a nightmare."
"But they're not his nightmares, Sam. Parents are supposed to comfort their children, not the other way around."
She stares at him with her bottom lip quivering.
"Let me comfort you," he says.
"You're going to take him from me," she says, staring at him.
His gut lurches, and he shakes his head, "Sammy, whatever this is, we can't do it in Ty's room."
She nods her head, and gives her son a hug firm enough that he stirs. But he never fully wakes. As soon as Sam is out of his bed Jack wraps his arms around her. They walk back to Sam's bedroom. Sam walks into the closet, and takes out a folder.
"Ty's medical records, from when he was sixteen months old," she says, handing to him.
"Was he sick?" Jack asks.
She shakes her head.
Jack opens up the file, and reads. He's confused; bruises, lacerations, malnutrition, a broken arm... suspected child abuse?
"No, you wouldn't do that," he says, still confused.
She's sobbing.
"No, you did not starve and hit that little boy. No way! Samantha, you love him. You need to tell me what is going on," he says.
"I'm at work one day, and I get the call. My baby boy is in the hospital. So, I drive down there, and I can see Tyler in the hospital room, screaming. He's crying for all he's worth, and there are three nurses holding him down so they can put the stupid cast on his arm. And I try to go in there, try to comfort him. And they won't let me. And the social worker comes, and starts asking me questions," Sam starts.
"You weren't even there," Jack says, even more confused. The only person she lets watch Ty is Jacob, and he can't believe that Jacob did this any more than Sam did.
"No, but I hired her," Sam sobs.
Jack takes her into his arms. Now it makes sense. This is obviously WHY she doesn't let anyone watch him except for Jacob and himself. "It's not your fault, Samantha. It's not your fault."
She pulls away, and shakes her head at him. "Three months, Jack. Before I hired her, he was potty trained, walking and talking. And it wasn't just a couple of words either. It was advanced for a kid his age. What kind of mother doesn't notice…" she begins.
"Lots of things can cause a loss of skills. There is no way you could have known why it happened," he says gently.
"But how can a mother not realize that someone has been starving her baby for three months? I mean, I would get home, and feed him, and he would eat so much. I would tease him, call him the applesauce monster or whatever he was eating. And for three months, that was the only food the kid got. She'd come when I was getting ready for work in the morning. She was supposed to feed him breakfast and lunch."
Jack closes his eyes, suddenly wishing for a time machine he could use to drop back in time to feed his son.
"The… arm," he asks.
It takes Sam three tries to get a word out of her mouth, and that is only for the first one. "She… threw him… against the wall, because he dirtied a diaper," she sobs.
"I assume this… I can't think of a word bad enough for her… she's in jail, right?" Jack asks.
"Probation," Sam says shaking her head, "She did some time right after. When she got out, Dad helped me alert people, so she'll never get another job working with kids," Sam says.
Jack closes his eyes, "Sam… are there any permanent effects?"
"He doesn't remember it. I mean, he doesn't even know," she says.
"That's probably for the best. I can't imagine how to explain to some kid that someone who was supposed to protect him hurt him on purpose," Jack says.
"He has a lot of cavities from the malnutrition."
"Well, they are baby teeth."
"He was small for a long time, but his body rate was back in the normal range a year later. They say there could be… a decrease in mental ability."
"Well, I think we're safe there. Tyler's smart, Sammy," Jack says with a hint of pride.
"I know, but I wonder… how smart would he have been if none of this had ever happened to him?" Sam asks.
He pulls her into his arms again, and rubs her back. "He was screaming for me," she says tearfully.
"He's got you now," Jack says.
Sam pulls away, "The social workers said that it's not my fault, but I hired her, Jack. I left my baby with her for three months, and I never noticed that she was HURTING him. If you were there, Jack, maybe you would have known. Maybe you would have saved him."
"The only difference would be I would be in jail for murdering that ass who laid a hand on my son," Jack says.
"Don't think that I didn't consider it," Say says, completely seriously.
"Samantha, seriously, you're a good mother, and this wasn't your fault. I would never take him away from you," he says, handing the folder back to her.
She throws it on the dresser, and sits back down the bed. He lies down and wraps his arms around her. She still doesn't feel safe, but at least now there isn't a giant secret between them.
Jack doesn't fall asleep, though. An hour after of holding Sam, he does exactly what he told her not to, and stares at his son in bed for a little bit. "I didn't know the monsters were real, buddy," he whispers, before going into the kitchen.
As Jack flicks on the light, he sees Jacob sitting in the darkness, drinking a glass of orange juice. "I'm sorry," Jack says, moving to leave.
"Please, stay," Jacob says. He swirls the orange juice around in the cup. "You know, I never used to like this stuff. We never kept it around in the house when the kids were growing up. Then when Sam came to live with me, back when she was pregnant with Tyler, she craved the stuff." He laughs, "They talk about pickles and ice cream, with Sam it was orange juice with ice cream. Usually in the same glass."
Jack smiles.
"Funny, I started drinking the stuff, and I never stopped. Families are complicated, Jack. They are a combination of the habits, temperaments, likes, dislikes, and habits of a group of people. They're an organic thing, they grow."
"I wish I had there to bring her orange juice," Jack says.
"Maybe next time," Jacob says with a smirk.
Jack smiles, "She told me about what happened with Tyler," Jack says seriously.
Jacob nods, "I knew she would. I retired that next day. If I'd done that when Ty was born…"
"It wasn't your fault," Jack says.
"Maybe not, but I still could have saved him," Jacob pauses, "I didn't know they made casts that small."
"They shouldn't have to," Jack says.
"Ain't that the truth," Jacob says. There is a long pause, "Samantha thinks you're going to take that baby away from us, but you aren't going to, are you, Jack?" the voice is almost pleading.
"No, I don't think I could if I wanted to, and I don't want to," Jack says.
"That's good, because families; they're organic things," Jacob says.
Jack doesn't understand what he means by this phrase that he's repeated twice, until he opens up the fridge. There is a six-pack of Guinness in there, and Guinness is not Jacob's brand.
Jack takes one out, even though he didn't really want to drink right then. He pops it open, and has a sip.
He knows he's a Carter now.
Two Nights Later
"Mommy! Time to get up!" Ty says, jumping between his two parents. He stares at his dad in surprise, "Daddy? Were you here all night?"
"Yeah, Mommy and I had a sleepover party," he says quickly, looking at Sam for advice.
"Oh," Ty says with a shrug, "Next time, can you sleep in my room?"
"Ty, you only have a bed for one person, and I have room for two," Sam says, hoping that logic will win out.
"How come Daddy doesn't get his own room? I bet if he got his own room, he'd have more sleepovers."
Jack giggles to himself, thinking that it wasn't likely. "You know what kid, I like having your mom as a roommate."
"If I let you have my room, would you stay forever?" Ty asks.
Jack looks at him, "How about this, I stay forever anyway?"
Ty bounces on the bed.
"I'm still going to go home sometimes. But I'll be here. I'll try to be here every time your mom isn't, and other times too. Not all the time, but I'll always be there when you need me."
"Ok," Ty says, "I want waffles."
"Waffles it is," Jack says.
Sam starts to follow them.
"Sit down, Samantha, your boys are bringing you waffles in bed."
A Week Later
"O'Neill, are you mated?" the mayor asks as they walk into some harvest festival.
"Ah… I'm with someone, and we have a son," Jack is never quite sure how to address the "living in sin" thing on primitive planets.
"Is your son your wife's or yours?" the man asks.
"Both of ours," Jack says, too confused by the strange question to correct the man's assumption.
"Of course, but which one of you bore him?" the man asks.
"My wife," Jack says trying not to stare at him.
"I bore the children first in my marriage, twin girls," the man says with a smile, "My wife is expecting our third."
"I'm sorry, did you just say that you were pregnant?" Jack asks the man, trying to keep his chin from dropping to the floor.
"In your culture, you have not yet discovered the rights of equality?" the man asks.
"What?" Jack asks.
"The ability of men to bear young, it has not known among your people?" the man presses.
"Ah… no," Jack says, trying not to look shocked.
"How old is your boy?" the man asks.
Jack is grateful for the change in conversation, "Three," he says proudly.