AN: Stargate Universe does not belong to me, however much I might wish that it did. I'm not completely satisfied with this ficlet, but maybe somebody will like it. The italicized words are not mine. The first set is a poem by Joanna Fuchs called My Father, My Guiding Light. The second set is the chorus of Just a Dream by Carrie Underwood. I took a little poetic license with the wording, but it is originally hers.

Chloe Armstrong pounded her clenched fists against the cold, unforgiving shuttle doors. She screamed, "Daddy, no, open the doors! Open the doors!" so many times that her words were a jumbled sobbing blur. The dying man's lips opened and he whispered, "I love you."

Then he slumped in the pilot's seat of the leaking shuttle. Senator Alan Armstrong was dead.

"Daddy, nooooo!"

Chloe Armstrong came awake suddenly. She was lying in her quarters aboard the Destiny, that cursed ship that Rush had imprisoned them on. The ship where her beloved father had died to save them all. Her pillow was wet with tears and she was still crying from the awful nightmare she'd had.

Sniffling, Chloe took the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. She left her room and padded quietly down to the observation deck. Looking at the beautiful colors of FTL comforted her somehow. The night owls she passed in the hall saw her red face and her tears and wisely said nothing, letting her pass.

Chloe entered the observation deck and sat down in front of the bench overlooking the giant windows. She covered herself with the blanket and hugged her knees to her chest. She began rocking back and forth in time with her own heartbeat as she thought about her father.

Alan Armstrong had been a good man, a strong man. He loved his wife and little girl more than his own life, a fact he had proven when he had sealed the shuttle doors behind him, sealing his own fate in the process. She stifled a racking sob and rested her head on her knees.

Alan Armstrong was a skilled politician. His way with words was legendary, whether he was convincing the government to continue funding the Stargate program at Icarus Base or convincing his teenage daughter not to run away from home. That memory made Chloe smile sadly. She had been so angry at her mother's refusal to let her get a tattoo that she threatened to run away from home. Daddy had stopped her though.

Now no one would stop her, protect her from the dumb things she still did sometimes. Chloe wiped her eyes in an attempt to quit crying. But she couldn't. Not yet. It was too soon to forget to cry about her father.

Alan Armstrong had been her lighthouse, her rock. He lead the way for her to become the woman she was today, to branch out and suggest new ideas like the one that had cracked the mystery of the ninth chevron. She had struggled so much to be independent and to make her own way and her daddy had made that possible for her.

She thought back to when Lieutenant Scott had gently prompted, "Tell me about him." She thought about everything she could have said, everything she wanted to say about her father but could never find the words to say aloud.

He was like the sun to me, a sure thing, always there, beaming light and warmth on my life. Whatever is good in me today, I owe to his wisdom, his patience, his strength, his love. He taught me by example, as a role model, how to be my own person, how to believe in myself, instructing me without controlling me. Even when we disagreed, he held us together, so our bond was never broken. I understand what he did for me, and I am so grateful that I had him as my solid foundation, my rock. I respect him, I admire him, I love him, my guiding light, my father.

Chloe's heart was broken, she cried out inside, 'Daddy, I need you!' But she knew that in reality, she didn't. He had prepared her all her life for the day when she would have to be on her own, by herself. He had done a fine job and Chloe knew that she could make it. That she would be okay. Eventually.

Chloe stood up and walked over to the observation window. She leaned against the railing and looked out at the softly flashing colors passing by. She reached out and brushed the cold window with her fingertips. Her voice was still sleepy, still quiet, still cracked from crying, but her song was clear.

Daddy, why'd you leave me
Why'd you have to go?
I was counting on forever, now I'll never know
It's like I'm looking from a distance
Standing in the background
Everybody's saying, he's not coming back now
This can't be happening to me
This is just a dream