Daughter of My Heart, Chapter Two
[Spans between the end of "Singularity", and the end of "Solitudes"]
For the first time since leaving her home, Cassandra was allowed to see her new planet. It was nothing like what she'd expected.
Instead of the wide open fields of home, dotted with the scattered houses, barns, and storehouses of her village, the ground was hard and black, filled with strange shapes in a myriad of colours, all glinting in the morning sun. There were no houses or barns anywhere in sight, just the imposing military complex behind them.
Wire fencing held back what trees and grass she could see, as if to protect them from this strange world.
"Come on," Sam said softly, leading her by the hand to one of the coloured shapes. "You'll like it better where we're going."
Silently, Cassandra went along, gingerly climbing into the back of the shape that must belong to Sam.
"It's called a car," Sam explained, settling into the front behind a black wheel. "This is how we get from one place to another." The car rumbled to life, startling Cassandra, and soon they were winding their way down a long steep hill, toward more black ground filled with speeding cars.
Down here there was life, with more houses along the way than Cassandra could ever have imagined, stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction as they sped along. But still, there wasn't a field or forest to be seen.
They stopped a short while later, pulling up alongside another wire fence holding all the trees in. But there were a lot more trees and grass here than she'd seen along the way.
"This is a park," Sam said, grinning, as she helped Cassandra out of the car. "This is where children come to play."
Cassandra could understand why. It was a lot more inviting than most of the small plots of grass each house seemed to have.
Sam led her through an opening in the fence, across the welcoming green expanse.
"What's that?," Cassandra gasped, pointing.
"That," Sam said, laughing, "is a playground."
Children of all ages climbed, slid, swung and dug all around the brightly coloured equipment, laughing and squealing as if to prove just how much fun it was.
"Can I play too?," Cassandra asked, half-way expecting to be told that there was too much work to be done at home for such things.
"Of course," Sam said, guiding her closer to the playground.
Cassandra had never seen anything like it on Hanka. Not that children didn't play in her village. There was always time to run and chase when the chores were done, and in the weeks following harvest, when the fields lay empty and the food was all safely stored for the coming season. During that lull, the village children would often come together for more elaborate games.
But this, this was something else altogether.
Sam led her around, explaining how everything worked. Cassandra tried it all, slides and monkey bars, swings and ladders. For the briefest time, it felt like there wasn't a care in the world, no chores to be done or time better spent elsewhere. She laughed as she hadn't laughed since coming to this strange planet, with it's grey walls and black, lifeless ground.
When she could climb and swing no more, she flopped down beside Sam on a bench, breathless. "I like it here," she said, and Sam laughed.
"C'mon," Sam said, rising to her feet and pulling Cassandra up to. "Let me show you the house."
Sam bit her lip nervously as she led Cassandra through her home. It felt too clean, too unused for a child, but Janet and the rest of SG-1 had helped pick out some more family-oriented items for Cassandra's homecoming.
Brightly coloured throws had been added to her sofa, a small stack of kid-friendly movies beside the TV. In the kitchen, Colonel O'Neill had insisted on a collection of cheerful plastic cups with curly straws, along with an almost alarming stockpile of kid-approved snacks and breakfast foods. Janet had cleared a shelf in Sam's bathroom for a rhinestone hairbrush, and clips, elastics and headbands in every shape and colour for Cassandra's long hair. Nestled snugly amongst the hair accessories was a new purple toothbrush for the little girl.
The guest room, however, was the most changed. While the walls were still a very neutral eggshell white, the bed was now covered with a bright patchwork comforter and fluffy pillows for snuggling. A small bookshelf had been added to the room and filled (by Daniel) with every book a twelve-year-old child might ever need. There were encyclopedias and a dictionary, a thesaurus, an impressive collection of children-friendly books on science, nature, and world history, and a small stack of novels the saleslady had recommended to him for a young girl. Janet had brought over a small desk from her place to sit opposite the bed, and had filled the cubby with paper, crayons, pencil crayons, markers, and Sam wasn't sure what all else for Cassandra to explore. Above the desk the Colonel had mounted a corkboard to hang artwork, and to the left, perched on top of the dresser, Teal'c had added the largest pink teddy bear Sam had ever seen. Sam and Janet had also filled the dresser and closet with all the clothes a little girl could need.
"I know there're probably still some things you'll need," Sam was saying nervously, as the young girl took in her surroundings, "but we can pick those out together."
"Is this really all for me?," Cassandra asked, in awe.
"Uh huh," Sam replied, still nervous. "Do you like it?"
Cassandra beamed, crawling up onto the double bed and grabbing a book. "Will you read to me?," she asked, and Sam felt herself relax.
"Absolutely," she said, climbing up beside Cassandra.
Daniel stood nervously on the doorstep, a thousand childhood memories of new homes, new families, clamouring to be recalled.
As if losing his own parents hadn't been trauma enough. He'd hated all the moving, the uncertainty, the constant sense of loss. He'd been through twelve foster homes before he was finally old enough to move out. To move on.
And now here he was, once again on the brink of adjusting to a new family, a new routine, wondering how Sha're would feel if she knew what he'd done, what he'd agreed to do.
Daniel sighed. She'd probably be proud, he thought wistfully. It wasn't in her nature to let someone go without, wasn't in the nature of the Abydonians. They were a community in the truest sense, each individual looking out for the rest. Helping to care for an orphaned child...it would have been second nature to any one of the people Daniel had finally come to call family.
In a sense, he owed it to her, to his wife, as much as he owed it to himself and all his childhood ghosts to give Cassandra whatever he could of his time and affection, and make sure she could stay with the person who wanted her most.
"Going in?," Dr. Fraiser asked gently from behind him, startling him from his thoughts.
"Uh, yeah," Daniel stammered, finally working up the nerve to ring the bell. The doctor smiled, patting his arm reassuringly. She was probably the only person on base who knew his file inside and out, knew the thoughts that haunted him now.
"We can do this," she said, staring straight ahead at the door. "She won't have to lose another family again."
Daniel smiled wanly, hoping she was right. Then Sam opened the door, smiling brightly, and the two newcomers trooped inside for their first meal together as a surrogate family.
The three colleagues settled into a routine with Cassandra faster than anyone could have expected, and Cassie, so solemn and withdrawn when they'd first met her, soon bubbled over with the natural delights of childhood, smiling and laughing often as her three guardians taught her about life on Earth. Daniel and Janet came over for dinner every Friday night, keeping up with the events in Cassie's life, her progress with the Air Force appointed tutor, and her excitement to be starting real school, with kids her own age, in just a few more weeks. And both dropped by throughout the week as well, Daniel always with a new book in hand, Janet with surprise meals after a grueling day at the SGC.
Sam was nearly overwhelmed by the support of two people she quickly began to think of as good friends, and even more so by the obvious joy and love Cassandra radiated every time she walked through the door.
She'd never thought much of having a family, but this odd and unexpected collection of people were quickly becoming more important to her than anyone else had ever been.
Especially Cassandra.
Within just a few short weeks, Sam could feel their initial bond strengthen and grow, pulling them closer together as they each adjusted to this new life, getting to know each other better and better with every passing day.
Although Cassandra still called her 'Sam', and she had no intention of pressuring her into calling her anything else, by the end of the first month Sam already thought of her as a daughter, the greatest gift she'd ever received.
It pained Sam to have to leave her behind, to walk daily into the uncertainties of the SGC, and the even greater unknowns of the wider universe, but General Hammond had been right. She was needed on base as well, if they were ever going to find the means to defeat the Goa'uld once and for all.
And now the fight was personal.
With only a few hiccoughs, General Hammond had worked it out so that Sam and Janet worked, for the most part, opposing shift rotations, allowing one or the other to always be available for Cassandra. And Daniel, for his part, always made himself available to cover overlaps in their shifts, as well as base emergencies.
Both had set space aside for Cassandra in their own homes, for those rare and grueling occasions when Sam would be off-world, or spend the night on base.
Everything was going well, until, all of a sudden, it wasn't.
Laying beside her incoherent superior officer, Sam felt panic rising once more. They couldn't die. She couldn't die. She had to get back to Cassie. Had to reassure her that everything was okay, she was safe, they were safe, the Goa'uld couldn't hurt her anymore.
She'd lost track of how many days they'd spent on this ice planet, but it didn't look good.
She couldn't fix the DHD.
Colonel O'Neill was bleeding internally, and rapidly losing his sense of reality.
Teal'c and Daniel were nowhere to be found.
Sam was certain that without rescue, they were going to die. She curled in closer to her CO, knowing she should sleep, but afraid it would be for the last time.
Hammond had been right, she thought, her heart breaking. Her job was too high-risk. She couldn't give Cassandra what she needed.
Even if she survived, she was going to lose her little girl. She could feel it in the depths of her soul, the aching knowledge that she had failed, right when it mattered the most.
She was MIA, just three days before their one-month review.
Sam cried herself to sleep, grieving for Cassandra, for herself, for a future they would never have.
Wondering if Janet would take her in permanently, and give her the home she deserved.
Sam flitted in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware of rescue, of hope, of renewed grief as she realized nothing had changed, she'd still almost cost Cassandra another mother-figure. As if anyone should ever have to lose more than one.
"You gave us quite a scare," Janet said as Sam came to once more.
"Cassie...?"
"She's alright. A little worried, but I'll bring her in at the end of my shift to see you," she reassured.
"They're not going to let me keep her after this, are they?," Sam asked, turning away from the doctor's sympathetic gaze.
"I don't know," Janet replied softly. "But we knew the risks going in. And she has been settling in well with you."
Sam shook her head, tears silently rolling down her face. "It's not enough, is it? A single parent in a high-risk career?"
Janet laid a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder. "You're not alone, remember?," she said softly. "She'll always have Dr. Jackson and myself to fall back on. I promise."
Sam nodded tearfully, wishing she could believe. Desperate to believe.
The doctor left quietly to finish her rounds, leaving Sam alone with her thoughts once more.
"Sam!," Cassie cried, running toward her.
Sam held her arms out, hugging the girl tight as she landed on the bed beside her.
"I've missed you," she said, snuggling close.
"I've missed you too," Sam replied, kissing her lightly on the head.
"Dr. Fraiser taught me how to make spaghetti," the girl announced brightly. "And Daniel came over every night to tell me stories about how my people came to Hanka."
"Wow," Sam replied, a little stunned. "So a lot happened while I was gone, huh?"
Cassie shook her head. "Not really," she confessed. "Just that."
Sam chuckled softly, holding her close. "I love you, you know that?," she said, kissing Cassie's head once more. Cassie beamed.
"I love you too," she replied, resting her head on Sam's shoulder. "And I'm really glad you're back," she murmured, closing her eyes as they snuggled close.
"Me too," Sam whispered.
The worry would have to wait. Right now, she just needed to be close to the girl who had stolen her heart.