CHAPTER 8

Jack pulled his black coat over his civilian clothes. He wanted to stay on base with Sam, but he also wanted to get home to Sara as soon as possible.

Despite his determination to always remain level-headed, and to always have hefty doses of pessimism on hand, his mind was wandering to places he never thought he'd visit again.

What if he and Sam had a future together? A real one? One where he didn't feel like half a person trying to function as a whole one? One with more children? With beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes like hers…

Jack slammed his locker shut, and was rendered paralysed by what caught his eye. There was a shiny gold band staring him in the face.

He had been wearing it for over a decade. He knew the day she slipped it on his finger that it was the only one he'd ever want to wear. He knew he'd always love her… that she'd always be with him.

Jack grabbed the locker handle and pulled it open again. He reached inside and fumbled around for the cigar box that sat underneath one of his crumpled work shirts lying at the foot of his locker.

He sat down, and paused for a moment, staring at the top of the box… he still wasn't sure he was ready.

He kept all his memories in this box. His grandfather had given him the box of cigars the day he had turned eighteen - it was a memento in itself - and inside sat every letter, every photo, every person, place and thing that ever meant anything to him.

He rarely opened it. When he did it was to place something inside, never to visit or explore what was in it. It hurt. It meant the world to him, and it was everything he was afraid of.

This was his life in his hands. All the photographs and memoirs somehow painted a picture of who he was.

But if he were to open it and really look, he knew all he'd see was loss… was people and things that didn't exist anymore.

It was his own personal Pandora's box. Only instead of evils it contained grief and pain, and he was scared that if he ever opened it for too long it may just envelop him.

But he knew if he wanted a future - a happy one - he had to face his past and find a way to move forward.

Jack took a deep, steadying breath and he opened the lid.

The first thing he laid eyes on was his wife.

His beautiful wife who loved him more than he ever deserved.

The picture was small, taken with a Polaroid camera in 1987. She was pregnant with Charlie. She hadn't wanted Jack to take the photo, because she insisted she looked 'too fat'. Jack had told her… "The baby will want to see what he looked like from the outside."

That baby was gone now too…

Charlie.

Jack picked up a picture of his son. It was larger, glossy, taken in 1994. Charlie was holding his little league trophy. Jack had his arm around him.

Mike had taken that photo. It was one game Jack had actually managed to make, and he'd gotten to see his boy make the home run that won his team the season. He was an excellent batsman; Jack knew he would be the very first time he taught him how to swing.

He picked up the crumpled and scratched photo of the baby he'd loved so very much in 1988. Charlie loved that that rubber duck. He'd loved lots of things in the few precious years he was living and breathing.

Jack felt as though a knife had been stabbed through his heart. It all came back in flashes. But he knew some of the images he'd never really seen before. He never saw Charlie dragging a chair towards his closet. He never saw his wife begging the doctors to save her life. He never saw the bullet tear through his son's chest.

Those were images his own mind had created to torture him with. He knew that, but he didn't know how to stop it. If he shut it out it would just stay there in the back of his mind, with him spending the rest of his life trying to escape it… running from himself.

Jack shut his eyes and tried to block out all the grief tearing through him. He looked inside himself to find something to hold onto, something that would ground him.

Sara.

Jack took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He felt a calm settle within him. Out of everything he'd done in his life… she was the only thing that was right. The only thing he hadn't ruined. The only thing hadn't lost.

Jack shuffled through the pictures and found a picture he'd put in the box the day he'd brought it to the SGC. The day he'd gone off-world to find Daniel… the day he wasn't sure if he'd be coming back…

Sara in her pink ballet costume.

He'd brought that dress for her. It was the most expensive one in the store - some designer label. But that was the one she wanted. Apparently she'd outgrown the eight purple ones he'd bought her previously.

Sara had wanted it, but she never did ask for it. She rarely asked for anything, and she appreciated everything she was given.

She was his saviour everyday, and today in this moment she was going to save him one more time.

She'd lost almost as much in her short life as he had in his long one.

She'd lost a parent as she took her first breath… instead of being held and nurtured by her mother's warmth, she was left alone in plastic tub. Her father crumbled.

Her brother... her best friend… her hero… she'd seen…

The fabricated images in Jack's mind… the one that caused him so much fear and despair… they were real to her. She'd heard the gun shot. She'd been there when they took Charlie's body.

Jack was grateful that he never had to face that. But his little three year old had… without him.

And yet she looked at the world around her and saw nothing but beauty. She had such a remarkably compassionate heart. Jack sometimes wondered where on Earth she came from.

Whatever he did for the rest of his life, it had to be for her. He had to do whatever it took to keep her safe. He had to do whatever it took to make her happy.

She had never known what it was to have a mother. If there was a chance that he could give her that, he needed to find the strength within him to do it.

Jack smiled at the photo of his daughter and put the rest of the pictures back in the box.

He balanced it on his knees so he would have both hands free.

Slowly his right hand reached his left finger and gently he slid off his wedding band.

Jack held it in his fingers and looked at it one last time.

He silently told his wife the goodbye that life had cheated him out of. He promised her that there would never be day of his life that he wouldn't carry her with him.

Jack placed it in the cigar box with the rest of his past and closed the lid.

LIGHT UP

"Good morning, campers." Jack crooned, wandering into the level 26 research lab.

"I believe it is past noon O'Neill, and we do not appear to be camping." Teal'c said, hands clasped behind his back and eyeing him curiously.

"See Teal'c, the thing is, not everything we Earthlings say is always literal."

"I see." Teal's said with a slight hint of disapproval.

He turned to Daniel, who was leaning over the inscripted-dealy sitting on the lab table. In the time Jack was gone he'd managed to carry up half a library from his quarters, most of which lay open and spread across the table.

"Making any headway?" Jack asked, making a genuine effort to sound enthused. He promised himself he would at least attempt to look like he was interested in knowing what was going on, not just there to inquire as to the whereabouts of Dr. Carter.

He planned on going home, but he felt he had to see her one last time before he left.

"Not as such. It's looking doubtful that I can translate this without more of the scripture." Daniel answered, picking up a large book that looked centuries old.

"Ah, the ever-elusive 'page turner' has us in a bit of a bind then?" Jack said, drumming his fingertips against the lab table.

"Right." Daniel flipped over the page he was looking at, seemingly involved in his readings.

"Perhaps Dr. Carter can help us out there?" Jack said, trying to keep his tone casual.

Smooth O'Neill.

Jack couldn't help but feel pleased that he'd managed to get onto the subject of Sam so quickly.

"Hopefully. But it seems we have never encountered this technology before. It could take a while - if it's even possible at all."

"Not goa'uld then?" Jack thought he really owed himself a congratulations for not directing the conversation straight back to Sam.

"No. If it were of goa'uld origin Teal'c would be able to read this to us. It's likely they scavenged it from P3X-643, or possibly some other planet."

"Where's Dr. Lee?" Jack almost managed to sound as though he actually cared. "Shouldn't he and Dr. Carter be here tinkering with you?"

Daniel cleared his throat.

"Dr. Lee has gone to fetch me a coffee – I work best with a coffee in my hand."

"I see." Jack said, sounding slightly sceptical. He was beginning to think the good doctor had a bit of a substance-abuse problem. He seemed to get a little cranky after they'd been off-world a few hours and Jack was pretty sure caffeine-withdrawal was the issue.

"I believe Daniel Jackson finds Dr. Lee's presence of little value." Teal'c stated.

"He was… hovering. It's distracting."

"And Dr. Carter?" Jack pushed, feeling more and more impatient by the second.

"I'm sure she'll be a great help when she gets back." Daniel said, placing the book back on the lab table.

"Back from where?"

"Apparently there's been a fire at her house."

"What?!" Jack almost yelled.

Daniel shot Jack a confused look. Jack hadn't meant to react so strongly.

"I haven't seen her since she went to speak with General Hammond, so I'm not completely sure of the details, but Harriman told me she left a few hours ago."

Damn. That would have been the 'emergency call' the Sergeant had pried her away for.

"Was she okay?"

"Jack, I just told you, I haven't seen her."

"Right." Jack nodded. "Yes. Excuse me."

Jack turned on his heel and fled the room as fast as he could.

LIGHT UP

Lost.

She was lost.

Samantha Carter was a person who always liked to know what was coming next. She was the kind of person who, when playing a game of chess, always had her next three moves decided. She didn't like to take things as they come, at least not if she could possibly avoid it.

When she was confronted with a problem, a blockade in the road of life, she always had her wits about her. Things that could pose a serious problem to others rarely fazed her because she had intelligence and resilience to handle those things that did manage to catch her by surprise.

But this… she wasn't quite sure how to handle.

It was rare that someone's life should be turned to rubble in such a literal sense. The smoke burning her eyes and filling her lungs made it impossible not to realize the reality of the situation.

She knew she should leave. She should get in her car and go somewhere. But since she wasn't sure where that somewhere was, she continued to wander aimlessly amongst the piles of cinders.

The fire had been extinguished long before she'd arrived. Since she'd owned the house less than a week, none of her would-be neighbours could provide her contact details or even her name.

Still the smell of smoke was strong enough that it felt hard to breath. Though Sam couldn't tell if the burning in her chest and sick feeling in her stomach was a result of the smouldering wreckage or her devastating loss.

She knew she had no hopes of recovering anything.

Her childhood photographs… her mother's belongings… her most treasured possessions… they were all gone.

She didn't place too much importance on material possessions, but there were some things in life that could never be replaced.

Her mothers wedding dress was just one of those things. She'd worn it only for a day, but Sam could swear that it smelled like her.

That was something no amount of time or money could bring back.

Sam walked back towards the garden hedge – the one thing that looked unscathed by the flames. Well, almost. There were a few torn pieces of hedge lying on the lawn; she supposed the fire-fighters had caused the damage by pulling hoses over it.

Sam felt sick. Really sick. She wasn't a person who had a weak stomach, but the sudden wave of nausea she felt made her realize she had to sit down.

She fell back clumsily onto the grass, feeling grateful that she was now hidden from the prying eyes of neighbours that she'd been scrutinized by for the past few hours. She knew they meant no harm. Some were going so far as to offer words of sympathy and support. But having her loss be made a spectacle of just made things worse somehow.

Sam pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged her legs tightly against her. Her head hung low as she slumped her forehead down to rest.

She felt dizzy, like the world was spinning.

Could Pete really have done this?

She found it hard to believe.

But maybe that was because she really didn't want to believe it. She didn't want to think that someone she once trusted could hurt her so badly.

Why? Why would he do this? He couldn't have. Pete was a mess of a person, but he wasn't this spiteful… this childish… was he? Could her instincts really be that poor?

Sam lifted her head from her knees and glimpsed the dilapidated ruins of her new home.

If she thought about it from an objective point of view… it fit.

Arson… It was cowardly. He didn't have to face her… didn't have to look her in the eye to hurt her. It didn't take gumption. It took impulsivity and thoughtlessness. He could just throw that can of fuel he carried in the trunk of his car over her porch and drop his lighter, before heading straight out of town… feeling like he'd had the last word.

As much as the realisation stung, her ever-logical mind insisted it was a true possibility.

She'd known almost as soon as she had met Pete that he wasn't right for her. At the time he was so friendly, and kind, and seemingly desperate to make her happy. She felt obligated to give him a genuine chance, despite her lack of interest.

If only she'd trusted her heart instead of letting her head take the lead the way it always did, she would have never gotten so deeply involved with him.

It wasn't her instincts at all that had lead to this mess, but her need to always do what reason said was best.

She knew the very first time Pete touched her that it didn't feel right.

Why didn't she listen? Why didn't she trust herself? Her feelings? She always relied on her head to tell her what was true… what was real. Apparently her mind was off-duty though, since it sure as hell hadn't determined this as a possibility when it was convincing her that Pete had done nothing wrong and she was just looking for excuses to run away.

Sam laid back onto the grass and stared up at the blue sky, which was quickly losing light. The scattered clouds were beginning to turn pink and orange.

She hadn't realised how late it was. The day had past by in a swirl of activity and information. She felt a world away from Jack and if she went only a short time longer without seeing him she might even be able to convince herself that he was just a dream.

She could see her breath in the air - an unpleasant reminder of how cold she was. She couldn't go inside and put on her favourite winter coat because there was no inside, and her coat was now a pile of ash along with the rest of her belongings.

Sam knew if anyone were to walk by they might see her lying there, but for the moment she didn't care. She was too busy trying to contain the grief in her heart to care much about her level of decorum. Maybe if she'd lead the military life her father wished for her she might have the discipline to contain herself, but that was a life she hadn't chosen.

Sam rolled onto her side and tried to convince herself not to cry.

Every time she thought her life was going somewhere she wanted it to, something always came along and stole all her hope away. She thought this time was different.

He'd followed her all this way, just so he could hurt her.

She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't give him that.

Even if he'd never know… she would.

She wouldn't cry.

The sound of the front gate screeching open startled her and she quickly shot up into a sitting position.

She spun around and was shocked to see Jack standing there on her front path.

She caught sight of him just before he spotted her, and when he did his usual stern, commanding appearance immediately softened.

Within moments his eyes seemed to well with empathy and concern. Sam just sat there and stared back, shocked by his sudden appearance and overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions she felt just from his presence.

Jack closed the gate slowly and turned to walk towards her.

"Rough day?" Jack asked.

Sam smiled, and to her surprise, it was a genuine smile. She stared down at the ground and brushed her hair away from her face.

"You could say that." She said softly.

Jack came to a stop at her side and sat down beside her on the grass.

"I like the new place." Jack said gesturing towards the pile of rubble.

Despite herself Sam burst into fits of laughter. She leaned onto his side, grateful with all her heart that he had somehow found her. Her giggles dissipated into gentle sobs and Jack gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest.

"It'll be okay." Jack whispered into her hair.

He held her close for a good ten minutes, even after she'd stopped crying. She didn't want to move from the comfort of his arms, and he seemed reluctant to let her go.

"What do you say we grab a pizza for dinner? I know that's two nights in a row, and that's not exactly good for the waistline, but I'd say after the day you've had you've more than earned it."

Jack released Sam from his embrace so he could gauge her reaction. She pulled away to look at him and Jack raised his eyebrows at her encouragingly.

"I don't know." She said, looking away from him.

"Well, alternatively we could stay here until it gets completely dark and freeze our butts off all night." Jack said, as he began to pull his coat off.

"Jack, don't!" Sam said holding up her hand.

Jack ignored Sam's protest and wrapped the jacket around her shoulders.

"I bet the jacket's overjoyed, probably didn't think it would be seeing you again so soon."

"You'll freeze." Sam said sternly.

"I'll live." Sam sighed, and Jack could tell she had surrendered. "But I do like the sounds of that nice warm pizza. What do you say?"

The light from the sky was very dim now, and it was getting harder to make out Sam's expressions. Jack was pretty sure she he saw a smile flicker across her face.

"I know a little girl who will be even more pleased than the jacket to see you again. Plus I hear there're cookies to bake or something?"

"Oh! That's right! I said I'd help her. I hope that's okay." Sam said, almost sounding a little nervous.

"Okay Dr. Carter, I'm gonna make this real simple, because simple is what I do best. Come home with me and eat pizza."

There was a moment of silence between them that made Jack want to lean in and kiss her.

"Okay." Sam said gently.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I can't exactly say I have house chores to do, can I?" Sam said, gesturing across her front lawn towards the wreckage.

"You could say you have to wash your hair." Jack shrugged.

"I have no shower."

"Maybe you left something on the stove?"

"And I'm worried the burnt rubble is going to catch on fire?"

Sam started laughing again. Of all the things she thought she might be doing tonight, she didn't think laughing would be one of them.

Once her laughing had died down into a smile she noticed that he was staring at her. She placed her hand over the top of Jack's and curled her fingers through his.

"Thank you." She said softly.

"For what?" Jack asked, using his free hand to brush her hair behind her ear.

"For being here for me."

"Always."

Jack climbed to his feet and reach down to take Sam's hands. He helped her to stand and she stumbled into him a little.

"One question." Sam said, taking one of his hands as he began leading her to the front gate. "How did you know where I lived?"

"I hovered threateningly above Harriman. Took him about two seconds to get me the address."

Jack unlatched the gate and held it open for Sam to step through.

"So you're not stalking me then?" Sam asked, as Jack joined her on the sidewalk.

"You sound disappointed." Jack replied, taking her hand once more.

"Maybe a little." Sam smiled.

Jack and Sam started walking in the direction of his car, which was parked just across the street.

"I could get some binoculars, set myself up in the park here so I could look through your windows…" Jack stopped in the middle of the empty street and turned to look at the space where there was once a house. "Except…"

"I don't have any windows…" Sam finished for him, the laughter already taking hold.

"You have me beaten at every turn!"