Undercurrents: Broken Things

(Cold Lazarus)

Amidst the bright yellow sands, the alien turned to him, uncannily adult in the body of a child. In the body of Jack's child.

"Colonel," it said in Charlie's strong sweet voice. "I am sorry I could not heal you."

There was no mistaking the distress on the childish face. If this one was an indication of their whole race, they were very empathetic.

With his own meagre empathy, Jack tried to ease its concerns a little. Crouching down beside it, he met its gaze and tried not to shirk back from it. So much like Charlie...and yet the eyes weren't those of a child. The eyes betrayed that the being which had taken on Charlie's form had seen terrible things. Things even more terrible than Jack had seen.

But the alien possessed something Jack had lost years ago. Something very fragile and yet incredibly powerful.

It possessed belief.

Belief that things could be made right. That all things that hurt could be fixed. That it could heal what it had wounded.

Jack stared into the not-eyes of his son and couldn't think of what to say. Then he heard himself speaking, almost as if it was someone else talking. "Some things...can't be fixed."

It looked at him for a long moment, then nodded - but not the enthusiastic nod of a child, the sober acceptance of someone much more mature.

"Some things cannot be fixed, Colonel. But sometimes they can be mended."

And the truth of that struck Jack like a blow to the belly, winding him.

There were many things in his life that would never be fixed - the memories of Iraq, his relationship with Sara, his guilt over Charlie's death, and the pain of losing his son.

But maybe some of those broken edges could be mended a little.

Maybe.

It watched the expressions flit across his face. Piercing comprehension from a face that Jack remembered in a variety of emotions and moods, but never this kind of watchful understanding.

Then Jack looked around at the sands of the planet with the shattered blue crystals lying around them. There were some things that could be neither fixed nor mended. Jack still had threads of his life with which to work, the alien had...nothing.

Nothing but the broken bodies of its people and the endless stretches of sand.

The alien nodded and reached out to him.

It hugged him. Like Charlie.

Achingly like Charlie.

Jack had forgotten what it was like to hug a child - to hold the trust of one so young in the circle of his arms and know that they were fragile but faithful.

Now he remembered.

Tiny, slender arms encircled his neck and the softness of a childish cheek was laid against the side of his throat.

It wasn't Charlie. Jack knew that.

But it reminded him of all that he'd lost.

And all that he'd had.

A son who'd adored him, who'd giggled as his father played 'airplanes' with him, 'soaring' him high up in the air. A son who'd asked questions until Jack didn't know what to do with him, who'd loved baseball and hockey. A son who'd jumped on the couches and climbed the trees, who'd played with plastic waterguns in spite of his father's anger. A son who'd taken a real gun and ended his life with it.

He didn't cry against the creature's shoulder - crying wasn't his 'thing', but he knelt there and felt the grief weigh him down - so powerful that he couldn't speak.

Time passed, flowing around him and the alien like the wind. And, slowly, the grief ebbed from him, enabling him to let go of the creature.

And as 'Charlie' raised its head from Jack's shoulder, the ageless eyes looked deeply into his and it nodded once, and stepped away without a further word.

Jack watched it make its way through the blinding sands, remaining by the DHD until it had vanished amidst the sand-dunes - whether to forever wander the planet alone, or just to die, Jack didn't know.

It would be a terrible way to live, though.

Jack knew that from experience.

And with a start, he realised that the alien had given him another chance at life.

Healing.

Just a little - not enough to eliminate the scars from what had happened with Charlie, but enough to keep going. Enough to move on as he hadn't quite yet done.

His old life couldn't be reclaimed. His time as Sara's husband and Charlie's father was over and gone. Maybe there were still a few things to say, but there was a certain relief in no longer having to hide what he did from someone close to him - a certain freedom in not having to deal in the everyday lies anymore.

Jack never wanted to deal in those kind of lies again. Not even to have Sara back.

He would have to think of something to tell her - just the once.

But not every day.

Never again every day.

Seeing Sara again - seeing Charlie, even - had brought up old memories, old hurts, old regrets. Some he wasn't quite ready to face, and some he'd had to move beyond; and some he still needed to move beyond. It would take time and a purpose.

He had the time, now. He had the rest of his life, however long it might last. His reprieve from death on Abydos had been for more than just retirement, although Jack hadn't known that at the time. His life had been looking for a purpose, and he'd found it in the fight against the Goa'uld.

It was a fight worth fighting - more so than disputes over oil and land and the rightness and wrongness of international politics. A cause to which he could add his name and his passion.

And he had people with which to share that time and purpose as he never before. Over the years his teams had been formed of those whose skills were needed on each particular mission. As the men came and went, Jack made friends of a sort, but their private lives were opaque to his knowledge as was his to theirs.

Now, his team were loners - or at least alone in the world. If they had family, it was estranged; if friends, they were distant. All they had close to them was their work and the forces which had led them to the SGC - and into Jack's team.

Maybe into his life, too.

After this, they all knew this chapter in his history. They knew what had happened...and it was something of a relief; he hadn't told them and they hadn't been prying, but they'd found out. Oh, Daniel already knew, but neither Captain Carter nor Teal'c had known about Charlie.

They did now.

They were waiting for him to come home.

Jack turned on his heel and made his way towards the Stargate, kicking up clouds of yellow dust and stepping carefully amidst the cracked and splintered shards of the crystals around him.

Some things cannot be fixed, Colonel. But sometimes they can be mended.

The DHD was dialled home, the iris code sent through, and Jack walked through the wormhole to return to the SGC - and the people who'd become part of his life.

On the other side of the wormhole, his team were waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp.

Common sense told him they hadn't been standing there waiting for him to get back, but their immediate presence here meant more than they knew. Tentative smiles of welcome grew stronger as Jack let him self smile back and descended the ramp to them. "Miss me?"

He let himself relax a little in the warmth of their regard and their hesitantly-voiced concern, glad of their company and, yes, of their friendship, too. And as the Captain shot him a quick, brilliant smile at something amusing Daniel said, Jack felt the rush of truth to his soul.

He was still broken and would never truly be 'fixed'...

...but his mending had already begun.

*