A/N: This was a fun chapter to write. My beta, Verb, (check out her stories - great!) is trying to charge me for a box of tissues - so be aware!
Beth settled Rori in the guest room and left Jack and Daniel to flip a coin for the couch. Jack won. Daniel took a throw pillow from the couch and tried to get comfortable on the floor.
Images of the fear on Connor's face as Jason ran off with him flashed through Daniel's mind every time he closed his eyes. When he eventually began to drift off to sleep, Connor's face was replaced with Sha're's image, pleading with him to find her. He woke up with a start, covered in a cold sweat. All possibility of sleep now completely gone, he got up, wandered through the small condo and found himself on the deck off the kitchen.
He hadn't had a dream like that since Sha're died. Right now he wished he smoked – he could sure use the distraction. He took a deep breath and let his eyes rise to the night sky. There was a time in his life when the stars had simply been…well…stars. Beautiful, big balls of burning gases. Constellations that told stories of heroes and gods. But then he'd opened the stargate and found Abydos – Sha're. Someplace out there, on an obscure planet orbiting one of those stars, his life had come to a stop. Yes, he was still alive, but it wasn't much of a life. He thought of Rori, who had Connor – he was certain they'd get him back. She had someone to love. That's really all he wanted; someone to love.
He closed his eyes and allowed himself a wishful glimpse of a life with a family. A wife, a couple of children. Love. Home. Leaning his elbows on the deck railing, he lowered his head into his hands. Heart empty, head pounding, he mourned for the life he'd been denied; for companionship, for security, for passion. He had rescued Sarah from her Goa'uld, but failed the only person in the universe he'd been responsible for, and feelings of inadequacy he had harbored all those years came tumbling back. He wanted a family, children, but he couldn't even protect a grown woman. What made him think he deserved children? He hadn't been able to protect Connor; to keep him safe. Maybe the "fates" were right – he didn't deserve anyone.
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Rori couldn't get comfortable. Neither the painful pulsing in her arm, nor her empty heart would let her. She finally gave up and decided to take the pain medication Janet had given her. Disentangling herself from the sheets, she retrieved the bottle of pills from her bag and pattered into the kitchen for a glass of water. She found a clean glass and was filling it when a shadow moved just outside the window and caught her eye. Unnerved, the glass slipped through her fingers and fell into the sink, shattering it.
The shadow turned and ran into the kitchen. Rori backed herself into the corner and tried to disappear in the dark recesses of the cupboards.
Daniel heard the water running in the sink and reached over to turn it off. He found the bottle of pills next to the sink and read her name on the bottle.
"Rori? It's me, Daniel. Are you all right?" Daniel's soothing voice floated softly though the night shadows.
Rori's heart pounded so hard, she barely heard Daniel's quiet words. Daniel flipped on the muted light over the sink and saw her sheltered in the shadows.
Her face buried in the corner, her back to Daniel, she shuddered. He continued to walk over toward her, murmuring softly all the while. Finally within her reach, he tentatively touched her shoulder. "Rori. Turn around. You're safe."
His gesture and voice finally penetrated the haze of her fear and she opened her eyes.
"Rori, it's fine. No one's here but us." Knowing that she was only marginally aware of who he was, he pulled a handful of flowing tresses away from her eyes. "Look at me."
She turned around and flung herself into the safety of Daniel's arms. "Oh, god, Daniel! I thought he had found me! I just keep seeing him take my baby every time I close my eyes. I can't do this any longer. I won't survive if I don't find my son." Overcome by despair, Rori slid down Daniel's body and became a trembling heap at his feet.
Daniel slid down the wall onto the floor beside her and then pulled her into his lap, rocking her. He rubbed comforting circles on her back and murmured serenely in her ear. He waited out the wracking sobs, shifting her occasionally to bring her closer.
Her head tucked under his chin, the sobs quieted. "God, Daniel. I can't think about anything else. I can't see anything else. I can only hear his cries for me as Jason carried him away. When will this go away? How can I live like this?"
Daniel shifted her so that her bound arm was free from pressure. "It never goes away, completely. For the rest of your life – even after we get him back – you'll relive that scene in your nightmares. You'll see him call your name and reach for you. And you'll be helpless to save him."
Daniel took in a shaky, deep breath and let it out lethargically. "You'll learn to live with it. The sharp, intense pain will be replaced by a throbbing ache that will become a part of you. It will live down deep in your soul, coloring your life, and surface when you least expect it."
He cradled her head against his shoulder, unconsciously twirling a lock of her hair in his fingers; something he had done a thousand times with Sha're. "You'll think you're over it, happy, laughing, and suddenly, you'll see someone who reminds you. And then you'll lose your breath and the pain will return, sharp and jagged, and you'll struggle to keep your legs from folding beneath you. Your nights will be unending, while you rerun his life in your head and wonder what you could have done to save him."
Daniel pressed his cheek against the cushion of her hair. "You'll find guilt welling up and seizing you by the throat, choking you. You won't be able to look at another child or think about loving another child without feeling gut wrenching guilt. Peace will become elusive. Friends will try to help, but they won't be able to pierce the pervading fog of loss. You'll be alone."
His tears dampened her hair now. "When you get him back - and I promise you, Jack and I will do anything we have to do to get him back – your joy will be muted by the fear that it could happen again."
Daniel's deep sorrow had penetrated through Rori's and she recognized another soul in pain. "Who did you lose?"
"My wife." Daniel closed his eyes and he could almost smell Sha're's exotic scent – just beyond his senses. His voice became harsh as he tried to control the urge to sob. "She was possessed by a Goa'uld. I joined SG1 so I could look for her. I found her once, and she was taken again. Finally, after two-and-a-half years of searching, she was killed in front of me. That was four years ago."
Jack, who had been awakened by the breaking glass, stood in the hallway, just outside of the kitchen door and heard Daniel's confession of loss. He hadn't realized that Daniel was still mourning Sha're. Daniel always insisted he'd learned to live with it and had moved on. But thinking about it, Jack couldn't remember ever seeing Daniel laughing with joy. There was always a layer of sorrow floating beneath everything he experienced. Jack understood this – he lived with it everyday himself. He'd just never realized how guilty Daniel felt about Sha're's loss. When Jack heard Daniel urging Rori to try to sleep, he moved back toward the living room and his couch, frowning with empathy for both Daniel and Rori.
"Come on. Let's get you that pain medication and then it's back to bed for you." Daniel helped Rori stand. He cleaned up the broken glass in the sink while she got another glass of water and swallowed the pill.
"Daniel. I know this is going to sound wrong, but stay with me tonight. I just can't bear to be alone."
Daniel looked into Rori's sorrow-filled eyes. Blue. Her eyes are blue when she's sad. He nodded, flicked out the light and followed her to the guest room.
They climbed into the twin bed, Daniel on his side up against the wall with Rori facing him, her head cradled on his arm. He pulled her close, laid his head against her hair and the two pain-wracked souls found release in sleep, intertwined in each other.