AN: So, this is my first story in a loooong time. My original name was Silent Cobra, but as I do not remember the log in information for that, well, this is my new one. So, thanks to Jordan for editing this and being my cheerleader. I swear I'll get that Sailor Moon story done for you when I finish this one.

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 does not belong to me. I just play with them.

Spoilers: Cold Lazarus, I mention some missions later in the story that I made up. As far as I know, they never happened.

Pairing: Sam/Jack, with a side of Daniel/Janet

Time: sometime after Sam is promoted to Major, probably before Beneath the Surface. I'm just not going to touch that one.

Archive: sure, just ask me.

Warnings: sex in later chapters, a somewhat graphic description of Charlie's death in this chapter, nothing super bad, but be warned.

I think that's it! Please read and review!

One Breath at a Time

By Golden Asp

Chapter One: The Café

Major Samantha Carter sat alone in the small café. She was in civilian clothes, and had a book open on the table in front of her. She absentmindedly took a sip of her water. She glanced at her watch before looking up at the door.

He was late.

Not that she was surprised. This was the first day they'd had off in a month, and he was probably sleeping in. He deserved it.

Sam ran a hand through her short blonde hair and turned back to her book. She would wait for him, no matter how long it took.

The door to the café opened as another woman walked through the door. Sara O'Neill paused as she took her jacket off, her gaze stopped on the blonde sitting alone, reading a book.

Sara frowned. The woman seemed somehow familiar. She was sure she had met her, or at least seen her before. Sara folded her jacket over her arm. She had a feeling she had at least seen a picture of her rather recently.

Then she remembered. Jack. Jack had a picture of this woman in his wallet.

6 ½ Months Ago

"Sara?"

She turned at the sound of her name. The park was nearly empty, and she immediately saw him.

"Jack, how are you?" she waited while he walked up to her, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Okay, you?" He looked at her. They stared at each other for a few minutes. Jack tried to remember the last time they had met and just talked. He couldn't.

"I'm…good, actually, Jack. Really good," she smiled up at him. His lips twitched in a return smile.

"That's good. I was going to grab a coffee, you want one?" he gestured to the coffee stand at the edge of the park.

"Sure, that'd be nice." They began to walk towards the stand. "I've wanted to talk to you anyway."

"Uh oh."

She laughed. "Nothing bad, Jack, I promise."

"Well, that's a relief."

They stepped up to the coffee stand. Jack pulled out his wallet.

"One black coffee, one vanilla latte, extra hot."

Sara smiled softly. He still remembered. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he pulled money out of his wallet. They had been so in love. If Charlie was still alive…

"Damn it!" Jack swore suddenly. Two pictures slid from his wallet. The breeze picked them up and began to whisk them away. Sara lunged and managed to step on both of them before they got too far away.

Sara picked up the pictures. They were both well worn, as if he spent a lot of time handling them. The first picture was of Jack and Charlie. Her heart twisted slightly, as it always did when she saw a picture of their son. She smiled sadly as she ran her thumb over Charlie's face.

The second picture was of Jack and a blonde woman. They were both wearing the casual work uniform of the Air Force. The picture had clearly been taken without their knowledge. Jack had his feet up on what was presumably the woman's desk. His hands were locked behind his head and he had a roguish smile on his face. The woman was laughing, reaching to shove his feet off the desk.

Sara looked at the picture. She hadn't seen Jack smile like that in years. He looked happy. She smiled at him as he walked up to her with their coffee. She took her latte in one hand and gave the pictures back to him.

"She's very beautiful."

He flushed faintly as he carefully tucked the pictures back into his wallet.

"You must care for her a lot," Sara said softly.

His mouth opened, and then closed as he looked away. Sara put her hand on his arm.

"Jack, it's okay. You're not going to hurt me."

"It's not okay though," he said softly. "I'm her commanding officer; she's my second in command. Nothing…nothing can happen." He still didn't look at her.

"What's her name?"

"Samantha, Sam Carter."

They stood in silence, Sara's hand resting on his arm. He took a deep breath and then looked down at her. He smiled, but she could see it didn't really reach his eyes. His walls were back up.

"You said you wanted to talk to me?"

She took a step back and sipped her latte, watching him.

"I met someone a while back. We're serious."

He nodded and took a drink of his coffee, staring somewhere behind her.

"Are you happy?"

She looked at him, surprised that he had asked that question.

"Yes," she said, "I'm happy."

He looked down at her, his brown eyes staring straight into her soul.

"Then I'm happy for you Sara, I really am."

"I want you to meet him, and his three year old daughter."

His eyes widened slightly at that. She nodded slowly.

"It was hard, especially at first," she whispered, "She's the first child I've spent a lot of time with since Charlie…Some days were harder than others. But I think she's helping me heal. Slowly. No one will ever replace Charlie, but Sammy eases the ache."

"Sammy?" he croaked.

"Her name's Samantha. You'd like her, especially since you seem partial to that name," Sara smiled wryly at him, taking another sip of her latte.

"I have to go, Jack. Keep in touch, will you?"

He nodded, but seemed unsure about something as they embraced.

"Thanks for the coffee, Jack. Be happy."

Sara smiled up at him again, blinking back the tears that thinking about Charlie brought up. She turned and walked back to her car, leaving him standing in the park, coffee cooling in his hand.

The Café

"Sam Carter?"

Sam looked up with a gasp, her eyes widening as she took in the slightly older woman.

"I don't think we've ever been properly introduced. I'm Sara."

Sam nodded as they shook hands, "I know."

"Mind if I join you?" Sara asked.

Sam gestured to one of the chair across from her. "Please. And how did you know my name?"

"Ran into Jack a few months back."

Sam raised her eyebrows, her impossibly blue eyes questions. "He mentioned me? And you recognized me from a description?"

Sara just smiled. She watched Sam for a moment. So, it seemed the feelings were mutual.

"He keeps your picture in his wallet. Next to Charlie's."

Silence. Sam looked down at her hands. What do you say to that?

The silence stretched as the waitress walked over. "Can I get you anything?"

"Just orange juice," Sara said, "I'm waiting for a couple people."

"Of course," the waitress walked away, leaving the two women alone.

Sam took a sip of her water. She seemed to be debating whether or not to talk to Sara. She set her water down.

"He told me about Charlie once," Sam said softly. Sara leaned forward, looking at this woman with renewed interest.

"What did he tell you?"

Sam looked up, their eyes locking.

"Everything."

3 ½ months ago

Sam shouldered her go bag and prepared to leave the base. She turned the lights out in her lab and shut the door.

SG-1 had been put on stand down for four days. It was a well-deserved break. As she walked toward the elevator, she heard someone running towards her.

"Sam!"

She turned and smiled at Dr. Daniel Jackson. "Daniel, what's up?"

"Have you seen Jack? Teal'c said he saw him leave right after the debrief, but we can't find him and he's not answering his phone."

She frowned. "His house is on the way to mine. I'll swing by and check."

Daniel nodded. He ran his hand through his hair. "You'll let us know?"

"Of course. I'll call later."

"Thanks, Sam."

She waved at him as she stepped into the elevator. As it rose through the mountain, she thought back to their last mission. Colonel O'Neill had seemed a bit distant, distracted by something that he didn't share with the team.

At the parking lot, she stowed the bag in the saddle bags of her bike and started it up, the rumble of the engine a familiar comfort.

When she arrived at O'Neill's house, his truck was in the driveway, but all the lights were off. She glanced at the roof, trying to see if he was at his telescope. The small balcony was empty.

She stepped up to the front door and knocked. There was no answer. She grabbed the doorknob and turned it. Unlocked. She stepped into the dark house.

"Colonel? You in here? It's Carter."

Still no answer, but she heard a click, what sounded like a bottle being set down, and the crackle of a fire from the living room.

She walked in slowly. "Sir?"

He was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch. He stared blankly into the fire place. There were seven beer bottles around him, one with a baseball balanced precariously on top of it.

"Sir?"

He glanced up at her blearily.

"Carter. Do you know what today is?" his voice was rough, like he hadn't used it since the debriefing hours ago. Sam sat down next to him, shifting a couple of the bottles out of the way.

"What day is it, sir?" she whispered. He turned back to the fire and reached for the baseball, turning it over and over in his hands, running his fingers over the laces.

"It's Charlie's birthday," his voice cracked. She reached out and took his hand. He clutched it to him, squeezing hard. She didn't say anything as the bones in her hand ground together, she just rubbed her thumb in small circles over his hand.

"This is the first time since the Stargate program started back up that we've been on planet for it…I didn't think…" he seemed unable to finish.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, their shoulders touching.

"Tell me about Charlie."

He looked at her, his chocolate eyes bloodshot.

"I don't know where to start."

Sam continued to draw circles on his hand with her thumb.

"Start with how you felt when you found out Sara was pregnant."

He looked at her and squeezed her hand again. She wasn't sure if he was actually going to talk about Charlie. It wasn't a subject that they breached with him, ever.

And then Jack started to talk. He told her everything; his fear and joy when Sara told him she was pregnant; his awe at holding Charlie for the first time; how proud he was of his son as he grew from toddler to boy.

He talked for hours, telling her stories about the first baseball game he took Charlie to, and how that team manager had signed a ball just for Charlie. He told her how much Charlie loved to laugh, and how he brought joy to everyone around him.

He went silent for a moment, and Sam wondered if he was finished. Haltingly, he began to tell her about the day Charlie died. He clung to her hand as if it were a life line.

He told her how he had just gotten home and kissed Sara in the yard, how she showed him Charlie's school picture, which had come in the mail that day.

Sam felt tears roll down her cheeks, and could see the tear tracks on Jack's face as he told her about the gunshot ringing from the master bedroom. The horror he felt as he screamed Charlie's name. Time seemed to slow as he ran up the stairs, Sara on his heels with the cordless phone, screaming at 911.

He flung the door open to the bedroom, and gave another wordless cry as he saw Charlie sprawled on the floor, Jack's gun in his small hand. Blood and thicker things stained the grey carpet, turning it a dark violet. Jack's brain refused to process what he was seeing.

That couldn't be his son on the floor, so still, so lifeless.

He told Sam how he had dropped to his knees next to Charlie, blood soaking the knees of his pants. He was barely aware of Sara behind him, yelling frantically into the phone.

He drew Charlie's body in to his arms and felt despair fall around him like a blanket. He felt terror as he realized that somehow, even with half of his face gone, Charlie was still breathing.

He cradled Charlie's head against his chest, trying to stem the flow of blood. Inside, the part of him that worked Black Ops knew there was no hope, no way Charlie would survive that injury. There had been hollow point bullets in that gun. Those weren't designed to leave survivable wounds.

The part of him that was Charlie's father didn't, couldn't believe that his son would die, that his son was dying here, in this room, in his arms.

Distantly, he could hear the sound of sirens getting closer. He was aware of Sara hitting her knees next to him, sobbing. Then footsteps running up the stairs, paramedics rushing in and dropping next to Jack. He couldn't remember what they were saying, he couldn't hear what they were saying, he just knew they were trying to take his son away from him.

He fought to cling to Charlie. The paramedics sat back, sensing that Jack could be dangerous. He bent over Charlie, cries ripping from his chest.

He barely felt Sara's hand on his shoulder.

"Jack, they're trying to help. Let them take him." Her voice was thick with tears.

The paramedics took Charlie from Jack's now limp arms. As they bundled him onto the gurney and rushed him down the stairs, Jack flung himself after them, Sara close behind.

They climbed into the ambulance behind the paramedics. The ambulance tore off, sirens screeching into the afternoon air. Jack clung to Charlie's hand, whispering his name over and over again.

The hospital. Doctors surrounding Charlie, shouted words, and the press of bodies around him.

Seconds, minutes, hours later, Jack wasn't sure. He just stood in the middle of the emergency room, Charlie's blood drying on him. Sara stood next to him, tears streaming down her face.

Time passed, but Jack was unaware of it. He just stared at the doctors around Charlie. He watched as one by one they bowed their heads and stepped back.

Jack felt the bile rise in the back of the throat as one of the doctor's walked to them. Sara clung to his arm, sobs hiccupping from her chest.

"Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill, I'm so sorry…"

That was all Jack heard. An anguished scream tore from his throat as he hit his knees. He pressed his face into his hands. Oh God, he had let go, he thought, if only I had held onto him, if only I hadn't let go…

Jack finally fell silent. Sam's arms were around him, rocking him back and forth as she whispered soothing words in his ear. He could feel her tears falling onto his shoulder. He buried his face in her shoulder, trying to muffle his cries. He had never told anyone about exactly what had happened that day. He felt raw, like a wound had been torn open and salt rubbed in it.

"Let it out, Jack, just let it out," Sam whispered. He tensed, almost as if he were going to pull away, before collapsing against her, crying his heart out.

Sam stroked his hair, letting him cry. She felt her face, damp with her own tears. She held him until he quieted, his breath warm and steady against her neck.

She shifted slightly, lowering his head into her lap. He was asleep, his face temporarily free of worry or sadness. Sam dug into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She quickly dialed Daniel's number and put it to her ear.

"Sam, it's been hours. Is everything okay?"

She could hear the worry in his voice. "Everything will be fine Daniel, just a rough day for him."

Daniel paused, listening. "Are you crying, Sam?"

"Not anymore," she whispered. "I'll see you in a few days. Jack will be fine."

"If you say so, Sam. Are you sure?"

"Yes, Daniel, I'll call you tomorrow." She looked at Jack. "Have a good night, Daniel."

"Bye Sam. Hope everything's okay," she could hear the doubt in his voice as he hung up. She touched Jack's cheek.

"Colonel, let's get you into the bed. Sir. Wake up."

O'Neill's eyes opened slowly. His head was in Carter's lap. He closed his eyes briefly. Any other day he would have enjoyed this immensely.

"Carter?" he sat up slowly, his head pounding.

"Sir, you need to sleep," she stood up and helped him to his feet. She put her arm around his waist as he leaned against her. She led him down to the bedroom. He collapsed onto the bed. He felt Sam tugging at his feet as she removed his boots.

She pulled the blankets around him as his eyes drifted shut. He thought he felt her lips press against his forehead.

"Sleep now, Jack." Her lips pressed against his forehead again, at least he thought she kissed him again, but before he could ask, sleep took him like a wave.

The Café

Sara sat back, staring at the younger woman. "He must trust you implicitly to tell you everything. He never opens up."

"I know," Sam said wryly, "that whole Black Ops, top secret, thing."

Sara laughed, still a little in shock that Jack had opened up like that to anyone. Even when they had been married, and well before Charlie's death lay between them, he had never opened up. She could only remember seeing him cry twice; once on the day when Charlie was born, and on the day he had died.

She took a drink of her orange juice and shook her head. "I'm still in shock a little; that he would open up like that."

"We've saved each other's lives countless times, it forges a bond."

Sara nodded slowly, staring at the younger Air Force officer.

"The next time we were at the base, there was a dark pink rose on my desk with a note that just said 'Thank you,'" Sam said, fingering her napkin and avoiding Sara's gaze.

"Clearly, you both care greatly for each other," Sara said, watching Sam intensely.

"Yes," Sam whispered, blinking rapidly.

"Then why do you look so utterly miserable, Sam?"

Sam stopped playing with the napkin and took a deep shuddering breath. She looked up, and Sara was taken aback by the tears shimmering in Sam's blue eyes.

"Because I'm pregnant, and it's Jack's."

AN: Yeah, it's been done before, but we keep reading it! Please read and review! I have a lot of this story done. I'm weird in that I long-hand everything, THEN type it up. Thanks for reading!