Disclaimer: I don't own these fine people - if I did I wouldn't have killed Janet! This is my first fan fic so if you really want to review please be kind! Also any mistakes are mine.

It's dark outside. I can just see the sliver of moonlight on the garden as I look at nothing. It's dark in here too. The television makes blue colours dance across the walls, but I have no idea what's going on. The sound is right down. It's quiet in here too.

Maybe that's a good thing – maybe not.

I can hear my own ragged breathing as another tissue is consigned to the pile that grew too big for the small bin in the corner of the room about half an hour ago. I can also hear the cars in the street outside and I'll know when one stops outside – if it stops outside.

I don't know how to do this. I feel that with every passing second I'm turning into my father, but I don't know how to stop it. Is this what he went through? So consumed by his own guilt and grief that he couldn't face the people who reminded him so clearly of my mom? How do I face her, assuming she comes home tonight? God, is this what I put him through? The worrying about where I was, who I was with, what I was doing, just when he didn't need it?

Trouble is I know what will happen next and that I'll spend the next 20 years hoping for a Christmas card and refusing invitations from the guys in case Cassie's there.

I told them she was a tough kid. I told them she'd survive. I'm not so sure. How do I know when she's barely speaking to me?

I don't know what to do next.

I need your help.

You're the only one who could have helped, who would have known what to say, told me what to do.

You're the one person I can no longer ask.

Before I know what I'm doing the plate and uneaten sandwiches have hit the wall opposite me and crashed to the floor.

The sound surprises me, but I don't have the energy to move and clean it up.

My tough little exterior has shattered and I feel so vulnerable that it scares me. I have shouted and screamed and cried so much over the past few days that I don't know what to do next. So I stay sitting here hoping that the door will eventually open and my guilt and grief will leave for the briefest of moments while I make sure everything is, if not alright, at least passable for now.

The guilt and the grief have waged war with each other for days.

How can I not feel guilty?

I know that there was no way I could have been there, but I feel that I should have been able to protect her. She was doing her job, she loved it, but it was not how she wanted to die. I feel guilty that Daniel had to witness it instead of me, and then I feel guilty because I'm glad it was Daniel and not I. I feel guilty that the vest insert worked for him and not for her. I feel guilty that I was so consumed with his injuries that I called for her and was angry when she didn't respond. I feel guilty that I was angry with her. I feel guilty because I never had chance to say goodbye. I feel guilty that I don't know what to say at her memorial. She was my best friend and nothing seems good enough for her. I feel guilty that I don't know what to do with Cassie. I should be able to empathise with her, but I can't. I'm so consumed with my own feelings that part of me feels that I can't deal with hers as well.

Then there's the grief.

I know that I've lost people before, but this is different in so many ways. It's different because it's her. It's different because…it's her. That's all there is to it. Part of me, some lost Neanderthal gene thinks that she shouldn't have been there in the first place. The truth is if she hadn't been, then there'd be a child who would never have had the chance to know their father. The real problem is that I let her get close. For the first time in a long time I let someone get close. I let them all get close, but her especially. We just clicked, and now she's gone and I have no idea what to do next.

I hate her. No, that's not true; I hate them both! I'm not sure whom I hate more, Sam or mom. Sam for not dying and for being here; mom for dying and not being here.

I don't know how to deal with any of this. I've lost my mom twice; how am I supposed to cope? I don't know what to say to Sam. She's not helping, she's pushing me away when I need her the most and I don't know why.

That's why I'm here. If anyone can help me it's him. He was there at the beginning and he's here now. Swallowing hard I knock on the door. What if he's not here? What if he doesn't want to speak to me? What if he pushes me away like Sam?

The door opens and all my fears are, for a time, pushed to the back of my mind.

I've never been in his room before. The furniture is practically non-existent. I think he's got most of the world's candles in here though. He gestures to the floor and I sink down gratefully. I know he won't speak, so I mirror his cross-legged position and wait for the words to come to me.

"I…I miss her. I really miss her. When I get up, she's not there and the pain starts all over again. My friend said that the pain will get less as the weeks go on but it won't go away. I don't believe her. Sam hates me, did you know that?" An eyebrow raises but he stays quiet, allowing me to continue. "Every time I open the door she turns and I see the disappointment on my face because I'm me and not my mom. When I try and talk to her it's like she pushes me away. I don't know what to say in case I upset her. Then we both end up in some kind of strange world where we don't speak to each other properly. I want to help her, I really do, I just don't know how. When I ask if she's okay it's as if super soldier Sam takes over and she shuts down, all I get is the standard 'I'm fine' answer." I swallow hard. "Then, when she asks me I say I'm fine as well because I don't want to upset her and think that I'm not coping as well as she is. She told me once that she joined the Air Force to get her dad's approval after she had worked so hard to get him back after her mom died. Is that what I have to do? Find some way to win her approval back? To prove that I love her, that I loved mom, that I don't hold her responsible?" I finally run out of words and realise that my tears have soaked my jacket at some point. I didn't even realise I was crying.

"Cassandra Fraiser, you must believe me when I tell you that Samantha Carter does not hate you. She does in fact love you. She does not know how to deal with your feelings as she is unsure how to deal with her own. She misses Janet Fraiser, as we all do, but there was a bond between the two of them – you. She will allow you back into her heart because you have never left it."

I've never heard or seen Teal'c get emotional before but there's a definite hitch to his voice as he finishes the sentence and I suddenly realise how close everyone was to my mom.

"Really?" Part of me wants to believe him, to believe that the next however many years aren't going to stay like this.

"Really. Both of you need time, but I believe that you must speak to each other about this before the memorial service here. Samantha Carter cared a great deal about your mother and she cannot understand what has happened any more than you. You must have this conversation with her." I nod, glad that I came to see him.

"Please don't tell anyone I came to see you." He nods as I stand. I know I can trust him. Now I need to trust myself to speak to Sam.

The sound of the car pulling up outside alerts me to the fact that Cassie's home. A wave of relief washes over me, quickly followed by a determination not to argue with her. I don't even switch the lamp on as the key goes into the lock. She opens the door and closes it quietly.

Maybe we're both playing the same game here.

The room suddenly floods with light. After the darkness of the last few hours I have to squint as I turn to look at her. I see the redness of her eyes and know that it's reflected in mine. She walks over, looks at the smashed plate on the floor and the overflowing bin, and I suddenly realise how vulnerable I've let myself be by not cleaning up.

"Sam?" The voice is so quiet that I almost miss it.

"Hey. Sorry about the mess." Why am I apologising? It's my house. Except that it's not anymore, it's our house. The reason for that invades my thoughts once again, and I feel almost cruel as I push it back to the dark recesses.

"Yeah, whatever." She's looking around the room now ands swallows visibly before perching on the end of the chair next to mine. She looks as though she's ready for flight. "I…um…I…I'm sorry." For what? What could she possibly be sorry for?

"Why? Why are you sorry?"

"Because." Yeah, great answer that. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got home. I'm sorry I yelled at you this morning." Oh yeah, this morning's blazing row had been something alright. "I'm just....sorry."

"Me too kiddo." Silence descends again, neither of us sure what to say next.

"Jack's doing well."

"Yeah."

"Have you seen Daniel? He sounded strange on the phone earlier."

"No." I don't want to see him either. As much as I love him like a brother if I saw him now I'd probably want to punch his lights out. What was he doing making stupid video messages instead of watching Janet's six? Cassie looks at me – either I've missed a question or I said that last thought out loud.

"The...the memorial's tomorrow isn't it?" Tears are forming in Cassie's eyes as she speaks. Part of me wants to wipe them away, part wants to stay put and slam the soldier side of me back into place. For the first time in a while I listen to the 'human' side of my brain and move off the chair, enveloping Cassie in a hug. I just about hear the muttered question of what I'm going to say. Pulling back I find that my cheeks are wet as well.

"I don't know." At least I'm honest. "I've tried and tried to think of something, but I can't." Then it hits me and I know that it's something I have to talk about with Cassie. Reaching into my pocket I pull out the paper that Teal'c gave me. "Teal'c...he said that this is what he'd say. Read it, please." I hold out the paper and, her hand shaking, Cassie takes it and reads.

I can feel my heart swelling as I read Teal'c's words. His immaculate hand writing leaps off the page:

We should not be here to say thank you for Doctor Janet Fraiser, we should be here to say thank you to Doctor Janet Fraiser. Without her I would not be here, and neither would many others. We owe her more gratitude than we can ever show.

Wow. It sounds strange but my tears have changed; they're not angry, or full of sorrow, instead they are tears of pride in my mom, her life and her work.

I feel Sam watching me and I look up to meet her watery smile with one of my own.

"It's...well, I guess he's right isn't he? I mean you wouldn't be here a dozen times over if it hadn't been for mom."

"I'm glad you think that Cass, because I want to say that tomorrow. I didn't think I knew what to say, that nothing would be good enough for her, but this, this is right."

I nod, and together we spend the next couple of hours talking about mom, the people she saved, how much we loved her, how much we still love her. By the end we're both crying with laughter.

"Sam, is it okay to come to the memorial tomorrow? I know it won't be easy and I know I've got the funeral to go to, but the SGC was such a major part of her life that I want to be with you for that." I watch a myriad of emotions play across her face as she debates the wisdom of getting me into the base for tomorrow. I know that it will be hard, but I also know that it feels right.

Sam nods and I lean in to hug her, maybe Teal'c's the key to the two us finding peace.

I try to control my shaking voice for what feels like the hundredth time as I reach the end of the long list of names. I see Cassie standing by the blast door to my left as I lift my head. The two of us are at peace with each other and this last part of my eulogy was written by the two of us last night.

I see her smile at me and I send her a small smile in return before finishing my tribute to the best friend I have ever known.

"Janet was the most dedicated doctor I have ever met, but above all that was her courage, her determination, her humour and her curiosity. Whatever she did, whether it was saving someone's life, telling me to get more sleep or complaining that her little girl had morphed into a fully-fledged teenager, she did it with the same level of compassion, friendship and love. She will be missed greatly as our CMO, but even more so by those who were privileged to call her friend."