Stargate SG1 is somebody else's, probably MGM/Gekko Corp/Sci-fi, and I freely admit that whoever's it is, I'm borrowing their show and they retain all rights, etc

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone for their support and encouragement.

Established Sam/Jack pairing so please turn away now if you don't like the pairing. As part of the story takes place in Jack's past, there is also mention to his previous relationship with Sara.

This is set post Ark of Truth and somewhere around SGA's S4 episode 'Reunion.' There are spoilers for all SG1 and SGA S4.

I noticed a while back that there were a few 'Sam in Atlantis' stories but not many that focused on Jack in the same time period and as I wanted to focus another story on Jack this idea took shape. Angst warning! Reviews always appreciated.

Time Box

Prologue

The clock mocked him.

Jack O'Neill sat staring at the oil splattered plastic circle on the wall with a scowl. The diner was on the outskirts of Colorado Springs. It was a local landmark, a throwback to the Sixties which had withstood all the changes around it to continue doing business. Vinyl covered almost every surface; it had once been a vibrant red and was now a washed out orange. The Formica table was cracked and coffee-stained. There was a faint scent of burnt oil in the air overlaid with the pungent odour of fried onions and meat.

His hands clenched around the sturdy white cup he held.

He could still make it. If he left within the next hour he could drive back to the house; he could run up the stairs; he could stop his son from taking the gun; stop his son from dying.

The clock ticked.

Jack lifted the cup and took a sip of the bitter, cold liquid. He grimaced as he swallowed and stared down into the black depths of the drink. He hadn't wanted it but he had needed something…something to keep him sat where he was while he ignored what was happening at…he hesitated over which word to use, the house where he had spent the last fifty-odd hours hadn't been his home for a long time.

The whole thing was surreal.

One minute he had been stood in Daniel Jackson's office with some doodad that the archaeologist had picked up on one of SG1's last missions and the next he had been waking next to his ex-wife – wife – ex-wife.

Hell.

Some Ancient doohickey device had thrown him back to his worst nightmare. Hell was a perfect description.

He hated time travel. If that's what this was. Not that it mattered, Jack thought bleakly. Whether he'd truly travelled back in time or this was some kind of virtual reality or even just a dream, it felt real.

He could make it.

The thought whispered through his head. He could still make it. He could stop Charlie from dying.

And risk changing the time line.

He couldn't do it. He could practically hear Samantha Carter in his head whispering about causality; chaos theory; butterfly effects.

If Charlie lived, Jack wouldn't go to Abydos and who knew what would happen? Maybe in a few months time Ra would arrive and the world would end all because Jack couldn't let his son take a bullet he had already taken. Or maybe they wouldn't meet Ra and everything would be fine. Or maybe this wasn't real anyway…

It wasn't fair.

He had saved the world so many times – didn't that count for something? Why had fate placed him here again? Why did he have to choose? Why him?

Jack's lips twisted. He only had himself to blame – he'd picked up the damn box…