Letters to Jack
Author: Badgergater
Email: [email protected]
Season: Pre-movie (Fall of 1990
Pairing: a married Jack/Sara
Category: Drama
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Category: Drama, POV
Summary: Sara refuses to let go of Jack when he disappears in Iraq.
Disclaimer: I know I don't own Stargate. I grovel before those who do.
Author’s note: In Cold Lazarus, Jack and Sara acknowledge that 'we were the greatest.' If you can't deal with that, you shouldn't read this fic…
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Two men came to my door today, and told me you were dead. They wouldn’t answer my questions, wouldn’t tell me how or why or where. They said you were killed, but there would be no body to bury.
I didn’t believe them.
I don’t believe them.
I can’t believe them.
Because if I did, I couldn’t go on.
I didn’t tell Charlie what they said. How could I break our little boy’s heart? He loves you so much.
I love you so much.
Hope is all I have.
Oh God, Jack, I miss you. I need you.
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Frank was here today.
He told me you were dead.
I didn’t want to believe him, but he looked so awful, so devastated. Over and over he apologized for leaving you behind. But at least he told me the truth that no one else would tell me, what he saw that day, that you were hit and went down, and that he couldn’t even go back for your body.
I cried on his shoulder.
I can’t imagine you dead.
I know you always told me this could happen. You promised me that, if it happened, your last thoughts would be of me and Charlie, and that we should go on and be happy, because, to be at peace, you needed to know that we were okay.
I can’t believe you’re dead.
I can’t.
I won’t let myself.
I can’t let myself think of your body lying out there somewhere. I remember the news footage of what happened to those soldiers in Mogadishu, their bodies defiled, dragged through the streets, spit upon. I know, you told me I shouldn’t watch stuff like that, but I couldn’t help myself.
And now, I keep seeing those images in my head.
I keep telling myself it’s not true.
It can’t be true.
It can’t.
I’d know if you were gone, because the world would be a darker, emptier place.
I can’t believe that all the energy that is you, all the strength, could be just … gone.
I need that strength, Jack, because I can’t go on without it. Without you.
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Do you know I sleep with one of your shirts tucked beneath my pillow? It’s what I’ve always done when you’re away from home. It carries your scent, and in that one, blissful moment between sleep and awakening, I can almost believe you are there beside me, in our bed.
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To tell you the truth, I don’t actually sleep at night.
All day, I hide my fears from Charlie, because he’s just a little boy. The need to take care of him is all that keeps me going.
But at night, alone in our bed, missing you more than words can ever say, the fears come alive. The doubts. I lie awake, thinking up scenarios where Frank could have been wrong, ways you could still be alive.
Like the other time, when you had the parachute accident and you were given up for dead.
You told me then you were like a cat, with nine lives. Well, you still have lots of lives to live, then.
I know you’re out there, somewhere.
I can’t believe you’re dead.
I can’t.
I won’t let myself.
Hope keeps me going.
Until the day you come home.
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I was right. I was right. I was right.
Oh my God, Jack, I was right.
Those men came back to my door today. I saw the car pull up and they got out and came up the walk, and I wanted to lock the door and hide. My heart turned into stone and my hands were shaking because I was so afraid they were going to tell me they’d found your body and then I couldn’t hope any longer, and hope is all I’ve had for these long, endless days.
They couldn’t tell me how they knew you were alive, but they knew.
Frank came over, and he told me he would do everything he could to bring you home.
I’m so scared.
More scared now than I was before.
You’re alive, and they didn’t have to tell me, but I know you were hurt.
And you’re a prisoner of people who hate us.
I remember those men who were held prisoner in Vietnam, the stories they told of beatings and mistreatment.
No matter what they do to you, Jack, hold on.
No matter what they do to you, Jack, I can handle it.
As long as you come back to us.
Don’t give up, Jack.
Charlie needs you.
I need you.
Come back to us.
Hold on until Frank gets there.
We’ll be waiting.
Forever, if we have to.
We’ll survive, if you do.
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We missed you today.
Charlie got his first report card. He got a satisfactory in every subject, so I guess he takes after me. Then again, his teacher did say he was fidgety, so he does take after you, too.
He misses you so much.
We talk about you every day, and then he asks me if today is the day you’re coming home, and I tell him, I don’t know, but I hope so.
It’s harder than waiting for Christmas.
We missed you today.
Charlie started hockey practice. All the kids asked where you were, because they wanted Coach Jack back.
We all want you back.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been gone from our lives for months, but this is the hardest, because I know, this time, you’re alone. I try not to imagine what it’s like, how scared you must be, how they might have hurt you, might still be hurting you. I know you’re strong, but I also know there’s a little boy behind all that bravado.
Hold on to that little boy inside you, protect him, because he’s so much a part of you.
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We missed you today.
It was an ordinary day. The sun rose, the birds sang, the trees waved in the breeze. Life goes on, but without you, there is no warmth in the sunshine, no melody to the songs, no magic in nature. Nothing is right. Our world is shadowed, skewed out of shape, missing something subtle but vital. I watch the rest of the world go on as if nothing was wrong, and I want to scream and shout and shake them and tell them we have to find a way to bring you home.
But I sit silent, and encourage our son and lock my fears deep inside.
Come home to us, Jack.
We missed you today.
We had Christmas without you.
It wasn’t the same, but I couldn’t deny Charlie.
Though I tried my best to make the day special, he was so sad, because all he wanted for Christmas was for his Daddy to be home.
I kept telling him not to count on it, that you would be home if you could, but you were a long ways away.
He’s a little boy, and he needs his daddy and he misses you.
Your presents are here, under the tree, the one I picked out, the one Charlie picked out.
We wrapped them, and talked about you, and how you would be home soon and open them and smile, and our world would be right again.
Hold on Jack, Come home to us.
We missed you today.
Do you know what day it is?
A new year started, and all I can do is pray it will be better than the old one. I even watched the football games so I could tell you all about them when you get home.
I went outside last night at midnight and looked up at the stars, and hoped you were looking up at them, too. It’s all I can share with you, my hope.
Hold on Jack. Come home to us.
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We missed you today.
The news on TV said the war started.
They’re wrong.
The war started long ago, on the dark day they took you away.
I watched the generals with all their fancy medals neatly pinned to their clean uniforms, looking well fed and clean shaven. I can only hope you have food and decent clothes and a place to sleep. I can only hope that you are free from pain.
But I have the bad feeling it’s a vain hope.
Remember, I’ll never give up on you.
Hold on Jack. Come home to us.
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We missed you today.
Charlie was sad all day and finally he asked me to help him write a letter to God.
Dear God, Please send my Daddy home. I miss him. Mommy misses him. He’s been gone too long and we’re sad without him. We need Daddy home to make us happy again. I promise to clean my room and listen to the teacher and never fight with Josh again, if only you’ll send my Daddy home.
Our little boy needs you so much. I try, but there are just so many things I can’t do for him or tell him or share with him.
Hold on Jack. Come home to us.
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We missed you today.
I missed you today.
It was my birthday, and for the first time since we met, there were no roses.
I cried until I had no more tears left to cry. Not for the missing roses, but for you. For Charlie. For me. For all that we’re missing.
Dad came and took me out to dinner, but I couldn’t eat, because I kept wondering what you have to eat tonight, *if* you have something to eat tonight.
Jack, I need you.
I keep telling myself that what Charlie and I are going through isn’t a tenth, a hundredth, one millionth of the horror you must be going through.
If it gets too awful, too much for even your brave heart to bear, it’s okay if you let go. I’ll understand, and forgive.
I’ll mourn you forever. You know that?
If there’s any way you can, hold on Jack. Come home to us.
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You’re coming home!
Frank called and said they’d found you, or, you’d found your way to our lines.
His voice sounded funny, as if maybe he’d been crying, but I can’t imagine Frank crying.
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What have they done to you?
They warned me you wouldn’t be the same, that it would take a long time for the wounds to heal, especially the ones we couldn’t see.
Oh Jack, I can see the hurt in your eyes, the wariness, the pain, the darkness.
I throw my arms around you and you stand there, unresponsive, so deep inside yourself you can’t reach out to me.
Let me help you. Let me in. Please.
I will still love you, no matter what they did to you, no matter what they forced you to do, no matter how deep and terrible the scars. They don’t matter, you do.
I know you’re in there, inside that silent wary shell.
Step out of the dark.
I’ve waited so long.
I can wait longer.
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You scared me tonight.
Knowing that there is something in the world that can make you, the strongest man I know, whimper in your nightmares, terrifies me. The pleading in your voice tears me apart. The pain and fear in your eyes takes my breath away. I want to help, but I don’t know how. Tell me how to help you. Tell me how to drive those dark memories away.
Let me help you slay your demons.
Let me help you find your way back.
Charlie needs you.
I need you.
We love you.
I love you.
Always.
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Come back to us, Jack.
We need you, Charlie and me.
Today, Charlie asked me to help him write another letter to God. He wants his ‘real’ Daddy back, the one who laughs and throws him into the air and wrestles on the living room floor and plays baseball and tells silly jokes.
I want him back, too.
Please Jack, don’t give up. Don’t let them win. Don’t let what they did to you mean more than what we mean to you.
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A miracle happened.
You came home today.
You reached out to us, climbing out of your dark prison of despair and back into your life and our lives. I don't know how you did it, I don't know how much it cost you, I am only grateful that you are here with us at last.
I see the spark back in your eyes. They’re not the same as they once were, I know that the horrors you went through won’t ever go away, but you’ve finally been able to put them behind you.
You are really, truly home, the real you returned to us at last.
It’s been a long and dark road.
Once, I feared it was endless, and you were lost to us forever.
Today, you stepped out of the dark and let the light back into your life, into all our lives.
You prevailed.
I know you paid a terrible price, and I know you will never reveal that price to me, because you think that it is something you have to protect me from.
That’s okay, because you’re back. Today you’re once again Charlie’s Daddy and Sara’s husband.
You won.
We won.
We’re a family again.
You came home.
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