Epilogue
Janet Fraiser stood on the east face of Cheyenne Mountain and watched the sun rise. It surprised her, sometimes, that she could still find beauty in this world, but sunrises always made her feel better. They made her feel more like a doctor.
Griff had been right. She had killed again. She had been ruthless. And each time she'd done it, another part of her had died. Standing here, on this mountain, knowing that the Aschen were gone and that a treaty between Human, Aschen and Asgard prevented their return, she knew that it had been worth it. But that didn't make her any less of a killer.
"You're beginning to show, you know," Jacob said softly from behind her as she looked out at the rising sun. "You're not going to be able to conceal it much longer."
"I know," she replied. In six months, she'd lived a lifetime and much of that time she had forgotten that her responsibility to this life would not end with the end of her war.
"Who is the father?" Jacob had his suspicions, but asked anyway.
"Daniel," came the soft, half expected answer.
"You've worked a miracle, Janet," he told her. "You took a conquered planet and made it fight back."
"It hasn't gone to my head, if that's what you're worried about."
"That's not why I worry about you."
She turned to face him, eyes full of tears. The birds sang out in their welcome of the dawn.
"I'm so tired, Jacob. I'm so tired," her voice cracked. "I thought I could justify all the death, all the suffering, ours and theirs, but I just don't think that way."
"I know. Military doctors always face this. Most don't have to deal with it though, because they never have to do what you did. Very few people will ever understand what their freedom cost you, but that doesn't make it worth less, and it doesn't lessen the gratitude they will give you." He held her gaze. "They will understand if you disappear."
"Don't tempt me, Jacob. I can't. Not yet."
"I know."
They looked out at the sunrise and the planet that was theirs again.
"What are you going to name it?"
"I don't know," she placed a hand on her abdomen and gave a small, sad smile. "There are so many choices."
..................
Finis
A Note On Janet Fraiser
It took me a very long time to fall in love with Janet Fraiser. I think part of it is that I have never seen "Hathor" and most of it is that Star Trek has given me a very warped view of the way TV doctors should be. Still, here I found myself writing a story not only about Dr. Fraiser, but about what makes her Dr. Fraiser.
There were times in this story when I sort of wished that Dr. Fraiser was a man. I think that "her" breakdown would have been more effective that way. I really struggled with it, because I wanted to get it across that she didn't balk because she was a woman, she balked because she was a doctor. Then, I remembered that McKay had been shot, and I saw my way out. I'm pretty sure it worked.
I am also inordinately proud of the Thursday speech. I muttered it to myself at work and then scrambled to write it down with a dying pen on a too small piece of paper. I didn't change a word of it, and I choke up every time I read over it. I really like the "oath" part.
Janet and I had a good trip in this story. She broke my heart and made me cry, and she filled me with a sense of, well, something positive. I hope you had as good a time as I did.
Janet Fraiser stood on the east face of Cheyenne Mountain and watched the sun rise. It surprised her, sometimes, that she could still find beauty in this world, but sunrises always made her feel better. They made her feel more like a doctor.
Griff had been right. She had killed again. She had been ruthless. And each time she'd done it, another part of her had died. Standing here, on this mountain, knowing that the Aschen were gone and that a treaty between Human, Aschen and Asgard prevented their return, she knew that it had been worth it. But that didn't make her any less of a killer.
"You're beginning to show, you know," Jacob said softly from behind her as she looked out at the rising sun. "You're not going to be able to conceal it much longer."
"I know," she replied. In six months, she'd lived a lifetime and much of that time she had forgotten that her responsibility to this life would not end with the end of her war.
"Who is the father?" Jacob had his suspicions, but asked anyway.
"Daniel," came the soft, half expected answer.
"You've worked a miracle, Janet," he told her. "You took a conquered planet and made it fight back."
"It hasn't gone to my head, if that's what you're worried about."
"That's not why I worry about you."
She turned to face him, eyes full of tears. The birds sang out in their welcome of the dawn.
"I'm so tired, Jacob. I'm so tired," her voice cracked. "I thought I could justify all the death, all the suffering, ours and theirs, but I just don't think that way."
"I know. Military doctors always face this. Most don't have to deal with it though, because they never have to do what you did. Very few people will ever understand what their freedom cost you, but that doesn't make it worth less, and it doesn't lessen the gratitude they will give you." He held her gaze. "They will understand if you disappear."
"Don't tempt me, Jacob. I can't. Not yet."
"I know."
They looked out at the sunrise and the planet that was theirs again.
"What are you going to name it?"
"I don't know," she placed a hand on her abdomen and gave a small, sad smile. "There are so many choices."
..................
Finis
A Note On Janet Fraiser
It took me a very long time to fall in love with Janet Fraiser. I think part of it is that I have never seen "Hathor" and most of it is that Star Trek has given me a very warped view of the way TV doctors should be. Still, here I found myself writing a story not only about Dr. Fraiser, but about what makes her Dr. Fraiser.
There were times in this story when I sort of wished that Dr. Fraiser was a man. I think that "her" breakdown would have been more effective that way. I really struggled with it, because I wanted to get it across that she didn't balk because she was a woman, she balked because she was a doctor. Then, I remembered that McKay had been shot, and I saw my way out. I'm pretty sure it worked.
I am also inordinately proud of the Thursday speech. I muttered it to myself at work and then scrambled to write it down with a dying pen on a too small piece of paper. I didn't change a word of it, and I choke up every time I read over it. I really like the "oath" part.
Janet and I had a good trip in this story. She broke my heart and made me cry, and she filled me with a sense of, well, something positive. I hope you had as good a time as I did.