This is a companion to my story, Imperfect Order from Sam's point of view, but it's so interconnected to Atlantis, it's under the Atlantis category. I hope this clears up any lingering questions you have about the ending of Imperfect Order. Read, review, and enjoy!!
Clean Grief
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Clean Grief: keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret that is still characterized by a fresh, wholesome quality
When Daniel died, really and truly died, I saw expressions on the faces of my friends that I will never, ever, forget.
And believe me, I've tried.
Hysterics pulled at me, and I'm sure my face crumbled. I know my heart did. Even now, every time I think of it, my heart goes into palpitations and my hands shake a little. They don't teach you how to deal with the death of people who are more than friends to you. And no matter how much you joke about something like that, it isn't funny, even if the person does come back. Especially if the person comes back. I look at Daniel sometimes, and I wonder how we got so lucky.
How do you deal with the death of someone who was more than a friend?
Daniel was a brother to me from almost the beginning. More than Mark ever was, in some ways, because Daniel was a chosen brother, as was Teal'c. Jack..well. Jack isn't something I really want to touch on.
So I ask you again: How do you deal with the death of someone who knows me better than I know myself?
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I wasn't there when the Atlantis expedition left. For the first year I mourned that lost opportunity a little, though I rarely devoted much time to thoughts of what had happened; things were busy with the Ori, after all. Sometimes I would spare a thought for the amazing technology that the scientists had surely found- for I didn't allow myself to believe for a minute that they were all dead- but I always turned back to my work and allowed myself to be reassured with the fact that McKay would never let anything happen to the expedition members, especially if his own ass was at risk.
Other times Daniel would come in to my lab, dragging his feet, frown lines marring his features and complaining bitterly of the injustice of Jack's decision. I would swallow smiles, knowing that Daniel would feel much better after blowing off some steam. So I sat patiently and listened to his anger, because that's what family did.
"And I'll bet anything they'll have so many records of everything. All of their advancement in everything. Think of the good we could do! God, Sam, what I wouldn't give to see them! Imagine! Hundreds, thousands of years of culture that influenced every major culture on Earth!" Daniel threw up his hands and heaved a heartfelt sigh.
"Um hum," I agreed noncommittally, checking the math to my equations.
"I know, I know," he chastised himself, filling in my real thoughts aloud. "I'm needed here."
"And loved here," I reminded him with a gentle smile.
This time Daniel looked properly abashed. "There's that too."
"You know we could never replace you."
Daniel smiled widely, saying, "Yeah, yeah. I'll get out of your hair. Listen, we still on for lunch?"
I nodded. "I'll swing by and pick you up, since Teal'c promised he'd meet us there." Unlike Daniel or me, Teal'c could be trusted to make sure he made things like lunch appointments; Daniel and I had a tendency to get absorbed in our work.
That day and many other days that first year passed with as much normalcy as we were ever allowed to have.
Then the big news came. Atlantis, the lost city of the Ancients, abandoned so long ago, was back in action.
Of course, that meant the SGC now discovered yet another creature that sought death and power was active in our universe. The Wraith, whose horrors equaled that of the Goa'ould and the Ori in their own way, was ravaging the Pegasus Galaxy. A sad note entered my mind at the revelation because Janet would have been so interested in the Wraith from a biological point of view. I pushed the thought away and refocused my attention on the en masse briefing.
It was Dr. Weir, the newly made Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay and Dr. Beckett that handled the briefing for the most part. Dr. Weir remained mostly unchanged, though there were a few more lines creasing her face. I didn't know much of Sheppard besides that Jack told me that he was quite possibly the best pilot in the history of the Air Force and a damn fine man to boot. I took Jack's word for it, and was surprised to hear him speak of the geeks of Atlantis with both pride and an easy camaraderie. He went up a few notches in my estimation, for not even Jack or Teal'c had shown that sort of respect on our initial meetings. Dr. Beckett had a soft, kind exterior that belied the iron will within, and I was surprised to hear how much personal experience he had with the Wraith, but felt reassured, knowing that he cared so much for his people that he was more than willing to risk life and limb for them.
Dr. Beckett was all Atlantis could want in a CMO; kind and cruel by turns, knowing how to deal with each patient with an innate and almost supernatural knowledge. Sheep herding comments aside, every single member of the Atlantis expedition was clearly in his debt a thousand times over, but the Scot didn't ask for a single thing.
It was the same sort of desire to help people that had drawn me to Daniel, and I felt a connection link me to the doctor.
The biggest surprise was McKay. I had hoped that Atlantis would teach him to show humility and kindness, or at least lessen his arrogance. Any life lesson would do, really.
At first I thought that he had been completely unchanged. He was loud, obnoxious, rude, made the same bad come-ons to me. I wrote it off as a hopeless case, but a part of me pitied that fact that he would live out his days without a single person to call more than an acquaintance.
My first clue that this was completely wrong was after the briefing, when McKay jogged off after Sheppard, pestering him mindlessly about the ATA gene. At first I wrote it off to McKay being his annoying self, but I realized that McKay doesn't normally chase after anyone. He lords over people, puts down people, filets people with biting comments, or so he had once upon a time. Later, as I spent more time around him, I noticed that he smiled with genuine pleasure when Sheppard brought lunch to him (and consequently me, since McKay refused to stop pestering me about all he had missed), listened to Dr. Weir (for as long as his attention would allow), and, even more interestingly, he traded jab for jab with Beckett in the infirmary before leaving once more on the Daedalus, and not once had there been real rancor in his voice (unlike when he threatened Dr. Lam to expose her degree for the fake he claimed it was).
I was happy for him, I really was. No one, not even McKay deserves to live without knowing that someone will miss McKay the personality just as much, if not more, as McKay the brain.
McKay and the rest of the Atlantis expedition left soon enough, and this time I made to effort to wave them off while also restraining Daniel with a hand on his shoulder. When the Daedalus finally left, Daniel heaved a sigh, so mournful that I wondered for a brief moment if he wouldn't be happier to go off. I dismissed the thought when Daniel turned his mega-watt smile towards me, and simply by virtue of knowing each other for so long, we walked in unison to the commissary.
Daniel teased me with McKay's changed personality, saying that there was no way that I could resist the astrophysicist now. I raised an eyebrow in a competent imitation of Teal'c, though neither of us discussed the fact that there was already someone already near and dear to my heart. Once we were drinking our coffee however, Daniel's face grew a little pensive, and our conversation grew more serious as we discussed the more serious matters of Atlantis.
After that, Atlantis was a little more prominent in my thoughts. How could it not be, when every week I spent an afternoon reading mission reports and such with Daniel in his office (so that we could keep each other on task), where Teal'c and Cam joined us, turning it into an impromptu party that became a time to look forward to.
We were still occupied with the Ori though, and never managed the time to seriously contemplate a visit to the Pegasus Galaxy, though Daniel pestered us often enough.
Then we discovered we had a more than legitimate reason to go. We had to, essentially, in order to continue our mission. Those days above in the Daedalus stirred the primal excitement, the need to know more that had lead me into science to begin with. I'm not sure that Daniel grabbed more than a few hours of sleep. He was the last one to bed and the first one up, and Cam, Teal'c, Vala and I began to suspect that the coffee mug was glued to his hand. Daniel went so far as to mark each day off in his pocket calendar, pestering Lindsey Novak about what she had seen. Finally Caldwell snapped, sounding like an irate father when he declared that if Daniel asked one more question about Atlantis, he would turn around the vessel right then and there.
Things quieted down after that.
Then we arrived.
The scene that awaited us as we approached the mechanical city was…well.
Breathtaking.
Daniel's breath hitched a little, and his eyes were suspiciously glassy. Cam and Vala were obviously awed, and even Teal'c looked stunned. Well, as stunned as Teal'c ever looks. Atlantis is the culmination of one of the greatest races in the history of the universe, and as the light hit its glassy spires, I understood why.
I think we all felt our time there was to short, but once again, I was shocked by just how much McKay had changed these three years. Since I didn't have a reference point for anyone but Dr. Weir, I couldn't pass any real judgment on anyone else, but I was proud of Earth. These people had so obviously bonded past all else, because of duress and love, that they were a family.
Just as each SG team was a family.
I was honored to meet Teyla and Ronon, pleased to put a nature to the oft mentioned names. Teyla was absolute sweetheart, genuinely pleased to meet each and every one of us. I was also struck by how much Ronon reminded me of Teal'c, though the Runner had a wild side completely different than that of the Jaffa. But like all adventures, this one too ended, and I left with more food for thought than I had in a while.
Daniel sent me a glance and I saw that he too noticed the changes that had been made in McKay in particular, and the way that SGA-1 was more than just a group of close friends. Like us, they were so closely bonded it was impossible for them to think otherwise.
What I remember most, though is the conversation I had as right before I left with the CMO of Atlantis.
"So nice to meet you again, lass," the Scottish burr greeted me, and I couldn't have stopped the smile even if I wanted to.
"It's nice to meet you again too," I said with a laugh, obediently rolling up a sleeve automatically.
Beckett's eyes lit up with the motion. "Ah! I'm sorry to say, Colonel, that your fellow scientists are not always so willing to have their blood work done." He told me as he busied himself by prepping a needle.
"I take it McKay isn't the easiest patient?" I asked, dry humor flavoring my response.
Beckett sighed heavily, "None of SGA-1 are, with the exception of Teyla. She's a real good girl. Never scratches at her stitches, allows things to heal at their own pace…I've learned how to handle Rodney though. He really isn't that bad once you learn which buttons to push," he laughed and winked broadly. "Usually all it takes is a comparison to Colonel Sheppard."
I felt a stab of worry. "Is he that competitive over the littlest things?" I asked, trying to rationalize my worry. For all his faults, McKay had grown on me long ago and I didn't like the fact that he might still be so utterly petty.
The laugh was so rich this time it eased my fears immediately. "Technically, yes," he admitted through his chortle, "but he and Colonel Sheppard are such good friends you would be more worried if they stopped their arguments. I can't count how many times I've done work in my office, listening to them bitch and moan at each other. Mostly though, by the time I'm ready to release them, my nerves and the nerves of my nurses are so frazzled that I can't wait to get them out of the infirmary, the idiots." A smile made crow's feet appear at the corners of his eyes. "They're good lads though, and usually they bring me a peace offering once they're released."
I honestly didn't know what to say. A change, yes I had expected. This magnitude though…that was overwhelming. And I had no small suspicion that this man was a huge factor in that change. We made small talk for the rest of the time, because I had plenty to chew on already. I thanked him for his time, and left the room, joining Vala in the mess hall in order to quietly chew her out one more time for her slip in the briefing. She apologized profusely, of course, but that damage was done. I resigned myself to blushing miserably every time McKay made a crack about Vala's words from now on.
Then we left, the Daedalus taking us back to our home galaxy, back to the Ori. Beyond my personal thoughts, I also had Daniel's news to chew on, and my brain was kept busy the entire trip.
Atlantis escaped my notice in the weeks that came. I was focused on other things, things I viewed more important than the events of another galaxy.
I was in my lab when the alarms for unscheduled offworld activation. I blasted off of my stool, meeting up with Cam and Vala, hearts in our throats. We met General Landry, Daniel and Teal'c, and watched as the final klaxons locked. Eight chevrons- that meant Atlantis.
However, it was just four days after the last data burst.
The hairs on the back of my neck shot straight up, and I swallowed, stiffening.
My friends echoed my tense movements, and we leaned forward as one entity when the Atlantis IDC was confirmed.
When the front of the casket was revealed, my heartbeat began thundering. Usually the deceased were carried back on the Daedalus; Atlantis simply didn't have to power to power up a wormhole back to Earth every time that they had to bring back the dead.
Therefore, this was someone special.
Someone important.
I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw McKay, Sheppard, Ronon, a blond woman, Dr. Zelenka, and Lorne stepped through the gate. They are alright! My mind shouted.
My pulse slowed, then started to speed again as I realized that a very important person was missing
Where was Dr. Beckett?
The litany started as I took in the absolutely heartbroken, desolate faces. Shit, shit, shit, please no, don't tell me he's dead! I just talked to him a few weeks ago! Shit! Shit! SHIT! Please, don't do this! He must be still at the infirmary, busy, please, God, don't do this to these people…
Apparently death inspires religion in us all.
My pleas weren't as frantic as when Daniel died, but I had liked the good doctor. A part of me was left screaming its denial, because I was so sick of this happening to good people. So sick of watching people die, watching their friends have to pick up the pieces. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, dammit! He was kind, pleasant, and over top the scene in front of my eyes I could smell the blood that had covered Janet the day she had died…
Shaking hands gripped the microphone, but before General Landry was able to say a single word, Rodney looked up, confirming all of my worst fears.
There was something maniacal in Rodney's eye as he looked up, something under the dead pain that flooded the expressive blue eyes. He closed his eyes, face falling for a moment before he looked up, this time with guilt lacing the pain. "We regret to inform you," he choked out, tears filling his eyes, "That Doctor Carson Beckett died two days ago."
Silence reigned.
I turned away, right into Daniel's arms, who pulled me close. It was so easy, so natural a movement, and yet it made me sick to remember that another good person had died; someone had been taken away from the family. We were the lucky, the rare ones. We got Daniel back. It didn't matter the circumstances; it was enough that it wasn't fair. I let loose some soft sobs, as Cam put his arm around both of us. Teal'c took the other side, and Vala made up the difference, murmuring her condolences.
"I understand," General Landry said heavily. Other than the tears of me and my friends around me, silence still weighed in the room. I couldn't bear to turn back, wondering how they could bear to hold the casket still. "I…I'm sorry. Please, get situated. We'll debrief in two hours." The extra hour was as good as a mournful cry, followed by deep, sorrowful laminations from anyone else.
We didn't hurry to go and offer our apologies to the Atlantis members. If for us it was painful, I didn't know how they were still alive.
We respectfully stayed out of their way, but didn't leave each other's company. We all huddled in Vala's quarters, and she took out a hidden bottle of booze, dishing it out to everyone. No one bothered to ask where she had gotten the wine or the glasses. "Drink it," she commanded, tipping back an entire glass in one shot. I sipped at the strong wine, almost preferring the heady feeling of being drunk to the empty coldness I was currently experiencing. Daniel, who was next to me on the bed, stared off to some middle distance. This couldn't be easy for him either. Daniel had spent enough time in the Ancient outpost in Antarctica to have known the Dr. Beckett even better than I. Cam followed Vala's lead, though with more decorum and Teal'c didn't touch the alcohol, bowing his head instead. We were all thinking of the deaths of our friends; Janet, Daniel, my father, Sha're, so many that were so well loved, but they still died.
It was like a personal hell again. Forget Sokar's hell, this was far worse.
Someone knocked on the door. For a long moment no one moved, and then Teal'c gracefully stood up from his chair and opened the door.
His bulk blocked out the face, but no one in the room was that interested in seeing who it was anyways. Sergeant Siler's voice asked that SG-1 please be present at the debriefing.
Bile rose in my throat, and a few tears slipped down. I didn't hear Teal'c speak, so I assume he nodded or something. I was already turning to bury my head in Daniel's shoulder. Vala absentmindedly placed a warm hand on my shoulder, swirling the contents in her cup. In one fell swoop she downed the glass for a second time, and looked to be seriously considering a third. Cam's hands were clenched so tightly around the glass I was afraid it was shatter.
You never, ever, get used to death.
Obediently, we were at the briefing exactly two hours later. I'm pretty sure that the members of Atlantis were almost worst for the wear thanks to the down time. They were all seated. Sheppard still looked a little shell shocked, as if it hadn't sunk in yet. Rodney, opposite Sheppard on General Landry's left still had that maniacal gleam that scared me, and nothing in the world could disguise the small tremors that ran up and down his frame. Lorne was next to Sheppard, eyes red and face haggard. Dr. Zelenka's wispy hair was in complete disarray and he had his glasses in his hand, toying with the object, though his drawn face gazed unseeing at the tabletop. Ronon was clenching and unclenching his hands on the edge of the table and tapping his foot rapidly, face most hidden by his dreadlocks. The last was the woman that I had only seen in passing. A doctor, I knew, but I didn't know her personality. Her eyes were bloodshot and she huddled in on herself as if she expected to be physically abused.
We silently took out seats, and General Landry gestured for the briefing to begin.
McKay began with, "It all started three nights ago. Two of my scientists activated something. We got it shut off as quickly as possible, believing that there were no ill effects. Carson-" his voice broke on the name, the first emotion in his words so far. He cleared his throat. "Carson checked them out. After I spoke to them about the dos and do nots of the Atlantis laboratory, I told them to take the day off the next day. They told me that they already had the day off. I had promised Carson-" his voice cracked again, "Carson that I would go fishing with him."
The story was unfurled like some horror story. Rodney backing out of the promise in order to have lunch with Dr. Brown; the explosion, leading to Teyla being caught with shrapnel and rushed to the infirmary; Dr. Zelenka and Sheppard's confusion over the cause and the discovery of what had happened by Rodney; Dr. Cole's headache and Dr. Beckett's subsequent demand that she take medicine after Dr. Beckett couldn't find anyone else willing to go with him; the accidental discovery that the other victim of the device was already in the infirmary; the knowledge that Carson was going to try and remove it, despite all demands to the contrary.
Each at the table had spoken their part and to tell the end of the story they turned naturally to Rodney. My heart was a dull ache as I waited to hear the ending.
"He locked us out. H-he locked us out," he repeated, stressing the second time with the full weight of his pain behind it. "He started surgery with Watson. I tried to talk him out of it, but…" his hands were shaking so much that even flat on the table I could see the movement. The tremble in his body increased as he continued, "He wouldn't go, and we couldn't get in. He told John to have his men waiting," a frantic quaver entered his voice, "and we couldn't get to him. Finally we hear that he is done. He's removed the tumor. They come to retrieve the tumor, but Carson decides to meet the halfway." Rodney's eyes filled with tears, and he started crying softly. "The hand off was made, the fucking hand off was made and then the damn thing exploded!" His exclamation was followed by Rodney lifting his hand to his face, and he tried to hide his tears.
No one else was any better. Tears were streaming down most of the faces in the room.
And so I ask you again: How do you deal with the death of someone who knew you better than yourself.
Long moments passed and no one spoke. I don't think it was possible at that point. Cam griped my hand on one side, Vala on the other. Daniel looked broken and even Teal'c eyes looked suspiciously glassy.
"I'm sorry," General Landry managed. "We'll book flights immediately for all of you for Scotland."
That's one of the things I liked about General Landry. The Atlantians not going to break the news together never entered the equation.
"Dismissed."
I was the first out of the room, though I think it was more by virtue that I was closest to the door than anything else. I hit the halls at a sprint, intent on making it back to my quarters before I started to sob uncontrollably.
I locked myself in, throwing myself on my bed, and as predicted, the hysterical sobs began. I liked Dr. Beckett. Carson. I liked him. He was a fantastic doctor and equally wonderful person.
So I cried for him. But I also cried for all of the others lost over the years. The young, the old, the innocent, the guilty, those killed by the bastards of the universe: The Goa'ould, the Replicators, the Ori.
The Wraith.
But I cried the hardest of all for the people that were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
And that's how, for the first time in a couple years, I cried myself to sleep.
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As sad as it is, all grief passes.
And the agonizing pain faded to a dull ache and eventually even that was soothed by the friendship- familyship- of my teammates. A month had passed, two, and then even the third month was drawing to a close.
I'll never forget that night. It had been a really rotten day. I didn't have enough time check out what was wrong with my car, so I sent it into the shop where it was discovered that a mouse had somehow gotten into the engine and died a horrible death, which resulted in my car smelling. They agreed to clean it all out, but the earliest they could get to it was tomorrow morning, which meant I was without a car. Then I spilled four cups of coffee in under two hours; one when I tripped getting into the SGC, another when one of the doctors collided with me in the commissary, a third when I knocked my elbow into the mug and ruined the painstaking calculations I had worked out yesterday, and a fourth all over myself when I was startled by Cam coming into the lab.
Furious, I sent everyone out of the lab with a glare that would have rivaled Rodney's and spent a majority of the afternoon in a bad mood as I repeated all the work I had done yesterday and found myself making the most incredibly stupid errors.
Frustrated to the point of tears, I finally threw an empty test tube again the wall. The small tinkle of breaking glass lifted my mood only slightly.
When Daniel came in, crunching on the glass, a wry smile lit his face. "Sam, why do I feel as if I am walking on chips?"
I flushed in embarrassment. "Because a test tube might have broken."
"And I'm sure it did that all by itself too. Listen, I've got something for you."
I sighed heavily. "Daniel, no offense, but I'm a little busy right now. And annoyed. And really, really in need of more coffee."
Daniel shook his head, wheedling, "No, come on. Trust me on this. Where's your computer?"
"Daniel, please, later."
"Not until you listen. It'll make you feel better, I promise!"
My temper started to rise. "Daniel, not right now!" I snapped.
"No." Daniel returned flatly. "Just listen," he finished stubbornly.
There are days when it is just easier to bend to Daniel's will than to fight over it. I sighed in defeat and Daniel hurriedly snatched my laptop, loading what looked like a normal disk. He turned the computer away from me and clicked a few times. He turned the volume up all the way, and from my laptop began the soft strains of someone playing piano.
Satisfied, Daniel took a seat on one of the many stools that were present in my lab.
It was indescribably beautiful, haunting and familiar. It was the same song that they had played at Carson's funeral here on Earth, in the SGC. I just sat and listened to the playing, allowing the sound to wash away my frustrations and fears, the minor pains of the everyday like spilling hot coffee on myself and the major pains of life, like Carson's death. There was an underlying definitive quality that was reminiscent of something that was lost and pain, but something else that spoke of hope.
It was strange how much music could make a difference.
Finally, the last strains died away softly, and I opened my eyes.
Things looked brighter. My coffee spills faded and became nothing more than a faint inconvenience, the lost equations a misfortune. Carson's death…not erased, but calmed. "What on Earth is that?" I breathed eyes wide with curiosity.
Daniel grinned broadly. "I couldn't have chosen more ironic words. Sam, this just arrived on the Daedalus."
I gasped, "But then…what…how?" I couldn't complete any of the questions.
The grin stretched further. "You'll never guess."
"So tell me!"
"Sam, Dr. McKay made this. Didn't you hear the fuss about the piano strings? Apparently he had this copy of some music program or something on his computer. Anyways, for whatever reason, Lt. Colonel Sheppard finds this program…Sam, Dr. McKay wrote this song for Carson."
My mind was in an uproar. I couldn't seem to link any of the phrases into a cohesive idea. "What?" I asked, a fair imitation of Cam.
Daniel nodded eagerly. "Yeah, apparently Lt. Colonel Sheppard somehow convinced Dr. McKay that he should play this for Atlantis. At first Dr. McKay threw a fit, an absolute fit over being found out. But he finally agreed, on the condition that he was allowed to build the piano himself. The only thing they couldn't manage, though, was piano strings. So they had some brought on the Daedalus."
I knew some of these details. I really did. They just didn't click until right now. And like a ghost, a certain memory resurfaced.
"Look, I…I never meant for anyone to get hurt, much less you."
"It's okay. We had to try something."
His eyes lost some of their focus. "I always wanted to be a pianist."
"Excuse me?" I knew he couldn't have possibly said what my ears had heard.
"A concert pianist- you know, a guy who plays piano in front of lots of people."
"Right."
"What did you think I said?"
I let loose a peal of laughter despite my pain. "Nevermind." That's something that I didn't feel the need to discuss with him.
"I had a not so comfortable childhood. My parents hated each other, blamed me. Music was my salvation. It had this perfect order for me," he finished, a breathless laugh that was devoid of humor trailing his words.
"That's nice…really." I looked up in confusion, questioning his sanity under pressure.
"When I was twelve, my teacher told me to quit. A fine clinical player, he said, but no sense of the art whatsoever."
I felt uncomfortable and I'm pretty sure it showed on my face. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Hospital gowns turn me on," he replied, delivering the perfect amount of snark to alienate himself once more. I wasn't fooled. "I turned to science because I thought it would be different from music, but it isn't. It's just the same. It's just as much of an art as anything else."
I sighed, though I felt the stirring of pity in my chest, feeling I was beginning to understand the man a little better. "Look, it's not your fault the EM pulse didn't work."
"You're an artist, Major. Maybe the best I've ever seen. I'm just critical because I'm jealous."
The admission sent a jolt to my heart. A lot of things about Rodney McKay were starting to make sense. "I'm touched…really. I wish I had a brilliant plan to draw for you."
"And you're funny too, even electrocuted. Me? I've got…I've got nothing."
"You're creeping me out, McKay."
"It's just self-preservation, see? I'm beginning to realize that I'm not going to solve this, and that one of your typically insane ideas is probably going to be our best chance."
That brought me back to business. "How much time until detonation?"
He responded to my seriousness with a curt, "You were right. We cut it almost in half."
"Sam!" Daniel snapped his fingers in front of my eyes. The movement was so McKay-like that for a split second it was McKay in front of me with the maniacal and hurt gleam that had stayed in his eyes during his last time here.
I shook myself out of reverie, breathing hard. My voice sounded strange as I demanded, "I need your car."
Daniel frowned, confused. "Why do you need my car? What's going on…Sam, Sam! Are you okay?" He placed a worried hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry! I thought you would like the music, and-"
"It's not a big deal. Listen, I'm a little busy, so…" I smiled, but Daniel took the weak excuse for what it was; a desire to be alone, and stood to leave without another word.
"Alright, but before I forget, this came for you. It's also from Rodney," Daniel told me with a curious frown, pulling a many folded piece of paper out of his pocket.
"Thanks," I said, pulling it out of his hand. A frown wrinkled my forehead as I unfolded the enveloped, opened it, and drew from within a rumpled piece of paper.
Inside was indeed a letter from Rodney, written in his sharp script. The creasing hadn't changed the nature of the document. It was remarkably short for such a long winded man, but what was written told me once and for all that Rodney had finally learned what family was.
I'm sure this comes too little to late, but I thought I would write it anyways. I'm sure you remember when Teal'c was stuck in the Stargate, and I told you that there was no hope. I thought for a minute you were going to punch me for saying that, and for the first time I understand why. It was never about what was possible. Teal'c was family. I'm sorry I didn't see that earlier. I'm sorry I didn't understand it earlier. So, Sam, I'm sorry. Really, really sorry.
I finally get why you didn't give up.
Rodney
I sat in shock for a minute, then two. How could I respond to this? What could I say? Was I even able to tell him thanks for getting it, even if it was just know? I wasn't sure. I reread the letter, and then a third time.
"Sam-" Daniel began.
I cut him off with a curt, "I'm fine," stemming the hurt that was sure to appear on his face with a warm smile. I took a moment to calm myself. "My car's in the shop, and I really need to go do something."
The thing I love most about Daniel is when it matters most, he doesn't argue. He trusts. Without a word he handed his keys over from his pocket and I was out of the room.
The one thing they never tell you when you head into the Air Force Academy is that you will end up with a lead foot. Jack, Cam and I all do it; if we're going fifteen miles over the speed limit at any given time, it can be considered a relaxing day for us.
That day I earned my title as Queen of the Lead Foot. I essentially floored it out of the complex and straight into town. I made my way around town at a 47 mph cruise in a 25 mph zone. Finally spotting what I wanted, I crossed two lanes of traffic, flipped the bird to the three cars that honked at me, and pulled to a stop. I yanked my purse from the seat beside me, pulled the keys out, shoved them in my purse, and leaned against the car, trembling a little.
I settled my heart rate by calming my breaths. What am I doing here? I wondered to myself for a brief moment before resigning myself to my fate. I was going to go into the music store, which I knew nothing about, buy music books that I didn't know if McKay even liked, and send them off with the Daedalus in hopes that he would get my message.
Problem was, I didn't even know what my message was.
Steeling myself, I walked in with the most professional and confident attitude I could manage. I looked around, located what seemed to be music books, and headed directly over.
Beethoven, Mozart, musicals, pop artists and the like confused the hell out of me, and I must have gazed at the books for at least ten minutes. A saleswoman took pity on me finally and came over to help me.
"What are you looking for?" She asked, clearly pitying the non-initiated.
"Ummmm…books?" I said, floundering.
"What kind?" She asked patiently.
"Well, that's just it. I was hoping to get a few music books for a friend of mine. He uhhhh…" My mind scrambled for a lie before settling on one that was both appropriate and would explain why I didn't particularly care what music stuff I got. "He recently had a fire. The managed to save most of the house, but his music stuff was completely destroyed. So…whatever you recommend is probably good."
Pity alit in her eyes, and she nodded sympathetically. "I see," she consoled. "Well, if you don't mind my asking how much are you willing to spend?"
"I'm not sure. Enough for six or seven books at least."
Her eyes cleared. "If that ever happened to me, I know what books I would pick. Should we start from there?"
Relief made my shoulders sag. "Yes. That would be perfect."
She looked at the books for a moment, consideration in every line of her posture. Then, in about twenty seconds she pulled out four different books; two classical pieces books, a book from a band I had never heard of, and a the sheet music for a musical. I accepted the first three without question, but the musical I held up with a touch of disdain. "He isn't exactly a musical person," I explained. The woman shrugged it off, putting it back on the shelf. Another moment's deliberation, and she shoved five more books at me.
"Does that work?" she queried, eyes full of passion for the music that she had just shoved at me. Considering I didn't know the difference between any of the composers, I decided it would have to do.
"Yup. Ring me up."
I brought back with me a book of compositions from a composer named Debussy, another by Rachmaninoff, a third that was a compilation of several composers, a book for a band called Five for Fighting, The Fray, and Keane, plus, as a joke, the sheet music from Wormhole X-Treme and the spin-off series, Wormhole El Dorado.
I didn't greet anyone like I normally did, clutching the package to my chest like a lifeline. Why was I doing this? Going through all the trouble?
As I sat in my lab and stared at the music books from within their plain brown box, I asked myself that question over and over again.
The only conclusion I could manage was that Rodney deserved it. He had finally passed those stupid idiotic barriers and defensive mechanisms and let people see the real him. He put himself out there for his friends, and they returned the favor by becoming his family. He deserved the recognition. Yeah, he'd screwed up more than once, around me, around his friends (the solar system comes to mind…though I have destroyed a few suns myself), screwed up so badly that there wasn't any hope of repair, but the man could do anything. Including earning forgiveness, as he had earned mine.
I still didn't know what to write though.
'I'm sorry about Carson and I hope you're okay' sounded stupid and useless. 'This is for all the times that you had to rely on me for the answers. I hope you're doing better' wasn't any better than the first message. I agonized over it for hours and hours, wondering how to show Rodney that everything was going to be alright.
His melody played in my mind, winding around my thoughts like a cat. An idea was trying to wiggle free, and I could tell it was going to be just right.
I smiled so broadly when the message came to me that my cheeks hurt. I grabbed a plain blank sheet of paper, and in my soft scrawl I wrote on the paper my message, knowing it was just right. I made sure that Colonel Caldwell took it on board by handing it to him personally and watching him beam up.
And so I ask you one last time: How do you deal with the death of someone who knows you better than yourself?
I can only hope my message said it all:
Be strong, Answer Man. Oh, and by the way, welcome to the ranks of the artists.
Sam
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THE END!