Disclaimer: I do not own any ideas, characters, plots, or deeds to Stargate SG-1, nor do I claim any ownership to anything related to Stargate SG-1. I actually think it's in fairly good hands at the moment (then, I've only seen through Season 7...), and I have no doubt that if I was actually part of it, our dearly beloved SG-1 would be considerably less than what we've all come to expect from it.

A flashback/scene has quotes taken directly from the Season One show "Singularity", and some comparisons later were inspired by "Rite of Passage", which I believe is Season 5. The lyrics at the beginning are taken from a song called "Seasons of Love" from the musical Rent, which I also don't own - however, these lyrics, combined with too many episodes of Singularity and the first watching of Heroes, made me just a bit depressed, and I came out with this. Also, the last line at the very end is taken from Ecclesiastes 3 of the Bible. I thought it was appropriate.

Critisism, as always, is very welcome, since I know I probably mangled quite a few things. :) If you wish to flame,kindly flame with a reason and/or purpose. In any case, please leave a note or review!

In daylights; in sunsets

In minutes; in cups of coffee

In inches, in miles –

In laughter, in strife...

In five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure a last year on Earth?

Measure in love -

Seasons of love...

Janet Frasier was not my real mother. My mother was tall, happy, and dimpled, with long blonde hair I always wished I'd gotten instead of the strangly brown mess I was stuck with. I have problems actually remembering her, but in the split second after I wake up after dreaming about her, I tell myself over and over again what she was like, before she gets hazy. Still, I wonder if she was tall, or if I was short enough she just seemed tall – then I remember having to look down at my friends to make eye contact with them. I can't remember if she had blue eyes or brown eyes, until I hear people telling me I had my mother's eyes. They were blue, in case you're wondering.

I always had nightmares when I was very little, and they didn't stop until SG-1 brought me back through the Stargate with them. What scared me more than the nightmares themselves was that some part of them always seemed to happen. My mother never believed it, so I learned not to talk about it past the age of seven. But she was always right there with me, stroking my hair, and waiting for me to fall back asleep. The nightmares, she understood; no one else but her ever knew. For some reason, they stopped after Sam and the rest of SG-1 took me to Earth. I don't know if the dreams were linked to the planet, my family, my age, or if I just had some mental barrier I had to get over for them to stop. Too much was going on then – I didn't care, and I didn't want Dr. Frasier to put me through any more tests. For whatever reason, they stopped, and I was completely fine with that.

Looking back, those early days seem blurred – I don't even remember wandering aimlessly for days on Hanka, and I don't remember where or how SG-1 found me. I've kind of wondered if I was a little crazy, then. Even the days immediately after arriving on Earth are hard to remember. But I do remember clinging to Sam. I think it was her blonde hair and blue eyes, even if she was completely unsure of how to act around me. She looked so nice, and somehow more trustworthy than Jack or Teal'c, and even poor Daniel – even though it was obvious he wanted my trust. Eventually, Daniel did get me to open up around him. He just always looked so hopeful, hanging around me, telling me stories, always smiling and joking. It wasn't until later that he told me about his own parents' deaths'; as horrible as it is, it brought us closer together, and he got my trust. He didn't fail to let me know I could come and talk to him about anything – and, I've found many times, that I can.

But I think the fact that I wanted Sam and only Sam with me was what finally got through her military front. One of my few impressions from that time was that first night in the SGC, snuggled against Sam while she combed her fingers through my hair, waiting until I fell asleep to leave. She must have stayed even past that, because when I woke up from dreaming about my mom, the first thing I saw was concerned blue eyes asking if I was alright. She was right there, being my mother enough to keep me sane, butbeing Sam enough to let me know things were different,always telling me how brave I was. Somehow, she loved me, wanted me, and treated me like I think she would have treated her daughter, if she'd had one. Even at twelve, I could tell how tight a reign she kept on herself, her emotions, and her personality, but I knew – even if she couldn't bring herself right out to say it. That was just Sam – I loved her for herself. Still do.

And I think she knew that, too.

"Colonel, I'm staying." Resolute and determined steps echoed through the room.

A frightened glance. "Are we going to die?"

A strong shake of the head; a tight embrace. "No. We're not going to die."

Silence. Cold.

"We're both very brave."

A tighter hug.

"I love you."

A pause. A whisper - "I love you, too."

I still wonder sometimes, but not as much as I did that first strange year, what would have happened if I'd become Cassandra Carter, instead of Cassandra Frasier. Sam once slipped during our bimonthly chess game, and talked about alternate realities. Of course, when I ever-so-subtly tried to press her for more information, she tried to cover it by nervously babbling about the String Theory; I ended up learning more than I ever wanted about wormhole theory and lots of other fun stuff that String Theory apparently also dictates.

Janet was doing something in the kitchen, looking over her shoulder at us every five seconds for some reason. I tried to ignore her and concentrate on what Sam was saying and whatever weird strategy she was trying to teach me in chess. She'd started teaching me last weekend, and had been around almost every other night to pick up where we left off, since the games only got longer and longer as I learned. Sam wasn't scheduled for any off-world missions for another four days, so I was spending as much time with her as I could. It was always very.... hard, I guess, when she said she'd do her best to make it back. Hard to hear, but I guessed, harder to say. Luckily, Janet hadn't had to go off-world, yet, but I knew it would come. Even as I thought it, I saw her brown eyes flicker out at me and Sam. What was she so worried about?

"Cass? Your move."

My eyes quickly flickered to her big blue eyes, waiting expectantly. I looked down at her chessboard and saw that her knight was in a perfect position to take my bishop and checkmate my king. Crap.

I looked up at her suspiciously. "How'd it get like that?"

She smirked. "You weren't paying attention."

I sighed and looked for the best strategy. "So how's Daniel and the rest of the guys?"

She raised her eyebrows and blew out a long breath. "Well, you know Daniel. Can't keep himself out of trouble."

"What happened? Is he okay?"

"Physically. I think the shock of being dead and seeing his friends commit suicide for him was enough to jar him a little mentally, though..." she said absently, running a hand through her short blonde hair.

"What?" I looked up at her, dropping my black chess piece. "But you're here!"

She looked up, her eyes widening in horror. "Um, Cass? Have I ever explained the String Theory to you? It's really a fascinating theory, even if the latest revisions are actually pretty far off..." she rattled on.

"Sam? Sam…"

I got enough out of that to figure out String Theory wasn't so theoretical anymore – alternate realities included.

So – how many Cassandra Carters out there, close enough to us on the curved, or warped, or whatever it is plane or dimension that SG-1 found me, but far enough away that Janet never spoke up? It's that fork in the road, the defining event. There are an infinite number of possibilities – there could be anywhere from one to a trillion. I know that if Janet hadn't said she wanted to raise me, Sam couldn't have stood to see me shipped off to a foster home. She loved me too much, and in some ways already thought of me as her own daughter. There were no other SGC personnel who could be trusted enough to take me who wanted or could afford to take me. Sam would have been incredibly depressed and unhappy giving up the job she worked so hard for and loves so much, but she would have chosen me. She told me that, once. It was a very strange and wonderful feeling, being wanted that much, one I knew Daniel was very jealous of when I talked to him about it.

But Janet did speak up, however hesitantly, and I was glad. "At least until we can find her a better home," she'd said, smiling almost shyly at me. I was disappointed too, but I didn't want to be the reason for Sam's ruined career when she had so much she hadn't done yet, and so much she still wanted to do. I liked Dr. Frasier, and I knew I'd get along well with her. More, I knew she cared about me too, even if she wasn't as fiercely protective as Sam was. Then, I'd never given her the chance. Sam's strong relief that I had a good home with someone she trusted, in a place where she could still see me, and that she didn't have to sacrifice her job didn't entirely drown out her disappointment of giving up a chance to be a mother. I also think Janet understood that, even if she was wishing our bond wasn't quite so strong.

But it was, and it seemed especially hard for Sam. She told me how glad she was I was going to live with Janet, but it seemed letting go of our bond was even harder than letting it start to form. She cried a little, even, and tried to explain it away with the excuse of an eyelash in her eye. I only nodded – I think that was the wiser course than bringing up the truth. She swore I'd see her all the time, whenever she was on-world. And she was true to her word.

"Sam?"

Janet's call came from around the corner, interrupting our movie. Sam insisted that I had to see the Star Wars original trilogy, at least once, so we planned an all-night pizza and sugar movie night. So far we were on Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back. Strangely, as many bad things were happening, it was my favorite so far. Han Solo was at his wittiest, Princess Leia at her most irritable, and Luke Skywalker just human-like enough to make things interesting. We both looked up at Janet's call to see her in the corner of the room, holding out a mobile phone to Sam.

"Phone call."

Sam got up from her decidedly laid-back position on the couch, brushed my hair briefly, and took the phone from Janet, while I put the movie on pause. Even though Sam had stepped out into the hall, we could still hear every word of her part of the conversation.

"...Carter... Oh, hi, sir. What is it?"

I glanced curiously at Janet. "What does Jack want?"

She glanced back at me, then back to where Sam stood in the hall. "Well, if I had to guess, I'd say he wants her back."

"But he never had her. I thought you said because - "

"No, no, sweetheart," she said, blushing, glancing to check Sam hadn't heard. "I mean at the SGC."

"Well, sir, if I'd known you felt like that..."

I smirked. "Sounds like it to me."

"I'm touched. With all due respect, sir, can I say 'I told - '... Sorry, sir. I'll be there in a minute." Her tone turned suspicious. "You didn't touch or in any way hurt any of the 'blinky doohickeys', did you?" She sighed. "Alright, sir. Yeah. Bye."

Janet and I traded funny looks when Sam came back in, a little frustrated. "Apparently since I haven't tried to break into my lab in my downtime, the Colonel thought I was either mortally wounded or psychologically ill. I've been ordered to get my "ass back up to base" because the one time I take advantage of downtime, they say they need me there." She sighed. "Or maybe it's just too weird not seeing the lights on in the lab."

I grinned, and looked at her. "Is that all Jack wanted?"

"Cassie!" Janet burst out, but she was grinning guiltily, too.

Sam looked at us strangely, but decided not to comment after a moment."No, I've been ordered to bring a dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts up, but they all know I'll have to bring two or three so other people besides Teal'c have a chance at them." She smiled at me apologetically. "Sorry, Cass. Go on and watch the rest of the movies without me – I'm sure you can fill Janet in on what's happening." Janet looked at her, surprised. "Just make sure you keep her up all night on sugar highs, okay?"

"Got it." She hugged me, gave a sort of half hug to Janet, and grabbed her coat on her way out the door.

She stopped coming around so often after that, until we finally settled on our bimonthly chess game, except for a few common exceptions where me, Sam, and Janet, sometimes with even Daniel, Jack, and Teal'c, would go out or congregate somewhere. I think she and Janet had worked that out, so each got me two Saturdays out of the month. It was their way of sharing me. It only made Janet happier, and Sam had a better time with her job, a better handle on her emotions, and a better relationship with me and Janet after that. I wasn't entirely happy about it, but when I asked Sam about it, she said that she wasn't my mother or the one who was trusted with my care. I found out she wasn't entirely happy with it, either, but that's the sacrifice we both made. Now, I know it was the best choice.

Don't think I didn't get to see the rest of SG-1 at all, either. Those exceptions were really common. Daniel's been great to talk to ever since that first year,once I got comfortable around him. Teal'c's great, too. And Jack... once Sam commented how depressing it was how much he'd rubbed off on me. I told her to look at herself and the rest of her team, and then to come back and talk to me.

I did have a few problems with Janet – I feel sorry she got me right in time for puberty. Those first few weeks, it was so awkward - I had trouble deciding what to call her, and I was always trying to avoid any situation where I'd have to address her directly. She finally broke down and told me to call her "Janet", unless I felt comfortable calling her something else. And again, I felt lucky to have her, if I couldn't have Sam. I wasn't ready to call her "Mom". Any time we went out together, people naturally assumed we were mother and daughter. As much as a thrill it gave Janet (and I could tell she got a thrill), she always looked uncomfortable when it happened. She constantly explained nervously how she wasn't trying to take the place of Sam or my mother. I always nodded seriously along with her, the slightest bit amused inside. I did resent her a little, but I grew to love her, anyway. Not as mom, or as Sam. As Janet.

It wasn't until almost a year after I'd settled in with Janet, that I had another nightmare about my mother, even if the worst of them were gone.Apparently, Icalled out in my sleep for Mom, but the one who padded down into my room in her fuzzy slippers wasn't my mom, or Sam – but Janet.

I was scared, terrified out of my mind. The nightmares – it wasn't like them. It was different... but I wanted to wake up so bad. I needed to wake up. Everything was so dark and so disorienting... I needed mom... the only one who could ever make it go away.

Wherever I was standing shook slightly, and my head hurt, then began spinning. It got a little lighter, a little less confusing... and the world stopped spinning. Cassandra... Cassandra?

Mom...

"Cassandra – wake up, honey..."

"Mom?" My eyes blinked open suddenly, but the soft face above me wasn't my mother's... but somehow I didn't mind, too badly. Her brown eyes showed shock, then gentled, and her lips turned up. I stretched my arms up for her to hold me; surprised again, her eyebrows knitted together, before she reached back and held on tightly.

"It's okay... I'm here..."

From that time on, "Janet" was "Mom", unless I was having an argument or something with her and was specifically trying to hurt her. I never realized what a difference that would make; after that, she actually became like a true mother. She was so proud those first few weeks – I mean, she showed it more then, than she ever did. Instead of becoming uncomfortable when people mistook us for mother and daughter, she smiled, and only let her pride show. Instead, I became uncomfortable, and wondered if I'd done the right thing for both of us. From the day she became "mom" and on, she was so fiercely protective of me – I loved her more for it, deep inside. Albeit, very deep inside. It was so incredibly frustrating. Or was that just because I was officially a teenager?

I learned quickly what my limits were, what I could do without worrying her, and what emotionally hurt her. Never leave without telling her goodbye and that you loved her. Always call if you're going to be two hours late. Go to her if you have a problem. Never go to Sam with a problem before you went to her. Never start out a sentence with "But Sam - " or "If I lived with Sam..."

Now, if I had a fight with her about what Sam might or might not have said or let me do, left the house without telling her, didn't call or say when I was going to be home, and on top of it ran all the way to Sam's house, things really weren't good.

Yes, my pretties, Janet Frasier had a big jealous streak.

Before now, I never realized how much her "It's okay – I'm here" meant. At times, I only wanted her to leave me alone when she said that, even wanting Sam's "You're very brave" over that. But, if I'd been raised by Sam, I would have wanted Janet's comfort. Janet's comfortforced me to depend on her, to lean on her; Sam's let me know she was there, but told me to look in myself for the strength. That only reflects on their characters: Sam's militaristic closed personality, compared to Janet's more open emotions and her willingness to let people into her life. That's how my real mother raised me, and that's how Janet raised me.

So – how many Cassandra Carters are out there, now? It really makes you think. But then, Sam makes you think. I wonder if in those realities, I'm any better at physics, calculus, and trig? But I'm starting to realize it doesn't matter. Maybe it does to all the other Cassandras: the Cassandra Carters, the Cassandra Frasiers still with a Janet Frasier, the Cassandras who never came across Niirti, still with a biological mother, the dead Cassandras on Hanka who were never found by SG-1. But to this one, Janet Frasier is the one who really matters now. For all her protests against becoming my mother, I think she's succeeded. Now I'm eighteen and motherless again. Just of age to be on my own... but that doesn't matter either. All I really want right now is to hear her tell me it's okay. It's not, because she's not here to say it.

I close my eyes, hoping that the tears will go away if I shut them out. Sam's on the other side of the room, come to hang out with me in her downtime. I think she needed to see me as much as I needed to see her, even though we don't say anything. I will her not to notice me struggling with my emotions. You're very brave, I tell myself, trying to find it in me.

Against it all, Sam looks up when I can't hold back a sniffle. She looks so much older than when I first met her, and I remind myself I wasn't the only one to lose Janet. They were incredibly close friends, and their common relationship with me only made it all the stronger. I wait for Sam to tell me what I need to hear to keep my tears from showing, but she surprises me by getting up quickly and holding me tightly. I can't help it when they soak through her shirt. I'm startled when I feel her tears against my face, but her next words shock me even more:

"It's okay – I'm here."

And that, I decide, is what I really need to hear.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven…