Chapter Text
The early morning sunlight did little to cut through the chill as Charlie O’Neill slipped silently through the deserted streets of Colorado Spring. A shiver, unrelated to the cold, raced down his back as he passed a park, this time of year it should have been bustling between the early morning farmer’s market, the afternoon concert series and parents eager to get their kids out of the house, but today it was empty - just like the rest of the city and every other town they’d passed through on their way home from the cabin two weeks earlier.
They had taken a family trip up to the cabin so his step-mother, Sam, could rest and recoup from a rough mission - according to his dad it was the only way to guarantee that she didn’t try to do any work - and would have still been there, blissfully unaware that anything was wrong had she not gotten worse. He’d teased her about being pregnant again, though watching her symptoms progress he knew that wasn’t what was wrong. Her cough had become progressively worse over the last week prompting today’s sunrise excursion.
Glancing at the orange clouds overhead Charlie shivered. If he had to guess it was around thirty degrees outside, not the coldest he’d ever experienced, but Colorado Springs was rarely below seventy degrees in July. He’d heard his parents talking as they drove through Nebraska, something about the smoke and ash from some global cataclysm causing something similar to a nuclear winter, possibly even a minor ice age. It would be rough for a while, but he had no doubt that their family would survive - they were O’Neill’s after all.
It had been a hard decision to make - leaving without saying anything - but Sam seemed to be sleeping peacefully for once and needed all the sleep she could get so he hated to wake her. With any luck, he should get back home before Debbie and Jake woke. If not, Sam would read him the riot act for sure, but with his father missing he had a responsibility to look after the rest of the family.
Several miles away from their bunker the Super Center stood miraculously untouched, with the exception of the glass having been broken out of every window. That was just fine with Charlie, it saved him from having to break it himself. Like everywhere else they had seen since leaving the cabin in Minnesota, there was no one in the store and there was no sign of any looting. They had yet to figure out where everyone had gone - no bodies had been found yet nor any survivors - and why the five O’Neill’s seemed to have been spared the same fate.
Shaking off the troubling thoughts, Charlie quickly grabbed a cart and headed to the grocery aisles. Before long he had a half dozen carts filled with supplies waiting in front of the store. He wished he had brought the truck, but his dad had taken it when he went out scouting three days ago - he should have been back by now.
At the back of the store he found the break room. Several lockers were opened, as if their owners had been in the process of retrieving their things. A quick search turned up four sets of keys. Taking them all he stepped out into the early morning light. One set of keys turned out to be a minivan which he quickly drove to the front of the store and loaded with cases of water, canned food, diapers and a myriad of other things he felt they needed. He’d even found the walk-ins in the back still functional and grabbed several packs of meat, he wouldn’t even complain when his dad charred it.
With everything loaded he had just one more stop. The pharmacy was unlocked, another testament that whatever happened had been instantaneous. The classes and discussion with Aunt Janet were finally paying off, he knew exactly which drugs would be the most useful, and which ones would hopefully help Sam. Her symptoms matched exactly what he’d seen when Cassie had had pneumonia the year before which worried Charlie the longer they went without finding any survivors. He worked quickly to fill his pilfered backpack with all of the meds he hoped would help, as well as a few he thought would be good to have on hand.
Once back at the bunker Charlie shoved a few items in the bag with the meds before slipping through the door as quietly as he could.
"Charlie!" Sam threw her arms around him as soon as he stepped through the door. "Where have you been?"
"I went for supplies." He dumped his backpack on the table, handing her a Canister of formula and a pack of bottles. "We were running low on just about everything, and you said your supply was drying up, so I knew Jake would be needing formula soon… there's more outside…"
Sam stared at the supplies he pulled from his bag. Medications, bandages, soap, blank notebooks, small toys and a yo-yo - for his dad no doubt. She was still wrapping her fevered mind around what lay on the table when Charlie returned with cases of water.
"Where did you get all this?" She asked when he closed the door after his last trip.
"The Super Center." He busied himself setting up their makeshift stove, little more than a Bunsen burner but it would heat the water quickly.
" Charlie…" She started.
"I know, Sam,” he cut her off, “but the store has been untouched since whatever happened happened.” He refused to meet her gaze as he measured out the formula powder.
"So you decided you would help yourself?" Coughs wracked her body, leaving her gasping for breath.
"We need the food, and the water." Charlie spoke softly, gently guiding her to a chair. "And you need antibiotics… don't try denying it, your cough is getting worse, it has been since we left the cabin."
Sam stared into determined brown eyes that were so like his fathers. Charlie was no longer the little boy she’d first met. When he become a man? A man so much like his father that Jack needn’t have told Charlie to take care of her, he would have no matter what. Jack had left their haven three days ago to search for answers and she was starting to fear he'd never return. Waking to find Charlie gone had sent her into a panic. She didn't Know what she'd do if she lost both O'Neill men.
"I…it's fine, I was just worried when you were gone." She didn’t want to let him know how great her fear had been.
"He's coming back, Sam." Charlie took something from his pocket, dumping the contents into the water that remained after he’d mixed the formula. "Not even death would keep Jack O'Neill from Samantha Carter."
His crooked O'Neill grin was contagious. "I know, but it's been three days, I can't help but worry." Another coughing fit left her doubled over and out of breath.
“Here, drink this?” He pressed a warm mug into her hand.
“What is it?” She eyed the sweet smelling liquid.
“Jello.” Charlie shrugged. “Whenever I was sick, especially if I had a sore throat or cough, my mom would make me Jello to drink, not sure if it really helps but it always made me feel better.”
She took a tentative sip, closing her eyes as the sweet, warm liquid coated her throat. “Blue?”
The lopsided grin was back. “Dad said it was your favorite.”
Silence fell as Sam drank her jello and Charlie worked over the Bunsen burner stove. From the next room they could hear Jake babbling, awake but not yet demanding attention. Soon, Debbie would toddle in looking for someone to take her to the bathroom. As if summed, a mop of blond curls tumbled through the door.
“I got her, Sam.” Charlie scooped up the little girl.
Sam watched the two duck out of the bunker door towards the neighbor’s house where a camper still stood intact, a small blessing meaning they wouldn’t have to dig a latrine - yet. She couldn’t imagine these past few weeks without Charlie. He had been skeptical of becoming a big brother at seventeen, but from the moment he first held his little sister he was wrapped around her finger, something he and Jack both attributed to her being a Carter.
When they returned, Debbie was clinging to Charlie's back giggling as he galloped their the door. Setting her back on the ground, he ushered her back through the curtained doorway. As Charlie returned to Sam’s side they could hear Debbie talking softly to a fussy Jake calming him almost instantly.
"Jake started fussing. I…I just didn't have the energy to go to him.". Sam sighed, hating to admit weakness.
"I'll get him, but first let's get you back in bed." Charlie wrapped an arm around her shoulders, helping her to the bed in the corner. "I got you amoxicillin and a z pack, that's what Aunt Janet gave Cass when she had pneumonia last year." Charlie watched as she swallowed the pills then handed a dosing cup of cough syrup. "This is the good stuff, it will keep you from coughing and knock you out so you finally get some sleep."
Helping Sam lay down, Charlie pulled the sheets up to her chin letting his hand brush over her forehead. He chuckled to himself as he sat carefully on the edge of the bed, watching as she slowly drifted into a drug induced sleep. The situation felt much like the first time she’d taken care of him when he had been sick, only now their roles were reversed.
He couldn’t remember where his mom, Sara, had been, only that she was out of town for several weeks and he was supposed to be staying with his father, only something had happened over the three months he had been MIA, something that caused a major shift in his personality. At first he hadn’t been much of a fan of Sam’s, Charlie had always hoped his parents would reconcile and get back together, but the things his father had said to her when she came to check on him - no one should ever say things like that about anyone, much less someone they considered a friend. It was the first time he’d yelled at his father, also the first time he’d run away from home.
In reality he wasn’t really running away, he knew exactly where he was going, for whatever reason he felt it was imperative that he make sure Sam was okay. She’d been more than a little surprised when she found him at her door. After a terse phone call, Sam showed him where the guest room was and told him he was welcome to stay with her as long as he wanted.
It had been sometime that first night that he’d woken up shaking, unable to get warm, and the dizziness when he got up to find more blankets nearly knocked him to the ground. He had barely made it to the bathroom before the nausea won and left him heaving over the toilet. That night was a bit of a blur, but at some point Sam found him on the floor of the bathroom. She had helped him stand to rinse his mouth, the gently led him back to bed. The only thing he really remember, other than feeling like crap, was her cool hand on his forehead, long fingers running through his hair and she hummed softly the same tune he found himself humming now.
At the time he refused to admit it to himself, but even at fourteen he had realized that Sam Carter was exactly what was missing from not only his father’s life, but from his as well. They had forged a bond, nearly as strong as his bond with his mother, over the next several weeks something he would forever be grateful for.
Hearing Jake’s cries become louder again, Charlie grabbed the bottle he’d left to cool and set about getting the two littles ready for the day.