AN: So sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! I started school and quickly remembered why I'd put off finishing for so long! I'm hoping to have this story completed before fall term starts, but no promises. Please let me know what you think! :-)
"Dear Daniel,"
Sam stared at the words on her computer screen and took a deep breath. That was the easy part.
She'd started keeping a diary of sorts during her first year in SG-1. She'd found that writing mission reports allowed her to organize her professional thoughts after the dangerous adventures she and the team had embarked on. They did nothing, though, for her emotions. Doing what they did, facing what they faced on a regular basis... it was enough to drive a person insane. She'd been consumed with the rawness of her emotions after the first few missions, and she knew she needed a way to cope with it all. The scientist in her needed to catalog it and dissect it. She needed to get it all out on paper.
She always found time to complete her entries, regardless of her work load. It became a necessary part of her life. After a year she found she couldn't even sleep after a mission until she'd put it all into perspective. That was, of course, until Daniel died.
She'd tried for days to put anything, anything at all, into words. She tried writing about the early part of the mission, before it had all gone so terribly wrong. But all she could do was stare at the blank screen as tears poured from her eyes. Her fingers refused to move as the horrible images of his bleeding, bandaged, dying body played over and over in her mind. So she abandoned the cause.
Their next mission took them to Adara and Hiemdall's lab. Naturally, they'd all put their lives on the line and Thor had ended up in a coma. It was another exhausting mission and her emotions were a mess. She was struggling so much with Daniel's death, and now Thor might be lost forever. She knew what she had to do, and finally, blessedly, she found she could write.
She'd gasped as she read the screen. Instead of writing "Dear Diary," as she had always done, she'd written "Dear Daniel." His name caught her off guard, and fresh tears stung her eyes. She would never be able to communicate with him again, but maybe, in this way, she could keep their friendship alive.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world, to tell Daniel all her secrets. So she did. She wrote pages and pages about his death, his bravery, and, mostly, how much she missed him with every fiber of her being. As she did so, she imagined what his responses would be and found that she was more comforted than she'd ever thought possible.
It was the same with every entry. There were times when SG-1 was on a mission and she couldn't wait to tell "Daniel" all about it. It made her feel like he was still there, still with her wherever she went.
Even after he returned to the team, she continued writing to "Daniel." She never asked herself why. She just kept pouring out her heart to him mission after mission.
It was no different now that she was in Atlantis. It had been an odd few days, but in a very good way. She'd known from the moment she stepped through the gate that this was going to be the most difficult challenge she'd ever faced, and she hadn't been disappointed. She needed to regroup, and writing in her diary seemed the perfect way to do so.
I don't know what I've gotten myself into. The staff has been, for the most part, cordial and accepting. I'm still an outsider, even to the people who knew me before. John seems to look at me differently, but that's to be expected. I'm his commanding officer now. Is it okay that saying that still feels strange?
Rodney has been... well, Rodney! He's still arrogant, but in a more relaxed sort of way. I think Atlantis has been good for him, and I'm very much looking forward to working with him here.
Perhaps it's a by product of spending so many years as part of SG-1, but I find myself forming a special relationship with the member's of John's team. They are all brilliant at what they do, but their feelings for Elizabeth are so strong. Her loss is evident everywhere I turn. I saw it in John's eyes when he showed me to her office. Even now, it's not my office. Not yet. I know that it's not personal. Still, I can't help but feeling like some sort of invader.
Ronan Dex took the change especially hard. He wanted to resign, which put me in a tough spot. It felt very much like I was a teacher on the first day of school, and he was that kid who has to test the waters right away. The whole situation got worse before it got better. (Not surprising in the least, since the Stargate program is involved.) But in the end we came to respect each other, and I know I'm going to enjoy working with him.
I'm having trouble sleeping here. No matter how hard I try, it doesn't feel like home yet. I'm not used to the salt air that permeates every room of this place. The first time I visited here I wondered why the Ancient technology couldn't do a better job of scrubbing it from the air, but now I know. They liked it. I'm growing to like it, too, but it's still so new.
You'll be happy to know that I didn't think about Jack for the first 48 hours. When I realized how long it'd been, it was bittersweet. I know I'll be able to put the pain behind me, but with it will go my dreams and a part of me wants to keep holding on.
I really should go to bed now. I haven't opened your present yet, in case you were wondering. When I do, I'll be sure to let you know.
Good night,
Sam
* * * *
Dear Daniel,
What a week! I'm not even sure I know where to begin. I definitely feel "broken in."
John's team encountered an alien race that lives in crystals. Yep, you guessed it. Not a good thing! Unlike the race we encountered, this race seems bent on destruction. It traveled back through the gate inside Sheppard's body, and transferred from team member to team member, eventually making its way to the electrical systems of the city. It caused those carrying it to have terribly realistic nightmares featuring John that literally terrified the base. It even caused the death of one of the Expedition members.
I was scared, Daniel. I always am when my people's lives are on the line.
Before you say anything, don't get me wrong. I know I'm a good leader. I know when to be strong, and I know how to use my gut in situations like these. I've honed my senses over the years, and I don't second guess myself.
No, my fear is not that I've made the wrong decision; it's that I don't know all the consequences of the right decision. Only time will tell if my fear is founded.
I'm settling in better now. Still not sleeping too well, but that's not just the new location. I also have piles of work to do. I've forgotten how much paperwork comes with a command, let alone a command of this size. I've finally caught up on the current mission reports and I've completed my first set of IOA briefings. I've met all the staff and had meetings with the department heads, and I'm beginning to feel like one day I might actually know what I'm doing.
I rearranged my office so that it feels more like my space than Elizabeth's. John didn't like it at first. Not that he said anything. I could just tell. He wasn't the only one, either. But it was the right thing to do. They've got to start thinking of me as a permanent member of the team so that we can build our trust. It's the only way I'll be able to do my job.
I thought about you today. The software from the virtual reality pods we took from P7J-989 gave us the solution we needed to confront the alien entity. As I watched Rodney and John battle an enemy in their subconscious minds, I couldn't help remembering the day we watched your parents die again and again. It remains one of my most horrendous memories to date. I wanted so badly to make it all stop, to make your pain go away.
I remember the talk we shared after that mission. It was the first time I'd talked about my mom's death in so long, but I felt it was only right to share that pain with you as you shared yours with me. I remember how you turned to me and told me that you think of your parents every time we encounter a new planet. You told me about how they were always in awe of the wonders of the world, and how badly you wished you could share with them all that you've seen. I didn't tell you then, but all I could think about was how glad I was that I got to share it all with you.
I wish you were here now. You, Teal'c, Mitchell and Vala. It feels wrong somehow to be doing this on my own.
I was very tempted to open your present today, but I knew it wasn't the right time. Something tells me I'm going to miss you a lot more in the weeks to come.
I think I'll go see if there's any food left. I worked through dinner and now I'm paying the price. I know, I know. I'll eat right tomorrow, I promise.
Hugs,
Sam
* * * *
"Please make sure any files you wish to be included in the data-burst to Earth are properly labeled, encrypted, and stored in the mainframe before noon today. Any files not transferred on time will not be sent until the next regularly scheduled check-in."
Sam heard the warning over the comm system and reminded herself that she still had the mornings files to transfer. She had thirty minutes to go, but every time she sat down to take care of it something called her away. Now she was down to the wire.
She hastily highlighted the desired files on her desktop and made sure they were all properly encrypted. A beep in her ear, followed by the voice of Jennifer Keller requesting her, interrupted the process. Sam touched her ear piece and listened as they doctor updated her on the condition of Major Reynolds. After listening intently, Sam thanked her and turned back to work.
Realizing she'd lost even more time, she set about her task with renewed haste, only to be interrupted a moment later by Rodney. He was complaining about Zelenka's files not being properly compressed, which Sam interpreted to mean Zelenka's files were taking up more space the Rodney's. She sighed, told him she was confident that Dr. Zelenka understood the compression requirements and removed her earpiece so she couldn't be interrupted again.
She once again selected the files and worked through the process of moving them to the main server. She glanced at her watch and quickly went to the operations deck. It was exactly noon.
"Dial it up, Major."
"Yes, ma'am."
Sam went through the routine check-in procedures. No sooner had the wormhole disconnected than she was called away again, this time to deal with some fluctuations in the power grid. She spent the day in a blur of mundane activity. She fell asleep exhausted that night, never once suspecting that her diary files had accidentally been sent to the SGC.
