AND NOT TO YIELD  BY DARCY & SAMI-J

Chapter 7

Twenty-four hours after he left Sara and Daniel to talk to people at the school, Jack was hanging on by his fingernails.

They’d talked to almost everyone on Sutton’s lists and come up with a big fat zero. No one had noticed any strangers or anything strange. The only people who’d been on the campus were those who belonged – school staff, teachers, a few parents, and of course lots of kids. All the kids and most of the adults had been accounted for and ruled out. There were still a few left to interview but Jack was losing hope anything would come of it.

Between them, Carter and Sergeant Fremont had gone through the department’s list of locally known child molesters. With Ferretti along for the ride, Fremont had taken a vacation day to personally check on every one of the bastards and they came up with nothing.

Which left Jack sitting here spinning his wheels.

He took a deep breath to clear his head. He couldn’t hide in the bedroom. He needed to take action, to get moving. This wasn’t the end of the trail. No way in hell could it be the end. Jack was tired and having trouble thinking things through. He’d been tired plenty of times in the past during tough missions and he’d always been able to fight his way through the exhaustion. Just like he was going to do now.

Not bothering to give the haggard figure in the mirror another glance, Jack turned away and headed downstairs. As he reached the first floor, he saw Sara sitting at the dining room table, staring at nothing. It hurt to see her in pain and he hurried over and pulled out a chair to sit beside her. He took her clenched fists in his hands and began massaging them.

“It’s going to be okay, honey.” It was all he could think to offer.

She yanked her hands away and glared at him. “Don’t say that!” she choked. “You don’t know if he’s okay, or if he'll be okay. You don’t know!”

Sara was as tired as he was and obviously not up for empty promises or reassurances. He didn't have much more to offer at the moment.

“I don’t know who took Charlie or where he is right now.” Jack spoke in a low and what he hoped was a reassuring voice. “You’re right about me not knowing those things. But Sara, I know our son. He’s smart and tough and resourceful and he knows you and I are looking for him, that we won’t stop looking for him.”

Sara swallowed and nodded.

Encouraged by her agreement, Jack continued. “The point is, honey, we can trust Charlie to act on what he knows and we need to act on what we know.”

“I don’t know anything,” Sara whispered and closed her eyes.

He put his arms around her, relieved when she allowed her head to rest against his shoulder. “I don’t believe that. It’s time to look back over everything we’ve learned the last few days and find things we missed the first time around.”

She sighed and nodded against him. “Whatever we need to do.” He was relieved to hear her despair replaced by a new resolve.

“Okay.” Jack loosened his hold and Sara leaned back in her chair and met his gaze. “Why don’t you start by telling me about the day you took Charlie to school to have the coach talk to him. Try to remember every detail.”

Daniel crept down the stairs, stopping on the third step from the bottom. This was the step Charlie always used to jump down off the stairs. It was stupid for him to think it was anything special. It was stupid, but he sat down on it anyway.

Since Jack was home for a few hours Sam had gone back to the Mountain to check out some possible leads. The military personnel were posted outside so it was just the three of them in the house. It was strange how empty the house felt even though everyone but Charlie was home. Daniel rubbed his burning eyes. On second thought, it wasn’t strange at all.

He could hear Jack and Sara talking in the dining room. They were doing what they’d been doing for three days now, trying to figure out what had happened, how Charlie had disappeared and who had taken him. Daniel lowered his head into his hands and blinked back more tears.

Please be okay, Charlie.

“Are you sure Charlie didn’t mention anything strange or different that happened while you were inside the school?” Daniel heard Jack ask. The man’s voice was gentle but he could hear the strain and wondered if Jack had slept since Charlie disappeared.

“For the thousandth time, no.” Sara answered so quietly Daniel barely heard her. “He hasn’t gone anywhere or done anything with anyone for the last two weeks, Jack. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” The guilt in his voice was obvious. “Still, I can’t shake the thought that we’re missing something.”

Daniel rubbed his aching head. Jack wanted to know if Charlie had mentioned anything strange or different. Not likely, since Charlie had barely uttered a dozen words in the last two weeks. The only time Daniel had actually been able to engage him in a genuine conversation had been the night Charlie disappeared.

Had Charlie mentioned anything strange or different that night? Daniel searched his memory. His brother had talked about Sara driving him to school. A faint smile touched Daniel’s lips at the thought of her machinations. It had been a good idea, trying to get Charlie involved in sports again to pull him out of his shell, even though the invitation by the soccer coach had failed.

Daniel rubbed his head again. It had been a good attempt by Sara but nothing strange had happened. Charlie hadn’t mentioned anything.

He sat up. Wait a minute. Something strange had happened. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to summon the memory. There had been someone else – a teacher, what had Charlie called him? Mr. Peterson, that was it. Mr. Peterson had said something strange... he had called Charlie ‘Cory’. Except he knew Charlie so why would he call him Cory? Charlie had dismissed it as meaningless. It probably was meaningless but it was the only thing Charlie had said that could be considered strange or different.

He should tell Jack. Daniel jumped to his feet and hurried into the dining room. Jack and Sara were sitting at the table holding hands. Daniel noticed how pale and drawn they looked and it struck him that if they didn't find Charlie, he might lose this family, too. He couldn't imagine the two of them going on without their son.

When they looked up Daniel shared his recollection. “It’s probably nothing but Charlie did say something strange the night... that night... before...”

“Tell us, kiddo.” Jack rested his hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

Daniel told the entire story and finished up by repeating, “It’s probably nothing.”

“It’s something, honey,” Sara assured him, leaning forward and hugging him.

“Something,” Jack agreed, his eyes narrowed.

Daniel watched and waited, wondering if it was really something or if they were saying that to make him feel better.

"Hold on a minute," Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. Daniel couldn’t see very well from where he was standing, still in the circle of Sara’s arm, but it looked like the list of people who’d been at the school the day Charlie disappeared. Jack scanned it quickly.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “He was there that day.”

Sara stood up so abruptly Daniel nearly lost his balance. “Evan Peterson. My god!” She ran her hand through her short hair. “When Daniel and I were interviewing people at the school two of them mentioned they’d seen Evan Peterson. I thought the name sounded familiar but it’s been so long – ” she turned an anguished look at Jack. “I didn’t make the connection!”

An hour later, Jack and Charlie Kawalsky were standing on the front porch of a neat, modest little house approximately five miles away from the O’Neills. It had been a frantic hour, with telephone calls to the school principal and the Mountain, while Captain Carter worked furiously on her computer. The most important information, however, had come from Sara. As a nurse in the pediatric ward of the local hospital, she had known the story of the Peterson family and was able to fill in a lot of the blanks.

With the information in hand, Jack knocked on the front door of the house, desperate for a confrontation.

“Easy, Jack,” Kawalsky said under his breath.

Jack gave the man a look. “No one asked you to come,” he growled.

“I volunteered, remember?” Kawalsky said with a slight smile.

Yes, he had. It hadn’t been so much volunteering as insisting and Jack was honest enough to admit he was glad for his long-time friend’s presence. If not for Kawalsky at his side, he might have broken the door down and rampaged through the place like a lunatic looking for his son.

The door opened and a thin, brown-haired woman peered out. “Yes?” she said uncertainly, obviously surprised to see two men in uniform – that had been General Hammond’s idea – standing on her porch.

“I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill, this is Major Charles Kawalsky. Are you Valerie Peterson?” Jack showed her his identification.

“Yes.” 

“We need to speak with your husband, please.” He tried to keep his voice polite but he was milliseconds away from pushing her aside and breaking through the door.

Something flickered across the woman’s face. Apprehension? Worry? Fear?

“I haven’t seen my husband in over two days.” Her voice was soft and trembling and Jack heard all the emotions he had just seen in her eyes.

His heart was suddenly racing. What had begun as a desperate hope now seemed to have some flesh to it. Kawalsky spoke first.

“May we come in, ma’am? We need to talk to you.”

A minute later they were sitting in a small, neat living room. Mrs. Peterson picked up a picture frame from the end table and handed it to Jack.

“This is Evan with our son, Cory.”

Jack studied the picture. The figures were sitting so it was impossible to determine how tall Peterson was. He was a slender, brown-haired man in his mid-thirties with a wide smile that probably had a lot to do with the little boy sitting half on and half off of his lap. The boy, Cory, looked to be eight or nine years old, and was a miniature of his father. Clearly, Peterson had pulled the boy onto his lap as the picture was about to be taken and Cory had been attempting to climb off when the picture was snapped. The laughter on the boy’s face mirrored his father’s. It was a warm, loving peek into a private moment that made Jack's throat tighten.

“The kid looks like Charlie.” Kawalsky was also looking at the picture.

The observation made Jack blink and take a harder look. Cory was a few years younger and not as sturdily built as Charlie, but the coloring and hair style were similar.

He handed the photo back to Mrs. Peterson and noticed the tears in her eyes. There was no need go into specifics, he knew the story. “My wife is a nurse in the pediatric ward. She told me what happened.”

Not quite a year ago, a drunk driver had run a red light and plowed through a crosswalk full of kids just getting out of school. Eight had been injured, three seriously. One, Cory Peterson, had been killed.

Mrs. Peterson nodded and blinked back tears. “Evan and Cory were so close.” She managed a faint smile. “Sometimes I felt a little envious of their closeness. It was very special. When Cory... died, it destroyed Evan. He had to be hospitalized...”

Jack knew that, too, thanks to Carter’s research. Peterson had been hospitalized in the psychiatric ward of a Denver hospital for ten months and released only a month ago.

His pity for what the man had lost softened his fury but his fear and concern intensified. If Peterson was so far around the bend that he decided Charlie was Cory, alive again, what lengths would the man go to in order to preserve his delusion?

“Mrs. Peterson,” Kawalsky said. “We need to talk to your husband. Do you have any idea where he is?”

She shook her head. The simple gesture was like a fist slamming into Jack’s gut. The woman had to know something. There had to be some kind of trail, something they could follow. There had to be.

“The last time I saw him,” she said, her voice unsteady, "was two and a half days ago. He had gone to the school to talk to Mr. Sutton, the principal, about returning to teaching this fall. When he came back – ” her face twisted and she wiped her eyes again. “He was different. I mean, he’s been different ever since... the accident. But since he came home from the hospital he’s been better, though I could tell he was still hurting. I think he always will. I know I will.” That admission brought more tears and it took her a few minutes to compose herself before continuing.

“When he came back from the school he was... excited and nervous and... I don’t know. It worried me but when I asked him if he was all right he said he was fine again. Those were the words he used, fine again.”

Jack's hands were clenched into tight fists and his fingers cramped. That was the same day Sara had taken Charlie to school in hopes of getting him involved in sports again. Of all the damnable timing...

He’d been ‘fine again,’ Peterson told his wife, after seeing Charlie at school, after calling him by his dead son’s name.

Jack forced down the emotions struggling to break free and asked the most important question. “Where do you think he’s gone?”

“I don’t know.” She looked frail and on the verge of tears again.

No, that wasn’t acceptable. Kawalsky started to say something but Jack overrode him. “There must be someplace – ”

Before the words were out of his mouth, Mrs. Peterson was shaking her head and Jack's frustration level neared the breaking point. Think, O’Neill, you’re a father, you can think like the man. Peterson was in the grip of a fragile delusion. He’d probably want to avoid anyone who wouldn’t help sustain it. That meant he wouldn’t come back here. So where would he go?

Some place that would reinforce his delusion. Maybe someplace he’d gone in the past with his son?

“What about vacations?” Jack asked. “Did he have a favorite place to go with his son?”

Mrs. Peterson shook her head again. “We took little vacations as often as Evan’s schedule permitted. There’s so much to see and do around here.”

Jack gritted his teeth. That was the wrong answer. “Think, please,” he insisted. “There must be someplace, maybe you’ve never been there but your husband and son have?”

Watching her, Jack recognized the precise moment when curiosity at what they were doing here broke through the woman’s worry over her husband’s absence. Her expression changed and she looked from him to Kawalsky and back again.

“Excuse me, but why is the Air Force interested in the whereabouts of my husband?”

Kawalsky answered. “We need to speak to him regarding a boy who was kidnapped two days ago.”

“You think that Evan...” Her eyes widened in horror.

Jack bit hard on his tongue, afraid if he opened his mouth he wouldn’t be able to control what came out.

Kawalsky smoothly filled in a few details. “There’s some evidence connecting him to the boy’s disappearance. That’s why we need to talk to him.”

Mrs. Peterson shook her head, in shock rather than denial. Pity for what she'd gone through, what she was still going through, helped Jack keep a lid on his emotions.

“Where might your husband have gone?” He tried again.

“I don’t – why are you here? Where are the police?” The woman was still shaking her head.

Jack went for the old standby he could repeat in his sleep. “The police are aware of the problem but the Air Force is handling it because it may concern classified matters.”

“Classified?” she repeated, looking even more bewildered. “I don’t understand.”

“I know and I’m sorry we can’t explain.” Jack was running out of patience. “We need your help. Please.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I can’t believe Evan – ” She took a deep breath.

“Please, Mrs. Peterson,” Kawalsky interrupted, sensing how close Jack was to exploding. “Whatever you can think of that might help.”

She closed her eyes momentarily. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But I don’t know anything.”

It was Jack’s turn to take a deep breath. She hadn’t answered his earlier question so he asked it again. “Is there someplace where your husband spent time with your son, someplace he might connect with him? Do you know any place like that?”

Before he finished speaking Valerie Peterson was shaking her head again. “I’m sorry, I can’t think of any – ” She stopped and something flickered in her eyes. “Some place...” she said slowly.

The tension was unbearable. It took all of Jack’s years of military experience to hold on. “Yes?” he encouraged, amazed at the calmness of his voice.

“There was a cabin.” Mrs. Peterson paused while she tried to remember. “It belongs to a friend. Evan took Cory there last year – ” the words caught in her throat and she stopped again, blinking rapidly.

They stayed quiet and after a moment she continued.

“I was back east visiting my sister while she was recuperating from surgery and Evan took Cory to the cabin for his birthday. They spent the week there and Evan said – ” tears filled her eyes but she went on. “Evan said it was the best guys-only vacation they’d ever had.”

“Where’s the cabin?” Kawalsky asked, beating Jack to the punch.

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Peterson replied. “As I said, it belongs to a friend -”

“What friend?” Jack cut in.

“One of the teachers Evan works - worked with.” Tears rolled down her sallow cheeks but he doubted she was aware of them. “Rob, no, I think his name is Ross, something. I don’t remember his last name.”

Even as Jack glanced at Kawalsky, the Major was standing, his hand slipping inside his jacket for his cell phone. “Excuse me,” he said and headed for the front door.

Jack turned back to the woman. “Can you think of any other place that might be special to your husband? A place he might connect with your son?”

“No, I’m sorry.” Her eyes were filled with so much pain that it took all his strength to meet them.

“That’s okay.” Jack rose to his feet, fighting the overwhelming desire to run outside to see what Kawalsky had found out. “I’m sorry for bothering you, especially over... this, but I appreciate your time. Thank you.”

Valerie Peterson stood up, too. “Colonel?” Her voice was so soft he barely heard her. “I can’t believe my husband would do... what you said. But if he did do it...” she swallowed. “Please tell that boy’s parents that Evan would never hurt him.”

Jack prayed she was right. Then again, she didn’t believe Peterson had taken Charlie in the first place so he couldn’t give much weight to her words. He didn’t dare.

“Thank you.” He felt awkward as he gazed at her, torn between pity for the Peterson family and fear for his own.

I’m coming, Charlie, he thought fiercely. Hang on. Dad’s coming.

Jack found Kawalsky outside on the sidewalk. As Jack approached, he turned and snapped his cell phone closed.

“I just talked to the principal,” he reported. “Sutton says they only have one teacher with the first name of Ross, Ross Latimer, a history teacher. He’s been home with the flu.” Kawalsky grimaced. “Which is why none of us have talked to him. I just tried the phone number Sutton gave me. All I got was the answering machine.”

“Address?” Jack demanded.

“Yeah, he lives a couple miles away.”

Jack rushed toward the car. Kawalsky sprinted ahead of him. “I’ll drive,” he said in a voice that left no room for argument.

“Drive like hell,” Jack ordered.

Fifteen minutes later, after nearly breaking down Latimer’s apartment door and dragging him out of bed, Jack had the information needed. Bundled in a ratty gray bathrobe, looking like death warmed over, a fever-flushed Latimer told them Peterson had come by two and a half days ago to borrow the keys to his cabin.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Latimer said plaintively. “It’s not the first time Evan’s used the place.”

Jack and Kawalsky double-timed their way back to the car and this time it was Jack who pulled out his cell phone. While Kawalsky laid rubber exiting the parking lot, Jack held a short, rapid conversation with General Hammond before being transferred to Carter. He gave her all the information he had on the cabin that he now knew was located in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, and within a few minutes she had the coordinates.

“Everything will be ready by the time you get here, sir,” Carter assured him. “I’m on my way back to your house now.”

“Good,” Jack acknowledged. "Stay there." He had a feeling this was it and whatever happened, he didn’t want Sara and Daniel to be alone. "Please," he added.

"On my way, sir."

"Thank you." Jack hung up, his mind racing through the possibilities.

“Colonel?”

Kawalsky had changed back from friend to military subordinate and was waiting for his orders.

“By the time we get to the Mountain a team will be ready and so will the helicopter,” Jack relayed.

Kawalsky nodded and their speed increased. Heedless of the scenery whipping by, Jack's thoughts turned to his son.

I’m coming, Charlie. Dad’s on his way. Just a little while longer. I promise.

Chapter 8

Charlie stared down at his pancakes, absently sticking them with his fork. No matter how good they smelled it wasn’t enough to make up for his growing uneasiness.

Despite how weird things had been the last few days, he’d been feeling pretty okay. Mr. Peterson insisted on calling him Cory, which had definitely been the weirdest part. Charlie tried correcting him a few times, but the sight of tears streaming down the man’s face shocked him. It also made Charlie feel like a worm so he decided to go with the flow and let his teacher/part-time coach call him whatever he wanted.

Otherwise, Mr. Peterson had been pretty cool. They’d listened to several baseball games and Charlie enjoyed the man’s comments. The part-time coach really knew his sports and it was fun talking with him.

Mr. Peterson also had several board games they played together. Charlie was familiar with Monopoly and Clue and Trivial Pursuit – Mom was the undefeated champion in their house when it came to Trivial Pursuit – but a few of them were new. The man was his usual patient self in teaching Charlie the new games and Charlie was surprised how much fun it was learning to play them, especially Risk. He couldn’t believe he and his friends had somehow overlooked such a cool game. When he made it back home, he was going to ask his parents if he could buy the game with some of his savings.

Charlie also found himself the recipient of some very tasty meals. Mr. Peterson was a good cook – not quite in his mom’s class but close – and he seemed to enjoy cooking while Charlie hung around the kitchen and talked with him.

Despite wondering from time to time if he should be afraid of all the weirdness, Charlie hadn’t been able to dig up even a shred of fear. Yeah, Mr. Peterson was occasionally strange but mostly it was fun to hang out with him.

All things considered, it had been a pretty okay few days. Then things started to change last night and Charlie began to feel uncomfortable. Where were Mom and Dad? It was time to go home. He wondered how Daniel felt the first time he realized his parents were gone, truly gone, forever. He stopped that thought before it took hold. That was silly. Mom and Dad were fine. Charlie was the one in trouble.

As best as he could figure, the real weirdness began while they were listening to the post-game show of the Yankees-Orioles game late yesterday. At the end of it was the usual top-of-the-hour two-minute newscast. There was a brief mention of a little girl who became lost during a camping trip but had been found safe and sound by rescuers earlier in the day. Mr. Peterson had immediately snapped off the radio and gone storming off to his bedroom.

He’d been gone for a half-hour and since it was the first time Charlie had been left alone in the main room, he quickly examined the front door and windows. The door had a deadbolt on it that required a key to unlock. Charlie had no idea where Mr. Peterson might have put the key. The windows were also securely locked so he sat back down with a resigned sigh. No way was he getting out of the cabin unless Mr. Peters let him out. It didn’t really matter, sooner or later his dad was going to come storming through the front door. Meanwhile, he guessed he’d just enjoy more sports and good food, courtesy of Mr. Peterson.

It was when Mr. Peterson came out of the bedroom that Charlie began to feel the first prickles of genuine unease. The man looked as if he’d been crying though Charlie was sure he hadn’t said or done anything to cause it. Mr. Peterson prowled around the cabin, repeatedly checking the door and windows and even going into the room Charlie had been sleeping in to check the little windows set high in the wall. Worst of all, whenever Mr. Peterson stood close enough, Charlie could hear him mumbling to himself. He couldn’t make out what his teacher was saying but the rambling stirred the tiny hairs on the back of his neck.

Charlie had hoped a good night’s sleep would make Mr. Peterson feel better but when he first laid eyes on the man this morning, it was obvious he hadn’t slept at all. If anything, he seemed even more distracted and, though Charlie still couldn’t make out what he was mumbling about, he realized Mr. Peterson was carrying on a conversation with someone Charlie couldn’t see. That's when the alarm bells began going off in Charlie's head.

He took a bite of pancake while keeping a discreet eye on his teacher who was standing near the fireplace staring at - nothing. It was beyond weird to watch the man talking to someone who wasn’t there. Charlie chewed slowly while his mind worked furiously. He wasn’t sure what to do but it felt like he needed to do something.

Mr. Peterson was suddenly kneeling in front of him, gripping his hands so tightly Charlie winced in pain, the fork clattering unheeded to the floor.

“I know!” Mr. Peterson sounded joyful. “I know what to do! They won’t be able to take you away from me again. I promise, Cory. I promise we’ll be together forever!”

Charlie wanted to speak, to protest Mr. Peterson's insistence on calling him Cory, he wanted to plead with his teacher to take him home. He would have, too, except his tongue seemed to be frozen to the roof of his mouth and he could only stare at the man, taking in his pallor-stricken features, frantic eyes, and the muscle twitching madly in his cheek.

Charlie's heart raced as he finally acknowledged the truth he’d been resisting for more than two days. Mr. Peterson wasn’t just sad or confused, he was crazy. He really thought Charlie was his son, Cory. And now he was saying – what was he saying?

Still clinging to Charlie’s hands, Mr. Peterson looked wildly around the room. “Mustn’t hurt,” he muttered before turning back to the boy. “I won’t let it hurt, I promise, son. I just have to – ” Though Charlie hadn’t thought it was possible, Mr. Peterson’s eyes widened further.

“I know!” He gave Charlie’s hands a squeeze that wrung a cry of pain out of him. Oblivious, Mr. Peterson stumbled to his feet and gave him a strange, watery smile.

“It’ll be okay, Cory!” His enthusiasm was scary. “I still have all the pills from those stupid doctors. We can go to sleep and we’ll be together for always. They’ll never be able to separate us again!”

He ran into the bathroom and Charlie heard him banging around in the tiny room. The sound startled him from his paralysis and he noticed his hands were shaking. If Dad was coming he wasn't here yet and time was running out. He was scared. Truly scared.

Was Mr. Peterson saying... did he mean... what Charlie thought he meant?

He had to get out of here!

Charlie jumped up and cast a frantic look around. The front door was dead bolted – no way out there. The windows were locked –

His eyes fell on the little table and that gave him an idea. He grabbed one of the chairs and carried it as fast as he could to the bathroom. Charlie peeked through the door to see Mr. Peterson’s back. He was rummaging through a little bag, throwing things out haphazardly and making a mess.

Charlie took a deep breath, grabbed the door knob and yanked it shut. He heard Mr. Peterson give a startled yell but ignored it as he shoved the chair under the knob to jam the door shut, a process made more difficult by his shaking hands.

Just as he thought he’d done it, Mr. Peterson yanked at the door. He gasped as it started to move, then it stopped, held closed by the chair. Charlie took a step back and jumped when Mr. Peterson slammed his fist against the back side of the door.

“Cory! What are you doing? Let me out!”

Charlie turned to run, lost his balance, and fell hard to the floor, his left arm twisted beneath him. He staggered upright and ran back to the table.

He grabbed the remaining chair with his uninjured right hand and half-yanked, half dragged it over to the window.

Mr. Peterson was crying and banging and kicking at the bathroom door while calling his son’s name over and over. Charlie glanced back and saw that the chair holding the door shut was beginning to quiver ominously.

Hurry!

Charlie heaved the chair up but it was too heavy and fell back. Gritting his teeth, he reached down to grip a leg of the chair with both hands and lifted it again.

Pain flashed through his left wrist and he let out a yelp.

Forget the pain.

Just do it. You can do it. You know you can.

The chair struck the window with a satisfying crash and glass flew everywhere. Charlie was aware of several stinging flecks against his face but fear and the burning throb of his hurt wrist were much stronger.

He swore when he realized he’d dropped the chair, and he hastily pulled it upright.

“Cory! Cory, let me out!” Mr. Peterson screamed. “We have to stay together!”

Trembling, Charlie climbed onto the chair and peered out the window. It was still high enough to make the climb uncomfortable but that didn’t matter.

He stretched as far as he could, reaching through the broken window with his good hand. Then he took a deep breath, or tried to. He was panting in terror and his breathing wasn’t what it should be.

Come on. It was now or never.

He jumped as high as he could in an effort to help pull himself through the window. A sharp pain stabbed his stomach but he was too focused to pay attention to it.

For a moment Charlie teetered, half in and half out of the window, then to his horror he began sliding backwards.

“No!” he shouted to the heavens and scrabbled desperately with his toes, seeking blindly for something to push against.

Heedless of the pain in his wrist, he brought up his left hand and grabbed both sides of the window frame and pulled as hard as he could.

His heart was near bursting when he felt a knot in the wood beneath his feet and pushed.

Then he was face down in the dirt, gasping for breath, shaking with effort and shock.

“Cory!”

Run!

Charlie staggered to his feet, fell, and jumped back up.

Run!

There was no safety in the clearing surrounding the cabin. No place to hide. Should he run into the woods? Or should he go back down the road, toward the city and people?

Run!

His frantic heart pounded, his breaths came in short, harsh gasps. It was hard to breathe and harder to think.

When Charlie raised his head, he saw the woods beckoning straight ahead.

Still trembling, he stumbled forward on shaky legs as fast as he could, cradling his injured arm with his good one.

Runrunrunrun!

“CORYYYYY!”

Jack checked out his MP-5 before slinging it over his shoulder. A quick survey of the room showed everyone else gearing up. It was eerily quiet. No one was talking; talking wasn’t necessary. They were professionals, most of them with a background in Special Ops, every one of them an experienced soldier hardened by countless battles.

They weren’t going to war today. Today was search and rescue with two notable twists, an eleven-year-old boy and a disturbed adult.

Jack took a deep breath to prepare himself. He had a routine he went through before every mission. Physical prep, motivating, mental psyching, he’d done them a thousand times. Not today. Today, he managed his usual physical preparation but that was about it. Motivating wasn’t necessary and the mental part was a bust. As much as he tried to focus on the details of the search and rescue, it was impossible. Reality kept intruding, reducing him to jagged nerves and raw emotion.

This wasn't like other search and rescue missions. This was for his son, his heart, the best part of him and Sara. This was for Charlie, and that simple truth was proving greater than the sum total of his experience and routines. If he stopped to think, the fear lurking behind his every thought would rush in and swallow him whole.

“Colonel?

Jack turned to see Hammond standing in the doorway and he moved over to meet him.

“Sir?”

The General’s eyes expressed his concern. “The helicopter’s waiting. And,” he smiled faintly, “the MALP was just delivered. Why don’t you bring your son home so we can see what’s on the other side of that Stargate?”

It took a minute for the words to register. Then he nodded his understanding and Hammond left the room. When Jack was back in control he turned to study his team as they finished gearing up. Kawalsky was saying something to Ferretti as he tied up his boots. Brown stood up so quickly he almost backed into Freeman and gave him an apologetic look. The others were in their own individual zones, he could tell. All of them were focused on the upcoming mission. Jack’s gaze lingered on Freeman. Besides being a combat veteran, Freeman was a trained medic. Jack's stomach tightened at the thought. Freeman’s medical skills weren’t going to be needed, not this trip. That's what he told himself. Nonetheless, he had deliberately chosen to include Freeman for just that possibility.

Jack banished the thought from his mind. “All right.” He took a minute to fold the bill of his cap and pull it down lower to shield his eyes. “Let’s move out.”

"What will be ready by the time who gets there?"

Damn it!

Sara’s question was demanding and contained more words than the woman had spoken since Sam first arrived at the O'Neill home. At first, Sam had tried to initiate conversation with Sara but it had been awkward. She had no idea what to say to a mother whose child was missing. Sam wanted to say that the Colonel was a superb officer and if anyone could find Charlie he could. But that sounded like an empty cliché. Besides Sara was married to the man, she knew him better than anyone.

Sam had offered to be there for the Colonel and his family because she'd do anything to help but the truth was... she wasn't very good at this. So, she had made herself available in case Sara wanted to talk and when it became obvious the woman preferred to be alone, Sam spent time talking with Daniel. After that, she set up her laptop in the Colonel's office and tried to stay out of the way.

The worst part about being here was the helplessness. Sam hated that feeling. Sara wasn’t talking but it was obvious she was going through hell. Sam ached to help but sensed any overtures would be rejected. Any opening had to come from Sara.

The long hours had turned into agonizing days. It had been Daniel who showed Sam to the guest room that first night and she had stowed away the few items she’d brought while wishing she’d brought more. The bed turned out to be comfortable, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep. She was too aware of the woman only yards away, whose rigid features hid unspeakable fear for her missing son.

Sam couldn't imagine what Sara was going through but she'd meant what she'd said to the Colonel. She wanted to help, she thought maybe having a woman amid the Marines might be a comfort, but Sara was locked inside herself. She allowed no one near her except Daniel and what they talked about Sam had no idea. The only thing she knew for certain was how inadequate she felt.

It would be a relief to leave this house, to escape from the cloud of fear and anguish that filled every room. A huge relief. But she couldn’t do it. Maybe she wasn’t doing much good here but she couldn’t leave, not if she ever wanted to be able to face herself in the mirror again. So she stayed and worked the computer and manned the phones, two things she was good at but two things she could, admittedly, have done from inside Cheyenne Mountain .

After two and a half excruciating days, Sara was speaking to her.

Sam looked at the frightened woman standing in the doorway. She hadn’t intended for Sara to overhear her conversation with Colonel O’Neill but it was obvious from her question that she had. Now what was she supposed to say?  

It wasn't an easy question to answer. The Colonel hadn't said whether to mention this hopeful development to his wife. He probably didn't want her to know. What if the lead didn't pan out? Looking at Sara's pale, drawn face, Sam wasn't sure the woman could take the disappointment.

"Captain Carter, who were you talking to just now?" Sara's arms were folded across her chest and her was voice was strong and insistent. Only her quivering lower lip gave away her fragile state of mind.

Sam didn't want to lie. She wished Colonel O'Neill had said one way or the other. Damn, she should have thought to ask. She was much better at following orders than at figuring this stuff out for herself. Especially when it involved emotionally-charged situations like this one.

"Captain Carter, please! Was that Jack?" Sara was desperate, practically begging. The rigid self-control she'd been hiding behind for nearly three days was crumbling and the sight wrenched Sam’s heart.

Sam wouldn't insult the woman's intelligence by lying. It was her son and she deserved to know the truth no matter what the final outcome.

"Yes, that was the Colonel. He had me pinpoint a location in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains ." Honesty was the least she could offer.

"Is that where Charlie is?"

That question was a lot tougher. "He doesn't know for sure but it's one of the places they're checking out.”

The excitement in the Colonel's voice had been clear through his calm request and Sam didn’t doubt he had good reason to suspect that's where Charlie was being held. Of course, that didn't mean Charlie was there or if he was, if he was okay, so Sam wanted to tread lightly with Sara. The Captain wasn't one to guarantee things would be fine without all the facts. She had never understood the rationale behind those empty, emotional promises.

"He's there." Sara raised her head to look Sam in the eye. "He's there," she repeated firmly. "I know he is."

"We don't know that for sure.” Sam moved closer and surprised herself by taking Sara's hand.

She tried not to acknowledge the cold fear in the blue eyes boring through her. She was a Captain in the United States Air Force. The Colonel had picked her to stay at his home in this, the gravest of circumstances, to be the cool, calm voice of reason.

"Jack wouldn't call for a helicopter if he wasn't sure." Sara wasn't letting go of the notion.

Sam had to agree with that. She'd been right that no one knew the Colonel better than his wife.

"I wish I was there."

Sam didn't blame her. She'd rather be there herself. Taking action was so much easier than sitting around waiting. The Colonel had been to the Mountain and to meetings; from the sound of it he'd been door to door, and now he was taking a helicopter up into the mountains. The only time Sara had left the house since the night Charlie had vanished was to spend part of a day with Daniel talking to people at Charlie’s school. Her feelings of helplessness were taking a toll.

"Do you think Charlie's okay?"

The voice was Sara’s but it sounded like a small child in need of reassurance. When Sam didn't immediately answer Sara squeezed her hand and asked again.

Sam bit her lip in an effort to come up with the correct response. Tears flowed freely down Sara's cheeks and Sam was shaken by the sight. It was the first time she’d seen Sara cry.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" she whispered for the third time.

Sam's eyes filled with tears. Damn it! She was military and she wasn't going to cry. She was here to be strong and logical and in control.

And to support Sara.

"I think he'll be fine, Sara." A few tears escaped. "I think he'll be just fine." Sam opened her arms and Sara collapsed into them.

"Jack's there now," Sara sobbed. "Jack's there. He'll take care of Charlie."

Jack wasn't there yet, but he was damn close.

The helicopter landed within a half mile of the cabin and before the skids were firmly planted on the ground Jack was out and running in the logical direction of where the cabin, and his son, should be located. Kawalsky, Ferretti and the rest of the team were right behind him.

"Charlie!" Jack yelled when the cabin came into sight. He took in the scene in an instant. A silver van was parked in the graveled driveway with plates that matched the one provided by Peterson’s wife. They were here. His son was here.

"Jack, wait!" Kawalsky bellowed behind him.

Jack didn't slow down as he burst through the front door. Dirty dishes filled the ancient sink in the little kitchen and a plate of soggy pancakes sat half-eaten on an old wooden table. Someone was here or had been recently. Jack turned in a circle, every nerve straining to take in as much information as possible. Next to the worn easy chair were several maps. Jack moved in for a closer look. If there was another vehicle involved and Peterson had taken Charlie to another location maybe these maps would tell them where.  

"Colonel."

Jack froze at the tone of Ferretti's voice. He'd almost forgotten he wasn't alone.

“The bathroom.”

Jack forced himself to the Captain’s side, his calm exterior at odds with the wild thumping of his heart. He froze in the doorway. The place had been destroyed but worse, much worse, was the blood on the walls, in the sink, on the floor. So much blood...

What in the hell had happened here? Charlie had narrowly escaped a gunshot to the head three weeks ago... did fate demand to be satisfied? Could God and the universe be so perverse? Was it Charlie's time and he and Daniel and Sara were powerless to change what was already ordained?

Jack stopped the thought from going any further. That was crazy. He didn't believe in fate. He believed in himself and his training and his people.

Focus, O’Neill, the experienced military soldier in him demanded. No one’s here. No one’s here.

"Colonel?"

Jack turned to meet Kawalsky’s worried gaze. “No one’s here,” he croaked and the Major nodded.

“The front bedroom’s empty, sir, but there’s some kid’s clothes in the dresser.”

Jack hurried into the room. After a quick survey of the dresser drawers he shook his head, not certain if he should be more or less terrified.

“They’re not Charlie’s. They’re for a smaller kid.”

His eyes met Kawalsky’s and he had no doubt they were both remembering their conversation with Valerie Peterson. Jack knew in his gut these clothes must have belonged to Cory Peterson. Kawalsky’s lips tightened and he put a hand on Jack’s shoulder before turning away and resuming his soldier persona.

"Higgins, second bedroom. Report!" he shouted.

Seconds stretched like hours while the marine completed his thorough search.

"All clear, sir. It's empty."

Relief flooded through Jack as he ran a shaking hand through his hair. He nodded at Kawalsky in thanks. Nothing could have given him enough courage to take those few steps towards that ominous room.

It took a few more seconds for Jack to collect his thoughts. "Look around. We need to figure out what the hell’s going on and if Charlie's been here."

The possibility that they had been wrong loomed large in Jack's mind. What if Peterson had nothing to do with Charlie's disappearance? If that turned out to be the case then all this time had been wasted. The more time that passed without leads, the less chance they had of tracking Charlie. Could Peterson be nothing more than a lonely man, so haunted by the death of his only son that he drove up to this cabin alone and took his own life? Except if that was the case, where was his body?

"Colonel!" This time it was Kawalsky. “Out here.”

He followed the sound of the Major's voice out to the large main room. Kawalsky was standing next to a shattered window that looked out on a peaceful tree-filled scene.

  "The window's been broken out from the inside," Kawalsky said when Jack reached him. "Charlie was wearing a blue shirt, right?"

Jack nodded as he stared at the broken window.

"We found this." Kawalsky revealed a piece of blue fabric, half the size of his palm and the identical color of his son's tee shirt. “There's a little bit of blood, too. Not much," he added hastily. "I think Charlie may have saved himself and gone out through this window."

Charlie's tee shirt. Charlie's blood. Definitive proof, his boy was alive. For the first time since he’d laid eyes on the blood-spattered bathroom, hope trickled back into Jack’s heart. Charlie had been here and he’d escaped. He felt a flicker of pride at his son’s resourcefulness but it wasn’t enough to diminish his fear.

"What do you think, sir?"

"He's in the woods.” Jack didn’t have to think about it. If Charlie had managed to escape from his kidnapper he'd run for cover. The graveled drive that led down the mountain offered no hope of concealment so he would have run into the forest.

Jack took out his cell phone and called Cheyenne Mountain to request help for a thorough search. It would take hours to get personnel organized and flown in. The request for the searchers was a back-up plan. He had no intention of waiting hours. He wanted Charlie home, safe and in his mother's arms, before nightfall.

Thank god for the other Charlie. Kawalsky might not be a father but he knew Jack O’Neill. Even while Jack was telling himself he needed to think this through he was already moving towards the trees. Kawalsky grabbed his arm and stopped him in his tracks.

“By the book, Jack.” His voice was soft but insistent. “Always start out by the book, remember? If that doesn’t work, we improvise. That’s what you always say.”

Training aside, Jack wanted to run into the forest shouting his son's name. But Kawalsky was right, so he allowed cooler heads to prevail. They needed to gather as much intel as possible from the scene. Maybe get a time frame of when Charlie might have escaped. They had no accurate way of knowing exactly when Charlie had left and how much lead time he had on them. It could be a few hours or a few days.

Jack shook his head at the thought. No, the blood in the bathroom was too fresh. Something had happened in the last few hours, blood had been shed, Charlie had escaped. And where the fuck was Peterson?

There was a worse-case scenario that kept revolving through Jack’s mind despite his efforts to shake it off. Something bad had happened, Charlie had escaped, Peterson had caught him...

Stop it. The evidence seemed clear. There had been a lot of blood in the bathroom but only a little bit around the broken window that Charlie had clearly climbed out of to escape.

“Colonel?” Kawalsky’s voice pulled him back to the here and now. Here and now they were back in the cabin trying to figure out what the hell had happened. He looked over to see the Major gazing down at a chair lying on its side near the bathroom door.

Jack knelt to take a closer look at the chair. The top of the rounded back bore several small, fresh dents and the bathroom door hung drunkenly from one hinge. He picked up the chair and fitted it under the handle of the door that Kawalsky was holding upright. The dents matched.

  “Peterson went into the bathroom.” Jack imagined the scene as he spoke. “Charlie wedged the chair under the door handle and then broke out the window and escaped.”

He rose to see Kawalsky smiling. “Peterson had to break the door down from the inside,” his friend finished. “It’s a solid door. It wouldn’t have been easy to do. No wonder there’s so much blood.”

Jack’s pride faded and fear rose again, hot and swift. “Charlie ran into the forest, and after he broke the door down, Peterson went after him.”

“My money’s on Charlie.” Kawalsky didn’t hesitate.

“Yeah.” Jack quelled all negative thoughts. “Anything from the outside team?”

Kawalsky patted the radio at his side. “They just reported in. Freeman’s got something.”

Jack followed him outside. Freeman was kneeling on the ground below the broken window. “Here, sir,” he pointed.

Jack’s heart rose to his throat at the sight of the small, distinctive footprints. Tiny shards of glass from the broken window sprinkled the ground but couldn’t hide the prints.

“They lead that way.” Freeman pointed toward the forest.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. He wanted to smile at Charlie's resourcefulness but the fear was too strong. “Any other prints? Man-size?”

“Not around here and once you get a few feet away from the cabin the ground’s too hard to hold much evidence of anything.”

“Sir!” The radio crackled so loudly they all started and Kawalsky snatched it off his belt.

“Report!” he snapped.

“We’ve acquired the target.” Brown spoke in a calm, professional voice. In the background they could hear incomprehensible yelling.

Jack grabbed his own radio. “Where are you?” he demanded.

“Two and a half klicks northwest of your position.”

“We’re on our way!”

Ferretti appeared and Jack wheeled on him. “You and Higgins turn this place upside down. You know what to look for.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Freeman,” Jack snapped, “you’re with us.”

Jack raced into the forest followed by Kawalsky and Freeman. His heart pounded, his lungs felt like they were bursting, not from exertion but from fear of what he might find.

 I’m coming, Charlie.

Jack could hear the screaming now and headed straight for the sound. As he burst into a clearing, he saw Brown and the other two Marines holding a blood-covered, wildly struggling, screaming figure on the ground.

It was Peterson. No Charlie in sight. The last shreds of Jack’s control vanished.

“Get off him!” he yelled.

The Marines immediately fell back and Jack dropped beside Peterson and grabbed him by his bloody, filthy shirt.

“Where is he!” he bellowed, shaking the man with every word. “Where’s Charlie!”

Peterson was screaming incoherently, and now his bloody, battered hands began flailing at him.”
“Jack, no!”

Strong hands grabbed him and tried to pull him away but Jack resisted. Then Kawalsky was on his knees beside him, grabbing for his hands.

“The guy’s totally lost it, Jack!” Kawalsky tried inserting some logic into the chaotic scene. “He can’t tell us anything right now. Stop it! This won’t help us find Charlie!”

Kawalsky had, knowingly or unknowingly, picked the only words that could have pulled Jack from the brink. They had to find Charlie and this wasn’t helping.

He loosened his grip and Peterson fell back to the ground, still crying and moaning. In the midst of all the garbled words, Jack heard the name ‘Cory’ and knew the man was calling for his dead son.

Tears filled Jack’s throat as he gazed at the pathetic figure, a father destroyed by grief. He regretted his brief assault on the man. Peterson couldn’t help them, he couldn’t help anyone, including himself. He was lost in his own grief and Jack spared a thought to wonder if the man would ever find the road back to sanity.

Pity and an unwanted sense of a connection outweighed the anger. If he and Peterson’s positions had been reversed, would Jack be in any better shape?

He stood up, Kawalsky with him. Freeman was already kneeling beside Peterson, his pack open to reveal the medical supplies inside. Brown and the others were holding the distraught man still so the medic could take a closer look.

“How is he?” Jack asked, the rage all but gone.

“As you can see, sir, his hands are a bloody mess. It looks like he’s broken most of the bones in them.”

“Any chance of getting anything sensible out of him?”

Freeman spared his superior a brief glance. “No, sir, not when he’s like this. And probably not any time soon.”

Jack swallowed a curse and looked around the clearing before meeting Kawalsky’s eyes. He had regained control and could think logically again, like the Colonel.

“This is a straight shot from the cabin.”

Kawalsky looked back in that direction. “So Charlie escaped and ran straight ahead into the forest.”

“Yeah.” Jack's mind was working feverishly. “But after he calmed down he would’ve started thinking. Odds are, he’s not still going straight.”

“You trained him, Colonel.” Kawalsky smiled. "What would he do next?”

Yeah, that’s what Jack needed to do, put himself in Charlie’s shoes and figure out what, out of all the things he’d learned from his old man over the years, his boy would do next.

Chapter 9

Run!

Hurts.

Run!

Can’t breathe.

Run!

Legs weigh a thousand pounds each.

Run!

Charlie tried to take another step, stumbled, and fell face down in the dirt.

Gasping for air, lungs burning, body throbbing, he frantically tried to lift himself off the ground but his arms wouldn’t work. He lay still, his body shuddering with each breath, his heart pounding so violently it felt as if it was about to explode. He was too exhausted to move or to think.

Time passed. Gradually, the pain of breathing subsided, his heart rate slowed to a more normal rhythm, and the shuddering began to ease. Charlie tried to blink the stinging sweat out of his eyes only to realize they were tears and he rubbed them away.

His strength was returning. He needed to get up. He needed to run again.

Panic can kill you.

His breath caught in his throat as Dad’s voice came to him, clear and strong.

Always remember, panic can kill you faster than anything else.

Charlie jerked his head up and looked around. Fresh tears stung his eyes and the brief flicker of hope faded. Dad wasn’t here. The voice was his imagination.

No, not imagined. Remembered.

He forced himself up to a sitting position. Every part of his body ached but he pushed the pain aside and concentrated on the memories.

When he was six years old Dad had taken him on his first guys-only camping trip. It was hard to remember the details but easy to remember his excitement at spending time alone with his very busy father. Camping in the mountains became a tradition they both enjoyed. Over the years, Dad had schooled him in what to do if he was ever lost or cold or hungry or thirsty. At night by the fire Dad would tell stories of surviving on courage and wits. Charlie didn't know if all the stories were true, he doubted it, but they were entertaining, and most of them taught a valuable lesson.

Panic can kill you. That was the number one rule to remember on Dad's list of recommended survival tips.

Charlie had fled the cabin in a blind panic. It was time to stop panicking and start thinking.

He took a deep breath, then another. Thinking about Dad helped. He didn’t feel so scared and alone. Dad would expect him to remember all the stuff he’d been taught. He'd be twelve years old next month, practically a grown-up. It was time to start acting like one.

“Okay,” Charlie said aloud. “What have I got? What do I need?”

At first thought, he didn’t have anything but the clothes on his back. Except that wasn’t exactly true. He had knowledge. He had all the stuff Dad had taught him over the years during all those camping trips.

“Okay,” Charlie said again, feeling a glimmer of confidence.

His arms still trembled but despite the pain in his wrist, they were strong enough to help him stand up. The first thing he needed to do was figure out where he was and what direction he should take.

He had run out of the cabin and straight into the shelter of the forest. The memory of Mr. Peterson screaming "Cory, Cory" behind him made him shiver. He forced the thought away. That wasn’t the kind of memory he should spend time on.

Thinking of his frantic run made his cheeks burn. He hadn’t thought about where he was running, he just ran and ran, as fast and as hard as he could, for as long as he could.

“Don’t.” He stopped himself. He shouldn’t waste time on vain regrets. He could hear his father's voice.

If you can’t go back and fix something, learn from it and move on. You need to stop and think. Remember, S-T-O-P.

Dad’s voice was clear and warm and strong in his memory. So confident. Charlie blinked back more tears and leaned on the thoughts of his dad. Dad would expect him to remember. And he did remember. Now it was time to put what he'd learned into action. If he thought about this ordeal as an adventure, maybe it wouldn't be so scary.

He gave a last gulp and swiped at his eyes, then turned in a slow circle to study his surroundings.

“S-T-O-P,” he said out loud. “Stop. Think. Observe. Plan. Then Act.”

He’d stopped, all right. Think. Okay, he could do that. Charlie looked at his watch and was amazed to see it was only a little after eleven o'clock in the morning. He gazed skyward to see the sun half-way to its zenith. Hmm, the sun rises in the east, which meant east was that way, to his right. It wasn’t as exact as a compass but it would have to do. Now he could figure out north, south and west, except he didn’t know what he was north, south or west from. He had woken up at the cabin so he had no idea which direction led to civilization. Colorado was filled with mountains, no, that wasn’t true. The mountains pretty much covered the western half of Colorado but not the eastern half... Charlie’s heart beat faster. Eastward was Colorado Springs . Eastward was home.

Dad always said if he was ever lost, he should stay put, that way he'd be easier to find. Except that plan wouldn’t work. No one knew where he was and the person most likely to find him was Mr. Peterson. Thinking about the man sent a rush of fear through him. He couldn’t forget about his teacher but he could try to focus on other things.

It wasn't possible to stay put in this situation. He just needed to be careful not to wander aimlessly like a lot of people did when they were lost.

He couldn’t retrace his steps. That was another one of Dad’s tips. If lost, go back the way you came. That wouldn’t work, either. Retracing his steps would lead him back to Mr. Peterson. Not a good idea. He couldn’t stay put and he couldn’t retrace his steps. He was running out of options.

Charlie looked up at the sky and swallowed. He'd only been out here a few hours and he was already thirsty from all the running. There was nothing he could do about it now but the thought reminded him of something else. If he could find a river, a source of fresh water, not only could he drink from it but he could follow it, and eventually it would lead him to people, and home.

Right now there was nothing but trees in every direction. He couldn’t go back, he couldn’t stay put, and if he continued going straight ahead, he’d be heading higher into the mountains. He didn’t want to go higher, he wanted to go lower. People and civilization were more likely to be lower. Another pressing thought made going down the best choice... if he kept going straight it would be easier for Mr. Peterson to find him.

Charlie noticed that the trees in the distance were lower than the trees surrounding him. That way was downhill. Checking the sun again he confirmed their direction.

“Good,” he said out loud. “East it is.”

He had stopped, thought, observed and planned. Now it was time to act.

Checking his position with the sun’s position in the sky once more, Charlie began walking. Now that the first wave of fear was under control, he realized his left wrist was throbbing. The shallow cut across his stomach hurt, too. That must have happened when he climbed out of the window. He should clean it but he didn't have any supplies. No band aids, no water, no food, no compass –

“Don’t,” he admonished himself. He did have something. He had the knowledge Dad had given him over the years and that would be enough.

Besides, he wasn’t on his own. Just because he had screwed up a couple of weeks ago and scared his parents half to death by playing around with Dad's gun, it didn't mean they weren't trying to find him.

Charlie still wasn't sure why he had needed to touch the gun that day in his dad’s home office, but he did, and he'd nearly killed himself in the process. In spite of his parents’ anger and disappointment, he knew with all his heart they’d be out looking for him. Charlie imagined Dad leading a squad of determined Special Ops soldiers, combing the mountains at this very minute, searching for him. It was a reassuring thought that made walking easier.

A couple of hours later, while fantasizing about being rescued and worrying about Mr. Peterson, Charlie tripped in a hole and fell to his hands and knees.

“Oof!”

Irritated with himself, he climbed back to his feet and rubbed his sore knees. Too much daydreaming and not enough watching where he was walking. Four other times he’d managed to catch himself but not this time. He was glad Dad hadn’t seen that.

As tempting as it was just to stay put and rest for a few minutes, the thought of Mr. Peterson sneaking up from behind was always on his mind. Before Charlie could decide what to do, something caught his attention. The sunlight was glinting off a wrapper, it looked like it was from a granola bar. The sight of the wrapper made his stomach growl in hunger. Maybe part of the granola bar was still inside? It was worth checking it out.

Unfortunately, the wrapper was empty. To his surprise, a needle lay on the ground just beyond the wrapper. It was a small needle like the ones his mom kept in the compact sewing kit she packed whenever she came camping with them.

Mom. The thought of her reminded him of something else, something that made his cheeks burn with shame. Every once in a while, when Mom came camping with them, Charlie secretly wished she had stayed home so he could spend time alone with Dad. Just the two of them. Moms were different. They worried about stuff that guys didn't even think about, and Dad let him do things by himself that Mom questioned. And Dad usually deferred to Mom on those things.

Tears rolled down Charlie’s cheeks and he quickly brushed them aside. I'm sorry I thought that, Mom. I'm so sorry. What he wouldn't give to have his mom with him right now. When he got home, he'd never think it again.

He needed to think positive thoughts. Charlie sniffed and wiped his eyes with his shirt. Positive thoughts gave him hope.

It was still summer. Clearly, hikers had been through here in the not too distant past. Maybe he'd come across people who could help him. He picked up the wrapper and the needle and put them in his jeans pocket. The thought of people revived him and he decided not to chance resting. If he kept moving downhill, maybe he'd run into someone who wasn't Mr. Peterson.

Charlie kept an eye on the afternoon sky as well as the surrounding forest. Thanks to his biology class last quarter, he was able to identify the trees. Ponderosa pines, Douglas firs, blue and Englemann spruce trees meant that he was somewhere between seven and twelve thousand feet where the alpine tundra zone began. He was positive because he'd seen the same kind of trees during their recent camping trip. The storms up here could be fierce so it was a relief to see clear skies in every direction with only a few friendly, puffy white clouds to break up the blue.

He was quiet as he walked and so preoccupied with keeping an ear out for Mr. Peterson that at first he didn’t recognize what else he was hearing. Charlie stopped abruptly and the faint murmur of sound became identifiable – it was the soft noise of running water. He listened closely; he didn't want to get his hopes up but... Charlie laughed out loud in relief and delight. There was no mistaking that beautiful, gurgling sound.

This was it! This was exactly what he'd been watching and hoping for, the key that would lead him home. He ran toward the sound, pumping his fist in the air and shouting, "Yes!" before remembering Mr. Peterson might be out there listening. He stumbled as he ran but kept his balance as he raced between the trees and around the bushes until the landscape finally opened up and he saw the river.

It was maybe fifty yards wide and because it was summer the water wasn’t as swift as it would be in the early spring. Stopping on the bank, all he could think of was how dry his throat was.

Charlie wanted to bend down, cup his hands and greedily quench his thirst, but he resisted the urge. He had acted like an idiot running down to the water yelling out his excitement and he needed to be more careful. Closing his eyes, he took a deep calming breath and tried to remember the water rules. Two came to mind. Boil water before drinking it and never drink from still water. That was fine except he had no matches to start a fire and building one from scratch would take too long. The specter of Mr. Peterson hot on his heels was always in the forefront of his thoughts and he didn’t dare linger by the river for too long. Besides, drinking rushing water was better than drinking from a still pond.

It was worth the risk. Dropping to his knees, Charlie put his hands together and drank his fill. With his thirst satisfied and his hunger pains temporarily appeased, he stood up, refreshed, and took a good look around. Moving water wouldn’t work for what he had in mind. He needed to find still water.

After several minutes of exploring, he found a point where the river curved and there was an overflow pond in the crevice of some rocks. It wasn’t very big – maybe a foot wide and a few inches deep. More than enough.

Charlie carefully pulled the wrapper-covered needle from his pocket. Looking around the ground he saw twigs and leaves and broken branches. He chose the straightest twig and set it aside before unwrapping the needle and rubbing it vigorously against his jeans. Then he stuck it into the end of the twig and laid it gently in the water.

After a few seconds the twig began to move. It turned slowly in the still water, almost in a full circle, before stopping. Charlie sat back on his heels and grinned in satisfaction. It really worked. Not that he had doubted it would. Dad knew everything.

“Magnetic north,” he said aloud.

He stood up and turned to survey the terrain. That way was east. He had been a little off in his initial calculations but not bad, considering. The best news – the river was also winding in an easterly direction so he'd be able to stay close to a water source as he traveled.

East was home. He'd follow the river for as long as it continued east and with any luck, the river would lead him home.

Checking the position of his impromptu compass with the position of the sun, Charlie realized he needed to veer a little more to the left if he was going to head due east. He picked up the stick-needle and carefully slid it back into his pocket. As long as he was close to the river, he could periodically check his position to be sure he was heading in the right direction.

With high spirits and renewed confidence, Charlie continued hiking along the river. He was doing okay. He was hungry but that was no big deal. He hadn’t come across anything he was sure was edible but he still might. Even if he didn’t, he could handle being hungry. At least he was no longer thirsty. Dad said thirst was a mortal enemy of survival. Happily, that was one less enemy he needed to worry about, for now.

Several hours later, his pace was dragging. Charlie had no idea how many miles he'd covered but walking all day was taking its toll and now each step was an effort. He wasn't sure how good a tracker his teacher was but the man was determined. Maybe Mr. Peterson hadn’t noticed Charlie had turned east, but maybe he had noticed. It wouldn't be smart to stop and risk his confused teacher suddenly coming up behind him.

The thought made him shiver. He better keep moving. On the plus side, Charlie was definitely going downhill. The increasingly steep slope forced him to be careful of each step, leaning back against the gravity that pulled him forward. The muscles in his legs and hips and back were complaining loudly and he tried his best to ignore them. He also had to watch for hidden roots and rocks and other snares that might trip him up. He was already sore from several falls.

Charlie shivered again. It was getting cold. Blinking in surprise, he took a good look around. He’d been so focused on avoiding a misstep he hadn’t noticed the sun was going down. Dusk was sweeping over the mountains and he knew nightfall wouldn't be far behind.

Despite his fear of Mr. Peterson behind him, Charlie needed to decide what to do for the night. Dad always said that walking in the dark was dangerous. Probably even more dangerous because he was so tired. Maybe it would be best to stop while there was enough daylight to pick a safe spot.

He wasn't sure what to do. It was impossible to ignore the thought of Mr. Peterson possibly closing in on him. Charlie sighed and rubbed his eyes while trying to ignore a fresh stab of fear.

“Like he’s going to be able to track you in the dark?” Taking a page from his father's book, he sarcastically addressed his fear head-on. Sure, technology existed for that but Mr. Peterson wasn’t in Special Ops; he was a fifth-grade science teacher. He knew lots of science stuff, but he probably didn't know much about tracking people in the dark.

Charlie stumbled and almost fell, catching himself at the last minute.

“Okay,” he whispered to the approaching night. "That settles it." He needed to find a place to hole up and fast.

On high alert as he walked, Charlie scanned for the right place. He'd know it when he saw it. He wished Daniel was here with him. Not that he wished Daniel had been kidnapped and be in danger from Mr. Peterson, but it would seem more like an adventure if his brother was at his side.

He smiled when he remembered Daniel standing up to Tommy at school and then their wild run through Franklin Woods as they tried to evade Tommy’s gang. Charlie would never forget Daniel hanging off the cliff during their camping trip, and then a few days later rescuing him from Dad's gun.

Daniel was smart and so much tougher than Charlie had first imagined. They'd only been brothers for such a short time. When he got back home, he'd make sure he and Daniel had lots of adventures. And he'd try really hard not to be mad when Dad took Daniel to the mountain. Mom, Dad, and Daniel, he couldn’t wait to get home and make up for his past behavior.

Now that he'd made the decision to rest, Charlie's legs were protesting every step. He needed to think about what would be best. He reviewed everything he could remember from Dad's stories and from his favorite survivalist TV shows about seeking refuge. There were good places and bad places to find shelter; he needed to find a good one.

It took awhile and he was stumbling with every other step when he found it. A large tree had fallen to the ground, a long time ago from the looks of it. Keeping one hand on the trunk for balance, Charlie walked the length of it and found the perfect spot. The huge root ball had left behind a deep hole in the ground when the tree had fallen over. Enough of the ball hung over the hole to partially shield it from the weather.

Sighing with relief, Charlie stepped down into the hole and slumped against the side. It was getting chilly and he rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself. His stomach growled and he looked down at his middle.

“I keep telling you there’s nothing to eat. Wait till we get home. I'm sure Mom will bake some chicken and mashed potatoes or maybe we can order out for a pizza. ”

His stomach wasn’t impressed and neither was Charlie. It was best not to think about his hunger. There were other, more important things to worry about, like Mr. Peterson. And the weather.

Thanks to the clear sky, he was hopeful he wouldn’t have to worry about rain tonight. Since it was still summer, it probably wouldn't get too terribly cold overnight despite the high altitude. Chilly, definitely, but he could handle chilly. If worst came to worst, he could do some calisthenics to warm up.

The howl of a nearby coyote startled him. The coyote sounded close and Charlie wondered if he’d be better off out in the open. If a hungry wild animal decided he’d make a good dinner, he’d be a sitting duck here.

All kinds of animals made their home in the mountains of Colorado . He didn’t have to worry about bears in this area, and, really, an attack by a coyote was unlikely. Usually they had to be starving and with no other food source before they’d attack a human being. That's what Dad had told him. He'd have to trust it was true.

Apart from coyotes, the only other potential predator to worry about was a wildcat. Like the coyote, though, it was almost unheard of for a wildcat to attack a human.

Charlie was sure he'd be safe here. Pretty sure.

The root ball hole, though a refuge, wasn’t very comfortable. He tried stretching his legs, one at a time, and winced when the needle in his pocket poked him in the thigh. He reached in and folded the wrapper tighter around it. It had served its purpose; maybe he should throw it away. No, it would come in handy if he was still in the forest and needed to double check his position tomorrow.

Huddled in his uncomfortable shelter, Charlie reviewed the decisions he'd made today and hoped Dad would be proud. Aside from his initial panic, he couldn't think of a single thing he would have done differently.

His smile faded when he remembered his dad's anger at the gun incident, and his sense of accomplishment drained away. Charlie might not be able to think of anything he'd do differently today but he could think of a whole mess of things he'd do differently if he could change the past. This was the longest Dad had ever stayed mad at him. How long would his anger last? What if it lasted forever?

Charlie sniffed back a few traitorous tears and peered up through the roots. The light was gray. Night was closing in fast.

Shifting position, Charlie rolled onto his side. He still wasn't very comfortable. This might be a safe place but he doubted he'd get much sleep. It was impossible to turn off the questions and fears running through his mind.

How close was Mr. Peterson? Was he angry his pretend Cory had run away? Was he still confused? All questions that had no answers. It was difficult, but he needed to stop feeling sorry for Mr. Peterson. What happened those last hours in the cabin went beyond confusion. His teacher wanted to kill him. Would have killed him if he hadn't escaped. The fact that Mr. Peterson didn't see it that way didn't make it any less true.

As the last remnants of daylight faded so did Charlie’s sense of adventure. "Dad," he whispered. “I really hope you find me soon.”

Tears pressed against his eyelids and Charlie rubbed fiercely at them. He wasn’t going to cry. Even though Dad said there was nothing wrong with tears, he wasn’t about to cry for no good reason. He was uncomfortable and hungry and a little cold. Big deal. There was nothing on that list worth crying about. Dad must have gone through a heck of a lot worse when he was MIA for all those months.

Charlie didn’t know what his father actually did in Special Ops but he knew it was really important and really dangerous stuff. The proof was in the top drawer of the dresser in his parents' bedroom. Dad had a whole box full of medals. Charlie didn't know the details about how his dad had won most of them, but he had looked up all the medals on the Internet and most were awarded for bravery or valor. Not knowing any details of the missions didn’t make the medals any less special. For Charlie, it made them more special. Like his dad.

He smiled in the darkness, rubbing away the tears he wasn't going to cry. Dad was looking for him. Dad would find him and everything would be okay. That was a fact. Charlie knew it as well as he knew his own name.

It would better if Dad wasn’t still mad when he found him, but if he was, Charlie would apologize again, and he'd say it enough times that Dad would believe him. Then maybe, if he worked really hard and didn’t do any more stupid stuff ever, Dad would trust him and they could be friends again.

As hard as it was to believe, a month ago everything had been fine. Better than fine. He and Daniel were friends and brothers, Dad was pitching to him and hitting him grounders, getting him ready for the Fantasy Sports Camp... how had he ended up here, alone in the woods? More than anything, Charlie wanted to make things right and recapture the things he'd lost. He wanted them back so much that the thought made more tears slide down his cheeks.

He wiped them away and wrapped his arms around his middle to better keep out the increasing chill. It would be best to think about something else. Think about when Dad finds you. Think about how good it’ll feel when he hugs you. Charlie was too big for hugs but this was one time he wouldn’t care how hard or how long his dad hugged him.

Clinging to the image of his father’s grin and remembering the feel of his strong arms holding him tight, Charlie closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Chapter 10

After a fitful start, the dried leaves and twigs were finally burning. Jack watched the baby fire burn for a few minutes before judging it had reached the point where it would accept larger pieces of wood. He laid a couple of branches the size of his arm criss-cross over the blaze and sat back. When the flames licked eagerly over the fresh fuel he had the makings of a genuine campfire.

It hurt to watch the flames. The last time he’d sat in front of a campfire had been less than a month ago, when he had taken Charlie and Daniel up to the State Forest State Park in northern Colorado . He closed his eyes as memories of the trip swept over him, some scary, most terrific. It was painful to remember that the day after returning home Charlie had found his gun in his dad’s desk drawer, his unlocked desk drawer.

Enough. This wasn't helping. Jack ran his hand through his hair before stretching stiff muscles. It was difficult to keep his thoughts and fears in check.

Since early afternoon Jack had been leading a thirty-man S & R team through the mountains looking for Charlie. The search had been by the book. He and Kawalsky had studied maps of the area, broken it down into sections and assigned each soldier his or her sector. They all carried packs containing everything they needed including radios to keep in contact. They were all tough, experienced soldiers.

Despite those factors and hours of methodical searching, they'd come up empty. With night fast approaching, Jack had made the difficult decision to order the team to settle in and wait for dawn to continue the search.

The members of the search team could have gathered together for the evening but Jack was pleased none of them had chosen to do so. They made camp where they were and with the increasing darkness, he could spot a few of the campfires through his binoculars.

It would be great if Charlie could spot one of the fires, too, but Jack doubted that would happen. His son had a head start of several hours on them. The team was further handicapped because they couldn’t be sure which direction Charlie had gone so they went slow and looked everywhere, hoping the boy left evidence of his passage among the trees or in the dirt. Something. Somewhere.

So far, they’d found nothing. Nada. Zero. Zilch.

Jack drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. For most of the day he had tried to stay focused on the logistics and technical aspects of the search but it hadn’t been easy. Thoughts of his son, alone in the vast wilderness, scared, maybe  injured, kept intruding.

The emotions weren't helping. He needed to stay sharp, just like any other mission.

What a bunch of crap. His act wasn't fooling anyone, least of all himself. It was no use pretending, this wasn’t like any other mission. Charlie was missing. His son was out there somewhere. Cold, scared and alone.

Jack chose to believe that finding no sign of Charlie was further proof his son was okay and using his wits to avoid detection. That was the most positive assessment of the circumstances and Jack decided to go with it. For all the boy knew, Peterson was still after him and he was doing his best to avoid attracting his kidnapper’s attention.

With that in mind, Jack had no doubt his son was using all the woods lore he'd been taught over the years. Jack had trained Charlie, Charlie emulated him, so what was the boy doing now?

As best they could figure, Charlie had escaped from the cabin this morning. Jack was certain after the initial panic subsided, Charlie would use the knowledge they'd discussed on previous camping trips. He could use the sun as a guide to roughly figure out his location. Did Charlie know he was in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, west of Colorado Springs ? If Charlie was paying attention to the terrain, he'd figure out that east was the easiest route. That was a basic lesson Jack had taught and reinforced over the years. To get to civilization, go downhill. Downhill led east.

According to the maps, five miles east of Jack’s current position was a small river that flowed down out of the mountain toward Colorado Springs . If Charlie had found it – and god, Jack hoped he had – he would follow it, understanding that following a river downstream would eventually lead to people.

If the boy stayed in control and didn’t let his fears spook him, Jack was confident he could accurately predict the direction his son had taken. Instead of heading for the river when the sun came up he decided to cut across the terrain diagonally and save himself a lot of miles. If Charlie was doing what he’d been taught, Jack would run smack into him.

For the first time since the ordeal began, Jack dared to believe things would turn out okay.

As the darkness settled in, the temperature dropped quickly. Jack was tempted not to wrap up because he knew Charlie had nothing but what he’d been wearing when he escaped. It felt wrong to be comfortable when his son wasn’t. He knew it was irrational and reluctantly pulled out a survival blanket to keep warm. Getting chilled wouldn’t help Charlie but it would ensure a bad night’s sleep. Jack couldn’t afford that; he needed his wits to stay sharp, the better to figure out what needed to be done.

Jack sighed and pulled the blanket a little tighter. He struggled to stay upbeat and not let the impending quiet allow his tightly controlled imagination to run wild. And not just for Charlie's sake. Jack O'Neill was a man of action and when night fell, all action came to an abrupt halt, leaving him to deal with the most difficult task of the past twenty-four hours. Possibly the most difficult task of his life. There was no more avoiding it. He needed to call Sara.

After so many years of marriage it was easy to envision her sitting by the phone, wearing her comfortable faded jeans and one of his old tee shirts, nervously twisting her wedding band and drinking water like it was going out of style. She'd be curled up in the brown rocker, the phone within arm's reach, waiting for him to call, trusting he'd have good news. Except he didn't have good news. He didn't have any news at all. At least he didn’t have bad news. What was the old saying? No news is good news. If only that applied in this case.

Damn it! He needed to get a grip and stop procrastinating. He had to call his wife and tell her their son was still lost. It crossed his mind to lie about the cell phone reception but that wouldn't be fair. If he did that, she'd spend the night in the rocker staring at the phone and imagining the worst. Sara definitely had the hardest job, sitting at home, waiting.

Jack gathered all his strength and optimism, bit the bullet and pulled out his cell phone even though he would have preferred poking his eye with a sharp stick.

She answered on the first ring.

The second he spoke she'd know the truth and he didn't want to prolong her agony. "It's me, honey. We don't have him yet but we're getting close." He said it quickly, all in one breath hoping she'd accept it as fact.

"You don’t have him," she repeated. He could almost see her twisting the ring.

Yet. She forgot the yet. "Yet. But we will. Probably tomorrow. I think I know what direction he went and I'll be there tomorrow. Searching in the dark is a waste of time."

"Charlie's alone in the dark." She sounded scared, like a child, and that scared him almost as much as Charlie wandering the forest.

Shit, he shouldn't have said it like that. He shouldn't have said the word, dark. He should have worded it differently. He'd have to be more careful.

"Jack." Her voice sounded distant even though the reception was crystal clear. "This is the first night since Charlie was born that we don't know where he is.” With the admission came the tears.

Jack thought before he spoke. It took all of his military training to summon the confidence needed to put into his next words.

"He's alive, we know that for sure. Peterson's in custody and we have highly trained teams looking for him. And Charlie knows what to do. He's fine, honey. I know he is. I wouldn't tell you that if I didn't believe it was true.” He had to stay strong, for Sara, for his team, for himself, and most of all for Charlie.

"He's always talking about what to do if you're ever lost. He watches all those survival shows..." she was hesitant, but he almost had her convinced. He could tell.

"Yes, he does. He'll hole up somewhere for the night and then head downstream toward civilization in the morning. I'm sure I'll be bringing him home tomorrow."

Maybe he shouldn't get her hopes up but Jack couldn't help it. She needed to believe it. They needed to believe it. What other choice did they have but to believe? Better to dwell on the positive than on the blood on the window sill or the wild animals roaming the forest.

"He'll be fine," Jack finished with all the assurance he could scrape together.

"He'll be fine?" Sara repeated, her voice small but a little more hopeful and a little less desperate.

“Yes.” Jack closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer that his best-case scenario would play out. He may be able to calm Sara tonight but if another night passed without Charlie... he'd deal with that if it happened. Right now he had to rest and plan and think like his son. He needed to be inside Charlie's head.

"He'll be fine," Sara repeated. The zombie-like tone scared him but it was better than the frightened child who had initially answered.

"Yes," Jack repeated, "he will be."

That Sara didn't lash out and accuse him of patronizing her told him all he needed to know about her state of mind. She was scared enough to let him appease her with hopeful promises. He'd just have to make sure he kept them.

"Try to get some sleep tonight," he suggested. "We'll be home soon."

Surprisingly, she agreed. "I love you, Jack," she added, and the words made him tear up. Sara needed him and he wished he could be there for her but she needed him to be searching for Charlie even more.

"I love you, too." He did. More than anything.

"Get some sleep, Jack. You need your rest. I'm going to bake a chocolate cake tonight and then I'm going to go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

She was sounding better, thank god. He must have been convincing. Chocolate cake was Charlie's favorite. They whispered their goodbyes and it was done. All that was left was for Jack to live up to his 'pie in sky' promises.

"Honey, is Captain Carter there? I need to talk to her."

"All right." She sounded almost cheerful.

"What do you need, sir?" It was a relief when Carter's normal-sounding voice came over the line.

"I need you to stay at the house. Stay with my wife." He had already asked her and she was there but he needed to make sure. He didn't want Sara alone, surrounded by young military guys, if the unthinkable happened. The unthinkable wasn’t going to happen, but Carter was a woman and he trusted her.

"I'll be here, sir."

Jack mumbled his thanks and hung up, grateful he hadn’t given in to weakness and refused to call. In comforting her, he felt better, too.

A yawn surprised him and he stretched, long and hard. Sara was right, he needed sleep. It had been three, no four, nights since Charlie had vanished. How much had he slept since then? Bad question.

“Colonel O’Neill?”

Jack grabbed his radio. “What is it, Kawalsky?”

There was a few seconds of silence before the Major responded. “I’m looking forward to hearing the whole story from Charlie. It's going to be a whopper. That is one resourceful kid.”

Some of the pressure in Jack’s throat eased at the smile in the man’s voice. “Yeah, me, too.”

Kawalsky had spoken over an open channel. All of the searchers must have heard him. Jack smiled. That Major was one sneaky bastard. Everyone was probably grinning now.

His shaky confidence strengthened. Charlie was smart, he knew what to do in this kind of situation and because of that Jack had a good idea how to track him. Pride swelled at the thought. He couldn’t wait to hug his kid again and tell him he was loved, and take him home to his mother.

As Charlie cautiously climbed down a particularly treacherous part of the slope, his stomach was feeling a lot better. Shortly after waking up a couple hours ago, he’d run across some berry bushes. Animals had obviously been enjoying the berries but there were still quite a few left and Charlie had devoured all he could find before he continued walking.

The river was still within earshot though screened by the trees. Charlie enjoyed the sound of the rushing water and was reassured that it was close by.

When the slope leveled out he picked up his pace. Mr. Peterson must have stopped for the night, too, he must have. Charlie had started walking again as soon as the sun was high enough in the sky to light his path. His teacher should still be a ways back.

On the heels of that thought came a loud crashing noise behind him. Charlie whirled, his heart in his throat. His searching gaze didn’t see anything as he peered across the terrain above him.

There!

It didn’t come from behind but from the southwest. Something large was moving swiftly through the forest, still hidden by the trees and underbrush but he could see the tops of smaller trees swaying as something shoved past them.

Mr. Peterson had found him!

Charlie wheeled around and raced forward. He reached an open meadow some forty feet wide and he was frantic to cross it and get back into the protective cover of the forest before Mr. Peterson could see him.

“Charlie!”

God! Mr. Peterson was right behind him!

Driven by terror mixed with panic, Charlie flew across the meadow, his heart threatening to burst through his chest.

Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Just run!

“Charlie!”

He was getting closer!

Charlie drove himself faster, running harder than he’d ever run.

Almost there, almost there. The sanctuary of the forest beckoned a few yards away, promising shelter, escape.

“Charlie, stop! It’s Dad!”

Charlie flew across the last few yards and was swallowed up by the underbrush and trees. Don’t stop, keep running, he needed to put some distance between himself and Mr. Peterson. He needed to get away, far away.

“Charlie! It’s Dad. Stop!”

Charlie broke stride, stumbled and almost fell. Dad? Mr. Peterson thought he was –

“Charlie!”

Charlie, not Cory. The desperation in the voice shattered Charlie’s fear with its familiarity. That wasn’t Mr. Peterson's voice! That was –

“Dad!”

He spun around and ran back the way he came, tripping and stumbling, heedless of his footing. Only one thing in the world mattered now.

Charlie broke out of the trees again and saw the tall, familiar figure running toward him.

“Dad!” he screamed, mindless of the tears streaming down his face.

“Charlie!”

Jack’s universe narrowed down to this one moment in time, to the small figure running toward him. His heart pounding, Jack couldn’t run fast enough.

“Charlie!” he called again for no reason except it was his son’s name and there in front of him was his son.

“Daddy!” Charlie ran straight toward him until he tripped and fell. He tried to get up but his arms didn’t seem able to support him.

Jack covered the distance between them in a few long strides and fell to the ground to gather his son into his arms.

“Charlie!” He wept, holding the boy tightly as tears streamed down his face. “Oh, Charlie, Charlie. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

“Dad,” Charlie sobbed. “You came. I knew you’d come!”

They sat on the ground, holding on to each other. Jack had no idea how much time passed before the present began to intrude. He needed to radio the team but he couldn't bear to let go. His son's body was pressed against his chest and he could feel his boy's gallant heart beating beneath his own. The emotions were overwhelming and he wanted to revel in the joy of the moment for a little while longer.

Eventually, Charlie leaned back and loosened his grip.

“I’m sorry I ran, Dad.” The boy's face was still awash with tears. “I thought you were Mr. Peterson so I – ”

“It’s okay, son,” Jack soothed, “it’s okay.” He pulled out his radio. It was time.

“This is O’Neill.” He smiled at his son as he told his team the news they'd been hoping to hear. He barely finished confirming their location when Kawalsky’s voice came on.

“Hey, Big O. How ya doing?”

“Uncle Charlie!” Charlie burst out. “You’re here, too?”

“Hell – er, heck yes. The whole base wanted to come out to find you. We’ll see you in a few, buddy!  Colonel, I’ll notify the Mountain since I expect you’re going to be busy for awhile.”

Jack chuckled at that. If it were up to him he'd never let go of his son. "Bring Freeman up here with you," he ordered.

"Everything okay?" The Major sounded worried for the first time.

"Yeah, he seems fine." Jack squeezed harder. "I'll just feel better after he gets checked out."

"You got it, sir. We're on our way."

Jack signed off, still drinking in the sight of his son’s beaming face. Charlie sniffed and wiped his eyes, put on a brave face and started to pull away.

“Hey,” Jack protested. “I’ve been looking for you for four days. Be a sport and let your old man hold on to for you awhile, okay?”

“I was just...” the boy’s lower lip quivered and he scrubbed at his eyes. "I don't want to be crying like a baby when they get here."

“Remember what I told you about crying?” Jack ran a gentle hand through his son’s tousled hair.

“I know and it's fine at home but they’re coming, Dad. Everyone will see.” Charlie rubbed his face harder.

Oh for crying out loud. Jack didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his son’s pride. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“Don’t worry about it, kiddo. Remember what Daniel says about good tears?” He waited for the boy’s nod and continued. “I can pretty much guarantee some of those tough old soldiers are crying a few good tears right now.”

“Even Uncle Charlie?”

“Especially him,” Jack snorted.

“Oh.” Charlie thought about that for a minute and leaned against his father again. “Then I guess it's okay.”

Jack’s eyes filled as he felt the small arms wrap around him and he tightened his own grip. He couldn’t wait to see Sara’s expression when she laid eyes on their son.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. Sara.

“What?”

Without releasing his hold on Charlie, Jack fumbled in his fatigue jacket pocket, pulled out his cell phone and punched in the speed dial for home.

“Honey?” he said as soon as someone picked up the receiver.

"Honey?" the confused voice on the other end questioned. "Oh, sorry, sir. It's me, Captain Carter."

"Carter, put Sara on." He didn't waste any time. Sara needed to share his relief.

 "Jack?" Her voice was ragged and scared.

"I’ve got him.” He beamed down at his son’s tear-covered but now smiling face.

The silence lasted forever. Either the phone went dead or Sara hadn't heard him.

"Did you hear me, Sara? I have Charlie. I'm holding him right now.” Jack gave the boy a little squeeze as he spoke. “And he's fine. Really fine."

More silence. Jack was starting to get worried when he heard her whisper, “He’s fine.”

Carter must have overheard the soft comment because Jack heard her voice in the background loudly echoing their thoughts. "Thank God!"

When Sara spoke again her voice was filled with laughter edged with tears. "I was just hugging Sam."

Sam? Jack hadn't been sure how Sara would like having Carter in the house but obviously the two of them had bonded. That could be scary down the road.

“Dad?” Charlie reached for the phone.

"Hold on. Someone here wants to talk to you.” He handed over the phone. “Say hi to your mother."

"Hi, Mom!”

With Charlie so close, Jack could hear Sara’s voice.

"Charlie! You're okay?"

"I'm fine, Mom. I can't wait to get home." Tears filled Charlie’s eyes again.

"I'll be right here waiting for you,” she promised. “You're really okay?"

Jack motioned for the phone. He wanted to reassure Sara but this wasn’t the time or place to go into details.

Charlie nodded at his father. "Yep. Hey, Mom, could you tell Daniel he won’t have to worry about me coming into his room anymore? I can't wait to sleep in my own bed."

"I'll tell him, honey." Sara was laughing and crying at the same time.

"Here's Dad again."

When he took the cell phone back, Jack heard Sara crying harder. Reality was setting in. He knew exactly how she felt.

"He's fine, Sara.” She needed reassurance. She wasn't lucky enough to be holding Charlie in her arms. “I'd tell you if he wasn't, you know that. The Air Force is sending out a chopper to pick us up. We'll be home soon. Hang in there, honey."

“Can Daniel say hi? He’s right here.”

Jack smiled and handed the cell phone to Charlie. “Someone else wants to say hi. Keep it short, okay?”

The boy snatched the phone out of his father's hand. “Hi, Daniel!” He had no doubt who was on the other end.

Jack allowed them a few minutes of conversation before ending the brothers’ reunion and taking back the phone. Kawalsky and Freeman would be here any minute.

“Sara, you there?”

“Hurry home,” she implored.

“We will. I promise.”

Within minutes of hanging up Kawalsky and Freemen broke through the trees and joined them.

"There you are!" Kawalsky bellowed. "You gave us Special Ops guys a run for our money, Charlie."

"I was hiding from Mr. Peterson."

Kawalsky let out relieved laughter at that.

Jack hated to interrupt but first things first. "Charlie, this is Lieutenant Freeman. He's a medic. He’ll check you out."

When Jack nodded to Freeman, Charlie moved closer and squeezed Jack's hand.

"You can sit right there with your dad." Freeman must have noticed the boy's reluctance to leave his side. "I'm sure you're fine," the medic reassured as he sat down on the ground in front of Charlie.

Charlie nodded and leaned briefly into Jack. Freeman took out his blood pressure cuff, wrapped it around Charlie's arm and pumped it up.

"Perfect," he declared after checking the readings. "I bet your dad's blood pressure is much higher than yours is right now," he winked.

"I'm sure you're right there," Jack mumbled.

"Does your wrist hurt, Charlie? It seems like you're holding it a little funny.”

"A little. I banged it when I fell in the cabin but I don't think it's broken."

Damn. Jack couldn't believe he hadn't noticed Charlie's swollen wrist. In the excitement of finding his kid he must have missed a few of the details. No sense beating himself up over it. That's why Freeman was there.

"Hold out your arm and let me take a look."

Charlie did as he was told and the Lieutenant ran his hand along the bone. "Can you make a fist? Great. Now can you squeeze my hand?"

If Charlie's grip was anywhere near as powerful as the hand gripping Jack's there'd be no problem.

"Wow! That's some grip. Did it hurt to do that?"

"Just a little bit," Charlie conceded.

"It's nothing to worry about, just a sprain. Did you notice any other injuries when you fell?" The medic was thorough but casual and his demeanor put Charlie at ease.

"I scratched my stomach but it's no big deal."

"I'm here, so I might as well take a look."

Jack winced at the ugly but thankfully superficial red line.

"You're right, it's no big deal. I'll just make sure it’s clean, put some Neosporin on it and you'll be all set." Freeman searched through his med kit.

"That's some kid you have there, Colonel." He winked at Charlie again even though he was addressing Jack. "He's fine, sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

"No problem, sir. I have a son, too, and I hope he'd be half as resourceful as Charlie if he was ever lost."

"Take him camping," Charlie piped up. "My dad taught me everything during our camping trips."

Jack chuckled at Charlie's ringing endorsement. It had been a while since his son had given him such open, lavish praise.

"I will," Freeman answered with a smile. "I can't wait to take him. He's only four years old now and his mom's not much for the great outdoors, so maybe in a couple more years."

"I started going alone with my dad when I was six."

"I'll keep that in mind." Freeman closed up the med kit. "I'm going to get back to the rest of the team, sir. We still have a lot of gear to pack up and move out."

Jack thanked him again and after a few minutes on the radio the medic disappeared into the trees.

Chapter 11

Whoever Kawalsky had contacted didn’t waste any time. Twenty minutes later Jack saw the helicopter approaching. By then Ferretti and a couple of the other searchers had joined Jack and Charlie. The remaining soldiers would be picked up at a rendezvous point some distance away.

Jack watched Ferretti joke with Charlie. His heart was still racing, as it had been from the moment he'd laid eyes on his missing son, and he guessed things wouldn’t calm down until they were home. As the helicopter descended to the ground some thirty feet away, Jack narrowed his eyes against the rush of wind and flying debris. His face ached from smiling so much and he laughed while swallowing more tears.

The ride back to the Mountain was mostly silent. After the first flush of excitement it was obvious Charlie was tired and Jack was content to sit with one arm around his son’s shoulders as the boy leaned against him. Charlie roused himself when the helicopter landed and was all set to be the first one out before Jack caught him.

“Let’s wait for the rotors to stop.” He pointed upward and yelled over the roar of the engine.

“Right,” Charlie screamed back. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” Jack used his words as an excuse to slip in another one-armed hug.

As they stepped out of the chopper onto the landing pad, Jack was astonished to see General Hammond standing beside a large dark sedan bearing the Air Force logo. Keeping one hand on his son’s shoulder, he guided the boy toward his C.O. Behind them, the sound of the helicopter died into silence and in the sudden quiet Jack felt briefly off-balance. The feeling disappeared when he stopped in front of his superior, a grin stretching wide across his face.

“The O’Neills, father and son, reporting, sir,” he proclaimed.

Hammond was wearing a grin as wide as Jack’s. Gazing down at the boy, he stuck out his hand.

“It's very, very good to see you again, Charlie.”

His dark eyes wide, Charlie straightened as if at attention. “Th-thank you, sir,” he stuttered as the General took his hand and shook it.

“It was very good of you to come, General.” Jack meant it, he was well aware of Hammond ’s crushing schedule in light of what was going on at the Mountain. For the man to make time to come up here to welcome back the son of one of his subordinates was another indication of his C.O.’s class and concern.

Hammond waved away the words. “Not at all, Colonel. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” His beaming smile gave strength to his words. “However, I’m sure you and your son would like to get home. So...” he gestured at the sedan.

There was so much emotion running through Jack that this simple act of kindness almost brought him to tears again.

“Thank you, sir.”

Moments later the car was headed down the Mountain with Jack and Charlie relaxing in the back seat. Charlie leaned against his father and Jack relished the feeling. All too soon, Charlie would be back to normal and sneaking in a hug would be next to impossible. Obviously his son needed the physical closeness right now and to be honest, Jack needed it, too. Two birds with one stone, he thought with a smile as he tightened his grip on the slim shoulders.

“Is it really all over, Dad?” Charlie asked out of the blue.

Jack cocked his head, to better to see his son’s face. Charlie was looking straight ahead and he was biting his lip.

“Yes,” he said around the lump in his throat. “It’s all over. We’re going home and your mom and Daniel are there waiting for us.”

Charlie nodded. "How did you find me?"

"I know you’re a smart kid. I figured if you'd been listening to your old man all these years you'd know what to do."

"I did, Dad." Charlie sat up a little straighter. "I remembered everything. I knew I should head downhill and when I found the river I knew what to do. I even found a needle and I made a compass..." He paused and reached into his jeans pocket. "It's gone, I must have lost it but I used it in still water exactly like you showed me and it worked! It worked great."

"You did everything perfect. I found you because you knew what to do. I'm so proud of you, Charlie." Jack’s voice became heavy with emotion. "I love you and you're an amazing kid. You know that?"

"Thanks, Dad. But..."

"But what?"

"I was really scared."

With the admission, Charlie relaxed in his arms and sobbed into his shirt. Jack was aware of the driver in the front seat but didn’t care. Screw it. He shed a few tears of his own while he rubbed his son's back. Two O'Neill men crying in public. Sara would be so proud.

“There’s nothing wrong with being scared, son,” Jack said softly. “All of us get scared sometimes and you had good reason to feel that way.”

 He stroked his fingers through his son's hair and murmured reassurances. When the boy settled against him, he thought Charlie had fallen asleep but that wasn't the case.

"Dad?"

"What?" Jack kept his voice down, wondering if Charlie was truly awake or just checking to be sure his dad was still there.

"What's going to happen to Mr. Peterson?"

That question was bound to come up sooner or later and Jack had already decided to tell Charlie the truth. He'd been hoping it would be later rather than sooner but maybe it was better to get it over and done with.

Jack continued stroking Charlie's hair. It was out of character for his son to be so docile or allow his father to be this tactile, but the boy was exhausted and Jack was taking full advantage of it.

He hesitated as he tried to choose the right words and Charlie jerked upright. "Did you kill him, Dad?" he asked wide eyed. "He wasn't bad or mean to me. He was just mixed up. He thought I was Cory. Dad..."

"No," Jack interrupted, shocked by the innocent condemnation. "No, Charlie, I didn't kill him."

He swallowed the sour taste of bile, devastated that his son needed to ask that question and that Charlie was so certain he knew the answer. How many kids would ask that of their fathers?

It was because of his job. Because of what he did.

Jack swallowed again. The old excuse wasn't as comforting as it used to be.

“He’s alive, Charlie, I swear. You’re right, Mr. Peterson is very mixed up. When we found him he didn’t know who we were or even who he was. I’m afraid he’s going to be in the hospital for a long time.”

Charlie calmed at the words and leaned back against the seat, allowing Jack to resume ruffling his hair.

"He was really sad. He tried so hard to believe I was Cory. If Cory wouldn't have died, maybe Mr. Peterson would have been okay. Do you think he would have been okay?"

"I don't know," Jack whispered honestly, amazed at his son's compassion. The boy had a lot of Sara in him.

"I would have waited for you to find me but then Mr. Peterson said we were going to be together forever. He kept saying that and I thought he might mean he was going to kill both of us. That’s when I got scared and figured out how to get away. Did I do the right thing, Dad?"

Jack's heart filled with pride. "Yes, you did exactly the right thing. There was nothing else you could have done. Mr. Peterson has mental problems that have nothing to do with you, Charlie. Do you understand?"

More than anything Jack didn't want Charlie second guessing his own actions. “It was a good thing you escaped when you did. If we hadn’t found him, he might have killed himself.”

Jack dared not consider Charlie’s words about what might have happened if the boy hadn’t had the good sense to run off. It sounded as if Peterson might actually have – he choked off the thought and again he was filled with unwanted compassion for the grief-stricken father. For Peterson, the bottom line had been stark and agonizing.

“He couldn’t handle the truth that his son was dead.”

Charlie nodded but had other things on his mind. "If I died, you wouldn't kill yourself, Dad." It wasn't a question it was a statement of fact.

Jack froze. What if Daniel hadn’t been there the day Charlie found his gun? Charlie would have died.

Thinking about the possibility made him feel sick. Would he have been able to handle it? It was his gun and the drawer had been left open, the promised lockbox all but forgotten. Even if Sara had forgiven him, which wasn't a foregone conclusion, would he have been able to forgive himself?  Doubtful. Highly doubtful. He certainly wouldn't have kidnapped someone else's child to play make-believe but that wasn't Charlie's question. Peterson's self-destructive delusion was easier for Jack to understand. Jack meant what he said about Peterson probably committing suicide if they hadn’t found him when they did. The man’s delusion had left him with no other means of escape.

"How do you know?" Jack asked. The parallels between himself and Peterson had been taunting him since he’d learned what happened to Cory Peterson and he had no easy answers. Maybe Charlie knew something he didn't.

"You'd have to take care of Mom and Daniel. And you have really important stuff to do at work. You'd miss me, but you'd have to keep going. Right, Dad?"

Jack fought back the surge of emotion. Such confidence. When he thought he could speak without any betraying tremors in his voice, he answered. "Right. But let's never find out, okay?"

"Okay."

Jack relaxed, thinking the boy would fall asleep again. To his surprise, he felt Charlie tensing up.

“Uh, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you...” Charlie gulped and the rest of his words spilled out. “Are you still mad at me?”

Oh, god. Jack hugged his son tighter.

“No. I’m not mad. And I need to apologize because the one I was really mad at was me.”

Charlie looked up at him, his eyes wide with confusion. “Huh? Why were you mad at yourself, Dad? I was the one who screwed up – ”

“No, listen to me,” Jack interrupted. “You made a mistake, that’s true, but it never would have happened if I hadn’t made a bigger mistake.” He glanced at the back of the driver’s head. This was not the time or place for Jack O’Neill’s true confessions. When they were home, and Charlie had recovered from his ordeal, Jack would explain and apologize.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said gently. "Let's just say that we both made mistakes."

“Okay.” Charlie fell silent and Jack heard him sigh. A few minutes later his son had fallen asleep.

Twenty minutes later, the sedan pulled into the O’Neill driveway. Before it came to a stop the front door flew open and Sara came racing out. Jack jumped out of the vehicle to catch her before she collided with it.

“Honey – ” he didn’t get any further.

“Charlie!” She slipped away from him and then she was inside the car.

“Mom!”

A groggy Charlie sat up and his mother wrapped her arms around him, hugging him as if she'd never let go. Jack watched, grinning, when movement on the periphery of his vision made him look up. Daniel was hovering half in and half out of the front door, indecision in every line of his body. The hell with that. Jack gestured expansively.

“Daniel!” he yelled. “Come on out here.”

A smile stretched across the small face and Daniel hurried down the walk. Only then did Jack see he was shoeless and he shook his head in amusement. When he reached the car, Jack hugged the boy against him so they could both contemplate the sight of Sara crying all over Charlie. Some of the tears might be Charlie’s but Jack didn’t doubt most of them were coming from his wife.

It was a while before Sara calmed down enough to climb out of the sedan, one hand clinging to her son’s. Finally, Jack was able to send the driver and car away.

The sight of Charlie’s flushed, tear-streaked face and overly bright eyes told him more than words. Their boy had about reached his limit. It was time for some peace and quiet.

Daniel stood in the circle of Jack’s arm, watching his foster brother. His smile had taken on a tentative quality that Jack had seen before. He thoroughly disapproved of that look. He hated that the boy still felt insecure in this family and squeezed the shoulder under his hand. Before he could say anything, Charlie broke free from his mother’s grasp and turned to see Daniel standing there.

“Hey, Daniel!” At the sight of his brother, a smile replaced Charlie's exhausted expression.

“Hey, Charlie.” Daniel flashed a smile back. “I’m really glad you’re home.”

“Thanks!” Amazingly, Charlie still had enough left to give a chortle. “I’m glad I’m home, too.”

“All right.” Jack put an arm around each boy. “Let’s take this party inside.”

With Sara on Charlie’s other side, her arm resting over Jack’s as it laid lightly across their son’s shoulders, the O’Neill family walked back toward the house.

As they neared the front door, Captain Carter came out.

“Welcome back, Charlie,” she said with a broad smile before looking at Jack. “With your permission, sir, I’ll be off.”

"Bye, Sam," Sara and Daniel said in unison.

"Your computer, Carter?" It seemed odd to Jack she was leaving empty handed.

"I'm already packed, sir. I'll just get out of your way."

She brushed past and walked toward her car that was parked at the curb. Jack couldn't be sure but it looked like she had tears in her eyes at their little family reunion. She was probably embarrassed but there was no need to be, anyone with a beating heart would have shed a few tears.

"Thank you, Carter," he yelled after her.

The words seemed inadequate but it was all he had to offer. She'd been a lifesaver. She waved a hand out the car window before she drove away.

"Mom, do we have anything to eat? I'm starving." Charlie's words broke into his thoughts.

"As a matter of fact we do," Sara laughed as the family went inside.

Chapter 12 

When Jack pulled up to the first security checkpoint at the Mountain he felt as if he’d been gone for years, which was stupid; it had only been a few days. A couple of crazy, insane days that felt more like a year. The last time he’d been here they'd been gearing up for the search and rescue mission to find Charlie. The thought still gave him chills. He’d been so afraid, hell, he’d been frantic, half out of his mind that he'd get there too late. Hiding those feelings from his wife and his men had been exhausting. It still bothered him that if not for his son's resourcefulness, his fears might have been realized and he very well might have been too late.

Let it go, he berated himself as he pulled into his parking spot. It was over. Except, it wasn’t entirely over. Last night, for the first time in years, Jack and Sara had been shaken out of a sound sleep by Charlie having a nightmare, a humdinger of a nightmare, if the screams were any indication. Charlie had quickly calmed down and fallen back to sleep without any problem. Still, he and Sara had spent the rest of the night taking turns checking on him every hour or so, an unnecessary precaution as it turned out.

It was to be expected, Sara had reassured him during their nighttime vigil. After what Charlie had been through, nightmares were a foregone conclusion. Time should take care of them. If it didn’t, they could always call in professional help.

Jack knew the mantra as well as his wife and he was sure she was right. Charlie had talked openly to his father about his ordeal without any prompting. Neither Jack nor Sara, to whom Jack had related Charlie’s story, thought he was holding anything back.

 For the most part, it sounded as if Charlie had been far less stressed than he and Sara while Peterson held him at the cabin. Charlie assured them, more than once, that it wasn’t until the very end that he became concerned and then downright scared. Up until then Mr. Peterson had been nice.

Jack gritted his teeth and pushed down a surge of anger. You’re letting it go, he reminded himself. It’s over. They’d deal with Charlie’s nightmares but the ordeal was over.

As he pulled into the lot he deliberately turned his attention to the Mountain that loomed ahead. Today was an exciting day. If not for the events of the last week he'd rate this as the most exciting thing to happen in decades, possibly ever. The Stargate was the perfect distraction to take his mind off the stress of the last week.

Jack parked and headed around the truck. He was just in time to grab Daniel’s arm as the boy stumbled.

“Watch your step!” he warned.

He'd been so deep in thought he'd almost forgotten Daniel was with him. The kid must have had deep thoughts of his own because he hadn't said a word.

“I guess I wasn’t paying attention,” Daniel admitted with a sheepish grin.

Jack laughed, released him and ruffled his hair. “Can’t imagine what might be distracting you.”

Daniel was walking fast and Jack increased his pace to keep up. “I can’t believe today’s the day.” The blue eyes were shining with excitement. “First we got Charlie back and now we’re going to open the Stargate!”

“We’re going to try,” Jack reminded him.

When Hammond had called last night to discuss today's plan, it was clear that as second in command of the base, Jack was expected to be there. Initially, he'd felt a twinge of regret. Charlie had only been home for a couple of days. At the same time he recognized that the General had been a patient man. The entire multi-billion-dollar project had been put on hold the last week while Jack focused on finding his son. He couldn’t imagine the pressure Hammond must have been under and yet he’d stuck to his guns, even giving Jack the additional days at home after the rescue.

It was still difficult to believe Charlie was safe at home but Jack was getting there. That, combined with the realization of what they were going to attempt today, made leaving the house easier than he would have thought possible. Sara sure as hell hadn’t been happy about it but she knew what he did for a living, the broad picture anyway. As she'd done so many times in their marriage, this morning she smiled and kissed them both goodbye and allowed his career to come first. Jack had been relieved that Charlie had slept through their departure.

When they entered the Mountain, he glanced down to see Daniel bouncing as he walked. The excitement radiating from the small figure was surprising considering how little sleep they'd all had the last week. Jack regretted telling Daniel Hammond’s plan. He practically had to drag the kid off the ceiling to get him to lie down last night. It was difficult enough for an adult to deal with clamping down the excitement much less an enthusiastic boy. Jack filed the information away for the next time something exciting was happening at the base.

There had never been a question about whether Daniel would be present at the Mountain for the attempt to open the Stargate. Providing all the planning and theorizing was correct and the big event actually happened, it would be because of the eleven-year-old genius. Daniel deserved to be there. Jack prayed everything went smoothly.

They reached the end of the corridor and Daniel automatically turned left, only to be stopped by Jack’s hand gripping his shoulder.

“Nope, this way.”

“But the lab is down there.” Daniel looked up in bewilderment.

“I know it’s down there. But we go this way.”

A minute later, Jack stopped in front of a door with no identifying sign, and knocked lightly against the blank panel.

“Gotta fix that,” he said as he turned the knob and shoved the door open.

“Fix what?”

“Just go on in.”

Daniel obeyed despite his confusion. He took several steps inside while scanning the room. On his right, pushed up against the wall was an empty table. A few feet in front of that was a desk, somewhat smaller than Jack’s. The long left wall looked much more interesting because bookshelves had been built along its length. Although some of the shelves were still empty, at least a third of them were filled with books of all shapes and sizes.

Daniel stared at them with the same interest he always felt in the presence of unfamiliar books.

“Whose office is this?” He skimmed over the nearest titles. “They’ve got some really good books on ancient Egypt and hieroglyphics...” his voice trailed off as he moved closer to the shelves and zoomed in on one particular row. When he reached for the nearest book his hands trembled. This was an old book, the title almost rubbed away from years of handling, but he would have recognized it anywhere.

Reverently, Daniel lifted the book and cradled it in his arms. There was an inch-long scratch in the upper corner of the front cover and the sight made his eyes burn. Blinking back tears, Daniel turned back the cover to see on the inside blank page, the faded but still legible signature – Melburn Jackson.

As soon as he recognized the book he knew what he'd find, but the sight of his father’s familiar handwriting broke down his control and his knees gave way. Then strong arms were holding him and a familiar voice, not his father’s but still a much-loved voice, was speaking words of comfort and reassurance.

When the first hot rush of tears ended, Daniel realized he was sitting on the little couch beside Jack, who had an arm around his shoulders.

“Here you go.” Jack was holding out a tissue. Daniel wiped his face and blew his nose before leaning against his foster father, emotionally wrung out and confused.

“Jack, I... I don’t understand.”

“I know, kiddo. Remember a while back when we talked about adopting you?”

Daniel sniffed back residual tears and nodded.

“When you said you’d like that, Sara and I thought about what we could do to help you get used to the idea. We wondered if it would be possible to track down any of your folks’ stuff. Long story short, we found some in storage and arranged to have it shipped here.”

While Jack spoke, he monitored Daniel’s reactions so he'd be better able to report to Sara. They’d had an idea of what to expect when the boy recognized the books but both of them hoped the good would outweigh the bad.

It wasn’t the first time Jack's contacts had come in handy. He owed them all big-time after this one. It had been a shock to find out that after two years the New York City Museum still had possession of the Jacksons ’ belongings. He and Sara had discovered that when the Jacksons arrived from Egypt , they'd gone straight to the museum to measure out the space for their exhibit. The curator, an old family friend, allowed them to put their boxes of books and other personal items in temporary storage and the Jacksons had only taken a couple of suitcases of clothing to their hotel. After the tragedy, the boxes had been sent into permanent storage and forgotten.

Whether the storage had been deliberate or accidental, Jack was grateful for it. Apart from the books, there were a number of boxes he knew Daniel would want to go through. Jack and Sara hadn’t decided whether they were going to allow that now or encourage Daniel to wait.

For the moment, Jack was pleased. All things considered, Daniel had taken the surprise well.

“Why, Jack?”

“Why what, buddy?”

“Why – I mean, is this my office?”

“It sure is.”

“Why? I’m not a grown-up or anything.”

No, you’re the eleven-year-old genius who saved a billion-dollar project from going down the crapper. The thought was involuntary and Jack decided to go for a softer but no less true answer.

“Well, you needed a place to store all these books. We don’t have room at home. And besides, you’re our lead language guy in figuring out all this... stuff." He waved his hand for emphasis. "There are a lot of other things going on in that lab and I figured you could use a place of your own so you could concentrate without constant interruptions.”

Jack wasn’t going to mention an additional reason – this storage room cum office was closer to his own than the lab. The proximity made him feel better and the lab was still just a short walk away when Daniel wanted to talk to Lee or Rothman or one of the other scientists. More shuffling of rooms had finally given Carter a bigger office, too. Now that they were on the verge of opening the Stargate, she was going to need it. Being second in command had its perks, moving offices around being one of them.

A knock on the door turned them around. “Come,” Jack called.

The door opened and a female SF poked her head in. “Excuse me, sir, I promised Daniel I’d bring, uh, a little something by for him.”

Daniel straightened and smiled, slipping out of the circle of Jack’s arm while swiping at the betraying tears on his cheeks. “Thanks, Tracy , er – ” he threw Jack a quick glance, “I mean Sergeant.”

Waring, that was her name. She was new, one of several recently arrived fresh-faced soldiers. She had to be good at her job to be assigned here, but Jack couldn’t help thinking she looked too young to be in the military.

Sergeant Waring grinned and took a step forward while throwing a nervous look at Jack. He sighed and waved her in and she handed Daniel a small, brown paper bag.

“Fresh from France .”

She darted another cautious glance at her CO as she spoke. Jack was used to the nervousness that sprung up around him, especially from newbies. He neither encouraged nor discouraged it, figuring it never hurt for young military personnel to be a little nervous around superior officers. It showed they had respect, besides they'd get over it soon enough.

“What’s fresh from France ?” he demanded as Daniel took the bag.

“Thanks, Tracy – Sergeant,” Daniel said at almost the same time. Before she could answer he opened the bag and pulled out a small wrapped bar of...

“It’s chocolate, Jack.” He peered into the bag before beaming up at the SF. “Six bars!”

“My sister lives in France, Colonel,” Waring explained, meeting his eyes. “When I met Daniel a few weeks ago and discovered he was a fellow chocolate aficionado I thought he might like to share in the treats she occasionally sends me. I hope that's not a problem, sir.”

"No problem here," Jack assured her.

Daniel’s smile filled his small face. “This is great, Tracy . Thanks for remembering.”

“Hey, us chocolate aficionados have to stick together.” Her smile was almost as wide as his.

Jack glanced at his watch in an effort to move things along. Daniel didn’t notice but the sharp new SF did.

“I have to get back to work. I’ll talk to you later, Daniel.” Waring took the hint and didn’t waste any time.

“Okay. Thanks again!”

She nodded, glanced at Jack who also nodded, and vanished, closing the door behind her.

Daniel turned to Jack. “Do you want one?” he offered, holding out the bar.

“Maybe later, thanks.” Jack gave him a pat on the shoulder. “We need to head for the gateroom.”

“Oh!” Daniel jumped up, almost dropping the bag. Jack took it from him and set it on the desk.

“Come on!” Daniel hurried toward the door. “Maybe they’ve started without us.”

Jack caught him at the door. “Take it easy, kiddo, they won’t start without us.”

As they approached the massive room that held the Stargate, General Hammond appeared at the opposite end of the corridor. He smiled at the sight of them.

“Good morning, Colonel, Daniel. Is all well at home?”

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Jack thanked whatever fates were in charge of deciding who would command Cheyenne Mountain after West’s departure. That the General’s first comment on this auspicious day would be to ask about Charlie and Sara was more proof that the base had hit the jackpot with its recent change of command. General West had been a good commander but General Hammond was in a league of his own.

“Yes, sir, thank you.”

“That’s good to hear.” Hammond bestowed a paternal smile on Daniel. “Are you ready for the big event?”

 “Yes, sir! Are we going to do it now?” Daniel could barely contain his excitement.

“In a few minutes.” A mechanical, whirring sound came from behind him and he glanced over his shoulder. “Ah, good. Shall we get out of the way, gentlemen?”

Jack turned Daniel toward the stairs that led up to the control room just as the MALP rumbled into view, followed by Captain Carter and Sergeant Siler who was holding some type of hand-held control. When Daniel stopped in front of him, Jack glanced down.

“What are you waiting for?”

“I just want to see.” Daniel craned his neck to watch the MALP disappear into the gateroom.

“You’ll be able to see everything up in the control room,” Jack reminded him with a smile.

“Oh, right!” Daniel sped up the stairs after Hammond while Jack lingered.

“Everything look okay?” he demanded.

Siler nodded and Carter said, “We’re good to go, sir.” She was striving to maintain a professional air but excitement shone in her eyes.

“Good. After the MALP is situated, make sure you get out before the room is locked up.”

“Yes, sir.” Siler fiddled with the remote as he spoke.

“Sir, don’t you think we should have an observer inside?” Carter asked, not for the first time.

“That’s what the MALP is for, Captain.” Jack stifled a smile at the obvious hint.

“Yes, sir, but I was thinking – ”

He cut her off. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, Carter. Better to risk the MALP than people.”

“Yes, sir.” Her shoulders drooped but she nodded smartly.

Jack knew how she felt. It was all he could do to maintain a calm demeanor himself. Despite Carter being a brilliant scientist, they both loved the adventure of the unknown, albeit for different reasons. She was more like Daniel in that she loved exploration as a means of discovering the new and confirming the old. Jack likened it to mountain climbing. She'd want to get to the top to take soil samples and run atmospheric tests while he'd climb the same mountain to test himself, to see what was up there and to prove he could. Still, they'd both have a burning desire to get to the top. He and Carter were very different, yet in some ways they were two sides of the same coin.

 Jack entered the control room and spotted Daniel standing directly in front of the large window looking down into the huge gateroom. One of the computer techs walked up behind the boy and hesitated. Jack realized Daniel was blocking his way.

“Daniel.” The boy looked up at him and he gestured him to his side. The technician gave him a grateful look and slid into the chair.

Jack smiled when Captain Carter bounded up the stairs two at a time. They were almost ready. It was an anxious but proud moment as Jack stood amid the controlled chaos swirling around him, his focus divided between the small figure beside him and the great circle of unearthly stone in the room below. Daniel was standing so close Jack could feel the boy's body vibrating with excitement.

“We’re ready, sir,” the senior tech said.

Hammond stood behind the technician’s chair, his eyes on the Stargate. “Commence dialing sequence,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Jack heard Daniel’s faint catch of breath and when he put a hand on the boy's shoulder he felt the rising tension.

“Easy, kiddo.” He spoke softly so no one but Daniel could hear. Daniel nodded but his eyes never left the Stargate

Everyone jumped when the inner circle of the gate began to revolve, slowly, inexorably. Jack's own tension ratcheted up a few notches at the sight and there was nothing he could do to slow down the increased pounding of his heart.

“Chevron One locked... and holding,” the technician announced.

Jack’s free hand tightened into a fist. The blast doors were down, apart from the MALP the room was empty and sealed. The glass fronting the control room was supposed to be impenetrable. He hoped so but there was no way to know what was going to happen. If something went wrong - at least Jack was in a position to protect Daniel if the worst happened and everything went to hell.

When the second chevron locked into place, a faint tremor ran through the floor. Simultaneously, a low, almost inaudible hum filled the room. Jack tensed and his hand tightened on Daniel’s shoulder. A brief sideways glance revealed Hammond standing calmly, though he had to feel the reverberations, too.

“Chevron Three locked... and holding.”

The whining hum increased almost as if in response to the announcement. Jack stared down into the gateroom as the sliding inner wheel of the Stargate reversed direction again.

“Chevron Four locked and holding!” the technician called out.

The tension in the room rose as each symbol locked into place. The fifth chevron locked in, then the sixth, each duly identified by the technician who was shouting now to be heard over the deafening hum that rocked the room. Jack tried not to grip Daniel’s shoulder too hard, uncertain how much longer this would go on and whether the mountain could stand it.

“Chevron Seven locked and holding!”

“Jack, look!” Daniel shouted.

He was already looking, in disbelief. What looked like a score of shimmering silver snakes erupted from all around the inner ring and shot straight into the center of the Stargate, where they combined and spread out to form a solid, shimmering surface.

It all happened within a few heartbeats. Then the strange optical illusion suddenly began splashing violently as if it was made of some otherworldly water. A split-second later it exploded out into the room.

Despite the impenetrable glass they all jumped back. Someone screamed. Before they had time to react, the energy was drawn back through the Stargate and shot out the other side faster than their eyes could follow.

Of all the impossible things Jack had seen in the last thirty seconds, the most impossible was this – the water or whatever the hell it was didn’t collapse in a cascade all over the floor. Instead, it hung sideways in the air in another mind-blowing violation of physics.

Every computer in the control room was blaring earsplitting protests, as if in sympathy with the shocked human witnesses. Jack spared a brief moment to wonder if their equipment would be able to make sense of something so obviously alien.

“Isn’t it beautiful, Jack?”

Because of the surrounding din, Jack almost missed the exclamation. Daniel was looking up at him with a beatific smile that offset the tears sliding down the boy's cheeks.

Before he could respond he heard Carter behind him.

“It’s moving!”

Jack spun around, keeping a firm grip on his boy. She was standing before the large map of the galaxy, one finger pointing at the small blue dot that signified Earth and the other following a small red laser X as it traversed slowly across the monitor.

When it finally stopped, Sam was leaning so close to the schematic her nose was almost touching it.

“Well?” Jack asked.

When she straightened her eyes were huge.

“It’s locked onto a point on the opposite side of our galaxy. It has mass.” Her voice was shaking.

“Another planet?” Jack demanded.

“I... I can’t say, sir. Perhaps it’s a moon, or... or an asteroid. There’s definitely something there.”

 The room went quiet. “Are you sure, Captain?” Hammond was the first to recover his voice in the midst of the shocked silence.

“Absolutely sure, sir,” she said firmly.

The General nodded at Jack who turned to the microphone and clicked it on.

“Siler, anything from the MALP?”

“No, sir. I’m not reading any radiation or anything else dangerous.”

“You getting that?” Jack glanced at Carter who now stood in front of one of the monitors.

“Yes, sir. The computers confirm the MALP’s initial readings.”

Jack took a deep breath and glanced at his C.O. Hammond didn’t speak; he didn’t need to.

“Send the MALP through.” With the words, Jack knew his world had changed forever.

Daniel wrapped his arms around himself in an effort to control his shivers. He wasn’t cold, it was the excitement, and maybe a little bit of nerves. Fortunately, Jack was distracted and didn’t notice. If he had, Daniel was afraid the man might insist he leave, and he wasn’t about to do that.

What he’d just seen was impossible. Yet he’d seen it, and so had a whole roomful of people. Sam said the Stargate was locked on some point on the other side of the galaxy. Daniel wondered if she knew what her words meant. Here was proof that the Stargate was a gate, a portal to other worlds. And the symbols on the gate were addresses, at least they were if they were set up in the correct order.

Because of his preoccupation, Daniel almost missed the MALP going through the gate. It had trundled up to the top of the ramp before he noticed it. A split-second later he saw Sergeant Siler at the bottom of the ramp with the control in his hand.

Daniel watched the MALP motor forward into that strange, shimmering surface. The microphones in the gateroom were on and everyone could hear a kind of sucking sound as the probe was swallowed up.

“Is the MALP still sending back a signal?” General Hammond demanded.

“I... ah... just a minute, sir.”

Daniel counted the passing seconds under his breath until the technician said – “We’re getting something, sir!”

Six seconds, Daniel thought and gazed at the closest monitor. Six seconds for the signal to travel across the galaxy.

More seconds ticked by before the technician announced, “We’re losing the signal,” and the fantastic display vanished.

“What happened?” Daniel asked simultaneously with Jack.

"The MALP is sending back data," Captain Carter announced from another computer. "But it's going to take a few minutes to decipher it all."

Please, please, please, Daniel thought. Please let him be able to see it.

“We don’t know if we have anything interesting yet, sirs,” Sam reported to Jack and the General.

Daniel bit back what he wanted to say. He knew it would be interesting. He just knew it.

Ten minutes later the room had been cleared. To Daniel’s everlasting delight, Jack insisted he remain. Apart from Jack and Daniel, only General Hammond, Captain Carter, and a couple of technicians were still in the control room.

Sam fiddled with the keyboard. “Here are the images the MALP sent back through the Stargate.”

Daniel leaned forward, barely able to breathe. The picture was dim but they could see as the camera on the MALP slowly panned across... it wasn’t a cave. It was a room. With stone walls. And there – 

“Another Stargate!” Daniel shouted jubilantly. He felt Jack’s hand on his shoulder and immediately regretted his outburst. “Sorry,” he said quickly, fearing they would send him out.

Jack gave him a silent pat and he relaxed.

“I want a closer look,” Hammond ordered.

The technician’s fingers skipped over his keyboard and the details of the ring came into focus. Daniel gasped in excitement. This time he was careful to contain his excitement.

“Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Those markings... are different than on our Stargate.” He wanted to shout out the amazing news but kept his voice low.

“You sure?”

Daniel was amazed that Jack was so calm. He was glad too; otherwise he thought his head might explode from the excitement.

“I’m sure. They’re different.”

“General, sir?” It was another technician. “According to these readouts, the atmosphere there is a perfect match to our own.”

Daniel tore his eyes away from the computer image to look at Jack. He was in time to see Jack and General Hammond exchange glances.

“My office, Colonel. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” Jack gave Daniel’s shoulder a little squeeze. “You stay right here, kiddo. And don't touch anything.”

“Okay, Jack.”

He watched the two men disappear up the stairs and then he noticed Sam. She was still gazing at the computer monitor. Perhaps feeling his gaze, she smiled at him.

“Do you realize that what’s happened in the last ten minutes is impossible?” She spoke with surprising calm. Daniel wasn’t fooled.

“Isn’t it great?” he exclaimed, and they both laughed with a combination of disbelief, excitement and pure joy.

Chapter 13

When Jack and Hammond reached the office, Jack made sure the door was closed behind them.

“Sit down, Colonel.” The General took his seat.

Jack obeyed, fighting back the emotions warring within him since the MALP had successfully gone through Stargate. This could be it. A time that would forever alter Earth's history and its perceptions of itself. And here he was, Jack O'Neill, at the heart of it all. He drew a deep, calming breath. This wasn’t the time for enthusiasm. He needed to distance himself from the reality in order to maintain a professional air.

For a long minute, Hammond sat very still, his gaze focused on his folded hands resting on the desk. Jack felt a trickle of unease. The General wasn’t acting like someone who was about to oversee the most important mission in the history of the planet.

Hammond raised his eyes. “Now that we know there’s something on the other side of the Stargate, we need to investigate.”

“Yes, sir.” Jack nodded, all business, even though he wanted to laugh and jump up and down and punch the air. This must be how Charlie felt the moment before he jumped out of a tree or rode a skateboard behind a car.

“It will be a simple mission to gather as much information as possible within a designated area, and bring it back.”

Jack’s heart soared at hearing the orders for the official mission. It was real, it was happening, he was going to lead the first team to travel from Earth to another world.

“Yes, sir,” he repeated, dampening down his excitement.

Hammond took a deep breath. “You, of course, will lead this mission. There are, however, two other issues. The first is that if you find anything dangerous to the security of Earth, you will destroy that Stargate.”

“Sir?” The excitement was replaced with disbelief.

“A small, unassembled nuclear device will be sent through the Stargate with your team,” Hammond continued. “If you locate anything that could endanger Earth, you will assemble the device and see that it blows up the Stargate on that planet.”

“But my team – ” Jack began.

“You will send your team back through the Stargate before you trigger the device.” The General spoke in that same cool, unemotional voice. “The device will have a timer, Colonel. You'll have enough time to allow you and your team to return to Earth before the explosion occurs. Once you're back, we will then destroy our Stargate.”

As Jack listened his shock was replaced by anger. The galaxy was suddenly opened up to them, an opportunity no one in the world could have imagined, and they were going to destroy the chance to follow it through and see where it led? This was nuts!

“Sir,” he said between clenched teeth, “may I ask why?”

“Yes, Colonel, you may,” Hammond returned. “You have a right to ask why.”

That surprised Jack. Orders were orders and a military man knew better than to question them.

“I have recently learned,” the General continued, "that there are certain high-ranking forces within the government who are not happy about the possibilities presented by the Stargate. They feel it's too dangerous, that it opens this world up to risks we can’t imagine.” Hammond glanced down at his folded hands before meeting Jack's gaze.

“Between you and me, Colonel, the President doesn’t agree. However, at this time, he feels he has no choice but to go along with those who do.”

It was Jack’s turn to look down because he didn’t want the General to see his frustration and fury. They had the opportunity of a lifetime here and they were going to piss it away, blow it up because of a couple of paranoid politicians?

He gathered his self-control. “Sir, isn’t there something else, short of blowing up the gate, that we could – ”

He stopped because Hammond was shaking his head. “Colonel, if you find anything that could be dangerous out there, you will arm the device and blow up the Stargate.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. Was that a loophole he’d heard? He chose his next words carefully. “So if we don’t find anything dangerous, then I don’t have to blow up the gate, sir?”

For a second, the General's stern expression softened. “That wasn’t actually discussed, Colonel. However, I am willing to approve an alternate mission. If you don’t run across any problems, you and your team will return to Earth and I will then discuss with the President whether the destruction of the Stargate is necessary.”

Jack recognized that Hammond was going out on a limb. It didn't sound as if the President was keen on destroying the gate either, so maybe, in the end, the General would have enough support to weather the wrath of a paranoid politician or two.

This could work after all.

“Yes, sir.” Jack didn't bother to hide his relief. “When do we go through?”

“I’ve managed to persuade my superiors to wait seventy-two hours.”

Jack was impressed all over again with his C.O. General Hammond was a decent man. He was giving his people time to break the news about the mission, even if they couldn’t provide any details, and to spend a little time with their families. Time to settle anything that needed to be settled. Jack would tell Sara right away. He didn’t look forward to that conversation, having to leave on a mission so soon after getting Charlie back. He’d have to break the news to Charlie, too. That wasn’t going to be easy but at least Hammond had ensured they'd all have time to say goodbye. Just in case.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, on behalf of himself and his team.

“There’s one more thing, Colonel,” Hammond pushed ahead, looking grim.

“Yes, sir?”

“I've never sent any of my people on a suicide mission.” Hammond ’s voice was cold and for some reason his tone raised the tiny hairs on the back of Jack’s neck. “I don’t intend to start now.”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

“Someone will need to translate the symbols on the other Stargate in order for your team to be able to return to Earth.”

That fast, Jack caught his meaning and stifled a curse. They were going to have to take a civilian along for the ride. Of all the stupid, risky ideas – but the General was right. Jack couldn’t read those weird picto-thingys. Neither could any other soldier on the base. It would have to be one of the scientists who’d been working with Daniel on translating that stuff. Lee? Rothman? One of the others?

As much as Jack hated the idea, he couldn’t deny it was necessary. This wasn’t a suicide mission and thank god for that.

“Which one, sir?” He was surprised when Hammond looked away. “Sir?”

The General met his puzzled gaze. “I’ve spoken with both Dr. Lee and Dr. Rothman. Their knowledge of the alien language is not sufficient to allow them to act as an interpreter.”

Jack frowned in confusion. “They’ve been working closer with Daniel than anyone, sir. Who else – ”

A light went on and he stopped in mid-sentence. At first Jack wanted to laugh because they couldn't be serious. He met the pale blue eyes of his C.O., eyes filled with compassion and guilt, and the urge to laugh was swallowed up by shock.

“No. That’s not going to happen, sir.” That was it. His final word on the subject.

“I'm truly sorry, Colonel.” Hammond looked him in the eye. “Daniel is the only person on the base, probably the only person on the planet, who can translate those symbols. He's the only one who can ensure this will not be a suicide mission.”

“No.” Jack said the word again. Hadn't Hammond heard him the first time? They couldn't possibly expect him to take a kid along on a mission. Especially a mission of this caliber. It was an insane idea. Worse than insane. How could anyone believe he'd be willing to expose his own child to such risks, not only the known risks but the billion and one unknown risks of going through the Stargate to a planet on the other side of the galaxy?

He shook his head. “No, sir.” He'd put an end to it. “I’ll resign before I let that happen.”

“That’s not an option, Colonel.” The General took a deep breath.

 “Sir – ”

“Colonel, do you recall me mentioning certain high-ranking forces in the government who'd prefer to see the Stargate destroyed?”

“Yes, sir.” Jack struggled to stay focused.

“If the mission does not take place, this program will be closed down and the Stargate will be buried. Maybe forever.”

Frustration coursed through Jack’s veins. “So they win either way? Either we go through and blow up the Stargate or we don’t go through and the program is shut down!”

“You’re forgetting the other possibility, Colonel.”

Jack stared at his C.O. “We go through the gate,” he said slowly, “don’t find anything threatening, and come back. And maybe go through again.”

“Correct.”

For a brief, dizzying instant, Jack imagined going through the Stargate on a regular basis, traveling to other worlds, maybe other galaxies, meeting genuine aliens and seeing things that would have sounded like fantasy a few weeks ago. All he had to do was lead his team through the Stargate – his team and Daniel.

Daniel. There was no way in hell... “Sir, I’ve spent a lot of years in Special Ops. Not once has a child accompanied one of my teams on a mission. And that’s right here on good old planet Earth. The MALP made it through the gate but there’s no way to know for sure if human beings can survive short of testing it. Even if we survive the trip, there’s no way of knowing what we'll find on the other side. Maybe nothing. But, maybe something. I want to do this, General. I want to do this more than I’ve ever wanted to do anything. But I can’t risk Daniel with so many unknowns.”

“Then the program will be shut down.” Hammond leaned back in his chair.

“Sir, if there was any other way...” The thought of closing down the program, especially now, was unconscionable.

“Colonel,” Hammond interrupted, “do you recall a conversation we had approximately a month ago? You recommended the program go forward and I advised you of my reservations.”

Jack remembered. The conversation had occurred a few days before he'd taken the boys camping. God, had it only been a month ago?

“Yes, sir.”

“During that conversation, I expressed my concern about what may be ‘out there.’” He waved a hand vaguely toward the ceiling. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about that, Colonel. According to our best information, the Stargate was built ten thousand years ago.” He shook his head at the thought. “By aliens with technology we can’t hope to understand. What if those aliens are still out there? Some or all of whom may not be friendly? And if there are unfriendly aliens out there, how will we know, short of them attacking our world? We need to know, Colonel. We need intel and there’s only one way to get that intel. Through that.” This time he waved in the direction of the gateroom.

“If your mission doesn’t take place the program will be shut down. The Stargate will be buried. In which case, I fear for the future of Earth.”

Jack stared at the General. He'd been so focused on Daniel that he hadn’t thought of the military implications. Someone very advanced had built the Stargate ten thousand years ago. Ten thousand years ago! How much more advanced was that someone now? And if one ‘someone’ had existed ten thousand years ago, how many other someones existed out there in the galaxy today, hell, in any one of millions of galaxies?

The thought of risking Daniel was unthinkable but so was the idea that Earth and its billions of inhabitants could be destroyed because he refused to take his boy through the Stargate.

Faced with those two choices there was only one thing he could do and the truth made his shoulders sag in defeat.

“I guess the mission's a go, sir.”

“Very well, Colonel.” Hammond ’s lips tightened. “Before you leave, I need to apologize.”

 “Excuse me, sir?” Jack eyes narrowed.

“When this mission was first proposed and I was ordered to include the possibility of using a nuclear device to destroy the other Stargate, I protested. I told the President in the strongest possible terms that I could not, in good conscience, order my people through the Stargate unless I could be sure they had a means to return home, which required someone who could interpret the symbols on the other side. The President agreed that a civilian would accompany your team. I originally thought Dr. Lee or Dr. Rothman would be that individual.” Hammond shook his head. “Unfortunately, neither of them know the language well enough.”

“Which leaves Daniel.” Jack couldn’t be angry with his C.O. The General had only been trying to protect his people. At the time he'd made the argument, he hadn’t known an eleven-year-old boy would be the only person qualified for the job.

“If there’s nothing else, sir...” Jack allowed the words to trail away and Hammond nodded, looking more burdened than when their conversation began.

“Dismissed, Colonel.”

As Jack left his C.O.’s office, one thought ran a continuous loop through his head. How in god’s name was he going to tell Sara that he was leaving for a mission in a few days and he was taking Daniel with him?

He walked down the steel stairwell and ran full into Daniel, who was still bouncing with enthusiasm.

“Sam was called to her lab but she said she’d be back soon.” It seemed like every muscle in Daniel's body was quivering with excitement. “Are we going to open the Stargate again? Can we fix the computers so we can see what the MALP sees when it sees it? Are we going to make the MALP go other places so we can see what else is there? Do you think any people are living there? Maybe the MALP will show us people! Could we talk to them with the MALP?”

The questions came out rapid-fire, the words tumbling over each other so fast Jack could barely keep up. He noticed the technicians looking rather worn and suspected the boy had been peppering them with questions, too. Putting an arm around the slim shoulders, he steered Daniel toward the door.

“Let’s go back to your office and talk.”

Daniel beamed at him. “Okay, I’ve got lots of stuff to do there, anyway. I have to put away the rest of the stuff in the boxes – you saw them, didn’t you? Tracy said she’d see that everything I was working on in the science lab was delivered to my office.” He stumbled over the last two words and his smile widened. "It's so cool that I have an office!

“Did General Hammond say we could open the Stargate again? Do we know where the MALP is going to go this time? What did Sam mean when she said that the Stargate was guiding itself? Was that the address that was dialed in? It automatically knew where to go, didn’t it?”

Jack sighed as he guided the oblivious boy along the corridors and into and out of the elevators. Daniel was being so, so Daniel, a brilliant little boy who had more questions than anyone could possibly answer, excited out of his head and happy to drag along anyone who would come with him on his unending quest for knowledge. Despite all that had happened in his young life, Daniel still contained such a capacity for curiosity and excitement that it made Jack’s heart ache to see it. To take this little boy through the Stargate...

He pushed the negative thoughts aside. It would be okay. He’d make sure it would be okay. Daniel would be fine. The mission would go according to plan and their first trip through the Stargate would be Daniel’s last.

As they approached Daniel’s office, Jack saw the door was open and heard someone shuffling things around. He held Daniel back as he peered inside. Sergeant Tracy Waring was shifting a box on the floor with her booted foot to make room for the one in her arms.

“Hi, Tracy !” Daniel ran inside, then stopped and gave Jack a guilty look. “I mean, Sergeant Waring,” he corrected.

She set the box down and straightened. Her smile slipped at the sight of Jack. “Sir. Daniel. This is the last of the boxes containing the items Daniel was studying in the science lab.”

“Thanks. You’re dismissed.” Jack nodded brusquely at her. He needed to talk to Daniel ASAP and the SF’s presence was delaying the conversation.

“Yes, sir.” She smiled at Daniel and vanished before the boy could speak. Daniel gave him a reproachful look.

“That wasn't very nice, Jack. I didn’t get to say goodbye and she’s been helping me.”

Nice had nothing to do with it. “You can tell her later, Daniel. Right now we need to talk – ”

“Look, Jack! Isn’t it beautiful?” Daniel snatched something out of one of the boxes Waring had left and held it up.

It was a medallion embossed with some kind of weird symbol. Despite the new delay, Jack couldn’t help being impressed. It looked like it was made of solid gold.

Daniel was equally impressed. “The symbol is an *udjat*, half bird and half human eye. It’s the Eye of Ra.”

Jack wondered why the artifact evoked such a reverent tone but he had more important things to discuss and didn’t want to risk getting sidetracked. “Yeah, I see it. Put it down, Daniel. We need to talk.”

“What’s wrong?” Something in his tone caught the boy’s attention. Daniel looked up at him, the medallion forgotten.

Jack forced a smile. “Nothing’s wrong. Here.” He pulled a stool over. “Have a seat.”

Daniel set the medallion on the table and climbed up on the stool. Jack leaned against the counter and eyed him thoughtfully. How in the hell was he going to do this?

"Are you sure nothing’s wrong, Jack?”

Shit. This wasn’t how he wanted to start the talk. Daniel’s blue eyes were wide with worry.

“No, there’s nothing wrong.” He sighed and tried for a lighter tone. “Thanks to you we know how to open the Stargate. General Hammond and I have been talking about what to do next and – ”

“You’re going to go through it!” Daniel jumped off his stool and caught Jack’s arm. “What if it's dangerous, Jack? What if something goes wrong? Sara and Charlie – they need you!”

“Whoa, whoa.” Jack wrapped a reassuring arm around the boy. “Calm down, Daniel. I can’t talk to you unless you calm down.”

“Are you really going to go through the Stargate?” Daniel gulped a few times but Jack was relieved there were no tears.

“It's my job.” He crouched down so he could meet the anxious blue eyes.

“But – ”

“Ack!” Jack gestured emphatically and Daniel stopped talking, though his eyes were still speaking volumes. “You saw the MALP go through the Stargate to that other planet, right?” When Daniel nodded he hurried on. “That’s what I’m going to do, but – ” he raised his voice briefly when it looked as if the boy might interrupt. “I’m not going alone. I’m taking a team of experienced soldiers with me. We’re not going to stay a long time, just long enough to look around and see what’s there. Then we’ll come back home. It’ll take less than a day, kiddo, we’ll be right back.”

“But what if something goes wrong?” Daniel worried. “The Stargate is alien technology, Jack. Sam told me she’s barely scratched the surface of how it works. What if it does something weird? What if it sends you somewhere else or – ”

“Whoa.” Damn, sometimes he wished the kid wasn’t so smart. Of course, then they wouldn't be here. And he was going to have to talk to Carter about being more careful about what she said around Daniel.

“We’re not going to do anything fancy. We’re just going to do what we did this morning. Dial the same coordinates, open the gate, go through, look around, and come back.”

Daniel’s eyes widened until they looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. “But you won’t be able to! The symbols on that other Stargate are different, remember? You won’t be able to read them! You won’t know how to come back!”

“Daniel – ”

“You won’t be able to come back, Jack, and it’ll be my fault!” Tears spilled down the boy’s cheeks.

Oh for crying out loud.

Jack hugged the boy against him. “Yes, I will.” he paused. "We'll all be able to come back because – ” he took a deep breath and forced out the rest – “because you’ll be along to figure out those other symbols so we can come home.”

Daniel’s mouth opened and stayed open as he stared at Jack, who took the opportunity to wipe the tears from the boy’s face. He looked even younger than his eleven years and Jack damned the fates for forcing him into such an impossible situation.

“Daniel?”

Nothing. The kid continued to stare at him, unmoving, unblinking. It looked like he had turned into a statute. Jack gently jostled him.

“Earth to Daniel. Come in.”

Daniel’s mouth moved and a faint squeak escaped. The ridiculous sound surprised both of them and Jack laughed and gave him another hug.

“What was that?” he demanded.

Daniel smiled faintly, his expression one of disbelief. “I...” he said, almost in a whisper. “I’m going with you... through the... through the Stargate?”

“Yeah.” Jack was relieved that the boy didn’t seem frightened by the thought. That had been one of his concerns. Of course Daniel was still in shock. “You and me, kiddo, plus the team. What do ya say?”

“I’m going with you,” Daniel repeated. “Through the Stargate.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Jack nodded.

Daniel drew back and looked around the room before meeting Jack’s anxious gaze. “I’m going with you,” he said a little louder this time.

“Through the Stargate,” Jack said.

“Through the Stargate,” Daniel parroted.

He stood very still and Jack wasn't sure what else to say. Suddenly the boy gave a whoop that almost startled Jack back on his ass.

“Daniel – ” he stopped as the kid began spinning in circles around the room waving his arms in excitement.

“I’m going with you!” he yelled. “I’m going with you through the Stargate!”

Jack laughed in astonishment as Daniel spun around, avoiding chairs as he moved. He looked like he was doing a drunken kind of dance, he was spinning so fast Jack knew he couldn’t keep it up for long. In two quick strides he reached Daniel and caught him by the arms.

“Hold on there, kiddo!”

Daniel staggered against him. “I’m going with you through the Stargate!”

He was blinking, trying to clear away the dizziness. After a minute he straightened and looked up at Jack. His eyes were shimmering with tears again, except these were obviously happy tears.

“I’m going through the Stargate,” he whispered.

Hmm, Daniel had forgotten something this time around.

“With me,” Jack reminded him. “And my team.”

“Am I part of your team?”

Jack took a minute to consider the question. “You’ll be coming along more like a mission specialist.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you have special abilities we need to successfully complete the mission.”

“You need me for the mission to be successful?” Daniel was beaming, unaware of the tears sliding down his cheeks.

“Yeah, we do.” Jack wiped the boy’s cheeks again. As hard as it was to say, it was the truth. Hammond had been right. They needed Daniel on this mission if it was going to be successful.

“I’m going through the Stargate. And I can look out for your six,” he said with a widening smile.

Where in the hell had the kid heard that phrase? Jack suspected from Charlie. “We’ll make a deal. You’ll look out for my six and I’ll look out for yours. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough.” Daniel gave a vigorous nod and his face lit up with another huge smile. “I’m going through the Stargate.”

Jack understood the joy in the boy's voice and the wide smile. He felt the same way.

“You really want to go? What happened to the possible dangers?”

Daniel looked at him in surprise. “Of course, Jack. Visiting another world, maybe meeting aliens. If I live a hundred years I can’t imagine anything half as amazing or wonderful. Just think of what we might see, what we could learn.”

Oh, to be young again.

“Okay,” Jack said.

It didn't surprise him to see this side of Daniel. The kid was prone to high excitement. This time there was an edge. No, not an edge. Words weren’t Jack’s thing but he fumbled until he came across the right one. Maturity. That’s what he’d heard in Daniel’s voice and seen in the kid’s expression, a new level of maturity. This was more than a boyish adventure to the eleven-year-old and the realization made Jack uneasy. He told himself it was because he didn’t like the thought of the boy growing up and tried to dismiss the feeling.

“You need to listen to me carefully, Daniel.”

“Okay, Jack.”

“I mean on the mission. On this mission, you'll be under my command. You need to do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you, no questions asked, no nothing. Got it?”

“But what if I have an important question?”

Jack sighed. Leave it to Daniel. “You can ask me anything you want, except when I give you a direct order. Then you have to obey that order immediately, understand?”

“But what if I know something you don’t, Jack? Wouldn’t you need to know?” Daniel's face was scrunched up in thought. It was obvious he wanted to get this right.

“Daniel,” Jack said patiently, “you’re going to have to trust me on this. I’ve been doing this for a long time. I know what I’m doing.”

“You’ve never gone through the Stargate before,” Daniel reminded him. “It’ll all be new and different this time, won’t it?”

It took an effort but Jack managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. “Some of it will be new but not the part about making decisions and giving and taking orders. I’ll be in command. When I give an order I expect it to be obeyed. Period. End of story. No questions, no arguments. No ‘but Jack’s’, no nothing. Got it?”

“But what if – ”

“Daniel.” Jack raised his voice. “Did you hear what I just said?”

“Yes, but – ”

“And do you understand everything I just said?”

“Yes, Jack, but – ”

“Good.” He stood up and gave the boy a stern look, hoping he'd understand that their discussion was over. Daniel subsided with a sigh and Jack nodded his approval.

“One more thing, kiddo. You can’t say anything about this to Sara or Charlie. It's top secret. Classified.”

“I have to lie?” Daniel’s face fell.

“No, no lies. This is a classified mission so they can’t know any of the details. Just like you can’t talk about your work at the base, you can’t talk about the mission. I’ll talk to Sara and tell her you need to come with me this time. She won’t ask questions. She knows better.”

Jack hoped that was true. Ordinarily it would be, but ordinarily he wouldn’t be taking Daniel with him. The thought of how Sara might respond to that revelation made him wince. As for Charlie, he was going to be even more difficult than Sara.

“So.” Jack clapped his hands together. He'd figure out the best way to approach Sara and Charlie later. “Any questions, kiddo?”

When Daniel shook his head, still smiling in excitement, Jack continued. “I want you to stay here or in the science lab so I can find you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I have some things I need to do,” Jack continued. “It’ll probably take awhile so I’ll have someone drive you home this afternoon.”

“I can stay until the usual time,” Daniel protested.

“No.” Now that Daniel had his own office, there was no way he was going to be able to stay here without Jack around to monitor him. The kid had no idea how to pace himself. “Charlie will be home from school today a little after 3:30 . I want you home then, too.”

“Oh, right.” Daniel looked a little shamefaced. He’d gotten out of school today as a special treat because of the Stargate being opened. It had been Charlie's first day back and Daniel felt badly about not going with him. Sara hadn't been too happy about it either.

“See you later.” Jack gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Bye, Jack.”

"Bye."

As he went through the door Jack glanced back and saw Daniel climbing back on the stool with the Ra medallion in his hand. The look of total absorption on the kid’s face made him smile.

Chapter 14

The memory kept Jack smiling as he made his way through the maze of corridors. He detoured to his office to make a quick call to Hammond who okayed him leaving the Mountain in the middle of the day. Thank god for an understanding C.O.

As he drove down the winding, mountainous road, Jack debated several possible scenarios for the upcoming conversation. It had been two years since his last mission, and that one had ended in disaster with his unexpected detour to an Iraqi prison. Sara didn't know the details of that mission or what had happened to him, but she had endured those months alone, trying to be both mom and dad to Charlie, reassuring him while wondering every day if her husband was dead or alive. Even after Jack returned home, it had taken months to reach the point where he woke up in the morning feeling good about himself and about life in general. Sara didn’t have any good memories about his last mission.

And now he was coming home early to tell her about his latest assignment. Not only a new mission but one that required Daniel to go with him. Sara knew he was no longer in Special Ops and she would rightfully wonder what the hell he was doing. She wasn’t going to be happy.

Damn. 

Jack checked his watch as he pulled into the driveway. It was one forty-five . The drive had taken less time than usual. He had plenty of time to talk to Sara before the boys arrived home, Charlie from school and Daniel from the Mountain. She had switched shifts with a friend at the hospital so she was home earlier than usual today, so this was the perfect time to talk to her.

He'd love to put this off but with only seventy-two hours to work with, stalling wasn’t an option. He had to talk this through with Sara ASAP, otherwise he wouldn't be able to focus on the upcoming mission. He needed to get this settled.

Jack barely stepped through the front door when Sara appeared, first looking startled and then concerned. It wasn't often her husband showed up in the middle of the afternoon on a work day. And when he did, it was rarely with good news.

"Is everything okay?"

He couldn't blame her for the timid-sounding question after all they'd been through in the past month. He hated to add to that burden but what choice did he have?

"Jack, are you okay?" She tilted her head, checking him out to see if he was sick or injured.

"I'm fine. Just fine." He went to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

They hugged then broke the embrace and stared at each other for a few long seconds. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Charlie?" she started, no doubt wondering what trouble their errant son had strayed into this time.

"No. I need to talk to you about Daniel. And, uh, something else." Jack watched her eyes cloud with concern and wondered again how in the hell he was going to explain this so it made sense.

Somehow, he had to make her understand the importance. Daniel was going on the mission, that ship had sailed and now he had no choice. No matter how Jack sliced it, he always came to the same conclusion. Hammond was right, Daniel was the key. Eleven-year-old Daniel Jackson had to go on this mission in order to ensure its success. Jack had resigned himself to that fact by the time he’d left Hammond ’s office. He'd take it slow with Sara. She didn't have the luxury of his knowledge to help her accept the inevitable. On the plus side, she didn't have the burden of knowing where they were going and how they were getting there.

"What about Daniel?"

Her eyes narrowed, probably recalling his efforts to convince her Daniel should be home-schooled at Cheyenne Mountain . Jack had lost that argument as soon as he brought it up, just before Charlie’s kidnapping. He couldn’t afford to lose this one. It was already decided. It wasn't fair to Sara but it was necessary for the United States and for the entire planet. Of course, Jack was too savvy to share the part about it being a done deal.

“Let's sit down and talk.”

Sara followed him into the living room and they both sat down on the sofa. She tucked one leg beneath her and gave him her full attention.

Jack took a deep breath and decided to dive right in. "I have an assignment and I need to take Daniel with me." His wife tended to appreciate the direct approach.

Her initial confusion gave way to surprise and concern. "Why? What possible use could Daniel be on a military mission?"

Jack hesitated. He had intentionally used the word assignment as opposed to mission to make it sound safer but his wife wasn't easily fooled. Sara waited a beat before realizing he couldn't answer the question. She made a face, no doubt wondering how the hell an eleven-year-old had obtained military authorization and why, and changed tactics.

"Are you telling me the Air Force doesn't have any adult translators? They need to involve a child in this, this, whatever it is?"

"We need Daniel." There wasn't much more he could tell her without crossing into forbidden territory.

"Why?" She stared determinedly, obviously not impressed with his 'top secret clearance' argument.

"I can't answer that, honey." Jack sighed when it became obvious she wasn’t going to let it go. "You know that."

"Is it dangerous?" She folded her arms, never a good sign.

Now there was an interesting question. He had already decided not to lie. He wouldn't do that to her.

"I don't know." It was honest, if not very informative.

"Jack! I don't understand you. You want to take Daniel on a mission and you're not positive it's safe? Why would you do that? Explain it to me." She looked him in the eye and didn't budge.

He knew he couldn't fully explain so he didn't try. Instead, Jack focused on the positives. "I'll be right there with him. I won't let him out of my sight. It's just that, he's the only one who can do what needs to be done." That was as far as he could go and still keep his sacred oath.

"How long will you be gone?"

"I'm not sure.” According to the time frame he and Hammond had discussed, they should be gone only a matter of hours. Jack decided to add a little more time, just to cover any unexpected delays. “A day, maybe two, so there’s no need for you to worry."

Sara didn't bother hiding her anger that was out-wrestling her confusion.

“This is ridiculous!” she snapped. "If it's just a day or two and no big deal why is it classified?"

Jack shrugged. What could he say?

“You have to tell me something more. He’s my son, too.” She glared at him, her blue eyes blazing.

He took her hand, half-expecting her to yank it away. “Yeah, he is and I’d tell you more if I could, but I can’t. If we didn't need him, I'd never allow it." He rubbed his thumb on her palm. "All I can tell you is that we need Daniel and I'll be right beside him, every step of the way. That's a promise."

Jack spoke the truth, though of course it wasn’t that simple. But he could hardly tell Sara the future of the world might hinge, at least in part, on an eleven-year-old coming along on this mission.

“You know I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe,” he repeated. "Please Sara, trust me."

Ultimately, that’s what it came down to, how much Sara trusted him. They stared at each other in silence. Jack watched her intently and noted the moment her anger turned to resignation.

"It's ridiculous and I don’t understand and I hate the idea but I do trust you, so I guess I'll have to live with it."

All things considered, their talk had gone better than he'd dared hope. It had been far easier for Sara to accept this vague mission than it had been for him. She didn't know all the mind-blowing facts.

"You'll take care of him." She let out a sigh and touched her fingertips to his face.

"I will." That was an easy vow to make. Jack had every intention of taking care of Daniel at all costs.

Sara kissed him full on the lips and he pulled her down so she was on top of him on the couch. He opened his mouth to accept her kiss when she stopped abruptly.

"You take care of yourself, too, Jack O'Neill."

"I will."

"Don't forget for one second that you have a wife and another son at home waiting for you. For both of you."

"I won't forget. I always remember." And he did.

"Promise me."

Jack would promise just about anything right now but it wasn’t difficult. He kept Charlie and Sara with him on every mission. He always had. They weren't necessarily in the forefront of his mind but they were always there, reminding him what he had to live for, giving him strength, willing him on, making it impossible for him to fail.

"I promise."

With the words she laid back down and kissed his neck. He heard the clock chime signaling 2:30. They had an hour before the boys arrived home and he planned to make good use of every second.

Jack needed to talk to Charlie. The mission, the impossible dream that he both anticipated and dreaded was less than seventy-two hours away. He wasn't expecting the news to go over well, and after the ordeal the kid had been through, Jack wished he could wait for the ever elusive "better time.” Charlie was doing better but the nightmares were troubling and he was being a little clingier than his normal, independent, almost twelve-year-old self. As much as Jack wanted to wait, he didn’t have that luxury. He was going to be spending most of the next few days at the base with mission preparation. He needed to talk to Charlie ASAP.

He should say something. Bring it up right now at dinner and let everyone vent and get it over with. Jack hesitated because this was one of those nights he cherished when his entire family was home and safe and sitting around the table together. This was always one of his favorite parts of the day, and after what had happened to Charlie it was a time he cherished even more. That, plus the fact that it was difficult for him to maintain his usual professional attitude about this particular mission. On the one hand, he was more excited than he’d ever been in his life. On the other, he couldn’t shake his uneasiness over taking Daniel through the Stargate to god knows where.

Despite his experience and training, Jack was struggling to stay in control of his emotions. He wouldn’t put it past his perceptive kid to notice. Charlie was like his mother that way. Sara had noticed his damped-down exuberance and even commented on it just before the boys arrived home.

Emotion was not part of Jack’s usual pre-mission demeanor. It was embarrassing. Torn between the thrill of a lifetime and worry for Daniel, he was acting like a little kid who still believed in Santa Claus talking about Christmas morning. Then again, he'd never traveled to another planet, and had never imagined taking his kid along for the ride.

Jack looked around the table at his family and decided not to squander their time together dreaming about the Wonder Gate when the here and now was just as precious. He’d tell Charlie after dinner.

"Hey, Dad, guess what happened at school today?” Charlie was squirting a huge mountain of Heinz on his plate in which to dip his special, made to order, meatloaf. Sara was still cooking his favorites.

“What?" Jack refrained from sarcastically asking if he was sure he had enough catsup.

Charlie nabbed a piece of meat with his fork and began dipping. "Kelly Wilkins threw up spaghetti and meatballs in Health class today. You could actually see the meatballs."

"What do you mean?  Whole meatballs?  Didn't she chew them?"

Jack guessed that was the wrong comment when Sara dropped her fork and rolled her eyes in his direction before giving them all a piece of her mind.

“Charlie, we're eating. Can we have one dinner conversation that doesn't involve body parts or body fluids or bodily functions? Just one. Is that too much to ask?"

Jack suppressed a smile. Sometimes Sara didn't get guy talk.

Daniel had his hand over his mouth in an obvious effort to contain his laughter and avoid joining the O'Neill men in Sara's doghouse.

"I was just saying..." Charlie muttered.

"Men.” Sara shook her head to emphasize the point and covered a smile as the three guys busied themselves with their dinner. Jack noticed, though.

"The meatloaf's good, honey." Despite her quickly-hidden smile, he hoped a compliment might further help to soothe her female sensibilities.

Charlie was undeterred. "Oh, and Dad, the assembly to welcome the new and returning students is this Friday night.”

Damn. In his excitement at what was happening at the Mountain, Jack had forgotten. Charlie was a new middle schooler this year, something he’d mentioned more than once. When Daniel had joined their family his certified genius status had put him in the class one year ahead of Charlie. Even though Daniel was still a year ahead, they were both now in middle school.

“Is that right?” Jack said weakly while his thoughts raced.

Charlie beamed. “Yep! And after assembly all the coaches are going to be talking to us. I saw Coach Engels and Coach Wilson in the hall yesterday and they both said they’re looking forward to having me on their teams again this year. And Coach Wilson wants to talk to you about doing some assistant coaching with the basketball team. Neat, huh?”

Charlie heaped a second pile of mashed potatoes on his plate as he chattered. Jack grimaced as the spuds flowed over into the unavoidable sea of catsup.

Crap. As much as he hated to ruin dinner and rock the boat, Jack had no choice now. Friday night he'd be out of town, out of state, out of the country, out of this world. He snorted at his own joke and took a quick glance at Daniel. Daniel had obviously done the math, too, and was keeping his head down, suddenly enthralled by his meatloaf.

Although he avoided looking at her, Jack could feel his wife’s gaze on him. So much for stall tactics.

"Won't that be fun, Dad? " Only Charlie was oblivious to the sudden tension.

"Charlie," Jack said, "I’m sorry, but I'm not going to be able to make the Friday assembly."

How many special events had he missed in his son's life and how many did he have left before Charlie was grown up and no longer needed or wanted him around? Jack pushed that thought aside. The Air Force was not only his job, it was a huge part of his life. It had its down sides but until he retired – and he was a long way from being ready to do that, especially now with the possibilities surrounding the Stargate – things weren’t going to change.

“You have to work?” Charlie looked disappointed before his eyes suddenly widened. “Wait a minute. Do you have a mission?”

Jack was startled that the boy had leaped to the correct conclusion. It’d been over two years since his last mission.

"Yeah, I do.” He braced himself for an argument or whining. To his surprised relief, there was only a sigh of resignation.

"It's okay, Dad. I understand.” Charlie was clearly disappointed but was making an effort to be mature. “I always figured you’d be going on more missions sooner or later.” His eyes turned to his brother. “Maybe after the assembly Daniel and I can talk to the coaches with Spencer and his dad. What do you say, Daniel?"

Daniel sat very still, his face turning a deep shade of pink, he looked as if he wanted to disappear. The poor kid. This wasn't his fault. Jack jumped in to save him.

"Charlie, Daniel's going with me." Crap, he hadn't meant to blurt it out. He had intended to take his time and explain it in a way that Charlie might be able to understand.

"On a mission?" Charlie's mouth dropped open and his eyes grew wide in disbelief. He turned to face Daniel. "That's why you didn't act excited about meeting with the coaches after assembly. Now I get it, everyone knew about this except me."

"It's not like that, son," Jack interrupted. "We weren't intentionally keeping it from you; I only found out today myself. We’ll just be gone a day or two, and then everything will be back to normal." If the Stargate worked, Jack was sure his world would never get back to normal but Charlie didn’t need to be burdened with that knowledge.

"It's fine, I don’t care. You guys just go on your stupid mission. I don't give a crap." Charlie dropped his fork on his plate, pushed his chair away from the table and disappeared in a huff. Within seconds Jack heard his son taking the stairs two at a time. A minute later the bedroom door slammed shut.

Normally, Jack would have chased after his son and demanded he get up and close the door like a normal human being but not tonight. It was hard to blame Charlie. How could a child understand what adults, including his wife, had difficulty grasping?

Jack looked around the table at his remaining family. So much for a peaceful family dinner. Sara was annoyed and Daniel looked as if he might cry.

"Don’t worry, I'll talk to him. Everything will be fine."

Sara raised a doubtful eyebrow and shot Jack an ‘I told you so’ look that bordered on sarcastic. He deserved it and at least she hadn't uttered the words out loud.

"Sorry," Daniel whispered.

"Sorry? For what?"

Daniel only shrugged and Jack decided he'd have to get back to the boy. He needed to talk to Charlie. Shit. And things had been going so well.

"Excuse me."

Jack stood up, paused behind Sara's chair to lean down and kiss her cheek, and then reached out to tousle Daniel's hair before heading upstairs to try to reason with his hurt and angry son. He was grateful for Sara's whispered 'good luck' as he trudged up to Charlie's room.

He knocked and opened the door without asking for permission to enter; he had no doubt Charlie was expecting a visit, the force of the door slam ensured that.

"Hey." Jack stood in the doorway and tried to get a read on his kid.

"I said I don't care, Dad. You don't have to talk to me. Just go."

Charlie was sitting in the middle of his bed with his legs crossed Indian style and his arms folded over his chest. His head was bowed and he looked miserable.

Jack crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "I know it's hard for you to understand and I know you wish you could come with us. I wish you could, too." That was a boldfaced lie. It would be difficult enough to do his duty while worrying about Daniel but the sentiment might make Charlie feel better.

"That's just not possible, son. You know that." Hell, it was still hard to believe Daniel was coming along for the ride.

"Is Daniel translating stuff for the mission?" Charlie still sounded irritated but he looked up for the first time so that was progress. Jack didn't have the heart to tell his son that information was classified. Besides, Charlie already knew that.

"Sort of. I know it's hard for you after everything you've been through. I hate to leave you right now..."

"Then don't, Dad," Charlie interrupted, his voice pleading. "Let someone else go this time. Just this one time. Please."

That was a surprise. Charlie had never asked him that and if it had been any other mission Jack would do just that. But it wasn't any other mission; it was the mission of a lifetime. Of a thousand lifetimes, not to mention Daniel was going so Jack had to go to make sure he stayed safe. Sitting this mission out was not an option.

He reached out and touched his son's cheek. "I can't, son. I would if I could but I can't. I have to go on this one. It has to be me.”

"What if I have more nightmares while you're gone?"

Charlie's voice lost its hard edge and he was looking down at his hands that were now clasped together in his lap. Jack knew how difficult it was for his brave son to make that request and he tried to come up with an acceptable response.

"Mom will be here for you. You know that. You'll be fine. I wouldn't leave if I didn't know you'd be okay."

"I know Mom will be here but it's not the same when I... it's just not the same. Please, Dad?"

"I’m sorry, buddy, but I can't." Geez, the kid wasn't making this easy.

"You don't want to. You could if you wanted to. You could just tell them no. Just say you don't want to go." Charlie was getting worked up again.

"It's my job..."

"Forget it,” Charlie snapped with an uncharacteristic scowl. “What do you care? You and Daniel will be doing all kinds of cool stuff. You won't even have time to think about me.”

Jack bit his tongue and felt surprisingly calm through Charlie's accusations, which actually made some sense. He decided to let the kid rant and get it out. Maybe a part of him deserved the tongue lashing.

"Why'd you even come for me when I was kidnapped? I was lucky you didn't have a mission then. I'd be dead by now."

Okay, that was over the line. "That's enough." Jack used his low, authoritative tone to let Charlie know he wasn't fooling around. No point in letting the boy say something they'd both regret.

"Why? It's true! You'd still have Daniel. You could just hang out with him like you do all the time anyway.” Angry tears welled in the familiar brown eyes.

"I know you're upset so I'm giving you some leeway here, but don't push me, Charlie, I mean it."

“You don’t – ”

"Stop. Right now.”

It surprised Jack that Charlie still held resentment against Daniel. The two boys appeared to be getting along so well, unless Charlie was just pushing his buttons and taking out his frustrations on the most convenient target.

His son responded to the sharp, no-nonsense 'that's enough, last warning' tone and looked up at him. The anger transformed back to resignation.

"Just go," Charlie repeated for the third or fourth time.

Jack squeezed his son’s shoulder. "We'll talk about this again when you calm down.” He stood to leave but only made it as far as the door.

"Dad, wait!" Charlie's eyes flashed with panic and Jack went to him and sat back down in the spot he'd just vacated.

"Are you going to Iraq ?" The color slowly drained from the small face.

With everything going on in the Middle East , that was Charlie's biggest fear. He had no idea his father had already been to Iraq and spent several months in an Iraqi prison.

Jack decided he could give his son that much. "I can't tell you where we're going, but I can tell you it's not Iraq ."

Charlie let out a sigh of relief. If he only knew.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise me you'll come home." The voice was small and timid and very un-Charlie-like.

All these years and his son had never asked that of him. Of course, up until recently, Charlie had been too young to understand what Jack really did so he’d had no reason to be worried.

Charlie couldn't possibly know how vastly different this mission was from the rest but the boy was two older now and understood a lot more. Add that to being kidnapped and his worry was understandable. The kidnapping must have rattled him into trying to extract that promise. Of course it did. How could it not?

"I'll do my best. I always do, you know that." Jack hoped the avoidance tactic would work.

"No, I want you to promise me you'll come home."

No such luck.

"Promise me, Dad." Charlie held his gaze and wouldn't be denied.

For a split second, Jack saw another youngster sitting in front of him, the teenage son of a lost teammate. The mission had taken place in Bosnia years ago but even now Jack suffered an occasional nightmare over it. John Creighton, a teammate and a close friend, had been shot and killed by a sniper. At the funeral, John's teenage son had been enraged. At his mother's request, Jack had tried to talk to the boy and explain what had happened and what a great guy his dad had been but the youngster would have no part of it. He was incensed that his dad had promised to come home and hadn't kept his word. He had lied. The kid considered it the ultimate betrayal and swore he'd never forgive his father.

Now, years later, Jack recognized the intense anger for the defense mechanism it had been to avoid the overwhelming grief. Charlie had been a baby back then and Jack had sworn never to make that promise, just in case.

Sitting on his son’s bed and remembering, Jack abruptly realized the Creighton kid would be an adult now. He should have kept in touch with the family. After the mission he'd talk to Kawalsky about tracking the kid down to tell him about his father. They both owed John that much.

This wasn’t the time to be distracted. Looking at his son, Jack saw the big brown eyes focused on him were huge and determined. Charlie had no intention of letting this go.

Screw it. He'd come home. He had to come home. Daniel would be with them. "Yeah, I promise."

"And Daniel, too." Charlie was staring directly into his eyes and Jack didn't flinch.

"Yeah, Daniel, too."

At the words, Charlie wrapped his arms around Jack's waist and hugged him hard. Jack hugged back, surprised by the intense show of affection. Then again, his son had been much more touchy feely since the kidnapping. Jack shivered at the thought and squeezed his boy tighter. He waited for Charlie to make the first move, pleased that when his son broke the embrace he didn't appear embarrassed for needing the closeness.

"So, are we okay?"

Charlie nodded and Jack decided that was as okay as they were going to be, at least for now.

"And Daniel?"

"I'm not mad at Daniel. I just wish I was going with you, too."

"I know." Jack gave his son another quick squeeze. "Come on. You can apologize to your mother and finish eating dinner."

"Okay," Charlie agreed, grabbing the offered hand and letting Jack pull him up off the bed.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Jack paused. "So this Kelly girl in Health class... I don't get it. Whole meatballs?"

"Yep, honest. They didn't look chewed to me, Dad.”

On to part 3

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