Bringing Down His Barriers
By Mickey

Status: Completed 9/21/2008

Categories: Angst, Drama, Episode Tag, Friendship, POV

Word Count: 3,344

Author's Notes: I've been wanting to write a chapter from Cassie's PoV since I started this season, but I just never seemed to be able to find the right time in the story. Well, here it is. Many thanks, as always, to my beta reader, Cyn. Thanks, also for help with the title. Any mistakes now are my own.

Yes! It's Friday and school's out. The best part is there's some kind of teacher thing on Monday, so it'll be a long weekend. Finally, some time with Uncle Jack. Some of my friends think it's silly that I still call him uncle. After all, he's not really my uncle and I'm not a little kid anymore. I don't care what they think when it comes to that. I love him like an uncle and he spoils me like a niece. Oh, he doesn't buy me expensive gifts or anything like that. We just like to do a lot of the same things. He takes me ice-skating and to hockey and baseball games and to the zoo. Sometimes we stay home all day just watching movies or sports games. Occasionally, he even lets me do stuff Mom never would. Like having ice cream sundaes or banana splits and other junk food at three AM while watching horror movies or having double chocolate chip waffles for dinner or just stay in my pajamas all day. We also have a lot of fun together, even when we're just staying home and not doing anything at all.

Between me going to school and his work, we don't get to see each other much. Especially when he gets hurt or sick which has been happening waaaay to often. I am so looking forward to this weekend. Luckily, I don't have to pack much. Uncle Jack lets me keep some of my stuff at his place just in case an emergency comes up and I have to stay with him. I have some stuff at Sam's place too. I rarely stayed with Daniel, but I did have an outfit at his place too. I really miss him.

Uncle Jack won't admit it, but he really misses Daniel too. The whole ascension thing really bothers him. I don't know much about it. Just what Mom has told me. Basically, Daniel somehow asked Uncle Jack to get General Carter to stop healing him so he could die, ascend . . . whatever. I wish he'd talk to me. I know I can help him if he'd just let me.

Everyone seems to think everything is going to be all hunky-dory now that Mom has let him back to work (or at least that's the impression they're giving me), especially since the barbecue went so well, but I'm not buying it. For one thing, I know something went down last weekend. Uncle Jack, Mom and Sergeant Grmek were in the house alone too long. All the other adults came out looking worried. They all think I didn't notice, but I did. I knew they wouldn't tell me anything anyway, so I stayed with the other kids and kept them busy so they wouldn't notice that something was up and get scared. Which is another reason that I want to go over there. I just have this feeling that he's going to need somebody, although he'll never admit it. He's so damn stubborn sometimes. It gets really aggravating. Even though he's nowhere near as bad as Mom and Sam, he treats me like a little kid sometimes too. I know him well enough to see the signs when he's withdrawing into himself.

Do they really believe that going back on light duty is going to make everything all better? I think all of them, even Uncle Jack, are fooling themselves. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt. Maybe it'll help him some, probably not though. I know General Hammond will flood him with paper work to "keep him busy" and to "keep his mind occupied". The thing is, and they all know this, what Uncle Jack hates with a passion is paper work. Most likely, he spends half the day pestering Sam in her lab and a good part of the rest of the day daydreaming. Or dwelling on what was done to him. I seriously doubt he'll actually get much work done.

Being around a lot of people will probably only agitate him. He knows they all mean well, but all the attention he's bound to have gotten, especially the first day or two, will just make him want to be alone even more.

I hope I'm wrong. I'm praying that I'll get there and he'll be his normal chipper, mildly annoying self. That we'll do all the stuff we usually do together and that haunted look he tried to hide from me when I said goodbye last weekend will be gone. This is one time I'd love to be proven wrong. I just don't see it happening. He sounded a kinda off when I called last night to make sure nothing had come up to keep me from being able to visit. I can't put my finger on what it was, he just sounded different. Maybe he will get a lot of paper work done, as much as he despises it, he does know how important it is and can really knock it out when he puts his mind to it. Only time will tell.

I grab my favorite stuffed dog, Stitch, and throw him in my duffle bag. My favorite jean shorts and my bathing suit follow it. Last, I throw in a tank top and my sandals. I hope the rain holds off, we're supposed to go to the lake tomorrow afternoon. Slinging my duffle bag and backpack over my shoulder and bound down the stairs like an over excited five year-old. I drop my bags on the floor and quickly check Boomer's food and water bowls, Mom's working late tonight and I don't want him to run out before she gets home. That done; I take him out back so he can do his business. Once we're back inside I give him a scratch and a kiss goodbye then grab my stuff, lock the doors and head out front to wait for Uncle Jack to pick me up.

x x x x x x x x x x x x

Tonight is one of our "let's see how much junk food we can eat before we puke" nights. We're having ice cream sundaes, potato chips, soda, nachos and chocolate peanut butter chunk cookies. Oh yeah, and pizza. Can't forget the pizza. "Uncle Jack, do you want Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, Peanut Butter Fudge Ripple or Tin Roof Sundae ice cream?" I call out from the kitchen. Knowing him, he'll probably want some of all three. Mom really restricts his diet when he gets hurt or sick. Once the restrictions are lifted, he can really pig out. As I wait for his answer, I start making my banana split. Banana already cut up, I put the pieces in the bowl and start scooping out the ice cream. By the time I'm done, he still hasn't answered my question and that worries me. He always answers quickly.

He's been unusually quiet today. Distant. No wise cracks. No bad jokes. No busting on Jonas and his weird obsessions. There was a haunted look to his eyes when he picked me up, but he seemed okay on the car ride here, asked me a few questions about school and stuff. For the last half hour or so, however, he hasn't said more than two words to me. I walk into the living room where, when I left a little bit ago, he was setting up the chips and stuff. Right now he's sitting on the couch staring at the TV. Normally that wouldn't be anything unusual, but the TV is off.

I stop a few feet from him. "Uncle Jack?" No answer. It's almost as if he doesn't hear me. I walk closer and try again, "Uncle Jack are you okay?" Still no answer. This isn't good. I've seen him zone out before, though it's been a while since that's happened, and realize that it isn't the TV he's staring at now, but something only he can see. I reach out slowly and put a hand on his shoulder.

That was a really, really boneheaded move on my part. I should have known better. I can be such an idiot sometimes.

Before I have a chance to blink, Uncle Jack has me down on the floor with my arm pinned painfully behind my back and his knee planted firmly in the lower part of my spine. He says something in a language I don't understand that I have a sinking suspicion translates roughly as "move and I'll break your arm" or something like that. I can't help the whimper that escapes my lips. "Oww, oww, oww, Uncle Jack, please, you're hurting me."

That seems to snap him out of it and he jumps up quickly. He looks me with a look of fear and self-loathing. Blinks a few times, opens his mouth then shuts it then does it again. After a few seconds, he says, "Cassie, call your Mom. I think you should go home." He stares at me so intently, it's a bit unnerving.

Well, that came out of left field. Sure, that little episode was kinda scary. Okay, a lot scary, but still, I'm not afraid of him. I know he'd never really hurt me and I don't want to go home. I want to stay here and help him. I want to be here for him like he's always been for me. Yeah, so, definitely not calling my mom. Whether he likes it or not, I'm not going anywhere. He's stuck with me until Monday night.

"What? No way, Uncle Jack. You said I could sleep over. We haven't really had time to do anything together since . . ." My voice trails off. I'm not sure if the episode was caused by what Ba'al did to him or if it was because of something from his Special Ops days. Maybe it was a combination of things. I don't know the full extent of what was done to Uncle Jack, but I do know some. Mom wouldn't tell me much; just that he was captured by a Goa'uld named Ba'al who tortured him. I was pretty pissed at her for a while. Not only would she not tell me what was going on with Uncle Jack, but she wouldn't let me see him either. Even after she had cleared him to go home, she still wouldn't let me visit him. The barbecue a few days ago was the first time I've seen him since before he was captured. With everybody else around, we didn't really get a chance to talk much though. I know very very little about his Special Ops days, but I know some really bad stuff happened to him during that time too.

I hate all the people here on Earth who have hurt my "uncle". I hate the Goa'uld. I hate the Tok'ra. Especially the Tok'ra. It's their fault he got captured. If it weren't for Kanan, Uncle Jack never would have been on that planet. Mom says it isn't their fault, that I shouldn't blame all the Tok'ra for the actions of one individual. Screw that. It's their whole mentality that makes me so mad at them. They talk all their crap about how they are nothing like the Goa'uld and that they have a "truly symbiotic relationship with their hosts", but it's not true. They are just as bad, if not worse. At least the Goa'uld don't lie about what happens when they take over. I've heard Mom, Uncle Jack, and the rest of SG-1 talking about the Tok'ra and they don't seem to think much more of humans than the Goa'uld do. The only real difference that I see between them is that the Tok'ra ask before they take a host and they don't use humans as slaves. From what I've overheard, they don't treat them as much more than servants. Never let them go on missions or do much of anything to help in the fight against the Goa'uld. Seems like they don't see humans in general as much more than small children who need constant supervision and can't really take care of themselves.

Then again, I'm not sure I believe them about the slave thing either. Jolinar didn't ask before taking over Sam. She made her a prisoner in her own body. Granted, she was desperate and about to die at the time, but what she did was still wrong. And it wasn't just Sam either. She did the same thing to that guy that Sam was trying to save. How many people was she willing to take hostage just to save her own butt?

"Cassie, don't argue with me."

His snapped response pulls me out of my thoughts. Reflexively, I take a step back at the tone of his voice. I recover quickly and ask, "Why? I thought you said you missed me. Don't you want me around?" I know I'm not really being fair, but I don't care. I miss him. I just want to spend some time with him. Why is he pushing me away? I know he still has nightmares and stuff, but I'm not a child anymore. I'm almost sixteen years old. I can handle it. I can help him if he'll just let me. Why won't he let me help him? Jeez, he can be such a freaking hypocrite sometimes. I mean, he's always telling me not to bottle things up. That I can always talk to him if I need too. So, I ask again, why won't he talk to me? He doesn't need to give me all the details (and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know every single detail of what was done to him), just let me in a little. That's all I'm asking.

"I know you think I'm just a kid, but I can help you if you'll just let me." I want to say more, but he interrupts me.

"There's nothing you can do. You have no clue what I've been through," he puts up a hand to silence me as I open my mouth to protest, "and I hope you never do. I know you want to help me, but I don't want you to. I don't want you to see me like this. You don't need to hear about any of the crap in my head right now. I need to be alone. I can deal with this on my own. Call your mother and have her pick you up now, or I'll do it myself."

I can be just as stubborn as he can. I cross my arms and glare at him. "No."

He's getting angry with me now. It's a scary thing, knowing that, but I don't budge. "Christ, kid! You're as pigheaded as your mother. Get the god damn phone and call her." Seeing that I'm not moving, he bellows, "Now, young lady."

This time, I don't even flinch. Crap! Like he's got room to talk about me being stubborn! "You don't have to tell me everything. You don't have to get specific about anything, just talk to me." It's my turn to stop his interruption. "I'm not a little kid anymore. You can talk to me you know. Just talk to me for crying out loud!" I'm close to tears now. I have to make him see that this is affecting everyone, not just himself. "You don't have to do this alone. You don't even really have to talk about what Ba'al did to you at all, or all the people from Earth that hurt you. Just admit that you're scared, that you're not made of stone and you need a shoulder to cry on sometimes. Everyone does." I pause for a minute than add, "You can't keep it all bottled up. You can't keep hiding from the people who care about you. The SGC needs you, SG-1 needs you . . . I need you. Please, Uncle Jack, please don't shut me out. Don't push me away." I can't keep the pleading tone out of my voice, nor do I want to.

As I stand and wait for his reaction, my mind drifts back to just before the Tok'ra took Uncle Jack to their planet. Mom let me visit him briefly before the Tok'ra offered the symbiote. She wanted to give me a chance to say goodbye. He was so pale and weak. By that time, Mom had removed the nasal cannula and put the oxygen mask on him. She'd warned me before had about how bad he was, but I still wasn't prepared for what I'd seen. I've never seen him so sick before. Sure I've seen him in bad shape before, but he's always cracked jokes and tried to play his injury or illness down before. This last time he just laid there so still. He barely opened his eyes. I'm not sure if he even remembers that I was there. I was supposed to be saying goodbye, but I refused. I just sat there and held his hand as I talked to him, filling him in on school stuff and this really hot boy who just transferred in a few days ago.

Finally, his shoulders slump and the anger drains from him. He closes the short distance between us. "Come here," he says as he pulls me into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, kiddo," he mutters.

He's holding me a little tighter than is really comfortable, but I don't try to push him away at all. Instead I just wrap my arms around his waist and return the hug with all my strength. We stand quietly for several minutes before it hits me. "Crap!" I exclaim as I suddenly remember the ice cream I left on the counter. I break from the embrace and make a beeline for the kitchen with Uncle Jack close on my heels.

"What's wrong?" Uncle Jack asks.

As we enter the kitchen and approach the counter, it's pretty clear. The ice cream I'd scooped into my bowl is gone. In its place is melted mixture of Peanut Butter Fudge ice cream, chocolate syrup and cool whip. Half a dozen cherries are spread out around the think globs. I check the three ice cream cartons next to the bowl. Like I thought, they are all half melted. Unlike my bowl of ice cream, they might be salvageable. I always liked ice cream when it's kinda melty anyway.

"Well," Uncle Jack says with a smile, "I guess banana splits are out."

I nod in agreement as I return his smile. I pick up my bowl, careful not to spill the contents and make my way to the garbage disposal. While I'm taking care of that, Uncle Jack disposes of the three melted cartons of ice cream. Okay, so no ice cream. Together we make short work of cleaning up the rest of the counter. I deposit the dirty bowl, ice cream scooper and silverware into the dishwasher then put the clean bowl and spoon where they belong as Uncle Jack puts the chocolate syrup, can of cool whip and the jar of cherries in the fridge. With the kitchen clean, we head back into the living room.

While Uncle Jack finishes situating our snacks, I set our milkshakes on the coffee table then go over to the entertainment stand and pop a DVD into the player. I had originally planned on making it a horror night tonight, but I think we could both use a good laugh and someone to root for tonight as they kick the crap out of the bad guys. I look at his face as I walk back to the couch and notice that the haunted look he's had all day is gone. I'm glad. I sit beside him and pick up my bowl of chips then lean back and watch as the opening credits of "Lethal Weapon 2" come up. I know that he will probably never say anything to me about what's been done to him, by that stupid snake or anyone else, but at least now he won't push me away anymore.

That's enough for me.

TBC