That evening, after the kids were asleep, Sam and Jack sat together on the porch swing, the quiet night wrapping around them like a blanket. Sam leaned against Jack, her head resting on his shoulder.
"I'm afraid to say aloud it's finally over," she said softly, her voice carrying relief and exhaustion.
Jack's hand found hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.
"Yeah. But it cost us, didn't it?"
Sam nodded, her gaze fixed on the stars.
"The company almost didn't survive. The kids had to hear things no child should. And us... We've got divorced, and I don't think I've ever felt so close to losing everything."
Jack's voice was quiet but steady.
"But we didn't lose it. Yeah, we got divorced, but we held on, Carter. That's what matters. We've been through worse."
"Maybe," she murmured. "But they went after the boys, Jack. For days, I couldn't sleep. Whenever I closed my eyes, I'd see their faces and wonder what would happen if we lost." She exhaled sharply, the memory still raw. "They're just kids. They didn't deserve any of this."
Jack shifted beside her, his voice quieter now. "You think I don't know that? I've spent my life making enemies, Carter. The kind that doesn't care who gets caught in the crossfire. It's not fair. I hate that it's touched them."
Sam turned to look at him, her blue eyes searching his face. "You didn't choose this, Jack. None of us did. But... it's different now. We have them to think about."
Jack's jaw tightened, and for a moment, his gaze drifted to the backyard, where the twins' snowman stood, lopsided but proud.
"You're right. It is different. But if there's one thing I've learned, you don't stop fighting when it matters. And they're what matters. You. Them. All of it."
"I just want them to be happy. To be safe."
"They will be," Jack said firmly, leaving no room for doubt. "Because we'll make sure of it. Together."
Sam's gaze drifted to the stars, her voice quiet.
"McCready's death… it feels like the end of a long nightmare, but it also scares me. Someone made sure he wouldn't talk, Jack. That kind of silence doesn't come cheap."
Jack tightened his grip on her hand.
"I know. Landry's retirement wasn't because of any health issues, he was ordered to retire. Whoever's pulling the strings—they're done with us for now. But if they ever come back, we'll be ready."
Sam nodded, her shoulders easing slightly.
"It's just hard to believe it's really over. After everything we've been through, it feels... fragile."
"Maybe. But fragile doesn't mean broken," Jack said, his voice steady. "We've been through worse, Carter. And we're still standing."
She smiled faintly, the tension in her shoulders easing as his hand touched her back, grounding her. "We always seem to find a way, don't we?"
Jack smirked, a familiar glint in his eye. "We're stubborn like that."
The two sat in silence for a while, the warmth of their connection a quiet reassurance against the cold night air. Sam let herself relax fully for the first time in weeks.
"Jack," she said after a long pause, her voice almost a whisper. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For always being here. For believing in us."
Jack kissed her forehead, his voice soft but full of conviction. "Always, Carter."
They stayed like that, wrapped in each other's presence, as the night stretched on—two people who had faced the storm together and emerged stronger, ready for whatever came next.
That morning, the world outside was quiet, a soft blanket of snow muffling the usual sounds of life. The house was still, except for the faint hum of the heater and the distant laughter of the boys playing upstairs. Sam and Jack sat at the kitchen table, their mugs of coffee steaming between them. The early sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow on the polished wood.
Jack leaned back in his chair, fingers tracing the rim of his mug as he watched Sam. She stared out the window, lost in thought, her hands wrapped around her cup. Her cream-colored sweater fell loosely around her shoulders, and her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. She looked peaceful, but Jack knew her well enough to see the flicker of doubt in her eyes.
"Penny for your thoughts," he said, breaking the silence.
Sam blinked and turned to him, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Just thinking."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
"Dangerous habit."
She chuckled softly, shaking her head.
"I was thinking about today. About us." She paused, her smile fading slightly. "Do you ever wonder if we're crazy for trying this again?"
Jack's grin softened, and he set his mug down, leaning forward.
"All the time. But being with you? Crazy's worth it."
Sam's eyes searched his face as if looking for reassurance.
"What if we mess it up again?"
Jack's expression grew serious, his brown eyes steady as they met hers. "Then we keep trying. You and me, Carter—we're not perfect, but we're damn good at not giving up."
She looked down at her hands, her thumb brushing the infinity pendant around her neck.
"I've been thinking about that a lot lately. After the divorce, I told myself it was the right thing to do. That we'd be better off apart. But every time I came home to an empty house, every time I looked at the boys and saw how much they missed you... I knew I'd made a mistake. I was running, Jack. From fear, from failure, from... everything."
"Sam—" Jack started, but she held up a hand, stopping him.
"Let me finish," she said softly. "I've spent so much of my life trying to be strong, to prove that I could handle anything. Therapy helped me realize that strength isn't about handling everything alone. It's about knowing when to reach out and when to fight for what matters. And you—you matter, Jack. We matter. I see that now."
Jack reached across the table, his hand covering hers. His touch was warm, grounding her.
"You're not the only one who ran, you know. When things got hard, I thought letting you go was the right thing to do. That it'd be easier for you, for the boys, but all it did was make me realize how much I need you. Going to church these past few months and working with the animals at the shelter—reminded me that the simple things in life, the quiet moments, really matter. And you've always been my favorite part of those moments."
Sam's eyes filled with unshed tears, and she squeezed his hand.
"It's not going to be easy, is it?"
Jack smiled, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.
"Nothing worth having ever is. But we've faced worse, Carter. And we've come out stronger every time."
She nodded, her tears spilling over as she smiled.
"Together."
"Always," Jack said firmly.
They sat silently for a moment, the weight of their words settling between them. Then Jack leaned back, his trademark smirk returning.
"You ready to marry me again?"
Sam laughed, the sound light and full of warmth.
"You're assuming I'll say yes."
"Oh, I'm counting on it," Jack teased, his grin widening. "Besides, I've already got the rings. No refunds."
Shaking her head, Sam stood and walked around the table, leaning down to kiss him passionately.
"Yes, Jack. A thousand times, yes."
Jack pulled her into his arms, holding her close as the morning sun continued to rise, casting its golden light over their second chance.
While they were in that moment, Sam's phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a notification. She glanced at it, her brow furrowing slightly as she read the message.
"'Great news! Call me when you can,'" she read aloud, tilting the phone to show Jack. The sender's name—Vala—was impossible to miss.
Jack leaned back with a knowing smirk.
"With Vala, 'great news' could mean anything. Is Daniel's cooking 'cosmic cuisine' now, or is she trying to sell us again the idea how great would be to buy a house in San Francisco and be neighbors ?"
Sam laughed, setting the phone down beside her coffee.
"Probably both. I'll call her later." She paused, her expression thoughtful. "It's been a while since we heard from her and Daniel. I wonder if it has something to do with that last mission."
Jack shrugged.
"Could be. Or maybe she's just bored and decided we're her entertainment for the week."
Sam smiled faintly, but there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes as she returned to her coffee. Jack reached across the table to take her hand.
"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it. But today? Today's just for us and the boys," he said firmly.
Sam nodded, squeezing his hand.
"You're right. No distractions today."
The phone buzzed again, but neither of them glanced at it this time. Instead, they sat quietly, soaking in the warmth of the morning and the rare sense of peace.
Later that afternoon, the house buzzed with activity. The twins had been tasked with staying clean and ready for the ceremony, but their enthusiasm was hard to contain. Dressed in warm, formal navy peacoats and wool trousers, they had found a way to keep busy—quietly conspiring in their room.
Sam knocked on their door and peeked inside. "What are you two up to?"
Benjamin quickly hid a piece of paper behind his back, and Jacob glared at his brother.
"Nothing, Mommy," Benjamin said, his tone too innocent.
Sam raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing, huh? Let me see." She held out her hand, and Benjamin reluctantly handed over the paper. It was a carefully drawn picture of their family under a bright sun, with the words.
"We Love You, Mommy and Daddy," scrawled in big letters at the top.
Sam's heart melted.
"This is beautiful. Are you going to show this to Daddy during the ceremony?"
Jacob nodded shyly. "We want to say something, too. But we're nervous."
"You'll do great," Sam assured them, crouching down to their level. "And you know what? Daddy's going to love it."
Just then, a loud crash echoed from downstairs. Sam stood quickly.
"Stay here. I'll check it out."
She found Jack in the kitchen, holding a dishtowel and grimacing at the sight of a shattered coffee carafe on the floor.
"So much for calm and collected," he muttered.
Sam bit back a laugh. "You nervous?"
Jack shrugged. "Maybe a little. But don't tell anyone. Gotta keep my reputation intact."
"Your secret's safe with me," Sam teased, grabbing a broom to help him clean up.
The twins, dressed in tailored wool coats over crisp white shirts and dark trousers, looked both smart and adorable. Matching scarves wrapped snugly around their necks added a touch of warmth, while sturdy leather boots with thick soles kept their feet dry in the snow. They darted around the house excitedly, their energy infectious. Jack, dressed in a black turtleneck shirt and dark jeans, was in the bedroom adjusting his sleeves when Sam appeared in the doorway, holding a small wooden box in her hands.
"Got a minute?" she asked, her tone soft.
Jack turned, his casual outfit complementing the warmth of his expression, and nodded. "For you? Always."
Sam stepped closer, her cream-colored sweater dress flowing around her as she moved, her hands trembling slightly as she held out the box. "I wanted to give you this before everything starts. It's... it's something that means a lot to me. To us."
Curious, Jack took the box and opened it. Inside was a small, intricately carved compass, its metal gleaming faintly in the light. He lifted it carefully, his thumb brushing over the engraved initials on the back: S & J.
"It's beautiful," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Where did you find this?"
"It's not new," Sam admitted. "I got it years ago when we were still figuring out how to make this work. I was going to give it to you then, but... well, life happened. I thought about it a lot after the divorce, and I realized this compass—it's a reminder of us. No matter how far off course we might drift, we always find our way back to each other."
Jack stared at the compass, his jaw tightening as he tried to control his emotions.
"Sam..."
She smiled, her own eyes shimmering.
"I want us to start fresh, Jack. But I also want us to remember how far we've come. This is our second chance, and I don't want to take it for granted."
Jack reached for her hand, pulling her into a gentle embrace.
"I won't, Carter. I promise."
They stood there momentarily, wrapped in each other's arms, before Benjamin's laughter echoed down the hall. Jack chuckled, pulling back slightly.
"Sounds like the troops are getting restless."
Sam nodded, her smile widening. "We'd better not keep them waiting."
Jack slipped the compass into his pocket, his fingers lingering on it momentarily. Then, with one last look at Sam, he grabbed her hand and led her toward the door. Together, they walked into the next chapter of their lives, ready to face it as a family.
The backyard of Jack's house was transformed into a winter wonderland, the soft glow of string lights casting golden patterns on the fresh snow. The trees stood like silent sentinels, their branches heavy with frost, sparkling faintly under the twinkling lights. The crisp night air carried the faint scent of pine and woodsmoke from the fire pit, where the first embers crackled softly in the distance.
Sam stood at the edge of the clearing, the cold biting her cheeks and turning her breath into tiny clouds that dissipated in the air. Her cream-colored sweater dress hugged her figure, offering little warmth against the chill, but the sight before her filled her with a glow that had nothing to do with the temperature. Jacob and Benjamin darted around the yard, their laughter ringing like bells as their boots crunched through the freshly fallen snow.
She turned slightly, catching sight of Jack approaching with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa in hand. The warm scent of chocolate mingled with the winter air, and she felt a pang of affection at the sight of him. His black turtleneck and dark jeans suited him perfectly, but the quiet confidence in his stride and the mischievous spark in his brown eyes made her heart skip a beat. Even after everything they had been through, all the battles fought and scars carried, he still looked at her as though she were the only thing in the world that mattered.
As she took the mug from Jack, her fingers brushing his, Sam's thoughts turned inward. She couldn't help but reflect on the journey that had brought them here—not just through the dangers of their shared missions but through the personal battles that had tested them. She thought about the darker times—not the perilous offworld moments but the emotional chasms they had navigated.
She remembered the divorce and the crushing silence that followed—the sound of papers shuffling as she signed her name, sealing a decision she wasn't sure she truly wanted. Jack hadn't fought her on it. He had let her go, even though it was evident in his eyes that he didn't want to. She had told herself it was for the best, for the boys, for their sanity, but deep down, she knew she was running—from fear, failure, and the overwhelming sense that she wasn't enough for the life they had built.
Her time at CQS had only deepened the rift. She poured herself into her work, thinking it would fill the void, but every late night at the office, every missed moment with her children and Jack was another brick in the wall she was building between herself and the life she truly wanted. It wasn't until she stood in an empty house, staring at the echoes of the family she had pushed away, that she realized what she had almost thrown away. Jack had been her rock even then—steady, patient, and quietly waiting for her to find her way back.
And she did. Somehow, they had found their way back to each other, slowly rebuilding what they had nearly lost.
He gently clinked her a mug, his hand brushing hers, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "You cold?" he asked, his voice low and teasing, the warmth in his tone a stark contrast to the frosty air.
His gesture and voice made her thoughts return to the present, and she smiled softly.
"A little," Sam admitted, wrapping her hands around the mug to soak in its heat. She took a sip, the rich chocolate coating her tongue and sending a pleasant warmth through her. "You?"
"Not one bit," he said, his grin widening. "I just have to keep looking at you."
Sam chuckled, the sound mingling with the frosty air.
"Jesus, Jack."
The officiant, a retired chaplain Jack had served with years ago, cleared his throat gently from the center of the yard. A small wooden table beside him held two simple silver rings and a single white candle, its flickering flame casting a steady glow. The flame's reflection danced on the snow, creating a sense of quiet reverence that matched the stillness of the night.
"All right, kids," Jack called out, his voice carrying easily. "It's time."
The twins came running, their cheeks flushed pink from the cold, their breaths puffing like tiny chimneys. Benji skidded to a stop beside Sam, his blue eyes wide with excitement, while Jake hovered near Jack, clutching his father's hand with quiet anticipation.
"Mommy, are you really getting married again?"
Sam knelt, smoothing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
"I am. What do you think about that?"
Benji's brow furrowed in thought.
"Does that mean Daddy won't sleep on the couch anymore when he snores?"
Jack barked out a laugh, ruffling Benjamin's hair.
"That's the plan, buddy."
Jake, quieter and more thoughtful, slipped his small hand into Jack's.
"Are we part of it too?"
Jack crouched to meet his son's eyes, his expression softening.
"Of course you are. This isn't just about me and your Mom. It's about all of us. We're a team, remember?"
The boys nodded solemnly, their giggles giving way to a shared sense of importance. They took their places beside their parents as the chaplain began to speak. His voice was steady and calm, filling the still night with words of love, resilience, and partnership.
Before the vows, the chaplain paused and smiled at the boys.
"Jacob, Benjamin, your Mom and Dad tell me you want to share something."
The boys froze, their wide eyes darting between each other and the crowd of expectant faces. Benji nudged Jake with his elbow, whispering loudly, "You go first!"
Jacob shook his head, his cheeks flushing red.
"You're the one who said it was your idea!"
Sam crouched slightly, her voice soft and reassuring.
"It's okay, boys. Just take your time. You've got this."
They exchanged a nervous glance, and Benjamin finally stepped forward, clutching the folded paper they had been working on all week. Jacob followed closely, their shoulders brushing as if drawing courage from each other.
Sam's heart swelled as she watched them. She remembered walking past their bedroom door late at night and hearing their hushed whispers as they rehearsed, their tiny voices practicing the lines they had written together.
Benji cleared his throat, his voice high but steady.
"We worked on this together, so it's from both of us." He unfolded the paper, his hands trembling slightly as he read.
"Mommy and Daddy, we're really happy you're getting married again. We know sometimes you fight or get busy with work, but we always knew you loved each other."
Jake stepped closer, and his voice was soft but clear. "When you were apart, we missed having everyone together. It didn't feel right. But now, it feels like home again. And we promise to be a good team too."
Benjamin grinned, adding with the unfiltered honesty only a child could muster, "And we promise to help, even if it's cleaning our rooms. Well, sometimes."
The crowd chuckled softly, the tension lifting as Jacob rolled his eyes and whispered, "You're not supposed to say that part!"
Benjamin shrugged, flashing an impish grin, and held up their drawing—a colorful picture of their family standing under a bright sun with the words "We Love You, Mommy and Daddy" scrawled across the top.
Sam's breath caught as she took the picture she had seen before, her hands trembling slightly.
"This is beautiful, boys. Thank you."
Jack crouched to their level, his voice thick with emotion.
"You guys are the best. We're lucky to have you on our team."
The boys beamed, their earlier nerves forgotten, and the chaplain waited a moment, letting the heartfelt moment settle before continuing as the night seemed to hold its breath.
The occasional rustle of branches above, weighed down by frost, provided a soft backdrop to his speech about love, resilience, and family.
When it was time for the vows, the snow beneath Sam's boots crunched softly as she turned to face Jack. Her hands trembled slightly as they clasped his, her fingers cold but steady. The air between them seemed to hum with quiet anticipation, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away.
Jack's voice was low, his words unhurried but heavy with emotion.
"Sam... you've been my anchor, my constant in a life that's been anything but steady. I've spent years trying to protect the world, but you... you're the reason I want to. You've seen every scar I carry, and you never turned away. You make me better, stronger. I didn't think I'd ever get a second chance at this, at us. But here we are, and I'm never letting go."
Tears shimmered in Sam's eyes, the cold air turning them into icy pinpricks against her skin. As Jack's words washed over her, she couldn't help but think about everything it had taken to get to this moment—the nights spent wondering if they had made the right choices, the ache of being apart, and the overwhelming joy of realizing they hadn't truly lost each other.
Her voice wavered slightly as she began, but her conviction grew with each word.
"Jack, you've been my safe harbor in every storm. You were there, holding me together when everything felt like falling apart. You've shown me that love doesn't have to be perfect to be worth fighting for. I promise to stand by you and fight for us, this family, no matter what happens. You're my partner, my home, and my everything."
The twins stepped forward eagerly, their boots sinking slightly into the snow as they handed over the rings. The polished silver bands gleamed under the string lights, a simple yet perfect reflection of the bond they represented. Jack took his ring from Jake, pausing to murmur a quiet "thank you" before sliding it onto Sam's finger. She smiled through her tears as she took the other ring from Benjamin, her touch lingering on his tiny hand before she placed the band on Jack's finger.
"By the power vested in me," the chaplain said warmly, his breath visible in the frosty air, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. Again."
Jack pulled Sam close, their kiss tender yet filled with promise. The twins erupted into cheers, their joy breaking the stillness of the night, and Benji's impish grin returned as he scooped up a handful of snow and hurled it at Jack.
The snowball hit him square in the shoulder, and Jack turned with mock indignation, already scooping up snow for retaliation. Sam stepped back, her laughter mingling with the boys as Jack chased them around the yard. The world around her sparkled—the glowing house, the soft snow, the golden light from the strings above. It felt like a dream, fragile and fleeting but more real than anything she had ever known.
Jack turned with mock indignation, scooping up snow and chasing the boys, his laughter ringing out as Sam stood back, watching the scene unfold. Her heart swelled as she took it all in—the house glowed softly in the winter evening, the string lights casting golden patterns on the snow, her children's laughter, the man she loved, and the life they were rebuilding together.
It felt peaceful.
But as she turned her gaze to the flickering candle on the table, a thought lingered, unspoken: Life was unpredictable, and storms could come again. Yet, standing there in the snow, surrounded by the people she loved most, Sam knew one thing for sure—they were strong enough to weather anything together.
The ceremony was simple but perfect. After exchanging vows and listening to the boys' heartfelt surprise speech—complete with their colorful drawing—the family gathered by the fire pit in the backyard. They huddled together under a thick wool blanket, their breaths forming soft clouds in the frosty air. Jack leaned back in one of the Adirondack chairs, his arm resting comfortably around Sam, who cradled Jacob against her side. Benjamin perched on Jack's lap, his small hands carefully holding a skewer with a marshmallow, its surface slowly turning golden over the crackling flames.
The boys were unusually quiet, their earlier excitement mellowing into a warm, contented stillness. The soft glow of the fire cast dancing shadows on their faces, and the smell of burning wood mingled with the sweetness of roasting marshmallows.
"Do you think we'll build another snowman tomorrow?" Jake asked, his voice muffled against Sam's shoulder.
Sam smiled, her fingers brushing through his soft hair.
"We can build as many as you want, sweetheart. Maybe we'll even make a whole snow family."
"With a snow dog," Benji added, his eyes lighting up at the idea.
Jack chuckled, shifting slightly to avoid tipping Benjamin's marshmallow into the flames.
"Snow dog? What about a snow alien? You know, to keep things interesting."
Benji giggled, tilting his head back to look at his Dad.
"What kind of alien?"
Jack smirked. "The scary kind. With three eyes and six arms."
Jacob shivered dramatically.
"No way. That sounds creepy!"
"Not if we make him friendly," Sam said, smiling down at Jake. "Maybe he can be the protector of our snow family."
The boys considered this for a moment, their faces thoughtful in the firelight as the marshmallows roasted.
"Don't burn it, Benji," Jacob warned, his voice teasing.
"It's not burnt," Benjamin retorted, holding up an entirely black marshmallow. "It's just crispy."
Jack chuckled, pulling Sam closer under their shared blanket.
"This... this is perfect."
Sam smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"It really is."
The fire crackled softly as the boys began asking questions, their curiosity bubbling over.
"So, does this mean you and Mommy are gonna live together all the time now?" Benjamin asked, his marshmallow forgotten as he stared at Jack.
Jack nodded, his smile warm.
"That's right. No more splitting time between houses. We'll all be together, just like we should be."
Jacob tilted his head, his gaze thoughtful.
"Does that mean we'll do breakfast together every morning now? Like pancakes and bacon?"
Sam laughed softly, brushing her fingers through Jacob's hair.
"I don't know about every morning, but we'll definitely have more family breakfasts. Daddy's pancakes are hard to beat."
Benjamin grinned. "But Mommy's bacon is better. Daddy burns it sometimes."
Jack gasped in mock offense. "I do not burn the bacon! It's called crispy perfection."
"Sure, Dad," Jake said, his voice filled with exaggerated doubt. "But maybe you should let Mommy do the bacon, just in case."
Jack shook his head, laughing.
"Fine. I'll handle the pancakes, and your mom can be the official bacon chef. Deal?"
The boys giggled and nodded, their earlier energy softening into quiet contentment.
Jacob leaned against Sam, his blue eyes heavy with sleep as he murmured, "Mommy, do you think we'll always stay together now? Like forever?"
Sam's heart clenched at the question, and she tightened her arms around him.
"Forever," she said softly, her gaze meeting Jack's.
Jack's hand found Benjamin's, his tone steady and full of conviction.
"We're a team, and teams stick together."
Jacob lifted his head slightly to look at Sam.
"Even if we fight sometimes?"
Sam cupped his face, her thumb brushing over his cheek.
"Even if we fight. Every family has disagreements, but that doesn't change how much we love each other. Nothing ever will."
Benjamin snuggled closer to Jack, his voice quieter now.
"I'm glad. I like when we're all together. It feels like... home."
Jack kissed the top of Benjamin's head, his voice thick with emotion. "Me too, kiddo. Me too."
The boys' small bodies grew heavier as they drifted off, lulled by the warmth of the fire and the safety of their parents' arms. Sam glanced at Jack, her lips curving into a soft smile.
"We did it," she whispered, the weight of the last few months finally lifting from her shoulders.
Jack nodded, his eyes on the boys.
"Yeah, we did. And this—" He gestured to the peaceful scene around them. "This is what makes it all worth it."
The firelight danced on their faces, illuminating the quiet love and relief that had finally taken root. Above them, the stars twinkled against the inky sky, a silent reminder that no matter how dark things had seemed, they had found their way back to the light—together.
The boys snuggled into their parents as the fire crackled, their laughter and questions fading into a peaceful stillness. The winter night wrapped around them, but the warmth of their love made the cold feel distant and insignificant.
As the fire crackled softly that night, Sam's thoughts wandered to a moment many years earlier, a memory that still felt vivid. It had been after her father's death, a day when the weight of grief had threatened to crush her. She had locked herself in her lab, trying to busy her hands and drown her emotions in equations and prototypes. Jack had found her sitting in the dark, her shoulders trembling as she held back tears.
"Carter," he had said, his voice quiet but steady. He didn't say anything else; he just walked in and sat beside her, his hand lightly resting on hers.
"I should've done more," she whispered after a long silence, her voice cracking. "Been there more. Maybe..."
"Hey," Jack interrupted gently, turning her to face him. "Jacob was proud of you, Carter. He knew how much you loved him, and he wouldn't want you sitting here, beating yourself up."
She broke then, the tears spilling over, and Jack hugged her, letting her cry. "You're not alone, Carter," he murmured. "I've got you. Always."
That moment had stayed with her, a reminder of how Jack had always been her anchor in the storm. And now, sitting by the fire with their boys between them, she realized that anchor had only grown stronger over the years.
The fire crackled softly, casting warm shadows on the snow as the family huddled together. The boys had long since drifted off, their small bodies warm and heavy against Sam and Jack. The quiet night wrapped around them like a blanket, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Sam let herself breathe deeply, fully.
This day had been everything she'd hoped for and more—a moment of peace, laughter, and love after months of chaos. It felt fragile, like glass catching the light just right, and she was afraid to move too quickly, lest the moment shatter.
Her gaze drifted upward to the stars, infinite and still, and she let herself believe—just for tonight—that they were safe, that they had weathered the storm and come out stronger.
The buzz of her phone startled her, the sound sharp and out of place in the stillness. She blinked, her eyes shifting from the stars to the faint glow of the screen. The message from Vala lit up like a beacon, tugging her thoughts back to a world she wasn't ready to re-enter just yet.
"'Great news! Call me ASAP,'" she read aloud, her voice breaking the quiet. The urgency in Vala's message was subtle but unmistakable.
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Damn the woman! She must be telepathic or something…", he let out.
"She always had great timing," she said biting her lip. "Do you think it's about Daniel?" Her tone was light, but a note of intrigue was beneath it. She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the call button.
Jack's smile faded slightly, replaced by a thoughtful frown.
"Maybe but when it comes to Vala, 'great news' could mean anything—ranging from actual news to something trivial like finding a new shade of lipstick."
She set the phone down, deciding against calling back just yet. Jack's hand found hers, his fingers warm and grounding.
"Whatever it is, it can wait. Tonight is ours."
Sam nodded, her lips curving into a small smile as she leaned against him.
"You're right. It can wait."
The phone buzzed again, vibrating softly against the blanket. Sam glanced at it, the message from Vala glowing on the screen like a tiny beacon of disruption.
Her gaze shifted to the fire, its warmth and light casting a reassuring glow against the cold night. Everything about this day—Jack's steady presence, the twins' laughter, the promises they had renewed—felt like a protective shield against the chaos of the world. For the first time in months, maybe years, she felt a fragile but undeniable sense of peace.
And yet, the message was a reminder. The world beyond this moment was unpredictable, full of questions and challenges she couldn't yet see. A part of her hesitated, wanting to stay wrapped in this bubble of serenity, but another part—the part that had faced so many storms and survived—knew that whatever waited, she was ready.
Jack's hand found hers, his grip steady.
"Tonight is for us," he said, his voice low but certain.
Sam nodded, leaning into him with a small smile. "For us."
The phone buzzed once more, but neither of them looked at it this time. Instead, they turned their eyes to the stars above that shimmered in quiet promise, a reminder that no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together—with love and strength as their compass.
