Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

Jack rolled over, his hand instinctively stretching out only to encounter cool, empty sheets. He sighed, rolling to his back and pulling his arm up to lay across his face. From downstairs he could hear the kids talking, arguing over who got the last of the breakfast cereal. Sara's voice occasionally carried up the stairs, corralling the kids.

They sounded so…so normal. Laughing and bickering, chattering and teasing. They didn't sound like a family that was hanging on by a thread. But they were. And it was his entire fault.

He still had nightmares, lots of nightmare. Memories kept flitting into his brain, memories that he knew weren't his. At first, it had just been feeling. An odd image here and there, but it had gotten worse after her used the healing device on Carter. It was as if in tapping into that inner strength, he'd opened the floodgates on a whole wealth of emotions and feelings.

That was one reason he was sleeping in the spare room. Insomnia and nightmares were bad enough on your own; they were even worse when your wife has a front row seat, asking questions he didn't want to answer.

And there was another reason, one that probably ate at his gut more than Jolinar's annoying and massively inconvenient memories. He hadn't made love to his wife in over two months. It wasn't for a lack of interest, at least not on his part. The few times he'd tried, Sara had said no. Well, not specifically and not at first. The first time she was tired, then tired again, then not in the mood. Then she started to stay up late, claiming insomnia. Jack had believed her…right until he found her sleeping on the couch.

He may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but he could sure as hell take a hint. Which was why he'd become intimately acquainted with the bed in the guest room.

Groaning, he pushed back the covers, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. It took him only a few minutes to get dressed and clean up; he'd slowly but surely moved more of his clothes into the guest room as well. He made his way downstairs, pasting a smile on his face before he walked into the kitchen. "Charlie, eat your oatmeal," he said, ruffling his son's hair.

"I'm eating froot loops," he corrected.

"I don't like oatmeal," Cassie chimed in.

"It's good for you," Sara said, taking her seat around the table. She looked up at Jack and motioned towards the counter.
"Do you want me to make you some toast?"

"That's ok," he said, grabbing a bowl. He poured a generous helping of froot loops into the bowl and splashed some milk over it, claiming the fourth chair. He ate, listening to the kids continuing to bicker, debating their chores. Jack ate, watching Sara out of the corner of his eyes. She slowly ate, avoiding him with her eyes.

"Dad, can we go to the movies tonight?" Charlie asked.

"Huh?"

"I wanna go to the movies tonight, but mom says you'd have to take us," he said.

"I have a PTA meeting," Sara said, her tone slightly defensive.

"That's fine," Jack said. "We'll go out, grab a burger and go to the movies," he said, deliberately casual. Sara sighed, getting to her feet and carrying her half full bowl to the sink. Jack got to his feet as Sara left the room. He followed her into the living room. "Sara? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she dismissed.

"Hey, I was thinking. Do you think Mike is free this weekend?" he asked impulsively, ignoring her mood. He knew if he said something, they'd fight. And he didn't want to fight.

She shook her head, frowning. "What?"

"What if Mike watches the kids? We could go to Denver, maybe take in a show, have a little time for ourselves?" he suggested.

"Jack-"

"Sara," he moved close to her, reaching out to take her arms. "I want to fix this," he said. "Please."

She stared at him, looking him in the eyes for the first time in weeks. The phone rang and she jumped. Jack glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. The phone rang again and he heard Charlie answer it. "Sara?"

"Dad!" Charlie called. "It's work."

Jack ignored him, his grip tightening on Sara's arms. "Sara?"

"Dad!"

She closed her eyes, pulling out of his grip. "Answer the phone, Jack," she said, turning on her heel and leaving the room.

Jack looked after her, taking a step to follow. "Dad, they say it's important," Charlie insisted.

He took one last look at the empty hall then spun on his heel, taking the phone out of Charlie's hand. "O'Neill," he barked, meeting his son's gaze. "Yeah, ok," he said after listening for a few seconds. He hung up the phone.

"We're not going to the movies are we?" Cassie asked.

"I don't think so," Charlie said.

"I gotta go to work," Jack told them.

"We'll go to the movies when you get home," Charlie said.

"We will," Jack agreed, bending over to give each of them a hug. Looking one last time down the hall, Jack bypassed saying goodbye to Sara. He grabbed his keys and hurried out the door.

<><><><><>

"What's going on?" Jack asked, striding into the control room. Carter was seated in the control room and she looked up as he walked in. He was glad to see her back at work. Between his time off because of Jolinar, and her taking time off to deal with her father's estate, the whole team had spent more time off duty than on duty the past couple of months. No to mention the whole mess with Carter getting her brain sucked by little gray aliens, and Daniel dealing with the death of Shau'ri.

Graham Simmons sat beside her and General Hammond stood behind the pair.

"Sir, about an hour ago, we got an unscheduled incoming wormhole. We received an IDC code but no one came through. We redialed the gate to P3W451. Apparently, a black hole has formed in that system," Carter said.

"That doesn't sound good," Jack said.

"It's not," Hammond confirmed.

"Who was there?" Jack asked.

"SG-10, sir," Simmons reported.

"Rescue?" Jack moved closer, stepping up and laying his hands on the back of Sam's chair.

"Not a black hole, sir," she said softly. "Anyone who goes through the gate won't make it back."

"We have bigger things to think about," Hammond said seriously.

"Sir?"

"It's the black hole, Colonel," Carter said. "Or more specifically, the black hole's gravity. The gate won't disengage."

"The thirty-eight minute window?"

"We passed that five minutes ago."

"Then shut it down," Jack said.

She shook her head. "We've tried, sir," she said. "It didn't work."

"The gate capacitors should have discharged by now," Simmons said.

"What if we cut the power at the source?" Jack asked.

"Sir?"

"That might work," Sam said. "General, if we cut off the gate's power source, that might be enough to make it shut down," she briefed.

"Do it," the man ordered. "Captain, I need to go report this to Washington," the general continued.

"The phones don't work, sir," Simmons said.

"What?"

"I had to go up to level sixteen to find a phone that worked to call Colonel O'Neill," he said. "The nearest secure phone is up at NORAD."

Hammond shrugged. "Then I guess I'm going to the surface," he said. "Carry on."

Jack watched him go, and then turned to Carter. "Sir?"

"The breakers?" he asked. "I'm guessing that's where I need to go to cut the power."

"Yes, sir. Sorry." She colored a bit, looking over his shoulder. "Sergeant Siler knows where they are. You'll probably want him to help you."

Jack nodded. "Siler." He motioned for the man to follow him and left the room. The two of them quickly made their way up to level 17, Jack using his card to gain access to the secure portion of the area. The breakers and main power units were secured behind a large gate.

"Carter, we reached the main power vault," Jack said, keying the walkie talkie he'd grabbed from the control room.

"We'll isolate the capacitors first," she said. "Colonel, pull breakers 90 through 94 on panel 6."

"Roger that. Stand by." Jack nodded to Siler and the man stepped over, wrapping his glove shrouded hands around the huge breakers. They flipped the switches, both cringing a bit as sparks started to fly. "All right. We're kind of shorting out up here," he said, stepping back to keep from getting burned.

"Colonel, pull the main breakers," Carter said.

Jack nodded, knowing that was what she was going to say. Siler grasped one of the large levers and nodded.

"Sir, we need to do this simultaneously."

"Gotcha. On one…3…2…1." Jack pulled down the breaker, having to use all his body weight to accomplish the goal.
Sparks rained down on them again and Jack cringed, ducking as electricity arced out from the panel, striking Siler.

"Colonel, are you all right?" Carter called.

"Siler's hurt. Did it work?" Jack asked, glad to discover that the sergeant was simply injured and was still conscious.

"Negative, sir. Even with the power cut, it still won't shut down," she said.

"How's that possible?" Jack demanded.

"It must be deriving its energy from the black hole itself. I'm going to send medical up to you."

"Yeah, that'd be nice," Jack said leaning back on his heels as the emergency lights flickered on. "Hang on, Siler," he said.

"Yes, sir," the man muttered, closing his eyes. "Bet you wish you'd never answered that phone, huh sir?"

"What? Oh, you have no idea, sergeant," Jack said, sighing. The medics hurried into the room and he got to his feet, getting out of their way. He waited until they stabilized and put Siler on a gurney, and then followed them out of the vault, securing the door behind them.

Ok, so the easy solution hadn't worked. Now it was time to get creative.

<><><><><>

Frank Cromwell got out of the truck, breathing deep as he glanced around. Great. Just great. First time this year he'd managed to get box seats to a Rockies game and something just had to go wrong.

"Sergeant, how long have you been out of contact with this facility?" he demanded, catching sight of a young man who appeared to be stationed here.

"Coming on four hours ago, sir. But it was 'funky' for a while before that," he said.

"Is that proper military terminology? What exactly does 'funky' mean, Sergeant?" Frank demanded.

"Everyone was talking real slow, like when the batteries die on your Walkman," the man said.

"Uh huh." Frank shook his head. These kids got younger each year. "Will that shaft take me directly to Sub-level 28?"

"Yes, sir, but I don't know how you're going to get down there."

"Not to worry, we brought our own transportation. Gentlemen, hook 'em up," he ordered his men. He moved over to join them at the head of the shaft. Wilkins threw back the cover and Frank looked down, shining his light into the hole.
"Clear."

Frank hooked up his harness and perched himself on the edge of the opening. "Once you get down, our objective is to get control of this facility. If even half of what I've heard is true, there's some weird crap going on down there. Don't believe what you see and trust even less." He looked up, catching the eyes of his second. "Potter, you don't hear from us in an hour, you're not going to. You know what to do."

"Yes, sir."

Frank checked his rigging one last time. "Ok men; let's go bail out the geeks."

He slid off the edge and fell into space, his apprehension warring with his anticipation. Finally, finally he was going to know Jack's little secret.

<><><><><>

Daniel hurried down the hall, walking fast to keep up with Janet. "Did they say what was wrong?" he asked.

"They rarely do," she said, glancing over at him. The pair of them had been in his office, having a quiet mid morning cup of coffee when the alarms had sounded and the lights went off.

"What do you think is going on?"

"I don't know," she said, her having a slightly hopeless ring to it. She was stressed; he could hear it in her voice. She'd been stressed a lot lately, ever since her possession by the Ashrak. The whole experience had hit her hard and there were moments when he'd thought that she wouldn't recover. She'd been withdrawn and upset; clearly shocked by everything she'd been through.

Piecing things together, they found out that the Ashrak had jumped into her from one of the injured Nasyians in the hospital for treatment. She vaguely remembered the man reaching up with a bandaged hand to pull her down. The Ashrak forced itself into her, hiding out until it was able to accomplish its mission, to kill Jolinar.

"It'll be ok," he reassured her. "Jack probably just stubbed his toe." Daniel immediately regretted his words when she paused, an expression of unease crossing her face. "Janet-" He reached out his hand to comfort her, turning his head as a bright light cut through the dimness of the hall. They both watched as a torch cut through the evacuation hatch, brilliant white sparks skittering across the floor.

"What the hell?"

The door fell in, landing with an echoing clang. Several dark clad figures clambered into the hall, their guns at the ready. "Freeze! Up against the wall! Move! Move! Tags!" he screamed. Shocked, Daniel hurried to comply, doing his best to keep himself between the man and Janet. Janet dug under her shirt, pulling out her dog tags while Daniel could do little more than stand there, his hands awkwardly pressed against the wall. "Doctor Fraiser," the man read.

"Cromwell?" Daniel asked, finally recognizing the voice. "What's going on?"

"Doctor Jackson?" A hand on his shoulder spun him around.

"Yeah. Who the hell are you? Put that down!" Janet said, batting at the barrel of Cromwell's gun.

"Colonel Frank Cromwell, Air Force Special Operations," he introduced. "Five hours ago, all contact was lost with this facility. I am here to find out why."

"Colonel, I have been called to a medical emergency," Janet said.

"My superiors have reason to believe the SGC had been overrun by alien hostiles."

"Do we look alien?" Daniel asked. "Or hostile?"

"All I can say is that they've been misinformed," Janet said, annoyance rife in her voice.

"Hell, from what I've read about what goes on in this place, Doctor Fraiser, Doctor Jackson--hell, you could be one of them for all I know." He motioned his men forward. "You're staying with us."

"Colonel, I said I was going to a medical emergency," Janet insisted.

"And I said you're coming with us. Unless of course, you want me to hog tie you and send your ass upstairs." Daniel looked to Janet and shrugged, not liking the idea but liking being separated even less. "Move out! Take the six!" Cromwell ordered, his strident tones cutting through the hall. Daniel grabbed Janet's hand, determined that they were not going to be separated as they fell into step with the rest of Cromwell's men, letting the group guide them down the hall.

<><><><><>

Jack followed the medics as they carried Siler into the infirmary, surprised to find Carter and Teal'c already there. He hadn't heard that anyone else was injured. Of course, given the supreme sparkage he and Siler had experienced, it was probably a minor miracle that there weren't more casualties.

"Siler took a pretty good hit. How're you doing, Teal'c?"

"I suffered simple electrical burns, O'Neill. Nothing more," his Jaffa friend said.

"He'll be out of commission for a few days," Carter said, offering Jack a more realistic prognosis. A low rumble echoed through the room. Jack watched as a couple of the bottles on the shelf rattled, reminding him vaguely of the last time he'd been in an earthquake. He looked to Carter, seeking an explanation. For some reason, he didn't think it was an earthquake.

"Carter?"

"Gravity waves. Colonel, I assumed that the wormhole itself would insulate us from the black hole's gravitational field, but it seems that our space-time has begun to warp just like on P3W-451," she rambled.

"Will you stop that?" he said, suddenly frustrated with her apparent enthusiasm with their impending deaths.

"We're in trouble, sir," she said.

"Thank you. Think of something," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," Carter muttered.

Jack stalked out into the hall, his goal the control room. He never should have answered the phone this morning. Should have Charlie just take a message. They could have roped Mike into babysitting, jumped in the car with Sara, found a nice hotel and had some quality time together.

Instead he was here; roped into fixing a situation he didn't quite understand. A group of people marched around the corner and Jack stopped, raising he eyebrows at the sight of a group of troops invading the base. "Colonel!" Frasier said, pushing out from the middle of the group.

"Clear!"

"Cromwell? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Bailing your ass out, Jack," Cromwell said, motioning for his men to stand down.

"Is that right?" Jack asked sarcastically. "Go on," Jack said to Janet and Daniel.

"It's been five hours, Jack. Got everybody pretty worried upstairs. Where's the general?" Cromwell asked.

Jack frowned. "What's the five hours?"

"That's how long this facility's been out of contact with the outside world. Pentagon suspected alien hostiles."

"And they sent you?" Jack asked, pushing past Cromwell. His friend fell into step beside him, the troops trailing. Jack summoned the elevator, pointedly glaring as the car arrived and all of Cromwell's men tried to squeeze in. "Take the stairs, they're good for you," he quipped, pushing the button to close the door.

"You're such a prick," Cromwell muttered.

"Takes one to know one." The doors opened and Jack stepped out, leading Cromwell to the control room.

Cromwell whistled, stopping dead in his tracks to stare out the window. "So, this is the Stargate. What's the problem?"

"We gated to a planet that's being sucked up by a black hole. Very bad. Very dangerous," Jack said.

"And why is that?"

"Things tend to get sucked in."

The stairs clanged and Carter hurried into the room. Evidentially, she had taken the stairs. "Took the liberty of closing the iris, sir," she reported.

Jack nodded. "Captain Carter, Cromwell's come to rescue us."

"Sir."

"Pentagon was concerned you were under alien attack when we lost contact."

"How long ago was that?" she asked.

"A little over five hours ago. Why?"

Carter frowned. "My watch reads 1330 hours. What does yours say?"

"Running slow, Captain. It's almost 1900."

"Damn it. Colonel, I have to get off this level," she said, turning to Jack.

"Captain Carter." Simmons voice filtered through the speakers. Jack turned to see the man standing on the ramp, holding out some measuring device.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"The field is expanding. I'm reading over 7 gees at the iris," he reported.

"Keep your distance, Lieutenant. Sir, for some reason, the warping of our space-time seems to be in advance of the gravitational field rather than as a result of it. It's probably a lensing effect generated by the Stargate itself, but I can't be sure," she rambled.

Jack nodded, trying to follow along. "Don't even pretend you understood that," Cromwell said.

"The point is, sirs that time is passing more slowly down here than it is outside the mountain," Carter said.

"Time is time," Cromwell dismissed.

"No, sir, not according to relativity," Carter corrected. "Now with the intense gravity field of something like a black hole, time actually slows down."

"We're not in a black hole."

"Not yet," Jack said.

"But we are connected to its gravitational field through the Stargate and it's expanding in this direction like a bubble slowly expanding outward. That's why I have to leave, sir. I have to contact the Pentagon and try to find a solution before the gravity field extends beyond the gate room."

"I just came from there myself, Captain," Hammond said, striding into the room. "Colonel Cromwell, I presume."

"General Hammond." Cromwell snapped to attention, saluting the general. Hammond returned the salute.

"You just came back from Washington, sir?" Jack asked, slightly confused.

"There and back again. After someone upstairs managed to explain what was going on to me, we called an all-night session with the President and the Joint Chiefs. I've been gone nearly eighteen hours."

Jack frowned. "I thought you were on the phone."

"It means the time dilation is getting worse as the field expands," Carter said.

"That's the consensus. We set up a command post directly above, right on top of the mountain to monitor the expansion."

"I have to get up there," Carter insisted.

"The experts we consulted believe we're going to have to commence an auto destruct sequence to destroy the Stargate itself," Hammond said.

"Sweet," Jack groaned.

"They assure me that the gravity field now present around the gate will help contain the blast within the mountain and pose no threat to the civilian population."

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think so," Carter argued.

"If we don't try, we lose the planet right through that." Hammond gestured through the window at the stargate.

"We may well succeed in destroying the base, sir, but leave the gate and the wormhole intact. What happens to the planet then?" Carter asked, not giving up on her theory. He had to hand it to her; she could be like a dog with a bone when she set her mind to it.

"Orders have been given at the highest levels, Captain," Hammond said. "It is our duty to carry out those orders."

"But, sir-"

"The decision's been made, Captain. Don't forget those people up there've been working on this a lot longer than you have. It's what they came up with."

"Yes, sir," Carter said, backing down.

"I'm ordering the complete evacuation of the SGC, effective as of right now. I'll need two volunteers to stay behind in order to give our personnel a head start."

"I'll stay, sir," Jack said.

"Me too, sir," Cromwell volunteered.

"Anyone else?"

"Looks like you're stuck with me, Jack."

"Done! It takes two officers to initiate the countdown," Hammond said. Jack sighed, leaning back as the general moved forward, grabbing the PA microphone. "Attention! This is General Hammond. All personnel are ordered to evacuate this facility immediately! Repeat all personnel report to the main level immediately! That is all!" He gave the order to abandon the base.

Carter looked at Jack, silently asking for his support. He simply shook his head. "You heard the general, go."

"Wait five minutes, and then start the countdown. Good luck," Hammond said.

"Thank you, sir," Cromwell replied.

"Make sure you give yourselves enough time to get out, sir," Sam said.

"Time, right," Jack said.

Hammond and Carter left and Jack sank down into one of the chairs, doing his best to ignore Frank.

"Who's this?" Frank tapped on the screen.

"Henry Boyd. Good officer. Smart. Kinda reminds me of Carter a little. This was their first mission as a team," Jack said. "How the hell did you get this mission?"

Frank shrugged. "Volunteered."

"I thought you were smarter than that."

"The chance to bail out your ass, and finally find out your super secret job, it was worth it," he said casually, taking a seat himself.

Jack huffed, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "So, now you know. Feel better?"

Frank shrugged. "So that's your big secret."

"That's the stargate."

"And you go to other planets through that thing?"

"Upon occasion."

Frank shook his head, chuckling a bit. "You were always one who didn't know how to say no," he said. "Sara's worried sick, by the way. You shoulda been home a couple of hours ago."

"She's used to it."

"She shouldn't have to be."

"Oh, and you're home for dinner every night?" Jack shot back.

"I make it more often than you do."

Jack glared, his fist tightening in his lap. "Let's get set up," he said, pushing his anger aside. "Computer needs your authorization code before it'll accept the command. Go ahead and enter it." Frank annoyed him, always had. They were friends once, and still were in a way. The fact still remained that the main reason Frank was around and a part of their lives was because of Sara, because she'd brokered a sort of peace between them. "When the time comes, hit the 'enter' key on my mark and then run like hell," Jack instructed.

"Got it."

"Two minutes."

<><><><><>

"Put him down over there," Janet said, instructing the airman. They put the stretcher down and helped the man onto the cot. Feeling distinctly in the way, Daniel stood to the side as she fussed over the man, straightening his blankets and checking his IV.

He let her take care of Siler for a few more minutes before he stepped forward, gently grasping her arms. "He's fine, Janet," he said.

"I know." Janet sighed and smiled at him. "I just…sometimes I feel-"

"Like everyone's watching you waiting to see if you crack up?" he interrupted.

"A little," she confessed.

"Hey, I'm getting the same thing about Shau'ri. They're all walking on egg shells," he complained. "I think half of them are afraid I'm going to flip out."

"And the other half?"

"Ready to sell tickets," he quipped. She chuckled, relaxing a bit. There'd been a lot of death in their lives lately. First Shau'ri, then just a month after his return from Abydos, Sam received word that her father was in the hospital with terminal cancer.

She rushed to his bedside, only to return a few days later, distinctly subdued and equally closed lipped. It had taken him and Teal'c a whole Saturday night and a fifth of tequila to find out all the details. Chief among them was the fact that instead of greeting his daughter with open arms, she'd been met with a terse 'I'm fine' and the very strong suggestion that she go home and leave him alone.

Sam had acceded to his wishes, only to return a couple of weeks later, General Hammond at her side - courtesy of a certain colonel off-handedly commenting on the state of things in the Carter family. Hammond had been able to breach his old friend's defenses and get General Carter to allow Sam to stay.

She still refused to talk about all that happened during the month she took off, but Daniel felt they'd reached some sort of accord. In the weeks since his funeral, Daniel had noticed a sort of peace in his friend's eyes.

Daniel looked around, noting that Siler was still Janet's only patient, and that she now had three nurses to help her. "I think I'm going to go see if I can do anything to help," he said. "You gonna be ok?" he asked, lowering his voice and leaning close to her.

He and Janet had been spending a lot of time together in the past few months. At first, he'd done it to satisfy his curiosity. What Janet had survived was a lot like what had happened to Shau'ri, and while he couldn't help his wife, he could help Janet.

"I'll be fine," she insisted. "Go on. There's not much you can do here, unless of course, Sergeant Siler needs a bed pan," she quipped, her eyes sparkling evilly.

<><><><><>

"One minute," Jack said, glancing at the too slow second hand on his watch.

"Maybe the last one. You know Jack, we used to be close, real close," Cromwell said, moving to lean against the console.

"Yep."

"I was sick to my stomach when I found out you were still alive. I wanted to go back for you," Cromwell said, dredging up the one topic Jack refused to talk about. Over the years, the two of them had reached a compromise. Jack couldn't stand Frank. Sarah, however, demanded that the man, and their friendship, continue to exist, so Jack did his best to ignore him.

"Why are you here? And don't tell me that there's a sudden shortage of special ops folks. I know for a fact that you're out of the mission rotation for at least another month."

Cromwell shrugged. "So, I was curious. Can you blame me? Besides, Sara'd kick my ass if I let something happen to you."

Jack shook his head, checking his watch again. "Let's do this," he said, getting to his feet.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs and they turned, Jack frowning at the sight of Carter. "Don't activate the auto destruct, sir. It won't work. I have another idea," she said, panting slightly.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jack demanded.

"All the self-destruct will do will collapse the mountain; it won't shut down the gate."

"So?" Cromwell shook his head.

"So, sir, if we use the auto-destruct all we're gonna do is give the black hole a little more stuff to suck into it before it…devours the whole planet," she said.

"Then, what are we doing now?" Jack asked. "Get Daniel down here to talk it into shutting down."

"Actually, Colonel, we're going to blow it up."

<><><><><>

George Hammond picked up his cup of coffee and raised it to his lips, only to toss it out in disgust as he caught sight of a fly doing a backstroke through the dark liquid. "Now I remember why the hell I got out of the field," he muttered, tossing the undrinkable coffee into the grass.

Two soldiers walked past and George watched them, taking a moment to study his surroundings. A pair of jeeps were parked at the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain, effectively blocking the road. Tents dotted the area and people milled around, some of them obviously at a loss as to what to do.

By rights, George knew that he could have sent them home or to Peterson to work, but he couldn't. If O'Neill and Cromwell succeeded, then George knew he'd need all hands to help clean up the mess. If they failed, well then it just wouldn't matter much.

It was quiet outside the mountain, relatively speaking. There was still the constant thrum of cars going up and down the nearby highway. And a regular stream of helicopters landing and taking off from Fort Carson. It was almost peaceful, camping out in the grass. Fortunately, the weather was warm, so they were relatively comfortable.

"I don't care!" A woman's strident voice carried across the clearing and George turned, squinting into the sun. Two SF's were standing in the path of a woman, a civilian if her clothing was anything to go by. "I just want some answers."
Her voice sounded familiar and George walked towards her, knowing full well that, if she knew anything about military rank, she'd know that he'd have some sort of answer.

"Ma'am, this is a classified facility and-"

"I know damn good and well it's classified," she said loudly, interrupting the sergeant. "My husband's worked here for two years and I'm willing to bet that I know more about what's going on in the basement than you do," she challenged.

As he got closer, George sighed, recognizing the woman. "Stand down, Sergeant," he ordered.

"Sir."

"General, finally," the woman exclaimed, shooting the two SF's a vicious glare.

"Mrs. O'Neill isn't it?" he asked, nodding to the two men to leave him alone with her.

"Yes, sir."

"What can I do for you?"

"I need to know where Jack is."

"Mrs. O'Neill, your current status notwithstanding, you know that I can't tell you-"

"General," she interrupted. "My husband got called to work here over a week ago. In that time, I haven't heard a single thing."

"We have a bit of a crisis right now. People are busy," he hedged.

"General." She stepped closer, glancing at the two SF's who moved just out of earshot. "Even if Jack got sent on a…trip, he would call me and let me know. I've tried calling the contact number but it's not working. I've tried calling other members of his team but there's no answer. I just want to know where my husband is," she requested, her voice low.

"Colonel O'Neill is doing something of vital importance to this facility," he reassured her, knowing that, to a family member; his words were nothing but an empty gesture.

"General, please," she said. "I know that I can't know all that's going on but-"

"Sir." One of the SF's stepped forward. "I apologize, sir, but the package has arrived."

George turned, catching sight of a truck as it rolled to a stop, Teal'c barely waiting to jump out, his long legs making short work of the distance from the cab to the back of the truck. He turned back to Sara. "Mrs. O'Neill, I need you to leave now," he said, laying one hand on her arm. "I promise you, the very instant I know something, I will call you personally," he promised.

The woman ignored him, staring wide eyed as Teal'c hefted the large bomb out of the back of the truck, apparently entrusting no one to assist him. "This is big, isn't it?" she asked softly.

"Yes, ma'am, it is," George confirmed.

She slowly nodded. "Just don't forget where I am," she said. "I have two children that want to know why their father broke his promise to take them to the movies. I want something better to tell them than 'classified'."
With that, she turned on her heel and stalked back to her car.

George allowed himself the luxury of watching her leave before he turned to Teal'c. "Is that it, son?"

"Yes, General Hammond."

George nodded. "Get it downstairs," he ordered. Teal'c nodded. "Teal'c?" He turned back. "Wish them luck for me," he requested.

Teal'c nodded again and strode towards the entrance, his dark figure quickly swallowed up by the gaping maw of Cheyenne Mountain.

<><><><><>

"The g-suits should help you withstand the higher gravity on the way down," Sam said, helping Siler rig the ropes O'Neill and Cromwell would use to place the explosives.

"What's this bomb we're delivering?" Cromwell asked.

"It's a shaped charge. We want to focus the explosive force toward the wormhole, hopefully with enough energy to cause it to jump, like what happened to us in Antarctica," she said, knowing that Cromwell wouldn't get the reference, but that O'Neill would.

"Right. Where is it?" the colonel asked, not needing any more of a briefing than she'd given him.

"They're modifying the warhead's yield to my calculations and it's being flown in from Travis."

"How long's all that going to take?"

"Well, sir, with any luck, about 5 minutes, relatively-"

"Relatively speaking?" O'Neill interrupted her. Sam nodded.

"Anytime you're ready, sirs. I don't know how much longer that iris's going to hold," Siler said, interrupting them to cut straight to the chase.

"They have to wait for the bomb," Sam said. Right on cue, Teal'c hurried into the room, the bulky bomb clasped securely in his hands.

"You got better quick," O'Neill said, frowning at the man.

"It has in fact been several days," Teal'c corrected.

"Yeah. I knew that."

"Everyone who doesn't have to be here should go topside," Sam said.

"You said it was a shaped charge?" Cromwell asked, slipping his dog tags over his head.

"It's still a bomb, sir," Sam said, taking them from him. "Even though it's shaped, the blast wave will encompass the whole room."

"Cannot the bomb be detonated by remote?" Teal'c asked.

"It has to be set a certain distance from the gate and at an exact angle. The timer can't be set until they're into position because of the variance in time dilation," Sam said, sliding the harness over her hips. She planned to stay in the control room, if for no other reason than to tell them when to detonate the bomb. Also, there was no way she could just leave them alone to carry out her plan. They were going to risk their lives on her word and she had to be here.

"Man, she is-"

"Way smarter than we are. I know," O'Neill interrupted Cromwell. He took his own dog tags off and handed them to her. The two men moved towards the ropes, quickly hooking themselves in.

Sam stood back, the harness hampering her movements. Fortunately, Teal'c stayed too, his presence a reassuring force.
Both colonels slid down the ropes, their easy motions slowing as they got closer and closer to the pull of the black hole. They were talking and the further away they got, the more their voices changed, the gravity and time dilation making their voices sound more and more distorted.

"They appear to be moving very slowly," Teal'c commented.

"Only from our perspective," Sam said absently, her eyes fixated on the two men.

"Ah, Captain." Siler's voice broke into Sam's contemplation and she turned, staring as a chair rolled across the room, pulled by the black hole's gravity. A crackling sound filled the air and Sam felt her heart jerk. She turned back, watching in amazement as the thick bullet proof glass of the control room splintered and shattered, the glittering pieces falling towards the stargate like sparkling rain.

"Colonel! Colonel, look out! Colonel!" Sam yelled, trying to warn them. She watched helplessly as the glass flew by them, some striking home, others splattering against the iris. The metal wavered and crinkled, collapsing into the stargate as if it were nothing more than tin foil. "Damn," she muttered.

"Captain Carter?"

"The gravity," she said, her body pulling against the harness. It felt like she weighed several hundred pounds. Every movement was difficult, like she was trying to walk through mud. "The iris was protecting them a bit, but with that gone, I don't know if they can climb back up."

Teal'c shifted his weight, wrapping one massive hand around Cromwell's rope. "Then we must assist them," he said.
Sam did the same, taking O'Neill's rope in her hand. As she watched, Colonel O'Neill armed the bomb, punching in an impossible twenty seconds. As soon as his hand was clear Sam pulled on the rope. "GO Teal'c!" She leaned back, trying to use all her weight to get him away from the bomb. Siler moved to her side, lending his strength to hers. Her eyes fixated on the red numbers on the bomb, watching them count down. Fast. They were going too fast. They'd never make it. She'd never get him far enough away.

Ten.

He was too close. Only a few feet away.

Nine.

There wouldn't be any flame, not really. Just a blast wave

Eight.

It'd crush him, turn his insides into jelly.

Seven.

He'd suffocate, drown in his own body.

Six.

It was all her fault. Her idea.

Five.

He'd die because of her.

Four.

What if she was wrong? What if it didn't work?

Three.

Then he'd die for nothing.

Two.

It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve to die.

One.

How could she face Cassie and tell her that she'd killed her new father?

A brilliant flash of light assaulted her eyes and she screamed, barely having time to register a force slamming into her before the world faded to black.

<><><><><>

Headlights flitted across the front window and Pete looked up, craning his neck to get a better view. The headlights pulled into the driveway and he sighed, getting to his feet.

He padded to the front door, pulling it open and walking out onto the porch. Much to his relief, he recognized the car and hurried over to it. "Sam," he said as she opened the door. "I thought you were never coming home. Are you ok?"

"I think so," she said softly, releasing her seat belt. He stepped back as she slowly got out of the car. Spying her bag in the back seat, he reached in and grabbed it, then locked the door as she made her way up the short walk.

He followed her as she walked into the living room and plopped onto the couch. Her head lolled back against the cushion and she closed her eyes. Pete set down her bag and sat beside her. Her face was pale and scratched and white bandages covered both palms. "What happened to you?"

"A very long day at the office," she muttered.

"Hon, you've been gone for two weeks," he said.

Her eyes opened. "Huh?"

"You went to work two weeks ago."

"Two? Wow I didn't realize the time dilation was that bad," she muttered.

"Time dilation?" Pete asked, wondering if any of those scratches masked a concussion.

She nodded slowly, closing her eyes. "We opened a gate to a planet that was close to a black hole. The black hole's gravity was so strong it messed with everything, even time. As far as we knew, a couple of hours had passed but-"

"Two weeks," he interrupted.

"Mmhm."

"How did you fix it?"

She shifted over, nestling her head into his shoulder. She had to have come up with something, just because he knew she wouldn't be here if she'd failed. Or, at least, she'd be a lot grumpier. He was just hoping that she was too tired to regale him with all the details. He really wasn't in the mood for a long drawn out fifteen syllable word explanation of -
"We blew it up," she mumbled, sighing softly.

"You blew it up?"

"Mmhm."

"The black hole?"

"The Stargate."

"But I thought the stargate was impossible to destroy?"

"It is."

"But you blew it up?"

She nodded into his side. "Stargate go boom."

"Ok," he said slowly. "Stargate go boom. What do your bosses think about this?"

"He told me to fix it. I fixed it." She pulled her legs up onto the couch and shifted a bit, obviously settling in for the long haul.

"Hey," he said, giving her a small shake. "We need to get you to bed."

"I like it here," she protested.

"Yeah, well, my butt's going to sleep," he said, pushing her off him. He got to his feet and she groaned, flopping back down on the couch. "Come on, sleepyhead. You look like you're going to be sore tomorrow, you don't want to crash on this couch." He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting most of her weight as he led her back to her bedroom.

Once there he helped her onto the bed. She stretched out and flopped onto her back, watching him with heavy lidded eyes as he untied her boots, pulling out the laces so he could take the shoes off her feet. She reached for the buttons on her shirt, the bandages on her hand making her fumble. She finally unbuttoned the buttons and shrugged off the shirt, letting it fall onto the floor. "You want your jammies?" he asked, moving towards the dresser. She shook her head and rolled over, burrowing into the pillows.

Realizing that she was too far gone to do much, he grabbed the folded quilt off the bottom of the bed and laid it over her. "What time do you need be back?" he asked. "Sam?" he shook her when she didn't answer. "When do I need to wake you up?" His only response was a soft snore and he sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Let's just hope it's not too early in the morning," he muttered, turning and padding from the room.

After making a quick pass to secure the house for the night, he doused the lights and made his way to his own bedroom, knowing full well that she'd have one hell of a story to tell whenever she rejoined the land of the living.

<><><><><>

"Hey," Daniel said, sticking his head around the curtain. "You alive in there?"

Jack pushed himself up in the bed. "Depends on how you define alive," he muttered.

"Glad to see you too. Damn, Jack, you look like crap." Daniel sat down in the chair.

"It looks worse than it is," Jack dismissed. "How are things going out there?"

"Pretty good," Daniel said. "According to Sam, as soon as the bomb went off, the wormhole jumped to P2A-270. They just shut it down."'

"The off world teams?"

"All back, and all fine. There's a bit of a mess down in the gate room, but nothing too horrible," Daniel said.

"How's Cromwell?" Jack asked. The other colonel was in a bed across the room, still unconscious. From what Teal'c had told him, he and Carter had managed to get both men far enough away from the bomb to shield them from some of the blast. Some being the operative word. Jack still felt like he'd done ten rounds with a Mack truck, but considering the alternative was being smeared on the wall, he could deal.

"Janet says he's going to be fine. His concussion's a little worse than yours…and I'm supposed to tell you it's not a competition."

"Janet," Jack said, ignoring Daniel's last words.

"What?"

"You called her Janet."

"Did not."

"Did to."

"Not."

"To."

"Daniel."

"Ok, fine, I called her Janet," Daniel said. "What's the problem?"

"No problem," Jack said, relenting. "I'm just…Janet." He shrugged.

"We're friends. We talk." He sighed and leaned in. "She aah, after the whole Ashrak thing, she wanted to talk and…"

"You're good to talk to," Jack interrupted.

"I am?"

"Sometimes."

"Oh."

"Occasionally. Once in a while. Rarely-"

"Stop," Daniel interrupted. "I get the picture." He got to his feet. "Oh, wait." He stuck his hands in his pockets and pulled out two strings of dog tags. "Sam gave me these." He handed them to Jack. "One of them's yours and the other is-"

"Right," Jack interrupted, taking them from Daniel. "Thanks."

"Ok, well I'm going to go home and-"

"Alone?"

"None of your damn business," Daniel protested, his face coloring, confirming Jack's suspicions.

"Get the hell out of here," Jack said, rolling his eyes. "Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?"

Daniel left and Jack leaned back, sinking into the pillows. God, he was tired. His fingers closed over the dog tags and he raised his hand, carefully untangling the chain. His, he set to the side. He was used to wearing them while he slept, but right now he just wasn't in the mood.

He looked at Frank's, then glancing over at the man lying in the bed across the room. Frank had come through. And he now was in on their little secret. That was sure going to make things easier at the next barbecue. The hard part now would probably be keeping it PG in front of the kids.

Fighting boredom, he read the little piece of metal, frowning when he got to the blood type. A+. He never knew that. It was odd, as many things as they'd shared over the years; this hadn't been one of them.

Jack stepped back inside, shoving the pack of cigarettes deep into his jacket pocket. Reaching for his change, he made a beeline towards the snack machines. He bought some gum and expertly un-wrapped it, shoving a couple of sticks into his mouth. As he chewed, he walked towards the elevators, the sterile walls of the hospital now as familiar to him as the walls of his own home.

He'd been here a month now. And every morning Jack greeted the sunrise with mixed feelings. Every night that went by without a call meant that Charlie was still alive. Every night that went by without a call meant that he still wasn't awake; he was still in the coma. And every day that went by without a call, meant that the chances of Charlie ever waking up got smaller and smaller.

He rode up to Charlie's floor and got out of the elevator, pausing in the lobby. He didn't want to go back to that room, didn't want to spend more hours sitting there, not talking to Sara as they both listened to the mindless prattle of daytime TV. Didn't want to spend even more hours staring at the still form of his son, wondering if Charlie was still in there, if he was just sleeping or if he was never going to wake up an they were just delaying the inevitable. He slipped into the small waiting room off the lobby, seeking solace in the solitude of the room.

"You know, I feel sorry for him." The voice of one of the nurses wafted down the hall and Jack's ears perked up, morbidly curious. It'd actually be rather refreshing to hear someone else's tragedy.

"I know, poor guy," another nurse commiserated. "I mean, there he is, keeping a vigil and the kid ain't even his."

"I wonder if he knows. The boy could be adopted."

"It's not in the file. Anyway, you weren't here when the boy was brought in. The dad offered to give blood. If the kid was adopted and he knew he was adopted then he had to know their blood wasn't compatible. Trust me, he didn't know."

The elevator dinged and the women's voices faded. Jack slowly walked out of the waiting room, his mind trying to process what he'd just heard. No. They could have been talking about anyone. Hell, there were a couple dozen patients on this floor alone. And any parent would offer to give blood to save their kid.

He walked towards Charlie's room, pausing at the threshold. Sara was asleep, curled up in a large arm chair beside the bed. She did that a lot, spending the night awake and sleeping away the day. His eyes settled on the stiff plastic bracelet wrapped loosely around Charlie's pale wrist. He stepped forward, drawn towards the bed. Careful not to make a sound, he crossed the room, gently picking up his son's wrist. He squinted, struggling to read the blocky black print.

A+.

That was his son's blood type. A+.

Jack carefully laid his wrist down and reached for his own neck, pulling his dog tags out from under his shirt. B-. He knew that. Knew his own blood type. B-.

Sara's was O-. He knew that, remembered it from when she'd had Charlie. She'd needed a blood transfusion and he remembered the nurse calling out Sara's blood type. O- and B-…There was a lot of stuff Jack didn't know. A lot of trivia he never bothered to fill his mind with. But one thing he remembered from a nurse he'd once dated…B and O did not equal A.

Betrayal wrapped its icy hand around his heart and he looked up, his eyes settling on the two quiescent forms in the room. He stalked from the room, knowing that he needed to get the hell out of here before he did something he was going to regret.

"Colonel? Are you ok?"

Jack looked up, the woman's hands pulling him from his memories. "Lieutenant?"

"You've been staring at the wall for a good five minutes. Are you ok, sir?" Rush asked.

"Fine," Jack said, forcing a small smile on his face. "I'm fine."

"If you say so, sir," she said skeptically. "Can I get you something to help you sleep?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you." Jack dismissed the woman, lying back in the bed to encourage her to leave. Fortunately, she complied and he was left alone. His fingers running over the raised letters on the slip of metal in his hand he stared across the room, his gaze fixated on the supine figure. It couldn't be true….could it?

<><><><><>

"Looks like your dad's home," Sara said, recognizing Jack's truck as she pulled up in front of the house.

"Finally!" Charlie yelled. "I didn't think he was ever coming home."

"Does this mean we can go and see the movie now?" Cassie asked.

"We'll have to talk to your dad about that." Sara put the car into park and pulled the keys from the ignition. "He might not feel like going out just now."

"He will," Charlie insisted, opening the car door. "He promised."

Cassie followed him and the pair of them hurried up the walk, leaving Sara to grab the two bags of groceries. She walked into the house, smiling at the trio of voices coming from the living room. A quick glance confirmed that jack was seated on the couch, a kid on each side. They were laughing and chatting, faster than Sara could decipher their words.

She put the groceries away, letting them have their reunion. The front screen door slammed and suddenly the house was quiet. She sensed Jack joining her. "Where are the kids?"

"Playing outside," he said. "We need to talk."

Sara turned, the serious tone of his voice making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. "Jack? What's wrong?"

He moved closer, digging in his pocket. He pulled out a set of dog tags and held them out for her. "What are these?"
"Frank's ok by the way," he said, dropping the tags into her hand.

"That's good but…"

"You know, the Jaffa, they got a phrase…Del Mar to kim…or something like that." Sara stared, her husband's strange words puzzling her. "Loosely translated, it means cuckold. Which is a term I never thought would apply to me." His voice was cold and he stared at her, his eyes riveted to hers.

"Jack…"

"You know, I've actually known for years. I'd finally convinced myself that biology didn't matter. I raised him, fed him, and changed his diapers. Charlie's my son, even if I wasn't around when he was conceived."

"Jack-"

"Is that what you two do when I'm off-world? Is that why Frank's always around? Why you were so damned concerned that we stay friends? How many times, Sara? How many times has he slept in our bed?"

"Jack, it's not like that," she protested.

"So, it is Frank. He's Charlie's dad," Jack accused. Sara stared, realizing the magnitude of her error. He nodded slowly.
"You can reach me at the mountain. When I find somewhere else, I'll let you know."

Sara shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. She stepped forward, reaching out to take his arm. "Jack, please-"

He shrugged her hand off, pulling back. "Tell the kids I'll be by Friday night. We'll do our movie then."

He turned on his heel and stalked out of the house, leaving her alone. Silence swarmed around her and she sank onto the chair, her shaking hand covering her mouth. Her wedding ring glinted dully in the light, the golden sparkle mocking her as the finality of her situation sank in.

It was over.

~Fin~

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