A/N: Yep. The obligatory Death Knell unseen scene. (That was fun to say…) I don't think anyone really knows Sam's mother's name; just something that sounded good. It's a bit sad, but then the whole situation was. Reviews feed hungry teenagers. Well, if they did, then our food bill would be a lot less! Ah, heck. Just send some Hershey's this way. ;)
I left my daughter again today. Somehow, it was different than the other tens of times. When she was little and I had to leave for another secret mission for this or that, I used to scoop her up in my arms and not want to let go. I remember one time I was almost ready to go out the door. Megan and I had already said our goodbyes, and Mark was at a sleepover birthday party. She had just taken her bath and was supposed to be asleep. Sam had padded out in her fleece footie sleepy; eyes full of drowsiness. Woofie, a favorite stuffed dog, was clutched in her hand as she walked over to me. I picked her up and held her silently. She still smelt like soap and baby powder. I put her back to bed, and she reached up to kiss me on the cheek. I came home a few weeks later with a sprained knee.
When she was older, things changed. Being a preteen with raging hormones altered our relationship, but every time I had to leave, she'd still send me off with a hug and a kiss. We'd never say good-bye, because it would make it seem final.
When Megan died, things changed again. While Megan was waiting, I was talking to the guy who worked at the little kiosk down from my office. Maybe it was my fault in the long term. Sam was hurt, and honestly blamed me. I started to leave in the middle of the night without notice, just a note on the table saying I'd be back eventually and that Mrs. Whoever-it-was-this-base would check in once a day. I regret that now. Sam's become who I used to be. Workaholic, driven, and now there's too much riding on the fate of her life. Computer programs, the secrets of the Stargate, nothing would be the same if she wasn't who she was. I love her for who she is, but I wonder if things would have been different. We reconciled awhile after the accident, but I'm not sure things will ever be the same.
Six years ago I joined the Tok'ra. Became a host to an alien symbiote. Two souls, one body. Etc; etc; etc. I made what I thought were friends. Now it's a conspiracy for the lesser of the two evils. Are we really that much better than the Goa'uld? Half the Tok'ra are warmongers, concerned only with gaining power for themselves.
Selmac didn't want to go back. She said that they wouldn't change, things would get worse, and if would be better if we stayed with the Tauri. I would have done it in a heartbeat, but it's not the right thing to do right now. Whatever alliances we had with our allies are royally screwed up, because we can't see past the end of our symbiotes to look at the big picture. So I left again today.
It was different yet another time. For the first time in years, I didn't sneak out on her in the middle of the night. For two days she slept, waking once in awhile to look around frantically, then drop back into unconsciousness. When Sam finally woke up, I said goodbye. Told her we might not see each other for awhile. Kissed her forehead and left. We both knew that it wasn't likely we would ever see each other again, at least not alive. On the way out I saw her close her eyes in pain in the reflection of the window in the door. If I had stopped for even a second jogging down that hallway, I would have turned around. I bumped into Jack coming around the corner. I told him to take care of Sam, and that I wasn't as blind as they had hoped. I turned and jogged again.
A few hours later I'm here. Sitting alone in the new set of tunnels on our new base, on our new planet. Sitting alone; just alone. I think I've gone asleep, but Selmac is going through the motions for me. I've left my daughter again.
I've left her. Alone. But not as alone as I feel, sitting in a self proclaimed blacklight.