Think of the Good

Author: Geonn

Email: neil_j_miser@yahoo.com

Rating: R

Pairings: Sam/Janet

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: These folks don't belong to me. I stole them from MGM's toybox without asking their mommies for permission. I promise to return them more or less unscathed.

Spoilers: Meridian, Seth, Fair Game, In The Line of Duty, Fire and Water

Summary: Janet comforts Sam after the botched attempt to save Daniel's life.


Sam used her card to access the door to her lab, sliding in and keying it closed before it had a chance to get halfway open. Not bothering with the lights, she paced back and forth in front of her desk. Even without seeing, she knew what was lying on her desk blotter; reports. Reports on the Stargate and of wormhole physics and trying to figure out the how of what they do on a daily basis. She no longer cared about the how; all she wanted to know was the why.

Why did they run all over the galaxy, sticking their collective nose where it didn't belong? So what if Jonas and his people had blown themselves to hell? It was one of a million planets they had visited and the people there were basically enemies now anyway. So they had failed to make an ally and one of her best friends was dying. Talk about justice...

Why did they bother to fight the Goa'uld? Earth was protected... She shook her head, knowing that this was a lie. But if they hadn't gone through the Stargate in the first place, the Goa'uld never would've never learned how far humanity had advanced. Daniel wouldn't be dying. Countless others like Kawalsky, Hawkins, Rothman, Colonel Boyd and it seemed a million others wouldn't have met their ends because of a goddamned ring.

Her eyes had started to adjust to the darkness of the room. She could make out vague shapes of objects and managed to tell what they were due to her familiarity with the lab. She picked up a mug, running her fingers over the smooth surface. She could still feel the heavy weight of the Goa'uld healing device that she had taken out of storage for the express purpose of healing her friend... but all she had managed to do was hurt him more.

Tears formed in her eyes. Though she couldn't read the words without the light on, she knew the mug she was holding bore the saying "World's Bestest Syentist." She used it to hold various pens and pencils. The mug had been a gift from Daniel. She had never told the man how much he meant to her... she had never said how much she loved him. Not love-love... she had loved Daniel like a brother, even more in some ways than her flesh-and-blood brother.

It was as if they had been made for each other; she had been a brilliant astrophysicist so used to talking over people's heads that it shocked her to discover this man knew what the hell she was talking about. She couldn't count how many times she had wanted to tell him how much he meant to her... but the time was drawing near.

The last time Daniel had been thought dead, she had promised herself to tell him everything when things calmed down. But she had chickened out, as always. Gripping the handle of the mug, she turned and hurled it at the wall with all her might. As her fingers released the handle, she roared loudly in anger and pain. The shattering of the mug coincided with the shattering of her interior walls; Daniel was dying and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

She sobbed loudly, moving across the floor and kneeling in the mess she had just made. Ceramic shards sliced into her knees and she grimaced at the pain. She gingerly lifted a few of the pieces, rolling one along her fingertips before letting it fall again. She stood slowly, ignoring the pain in her knees and turned to the desk. Reports, readouts, schematics, ratios... none of it mattered anymore. All they needed to know was the Stargate opened, the Stargate closed and good people died as a result. She wailed loudly, sweeping one arm across the desk and sending stacks of papers into the air. She lifted the keyboard of her computer, wielding it like a sword and slamming it mercilessly into the cement wall until the buttons began popping off.

Dropping the useless board, she turned to the monitor. She lifted it from the desktop and hurled it to the ground. The resulting explosion of circuits and servos brightened the room for an instant. Seeing nothing more to destroy (at least, nothing that wouldn't cost millions of dollars to replace), she simply began to scream. She screamed obscenities, she cursed the name of every Goa'uld and every high-ranking Air Force officer she could think of. They had made the Stargate a reality; Daniel's blood was on their hands.

She fell to her knees during her tirade, hugging herself as her tears ran dry. She didn't notice the door lock being over-ridden or the petite intruder step inside the darkness. The door had been closed and locked once more before Sam felt the gentle hands on her shoulders. "Get off of me," she sighed. "Please, just leave me alone."

"No," the one word was simple, but firm. Sam sniffled, knowing the other person well enough to know she wasn't leaving. The unbelievably soft hands moved to Sam's shoulders, squeezing them softly and then prompting the major to stand. Sam reluctantly rose, turning and looping her arms around the other woman's waist. Her voice gone, Sam simply wept into the shorter woman's brunette hair. She wept for Daniel. She wept for Martouf, for Jolinar, for Narim, for Elliot, for all the people who had gone through the Gate on missions and never returned.

She clutched the doctor's lab jacket, her eyes running until there were no more tears to be shed. She felt Janet's lips on her ear, softly shushing the taller woman's weeping. Sam leaned into the soft caress, closing her eyes and fighting back her sobs. "I wanted to help," she said, her voice hoarse. "But every time I use a damn Goa'uld device, I do damage. I killed Seth, I... I couldn't..." She sobbed. "What good is the ability to use Goa'uld technology if all I can do is cause damage?"

Janet didn't offer platitudes; she didn't try to say it would be all right because they both knew it wouldn't. Janet pulled back a little, then whispered, "Think of the good."

At first, Sam wanted to ask 'What Good?' There could be no good from the Stargate. But slowly, she began to realize what the doctor was talking about. Most evident was the fact that their assignments at the SGC had led the women to each other. Janet had been living in Oklahoma before the program started and Sam had been assigned to Washington, DC. Without the Stargate, they probably would never have even met and fallen in love. They would never have found Cassandra, regardless of the circumstances that led her to be their daughter.

She never would've met Daniel or had the five wonderful years she had spent with him. She never would've known the loyalty of Teal'c or the friendship of Colonel O'Neill. Her father would've been dead three years from cancer. Narim would've died five years earlier than he did. And even her usage of Goa'uld technology hadn't been entirely a bad thing. She had managed to save Cronus' life during the Asgard summit, thereby sealing the deal to make Earth a protected planet.

The two women kissed softly as Sam remembered the good times... recalled how much good the Stargate had done rather than the bad. The major cupped the back of Janet's head and her tears started anew; though they weren't necessarily tears of sadness. Slowly, her hands drifted out of the doctor's hair and found the lapels of her white lab coat. Lifting the crisp material off of Janet's shoulders, Sam led Janet to the desk and maneuvered herself between the brunette's legs.

"I love you, Janet," Sam whispered.

Janet stroked her lover's face and repeated the affirmation, kissing Sam's closed eyelids. Slowly, they made love to each other in the darkness of Sam's lab before heading back to the reality that waited in the infirmary. When they returned to Daniel's bedside several hours later, he was still dying... the Asgard were still unavailable and they hadn't heard from the Tok'ra... but somehow Sam knew everything would turn out all right.

At the end of their long vigil, as she watched Daniel's ascended form rise over the hospital bed before disappearing, Sam recalled Janet's words from the darkened lab. Thinking of the good things didn't necessarily mean blind optimism. It meant hope... hope that everything would turn out okay, even if the result wasn't precisely what they had wanted. Sam looked at the spot where Daniel had disappeared a long time after the glow had faded.

Daniel was no longer there, but he wasn't dead. And there was hope for a brighter future.

End


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