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Nightwatch

by CSuzy
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Sam enjoyed the night watches. Especially these missions where there were no physical threats to the team. Yes, there were a few missions that weren’t for the adrenaline junkie, just little trips to the forest, or mountains, or ruins. Or maybe a trip to check the address as a possible relocation site for a threatened group of people. Perhaps Daniel needed to rummage around some interesting rocks or artifacts. It was almost a vacation without the vacation, a time to relax and think. The night watches on these trips were especially conducive to rumination. Maybe too conducive.

 

She sat just inside the tent flap tying her boots while she watched Colonel O’Neill scuff the dirt around the fire circle to make sure all the coals were where they belonged, before reaching for another log to place on top. He would expect her to relieve him soon. She saw him glance skyward, taking in the stars and the twin moons. Sighing loudly, he sat on the large log that was serving as a chair and yawned. Removing his cap, he ran his hand through his unkempt hair. The fire flickered back to life casting an eerie glow that illuminated the colonel’s face. He looked so tired tonight.

 

She glanced at her watch, noting the time and date. Ah. The anniversary of the event, an event he would have preferred she hadn’t learned of and a date she wasn’t supposed to know except for Daniel. It was a day Jack surely didn’t want to remember, but one that managed to rise out of the dust of everyday life and bite him in the ass, bidden or not. It must be the most intimate of torture. Sam saw it materialize on his face, caught in that unguarded moment.

 

She could see it reflected in his eyes, a need to know answers to the questions without answers. It was a haunted look – prolonged if he thought no one was looking, fleeting at other times. She wondered how he had dealt over the years. Charlie was definitely beyond his reach and Sara was . . .well, she had refused his reach in the ensuing days and months.

 

Sam understood Charlie and Sara more than Jack realized. She had an inside understanding that she was pretty sure he hadn’t considered. She’d been a military brat. She’d hurt for her mother who’d confided in Sam about the loneliness and abandonment she’d felt. How often had she and her mom prayed for her dad’s safe return, while he wasn’t there with them, for them?

 

As for her brother, Mark. . .Mark had missed his dad. Nothing could really make up for an absent dad. Frankly, Mark was having trouble being a dad since his “dad” role model was never there. The military was its own family and, if you didn’t belong, well . . . you became a casualty of it.

 

Shaking off her own unpleasant memories, Sam smiled to herself. Jack was doing dad/husband penance with SG1 whether he admitted to it or not. They were his kids and needed his guidance and protection. He was their leader, their head of the family, the decision-maker. By necessity, he had to leave Charlie, then Sara, behind; leaving his team behind was not an option. He would take care of them the way he’d meant to take care of Sara and Charlie. And it would be good.

 

Try to tell him differently but he would quickly deny any connection between what he knew was his job as a military officer and his voluntary self-punishment for his past sins. Carefully, he would veil his face in that non-committal look; eyes carefully blanked, face deliberately vague, and make some kind of sarcastic remark about his private life remaining private.

 

“Nothin’s sacred with you guys around, is it?” He’d say.

 

She was aware his sarcasm was a tool, even a weapon, to ward off the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.” It was his shield against reality and the unwanted stress that went with it.

 

Daniel played his brother/son role well. She chuckled to herself. Sibling rivalry at its best, belligerent contrary child at Daniel’s worst! All those “Did!” and “Didn’t!” exchanges made her smile and shake her head at the two of them. Those were good times.

 

Teal’c walked companionably by Jack’s side, always the brother, ever the equal. Warriors together. They suffered from the same military triumphs, losses, and familial casualties to prove that some things never change, even in a different culture. Teal’c’s son, Rya’c, still battled the demons of hate and bitterness common to military children everywhere.

 

And Sam? She played her own part, the dutiful wife part. She had felt the sting of abandonment when her mom had died and she was left to manage her family’s home. She would never experience that sting with Jack O’Neill. She might challenge his wacky ideas but deferred to the brilliant scenarios he conjured up; he considered her angles and alternatives in each situation. Her opinions were important to him. He relied heavily on her logical perspective in the difficult times. And, in return, she was reassured that he would always be there for her or any member of the team.

 

Things would never be the same but with time they had gotten better. Sam knew the team had become his surrogate family . . . a family he would protect at all costs. And, unlike Charlie and Sara, they were The Family he would never let down. Not now. Not ever.

 

Maybe this time he would let her be there for him as well. Sam retracted the tent flap to climb out and take her watch. She moved quietly toward the colonel. She placed her hand on his shoulder only to have him bolt from the stool into action with his zat ready.

 

“Hey, sir.” She greeted him with a smile.

 

“Geez, Carter, what the hell? Don’t ever do that again if you want to stay alive.” She watched his hand grasping the weapon shake visibly.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you hadn’t heard me.” She said.

 

“Musta been thinking too hard. I should be careful about that.” He stashed the zat and scrubbed at his neck with his hand. “I might sprain something.”

 

She laughed gently. “Seriously, sir, what’s up?”

 

Jack hesitated then searched her face as if deciding whether or not she could be trusted with his emotional instabilities. “It’s just that . . .” He trailed off. “It‘s been six years today since Charlie . . . died.”

 

“And you still blame yourself.”

 

Jack dropped down wearily on the large log nearest the warm blaze. When he gazed deep into the fire, his face appeared drawn and tired.

 

“Sometimes.” He said in a voice that was barely audible.

 

“It doesn’t change things, does it, sir?”

 

“No, it doesn’t. So why can’t I just forget and move on?” The edge of irritation was in his voice as he kicked at the dirt.

 

Sam sat down close to the colonel swiveling so she was knee to knee with him. She spoke quietly and with reassurance.

 

“Because losing your child in a violent manner is a major life crisis. It takes time to recover from something like that.” She rested a hand on the colonel’s leg. “Give it more time, sir, and don’t be so hard on yourself. Nothing you can do or say will change the outcome of that day. I’ve watched you day after day in the field and off world. Watched you sacrifice your own safety for others. The debt is paid, sir.”

 

“Nothing will bring Charlie back.” His voice was gravelly and his stare remained on the dancing flames.

 

~*~

 

Jack’s eyes broke away from the fire as he gradually became aware of the hand that burned an imprint on his thigh. Swallowing reflexively, Sam seemed to realize what she had done and started to pull her hand away but he quickly covered it with his own, drawing it toward himself. He turned it over and ran his fingers over her palm.

 

“Your hands aren’t a bit like Sara’s.” He said, deep in thought.

 

~*~

 

Embarrassed at her lapse of protocol…Sam tried again to gently draw her hand back but the colonel would not let go.

 

“Hey, no, you don’t, Sam.” He gave her a half smile. “I could make that an order.”

 

She relaxed hearing her first name come from his lips. “Sir?”

 

“Your hands are strong.” His thumb circled her palm as he spoke and then he traced a callous on one of her fingers. The tiny circles dissolved into a gentle hand massage. “Sara’s hands were delicate and manicured.”

 

Sam didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted as he reached across her to take her other hand.

 

“Very manicured,” he continued thoughtfully. “But somehow yours are just as feminine and you’re not nearly as careful of them.”

 

Her eyes caught the tortured look on his face.

 

“You know, sir. . .” she began.

 

“Lose the ‘sir’, Carter.”

 

“Ok,” she paused, somewhat discomfited. “Jack . . . I use a lot of hand lotion.”

 

“Sara couldn’t cope. Even before the accident, she tried to fill the void I left in her life with ‘things’. Nice clothes, the manicures or a new hairstyle. She even redecorated our bedroom but I let her down, Sam. Big time. I never want that to happen between . . .” He went silent, gently cradling her hands between his own.

 

“Us?” Sam twisted her head to look him in the eyes.

 

His facial expression went from thoughtful to stunned silence as he realized she had finished his sentence.

 

“Um, yeah, us. Ya know, I’d swear we share a brain sometimes.” His face bore an odd look somewhere between comical and puzzled. “Not sure who gets the better deal though.”

 

“Yeah, well, considering we’ve been to Ne’tu and back over the last four or five years together I suppose we’re bound to think a little bit alike.”

 

“Been meanin’ to ask you how you’ve been doing, you know, with all that’s gone down between us lately.” He smiled tightly. “With that Za’tarc testing crap.”

 

“What do you mean, sir?”

 

“Do ya feel you have to walk on eggshells around me or anything? Hell, do you think our mutual confession has affected your performance as an Air Force Officer? Be honest, Sam, cause if I thought for one minute our relationship would ruin your career, I’d be outta here.”

 

“I don’t think so but then I’ve realized I stress more when we’re separated in the field. On the other hand, we’ve become so much like family to one another. You and Daniel have this sibling thing going on and Teal’c. He’s big and is a formidable opponent but he’s like a brother to all of us. I can begin to elaborate all the things I’ve learned from you guys. I’ve gotten used to the fact that we put ourselves in harm’s way more than the average team and to lose one of you would be as bad as losing Charlie, or my mom or Sara. There are days when I honestly know how much I love you and care for you but keeping it concealed is much harder than I’d anticipated.”

 

“Well, given our current state of affairs there isn’t much we can do to solve that, is there? Ok, so maybe ‘affair’ isn’t the right word there. Never was too good with words.” He managed a chuckle.

 

Jack looked at the hands within his grasp. He raised them to his lips, pressing them there without actually kissing them. She could feel his lips move against them as he spoke. . .

 

“There are days, Sam, when I know I can’t survive if I can’t be the love of your life but somehow my sense of duty to God, my country and the Air Force manages to hold me captive.”

 

“And I worry, Jack, that our feelings for one another are so obvious that others don’t have to speculate. I feel like they see through me to my soul. Now that is just plain nerve wracking! People act differently when they are in love with each other but I want to do my job without having to think about being scrutinized for a breach in the regulations.”

 

“It’s true that for some, Sam, there has never been a need to speculate about our relationship. Some people, like Daniel and T, just know instinctively that you and I have a special bond. But there are others who watch and wait. They wait within earshot and their eyes are quick to see any tiny infractions. Take that slime ball, Kinsey, he’s just looking for misconduct – conduct unbecoming, and something that is detrimental to the team dynamic. Those who know us best know instinctively that our familial interaction only strengthens the team.

 

“I don’t think Kinsey’s ever understood how to care for someone else other himself, sir, um, I mean, Jack.” They laughed together. Then a mutual silence fell between them. While the fire crackled, lapping at the unburned wood, the flames cast eerie shadows over the campsite and the trees just beyond. Sam rested her head on Jack’s shoulder and they sat quietly as if joined in mind and spirit.

 

“Thank you, Sam,” He announced abruptly.

 

“For what?” She raised her head and looked him in the eyes.

 

“For being you. For caring. For knowing when I need a kick in the ass because I’m just feeling sorry for myself.” He placed her hands in his lap and leaned in to hold her face as his eyes bore into her soul. Gently, he kissed her.

 

After several moments, he pushed back, smiling warmly. She lowered her head and smiled shyly.

 

“I just understand where you’re coming from, Jack. I want to ‘fix it’ so it doesn’t hurt. And I can’t. I hate that I can’t fix it.” She spoke softly, her face flushed by the warmth of the fire within and without. When she looked up again her eyes were filled with tears ready to slip down her cheeks. She swiped her hands under her eyes and looked at him with sober intent.

 

“Seriously, Jack O’Neill, what I want you to understand hasn’t anything to do with how much you love me or I love you. I realize it helps but what you need to understand is that what you have done on the behalf of SG-1 has more than paid for any negligent actions you may still be beating yourself up for, and that your guilt over Sara and Charlie no longer fits in the picture. You can’t change the past. The whole horrid scenario is going to come back and haunt you but don’t let it intimidate you or control your life.” Her face bore a warm smile as she scolded him.

 

“Yeah I know. This is just one of those times I let it get a strangle hold on me, Sam.” He hung his head. If it weren’t for you, Daniel and Teal’c, life wouldn’t be worth living. I have a purpose in my life now. Each of you has a special way of encouraging me. I’m grateful for that.”

 

Pushing back, Sam turned towards the winking, blinking embers in the fire circle. The half burned logs dropped into the coals with a crack and flare of sparks flying upward like tiny dancing fairies.

 

“When I was a kid, dad would take us camping on one of those rare occasions when he actually had leave. He took the whole family and we would sit around the campfire, sing songs and roast marshmallows. It usually ended up with just Dad and me sitting alone at night.” She paused to remember those special times. “He taught me about the Ember City.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Dad would say, ‘Look at the fire, Sam. See all the embers down in there. Some are glowing and some are flickering like lights in a big city.’ Then he would tell me to pick one and he would sprinkle water on the fire to put it out for the night. He said, ‘Sam, when your ember goes out you can go to bed.’ So I watched and when the ember went out I would get up and leave without a word. Those are special memories. Someday we’ll make some special memories together as a family!”

 

He pulled her into his arms with her head resting on his chest. They sat for long while watching the fire as it licked at the remaining wood before finally settling into hot coals. Pulling himself away, he kissed her head.

 

“Well, major,” he said, “We won’t have a fire if you don’t get another log on it and I need some sleep.” Releasing her he scuffled around gathering his weapon and rose slowly from his seat.

 

“Yes, sir.” She smiled as they slipped back into military mode.

 

“Dang knees! Getting old sucks big time, Carter, anyone ever share that with ya?”

 

Laughing, she stood easily, and readied to grab another log. “Why, yes, sir, you do, all the time!” She teased.

 

He made a quick swipe to grab her arm and almost lost his balance over the fire. In turn, she caught him. Using this to his advantage, he trapped her for one last kiss.

 

“Now there’s something better than roasted marshmallows.” He teased. “I can’t begin to tell you how much better I feel.”

 

“For that, I’m thankful but too much of this kind of activity and you’ll never get any rest.”

 

“Oh, really, I need rest?”

 

“Yeah sure ya betcha” She laughed, and pushed him toward the tent. There was a lilt to his step now. Mission accomplished.

 

He turned back to her as he reached his destination, “Night, Marge!” He called out.

 

She shook her head in disbelief as he disappeared into their tent. ‘Sleep, Homer, you deserve it.’

 

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