Reminder:
"This is spoken English."
"This is spoken Czech."
This is a thought.

Previously: Anna's birthday (since chapter 62)? It went… okay, actually. (Chapter 19, also; bit of a throwback.)

Chapter 64. All the Little Things.

He'd done a good job. Better than Anna expected.

Last year, when her mother told her that she was sick… very sick… Anna didn't realize that would be her last birthday with her. Anna held out hope she would make it another year. She knew she was fooling herself, especially with Mom making all sorts of preparations and talking about Radek more than Anna had ever known.

Today, she was so distracted she didn't think.

Her excitement had drawn her awareness away, waiting for the big surprise. Waiting to see if the ATA gene worked. Waiting for the Puddle Jumper. It couldn't have gone better if he'd somehow planned for Colonel Sheppard to get infected with some retrovirus-or-other.

He couldn't do that. Even if he could have, nobody would do that.

The day was over now, though, and she couldn't help but think about it.

She opened the photo album on her knees and flipped the pages of past birthdays. Cupcakes and clothes and stuffed animals and… Mom. She'd never have a birthday like these again. She pulled out the photo for her fifteenth birthday. Mom gave her jewelry during the party she'd had with her orchestra-mates. Not really friends… but not distant enough to ignore a reason for cupcakes. When it was just her and Mom, she gave her a small stuffed cat. Anna got rid of it… She knew she'd regret it.

She put the photo back and turned the page. Radek's letter with feathered edges rested on top of a picture of Anna and the violinist that sat next to her about to go on stage. She carefully picked the letter up and slid her fingers down the edges. Stared at the Radek on the front, written in trembling cursive.

She still had no guesses as to what it said, and it was none of her business.

She wished her mother had written her a letter.

Anna held the envelope behind her back and slipped out of her room. Radek sat on the couch with a book. A book on some sort of unpronounceable analysis by the looks of it. It was in Czech, but it was clearly very scientific. She had no idea if it was leisure or work. She never knew with the sorts of books he read.

"Radek?" she said quietly. She hurried over to the couch and sat down. She realized a moment later how weird that was. She almost never sat on the couch.

Radek shut his book and looked at her. Must have been a book he was just reading for fun. He never gave up work that quickly. "Yes, what is it?"

She took a deep breath. "Thank you for the birthday," she said. Better to lead with that. "It was… much better than I was expecting."

He half-smiled, probably because that was almost insulting. That wasn't what she meant at all.

"I mean, I almost didn't think about Mom at all. Only a little. Just now. Because it's my first birthday she isn't here, but you kept me so busy that I didn't really think about it." It wasn't the worst birthday ever, and that seemed like a miracle. It had every right to be.

He nodded. "I'm glad."

"But I remembered that I was supposed to give you something a long time ago…" Quickly, intently, she drew the envelope from behind her back and shoved it at him. "I'm sorry. I should have…"

Radek took it and studied the front.

Anna wondered if he recognized the letters, the way her mother wrote. Probably not. The letters didn't look anything like the handwriting that her mother used to have.

He looked a bit confused as he turned it over and slid his thumb under the seal.

"It's from Mom," she said.

He whipped it over again to look at the writing. "Oh…" He turned it and broke the seal.

Anna was desperately curious to know what it said, but accepted she would probably never know. Still, she watched him unfold the paper, rub his nose with a sniff. He read for a few seconds.

"When did she write this?"

Anna started at the sudden question. The answer was she didn't know exactly. But judging from the writing, it was very close to the end. "I think a week… a week before…" She took a deep breath. "A week before she died, probably, I think."

"I see."

He didn't sound angry. He didn't sound much of anything. That was probably a good thing. Anna didn't know why she'd kept it from him this long. Maybe it was on purpose and she didn't know. The last thing her mother had to say. As if Anna waited, her mother would still be there, somehow, waiting to say it… She leaned back on the couch and waited for him to say something. Anything.

Or maybe there was nothing to say.

#

It had been a long time since he'd seen her writing but… Eliška had beautiful, sweeping handwriting. She made even the harshest words look inviting. This could not be the same person.

This should not be the same person.

Maybe the faint scent of almonds was imagined, but it was enough. He didn't know what to think when he opened it. A page of the painstaking, shaking script was almost more than he could bear to look at, but she'd gone to a lot of trouble. Maybe a record of his wrongdoings over their years together, all the things he listed for himself whenever he thought of how old Anna was and how much he'd missed.

He didn't read it. Not really.

Radek folded the paper the way it came, and looked at Anna. She watched him carefully, like she was waiting for something. Like she expected something important to happen as consequence of the letter… but that important thing had already happened.

Anna was here.

Eliška was gone. Sometimes, for just a moment… sometimes he forgot.

"Thank you." He stood, leaving Anna looking a little bewildered as he went to his room. "It's getting late." After his late night two days ago, he figured he was still catching up. But he pulled all-nighters all the time, so… why did he suddenly feel so tired?

"Oh," Anna mumbled, nodding hastily. "Okay. Good night."

She retreated to her room before Radek got to his door. He slipped the envelope back and forth in his fingers, debating on whether to read it tonight or leave it for the morning.

He deposited it on the table next to his bed. Changed out of his uniform and then sat on the edge of his bed just staring at the letter for maybe minutes. Finally picked it up again. He wouldn't be able to sleep whether he read it or not…

His name was on the envelope, but the letter was written to dearest. The last time she called him that… He didn't really remember exactly. He remembered a near-physical pain when he realized she'd stopped using it. Started calling him Radek just like everyone else.

Dearest, she wrote. Meticulously.

She apologized. Why did she apologize? He should apologize. He drove her crazy. He didn't do things he should have, did some he shouldn't have. He said things he shouldn't have even thought. He'd promised love, honor, respect, and faithfulness until death separated them, God help him. It was a foolish promise made by young people who didn't know the meaning of the words they spoke.

Here he was, with death between them, and he still loved her.

He skipped over the paragraph of apology, went straight to the next one.

I don't know if you'll make it in time. I hope you will, but Emílie isn't optimistic. But I know you'll come for Anna. It is an infuriating thing about you. You were always there when I most needed you. Except now. I know something must keep you from getting here. Unless you've come to hate me. I would understand if that were so.

But I hope you've forgiven me.

"Ela," he whispered. "I could never hate you." As if she could hear him. If only she could have known that for sure. If only he'd been there, he would have explained himself entirely. Damn the consequences—she was dying, anyway. What did it matter if she knew he was working in another galaxy? She deserved to know the only thing that kept him from being there was three million lightyears. She never knew.

I have many regrets, but none so acute as that Anna does not know you. I once thought that expectation of nothing was better than expectations broken. Some years you sent letters and gifts. Other years you sent nothing. This is the one time I've encouraged her to believe in you. I hope I'm not wrong.

Some days, I'm not sure what happened between us. Other days I am. But I hope you are happy, wherever you are. I hope you come soon. If you don't, know I will always love you and Anna.

Live well, Ráďa. *

He couldn't read her signature. The letter clattered to the floor before he could look at it anyway. He put his glasses aside and rubbed his eyes. Did she ever forgive him?

He supposed he'd never know..

Maybe she would, if she could have seen today. Or maybe not. He had no idea what she'd think of Radek taking their daughter to another galaxy. Letting her learn how to throw knives, shoot guns, and fly spaceships (eventually). Would she think that was irresponsible or… would she understand that Anna couldn't live without her? Sometimes it was better to forget.

Did she know he couldn't live without her?

If she knew that, she would understand. Because sometimes he forgot. And that was better.

He picked the letter up off the floor and placed it next to the framed drawing of Anna playing her violin for the Stargate next to his bed. He looked at the drawing for a moment before he put his head down on his pillow.

He hoped she would've understood. He hoped she'd forgiven him. He hoped…

Czech Things

* Just a diminutive form of Radek, like Ela is short for Eliška.

A/N: Yeah, it's not Friday. You know what that means, right? It's Anna's Name Day.

I wasn't going to post extra on Anna's Name Day, but I figured, what the heck. Why not? She won't get her birthday because, you know, that's even more arbitrary. But I picked her name for reasons, and her Name Day comes with her name, which is a pretty special name to me by now.

Anyway. Just finished one of my summer term classes, so I'm glad about that.

... How you guys been? You good? You happy?

Next time: I only think of myself...