The Stargate shut down behind him with a quiet snap, the glow of the few lights in the control room the only illumination visible once the wavering light of the event horizon winked out. The couple of techs on the graveyard shift gave him a brief, acknowledging salute, which he returned, hopeful he wouldn't have to speak to anyone from here to the sign-out desk. He felt cloistered in his own body, his own mind, his chest tightening with an ever-growing knot, his throat closing over so he had to breathe carefully through his mouth to keep any sound from escaping. Jack stepped purposefully down the ramp, and nearly tripped over a huddled form seated on the bottom of it. 'What the...?'

Daniel Jackson nearly jumped a mile when Jack�s boot impacted what the colonel assumed was the younger man�s lumbar area, shooting to his feet and blinking myopically at Jack before he seemed to remember where he'd placed his glasses, and slid them off the top of his head to peer through them appraisingly. "Hey," he said needlessly.

Jack gave him a quick nod, unable to voice it, but oddly grateful that his friend had stuck around, 'kept the lights on' to wait. "Going home?" Daniel asked. "I can give you a ride," he continued, following Jack out of the 'gate room. "I mean, I don't mean to presume...I just--you know, you might not want to drive; it's been a rough couple of days, and--"

"Sure," Jack finally managed. "Thanks."

Daniel blinked as though he hadn't expected Jack to take him up on the offer, but nodded eagerly. "Sure. No problem." Jack felt a flutter of amusement--he often made fun of Daniel�s recent vehicular acquisition; an old jalopy of a car--his 'fifty-dollar car' the Jack called it. Why would he, Jack always complained, buy such a piece of crap to drive when Daniel could afford about a million of them�cars whose transmission didn�t need checking nearly everyday? Daniel was proud of the car, though; one of the first things back on Earth that was his and his alone�and tonight, Jack wasn�t in much of a mood for the usual, familiar banter and jokes between them, and he preceded Daniel out of the �gateroom without another word.

=====

Jack could tell Daniel was worried; the younger man wouldn't ask, but Jack knew he was bursting to ask what had happened when Jack had taken 'Charlie' through the 'gate. The two of them were on the fast track to becoming close friends, but there were still lines between them the other knew neither were comfortable with crossing quite yet. So Jack settled for staring out the passenger side window as the stars in the clear sky passed overhead, conscious of Daniel's constant concerned glances his way, but unwilling to look over and actually face them.

Daniel had just made a turn from the end of the mountain road and was heading down toward Jack's part of the city, when the claustrophobic tightness returned. Jack breathed carefully, and tried to sound as casual as possible as he glanced over at Daniel and blurted, "Here's fine. I'll walk from�from here."

Daniel stared back at him like he had three heads. "Jack, it's still nearly a half hour to your house," he pointed out. "You can't just walk from here; I'm going by there anyway, I'll take you--"

"Daniel..." Jack stared at him beseechingly, and Daniel finally pulled over with a sigh. "It's late, and I need to clear my head," Jack explained. "Just go home; get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Daniel asked, leaning over the seats to look up at Jack through the passenger window when he got out and shut the door.

Jack nodded firmly. "Positive."

"All right. Be careful." Jack smiled slightly; Daniel was just as much of a mother hen as he was. "See you tomorrow."

"See ya."

=====

His destination wasn�t too much further from where Daniel had pulled over, and Jack made his way up to the grave of his only son to sit heavily beside the headstone, reading the inscription over and over again without even registering the words. "Hey sport," he said softly. "Sorry it's been so long. I...well, I guess I can't say I've been too busy, can I? That was never an excuse; both of us know that. Your mom certainly never took that as an excuse."

That tightness in his chest was back again and the burning in the backs of his eyes pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Jack dragged in a deep, ragged breath and let it out slowly, giving a little, surreptitious cough to clear the lump from his throat. This was how it always was. Sara had always berated him for being too proud to show whatever he was feeling, but he wasn't, not really. He did it differently; he didn't do the wracking, desperate sobs, endless tears, jags that left people exhausted and spent. In those endless days after Charlie's death, through his funeral and afterward, during those frustrated and angry fights that would ensue between them over the most trivial things as they skirted the real issue, that was always the thing that Sara came back to--his 'bravado' that wouldn't allow him to grieve properly for his son or to share that grief with her. Jack squeezed his eyes shut remembering the way her sobs had echoed through the house; she'd locked herself in their bedroom for hours on end, not coming out until her father showed up to cajole her into eating something, to getting some air. She released most of her tension through those sobs, sounds that still resounded in Jack's head, quieted only slightly by the run-in he'd had with his ex-wife at the hospital and they�d had their first civil, public meeting in nearly two years.

He'd tried explaining it to her during those arguments, that his way was no less cathartic when they came around, no less of a release for the pent-up frustrations and grief that hounded him, and, to her credit, Sara had tried to understand, but when it came down to it, it frustrated her to no end.

Jack didn�t realize he�d been speaking to Charlie the entire time he�d been sitting there, and he suddenly became aware of another presence in the graveyard. "Didn't I tell you to go home?" he asked through the lump in his throat that eased further when Daniel stepped up awkwardly beside him.

"I, uh...I did," the younger man admitted. "I called you a little while ago, but you weren't home, and...I got...well, I was concerned that...I thought you�d be heading here, so I just...drove..."

"Shut up, Daniel," Jack said wearily, fondly. He gestured to the headstone sitting silently. "You've met Charlie...well, kind of."

"Yyyeah," Daniel said softly, easing himself into a crouch beside Jack, giving his friend a sidelong look. "Cute kid," he said. "Must get it from his mother."

Surprised, Jack looked at him sharply and Daniel looked ready to recoil, immediately stammering out an apology. Jack though, couldn't control the smile that tugged the corner of his mouth. "Forget it," he said. "You're right; he got just about everything from Sara�had my smart mouth, though," he admitted with a slightly larger grin.

"He had your eyes," Daniel commented, and then blushed. "Not that...you know, when we were in the hospital; I could see...I could tell he'd be your son. You know?"

"Yeah."

"Your--um, Mrs...Ms...Sara," Daniel finally settled on what to call her. "Sara seemed like a great woman."

"She was--is," Jack said strongly. He laughed wryly. "I'm sure that crystal...me was more scared than she was; she was more interested in finding out what the hell was wrong with it than running away from it. Not much can faze her. It takes something...huge." The vice-like grip on his chest tightened, forcing Jack to stand abruptly. Daniel watched him with wide, concerned eyes, but didn't say a word, for which Jack was grateful. The burning moved up and spread out, across his chest, down his arms, into his throat and behind his eyes and the bridge of his nose, giving him that odd sensation that he had to sneeze. He cleared his throat, took the deep, rough breaths as the grief rushed over him, staring at his clenched hands, daring them to take him that one step further in the grieving process. After long minutes the fist around his chest loosened its hold, finally releasing him. Jack took some steadying breaths and felt that clear-headed drain he always did, and then a hesitant hand touched his shoulder. "Jack? You all right?"

Jack turned, offered Daniel a small, embarrassed smile. "Yeah. I am now. It's--that was..." He shook his head. "I can't think about Charlie or come here and�you know; grieve."

Daniel looked at him strangely. "You just did," he said slowly, as though he thought Jack might be pulling his leg, being intentionally ignorant. "People grieve in different ways. I used to scream," he elaborated when Jack just continued to stare at him blankly. Jack cocked his head questioningly and his friend laughed softly. "After...well. I spent a lot of time in foster homes, some of which were headed by people who got a little unnerved if the kids woke up crying or broke down in the middle of the day for what seemed like no reason. I never could cry for them�my parents. More often than not, when things got to be too much, when it all just built up inside and I couldn�t take it, I would find a nice secluded spot or stuff a pillow to my face and just...scream."

Jack felt the guilty knot in his stomach disintegrate at Daniel�s revelation, but Daniel seemed to take his realization for something else and he shrugged defensively. �I was only eight,� he mumbled.

Jack held up a hand. �No; no, it�s not that. It�s just, I didn�t�really? You really did that?� he asked.

Daniel nodded. "Yeah; the therapists and psychiatrists thought it was unhealthy, that I didn't deal with my grief �properly�...but I did. Not in any conventional way, but..." he paused. "When it happened, I couldn't...I couldn't make a sound," he said, changing course in an attempt to explain. "When I screamed, I guess it was my way of doing what I wished I'd been able to do in the first place." Daniel met Jack�s eyes sadly. �I used to think I was sick, for not being able to be �normal�."

Jack nodded in agreement, already feeling lighter. �That always happens to me,� he said, referring to his little earlier spell. �Everything just sort of seizes up; I feel like I should be crying, but I don�t.�

�But you feel better after it happens?� Daniel surmised.

�Yeah,� Jack said wonderingly. He felt enlightened, and Daniel could see it, because the younger man grinned.

�Geez Jack, you could�ve just spoken to someone, you know,� he said.

�I thought I was,� Jack said, unable to refrain from making the remark.

Daniel shook his head in amusement. �All I�m saying is that I know what it�s like to hold something like that back,� he said seriously, �and if you ever need to�you know, talk or�or something��

Jack clapped him on the shoulder gratefully. �Thanks.� He looked down at Charlie�s grave�the real Charlie, not some alien shape-shifting entity that just looked like Charlie�and smiled slightly. �Come on,� he said to Daniel. �Let�s go�I�m sure you�re dying to know what happened with the crystal things when I went back.�

Daniel beamed. �Actually�now that you mention it��

�Right. Info comes at a price, though.�

Daniel trailed him a few paces back; Jack could feel the wary gaze on the back of his head. �What�s that?� the archaeologist drawled.

�You pay for the beer.�

Daniel sighed. �As always.�

=====

The End