Another tear fell silently, caressing her beautiful face. Even in despair she was loveliest thing he'd ever laid eyes on. She needed him. He wasn't there. Instead of holding her in his arms, he was here, watching her from behind glass. He was always watching her from behind glass. Maybe not always in a sense as literal as this moment, although there was that force shield one time, but from the first day he'd met her, that is exactly how he felt. He could see her. He could hear her. But no matter how much he wanted to, he could not touch her. In times when they needed each other the most, they would reach out for each other, desperately longing for the glass to break, but even now it remained.

When he had entered the observation room minutes earlier, he hadn't been sure what he had come to say. He only knew he wanted her to know he loved her. He wasn't quite sure how to tell her that, seeing as he couldn't say those words, but he'd hoped she would know, somehow. There were so many things he needed to tell her. So much that had gone unsaid for far too long.

Jack watched solemnly, as one of his dearest friends slipped away into the unknown, leaving behind his grieving child. Sam was alone now. No. She wasn't alone. She would never be alone. Not now, or as long as he was breathing. Not now, or ever again. It was in that moment, when she stood by herself, that Jack O'Neill vowed she would do so for the last time. Because he was about to blow that glass to hell.