In the Beginning
by
Melissa Rivers
EMAIL: missy@lexicon.net
WEBSITE: http://www.oocities.org/missyliannem/sg1
CATEGORY: Episode Tag
SPOILERS: Major spoilers for Singularity - Season 1
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: What does motherhood hold? First person story.
STATUS: Complete
ARCHIVING: Heliopolis; Stargatefan; Otherwise, not without permission.
DISCLAIMER:Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double
Secret Productions and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes
only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
AUTHOR NOTES: Big thank you to Poss for taking on the role of editing for this story and
providing the correct technical details.
Motherhood. It has been thrust upon me without much planning at all. Correction - there was
no planning. Most mothers have at least nine months in which to prepare for the arrival of their
new child. Me? No, I don't do things the easy way at all. I take on a twelve year old who had
been the sole survivor of a Goa'uld's annihilation of a nation and subsequently used as a walking
time bomb to destroy our own world. Not only that, but I decide to do it as a single mother who
has an active and demanding job.
When Cassie had needed a home, I had willingly offered to take her. At first it had been only
until the right family was found, one which had the appropriate clearances and understanding of
her history. There hadn't been an influx of offers once her chequered history and age became
known.
Truth was, once she had come into my house, I had begun praying that they wouldn't be found.
My house had always been quiet when I arrived home from work - if I actually made it home at
all. Once Cassie was there, quietness was only something that existed in my sleep and I had a
reason to go home each night. To my relief, Cassie's unorthodox arrival on earth had dictated
that there was no chance of either of us undergoing the usual DCFS checks that go with adopting
a child.
Now, it was three months since she began living with me. Time had gone by quickly and so had
my sanity in some respects. Locked away in my office, free from the demands of my role as
Chief Medical Officer for the SGC, I fingered the telephone message that had been handed to me
fifteen minutes ago. I knew I had to return the call; the underlined and capitalised word
URGENT stressing its importance. I was pretty sure I knew what it was all about. It was the
third of such calls in as many weeks.
Dropping the note on to the pile of files cluttering my desk and waiting for final reports to be
written, I picked up the gold picture frame. Cassie's smiling face looked back at me, a hint of
cheekiness in the grin. Her eyes sparkled with happiness, her arms were thrust tightly around the
ruffled coat of the spitz dog Jack had given her. The photo had been taken three weeks after she
had begun living with me and already it seemed like a lifetime. On that occasion, things had been
going well and she was exploring her new surroundings on Earth with the vigour and zest for life
that only a child can muster.
It was only the night terrors that kept me grounded, reminding me that there was more going on
inside her head than she was letting on. As the weeks progressed, life in my house was as much
of a challenge as that of my work. More issues began rearing their heads and were needing to
be dealt with. It wasn't easy as some of the problems were interwoven while others had distinct
differences. Cassie didn't wait for me to get one challenge in hand before handing me another.
Now I knew what jugglers felt like when they had several balls in the air at once and all of them
decided that gravity was in vogue.
My medical degree did not prepare me for instant motherhood and my specialty was definitely
not in child psychiatry. There wasn't the option of using a child psychologist outside the SGC
and the military didn't exactly have staff equipped to deal with the problems I was facing. So
had begun the dance between Cassie and myself. I had always liked the waltz but it appeared that
Cassie preferred the Cha Cha - a dance style that always ensured I ended up with a splitting
headache.
Picking up the message again, I resigned myself to make the call. The longer I put it off, the
worse it would be. I wondered what my daughter had been up to at school this time.
"Mr. Robinson, this is Janet Fraiser - Cassandra's mother."
"Ah. Yes, Ms...Dr. Fraiser. I'm the Vice Principal at Cassandra's school. There has been
another incident today and her class teacher, Mrs. Struble, has brought her behaviour in recent
weeks to my attention."
"What happened this time?" I tried to make my voice as bland as possible, removing the dread
that was pervading my mind.
"Cassandra will not say what happened, but other students who witnessed the ah - altercaton
have said that there was a bit of name calling going on and Cassandra reacted violently to it."
"Violent? In what way?" I grimaced at the choice of words. Waiting for the answer, I ran my
fingers nervously through my hair. Violent was a rather harsh term to use with a twelve year
old, but, in light of her recent destructive behaviour with inanimate objects, it might be totally
appropriate.
"She punched a boy in the face. He suffered a blood nose. But there doesn't appear to be any
other injuries; other than wounded pride on his part."
I caught the faint undercurrent of laughter in those final words and was a bit surprised. I brushed
it aside. My concern right now was Cassandra. "What about Cassie?"
"Cassandra is having some time-out from the other children at the moment while I was waiting
to speak with you. She'll return to the classroom this afternoon." Mr Robinson paused for a
moment, seeming to choose his words carefully. "I am concerned about the recent deterioration
in her behaviour. Mrs. Struble has pointed out that over the last four weeks Cassandra has been
disruptive during class and her behaviour with other children has been antagonistic. Right now,
I think it would be of benefit to all if we can get together to discuss how to manage the
situation."
My mind screamed no, yet the words that came out of my mouth agreed with him. They had
betrayed me and I felt helpless to avoid the meeting. I couldn't believe that I, who managed to
keep even the most wayward Colonel O'Neill in line with a clipped tone and the threat of a
needle - or an enema or two - couldn't manage the antics of a twelve year old.
Arranging a suitable time for later that afternoon, I replaced the handset into the cradle. Tapping
my fingers on the handset, I thought for a moment before picking up phone again. Dialing a
familiar extension I waited patiently for it to be answered, subconsciously counting the number
of rings. I was just one ring off eight when the phone was finally picked up. I winced as a loud
clatter assaulted my ears before Daniel's breathless voice answered the phone.
"Busy, Daniel?" I could imagine the state of his office; books and files piled high on his desk,
several empty styrofoam coffee cups littering the small amount of available space, the cups void
of any trace of the coffee that Daniel had a tendency to use as his staple diet when engrossed.
"Ah, yes. I'm translating symbols on the artefacts brought back by SG5 from P3X236," Daniel
answered me distractedly.
Since he was obviously busy, I got straight to the point of my call. "I'm wondering if you will
be free later this afternoon?"
"Why?" he questioned, his curiosity drawing out the word.
"Cassandra is having some trouble at school..." I began, before being cut off.
"What sort of trouble?"
"Disruptive in class, fighting with other kids. You know the deal."
"Do you want me to talk to Cassandra?"
"Actually, I was only wanting someone to stay with her while I talked to the Vice Principal." I
was surprised that Daniel would think I wanted him to sit down and talk to Cassandra. But as
I thought about it, I shouldn't be surprised at all. Daniel was nothing if not willing to offer any
assistance to anyone in trouble.
"Dr. Fraiser, can you meet me for lunch? I think there is something I should discuss with you."
Now he had me totally confused. "Umm, all right. Would one thirty be okay?"
"One thirty's fine. I'll meet you at the mess."
I looked at the phone in my hand, wondering what the hell had just happened. A simple request
for Daniel to sit with Cassie while I talked to the Vice Principal had turned into a lunch date to
discuss something that had Daniel concerned enough to relinquish his translation of artefacts;
a cause for concern in my own mind as I knew how often Daniel would miss going to bed once
he became engrossed in his work.
<><><><><>
I was late. I did not run, but my pace was a clipped trot as I tried to hasten my arrival at the
commissary. Making my way through the familiar grey corridors, I responded automatically to
the occasional greeting from fellow officers without taking much notice as to whom I was
greeting.
It had been a busy morning, dealing with the standard medical clearances for SG2 and 3 returning
from a four day mission and then the orderly pace of my infirmary was turned upside down by
the unscheduled return of SG6 after their team was caught in a landslide. All the injuries were
relatively minor when you consider some of the trauma cases I have been faced with, but the
broken bones would put two members of the team out of action for at least eight weeks. In the
balance of all the trauma cases handled so far, SG1 was still miles ahead in the injury stakes.
Only Hippocrates and what was considered insider trading kept me from entering the betting pool
as to who would be the next person on SG1 to suffer an injury.
The commissary was buzzing with activity, the noise level voluble. I recognised the source of
all the cacophony as being SG2 and 3, enjoying the opportunity to relax after their tour of duty
and restriction to MREs during their travel. Their easy banter filled the room, providing a warm
backdrop to the sometimes starched atmosphere of the military command. I stood at the
doorway for a moment, searching through the milling sea of airmen for the unassuming
archaeologist, to finally locate him seated at a table in the far corner.
I made my way between the metal tables and chairs, side stepping around airmen carrying trays
laden with food. Daniel was engrossed, writing in a notebook, obviously working diligently on
some particular aspect of his work. His hand went out automatically to pick up the ever present
coffee mug and he took a sip without looking away from his work.
I slowly shook my head, smiling to myself, wondering why I didn't find coffee running through
his veins rather than blood. "Hey Daniel. I'm sorry I'm late."
"Dr. Fraiser. Have a seat." Daniel greeted me formally, waving his hand at the seat opposite
him. He quickly folded the piece of paper in front of him until it fit neatly between the pages of
his notebook and shut it quietly, before giving me his full attention. "Did you want to get
something to eat ?"
"Only if you do," I said, pointedly looking at his coffee cup, indicating that I really wanted to eat
something more fulfilling than coffee.
"Okay." Daniel gave a gentle smile as he gave in to my ploy . Obviously I'm not the first to
have used it on him.
It didn't take us long to collect some sandwiches and more coffee. Sitting down, we ate in
silence. I watched and waited for Daniel to initiate the first step of the purpose of our lunch.
Finally my patience wore thin and I avoided the subtle approach, getting straight down to
business.
"Daniel, I'm curious as to what you wish to discuss with me." I picked up my coffee cup and
took a sip as I watched Daniel closely, looking for an indication of what had instigated our
meeting.
He paused mid-bite, before placing the half-eaten sandwich back down on the plate and pushing
it aside.
"Uhmm, yes, well..." Daniel coughed a moment and cleared his throat. He hesitated, obviously
trying to broach whatever was on his mind without offending me. "You mentioned that Cassie
was having behavioural problems at school."
"Yes," I answered. I couldn't be offended by his inquiry, considering that I had called him to help
me later this afternoon for my eagerly anticipated parent-teacher meeting. Not. I rubbed my
fingers across my brow, trying to ease the slight pressure that was increasing behind my right eye.
Running my left finger around the top of the coffee mug in front of me, I told him what had
happened.
"The school bully?" Daniel pushed away his plate, his sandwich half-eaten.
"I have no idea." I frowned at his question. Granted, there had been a glimmer of something in
Mr. Robinson's words, but I wasn't about to make any assumption, nor condone Cassie's actions
if indeed it was the school bully she had hit. "What makes you think it would be?"
"Ah, just a hunch." Daniel was mimicking my actions, running his own finger around the top
of the mug and gazing into the charcoal depths. His blue eyes clouded as they shrouded
something beneath the surface that I wasn't able to identify.
I frowned, bowing my head as I searched my memory for an indication as to where this
conversation might be headed. When I raised my head again, Daniel's eyes were bright, but clear
of the murkiness that had visited them moments before. He questioned me directly. "How's
Cassie been settling in at home?"
"The six weeks or so was fine, but we've been having a few teething problems." I sat back in my
chair, trying to get comfortable talking about a situation that had me on my toes at the best of
times. A lot of the time I felt like I was on a ten metre high dive board, balancing precariously
on the edge, biding my time to get the nerve to jump and make an exquisite entrance into the
water, when someone pushes me off the edge and I hit the water with the grace of an elephant.
"The honeymoon and the testing period."
"What?" I looked at him, his comment surprising me and pulling me quickly out of my self-pity.
"The honeymoon period when a child is placed in a new environment. They tend to be on their
best behaviour, making the new carer want to keep them. Once they have established their place
in the house, they begin testing the waters so to speak."
"It sounds like you know a bit about it."
"Let's just say I practised the technique often enough."
I looked at Daniel quizzically, surprised by the revelation. "You were adopted?"
"No. No one decided I was worth the effort," Daniel said matter-of-factly, the words devoid of
emotion.
Looking at his face, his eyes gazing resolutely down into the inky black depths of the coffee mug
cradled tightly within his hand, I realised that he had steeled the words to be without feeling.
Yet, I knew that they were painful and wondered just how many foster homes that he had been
through. "How old were you when your parents died?"
"Eight."
Not much younger than Cassie. Yet close enough in age to be like Cassie, able to remember the
love and care and the stablility that a family provided; something that Daniel had obviously lost
on their death.
I reached over and laid my hand on top of his, avoiding voicing any platitudes. No words could
encompass the loss he had endured. Daniel raised his eyes to meet mine, his eyes faintly
glistening behind the protection of his glasses.
"Can we go somewhere else to talk?"
I nodded. The atmosphere in the room was becoming vocal, the men laughing amongst
themselves and our solemn discussion totally out of place. I thought about possible places we
could go. My office was out of the question; the moment someone knew I was in, an urgent case
would arise and I instinctively knew that this talk of ours would not happen twice. "What about
your office?" While it wasn't the most comfortable place, it would probably be the one where
Daniel would relax in the comfort of his surroundings.
<><><><><>
I walked by Daniel's side to his office and he altered his gait to accommodate my shorter step.
When I had first noticed the slight limp in my early days in the SGC, I had been concerned that
he had an injury which he wasn't disclosing. It had not taken me long to realise that it was a habit
that he adopted on occasion and nothing that I should need to concern myself about.
It's amazing how easily a person can be boxed and labelled based on their looks and career path.
The halls of the SGC were rife with varying stories of Daniel's exploits during his of his start in
the Stargate programme. Not having been involved from the beginning, I was reliant upon the
rumours that came my way and my access to mission reports to decipher his unusual start as the
only civilian involved in our search of the galaxy.
Through the details of his inauguration into the programme by Dr. Langford, the exploits on
Abydos and his subsequent year long sojourn on the planet, I'd been able to get a glimpse of the
man I knew through the coloured glasses of the military.
However, the military had never been one to deal with mission reports on a personal level and
it was through knowing Daniel that I'd been able to learn that his reasons for going through the
Stargate were a combination of his quest to find his wife, stolen as a host by the Goa'uld, coupled
with his omniscient search for the anthropological history of the galaxy.
Daniel had surprised me with his revelation. It made me sit up and take another look at the man
who had solved the mysteries of the Stargate in a matter of two weeks, while it had been an
enigma to the military, defying the explanation of the best military and civilian minds - Sam
included.
My thoughts were brought sharply back to the present when I collided with an airman as we
rounded the corner to Daniel's office. Looking across at Daniel, it was obvious that he had also
been lost in thought, most likely remembering a past he sought hard to forget. We both muttered
our apologies and I realised that we had almost arrived at his office.
I felt guilty that I had been the cause of bringing back those memories; the pain had been clearly
evident, though Daniel had attempted to cover it.
Daniel's office was open and he turned on the desk lamps, a gentle yellow glow illuminating the
surrounding area and leaving the corners of the room shrouded in shadows. Daniel fished in his
pocket for his keycard, checking for the metallic strip, before running it through the system and
the door slid closed behind me.
Entering his domain, I could feel myself being absorbed by the aura within the room. I'm not
sure what it was exactly, whether it was the unique artifacts, the books containing the history and
diversity of languages and ancestry sitting on the shelves or just the singularity of Daniel and his
passion set against the backdrop of the military. It was different; Daniel was different.
"Coffee?" Daniel asked, moving across towards a small table to the left, a percolator with
recently brewed coffee in the pot.
I nodded, realising for the first time the source of the other aroma which filled the room.
I was surprised again. Whenever I had been in Daniel's office, it had always been in disarray;
files piled haphazardly across his desk and books of various thicknesses opened for ready
consultation. I wallowed in his ability to do so, the impeccable tidiness engendered by military
training breaking my old habits and I had always enjoyed the break from tradition.
Right now his office was spotlessly clean. His books sat upright like soldiers standing at
attention, their usual lackadaisical pose corrected. The desk was clearly visible, files stacked
neatly to the left hand side, pens and pencils sitting in their container. I squinted as I observed
the container more closely; each pen was capped with a lid and every pencil was razor sharp,
having obviously been sharpened within a millimeter of breaking.
I pursed my lips. For a man who had been engrossed in translation of artifacts only a couple of
hours ago, his office didn't give any sign of it. Not for the Daniel that I knew.
A mug of coffee appeared suddenly under my nose and I realised that I had once again been
engrossed in my own thoughts. I took the mug and sat down in the proffered seat. I smiled at
Daniel and commented on how tidy his office was, trying to ease our way back towards the
discussion we had begun.
"Ah, yeah, well..." Daniel paused for a moment, tilting his mug towards him as he contemplated
it again. He seemed to gain the confidence and strength to continue, "After your call, I couldn't
concentrate and it seemed like the best thing to do."
"Daniel, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable..." I began, but he cut me off before I could
finish.
"It's not so much that I'm uncomfortable talking about it, but that I really haven't discussed it with
anyone. There hasn't been any reason or opportunity where it has been .... appropriate." His
voice was quiet, his enunciation slow and distinct.
"Obviously you think that it would help Cassie."
"Yes I do. Dr. Fraiser..."
"Janet," I cut him off and corrected.
"Janet." Daniel inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement of my permission. "What is the
one thing that stands out the most in your childhood?" Daniel leaned forward, resting his elbows
on his knees as he sipped his drink.
I had to think about that one. One particular event that stood out against everything else. I had
trouble defining one; there were several that dominated my childhood - good and bad ones. I'm
not one to usually discuss my feelings openly, but I felt compelled to follow Daniel's lead,
intuitively knowing that he was leading me towards understanding.
"It's hard to say, there are several that I remember. A sad one is the day my dog died. Funnily
enough, his name was Jack. I was eight years old. I can still clearly remember my Mom telling
me after we returned from the vet that he was old, but that he was going to be around for a little
while yet. He died that night sleeping on the end of my bed. I screamed when I woke up and
realised he was dead, that he'd died without me being able to say goodbye." Even now as I told
Daniel about it, the words caught in my throat and my eyes watered as I remembered the small
black and white body on the end of my bed, cold and stiff, his normally pink mouth tinged blue.
"Death impacts strongly, especially on the young. For myself, it was the death of my parents -
deaths that I witnessed and relived many times over in my mind, wondering if I could have made
a difference, if there was something I could have changed that would have made everything
okay."
"Daniel, you were only eight years old. How could you have made a difference?"
"I could have warned them; I could have died with them." His voice quavered slightly and I
knew that he honestly had constantly questioned whether he could have saved them.
"Daniel..."
"Janet, I'm just pointing out a kid's way of looking at traumatic events that occur in their lives.
That's the way I thought about my parents' death. You have already said that you regretted being
unable to say goodbye to your dog before he died. That's how you perceived your actions - or
lack of actions."
"And extrapolating from that, Cassie will be putting her own slant on why she survived when
everyone else died?"
"It's an educated guess." Daniel put his untouched cup of coffee down on the desk beside him.
"Only Cassie can give us an idea what she is thinking. She witnessed the death of not only her
parents, but her entire race. She suffered an immeasurable loss. We don't even know how long
she was alone on that planet."
"So I should sit her down and talk to her about it."
"I don't think it'll be quite that simple. There are other more practical ways to encourage her to
discuss what she is feeling. Do you remember how your parents helped you cope with the loss
of your dog?"
"We held a little funeral and buried him in the backyard." My parents had prepared a little
speech and I was even able to say a few words goodbye, words that I had been unable to say
while he was alive.
"What your parents did was give you a chance to grieve. Cassie really hasn't been given that
opportunity. With Nirrti's attempt at using her to destroy earth, she was thrust into a worse
situation. While she has gained new life on this world, we can't forget how much she has lost
of her own world, of her heritage. One thing that I was unable to do as a kid was talk about the
loss of my parents, of my identity. No one thought it was healthy for a child to remember the
death of his parents. They forgot that I would also want to remember the good times with my
parents. Cassie needs to talk about her past, not only about what happened to destroy it, but to
also remember what her origins were and the love of her parents."
"But won't this break down the bonding process, to keep re-introducing her past, reminding her
of what she has lost?" I voiced the fear that had prevented me from bringing up what had
happened. I wanted a happy, wholesome child and I didn't want to keep reminding her of what
had brought her into my care in the first place. It was a selfish fear, but if I was honest, what was
the reason I hadn't wanted to discuss her past. Was it to protect her or myself?
"Cassie knows what she has lost. She needs to come to terms with that loss and also trust that
you will not come between her and her memories. She needs to nurture them for her own good."
"So how do I go about encouraging her? I've tried to make her feel that my home is her home,
decorating her room as she wants. She's got the dog that Jack gave her and she's begun
swimming lessons."
"Give her your unconditional love. Bear with her during these difficult times. Try to understand
what is motivating her behavioural problems." Daniel reached out and caught my hand. "Janet,
we are all here to help you; Jack, Sam, Teal'c, General Hammond."
I felt my eyes begin to fill as I realised that I had not sought out the family that had been a part
of Cassie's life from the beginning. I had been trying to handle it all on my own, denying that
I needed any help. What was it that I told all my staff? It was not a crime to ask a question if you
don't know the answer. The crime would be trying to assume you knew the answer and risked
a life in the process. It was now time to take a bit of my own advice.
"I know you can't really seek help outside the SGC, but there are other avenues. There are lots
of resource books on adopting older children and there's always the internet. You'd be amazed
at the amount of information you can find."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Daniel, said getting up off his chair. He went across to his computer, turning it on. "Do
you want to see some websites and discussion lists?"
"Why not? I'll take all the help I can get." I gave him a smile as I pulled up my chair beside him
and we began to surf the technological whizz that now provided a wealth of previously
unattainable and closeted information to the broader public.
The End
AUTHOR FINAL NOTES: Children are never easy and adoption makes it all the more
challenging without the added aspect of the older child. To quote one of the leaflets "Raising any
child, adopted or homegrown, includes hard work, tears and many discouragements. The happy
outcomes are hard-won victories. In adopting older children, the challenge to children and
parents is greater - but so are the rewards.".
I don't know if there are actual support groups on the 'net providing the type of assistance that
I mentioned in this story, However, I do know that there are 'net support groups for those going
through Intercountry Adoption for Romania and China programmes. In Victoria, Aust., there are
three major intercountry adoption parent support groups being ASIAC Vic.; IAPA and FACTS.
Resources used for story - Australian Society for Intercounty Aid (Children) Victoria; Adopting
an Older Child; Department of Human Services Intercounty Adoption Service.