Feigning sleep had become second nature for her. Curled into a fetal ball on her right side, one pillow clutched to her abdomen like a shield, the second cushioning her head, Sam kept her eyes closed. She silently prayed the duty nurse checking her vitals and gently probing the IV needle inserted into the top of her left hand would assume the patient was asleep and not attempt to wake her. Sam did not want contact with anyone, not even the stranger who was administering to her. A scolding figment of her conscious reminded Sam the nameless nurse was performing her duty and Sam’s continued refusal to acknowledge those attempting to help her only prolonged her recovery, if she recovered. Janet was concerned but was clueless as to how to treat someone who had been invaded by a symbiont, attacked by a Goa’uld Ashrack and then have the unwanted symbiont willingly die so that she would survive the assassination attempt. Her teammates were equally concerned but just as clueless as to how they could help. They all meant well. Sam, however, wanted nothing more than to be left alone, cocooned in her self pity, wracked by shame and guilt, to try and sort out on her own the miasma of feelings, memories both hers and not hers, drifting to and fro in her aware state.
She was tired in body and soul. Every essence of her being had fought the total domination of the symbiont and had, in her opinion, so pathtically failed. What would her father say if he learned his Air Force Academy trained, wannbe astronaut daughter had been so utterly helpless in battling an invading enemy and had lost the war for control of her own body. Sam swallowed a sob, mindful of the soft retreating steps of the departing nurse.
Barely lifting one eyelid, Sam covertly checked to see if she was, indeed, alone. She saw no one, no shadows hovering by her bed. Releasing a low, soft moan, Sam opened swollen and reddened eyes and resumed staring straight ahead at the drab concrete wall. Her gaze drifted to the splash of color isolated in the grayness of the infirmary. The huge bouquet of multi-hued flowers sitting on the adjacent hospital table was not only visually alluring but their perfumed scents of life wafted within detection of her nose. The smell of life, of renewal.
A hesitant hand snaked over to lightly finger the delicate white petals of the nearest tulip. Daniel and his flowers. The one constant in her life since being freed by Jolinar was Daniel and his daily offerings of flowers. He would come quietly, offer his gift, ask her how she was feeling, and patiently await a reply. She would ignore him and he would eventually leave. It was a sweet, compassionate gesture from the gentle natured and equally compassionate archeologist. Daniel, in his own way, was reaching out to her but Sam couldn’t accept his kindness. It was easier to feel sorry for herself than to struggle to regain who she had once been before Jolinar. She did, however, begrudgingly admire Daniel’s persistence.
And his persistence is working, isn’t it Samantha? Her tiny voice of reason, unfortunately echoed with Jolinar’s timbre, taunted from the place she had exiled it. Maybe its time to change tactics, to develop a new battle plan. Maybe you should admit you can’t survive this alone and reach out for help?
Silently shushing the nagging voice, Sam’s fingers wondered to a bright yellow mum, lightly brushing the feathered petal flower. Who could she reach out to she wondered. Janet was her physician and becoming a trusted, valued friend, their relationship blooming when the alien orphaned Cassandra had come into their shared lives. But the two women did not know each other well enough for Sam to feel comfortable reaching out to the physician for help. The colonel, Teal’c and General Hammond were battle tested soldiers. They were trained not to have feelings.
The only person who had elicited any emotion from her, who had cracked her defenses, had been Cassandra. During her visit the previous day, Cassie had told Sam she forgave her mistreatment initiated by Jolinar. But Sam couldn’t forgive herself and she had quickly refortified herself when the girl had left.
One person remained.
Reach out for help…but she was so ashamed. The sting of renewed tears caused Sam to squeeze her eyes shut, failing to stem the flow.
Guilt suddenly overwhelmed her and Sam jerked her hand back to wrap it around the protective pillow. How could Daniel be so thoughtful after the pain she had allowed Jolinar to inflict upon him? Like a wave crashing on a rocky beach, the unwanted memory drowned her as Jolinar’s scephuculared voice echoed within her mind.
I can give her back to you. I’m not talking about Samantha, Daniel. I’m talking about Sha’re. I know where she is.
Sam whimpered. More tears escaped her squeezed eyelids, as she vividly remembered the shocked hurt warring with hope on Daniel’s face engendered by Jolinar’s declaration. Sam had been unable to prevent Jolinar from cruelly taunting the archeologist with the one weapon, which could so viciously injure him. How could Daniel even care about her now, how could he….
"Sam?"
The whispered summons was unexpected. Startled, Sam’s tearing eyes flew open to see Daniel’s blurred but very concerned visage leaning down towards her, the tips of his unruly bangs feathering his worry filled blue eyes behind his glasses. His right hand rested lightly on her left shoulder.
"I’ll get the nurse," he decided, straightening.
"No!" Sam’s voice was hoarse from lack of use. Her left hand shot out to grab Daniel’s in a tight grip. "No," she implored. The last thing she wanted was to have someone hovering over her.
"Then let me get Doctor Fraiser," he suggested.
"No!!" she emphatically begged. Sam lifted her head from the pillow belatedly aware she had broken her self-imposed vow of silence.
"Sam, you’re upset. I can’t…," Daniel ceased talking trying gently to pry her gripping fingers from his hand.
This only caused Sam’s panic to increase. Suddenly, a solution presented itself. "You stay?" she pleaded, hoping instead Daniel would refuse and leave yet knowing his giving nature would not allow him to do so. "Please? Don’t send for anyone. Please."
Daniel hesitated before answering, his worried eyes glancing towards Janet’s office. "Well, um, okay. I can stay," he agreed.
He turned his head away spying the empty chair. Daniel pulled it over with his free hand and sat. His worried eyes were level with hers his entire posture telegraphing his concern for her.
Sam resettled her head on the pillow but the tension in her body did not ease. Nor did her grip on Daniel’s imprisoned hand. A small part of her craved the physical contact while the majority of her raged she was unworthy and deserved to be shunned, abandoned by the very co-workers she had allowed Jolinar to threaten.
Daniel’s shy grin, the one she found so engaging, flittered across his young face. "Okay?" he asked. Sam nodded once. "What can I do to help you, Sam?"
At his offer, guilt stabbed her. She should send him away but that nagging small voice demanded she listen to it. How could she be so selfish to yet again rebuke Daniel’s kindness? Sam sniffed feeling the warm wetness of her tears coursing down her face. "Kleenex?" she croaked.
Daniel immediately searched the cluttered pull over table; saw the box of tissue nearly hidden by the flowers, plucked several sheets with his free hand, passing them to her.
Sam took them and blotted the wetness from her cheeks and eyes. Daniel relieved her of the damp tissues and tossed them in the trashcan.
"Better?" he asked, resting his hand protectively over hers, which continued to hold his captive in a vise grip.
Sam nodded.
The seconds passed as neither spoke. Two pairs of blue eyes locked together trying to ascertain what each were seeking. Sam broke contact first, her eyes flickering to the bouquet of flowers. No, correct that. Bouquets, plural. Daniel had obviously delivered another lovely display to join its counterpart.
Clearing her throat, Sam said, "The flowers. All of them have been lovely, Daniel. Thank you."
"Ohh, um, you’re welcome," he stuttered, his face flushing lightly. "I know you like plants so I thought, well, they’d cheer you up or something."
"They have," Sam assured, surprised she could admit this truth.
"Good," Daniel said, relieved. He became pensive. "How are you, Sam?"
"I really don’t know," Sam, confessed, the admission escaping before she could prevent it. Damn, her shell was beginning to crumble. But, her inner voice chided, it wouldn’t be crumbling if you didn’t want help. What if Daniel tires of having his offer of help rebuffed, hmmm? Then you’ll have what you think you crave, to be alone, isolated, shunned. Who will help you then? With great mental effort, Sam hushed the nagging voice.
Daniel’s face pinched in the expression Sam had come to recognize as the ‘feeling-helpless-but-wanting-to-do-something’ look. She recalled Daniel had worn it a lot when they were dealing with Cassandra and the bomb the Goa’uld had callowously implanted in the little girl. With great mental effort, Sam tried to put her feelings into words. Maybe, as her inner voice suggested, it was time she opened up about her experience of being blended with a symbiont. A Tok’Ra, true, not a Goa’uld, but at the moment Sam was having difficulty in distinguishing between the two. Despite the pain she had allowed Jolinar to cause him, Daniel was probably the only one here she would feel comfortable confiding with, the only one she felt would not judge her for her failings.
"I, I feel…sad, lost..like a part of me is missing. A part I never wanted. I’m still trying to sort through these emotions and memories trying to isolate Jolinar’s from my own."
Daniel’s eyebrows arched into his bangs. "Wow, that must be…confusing."
"Very," Sam agreed, closing her eyes. "I’m also ashamed. I remember my mouth saying words, hurtful words, and my body doing things, threatening everyone, and no matter how hard I tried to stop it, I couldn’t…."
"Something of the host survives," Daniel, muttered, his eyes and face blank with introspection. "What Kendra told us."
Sam’s eyes opened. She knew he was thinking about his wife.
"Yes, Daniel," she whispered, drawing his attention to her. "The Goa’uld may have control but the host is aware, sees, hears, and experiences everything." She paused watching as he digested this information. A part of him must crave knowledge of her experience; to understand what Sha’re was enduring even now. But Daniel, being Daniel, was too polite to ask or even pry to benefit himself. Rather, Sam realized, he asked because he wanted to help her.
By revealing this information, Sam sought to repay his kindness towards her. Kindness she was unworthy of.
Building her resolve, Sam continued. "I’m sorry, Daniel, for what Jolinar did to you. The pain he inflicted. I tried… I tried to stop him but..I..couldn’t…I wasn’t strong enough…" Renewed sobbing choked her pathetic apology.
"What?" Daniel asked, pulled from his musings by the desperation in Sam’s voice.
"What he did to you…taunting you about knowing where Sha’re was, Daniel, I understand. I won’t ask you to forgive me," Sam choked; her tears of regret flowing freely.
"Oh, Sam," Daniel sighed.
Without warning, he stood and sat on the edge of the bed, scooping Sam’s trembling body to him, encircling her in a protective, comforting hug, their joined hands now sheltered between them. Sam didn’t struggle, but rather clung to Daniel letting her tears flow realizing this demonstration of physical touch was a rare one coming from the usually non-demonstrative archeologist. This gift she couldn’t refuse.
"There’s nothing to forgive," he assured, his voice muffled by her hair. "It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. Is that what you’ve been thinking these past days? Why you’ve kept me away? Because you think I blame you?"
Sam weakly nodded, burying her face between his shoulder and neck.
"No, no. Me, I’m the one who should apologize to you."
Sam stilled in Daniel’s embrace, but her weeping wouldn’t stop. What was Daniel trying to say?
"Jolinar was right. I avoided visiting you. Jack and Teal’c came, but I…couldn’t," he confessed.
Even through her tears Sam detected the self-loathing in his words and instinctively knew their source. "You were uncomfortable." She remembered when Daniel finally came to the detention cell, his posture stiff with discomfort, his eyes looking everywhere except at her. "You wouldn’t look at me," she stated confessing a deep hurt. "I thought you despised me for allowing Jolinar.."
"No, no, never," Daniel quickly corrected. "No, it was me, Sam. I was being selfish. When your eyes glowed in the Embarkation Room, I was terrified believing I’d lost someone else I care for to the Goa’uld. When Jolinar spoke, the voice reminded me of the evil that has invaded Sha’re. I was thinking of my wife, instead of thinking of you. Some friend I am, huh?"
Daniel became silent. Sam could only think how horrible the entire incident had been for him, of the agony yet another confrontation with a Goa’uld had caused him. Wait…he said someone else he cared for? Sam considered Daniel a colleague and a teammate, yes, but he thought of her as a valued friend? She mulled this revelation for a few moments. Yes, over the past year she had come to consider Daniel as a valued friend as well. A friend whom she couldn’t allow to feel guilt over his understandable behavior toward her while possessed by Jolinar, not when she had allowed Jolinar to wound Daniel so grievously.
Sam tightened her embrace. "Yes, you are a friend, a very good friend. Only a good friend would be here now," she became silent. "I’ve been trying to remember what Jolinar knew," Sam continued, "to tell you where Sha’re is but I can’t find it…I’m sorry, so sorry," she sobbed as the tears renewed.
"No, Sam, don’t, don’t," Daniel cooed, his hand rubbing soothing circles over her back.
"I want to give her back to you, Daniel," Sam confessed sniffing, but the damned tears wouldn’t stop coming, flowing down her face dampening Daniel’s work shirt. If she could help Daniel find Sha’re, she’d have absolution for the hurt she allowed Jolinar to inflict.
"You will, if you can. I’d never barter your life for Sha’re’s. I hope you understood that in the cell, when I told you I was sorry."
"I understood," Sam sighed, before hiccupping. It was unfair, expecting Daniel to choose her over his wife, thus condemning Sha’re to a continued living hell in Goa’uld possession.
"When Jolinar demanded a new host as the price for your freedom," Daniel continued, then faltered.
For some reason Sam’s protective warning signals began to blare as her gut tightened in trepidation. He didn’t…did he? Then Sam remembered Chulak…the reality Daniel offered himself as a host in a desperate attempt to be near his blended wife. Horrified, Sam eased back looking at him with watery eyes. "Daniel, no," she denied.
"I thought about it," he confessed, his hand gently brushing her mussed bangs to one side. "I could have freed you."
"God, no." Sam was furious. She knew Daniel would have done it to free her and possibly access Jolinar’s knowledge. "Daniel, no not for me. I’d be so damn pissed at you." She scolded. "The colonel would never even consider it."
"I never told Jack. It’s okay. He’s already yelled at me for letting my emotions cloud my judgment, for allowing Jolinar’s offer to entice me."
"He’s right," Sam emphasized. She quickly rubbed the excess moisture from her eyes before locking gazes with Daniel. "I know you’re always telling me its okay to feel, but I could never live with myself. Please, promise me, if a similar situation arises, don’t do it. Ever. Promise."
Sam hoped she was giving him a stern look, thinking red, puffy eyes and wet cheeks lacked the credibility to scold. Daniel looked at her, his shy grin slowly appearing.
"Okay," he promised. "So, the self assured soldier who is Captain Doctor has survived, hiding behind this misplaced self pity?" his brows arched knowingly.
Sam frowned, suddenly irritated with Daniel. But it vanished quickly. She could never stay angry with him. Maybe he was right. She’d spent enough time hiding here in the infirmary and within herself. If she had any character and self-respect, she’d pull herself up by the bootstraps--a cliché the colonel would favor-- and face the consequences. She reached a trembling hand to comb back Daniel’s over long bangs mirroring his earlier gesture. He really should get a hair cut, she thought resting her hand on his shoulder.
"I care for you, Sam," Daniel declared, his face mirroring his concern. "We all do. We thought we’d lost you. Thankfully, you’re a survivor."
"A survivor?" Sam repeated. She thought a moment. Yes, she supposed she was. She peered at Daniel. "How do you do it?"
"What?’
"Survive?"
Daniel shrugged. "I had to do it alone when my parents died. Since I’ve been here, I’ve come to realize I have you, Jack and Teal’c to help me. Sam, you have to forgive yourself. If you had failed like you think, you wouldn’t be here now, would you? You’re strong. A strong person knows when to ask friends for help. Please, let us help you, Sam?" Daniel implored, engaging his begging look at maximum wattage.
It was true. Daniel was a survivor. If he could continually find the strength within himself to persevere, to weather yet another set back to rescuing Sha’re and endure a Zat blast as well, then so could she find the resolve to go on. Since Daniel never lies, maybe it was time she began to reclaim her life. "Could you get the colonel and Teal’c? I think I’m ready to talk. I don’t know about what, but, talking would be good, right?"
"Talking would be good," Daniel agreed. He leaned towards her, hesitating. Without warning, he swiftly kissed her on the forehead, a show of affection two loving siblings would share then stood. "I’ll get them. You’ll still be here?"
"I’m not going anywhere," Sam assured still surprised by the kiss, such a demonstrative act from usually reserved Daniel.
"Okay."
Sam released Daniel’s hand and watched him leave the infirmary. She suspected she wouldn’t have to wait long for them to arrive. Her eyes drifted to the two flower arrangements. She pulled the movable table towards her and inhaled deeply of the pleasing aroma. Daniel amazed her. His depth of compassion was bottomless. At this moment she vowed not to let this experience overwhelm her. She would find a way to use it to her, and the SGC’s, advantage. Jolinar’s memories were within her. If she could train herself to access them…maybe there was still hope to find Sha’re. She would give Daniel that hope.
Letting her eyes stray from the floral arrangements, she caught sight of her reflection in an inactive monitor. God, she looked awful. Plucking more tissues she busied herself, drying her face and eyes then combed her fingers through her stiff hair. God, she needed a shower. She should ask Janet if she’d be allowed to get up and take one.
Touchup completed, Sam watched as her teammates entered the infirmary. That didn’t take very long she thought suspiciously, her eyes narrowing a fraction. If she didn’t know better, she’d suspect Daniel had planned this. The colonel and Teal’c were hesitant but Daniel confidently waved them to follow. Sam sat straighter, smoothing the blanket over her lap. She hoped her expression was one of welcome, not the blank stare of someone who had given up. Her team cared about her and she suspected they each harbored some misplaced guilt from their actions during her possession as she blamed herself for failing to defeat Jolinar. They wanted to help her but, as with Daniel, her wanting to help them would be her cure. She just needed to draw upon the strength and courage to let them in, as Daniel advised. They were survivors, all four of them.
© March 2004 Stargate SG-1 and its characters are not owned by me. They are the property of SciFi Channel, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions and Gekko Productions. This story is written for entertainment purposes only: no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement intended.