From the kitchen window, Sam watched the boys in the yard.
Benji sat at the edge of the yard, picking at the grass. His usual chatter was absent, replaced by a quiet that felt almost unnatural. When Jake called for him to play, he only shrugged and muttered, "Maybe later."
It took all Jake's tricks to get his brother to play with him, and soon Jake darted through the grass, his laughter echoing as Benji gave chase. But something was off. Benji's usual exuberance was absent—his movements were stiff, his eyes fixed more on the ground than his brother.
"He's been like that all morning," Jack said, stepping beside her with his coffee. "Barely said a word."
Sam's stomach tightened. "You think he knows?"
Jack leaned against the counter, his gaze heavy. "Kids aren't stupid, Sam. Especially ours."
Sam turned away from the window, guilt tugging at her. She wanted to believe she could fix this, but Jack's words were a warning: tread carefully or risk breaking what little remained.
That afternoon, the dam broke.
Sam finished helping Jake put the last puzzle piece into place when she saw Benji lingering in the doorway. His tiny hands were balled into fists, and his eyes were darker than usual. He was fixed on her with an intensity that made her chest tighten.
From the corner of her eye, Sam saw Jack glance up from the newspaper, his brow furrowing as he took in their son's rigid posture. He didn't say a word, but the look he gave Sam spoke volumes: It's coming.
He stopped a few feet from her, his fists trembling.
"Why are you still here?" he demanded, his voice sharp and trembling.
The words hit Sam like a slap, stealing the breath from her lungs. She blinked, caught off guard. "Benji, I—"
"You always leave!" he shouted, cutting her off, his voice cracking with the force of his anger. "You don't stay! You never stay! You don't even live here anymore. So why are you here now?"
Jake froze, his head tilting as he looked between them.
"Mom's here now," he offered tentatively, holding up his stuffed dog as though it were a peace offering. "She's staying, right?" Then, tilting his head, he added with the blunt honesty only a child could muster, 'Besides, you're yelling too much. You'll scare Mr. Max,' he said, pressing the stuffed dog he carried everywhere.
Sam blinked, caught between heartbreak and an almost laugh, as Benji glared at Jake.
"Shut up, Jake!' Benji snapped, his voice cracking. But the brief interjection gave Sam the breath she needed to steady herself.
Benji's glare shifted to his brother. "Shut up, Jake!" he snapped, his voice raw.
"Hey," Sam said gently, taking a cautious step forward. "Benji, I know this is hard—"
"No, you don't!" he shouted again, tears brimming in his eyes. "You don't know how hard it is! You don't care! You and Dad are divorced, and that means you leave! You always leave!"
His words hung in the air, sharp and jagged, leaving Sam feeling like the ground beneath her had crumbled. She reached out instinctively, but Benji recoiled, his tears spilling over.
Sam froze, his words slicing through her. She faltered, stepping back as her tears threatened to spill. The words hit her like a slap, each syllable peeling back a layer of her carefully constructed composure. She wanted to tell him he was wrong—that she'd always cared—but the conviction in his voice left her breathless with guilt. Was this her fault? Had she stayed away too long, convinced herself that they'd be better off without her constant presence? Every decision she'd made suddenly felt like a glaring mistake
"Maybe this was a mistake," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Benji glared at her one last time before running up the stairs. His door-slamming echoed through the house, the final punctuation to his outburst.
Sam stared upstairs, her mind stuck on the closed door, her hand still hovering midair. Daniel's low sigh from the kitchen brought her back to the moment. Daniel, hearing the rising voices in the living room, sighed heavily.
"Well, that was dramatic,' Vala said, appearing beside Daniel with a bowl of popcorn.
When Daniel shot her a warning look, she sighed. "Fine. I'll save the commentary for later. But seriously, those kids have passion." She continued to eat the popcorn, although her chest was heavy and worried.
"But...shouldn't we do something?' she asked, her voice unusually soft.
Daniel shook his head. "This isn't our fight."
Teal'c nodded solemnly. "But we remain, should they require assistance."
In the quiet that followed, Jake's small voice broke the tension. "Mom?"
Sam turned to him, tears streaming down her face. She wanted to run, to retreat from the heartbreak etched into Benji's tiny face. But running wouldn't fix this. If she left now, she'd only confirm his worst fears. She had to stay. She had to fight for him—for them. Before she could answer, Jake stepped closer, his little hands fidgeting.
"Benji's just mad. He'll be okay," he said earnestly. "Won't he?"
Sam knelt, brushing a hand through Jake's hair. "I hope so, buddy. I hope so."
From the doorway, Jack's voice was low but steady. "He will be. But not without work."
Sam looked up, her gaze meeting Jack's. The weariness in his eyes mirrored her own. She stood, wiping her tears, and followed him into the kitchen.
Daniel, Vala, and Teal'c had vanished without a sound.
Jack's voice was steady from the doorway but carried a hint of frustration. "You couldn't have thought this would be easy."
Sam looked up at him, her defenses already rising. "I'm trying, Jack. You think I don't see how hard this is for him?"
Jack set his coffee mug on the counter, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the sink.
"It's not about seeing it. It's about understanding it," he said, calm but firm. "Benji's not like Jake. He bottles everything up until it explodes. He's been holding onto this for months, maybe longer. And now that you're here, it's safe for him to let it out."
"Safe?" Sam's voice wavered, her arms folding protectively across her chest.
Jack nodded, his gaze softening. "Because you're staying. He's testing to see if you will. But if you pull back now—if you leave, even for a little while—you'll prove him right."
Sam blinked rapidly, her tears threatening to fall.
"Jack, did you see him? He hates me. My own son hates me."
Jack stepped closer, his hands gripping the counter behind him. "He doesn't hate you, Sam. He's scared. He is angry because he doesn't know how else to deal with it. You've got to show him you're not going anywhere."
Her throat tightened. "What if I mess this up?"
Jack's expression softened further, his voice dropping to a reassuring tone.
"Then you keep trying. But walking away isn't an option. Not anymore."
For a moment, the weight of his words pressed down on her, but then he added, his lips curving into a faint smirk, "Besides, he's stubborn. Wonder where he gets that from."
Despite herself, Sam let out a small, watery laugh. "Wonder."
Jack pushed off the counter, stepping away to rinse his mug. Sam lingered by the window, her eyes following the leaves in the yard. The tension in the room ebbed, leaving behind a quiet determination.
As Jack dried his hands, he glanced back at her. "We'll figure this out, Sam. One step at a time."
Sam nodded faintly, the resolve in her chest hardening. "One step at a time," she echoed.
Jack left the kitchen, his steady footsteps fading into the hall. Alone, Sam wiped her hands on a towel and began clearing the counter. The clink of dishes and the hum of the dishwasher filled the silence, grounding her as she prepared for what lay ahead.
Later, the house settled into an uneasy quiet, the tension from earlier lingering in every corner. Sam hesitated outside Benji's room, the weight of Jack's words still heavy in her chest. She knocked softly on Benji's door. When there was no response, she eased it open, finding him curled up on his bed, his face buried in his pillow.
"Hey," she said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight, but Benji didn't move.
"Go away," he mumbled, his voice muffled.
Sam hesitated but stayed put. "I'm sorry, Benji. For everything. For not being here when you needed me. For making you feel like I didn't care."
Slowly, Benji turned his face toward her, his eyes swollen and red. "You always leave," he said, his voice trembling. "How do I know you won't leave again?"
Her chest ached at the rawness of his words. She reached out, but he shrank back slightly, pulling his blanket tighter around himself like a shield.
"I can't change the past," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "But I can promise you this: I'm staying. Every day, I'll show you I'm not going anywhere. I'll prove it, Benji. I swear."
He stared at her, his tiny hands clutching the edge of his blanket as though holding on for dear life. The silence stretched, heavy and uncertain. Then, slowly, his grip loosened. His fingers trembled as he let the fabric slip, and he seemed about to lean into her momentarily, but then he stopped, his arms pulling back to hug his knees instead.
"You promise?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
"I promise," she said, her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes.
From the doorway, Jake watched quietly, his stuffed dog tucked under his arm. His expression was conflicted, a mixture of hope and uncertainty. He lingered momentarily before retreating, his tiny footsteps echoing down the hall.
Sam stayed with Benji until he fell asleep, her hand resting lightly on his blanket. Even as his breathing evened out, she couldn't shake the lingering doubt in his eyes—or her own.
Jack saw Jake pass from the hallway with his stuffed pet under his arm and go downstairs. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, and stood there, his gaze flickering between them, as Benjamin slept.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, though it was tinged with weariness. He turned quietly, leaving them alone, his footsteps retreating toward the kitchen.
Back inside the room, Sam's hand gently stroked Benji's hair. She glanced up briefly, catching sight of Jack's silhouette disappearing down the hall, and felt a quiet gratitude. She pressed a kiss to the top of Benji's head, and her heartache, soothed by the tentative trust she felt, began to bloom.
Later that afternoon, Sam sat folding laundry on the couch when Jake dashed into the room with a Nerf gun clutched in his hands.
"Mom, watch this!" he declared, firing a foam dart at the ceiling fan. It ricocheted off a blade and landed squarely in his hair.
Jake froze, cross-eyed, as he tried to see the dart sticking out of his head.
Sam stifled a laugh, setting down a neatly folded towel. "Impressive aim, buddy."
"Dad says I get it from him!" Jake announced proudly, trying to pull the dart free.
Jack called out dryly from the next room, "Absolutely not."
Sam sat at the edge of the bed, the house quiet around her. The day's heaviness pressed down on her, each moment replaying in vivid detail. Benji's words echoed in her mind: 'How do I know you won't leave again?' She didn't have an answer—at least, not one that felt strong enough to break through his doubt. But she would stay, even if it meant sitting in the shadows of his anger until he was ready to let her back in. 'One step at a time,' she murmured, though the words felt hollow in the dim light.
Jack appeared in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the hallway's dim light. "You okay?" he asked softly.
Sam glanced up, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion. "Not really. But I'm here."
Jack nodded, his face lined with concern. "We'll figure it out."
She managed a faint smile, though her heart still felt heavy. "I hope so."
As Jack turned to leave, the room felt colder, the weight of their unspoken fears lingering long after he was gone.
When it was time to go to bed, they silently agreed that Jack should go alone. As Jack tucked Jake into bed, the little boy grabbed his stuffed dog and held it tightly.
"Why's Benji so mad?" Jake asked, his wide eyes peeking over the toy. "Doesn't he want Mom to stay?"
Jack smoothed Jake's hair, his movements unhurried. "Benji's not mad, buddy. He's scared. And sometimes, when people are scared, it feels easier to be angry."
Jake frowned, the weight of Jack's words settling over him. "But I'm scared too. I don't yell at Mom."
Jack sighed, his hand resting on Jake's shoulder. "I know, and you're doing a good job being patient. But it's not your job to fix things, Jake. That's up to Mom and me."
Jake nodded slowly, his grip on the stuffed dog tightening. "I just want us to be happy again."
"Me too," Jack murmured, leaning down to kiss Jake's forehead. "Now, get some sleep, kiddo."
When Jack tucked Benji in, his eyes were closed, but his breathing told him he wasn't asleep. Goodnight, buddy," Jack whispered, leaning down to kiss Benji's forehead. Benji shifted slightly, his face turned to the wall. Jack's chest tightened, but he didn't push. "Love you, Benji," he added quietly before leaving the room.
Later that night, Jack sat at the kitchen table, his hands cradling a glass of whiskey. Teal'c had caught up with him and offered his words of wisdom that kept replaying in his mind: "Children's anger often hides fear, O'Neill. Benjamin needs time, but he also needs assurance that you and Samantha will not falter."
Sam hesitated in the doorway before stepping in, her bare feet silent against the floor.
"Can't sleep?" she asked softly.
He didn't look up, swirling the amber liquid. "No. Too much on my mind."
Sam slid into the chair across from him, waiting. Finally, he sighed.
"What if we're screwing this up, Sam? What if staying together, trying to make this work—it's worse for the boys than cutting ties?"
Her heart twisted at the vulnerability in his voice. "Jack..."
He looked at her then, his eyes weary.
"I don't want to fail them. Or us. But every time I think we're making progress, something like today happens, and it feels like we're back at square one."
Sam reached across the table, her hand covering his.
"You're not failing them. Or us. We're doing our best—and that's all we can do. If anyone is failing, it is me," she said slowly.
Jack's lips twitched in a faint, rueful smile. The weight of his love for his family anchored him. He'd keep trying whatever it took—even if the path wasn't clear.
The following day dawned crisp and bright, the morning air carrying the faint chill of winter's approach. Jack's house bustled with activity as the team prepared for their departure. The smell of cookies lingered in the air when Sam re-entered the kitchen. Jake's laughter filled the space, but Benji's wary glance caught her attention. As Sam took the cookies from the oven, Jake looked between Sam and Benji, his brow furrowed.
"Benji, you don't have to be so mad all the time,' he said, his voice hesitant but earnest. "Mom's trying."
Benji glared at him, his tone sharp. "You don't get it, Jake. Just because she's here now doesn't mean she'll stay."
Jake glanced at Sam, his face crumpling. "But... she said she would. Why can't we just try to be happy?"
Sam's heart broke at Jake's weight, his need to keep the peace etched into his small frame. She reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You don't have to fix this, Jake. That's my job."
The rest of the breakfast continued without further incidents. As the twins left to check their uncle's departure, Sam stood by the kitchen window, sipping her coffee, her eyes following the twins as they darted in and out of the hallway. The mood had turned bittersweet when Vala, Daniel, and Teal'c began loading the SUV. Teal'c placed a large duffel bag in the trunk with practiced efficiency while Daniel checked over a list on his tablet.
"You're sure you don't want to come with us?" Daniel asked, glancing at Jack as he adjusted his jacket. "A little break from the chaos might do you some good. These last days haven't been exactly easy…"
Jack shook his head, his expression resolute.
"Plenty on our plate here," Jack said, his gaze darting toward Sam, crouched on the porch, helping Jake tie his shoelaces. "Besides, you're the one who likes old books and digging through dust, not me."
Daniel smirked but didn't press further. Vala, already seated in the car, leaned out the window, waving dramatically. "Don't miss us too much, darlings. And Jack, try not to burn the house down while we're gone. Though, honestly, I wouldn't mind if you did—your taste in décor could use some work."
Jack shot her a flat look. "Touching, Vala. Truly."
Teal'c approached Jack, his towering presence calm and steady. "O'Neill, should you require assistance, you have but to ask. You know where to find me."
Jack nodded, his gratitude in his expression unspoken but unmistakable. "Thanks, T."
As the SUV rumbled to life, the twins ran to the driveway's edge, waving enthusiastically. Sam stood beside Jack, her arms crossed, her face unreadable as she watched the vehicle disappear down the long, winding road.
For a moment, there was silence, the house and yard eerily still after the team's departure. Sam exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the crisp air, but the quiet felt heavier than it should have.
"Well," she said softly, her voice almost lost in the chill of the morning, "that's that."
Jack didn't respond right away. Instead, his gaze lingered on the empty driveway, the faint hum of the SUV's engine still echoing in his ears. Finally, he turned to her, his expression unreadable.
"Not quite," he said, his voice quieter and heavier. "We've still got a lot to figure out."
Sam nodded, the weight of his words settling in her chest. Without another word, they turned and walked back toward the house. Their steps on the porch were the only noise in the stillness, a fragile reminder of how much still hung in the balance.
The following days were a mix of progress and setbacks. Jake quickly fell back into old routines with Sam, eagerly seeking her attention and affection. But Benji remained aloof, his guarded demeanor a constant reminder of the needed work.
Sam didn't push. Instead, she found small ways to show Benji she was staying. She helped him with his homework, cheered him on during his soccer game, and let him beat her at board games—though his triumphant grin suggested he didn't realize she had let him win.
One night, as Jack tucked the boys into bed, Sam hovered by the doorway, unsure if she should step in. Jake waved her over, his sleepy smile reassuring.
"Mom, can you read the story tonight?"
Sam's heart swelled as she glanced at Jack, who gave her an encouraging nod.
"Of course," she said, sitting on the edge of Jake's bed.
As she read, her voice steady and soothing, she noticed Benji watching her from his bed. His expression was unreadable, but he didn't turn away. It was a small victory, but Sam held onto it tightly.
After an afternoon of meetings at CQS, Sam returned home to find Jack in the kitchen, washing dishes, his shoulders tense and his movements deliberate. She stood there for a moment, summoning her courage before speaking. She hadn't stayed for the whole day, but it was enough for the boys to look at her angrily when she told them she had to leave for a couple of hours.
Sam hesitated in the doorway, summoning the courage for the conversation she knew was overdue. "Jack," she said softly, setting her bag down.
He didn't look at her.
"You're late." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.
"I know," she replied, stepping closer. "We need to talk."
Finally, he turned to face her, his brow furrowed.
"I think we've had plenty of 'talks,' Sam. Nothing changes."
She sighed, her voice steady but laced with determination.
"This time, it will."
Jack put the plate down and dried his hands, giving her his full attention.
"I'm listening."
Sam took a deep breath.
"Jack, I need you to understand why I built CQS. Why I needed to."
He crossed his arms, leaning against the counter.
"I thought we already had this conversation before, but I'm all ears."
"I spent my whole life following orders," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "First from my father, then the Air Force, then the Stargate Program. Every day, every mission was about doing what someone else thought was important. Even when I loved the work, it was never really mine. It was someone else's agenda."
Jack's expression hardened, though his stance remained firm.
"You forgot to include me in the list. You also followed my orders, Sam. So, is this the problem? Do you resent me?"
Sam shook her head.
"No, I never said I resented following orders. And this isn't about you, Jack. This is about me. Why I felt the need to create something for me," she tried to explain.
"So you're saying CQS was different?"
"Yes," she said, her eyes lighting up with passion and regret. "It was mine. For the first time, I wasn't following orders. I was in charge of something I cared about and was good at. It thrilled me in a way I hadn't felt in years. I wasn't just a cog in someone else's machine. I was building something, Jack. For me."
Jack nodded slowly.
"I get that, Sam. I do. But somewhere along the way, we got lost—us, the boys."
Her shoulders slumped as she looked down.
"I know. I got so caught up in proving I could do it—proving it to myself, to everyone—that I didn't see what I was sacrificing. You and the twins... you're the most important part of my life, Jack. And I lost sight of that."
"You didn't just lose sight of it," he said, his voice softer now but firm. "You shut us out. Do you know how many nights I've sat here wondering if we're even your priority anymore?"
Tears welled in her eyes as she met his gaze.
"I'm so sorry, Jack. I never meant to make you feel that way. I thought I could balance it all—be a good wife and a mother and still have this... thing that was just for me. But I failed. Miserably."
"You didn't fail, Sam. You just—" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You bit off more than anyone could handle. I get why CQS matters to you. But it can't come at the expense of everything else. We got divorced for crying out loud!"
"You're right," she said, trembling but resolute. "And I've been thinking a lot about what you said," she began, her voice steady but tinged with emotion. "About balance and how I've let my work take over my life."
Jack tilted his head, waiting for her to continue.
"I'm stepping down as CEO of CQS," she said finally. "I've decided to transition into the role of Chairman of the Board. Natalie will take over as CEO."
Jack blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Chairman? Natalie as CEO? That's... big."
Sam nodded, her gaze resolute. "It is. But it's the right thing to do. Natalie's ready—she's been running the day-to-day operations for months and has proven she can handle it. She knows the company inside and out, and the team trusts her."
Jack crossed his arms, studying her. "Okay, but what does that mean for you? Are you still going to be involved?"
"Yes," Sam assured him. "As Chairman, I'll focus on strategy and oversight, not the day-to-day grind. I'll still be part of the company, but it won't consume my every waking moment. It's a gradual transition—there are many technicalities involved. We need the board's approval for the leadership change, and Natalie and I will work together for a few months to ensure a smooth handover."
Jack leaned back against the railing, his expression softening. "And you're okay with this? Letting go of the reins?"
Sam hesitated, then nodded. "I've built something I'm proud of, but I don't need to control every detail to keep it successful. If anything, stepping back will let me focus on what matters most—this family."
Jack's lips curved into a small smile. "I never doubted you could do it, Sam. I just needed you to see it for yourself."
She smiled back, relief washing over her. "I do now. And it's not just about the company—it's about building a life that includes all of us, not just my work."
Jack reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Carter. And for the record, I think Natalie will knock it out of the park."
"She will," Sam agreed, her voice filled with quiet confidence. "And so will we."
Jack pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapping around her securely. "One step at a time," he murmured.
"One step at a time," she echoed, leaning into him.
The peace didn't last.
One afternoon, as Sam was baking cookies with the boys—Benji reluctantly participated while Jake eagerly stirred the batter—her phone buzzed on the counter. She ignored it, focusing instead on Jake's enthusiastic chatter about adding extra chocolate chips.
Then it buzzed again. And again.
"Mom," Benji said, his voice cautious. "Your phone's going crazy."
Sam wiped her hands on a towel and picked it up. The messages on the screen made her stomach drop.
[Critical systems failure reported. Immediate attention is required.]
[Security breach detected. Possible sabotage.]
Her heart raced as she stared at the words. She could feel Jack's presence behind her before he spoke.
"What's going on?"
"Something's wrong at CQS," she said, her voice tight.
Jack frowned. "How bad?"
"Bad," she admitted. Her first instinct was to grab her laptop and start working. The company was her creation, her responsibility. But then she looked at Benji, who had retreated to his corner of the kitchen, his arms crossed and expression wary.
And suddenly, the choice wasn't a choice at all.
Sam set the phone down deliberately and turned to Jack.
"Can you handle this for a bit? I need to make a call."
"Sure," Jack said, observing her.
Sam stepped into the living room and dialed Natalie.
"This is Sam. What's going on?"
As the details poured in, Sam's resolve hardened. The breach was serious, but it was also manageable—without her direct involvement.
"You've got this," she said firmly. "I trust you, Natalie. Keep me updated, but I'm with my family."
When she returned to the kitchen, Jake licked the spoon, and Jack helped Benji roll dough into balls. Benji glanced at her as she re-entered, his expression guarded but curious.
"Everything okay?" Jack asked.
Sam nodded, her smile faint but genuine.
"It is now."
As they all sat down for dinner that evening, Sam kept the conversation light, listening intently as Jake described his latest school project. But her attention drifted to Benji, who picked at his food, his thoughts elsewhere.
After dinner, when Jake ran off to find his toys, Sam approached Benji, who lingered by the table.
"Hey," she said softly, sitting beside him.
He didn't look at her.
"You didn't leave," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"No," she agreed, her voice steady. "I didn't."
"Why?" he asked, finally meeting her gaze. His eyes were filled with a mix of confusion and hope.
Sam reached out, placing a hand over his.
"Because you're more important than anything else. You and Jake. You're my priority now, Benji. And I'm not going anywhere."
His lip quivered, and for a moment, she thought he might brush her off again. But then, slowly, he leaned into her, letting her wrap her good arm around him.
"You promise?" he asked, his voice muffled against her shoulder.
"I promise," she said, her voice thick with emotion.
Jack watched from the doorway, his arms crossed and a faint smile on his lips. For the first time in a long while, it felt like their family was starting to heal.
Thanks to the team Sam had built, the crisis at CQS was resolved without incident. But for the O'Neills, the resolution marked something far more critical: a shift in priorities.
Sam still had her company, and Jack still had his sardonic humor and steady presence. But now, they had something more—a renewed sense of purpose as parents and a shared commitment to their family.
Sam stood in the doorway of the bedroom she had technically shared with Jack since she had returned from the hospital, staring at the bed. It was a familiar sight she'd once called hers, but now, it symbolized everything unresolved between them. Jack was already sprawled on his side, reading a book, his glasses perched precariously on his nose.
"You gonna stand there all night, or are you coming to bed?" he asked without looking up.
Sam rolled her eyes, stepping inside.
"I'm just trying to remember how I got roped into this arrangement again."
Jack smirked, turning a page.
"You're injured, Carter. Can't very well have you sleeping on the couch."
"I could take the guest room," she countered, sliding into bed on her side.
"Vaka and Daniel were there, but I haven't cleaned up yet. Besides, would you ruin my nightly entertainment by watching you fight with the comforter? Not a chance," he quipped, setting his book on the nightstand.
She gave him a playful glare. "You're hilarious."
"I know," he replied, switching off the lamp.
Their nights were... very awkward. Sam was acutely aware of Jack's closeness, the faint scent of his aftershave, and the way he hogged the blanket.
"Jack," she hissed in the dark.
"Hmm?" came his sleepy response.
"You're stealing all the covers."
"I'm not stealing. I'm... redistributing," he mumbled, tugging the comforter closer.
"Redistribute it back, or I'm kicking you out," she warned.
There was a pause before he begrudgingly relinquished some of the blanket.
"Happy?"
"For now," she muttered.
The guest room still bore the untouched imprint of its purpose, the linens unchanged since the last time Daniel and Vala had needed them. Jack hadn't bothered, and Sam, for reasons she didn't want to examine too closely, hadn't insisted. Instead, she'd slipped back into the rhythm of sharing their bedroom—quietly, as if she'd never left.
Earlier in the day, practicality had driven her back to her house to grab a few essentials. But now, her black Cadillac XT5 sat in Jack's driveway, an unmoving testament to her uncertain footing. Jake had asked, his voice hesitant but hopeful, "Are you living here again?" Benji, ever watchful, had only glanced her way—his expression somewhere between guarded curiosity and tentative disbelief. It was as if he was waiting for confirmation in actions, not words.
"What's the deal with your car?" Jack asked as they climbed into bed that night.
Sam frowned, fluffing her pillow. "What about it?"
"It's sitting there like a beacon," Jack said, gesturing vaguely toward the window. "Practically screams, 'We're back together.'"
She arched an eyebrow. "Are you worried about the neighbors talking, Jack?"
He shrugged.
"Nah. Just wondering if I should start hiding the good beer in case they stop by to celebrate."
Sam rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile.
The real issues started when Sam was no longer using the sling, and they could move more freely. So far, Jack had been careful, real careful in terms of space, but sharing a bed wasn't just about space—it was about everything that came with it. The little things that had once been endearing now felt... complicated.
Like Jack's snoring.
"Jack," Sam whispered, nudging him.
He didn't stir.
"Jack," she said louder, jabbing his side.
He snorted awake, blinking groggily. "Wha—what? What's wrong?"
"You're snoring. Again."
He grunted, rolling onto his side.
"I've always snored, Carter. You used to find it 'charming,' remember?"
"I was younger and less sleep-deprived," she muttered, flopping back onto her pillow.
"And you married me anyway," he teased, his voice heavy with sleep.
"Don't remind me," she shot back, though her tone held no heat.
One evening, after a particularly long day of wrangling the boys and managing the aftermath of one CQS crisis, they both climbed into bed with barely a word. Jack had just turned off the light when Sam sighed loudly.
"What?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"This," she said, gesturing vaguely between them. "Us. This whole... situation. It's confusing."
Jack propped himself up on one elbow, his silhouette barely visible in the dim light.
"What's confusing? You're here. I'm here. We're just two adults, sharing a bed... like we used to."
"Exactly," she said, turning to face him. "We're divorced, Jack. On paper, anyway. This wasn't supposed to happen."
"Well, technically, it's happening," he said with a smirk.
"Jack," she said, exasperated.
He sighed, his humor giving way to something softer.
"Look, Carter, we promised to take things slow. And I'm fine with that. But let's not overthink it, okay? The kids are happy, we're figuring things out, and no one's thrown anything at me yet. I call that progress."
She chuckled despite herself. "That's your bar for success?"
"Hey, I take what I can get," he replied, settling back down.
Sam lay there for a moment, the quiet stretching between them.
"Thanks, Jack."
"For what?"
"For being... you."
He smirked in the dark. "Always am, Carter. Always am."
As she drifted off to sleep, Sam couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, sharing a bed with Jack again wasn't such a problem after all.
The morning of Sam's return to work crept in softly, the pale light seeping through the kitchen window. She sat nursing a cold cup of coffee, her thoughts swirling as she replayed the whirlwind of the past few weeks—rebuilding bonds, making promises, and rediscovering the fragile balance of family and ambition.
Jack found her there, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.
"You're up early."
Sam smiled faintly. "Couldn't sleep. Big day."
He walked over, pouring himself a coffee before sitting across from her. "Nervous?"
"A little," she admitted. "It's been a long time since I've had to balance everything. And I don't want to screw it up."
Jack leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady. "Then don't."
Sam arched a brow. "Helpful."
He smirked. "You're Sam Carter. You don't screw up—you adapt. You've always found a way."
Her smile wavered. "Not always. We're here because I did screw up. And this time, I will do it right—for all of us. Which is why we need to talk."
Sam called everyone to the living room as the boys stumbled downstairs, still groggy from sleep. Jake bounced onto the couch, his knees tucked under him, and grinned.
"Okay, Mom, what's the big news? Is it good? It's good, right?"
Benji climbed up more slowly, his tiny hands smoothing over the cushion.
"Is this... serious? Like, really serious?"
"It is," Sam said gently. "It is both serious and good."
Jack stood nearby, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His presence was solid and grounding, and Sam appreciated it more than words could express.
Sam knelt so she was at eye level with the boys, her heart heavy but resolute.
"I'm going back to work today," she began, her voice steady despite the moment's weight. "But things are going to be different this time."
Jake tilted his head, curious. "Different, how?"
"I won't spend all my time at the office like I used to," Sam explained, glancing between her sons. "I'll leave after breakfast and be back way before dinner. Some days, I might not even need to go in at all." She hesitated before adding, "That's a promise."
Jake's face lit up, his grin wide. "So you'll be home more? Like, a lot more?"
Sam nodded, smiling softly. "Yes, buddy. A lot more."
Her gaze shifted to Benji, who sat quietly beside his brother, his tiny hands resting on his lap. His expression was unreadable, but the slight furrow in his brow betrayed the storm of emotions beneath the surface.
"Benji?" she asked gently. "What do you think?"
He didn't meet her eyes. Instead, he traced a finger along the edge of the table, his voice barely audible. "You've made promises before."
The words stung, but Sam didn't flinch.
"I have," she admitted. "And I've broken some of them. But this time, I'm going to show you. Every day."
Benji finally looked up, his blue eyes filled with hope and doubt. "You promise?"
Sam leaned in her voice firm. "I promise."
"Good," Jack said, stepping forward. "Because if you break that promise, I'll make omelets every night, and we'll all suffer."
Jake laughed. "Dad, you're bad at omelets!"
Jack smirked. "Exactly."
Even Benji cracked a small smile, and Sam's heart felt lighter.
As they moved to the kitchen, Sam arranged plates of pancakes and fresh fruit on the table. Jake immediately dove in, syrup dripping from his fork as he chattered excitedly about his day. Benji sat more cautiously, cutting his pancake into precise squares before taking small bites.
Sam kept the conversation light, asking the boys about their plans. But she couldn't shake the tension that lingered in the air between her and Benji, even as Jake's laughter filled the space.
When breakfast was nearly over, Benji finally spoke, his voice quiet but precise.
"You said you'd come back before dinner."
Sam paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. "I will," she said gently. "Every day."
Benji nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to his plate. He said nothing else, but his small shoulders seemed to relax slightly.
Later, as Sam cleaned up the kitchen, she caught sight of Benji standing by the window, staring out at the snowy expanse of the woods. His sketchbook was tucked under his arm, and she thought about going to him for a moment. But she stopped herself, giving him the space she knew he needed.
Jack entered the kitchen, his presence steady as always.
"How're you holding up?" he asked, pouring himself a coffee.
Sam leaned against the counter, the weight of Benji's words still heavy in her mind.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I told him I'd prove it to him, but... what if it's not enough?"
Jack set his mug down and turned to her, his gaze unwavering.
"It'll be enough, Sam. Just keep showing up. That's all he needs right now."
She nodded, but the doubt lingered. "He said I've made promises before. And he's right."
Jack stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Then make this the promise you don't break."
Sam exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly under his touch. "I will."
As she glanced back toward the window, she caught sight of Benji again, his small figure silhouetted against the pale morning light. He wasn't looking at her, but the fact that he hadn't retreated to his room felt like a step forward.
"Little by little," she murmured, more to herself than Jack.
Jack nodded, his hand slipping to her back as they stood together. "Little by little."
The chapter closed with the sound of Jake's laughter echoing from the living room and the quiet resolve in Sam's heart to keep fighting for her family—one day, one promise at a time.