The General, The Colonel, their Child and His Mother ~ Teens ~ 2 of 4
Details, disclaimers and Part One here
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It was only as they approached the CMC checkpoint off the mountain road that Sam remembered that she had left her ID at home; for the first time ever in ten years. There was the necessary but irritating delay while verbal permission was granted to allow her and Jake access to the base, facilitated by the fact that the guard commander was an old-timer who knew her by sight. Getting Jake down to the palm scanning station was made much easier by Daniel’s bright idea to bring along his stroller. The baby was transferred out of the car and onto the stroller without even a murmur and Sam began to give credence to the phrase ‘Klik’n’Lok’.
As she reached for the ergonomically shaped handle that You And Baby Will Love, Daniel grabbed it and winked. “You’ve done enough pushing for this one.”
She couldn’t even raise a smile.
What the hell was wrong with her?
Trudging behind Daniel and the FLO as they bustled their way through the corridors, she noticed Daniel’s grin getting exponentially bigger the further they progressed into the complex as various members of personnel stopped to coo over Jake.
Sam was able to feign gracious acceptance of their compliments and tried to keep her mind off her lover languishing several floors below. It wasn’t their fault they had no idea about him - the blast doors kept most things out for a while at least, including news of the return of a highly decorated, highly missing (believed killed) Air Force officer. This was not how she wanted to show off her newborn baby - she wanted to have visited the beauty parlor and dress her son up in his finest - today she had barely even managed to pull a brush through her ponytail and Jake’s sailor top was looking distinctly dribbled upon.
By the time they were shown into a small room near the infirmary via a junior nurse who Knew Nothing, her mouth was dry, her head was pounding, and even getting over to one of the institutional chairs was difficult. Daniel hung around behind her like some human form vulture, the FLO was installed in the seat next to her while Sam studiously avoided Kirsty’s attempts to hold her hand. When Carolyn Lam finally marched through the door, Sam’s jaw muscles were fit for bursting.
She didn’t miss the silent exchange between the two doctors.
~ Is she okay? ~
~ I have no idea. ~
Lam was typically all business, something that some of the base personnel found intimidating and cold, but Sam revered smart women who knew their jobs, so Lam was held high in her estimation. The doctor gestured at the FLO with her thumb: shift your ass, honey.
A burble of Sam-hysteria threatened to burst its way to the surface.
Occupying the now vacated seat next to her, Carolyn cleared her throat. “The CT & my external examinations have led me to determine that General O’Neill has an untreated slipped spinal disc caused by a blunt trauma to the L4-L5-Sacrum area; he was hit with a staff weapon while attempting to escape. This appears to be mimicking a class D incomplete spinal cord injury. As well as loss of sensation and motor function below the point of injury, General O’Neill is experiencing further complications; primarily disturbance to his bowel and bladder function. There appears to be no indicators of the mental disturbance that the General experienced while be incarcerated by the Goa’uld Ba’al before.”
She paused long enough to take a breath and wave a dismissive hand at Kirsty who had once again opened her mouth to speak. “I have General O’Neill’s permission to reveal these details therefore you may have no concerns regarding patient confidentiality.”
She continued as the FLO closed her mouth and flumped back in her own chair; evidently Doctor Lam could read minds on the side. “There are some red flag symptoms, i.e. intense pain and I am concerned that pressure is being exerted on the nerve roots in the cauda equine; the spinal cord. I have requested the MRI unit at the Academy Hospital to be made available and a myelogram. At the moment the priority is to stabilize him; although he has several other minor injuries, they are mostly healed and there are no indicators of cachexia.”
“No indicators of what?” piped up Kirsty. She really was so young.
“They didn’t starve him,” offered Daniel quietly.
Sam watched as Lam chewed the inside of her cheek and raised her delicate eyebrows; there was more. “I’ve immobilized the area affected and prescribed pain relief. I suspect the treatment regimen will involve surgery, physiotherapy and possibly chiropractic intervention. I will authorize his transfer to the Academy Hospital’s excellent spinal unit once I’m satisfied he can be moved without further risk. Do you have any questions?”
The last sentences had run on so quickly that Sam was still trying to process it all.
“So, the General is paralyzed below the waist?” clarified Kirsty.
Lam nodded. “Yes.”
“But slipped discs are treatable as you say; he’ll recover now he’s receiving treatment, right?” Daniel cut in.
The doctor held his gaze a moment before replying. “Usually, but from what we can determine, General O’Neill sustained this injury four months ago. Worst case scenario; the damage could be permanent.”
Jackson let it slip. “Oh, shit.”
Sam’s vision had been focused on her snoozing child, but now it had blurred. Jake had morphed into a misty blob, like one of Nirrti’s genetic experiments gone horribly wrong. Jack would hate being paralyzed; the man was never still, how had he gotten through those days?
Screw what Carolyn said about ‘no mental disturbance’ - Jack was a past master at dodging the psychs. Crippled mentally and physically - what sort of mess was he in? Could she handle that with a newborn baby? Was she so lacking in love and moral fiber that she could not contemplate a future with a disabled lover?
Sam felt a cool hand on her wrist; Carolyn was taking her pulse. She calmly extricated her skin from the doctor’s grip and folded her hands in her lap. Carolyn’s voice was low enough for the conversation to be deemed private even though the other two people in the room could hear what was being said. “You may have been discharged from my infirmary, Colonel Carter, but I still have a duty of care towards you and your infant.” She underpinned the meaning with a Hard Stare. “General O’Neill has not been informed of your arrival and I can keep it that way.”
Sam closed her eyes to focus on priorities. In multi-task environments, prioritization is the key to success.
Her son. Her son was the priority - Jack would be very well cared for and Sam knew Carolyn could stall him with the truth as to where she was. Jake needed her to be mom right now, not go waltzing off to play nursemaid to his father. She contemplated the sleeping infant nested in his stroller beside her, his rosebud mouth working in his sleep - he had been asleep for a couple of hours; why wasn’t he waking up?
As if on cue, Jake shifted under his blanket, screwed up his face and began to cry.
And to her horror, so did she.
***
Forty-seven minutes later Jake’s wails were silenced by yet another feed and she regained her composure, evinced by the fact that her hands barely trembled as she checked her breast pads and buttoned up her blouse.
She actually felt a bit better and was almost enjoying Carolyn and Daniel hovering in the background whispering words like ‘shock’ and ‘stress’ and ‘hormones’ while she pretended to play peek-a-boo with her once-again sleepy son.
Weeping and wailing had achieved two more things. Firstly, the FLO had taken the hint and high-tailed it outta dodge, ably encouraged by Dr. Lam, bless her. Secondly, Daniel had brought her the largest hot chocolate she had ever seen, complete with whipped cream and bedecked with crushed M&Ms. He must have slept with the mess hall sergeant! She sipped at the liquid, careful to hold the mug well away from her infant’s delicate body. Delicate? Who was she kidding! So much for breastfeeding producing skinny babies; Jake was built like a miniature sumo wrestler, with long legs like his father’s.
His father.
He had to right to know - and not just when Samantha Carter felt like telling him.
Draining the liquid, Sam plunked the mug down on the chair next to her.
“I’m ready,” she proclaimed, as dramatically as she could.
It didn’t take long to entrust her son to the care of his Uncle Daniel and following Carolyn Lam and her ‘You don’t have to tell him about Jake today’ placates, she strode along the gray tubular corridors and concentrated on the green line. Green. Green is good. Green for go. Green for the rolling Minnesotan landscape that she had come to love just as much as her lover.
‘C’ corridor on Level 21 was like home - she fancied she knew every twist and turn, every imperfection in the plasterwork, and the infirmary was practically a stone’s throw from her own lab… with lockable blast doors that she could pull closed against the world. She had paced those corridors a million times, engaged in mental calculus, trying to clear her head after an all-nighter and praying for yet another friend or loved one languishing behind hospital privacy curtains.
She waited a moment while she heard a brief and muted exchange between doctor and patient - and an exclamation of joy that unmistakably came from Jack which set her heart thumping.
And here she was.
And there was another privacy curtain to be pushed aside.
And then there he was; pale and strapped at a strange angle to some sort of spinal board, IVs snaking out from rumpled sheets and blankets and his attention momentarily distracted by Dr. Lam as she checked the EKG monitor.
They may not have starved him but he definitely looked much thinner.
His hair had grown, hanging dark and limp around his badly-shaved face.
Her legs rooted to the spot, her tongue frozen.
Their eyes met.
“Sam.”
Just her name spoken aloud by him was enough to turn her stomach inside out.
And he smiled at her, that deep creased, crinkly-eyed smile that he bestowed on people so rarely.
Then he chuffed. “Well, the only thing that’s keeping you there is the force of gravity and that is something that you, Samantha Carter, know all about.” He raised his arms --
-- and she crossed the small patch of linoleum and was wrapped in them in 0.4 milliseconds.
“Oh God, Jack.”
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Later, she couldn’t say how long they had held each other but when she had finished shaking into his right shoulder and he had stopped murmuring into her hair, Dr Lam had gone and she was sure that several hours had gone by.
They parted, hands to each other’s face, eyes locked yet searching.
He spoke first. “I had a million things that I wanted to say to you, but hey, it’s all - balderdash.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “*Balderdash?*”
He nodded slowly. “Balderdash. Eighth grade Scrabble Champion, Saint Viator High School.”
Her right hand began to finger a new scar across his left temple that disappeared under his hair. He needed a good wash. “You’re making that up.”
She noticed a glitter in the chocolate depths of his mesmerizing eyes. “Am not.”
Letting out an amused breath, she began to shake her head. Memories of a magnifying glass and a fishing trip invite crept into her mind.
He pushed back her bangs and she suddenly realized he had noticed that he wasn’t the only one who had grown his hair during their separation. “Am not! Saint Viator High School, on East Oakton Street. They loved me.”
“We’re talking co-ed here, aren’t we?” As if she didn’t know about Jack from the Windy City.
She felt some loose strands being tucked behind her ears and his hands follow the hair down to her shoulders. “God, Sam, you look so good.”
Sam wanted to tell him then; she wanted to take his hands in hers and kiss them and explain that she was still on a hormonal high from childbirth and, by the way, did he know he had another child?”
She settled for turning her face into the long, lean fingers that were so welcomingly familiar and so horribly missed. Feeling his skin slide along her exposed ear, she let out a little moan and then stiffened when she realized what he was doing; her hair was loosed from its scrunchie and flopped down her back as he pulled it out.
He seemed to have trouble averting his gaze and clearing his throat, he waved an arm in the direction of the monitoring equipment. “I know I don’t look so hot myself; I can’t feel a thing below my groin, but the doc says there’s a good chance of recovery and I guess the fact that I’m not flat out, stapled to a Stryker frame means she must be telling some truth.”
Sam nodded. “I know. It’ll be okay. I’m here now.”
They were staring at each other; taking in every line and crease, every scar and imperfection new and old - it was then that she noticed his pupils looked a little drugged-up. Maybe she should leave it for another day when he was less vulnerable?
His hands came to rest on his tangled sheets and then began to fiddle with her purloined velvet hair accessory. “You look so good.”
Smiling, she reached out and tucked a strand of his own hair behind an ear. “You said that.”
Catching her hand as she pulled back, his gaze was intense. “I mean it. I mean it like I never have.”
His palm was warmer and smoother than she expected. “Actually, I don’t think you’ve said that to me before.”
The forehead creased and the jaw worked. “I haven’t?”
“Nuh-uh.”
He sighed dramatically. “I’m such a dumbass.”
Screw vulnerability; he was lucid enough.
“Sam-”
“-Jack, I have something to tell you.”
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What was the protocol for a situation such as this? There were no guidelines to inform a gentleman of his illegitimate child born while he was being held captive the wrong side of Andromeda.
She did the best she could.
One hand (the one that didn’t have the IV), in both of hers, held firmly and earnestly. Five sentences; short and bittersweet. She knew them by heart because she had practiced in her head for months.
I have something to tell you that will be a shock; you need to prepare yourself.
When you left for *that* mission there was something you didn’t know, simply because I hadn’t had a chance to tell you yet.
I knew we had gotten pregnant sometime around that Groundhog Day Hop we went to at Petersen.
When you were declared MIA and the days dragged into weeks and months, I had to make a decision to tell people and carry on without you.
I missed you so much and that was the hardest thing I’ve ever, ever had to deal with in my life.
He stared.
And stared.
And stared some more.
“You - you’ve had a baby?” To his credit, he only blinked twice.
What else could she say? Ah, no, just joshin’
“Yes.”
He looked her up and down as she perched awkwardly on his bed trying to avoid jogging the spinal board. “When?”
Okay - she didn’t expect that. “Two weeks and two days ago.”
Jack broke eye contact and she noticed he was suffering from some sort of strabismus as his gaze flicked rapidly to and fro while he contemplated a chink in the privacy curtain. She had to swallow when she realized that there was no moisture left in her mouth. This was too soon. He was still in shock or suffering from PTSD? Maybe she should get Carolyn…
His eye line swung rapidly back, totally focused. “Are you okay?”
It was her turn to blink. “Uh, sure. Yes. We both are, Lam says it was a straightforward birth, but lemme tell ya, she *lies*.”
Her nervous grin faltered as a stony expression came back at her. Oh no - he was upset, angry even, he didn’t want another child! OH NO.
Sam began to release his hand as she totally refused to cry. It would be okay; she had faced the prospect of raising their son by herself and of course she could still do that, her only regret was that Jake would miss out on so much when he needn’t. She began to slide off the bed -
- to be waylaid by his hand on her arm and a gentle; “Where are you going?”
“I.. I..” Once again the power of speech had deserted her.
His face was now one of concern. She was so confused! What was happening here? Struck mute, she stood in a daze trying to read her lover’s - ex-lover’s? - thoughts.
He spoke again; “I thought I heard a baby crying earlier, but then I wondered if it was the class A drug trip.”
She released a shaky breath. “Oh yes; that’s His Majesty, I can’t seem to keep him fed,” she tailed off.
Tears formed in Jack’s eyes. Suddenly she did not know where to look as the grip on her arm tightened.
“We had a *boy*? We have a son?” He looked... joyful, surprised and - redeemed. Her head bobbed up and down of its own accord while she tried to remember to keep breathing.
He gestured between them. “We…?”
Her laugh was short and tense. “Yes!”
“I’m not in Oz, right?” His eyes glistened and the cheek dimples were getting deeper.
This time her giggle was a little more relaxed and she removed his hand from her arm (his grip was beginning to hurt) and dared to pass her lips over it. “No, this isn’t an alternate reality. As far as I’m aware,” she added as a precaution.
The next question made her head swim and her heart soar.
“Can I see him?”
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“He wants to see him,” Sam announced to the two doctors that had obviously been talking about her before she entered the waiting room judging by their hand-in-the-cookie-jar expressions.
She crossed her arms to reinforce the fact that she knew what she was doing even though she absolutely did not.
Daniel did his owlish blinking thing. “Are you sure about that?”
“No,” she acknowledged, “But it’s too late because I’ve told him. Carolyn, do you have any objections from a medical standpoint?”
To give the doctor credit, she wasn’t fazed. “Minimal barrier precautions to protect them both and I suggest you keep it short for today, otherwise no.” It was as though she entirely expected the scenario to play out like this.
Picking up her son from his car-seat-come-sleeper caused such a powerful sense of maternal protectiveness - she could have held him in her arms for an eternity but now it was time to share him with the other love of her life. She just hoped that the sensation of tight nipples she was currently feeling didn’t mean she would start leaking breastmilk - now that might *really* ruin the moment.
Carolyn excused herself, leaving Daniel and Sam alone. Her friend bent down to kiss her child as he nestled in his mother’s arms and then leaned forward to kiss her. On the cheek. Chaste. “I love you.” It was a simple declaration from the emotional and sensitive man and a side that others rarely saw nowadays - the fight against the Goa’uld and numerous other warmongering psychopaths had ensured he kept that part of his soul locked down tight, but she knew it was there nonetheless.
She spoke the truth in return. “I love you back, Daniel Jackson, and you know I couldn’t have gotten through the last nine months without you.”
He reached up to toy with her now loosened hair. “Umm… are you gonna tell Jack that I asked you to marry me?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Well not today, but it might be as well to keep him on his toes.” She winked and as she did so, she could feel her cheeks burning with an emotion that she hadn’t felt in a long time - pure unbridled joy and hope for the future - a lightness of existence. Even the euphoria of Jake’s birth had been tinged with sadness over the fact that he would never meet his father - and now that he was just about to, what point was there in denying her happiness?
As she gazed into Daniel’s kind and generous eyes she realized why she had felt conflicted earlier - she had spent so long building up her Naquadah enhanced emotional barriers that she had forgotten that she might be *allowed* to feel so completely and so freely happy again.
“Are you coming with?” she asked in a whisper.
He reached to stroke her cheek. “No. This is a private moment. But when you’re done, I want *details*,” he added.
She grinned. “Yasureyabetacha.”
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To be Continued
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It was only as they approached the CMC checkpoint off the mountain road that Sam remembered that she had left her ID at home; for the first time ever in ten years. There was the necessary but irritating delay while verbal permission was granted to allow her and Jake access to the base, facilitated by the fact that the guard commander was an old-timer who knew her by sight. Getting Jake down to the palm scanning station was made much easier by Daniel’s bright idea to bring along his stroller. The baby was transferred out of the car and onto the stroller without even a murmur and Sam began to give credence to the phrase ‘Klik’n’Lok’.
As she reached for the ergonomically shaped handle that You And Baby Will Love, Daniel grabbed it and winked. “You’ve done enough pushing for this one.”
She couldn’t even raise a smile.
What the hell was wrong with her?
Trudging behind Daniel and the FLO as they bustled their way through the corridors, she noticed Daniel’s grin getting exponentially bigger the further they progressed into the complex as various members of personnel stopped to coo over Jake.
Sam was able to feign gracious acceptance of their compliments and tried to keep her mind off her lover languishing several floors below. It wasn’t their fault they had no idea about him - the blast doors kept most things out for a while at least, including news of the return of a highly decorated, highly missing (believed killed) Air Force officer. This was not how she wanted to show off her newborn baby - she wanted to have visited the beauty parlor and dress her son up in his finest - today she had barely even managed to pull a brush through her ponytail and Jake’s sailor top was looking distinctly dribbled upon.
By the time they were shown into a small room near the infirmary via a junior nurse who Knew Nothing, her mouth was dry, her head was pounding, and even getting over to one of the institutional chairs was difficult. Daniel hung around behind her like some human form vulture, the FLO was installed in the seat next to her while Sam studiously avoided Kirsty’s attempts to hold her hand. When Carolyn Lam finally marched through the door, Sam’s jaw muscles were fit for bursting.
She didn’t miss the silent exchange between the two doctors.
~ Is she okay? ~
~ I have no idea. ~
Lam was typically all business, something that some of the base personnel found intimidating and cold, but Sam revered smart women who knew their jobs, so Lam was held high in her estimation. The doctor gestured at the FLO with her thumb: shift your ass, honey.
A burble of Sam-hysteria threatened to burst its way to the surface.
Occupying the now vacated seat next to her, Carolyn cleared her throat. “The CT & my external examinations have led me to determine that General O’Neill has an untreated slipped spinal disc caused by a blunt trauma to the L4-L5-Sacrum area; he was hit with a staff weapon while attempting to escape. This appears to be mimicking a class D incomplete spinal cord injury. As well as loss of sensation and motor function below the point of injury, General O’Neill is experiencing further complications; primarily disturbance to his bowel and bladder function. There appears to be no indicators of the mental disturbance that the General experienced while be incarcerated by the Goa’uld Ba’al before.”
She paused long enough to take a breath and wave a dismissive hand at Kirsty who had once again opened her mouth to speak. “I have General O’Neill’s permission to reveal these details therefore you may have no concerns regarding patient confidentiality.”
She continued as the FLO closed her mouth and flumped back in her own chair; evidently Doctor Lam could read minds on the side. “There are some red flag symptoms, i.e. intense pain and I am concerned that pressure is being exerted on the nerve roots in the cauda equine; the spinal cord. I have requested the MRI unit at the Academy Hospital to be made available and a myelogram. At the moment the priority is to stabilize him; although he has several other minor injuries, they are mostly healed and there are no indicators of cachexia.”
“No indicators of what?” piped up Kirsty. She really was so young.
“They didn’t starve him,” offered Daniel quietly.
Sam watched as Lam chewed the inside of her cheek and raised her delicate eyebrows; there was more. “I’ve immobilized the area affected and prescribed pain relief. I suspect the treatment regimen will involve surgery, physiotherapy and possibly chiropractic intervention. I will authorize his transfer to the Academy Hospital’s excellent spinal unit once I’m satisfied he can be moved without further risk. Do you have any questions?”
The last sentences had run on so quickly that Sam was still trying to process it all.
“So, the General is paralyzed below the waist?” clarified Kirsty.
Lam nodded. “Yes.”
“But slipped discs are treatable as you say; he’ll recover now he’s receiving treatment, right?” Daniel cut in.
The doctor held his gaze a moment before replying. “Usually, but from what we can determine, General O’Neill sustained this injury four months ago. Worst case scenario; the damage could be permanent.”
Jackson let it slip. “Oh, shit.”
Sam’s vision had been focused on her snoozing child, but now it had blurred. Jake had morphed into a misty blob, like one of Nirrti’s genetic experiments gone horribly wrong. Jack would hate being paralyzed; the man was never still, how had he gotten through those days?
Screw what Carolyn said about ‘no mental disturbance’ - Jack was a past master at dodging the psychs. Crippled mentally and physically - what sort of mess was he in? Could she handle that with a newborn baby? Was she so lacking in love and moral fiber that she could not contemplate a future with a disabled lover?
Sam felt a cool hand on her wrist; Carolyn was taking her pulse. She calmly extricated her skin from the doctor’s grip and folded her hands in her lap. Carolyn’s voice was low enough for the conversation to be deemed private even though the other two people in the room could hear what was being said. “You may have been discharged from my infirmary, Colonel Carter, but I still have a duty of care towards you and your infant.” She underpinned the meaning with a Hard Stare. “General O’Neill has not been informed of your arrival and I can keep it that way.”
Sam closed her eyes to focus on priorities. In multi-task environments, prioritization is the key to success.
Her son. Her son was the priority - Jack would be very well cared for and Sam knew Carolyn could stall him with the truth as to where she was. Jake needed her to be mom right now, not go waltzing off to play nursemaid to his father. She contemplated the sleeping infant nested in his stroller beside her, his rosebud mouth working in his sleep - he had been asleep for a couple of hours; why wasn’t he waking up?
As if on cue, Jake shifted under his blanket, screwed up his face and began to cry.
And to her horror, so did she.
***
Forty-seven minutes later Jake’s wails were silenced by yet another feed and she regained her composure, evinced by the fact that her hands barely trembled as she checked her breast pads and buttoned up her blouse.
She actually felt a bit better and was almost enjoying Carolyn and Daniel hovering in the background whispering words like ‘shock’ and ‘stress’ and ‘hormones’ while she pretended to play peek-a-boo with her once-again sleepy son.
Weeping and wailing had achieved two more things. Firstly, the FLO had taken the hint and high-tailed it outta dodge, ably encouraged by Dr. Lam, bless her. Secondly, Daniel had brought her the largest hot chocolate she had ever seen, complete with whipped cream and bedecked with crushed M&Ms. He must have slept with the mess hall sergeant! She sipped at the liquid, careful to hold the mug well away from her infant’s delicate body. Delicate? Who was she kidding! So much for breastfeeding producing skinny babies; Jake was built like a miniature sumo wrestler, with long legs like his father’s.
His father.
He had to right to know - and not just when Samantha Carter felt like telling him.
Draining the liquid, Sam plunked the mug down on the chair next to her.
“I’m ready,” she proclaimed, as dramatically as she could.
It didn’t take long to entrust her son to the care of his Uncle Daniel and following Carolyn Lam and her ‘You don’t have to tell him about Jake today’ placates, she strode along the gray tubular corridors and concentrated on the green line. Green. Green is good. Green for go. Green for the rolling Minnesotan landscape that she had come to love just as much as her lover.
‘C’ corridor on Level 21 was like home - she fancied she knew every twist and turn, every imperfection in the plasterwork, and the infirmary was practically a stone’s throw from her own lab… with lockable blast doors that she could pull closed against the world. She had paced those corridors a million times, engaged in mental calculus, trying to clear her head after an all-nighter and praying for yet another friend or loved one languishing behind hospital privacy curtains.
She waited a moment while she heard a brief and muted exchange between doctor and patient - and an exclamation of joy that unmistakably came from Jack which set her heart thumping.
And here she was.
And there was another privacy curtain to be pushed aside.
And then there he was; pale and strapped at a strange angle to some sort of spinal board, IVs snaking out from rumpled sheets and blankets and his attention momentarily distracted by Dr. Lam as she checked the EKG monitor.
They may not have starved him but he definitely looked much thinner.
His hair had grown, hanging dark and limp around his badly-shaved face.
Her legs rooted to the spot, her tongue frozen.
Their eyes met.
“Sam.”
Just her name spoken aloud by him was enough to turn her stomach inside out.
And he smiled at her, that deep creased, crinkly-eyed smile that he bestowed on people so rarely.
Then he chuffed. “Well, the only thing that’s keeping you there is the force of gravity and that is something that you, Samantha Carter, know all about.” He raised his arms --
-- and she crossed the small patch of linoleum and was wrapped in them in 0.4 milliseconds.
“Oh God, Jack.”
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Later, she couldn’t say how long they had held each other but when she had finished shaking into his right shoulder and he had stopped murmuring into her hair, Dr Lam had gone and she was sure that several hours had gone by.
They parted, hands to each other’s face, eyes locked yet searching.
He spoke first. “I had a million things that I wanted to say to you, but hey, it’s all - balderdash.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “*Balderdash?*”
He nodded slowly. “Balderdash. Eighth grade Scrabble Champion, Saint Viator High School.”
Her right hand began to finger a new scar across his left temple that disappeared under his hair. He needed a good wash. “You’re making that up.”
She noticed a glitter in the chocolate depths of his mesmerizing eyes. “Am not.”
Letting out an amused breath, she began to shake her head. Memories of a magnifying glass and a fishing trip invite crept into her mind.
He pushed back her bangs and she suddenly realized he had noticed that he wasn’t the only one who had grown his hair during their separation. “Am not! Saint Viator High School, on East Oakton Street. They loved me.”
“We’re talking co-ed here, aren’t we?” As if she didn’t know about Jack from the Windy City.
She felt some loose strands being tucked behind her ears and his hands follow the hair down to her shoulders. “God, Sam, you look so good.”
Sam wanted to tell him then; she wanted to take his hands in hers and kiss them and explain that she was still on a hormonal high from childbirth and, by the way, did he know he had another child?”
She settled for turning her face into the long, lean fingers that were so welcomingly familiar and so horribly missed. Feeling his skin slide along her exposed ear, she let out a little moan and then stiffened when she realized what he was doing; her hair was loosed from its scrunchie and flopped down her back as he pulled it out.
He seemed to have trouble averting his gaze and clearing his throat, he waved an arm in the direction of the monitoring equipment. “I know I don’t look so hot myself; I can’t feel a thing below my groin, but the doc says there’s a good chance of recovery and I guess the fact that I’m not flat out, stapled to a Stryker frame means she must be telling some truth.”
Sam nodded. “I know. It’ll be okay. I’m here now.”
They were staring at each other; taking in every line and crease, every scar and imperfection new and old - it was then that she noticed his pupils looked a little drugged-up. Maybe she should leave it for another day when he was less vulnerable?
His hands came to rest on his tangled sheets and then began to fiddle with her purloined velvet hair accessory. “You look so good.”
Smiling, she reached out and tucked a strand of his own hair behind an ear. “You said that.”
Catching her hand as she pulled back, his gaze was intense. “I mean it. I mean it like I never have.”
His palm was warmer and smoother than she expected. “Actually, I don’t think you’ve said that to me before.”
The forehead creased and the jaw worked. “I haven’t?”
“Nuh-uh.”
He sighed dramatically. “I’m such a dumbass.”
Screw vulnerability; he was lucid enough.
“Sam-”
“-Jack, I have something to tell you.”
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What was the protocol for a situation such as this? There were no guidelines to inform a gentleman of his illegitimate child born while he was being held captive the wrong side of Andromeda.
She did the best she could.
One hand (the one that didn’t have the IV), in both of hers, held firmly and earnestly. Five sentences; short and bittersweet. She knew them by heart because she had practiced in her head for months.
I have something to tell you that will be a shock; you need to prepare yourself.
When you left for *that* mission there was something you didn’t know, simply because I hadn’t had a chance to tell you yet.
I knew we had gotten pregnant sometime around that Groundhog Day Hop we went to at Petersen.
When you were declared MIA and the days dragged into weeks and months, I had to make a decision to tell people and carry on without you.
I missed you so much and that was the hardest thing I’ve ever, ever had to deal with in my life.
He stared.
And stared.
And stared some more.
“You - you’ve had a baby?” To his credit, he only blinked twice.
What else could she say? Ah, no, just joshin’
“Yes.”
He looked her up and down as she perched awkwardly on his bed trying to avoid jogging the spinal board. “When?”
Okay - she didn’t expect that. “Two weeks and two days ago.”
Jack broke eye contact and she noticed he was suffering from some sort of strabismus as his gaze flicked rapidly to and fro while he contemplated a chink in the privacy curtain. She had to swallow when she realized that there was no moisture left in her mouth. This was too soon. He was still in shock or suffering from PTSD? Maybe she should get Carolyn…
His eye line swung rapidly back, totally focused. “Are you okay?”
It was her turn to blink. “Uh, sure. Yes. We both are, Lam says it was a straightforward birth, but lemme tell ya, she *lies*.”
Her nervous grin faltered as a stony expression came back at her. Oh no - he was upset, angry even, he didn’t want another child! OH NO.
Sam began to release his hand as she totally refused to cry. It would be okay; she had faced the prospect of raising their son by herself and of course she could still do that, her only regret was that Jake would miss out on so much when he needn’t. She began to slide off the bed -
- to be waylaid by his hand on her arm and a gentle; “Where are you going?”
“I.. I..” Once again the power of speech had deserted her.
His face was now one of concern. She was so confused! What was happening here? Struck mute, she stood in a daze trying to read her lover’s - ex-lover’s? - thoughts.
He spoke again; “I thought I heard a baby crying earlier, but then I wondered if it was the class A drug trip.”
She released a shaky breath. “Oh yes; that’s His Majesty, I can’t seem to keep him fed,” she tailed off.
Tears formed in Jack’s eyes. Suddenly she did not know where to look as the grip on her arm tightened.
“We had a *boy*? We have a son?” He looked... joyful, surprised and - redeemed. Her head bobbed up and down of its own accord while she tried to remember to keep breathing.
He gestured between them. “We…?”
Her laugh was short and tense. “Yes!”
“I’m not in Oz, right?” His eyes glistened and the cheek dimples were getting deeper.
This time her giggle was a little more relaxed and she removed his hand from her arm (his grip was beginning to hurt) and dared to pass her lips over it. “No, this isn’t an alternate reality. As far as I’m aware,” she added as a precaution.
The next question made her head swim and her heart soar.
“Can I see him?”
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“He wants to see him,” Sam announced to the two doctors that had obviously been talking about her before she entered the waiting room judging by their hand-in-the-cookie-jar expressions.
She crossed her arms to reinforce the fact that she knew what she was doing even though she absolutely did not.
Daniel did his owlish blinking thing. “Are you sure about that?”
“No,” she acknowledged, “But it’s too late because I’ve told him. Carolyn, do you have any objections from a medical standpoint?”
To give the doctor credit, she wasn’t fazed. “Minimal barrier precautions to protect them both and I suggest you keep it short for today, otherwise no.” It was as though she entirely expected the scenario to play out like this.
Picking up her son from his car-seat-come-sleeper caused such a powerful sense of maternal protectiveness - she could have held him in her arms for an eternity but now it was time to share him with the other love of her life. She just hoped that the sensation of tight nipples she was currently feeling didn’t mean she would start leaking breastmilk - now that might *really* ruin the moment.
Carolyn excused herself, leaving Daniel and Sam alone. Her friend bent down to kiss her child as he nestled in his mother’s arms and then leaned forward to kiss her. On the cheek. Chaste. “I love you.” It was a simple declaration from the emotional and sensitive man and a side that others rarely saw nowadays - the fight against the Goa’uld and numerous other warmongering psychopaths had ensured he kept that part of his soul locked down tight, but she knew it was there nonetheless.
She spoke the truth in return. “I love you back, Daniel Jackson, and you know I couldn’t have gotten through the last nine months without you.”
He reached up to toy with her now loosened hair. “Umm… are you gonna tell Jack that I asked you to marry me?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Well not today, but it might be as well to keep him on his toes.” She winked and as she did so, she could feel her cheeks burning with an emotion that she hadn’t felt in a long time - pure unbridled joy and hope for the future - a lightness of existence. Even the euphoria of Jake’s birth had been tinged with sadness over the fact that he would never meet his father - and now that he was just about to, what point was there in denying her happiness?
As she gazed into Daniel’s kind and generous eyes she realized why she had felt conflicted earlier - she had spent so long building up her Naquadah enhanced emotional barriers that she had forgotten that she might be *allowed* to feel so completely and so freely happy again.
“Are you coming with?” she asked in a whisper.
He reached to stroke her cheek. “No. This is a private moment. But when you’re done, I want *details*,” he added.
She grinned. “Yasureyabetacha.”
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To be Continued