Two days into the trip to rescue Jack, Sam had taken the hyperdrive system apart and put it back together three times in hopes she'd actually be able to fix it, despite Jacob's warnings to the contrary. At least, she'd said, it gave her something to do with her hands. He understood, because two weeks on a tel'tak was a long time, especially when Daniel was around with his books and lectures.
Sam was short tempered and seemed to do her best to steer clear of the other occupants of the ship. It was, however, very difficult for her to avoid her father since he'd purposefully settled Teal'c into the pilot's seat.
"No luck, I take it," he said to her as he leaned against the doorway into the hyperdrive chamber.
"No," she said with a resigned sigh.
"Guess third time wasn't a charm."
"Dad-" she warned lowly.
He held his hands up in surrender. "I've got some other systems that could use a tune up if you're jonesing for something to do."
Sam wiped her hands on her pants more out of habit, he supposed, than out of need – there wasn't much in the way of engine oil on a Goa'uld vessel. "You know I am."
"You do seem a bit... on edge."
"I'm not on edge," she immediately denied.
"You're worried about Jack."
"Of course I am."
"Really worried."
"Look, dad, we just got him back, okay? And now he's in the clutches of some woman hellbent on making a slave out of him and who is quite probably drugging him with the Blood of Sokar to facilitate his compliance."
"We still don't know what's happening there. Just because she took a liking to him doesn't mean she had any nefarious intentions."
"How often is that our luck?" she asked caustically.
He considered her carefully, his head tilted to one side just a little. He scrutinized her so long she started to fidget under his gaze. Finally, he ventured, "Is there something going on between you and Colonel O'Neill?"
"What?! No," she said in that way she'd had since she was a child of denying something when there was some truth to it. She took an apparent calming breath then asked, "Why would you ask that?"
Rather than answer her question, he said, "You know the regulations as well as anybody, Sam."
"There's nothing going on," she persisted.
But Jacob and Selmak had had a long conversation on the subject and they both agreed that Sam's level of worry and her nervous actions spoke more about a woman who had lost a man rather than an officer who had lost a CO. And Jacob was very worried about the implications of that. He'd been made aware of Jack's sabbatical on Edora and how Sam had pushed herself to bring him home. And though he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, seeing the fire in hers while Jack was on Astarte's planet gave Jacob plenty enough information to fuel his own concerns.
When he didn't say anything, she huffed and said, "Dad, listen, I'm not sure what you've heard, but-"
"I haven't heard anything," he cut in. "But you're telling me I'm not the first one to wonder what's going on between you and Jack?"
She looked at him guiltily. He knew her well enough that she didn't even have to answer.
"Oh, Sammy, what have you done?" he asked her quietly, stepping closer to her, instantly being torn between hugging her and scolding her.
"Nothing dad, I swear." Her tone was pleading. Pleading with him to believe her.
Suddenly he did, and he had a pretty clear picture of what was going on. "How long have you had feelings for him?"
"Dad, I-"
"How long, Sam?"
She pulled herself up to her full height and set a rock-steady glare on her face. "This is none of your business."
"I care about you, it is my business."
"I'm doing my job. That's all that matters."
"But are you doing it safely, Sam? Or are your emotions clouding your judgment?"
"I've done nothing but work to get him home. Not once, but twice now. There's nothing about my performance that could be faulted."
"Except that you seem to work yourself into the ground over it."
"Which is exactly what I'd do if anyone was lost off world."
He nodded slowly. "Right."
"Dad-" she said warningly.
He decided to back off for the moment. She was nothing but defensive and he wasn't going to get anything useful out of her anyway. But that didn't mean he didn't have his theories and that he wasn't going to try again. Or that he wasn't going to confront Jack about it as well, because she was skittish as a colt and maybe Jack could shine a little light on the situation.
It wasn't that Jacob objected to Sam's feelings because of Jack – he actually liked Jack. It was that Jack was her CO. That spelled nothing but possible trouble for her both personally and professionally, and he didn't want to see her have to give up any of what she'd worked so hard for.
Jacob left his daughter in the hyperdrive chamber. He'd give her a while to cool off and collect herself before setting her off on a task she could actually complete. He didn't like this situation with her feelings at all, but he had to remind himself that he hadn't intended to fall for her mother, either. Her mother who wanted nothing to do with a military man. Her mother who he'd practically had to beg to marry him. He had to remind himself that the head didn't choose who to fall for and it didn't care about things like military regulations. And, as far as he could tell, he couldn't fault his daughter for her performance. And if she was adamant that nothing had happened between her and Jack then he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt – at least until he sussed out Jack, too.
Jacob relieved Teal'c of pilot's duty for a little while as he wanted something else to concentrate on besides his daughter's apparent love life. Not that it took much concentration to fly through open space, but it took enough that he found he wasn't completely taken in by it anymore. He flew for nearly an hour before a light flickered on, reminding him that there was real work Sam could be doing. He thought perhaps she could use the distraction too. He fingered the comm button and called for her.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
It was a beautiful day. He'd always remember how the day looked, how it smelled, how it felt. So he knew, instantly, when he was as he was flung into the memory. He fought against it, hard, trying for the first time to pull himself out and away from what was happening. It was fruitless, he had no control.
He was jogging towards Sara, he could feel it, he was inside himself, but he couldn't stop it. He leaned down, kissed her, smiled against her lips, kissed her again. It felt so nice. He'd forgotten what it felt like to kiss his wife. He could feel the love for her, as deep and strong as it was before the separation, before the divorce. Not that he didn't still love her, he probably always would at least a little, but it felt different now.
He looked over Sara's shoulder at Charlie's school picture, smiled again, pressed his lips against her shoulder. He reached for the photographs and-
Bang!
He was instantly on alert, he knew the gunshot had come from inside the house, but his instincts had him scanning the horizon before his brain caught up and told him what his heart didn't want to know.
Sara was screaming Charlie's name as Jack took off towards the house. With every step he tried to stop, he didn't want to see it again. But his body ran forwards, towards the sound of the shot. He ran through the front door, the foyer, up the stairs, down the hall, checking each room as he passed, the guest room, the bathroom, Charlie's room, finally, his and Sara's room.
The smell of a gunshot was thick in the air but he didn't see anything, not immediately. He had to run around the bed to see Charlie lying on the floor, gun fallen out of his little hand, a hole in his face where his right eye should be. No. No no no. Nonononononono. Jack rushed to his son, didn't bother to do the things he'd been trained to do, just gathered the boy into his arms.
He lifted him off the floor, Jack could feel blood against his hand at the back of Charlie's head. He stumbled as he raced around the bed, don't drop him, had to fight Sara at the bedroom door. She was rushing in as he was trying to rush out and then she was screaming and crying over her baby. Her hands flying immediately to Charlie's bloody face.
"Don't," he yelled at her, not sure why he didn't want her touch Charlie. For her own sake maybe, because he knew the boy was dead in his arms already, there was nothing that could be done, but still he thundered down the hall and down the staircase, through the foyer, out the front door, to his truck where he laid Charlie on the backseat. Sara was hot on his heels but he barely gave her time to get in the truck as he started it and threw it into reverse, she was still pulling her foot into the cab and closing her door.
He sped to the hospital, the terror gripping inside him, he knew it wasn't real, that he had already done this once before, but it didn't seem to matter, it felt like the first time, it felt like if he was faster, if he just drove faster, he would be able to save his son. Last time, last time he'd dallied over the body. He'd given Sara time to get into the backseat and laid his son in her lap. He'd sped to the hospital the same way he was doing this time, but he was slower before and maybe faster will be the key to saving Charlie's life.
At the hospital, he charged into the emergency waiting room with his son in his arms and the nurse behind the glass took one look at the boy and motioned Jack through a set of double doors that led to the triage area. A nurse met him there, tried to take Charlie from him, but Jack wouldn't relinquish him. So the nurse led Jack to a bed, Jack laid Charlie down gently. As a doctor swooped in to check Charlie's heartbeat, Jack looked down to see the blood all over his shirt and hands.
Then they were telling him it was too late. That Charlie's already dead. But he knew that. He already knew that. They're supposed to help. "Help him!" Jack screamed at the medical professionals, though he knew there was nothing they could do. They looked at him piteously. He was suddenly sure he was going to throw up. He looked around for something, the nurse seemed to know what was going on and thrust a plastic basin at him just in time for him to lose his lunch.
Sara was off to the side, crying, but he couldn't help her, couldn't pull her into his arms to comfort her. Instead he was puking and thinking about the gun. Why hadn't he locked up the gun? He knew why it had been out. There'd been two home invasions in the neighborhood in the past week. He'd had the gun out and on his bedside table, just in case. Not even in the drawer. Why couldn't he have at least put it in the drawer. Hindsight didn't give him any answers either, as he berated himself just as harshly as he had the time it had really happened.
He'd known Charlie was fascinated by guns. Had taken a toy gun from him less than a week before. He didn't want his son growing up to a life with guns in it. Not that he was ashamed of his service, he just wanted different memories for his child.
When he was done throwing up the nurse gently took the basin and a bottle of water appeared from his right. He thanked the woman who brought it to him by rote. He swished his mouth and swallowed the bitter taste, took another long drink to chase it away, but the back of his throat up into his nose burned with it and it felt a little like it was supposed to feel. Everything should hurt.
He looked at Charlie lying on the bed, a hole in his precious little face. The doctor was trying to turn him away from the carnage but he couldn't look away. That was his baby on the bed, not breathing. That was his baby on the bed that he might have well have killed himself. That was his baby on the bed who wouldn't be having any more school pictures, or birthdays, or baseball games. That was his baby on the bed.
Sara was sobbing openly and he found he was too stunned, to hurt, to do anything other than stand there and stare. The pain was a gaping maw inside him that was pulling every harsh emotion into it. He felt his throat thicken and his eyes misted over, but he didn't allow the sob that was threatening. He reached blindly for Sara, still staring at Charlie as he was, but she didn't come to him. He looked over at her, tearing his eyes from the boy, and she was standing there with her face buried in her hands. He wanted to go to her then, but he was rooted to his spot by the bed, close enough that he could reach out and touch Charlie if he wanted to.
He wanted to. He wanted to touch his living, breathing boy. No, it didn't help that this was mere memory, Jack could feel the pain as fresh as the day it had happened. He reached out to touch the still warm body of his son, clasped his hand around the boy's arm. And unlike the day that it had happened, he finally cried.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Sam was holed up in the bunk room. After nine days on the tel'tak, the only thing positive Sam could think was that they had less than a week until they made it to the colonel. She was completely over every aspect of the ship, not the least of which was the way her father kept looking at her. Like he was studying her. Like he was trying to find the chinks in her armor. She didn't like being under such scrutiny and this was the second time when the colonel was involved that scrutiny was exactly what she was subjected to. Why couldn't her thoughts and feelings just be her own? It wasn't like she'd said or done anything inappropriate about them.
As a matter of fact, once she'd realized how she felt, she'd been damned careful. She'd been conscious of the easy flirting they'd seemed to engage in and tried very hard not to read too much into it. Even still, it had come as a painful surprise when she'd seen him with Laira. Even though she'd tried not to read into the flirting, she'd apparently built something up in her mind between them.
After that, though, it had been easy to remember that he didn't feel anything for her. And after that damnable undercover mission, it had most certainly been easy. He'd apologized, said he hadn't meant what he said, but she couldn't unhear it, or unsee that look on his face as he'd said it. Oh, he meant it, all right. She'd been a fool. But even knowing that didn't make it easy for her to turn off the feelings she had for him.
Jack O'Neill was a singular sort of man. A man she couldn't help but be attracted to. She was certain people wouldn't get the attraction or would think it was merely physical, but it was so much more than that. She liked who he was as a person. Or, at least, she thought she had. Her ultimate faith in him had most certainly been shaken by recent events.
She was staring at the ceiling, lounging on one of the bunks, when she heard the door to the room slide open.
"There you are," Daniel said.
"I haven't been hiding."
"I don't think that's true," he chided gently. "Did something happen between you and your dad? Things seem... strained."
"Everything is fine." She didn't bother to look at him.
"Okay," he drawled slowly. Clearly he didn't believe her. Perhaps she should have met his eye. "I've got books, if you want to read."
"No, thank you."
"Do you want to talk?"
She sighed. "Not really."
"Are you sure everything is okay?"
"Yes, Daniel," she said a little more sharply than she'd really intended.
He huffed and sat down on one of the beds on the other side of the room. "Is this about Jack?"
"What?"
"Are you worried?"
"Of course I'm worried. Aren't you?"
"Well, yeah."
They both stayed quiet for a long moment until Daniel broke the silence. "Tell me if I'm out of line here, and Janet has already told me it's complicated, but I think you should tell Jack how you feel."
"One, you're out of line. Two, I don't feel any way except edgy because we don't know what we're walking into."
"I'm not sure if you're just lying to me or if you're lying to yourself, too."
"What do you want from me?" she pleaded quietly.
"I just want you to be happy, Sam."
"I'll be happy when we get the colonel off that planet."
"I meant in a general sense."
"I am happy. Generally."
"You haven't seemed happy in months now."
"I've been overworked. In case you hadn't noticed, I've been busy attempting to rescue a man who keeps getting himself stranded offworld."
"You're always overworked – you're the only one who knows the gate like you do. This has been different."
She thought she'd done such a good job of hiding her feelings – of hiding everything – that this conversation was both blindsiding her and very uncomfortable. But she didn't know how to make him stop without confirming any of his suspicions.
She suddenly zeroed in on something he'd said. "What did you mean that Janet told you it was complicated?"
"When I asked her why you and Jack couldn't just... you know."
"You're the reason she wanted to know if... Jesus, Daniel. You need to stay out of this. What you implied to another officer in the Air Force could very well get me court-martialed."
"Well, maybe if you guys just talked about it-"
She sat up and looked him square in the eye. "There's nothing to talk about. I do not have inappropriate feelings for my superior officer. Do you understand me?"
He regarded her carefully as if trying to decide whether or not to play along. Finally he nodded once and said, "Okay."
She gave him one last steely look and then lay back down.
"I understand now," he said quietly and then got up and left the room.
Sam realized, then, that she was trembling. Daniel's nose was a little too close to the scent for her comfort. Hopefully he really did understand and would just stop talking about it, period. Sam vowed to get things under control – if Daniel had figured out how she felt, then she was doing a piss-poor job of keeping it together.
It was hard enough handling her ranging feelings inside herself. But now, her father and Daniel both had picked up on it. Janet, too, though now she suspected that Janet knew by way of Daniel. That was three more people than she was comfortable with. She cared a great deal what her father thought about her and she didn't want to be that woman who fell for a superior officer, but she didn't have any control over it. She didn't want him to be disappointed in her, but what could she do besides deny, deny, deny?
Janet knew the score and held the power to change the course of Sam's career forever. Daniel did too, though she was still not sure he really understood the ramifications of Sam's feelings and what would happen if word got out.
She sighed and turned onto her side to face the wall. She didn't think she'd get any sleep, but she could try. And at least, for a while, be away from prying eyes and knowing looks.