Memories of the Heart by Betty Bokor
Sam/Daniel. A mission goes horribly wrong while Sam's life is changed forever. Spoilers: All seasons, including 10 to the end.
Disclaimer: The Stargate original characters belong to MGM/Showtime, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Film Corp. This was written strictly for the purpose of entertainment. No attempt at copyright infringement has been made.
Memories of the Heart
Chapter 12
A.N. Hi. I just wanted to remind you of the warning. This chapter has some facts that may offend some readers. If you do not like to talk about anatomy, sex, and anything related to them, steer away from this story. It is definitely not graphic, but this section in particular deals with a lot of technical facts related to reproduction. Please, do not complain if you keep reading and then you do not like what you read. On the other hand, if you are enjoying the story, be kind and let me know. Thanks
Daniel sat against the wall. The smell of the medicine the old woman had put on his wounds was dizzying. At least the pain was diminishing. He only had one day before going back into battle. Who would he have to face now? Who would fight by his side?
He had never had any chances of making friends. There was no time during the battle −just the occasional last second alliance to escape death− and then he was thrown into solitary confinement again. As the days passed, he realized that few of the men who had started with him were still there. He had seen some die in the field; others were badly injured; others simply never came back. How long could he last? When was he going to succumb to the darkness that seemed to want to swallow him every time he was left alone in the silence of his prison?
As the effect of the medicine started waning, the pain came back and grew stronger in minutes. Daniel did what he had been doing for the last weeks. He concentrated until he felt his body began separating from his mind −his soul?− and he felt no more pain. There was always a point when he could feel the distance between his physical half and the other one, as if the second hovered over the other. It was the same sensation he had felt for the first time as his body lay dying of radiation poisoning and his mind calmly debated his future with Oma Desala. He was amazed at how easy it had been to recreate those moments. Now he was starting to think that there was much more that he actually remembered from his ascension and that all those notions were keeping him alive. He probably would have time to prove it soon. He had no hope of being rescued at all.
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Sam closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Right after the Luteinizing Hormone surge had signaled that her body was ready to ovulate, they had started getting ready. Nobody else besides Jennifer knew what they were about to do. Now, the procedure was over, Jennifer had left her alone in the room, and, though she did not have to, she was going to sleep in the Infirmary. Like the last time.
Six to twenty-six. Those were her odds.
She had debated for a long time what would be the best choices and, in spite of the potential for increasing her likelihood to conceive, she had opted for not inducing or stimulating her ovulation through fertility drugs. She knew the success rate of I.U.I. in women over thirty-eight was low −and it would be worse after forty− but she wanted to give her own body a chance. She also wanted to avoid the higher risk of a multiple pregnancy; she was not sure she was ready for more than one child.
She had learned everything she could about gonadotropins during her lonely nights in Atlantis; she had discussed it extensively with Jennifer; she had compared the results of every study she had been able to read, and, still, she felt she had to intrude the least possible in the process.
She had even refused to try choosing the sex of the baby. Many studies showed that there was a better chance to get a boy with the sex selection procedure but, although she secretly wanted a boy, a Daniel, she had decided to let nature choose for her.
Fortunately, she had a few advantages. She was healthy and she was in excellent shape. Additionally, Daniel's sperm had been purposely frozen for I.U.I. and it had a very high count.
The rest was out of her hands. Now she had to wait.
She turned in bed to lie sideways. She could not sleep. The last months had been very hard. Right after taking charge of Atlantis, she had had to deal with the strange sickness that Sheppard had brought. The nightmares had ended the life of Kate Heightmeyer, one of the few members of the colony she knew from before her arrival. A month later, Sam had lost −and recovered− her memory along with mostly everybody else in the city. Then, the Athosians had disappeared, McKay's sister had been kidnapped, and Daniel had died.
No; Daniel was lost. He was not dead.
That had not helped the holidays. She had kept a smiling face during all the celebrations because she wanted her people to enjoy the little they could celebrate so far from home and their families. However, another Christmas without Daniel, like the one in 2002, had been very hard to go through, especially after the first attempt with insemination had no positive results. By the second week of January, just a few days after being told that Teyla was pregnant, Sam had clear proof that she was not going to have Daniel's baby.
In any case, she was taking another chance and she would soon know if it had worked.
She took a deep breath and thought of Daniel. She tried to remember the sensations of the night they had spent together, as if he were there, trying to conceive their child with her. Among the many memories, there was a short dialogue that suddenly came to her mind.
She was lying by his side, feeling his arm holding her close to him. She laid her hand on his chest as he slowly calmed his breathing. It was the first pause they had taken that night and she was amazed; she was in awe at what had just happened; she was in shock that it all had been with Daniel.
A question came to her mind right then and she let it out without thinking about what consequences any response would bring.
"Did Vala and you ever…?" She could not finish.
"No; never," he answered fast and confidently.
Then, there was a long pause; Daniel took a deep breath.
Sam felt he wanted to ask something himself, but he did not want to hurt or bother her in any way.
"We didn't either…" She said.
Daniel took a second and then whispered a "What?"
"Jack… you know… We never did anything."
He did not answer. He just kissed her forehead, hugged her tightly, and stroked her hair softly.
She could almost feel his hand on her hair right now. She sighed comfortably and fell asleep.
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Daniel sighed deeply. For a second he had felt as if Sam were there, by his side. He could almost feel her long hair under his fingers…
Ah… He had to stop dreaming. He could not communicate with anyone; much less feel Sam at such a distance. During the three months he had spent in that hell he had tried over and over to reach someone. After hours in the solitary darkness of his cell, there was always a moment when he was somehow convinced that it was possible. As soon as he woke up in the mornings, his mind reminded him that it was not.
Nevertheless, there was something that was working. Two days ago he had gathered enough strength to help one of his wounds heal. It had been, too, one of those things that suddenly came to his mind in the dark.
About two weeks earlier he had become certain that if he aimed all his energy toward an injury, he could direct his body to heal it. The thought had come out of nowhere, one afternoon when he was practicing his mind-body separation to avoid the intensity of the pain. First, he had completely rejected the idea, but, later, out of sheer desperation, he had started to consider it. Since then he had been trying, until two days before, when under the scarce light that filtered in the morning through the small window of his cell, he had actually seen his skin close over the small wound on his leg. It was not much of an achievement, but it was something, and it also was proof that it could be done. Now he had to perfect it.