Area 52: The Letter 1

I closed the door behind the last of the mourners. Now there's only Cassie and me in the house. Now I have to deal

I never thought it would come to this. I never thought that I would be the one left behind to mourn, to make the arrangements, to deal with all the shit that happens when you are the closest thing in the world to her and legally you don't have any call on her at all. Thankfully the papers we drew up for each other a year or two ago after the Entity incident smoothed the way a great deal. And the General. He's been great. Pulled as many strings as he could for us, for me

Cassie is in her room. She escaped up there as soon as we got back to the house. Even though she knew everyone here, she was too overwhelmed to cope, poor kid. No one should have to go through losing their mother twice. Once is bad enough. I should know

I haven't cried. That bothers her. It bothers the guys as well, and the General and my dad. I haven't eaten or slept either since it happened. They think it's because I blame myself. But I don't. It was just one of those things. I know that. It was her time to go

I saw it. I saw the Colonel go down first, a staff blast to the upper chest. I called out for a medic, looked around, saw Janet a few yards away, shaking her head at something Daniel said. They were both crouched over someone's body. I don't think he made it either. She heard me, looked up, gave me a half smile before she saw it was the Colonel that had been hit. I saw the colour drain from her face. Daniel urged her to keep low, still clutching the camera to his chest but she can't have heard him. She stood, took two steps towards us and the ball of light exploded in the base of her spine, knocking her forwards. She was always so graceful, it was in her nature I suppose. So graceful, so beautiful

She crumpled to the ground, the impact sending her tumbling. If she'd survived she would have been paraplegic. The blast shattered her spine and her pelvis. She would have hated that. She would have coped with it, I know, made the best kind of life that she could but she would have hated it

Everyone told me it was quick. That she was dead before her body hit the ground. That does not make me feel any better. I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get to see her smile one last time

Everyone came to the funeral. There were representatives from all the SG teams, the Academy Hospital, the CDC where she used to work, the Pentagon, the White House. Friends of hers from town, from college. Our friends and what little real family we have. The one notable absence was the Colonel. He's still in intensive care. He doesn't know that she's dead.

I remember how I felt, or didn't feel when my mother died. This is deeper, darker. But I have to be strong for everyone, for Cassie. For her

She wrote letters for everyone. Left them with the General for safekeeping. He told me that she updated them every six months or so. That she wrote the last set just over a month ago. There is one to me and one to Cassie. They're in the drawer. I haven't opened mine yet. Cassie doesn't know about hers. I hold them in my hand and go upstairs

Cassie's quiet 'come in' is the first words I've heard her utter all day. She's sitting on the edge of her bed with the Winnie the Pooh that Janet bought her on her first weekend as her foster-mother clutched in her arms. Her eyes are red raw with crying and I can tell she's not done yet

I sit down on the floor beside the bed. After a moment, Cassie slips down to join me. I hand her the pale cream envelope. "Janet wrote letters for everyone. A lot of us do. If we die. The General gave me them earlier. You have one and so do I. She wrote them for a lot of people - Daniel, Jack, Teal'c, the General."

Cassie handed the envelope back to me, unopened. "I can't. would you?" I nodded, carefully opened the letter. It wasn't long, less than a page. I saw the achingly familiar writing and felt something inside me break just a little

My darling Cassie,' I read. Cassie's head is resting on my shoulder, her arms clasped around me. I can feel quiet sobs shudder through her. 'My darling Cassie. If you are reading this then I am gone. I can only guess the pain that you must be feeling now, at losing your mother a second time. Just remember that you are not alone this time and that you are very brave. Look after.' I paused, breaking a little more. How could she do this? 'Look after Sam for me. I love you both so much. One of the happiest days of my life was the day that you came into my home as my daughter and there are no words to say what you have meant to me these last years. I could not be more proud of you or love you more if I had been your birth mother. I know that your real parents would have been proud of you as well and that you will go on to continue making us all proud of you, of your beauty, your accomplishments. As I said, if you are reading this then I am gone. I hope I died well. I hope I made you as proud of me as I am of you. I love you so much, my darling daughter.

My eyes are blurred. Cassie's hand is on my heart, so I guess it's still beating. She's crying so hard. It's hard to believe that she's been part of our lives for six years now. She's nearly nineteen, a young woman

My letter is on the floor beside me. I can't open it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I know what it will say. I hold on to our daughter, make soothing noises as her sobs gradually quieten and I realise that she has fallen asleep. Carefully I lift her onto the bed, pull the quilt over her slim body. I place her letter on her bedside table.

She's dead and yet everything I see, everything I do reminds me of her. It's been four, no five days since it happened. I close my eyes and see again the graceless crumpling of her body. I knew at that moment that she was gone, her spirit snatched out of existence. I would do anything, give anything to see her again, to go back and prevent what happened. But I can't

I'm in the shower, the water as hot as I can stand it pounding against my bare skin. It's not hard enough. It doesn't hurt enough, not enough to counter the pain deep inside, pain that's getting worse with every moment. I pick up the soap, lather myself and stop. I picked up the wrong bottle. This is Janet's shower gel, the scent of jasmine and vanilla that she liked so much. My senses betray me and it is as if I am surrounded by her. I scream her name, wrapping my arms around myself, sliding down the wall of the shower, the water still pounding down on me, washing away the soap, washing away my tears

And I am alive. I don't know how long I crouched there, crying. Long enough for the water to run cold. Long enough for my skin to prune. Long enough for it to be evening when I stagger out into the bedroom, cold and wet and hollow

The letter is on the pillow on her side of the bed. I don't remember putting it there. I lie down on my side of the bed and reach out and touch it, stroking the smooth cool paper. My name is handwritten on the front in her familiar, distinctive handwriting. Three letters. I trace them with my finger. S-a-m. I close my eyes

I close my eyes. See her fall. I cannot go to her. If I take my hands off the Colonel from where I am putting pressure on the wound in his chest he will bleed out. He will die. Daniel crawls over to her, his face so white. He puts his hand to her throat, bows his head. He looks up at me, shakes his head. She's gone

I open my eyes. Stare into brown eyes, deep, chocolate. Stare into the soul that was the better half of me. Her fingers are running through my hair, across my brow and cheek. I don't know how many times she soothed my nightmares like this. Was it just another bad dream? I miss you, I whisper. I know. But you have to keep going, Sam. You have to move on. I don't want to hear this

I open my eyes. And I am alone. The letter is a few inches away from my hand. I can't deny it any longer. Struggling to sit up, my body cold and stiff, I hold it in my hands a moment or two longer. The light's too dim to read so I reach over and turn on the lamp. I take a deep breath. And another. Okay. On the count of three. Fifteen and still counting. My fingers are shaking. Another deep breath. And I do it

The sheet of paper slides out. And I smell her so strongly that I can't help smiling. It hurts but it feels good at the same time

My darling Sam. Well, if you're reading this then I am no longer with you and I have broken the promise that we made to each other three years ago. I know that you will be in a very dark place right now and that you will be hurting. I don't want you to cut yourself off from everyone. I would hate to think that I did that to you. You mean so much to so many people. Let them help you through this. I don't have to tell you to keep an eye on Cassie. She is your daughter as much as she is mine. I hope you can help each other through this. Being with you has been the happiest time of my life. I am so lucky to have known you and to have loved you. Even luckier that you returned my love. We have had six years together that's more than a lot of people get. I wish it could have been more, but we don't always get what we wish for. I hope I died well. I hope that I made you proud of me. And now I want you to do something for me. Live, Sam. Be well and be happy not because I want you to be but because you deserve to be. And remember that I will always love you, no matter how far apart we are. Until we meet again. My love

I read it two, three times. I will hold it in my heart my memory forever, even if I never see the words again. There is a picture of Janet on the dressing table, a shot I took a couple of years ago that she really loved. She was walking in the park when I caught up with her. She looked up at me as I said her name and I took the picture. Carefully, I ease the back of the frame away from the mount and slip the letter inside. I put it all back together again and run my fingers gently down her face. "Good night, Janet," I whisper

The Letter 1

The Letter

by Celievamp