Jack leaned against the doorframe of the guest room, arms crossed, watching Sam stuff her laptop into a bag with her good hand. Her movements were deliberate and tense, and she barely glanced up when he cleared his throat.
"You planning to camp out in here all night?" he asked casually, but his tone had an undercurrent of tension.
Sam glanced up briefly, her brows furrowed.
"I'm staying out of your way since you don't let me go to my house," she replied, her voice sharper than she intended. "The kids are in their room; Daniel and Vala are downstairs, and this keeps the peace. It's fine."
Jack straightened, his frustration simmering just below the surface.
"Yeah, because avoiding everyone is the best way to keep the peace, right?"
Her lips thinned, but she didn't reply, shoving the laptop deeper into her bag. Jack sighed, stepping further into the room.
"This isn't working, Sam," he said, his voice low. "You're hurt, you're exhausted, and you're acting like you can just handle all of this on your own. But you can't. And you don't have to."
Sam froze, her fingers tightening on the strap of her bag.
"I don't know how else to do this, Jack," she admitted, her voice cracking. "Everything I touch falls apart."
The rawness in her voice stopped him cold. For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at her. When he finally spoke, his tone was softer.
"That's not true, Carter. Not everything."
She looked up at him then, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"It feels like it."
Jack closed the distance between them, his voice steady and quiet.
"Then let me help. We've got enough enemies without you adding yourself to the list."
The ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, fleeting but real.
"You always know how to make a girl feel better."
"It's a gift," he said lightly, but the warmth in his tone belied his words.
Sam hesitated, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her voice lowered almost imperceptibly.
"It's not just the injuries or the stress," she admitted. "There are… other things. Decisions I made when I started CQS. There are things I'm not sure I can ever fully explain. And now…" She trailed off, shaking her head as if trying to dismiss the weight of her words.
Jack tilted his head, his brows knitting together.
"What kind of things?"
Sam hesitated, avoiding his gaze.
"Just decisions that felt right at the time," she said carefully. "But now they're… complicated."
Jack studied her momentarily before stepping back slightly, giving her space.
"Complicated isn't a new concept for us," he said with a wry smile. "But if there's something you're worried about, Carter, you don't have to handle it alone. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out."
Her lips twitched, but she didn't reply immediately. Instead, she tightened her grip on her bag and nodded.
"I'll keep that in mind," she murmured.
Jack watched her for a moment longer, sensing there was more she wasn't saying. But he knew better than to push—not tonight, anyway.
"Besides, Daniel and Vala need the guest room," Jack said. "So, that leaves three options: the couch, the air mattress in the basement, or the bed."
Sam sighed, exasperated. "Then I'll take the couch."
"No, you won't," Jack said firmly.
Her brow furrowed. "Why not?"
Jack stepped further into the room, his tone sharp but not unkind.
"Because you're injured, Sam. You're not sleeping on a lumpy couch that'll leave you more sore than you already are. And don't suggest the air mattress—it's barely a step up from sleeping on the floor."
Sam opened her mouth to argue, but Jack held up a hand, cutting her off.
"You need a real bed," he said, his voice quieter now but no less insistent. "And there's only one in this house that's available."
Sam's cheeks flushed.
"Jack, we're divorced. I can't—"
"Stop," he interrupted, taking another step closer. "I'm not asking you to move back in. I'm asking you to take care of yourself, just this once. Sleep in the damn bed."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she dropped her gaze, clearly wrestling with the decision.
"What about you?"
"I'll be there too," Jack said simply. "It's a big bed, Carter. We've handled worse off-world."
Sam let out a short, incredulous laugh.
"This isn't off-world, Jack."
"No," Jack agreed, his tone softening, "but you're hurt, and we've got a maniac breathing down our necks. Let's not make this more complicated than it needs to be."
Sam hesitated, glancing at the sling supporting her arm. She hated that he was right, hated how much sense he made, but there was no denying the truth. She needed the rest. And a real bed.
"Fine," she said, her voice barely audible. "But just for tonight."
"Just for tonight," Jack echoed with a faint smirk as if he knew she was lying to herself.
Sam looked down at her feet, her voice trembling.
"It seemed easier this way."
Jack exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.
"Well, it's not easier. Not for me. And not for you, if you'd admit it."
Sam's head snapped up, her eyes flashing.
"Do you want me to say I miss you? That I can't stand how far apart we've grown?"
Jack stared at her, his heart clenching at the raw emotion in her voice.
"It wouldn't hurt to hear it."
Her expression softened, the fight draining out of her.
"And what about you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you miss me, Jack? Or are you just tolerating me because of the boys?"
Jack stepped even closer, closing the gap between them.
"I miss you every damn day, Sam. But I'm not gonna lie and say I'm not angry. I am. I'm angry at you for shutting me out and choosing your work over our family. But more than that, I'm angry at myself—for not fighting harder to stop it from getting this bad."
Tears welled in Sam's eyes, and she looked away.
"I didn't know how to balance it all. And by the time I realized what I was doing, it felt too late."
"It's not too late," Jack said, his voice softening. "It's never too late, Carter. But we've gotta stop running in opposite directions."
Sam met his gaze, searching his face for the sincerity she desperately needed to see. Slowly, she nodded.
"Okay."
Sam took the linens from him, brushing past them as she headed toward the guest room to pack her things. Jack watched her go, his chest tightening with hope and trepidation. They still had a long way to go, but at least they weren't standing still anymore.
After some minutes, Sam stepped into the main bedroom she hadn't entered since the divorce. It looked the same, yet it didn't. The bed was neatly made, and a single book on the nightstand was the only sign that anyone had used the space. She stood awkwardly by the doorway, unsure where to go or what to do.
Jack brushed past her, heading to the dresser.
"Relax, Carter. It's just a bed."
"Easy for you to say," she muttered, setting her bag on a chair.
Jack ignored her comment, pulling a spare T-shirt from the drawer and tossing it on the bed.
"Here. In case you want to change. I'll give you some space."
She watched as he moved toward the door, his casual tone doing little to mask the tension in his shoulders.
"Jack."
He paused, one hand on the frame, and turned back to her. "Yeah?"
Sam hesitated, the words sticking in her throat. Finally, she settled on, "Thanks."
Jack's expression softened just a bit, and he nodded.
"Goodnight, Carter."
"Goodnight," she replied, quiet as he closed the door behind him.
She changed into the T-shirt he'd left, the familiar fabric a strange comfort against her skin. Sliding into the bed, Sam stared at the ceiling, the weight of the day pressing down on her. The mattress she had chosen because of their different body temperatures was firm but inviting, and despite her reluctance, her body welcomed the relief.
She was drifting toward sleep when she heard the door open again. Jack slipped inside, creeping to the other side of the bed. He slid under the covers without a word, keeping to his side, his movements careful and measured.
They lay in silence; the only sounds were the faint hum of the air conditioner and their steady breathing. The space between them felt vast, a chasm filled with unspoken words and unresolved history.
Sam shifted slightly, wincing as her injured arm protested. Jack noticed immediately.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice low.
"Yeah," she murmured. "Just getting comfortable."
Jack didn't respond, but she felt the bed shift as he turned toward her. The air between them seemed to hum with tension, but neither spoke.
As the minutes stretched into hours, Sam finally whispered, "This doesn't change anything, Jack."
"No," he said quietly. "But maybe it's a start."
Sam didn't reply, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as her heart warred with her head. She didn't know if he was right—or if she wanted him to be.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden, casting a warm glow over the room. Sam stirred first, blinking against the brightness. It took her a moment to orient herself, the unfamiliar comfort of the mattress and the scent of clean linen reminding her where she was.
Jack's bedroom. Their bedroom, once upon a time.
She turned her head slightly, finding him still asleep on his side of the bed. His face was relaxed, free of the tension that had etched into his features over the past few years. It was a rare sight—peaceful, almost vulnerable—and stirred something profound within her that she wasn't ready to examine.
Sam shifted, trying to tiptoe, but the faint creak of the mattress betrayed her. Jack's eyes fluttered open, and they stared at each other momentarily. The shared bed, the intimacy of the moment—it was a fragile truce, and both knew it.
"Morning," he said, his voice rough with sleep but warmer than she expected.
"Morning," she replied, shifting cautiously.
He studied her momentarily, the quiet between them weighted with unspoken words. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, tying his boots with deliberate care, his movements unhurried but purposeful.
Sam watched him momentarily, her arms wrapped loosely around her knees.
"Jack," she said quietly, breaking the silence.
He glanced over his shoulder, his expression neutral but attentive. "Yeah?"
She hesitated, the weight of unspoken words pressing against her chest. "About last night…"
Jack turned fully to face her, his brow lifting slightly. "What about it?"
"Thank you," she said simply, her voice steady despite the turmoil beneath the surface. "For staying. For… everything."
His lips quirked in a faint smile. "You don't have to thank me, Carter. We're in this together, whether you like it or not."
Her lips twitched, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Still, I… I appreciate it."
Jack stood, brushing his hands against his thighs before crossing the room. He paused at the doorway, glancing back at her.
"We've been in tougher spots than this, Carter."
She smiled faintly.
"Yeah, but we always had a clear enemy back then. This... it's messier."
Jack nodded, his tone serious now.
"Messy doesn't mean impossible. We made a good team once. We still can."
"How's the shoulder?"
"Stiff," she admitted, rotating it slightly. "But better."
"Good," he said, his gaze lingering a moment longer. "Coffee?"
Sam hesitated, the offer mundane but weighted by the history between them. "Sure."
Jack nodded and left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She stared at the space where he had been, the slight dip in the mattress a stark reminder of the years they had shared—and the year they hadn't. She let out a shaky breath, pressing her uninjured hand to her temple.
"Just for tonight," she whispered as if saying it aloud would make it feel less significant.
The faint murmur of voices downstairs reminded her they weren't alone in the house. Jack's footsteps echoed down the hall, his voice low as he said something to Daniel.
Sam swung her legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the protest of her injured arm as she pulled herself together. There wasn't time for wallowing—not when Kane was still out there. Not when lives depended on them.
Before going downstairs, Sam lingered in the hallway outside the guest room, her hand resting lightly on the doorframe. From inside, she could hear Jake's familiar voice narrating something animatedly, accompanied by occasional giggles from Benji.
She entered to find the twins sitting on the bed, surrounded by crayons and scattered papers. Jake was mid-story, gesturing wildly with a blue crayon, while Benji giggled, holding up a partially colored drawing.
"Mom!" Jake exclaimed, lighting up at her entrance. "Look at what we made!"
Benji scrambled to his feet, holding up the paper proudly. "It's us! See? That's me and Jake and you—and Daddy, too!"
Sam's throat tightened as she took the picture. The twins had drawn their family, standing together under a bright sun. Jake had added little details like a spaceship in the sky and what looked like a dog at their feet—Benji's addition, no doubt.
"It's amazing," Sam said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You guys did a great job."
Benji beamed, bouncing a little. "Do you think we'll really get a dog someday?"
Sam chuckled, brushing his hair back gently. "Maybe. Someday."
Jake leaned closer, his expression turning serious. "Mom, are you okay? You look... tired."
The question hit her harder than expected, and she hesitated before answering.
"I'm okay, Jake," she said quietly. "Just a lot on my mind."
"You're working hard to keep us safe, right?" Benji asked, his voice small but sure. "Like a superhero."
Sam's chest tightened, and she hugged them both gently. "I don't know about that," she said with a soft laugh. "But I'm trying. For you two."
Jake pulled back slightly, his face filled with determination.
"We're proud of you, Mom. Right, Benji?"
Benji nodded eagerly. "Yeah! Even Jake said it first."
Sam let out a shaky laugh, her heart swelling. "Thank you. That means the world to me."
"Are you going to stop the bad guy?" Jake asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.
Sam smiled faintly. "That's the plan. But I need you two to listen to Uncle Daniel and Aunt Vala while I'm working, okay? They're in charge."
Jake and Benji nodded, though Benji frowned slightly. "Will you be back soon?"
Sam kissed both their foreheads, pulling them close one more time.
"I promise. Now finish coloring that picture so I can see it when I'm done."
As she stepped out of the room, the faint sound of the boys discussing what color to use for the spaceship followed her. The picture lingered in her mind—a reminder of what she was fighting for.
A few moments later, she descended the stairs, steeling herself for the shift from personal vulnerability to professional resolve. The kitchen smelled of coffee and toast when Sam finally emerged, dressed in fresh clothes she'd retrieved from her bag. Jack was at the stove, flipping pancakes, while Daniel had a mug at the table. Vala leaned against the counter, nibbling on a piece of bacon.
"Morning," Daniel greeted, his tone neutral but his eyes curious.
"Morning," Sam replied, sliding into a chair.
Vala tilted her head, her gaze darting between Sam and Jack.
"You look remarkably well-rested, darling. That bed must be magic."
Jack snorted, turning back to the stove. "It's just a bed, Vala."
"Is it?" Vala teased her smile sly.
Sam felt her cheeks heat but didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she reached for the coffee Jack had set on the table.
"What's the plan for today?"
Jack placed a plate of pancakes in front of her without comment before answering.
"Teal'c's due to arrive this afternoon. Until then, I'll be working on fortifying the perimeter. Sam, I figured you'd want to keep tracking Kane's signals and coordinate with your stuffed COO."
Sam nodded, focusing on her coffee.
"I've got a few leads. I can set up in the den and call Natalie."
"Perfect," Jack said, his tone businesslike. But when their eyes met, something unspoken passed between them—a fleeting acknowledgment of the night they'd shared under the same roof, in the same bed.
Daniel, who had been studying the blueprints Jack had given him the day before, decided to step in. "Kane's obsession with quantum entanglement might not just be about power," he said, his voice thoughtful. "He's operating like someone trying to prove a philosophical point—a zealot."
Sam, seated stiffly on the chair, looked up, her brow creased. "A zealot who believes in wiping out millions to prove his theories," she murmured.
Daniel's gaze softened. "And that's why you need to stop blaming yourself. He's been unhinged from the start. You stopping his project probably saved countless lives. Don't let him take that from you, too."
Sam bit her lip and drank the rest of her coffee.
Hours later, after Daniel and Vala had taken the twins to the park, the house was quiet again. Jack found Sam in the den, her laptop open and her fingers flying over the keyboard. She was engrossed, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"You're supposed to be resting," Jack said, leaning against the doorway. He sounded like a broken record, but he didn't care.
Sam didn't look up. "I'm fine."
"Sam," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.
She sighed, leaning back in her chair.
"What do you want me to say, Jack? That I'm tired? That I'm overwhelmed? None of that's going to stop Kane."
"No," he agreed, stepping into the room. "But taking care of yourself might give you a better shot at stopping him."
Sam's lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked away. Jack crossed the room, pulling up a chair beside her.
"I know you don't want to be here," he said quietly. "In this house. In this... situation."
Her gaze snapped to his, sharp and defensive. "That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" he countered. "You left, Sam. And I get it. I really do. But now you're here, and we've got bigger problems than whatever went wrong between us."
Sam swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over her.
"I didn't leave because I didn't care, Jack."
"Then why did you?" he asked, his voice low but intense.
She hesitated, her fingers curling into fists on her lap.
"Because I didn't know how to stay. I didn't know how to be the person you needed me to be while still being... me."
Jack leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.
"You think I wanted some perfect version of you? I married you, Sam: the good, the bad, all of it. And yeah, we screwed it up. But don't tell me you left for my sake."
Her eyes glistened, but she didn't let the tears fall.
"I thought I was doing the right thing. For both of us."
Jack sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"Well, look where that got us."
The silence that followed was heavy, but it wasn't hopeless. They were talking for the first time in years—not shouting, not blaming, just... talking.
"We're not going to fix this overnight," Sam said eventually, her voice soft.
"No," Jack agreed. "But maybe we can start."
Sam nodded, her expression unreadable. "Maybe."
The den had gone quiet again, save for Sam's laptop's soft hum and the clock's rhythmic ticking on the wall. Jack hadn't left after their conversation, sitting instead in the chair across from her, arms crossed, his expression thoughtful.
"Do you ever wonder," he said suddenly, breaking the silence, "how we ended up here?"
Sam's fingers paused over the keyboard, her brows knitting together.
"You mean... here, as in this house? Or here, as in... us?"
"Both," Jack said with a shrug, his tone deceptively casual though his eyes betrayed the question's weight.
Sam leaned back, folding her arms as she stared at the screen, the light reflecting off her tired eyes. "I think about it all the time," she admitted. "But I'm still working on the answer."
Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Working? You're a genius, Carter. You always have answers."
A faint smile tugged at her lips, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. She was reluctant to tell him she was doing therapy, but she wanted to. She decided to be honest for once.
Sam's shoulders stiffened slightly, but she didn't meet his gaze.
"Not for this," she murmured. After a beat, she added, "I'm doing therapy."
Jack blinked, caught off guard. "Therapy?" he echoed.
She nodded, finally looking up at him. "Yeah. I started a while ago. I... I needed to figure out some things. About myself. About us."
Jack's expression softened, his voice losing its usual sharp edge.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wasn't sure how you'd react," Sam admitted, trembling slightly. "And honestly, I wasn't ready to talk about it. Not until I could make sense of everything."
Jack nodded slowly, taking in her words. "Is it helping?"
Sam managed a small smile.
"It's not easy, but... yeah, I think it is. I've been carrying so much guilt and fear for so long. It's like... I'm finally starting to unpack it."
Jack studied her, the flicker of hope in her eyes stirring something within him.
"I'm glad you're doing it, Sam. You deserve that."
Her smile widened slightly, and the air between them felt lighter for a brief moment. The gap that had grown over the years narrowed just a bit.
Jack seemed to consider her words momentarily before glancing down at his hands. Then, as if also testing the waters, he said, "You know, I've been spending some time at the animal shelter."
Sam's head tilted, surprise flashing in her eyes. "The one near the supermarket?"
"Yeah," he said with a slight nod. "I started going a few months ago, whenever I can. Helping out, walking the dogs, that sort of thing."
Sam's eyebrows lifted, and her expression softened. "I remember you always talked about wanting to do that."
"Yeah, well, never had the time back then," Jack said, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "But now... I don't know. It just felt like the right thing to do."
Sam's gaze lingered on him, her voice warm with pride. "Have you adopted one yet?"
Jack chuckled, leaning back in his chair.
"Not yet. But there's this scruffy little mutt—looks like he got in a fight with a bush and lost. He's got a lot of personality for a little guy. I'm thinking about it."
Sam's lips curved into a genuine smile, and her eyes glistened faintly.
"That's really great, Jack. I'm proud of you."
Her words seemed to catch him off guard, and he glanced down briefly before meeting her eyes again. "It's been... good for me. They don't expect much from you, you know? Just kindness. It's grounding."
Sam nodded, her tone soft. "Sounds like it's been helping."
Jack exhaled and looked away momentarily, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest.
"It has. And... it's not the only thing I've been doing."
Sam tilted her head, curiosity replacing the softness in her gaze. "Oh?"
Jack hesitated, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I've been going to church."
Sam blinked, surprised. "Church?"
"Not for Mass or anything," he clarified quickly. "I just... sit there. Think. Reflect. It's quiet, and for some reason, it helps clear my head."
Sam studied him momentarily, the surprise in her expression giving way to something deeper.
"When did you start?"
"Around the same time I started at the shelter," Jack said, his voice quiet but steady. "After everything... with us, with the boys... I guess I needed to figure some things out."
Her voice dropped to a gentle murmur. "Jack..."
He met her gaze, his expression earnest. "I'm not saying it fixes everything. But it's been... good. It makes me think about things differently. About what's important."
Sam's breath caught, and she leaned forward slightly, her hands curling together in her lap.
"I had no idea."
"I didn't think you needed to," Jack said faintly. "But then you told me about the therapy, and I figured... I don't know. If you can be honest about what you're working on, maybe I can too."
Sam released a shaky breath, her chest tightening with the weight of his words.
"It means a lot to me that you told me. And I'm glad you found something that works for you, Jack."
He gave a slight, self-conscious shrug, but there was warmth in his expression.
"We're both trying, Carter. That's gotta count for something."
Sam managed a soft smile, her gaze steady on his. "Yeah. It does."
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable but thoughtful—a quiet moment shared between two people who were beginning to find their way back to each other despite the wounds of the past.
Sam closed the laptop, turning her full attention to him.
"You know, I didn't leave because I stopped loving you."
Jack's head snapped up, his eyes locking onto hers. "You have a funny way of showing it."
Her jaw tightened, but she pushed past the sting of his words.
"I left because I thought I was holding you back. You were always here, taking care of the boys, making sacrifices. And I... I didn't know how to be the person you needed while being true to myself."
Jack frowned, his voice low. "Sam, I never wanted you to be anyone but you."
She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "It didn't feel like enough."
Jack stared at her, the weight of her admission sinking in. He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly.
"You know what the worst part is? I get it. I get why you felt that way. But damn it, Sam, you didn't have to go through it alone."
Sam's breath hitched, her hands tightening into fists on her lap.
"I thought I was protecting you. And the boys. But all I did was hurt you."
Jack leaned forward again, his tone gentler this time.
"Yeah, you did. But you know what? I'm still here. And so are you. So maybe it's not too late to figure this out."
She looked at him, her blue eyes filled with hope and uncertainty.
"How? We've tried already and failed, Jack. It ended in divorce."
Jack shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"I know, but we can try again. One step at a time, Carter. One conversation, one compromise... one night of sharing a bed without killing each other."
Sam chuckled softly, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. "It's a start."
Jack nodded, his gaze steady. "Yeah, it is."
The house was quiet, except for Daniel and Vala's faint conversation downstairs in the kitchen. Jack wandered through the hallway, checking doors as he passed. The presence of the airmen stationed around the property was reassuring, but the weight of their situation was heavy in his chest.
He found Sam in the living room, curled up in the armchair by the window, a blanket draped over her legs. The laptop she'd been working on earlier was closed on the side table, and she was staring at the bookshelf across the room, lost in thought.
"You shouldn't be alone right now," Jack said as he entered the room.
Sam looked up, her lips curving in a faint smile. "I'm not. You're here now."
He let out a soft huff, crossing the room to lean against the back of the couch. "Smartass."
She shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
"Needed a break from the den. And the stairs are a little tricky with this sling."
Jack tilted his head, studying her. "You okay?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "Just... thinking."
"Dangerous habit," he quipped, the corner of his mouth lifting in a familiar smirk.
Sam chuckled softly, shaking her head.
"I was thinking about the first time I came to this house. Do you remember?"
Jack straightened slightly, his expression softening.
"Yeah. You hated the kitchen."
Sam laughed, a real laugh this time.
"It was awful. The cabinets didn't match, and the sink leaked."
"And I fixed it," Jack said, a touch of pride in his voice.
"With duct tape," Sam reminded him.
"Hey, it worked," Jack replied, his grin widening. "For a while."
The shared memory hung between them, warm and bittersweet. Jack moved to the armchair opposite hers and sat down, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward.
"You know," he said after a moment, "I thought this house was gonna be our forever home."
Sam's smile faded, her gaze dropping to the blanket. "So did I."
Jack sighed, running a hand over his face. "I screwed it up, didn't I? All of it."
Sam looked up, startled by the vulnerability in his tone.
"No, Jack. We both did. I didn't make it easy for you."
Jack leaned back, resting his hands on the armrests.
"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly fight hard enough to stop you from leaving, either."
The silence that followed was heavy but not suffocating. It felt like they were on the same page for the first time in a long time, even if it was painful.
"Do you think..." Sam began, hesitating as she searched for the right words. "Do you think we can fix it? Us?"
Jack's eyes softened, and he nodded slowly.
"I think we can try. But it's gonna take work, Carter. And patience."
Sam let out a soft breath, her shoulders relaxing a fraction.
"Patience isn't exactly my strong suit."
Jack smirked. "No kidding."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered.
"For what it's worth, I'm willing to try again. If you are."
Jack nodded, leaning forward again. "Yeah. I am."
Their gazes met, the warmth of their shared history flickering to life again. It wasn't a resolution but a start—a fragile truce in the middle of the storm.
The low rumble of a vehicle approaching the house cut through the quiet. Jack stood at the front window, arms crossed, watching a black SUV pull into the driveway. Two airmen near the perimeter stepped forward to verify the vehicle before waving it through.
Jack turned toward the living room, where Sam was seated with her laptop again, her fingers poised but unmoving.
"He's here," Jack said.
Sam looked up, her expression a mix of relief and trepidation.
"Good. We're going to need him."
Jack's gaze lingered on the window as the SUV's door opened, and a familiar figure stepped out. Teal'c's presence on Earth had initially surprised Jack, but he understood the need for it. After years of leading the Free Jaffa Nation through turmoil and rebuilding, Teal'c finally took a step back.
Initially, Teal'c's return had been meant as a reprieve, a chance to visit old friends and rest after years of war and political strife. But something about Earth had drawn him in. Its more straightforward rhythms, its people—Teal'c had found a strange solace here. He had settled in a small apartment near a martial arts dojo where he taught classes, offering wisdom and calm to those who sought his guidance. It was a quiet life, far removed from his days of fighting alongside SG-1 and the Jaffa Nation, but one that allowed him to reflect and heal.
Jack had been the first person Teal'c reached out to upon returning. Their reunion over coffee at a diner had been a rare, unguarded moment, the kind of honesty only shared by those who had fought and bled together. Jack, in turn, had ensured Teal'c's presence remained low-profile, quietly coordinated through Hank Landry's old connections.
Now, seeing Teal'c step out of the SUV, Jack felt a familiar sense of steadiness return. Even after all these years, Teal'c's mere presence could ground him. Jack opened the door as Teal'c approached, his formidable frame filling the doorway. The years hadn't dulled the warrior's presence—if anything, they had only added to his gravitas.
"O'Neill," Teal'c greeted with a nod, his deep voice resonating in the quiet.
"Teal'c," Jack said, a rare smile breaking through. "You made good time."
"I came as swiftly as I could," Teal'c replied, stepping inside and glancing around the room. His gaze landed on Sam, who had risen from her seat.
"Come on in. We've got a lot to catch you up on," Jack said with a pat on his shoulder.
Teal'c stepped inside, his sharp gaze immediately scanning the space, taking in the guarded tension that seemed to permeate the air.
"Teal'c," she said, offering a small smile. "It's good to see you."
"It is good to see you as well, Samantha Carter," Teal'c said, inclining his head. "I trust you are recovering from your injuries?"
"I'm managing," Sam replied, glancing at Jack. "Thanks for coming."
Teal'c's expression softened, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips.
"You are my family. There is nowhere else I would be."
After the debate about where Teal'c would sleep and the insistence that he would take the couch with no problem at all despite Jack's protests and Sam's plea that they could buy another air mattress, Jack, Sam, Teal'c, and Daniel gathered in the den around a spread of maps, schematics, and Sam's open laptop. Vala sat nearby, half-listening, as she entertained the twins with a set of crayons and paper.
"Here's what we know," Sam began, pointing to a map on the table. Her phone buzzed a message from Natalie flashing on the screen: 'New intel. Kane's movement was confirmed near the industrial complex. Call me ASAP.'
She picked up her phone, quickly dialing Natalie while forwarding the message to her laptop. She put the phone on speaker as it rang, her fingers flying over the keyboard to pull up the forwarded data.
"Hi, it's Sam. What's up?" she asked.
"Boss," Natalie's voice came through, sharp and focused. "I just sent you updated intel. Kane's been operating out of an industrial complex on the edge of town. We've confirmed movement consistent with his recent patterns."
"Got it. I'm pulling it up now," Sam said, glancing at Jack, who had leaned over to scrutinize the map. "What are we dealing with, Natalie?"
"High-tech surveillance, automated drones, and ground forces—likely mercenaries," Natalie replied. "They're rotating shifts irregularly, making it difficult to predict their movements. But I managed to isolate a pattern in their infrared scans."
Jack muttered, "Of course she did," earning a faint smile from Sam.
Natalie continued, "The weak point is here," Sam highlighted the area Natalie referenced on her laptop. "Their system recalibrates every ten minutes, leaving a three-minute window of decreased coverage. You'll need to move fast."
"That's what I said earlier," Sam noted, looking up at Jack. "But now we have confirmation."
Jack frowned. "Three minutes is cutting it too close. If we miss that window—"
"We won't," Sam interrupted. "The loop Natalie identified gives us an opening. If I trigger it remotely—"
"Wait," Daniel interjected, his brow furrowed as he studied the screen. "If their recalibration is automated, how do we know triggering a loop won't alert them? That might compromise the mission before we even get there."
"That's a risk," Natalie admitted, her voice tinged with urgency. "But it's the only viable option unless you want to storm the place guns blazing."
Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "The latter approach would be unwise. Kane's forces will undoubtedly be prepared for such tactics."
Jack crossed his arms. "Yeah, but we can't bet the whole mission on a single signal loop. What if it fails? What's Plan B?"
Sam's jaw tightened. "If it fails, we retreat. I'll have a secondary signal queued to create another disruption, but we'd have to wait at least ten more minutes for another opening."
"That's assuming we're not spotted during the wait," Jack said, his tone edged with frustration.
"Jack," Sam said, her voice steely. "This is our best shot. Unless you have another idea?"
Natalie, still on the line, added, "She's right. This isn't ideal, but it's the best strategy given the circumstances. You need to trust her."
"I trust her," Jack snapped, his tone sharp before softening. "I just don't like the odds."
Sam glanced at him, her expression softening momentarily before she returned to the group. "We've worked with worse odds before. And if we work together, we'll make this happen."
Daniel hesitated, then nodded.
"Sam's right. We've done crazier things."
Jack let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair.
"Fine. But no heroics, Carter. Teal'c, Daniel, and I will handle the infiltration."
Sam frowned. "Jack—"
"Don't argue," Jack cut her off. "You're still recovering, and I'm not putting you in the line of fire."
Teal'c interjected, his voice calm but firm.
"O'Neill is correct, Samantha Carter. Your expertise is best utilized from a secure location."
Sam opened her mouth to protest but stopped when she caught Teal'c's steady gaze. She sighed, nodding reluctantly.
"Fine. I can run the loop remotely from here," Sam replied, her voice steady. "Vala can also stay here to monitor communications and care for the boys."
Vala raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me? Why am I on babysitting duty?"
"Because we need someone sharp on comms," Sam said firmly. "And you're the best one for the job."
Vala's lips twitched into a smirk. "Flattery will get you everywhere, darling. Fine, I'll stay."
Jack glanced at Natalie's name on the phone screen. "Natalie, anything else we should know?"
"Just one thing," Natalie said. Her voice dropped, the tone serious. "If Kane gets wind of this, he's likely to go scorched earth. Be ready for heavy resistance."
Jack's expression hardened. "We always are."
"Good luck, guys," Natalie said before the line clicked off.
The room was silent for a beat, the weight of the mission settling over them.
Jack exhaled, clearly relieved. "Good. Let's take five and then regroup."
The room began to clear as the team stepped away to take a break, leaving their chairs pushed back and coffee cups abandoned on the table. Sam remained behind, her hands resting on the surface, her gaze locked on the map as if searching for answers it couldn't provide.
Teal'c, ever perceptive, stepped closer. His calm presence filled the space, easing some of the weight she carried.
"You seem troubled," he observed.
Sam let out a soft laugh. "That obvious?"
"To me, it is," Teal'c said. "You carry the burden of this mission—and the weight of your past—with great heaviness. I am saddened to learn of the divorce between you and O'Neill."
Sam met his gaze, her voice quiet.
"Yeah…It's not just the mission. It's... everything. Jack, the boys, the mistakes I made... It feels like it's all crashing down at once."
Teal'c inclined his head.
"You have endured much, Samantha Carter. But you are not alone in this. Nor is O'Neill."
She looked away, her voice tinged with regret.
"Sometimes it feels like we're so far apart, I don't even know where to start."
Teal'c placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"The distance between you is not insurmountable. You and O'Neill have faced greater challenges together. This, too, can be overcome—if you both choose to face it."
Sam nodded, Teal'c's words grounding her in the present.
"Thanks," she said softly.
Teal'c offered a rare smile. "Together, Samantha Carter. Always."