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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The psychologist got there at a little after one.  She started the session out by talking a bit about her own childhood.  She'd spent some time on her grandfather's reservation and shared some of her experiences with Danny.  This was in an effort to gain more of the boy's trust.  Yes, some in her profession would frown upon her bringing her own personal life into things, but Meredith's philosophy was putting the patient first.  Though she certainly wouldn't share personal things with every child she treated, making use of Danny's interest in various cultures might be just the thing to do.

Very subtly, Meredith steered the conversation in the direction she wanted to go.  She talked about the death of her grandfather when she was twelve, how sad it had been to see such a strong man felled by a stroke.  She spoke of the burial ceremony that was performed by the tribe.  Danny grew quiet, not saying anything more, his gaze focused on his lap.

When she stopped talking, there was silence.  After several seconds had passed, Meredith prepared to speak again.  Much to her surprise, someone else beat her to it.

"When I first woke up in the hospital, I didn't want to believe it was real," Daniel murmured, his gaze on the floor.  Danny immediately looked at him.  "I wanted to believe it had been a nightmare.  But I was in that hospital, and Mom and Dad weren't there.  I knew they would never have left me alone, if they were still alive.  That's when I knew it was all real."

Danny slipped his hand into Daniel's.

"I built a shell around myself to protect me," Daniel continued.  "I shut everyone out.  Every time I went to sleep, I had the nightmares, and Mom and Dad weren't there to chase them away.  No one was."  He swallowed the tightness in his throat.  "When Nick came, I wanted so desperately for him to take me away, to be a real grandfather, someone who'd love me and make things better.  When he didn't do that, when he turned right around and left again after the funeral and a breakfast of waffles, I decided not to let myself love or need anybody, because everyone just went away."

Being a child psychologist who had dealt with a lot of emotionally shattered children, Meredith still found herself being deeply affected by Daniel's words, perhaps because he was not a child.  He was a grown man recounting a terrible childhood experience that he had clearly never fully healed from.  First, he'd lost his parents, then he was abandoned by his own grandfather, one devastating blow on top of another.  Meredith wished that she'd been there back then to help that deeply wounded little boy, to give him the love and security he'd needed.

Daniel took a deep, slightly unsteady breath.  "It wasn't until a year or so later that the anger came.  I was angry at Mom and Dad for leaving me, for leaving me alone to be taken care of by strangers.  They should have been more careful.  They shouldn't have been there, under that coverstone.  They shouldn't--"

Daniel halted abruptly, as if he'd just realized what he had revealed.  Distressed, he looked at Danny.  The boy's eyes were huge wells of anguish and sorrow.

"Danny, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to say that.  Yes, I was mad at them for a while, but I know they just made a mistake.  The possible consequences didn't enter their mind.  They were just too . . . wrapped up in the work.  If the chain hadn't snapped, they'd have been fine.  That wasn't their fault."

Danny began to cry, and Daniel pulled him into his arms.  Dammit.  The last thing he'd wanted Danny to hear was about the blame Daniel had placed upon his parents for their death.  Standing beneath that coverstone had been utterly foolhardy and irresponsible.  Once Daniel had been old enough to realize that, the anger and resentment had started.  That had been the one and only time throughout those years that could be considered destructive.  He'd spent a lot of time throwing rocks in a drainage ditch near his foster home.

Daniel didn't know how long the anger would have lasted if it hadn't been for Father Reilly.  Daniel's foster parents at the time were devout Catholics and went to church regularly.  It was possible that one of them had spoken to the priest about their concerns over Daniel, or perhaps he'd noticed the change in Daniel's attitude himself.  Regardless of the reason, one day, he sat Daniel down to talk.  It took several minutes of probing questions, but Daniel had finally blurted out that his mom and dad were stupid for what they did, that he was all alone because they were stupid.

With infinite patience and understanding, Father Reilly had explained to the nine year old Daniel that his parents were human and, like all humans, they made a mistake.  They hadn't put themselves in danger on purpose.  They had simply underestimated the risk.  Daniel took the words to heart, and the anger eventually faded away, though the knowledge of his parents' blame in what happened always remained.

As Danny continued to cry, Meredith did not speak.  She just sat and watched Daniel attempt to comfort the boy.  She had nothing but admiration for what he'd just done.  He had bared that deeply personal pain for Danny's sake, obviously in response to what she had said to him yesterday.  That had taken a lot of strength and courage . . . and a lot of love.  Daniel had revealed that, as a child, he decided never to let himself love or need anyone again, yet it was pretty clear that he had a great deal of love within him.  Kind, compassionate souls like him could not help but love, though they may not allow themselves to need anyone.

Danny finally stopped crying, though he remained very withdrawn.  Meredith was about to suggest that she leave when he spoke.

"It was their fault."

The whispered words made Daniel curse himself all over again.  He was about to say something when Meredith held up her hand, indicating that she'd handle it.

"In a way, yes, it was," she said to the boy.  "They made the decision to stand under that coverstone, a place they should have realized was too dangerous to be.  It was a mistake, a mistake that cost their lives, but that's all it was, a mistake.  Danny, people do stupid, dangerous things all the time without thinking about it, without stopping to consider what might happen.  A few weeks ago, there was a story in the papers about a man who was severely burned because he was smoking a cigarette while handling gasoline."

"But gasoline can catch on fire," Danny said in a little voice.

"Yes, and he knew that, but he did it anyway.  He figured that he'd be okay as long as the cigarette didn't get near the gas.  He was wrong.  He made a foolish mistake, and he paid the price."

Danny appeared to be deep in thought.  "When I was six, I climbed up onto a wall because I wanted to walk across the top.  I fell and broke my arm.  Dad told me that it was a foolish thing to do because the wall was so high."

Meredith pounced on the experience.  "Exactly.  You thought that you'd be fine, that you could walk across that wall without any problems, didn't you."

Danny nodded.

"I bet you didn't really even consider that you might fall."

The boy's head ducked.  "No."

"You made a mistake, Danny, just like your parents did.  They thought that chain would hold the coverstone, and they'd be safe."

Daniel recalled the recreation of his parents' deaths by the Keeper.  At one point, his mother had gotten nervous when the coverstone started swinging.  Dad had said, "It's okay.  It's fine.  We'll be fine."  That was a detail of the accident that Daniel had forgotten, something resurrected by the Keeper.  His father had been sure they would be all right.

"They made a mistake," Danny said.

"Yes."

The boy looked up at Daniel.  "You know that it was a mistake?" he asked, apparently needing confirmation that the older version of himself felt that way.

Daniel caressed his face.  "Yes, Danny, I know it was a mistake."

Danny rested his head on Daniel's chest.  "I really miss them a lot," he whispered.

"I know," Daniel murmured.

Danny started crying again.  "Sometimes, I have dreams that they're okay.  They run up to me and hug me and kiss me.  But then I wake up, and they're still dead."

Daniel closed his eyes.  "I did, too," he revealed.

"You did?"

"Yeah.  I also had good dreams that turned bad.  I once dreamed that we went to Disneyland, but there was a ride that went through an Egyptian tomb.  The coverstone was there and fell on them."

"I dreamed that we went back to Egypt and were on a big dig.  The coverstone was there."

Meredith sat and watched silently as man and child talked about the dreams each of them had experienced.  This was wonderful, very good therapy for Danny, and, perhaps, for Daniel as well.

"My very best dream," Danny said, "was that Mom and Dad were alive, and they were here, in this time.  You and everybody else were here, too.  I had both of my families."

That statement almost broke Daniel's control.  He fought the tears, holding them back as he tightened his arms around Danny.

"That would be wonderful," he said in a rough, emotion-filled voice.

"Yeah."

Though Meredith hated to interrupt, she knew that this was a good time to begin digging deeper into Danny's emotions.

"Do you have a lot of nightmares, Danny?" she asked.

"Not as many as before," he replied.  "I don't have them every night."

"Are the nightmares getting better?  Are they not as bad as they used to be?"

Danny glanced at Daniel uncertainly.

"It's all right.  No matter what you say, I won't be mad," Daniel told him.

"Some are pretty bad," Danny confessed, "but not as bad as the ones I used to have, except for when I have a dream that something really bad happens to Daniel."

Meredith glanced at Daniel, then back to the boy.  "You have dreams of something terrible happening to Daniel?"

Danny nodded his head.

"Do you know why you have those dreams?"

Danny's arms tightened around Daniel's waist.  In a whisper, he replied, "Because I'm afraid he'll die, too."

Meredith recognized this as one of the biggest psychological issues Danny was dealing with, the fear of losing more people that he loved.  Daniel had clearly also suffered with that fear when this happened to him.  It was possible that he still had it, at least to a certain extent.  Meredith had high hopes that, as long as Danny didn't suffer another devastating loss, this fear would fade to a more normal level.

Fearing the death of a loved one was tricky to treat.  You couldn't lie and say that it was never going to happen.

"I do understand why you have that fear, Danny," Meredith said.  "Adults worry a lot about losing loved ones."

"They do?"

"Oh, yes.  I worry about something happening to someone in my family or one of my friends.  I'm betting that Daniel worries about that as well."

Danny looked up at Daniel, who nodded.

"Yes, I do," he confirmed.  "Most of all, I worry about something happening to you or Sam."

This seemed to surprise Danny.  "You worry about me dying?"

Daniel nodded.

"What do you do when you're scared that will happen?"

"Mostly, I try not to think about it.  I try to push it out of my mind and think about other stuff, like work or pleasant things."

Meredith nodded to herself.  Pushing bad thoughts out of your mind and concentrating on other things was a very common coping mechanism.  Many experts would say it was the wrong tactic, that you have to face negative thoughts and fears in order to overcome them, but that was not always possible for a young child, who lacked the mental and emotional maturity to confront their fears and successfully move beyond them.  The fear of a loved one dying was particularly difficult.  It wasn't a personal fear, like a fear of flying, or snakes, or public speaking.  It couldn't be treated by going out and confronting the thing you fear.

"Death is a fact of life," the psychologist said.  "It happens to every living thing on Earth.  We can't change that.  All we can do is accept it and try to live our lives the best that we can and to give all the love we can to our friends and family for as long as they are with us."  She met the archeologist's eyes.  "Daniel, if you could talk to your parents today, what would you tell them?"

"I'd . . . I'd tell them that I miss them, that I love them, and . . . I'd thank them for all they did for me, for being the good parents that they were and for giving me eight years if happiness in a world that I loved."

"What if you could change history, rearrange things so that you were not born to Melburn and Claire Jackson, but to someone else instead, parents who were not so loving and didn't give you the joy you experienced during those first eight years of your life?  Would you do it if it meant that you would still have those parents with you today?"

It didn't take long for Daniel to answer.  "No," he replied.  "No, I wouldn't.  Growing up in foster care, I knew what it was like to have parents who really didn't care about me.  It is a terrible and lonely way to live.  I wouldn't give up those eight years I had with Mom and Dad for fifty years with parents who didn't love me like they did."

Meredith nodded, having suspected that's the answer Daniel would give.  She looked at the boy beside him.  "And what about you, Danny?  Would you give up the memories of those eight years with your mom and dad in exchange for other parents who would still be alive?"

Danny shook his head, tears pooling again in his eyes.  "I wouldn't have wanted anybody else to be my parents.  They were the best mom and dad in the whole world."

"And what about Daniel?  If you knew that something was going to happen to him soon that would take him away from you forever, would you rather go live with someone else, somebody who would still be alive many years from now?"

Danny buried his head against Daniel, holding onto him tightly.  "No, I wouldn't want to live with somebody else instead."

Meredith gazed at the child tenderly.  "Then that's what you have to think about, Danny, that you have Daniel now, that, no matter how long or short a time he is in your life, you were lucky to have him be the one to take care of you and love you as much as he does.  A year with love is better than a whole lifetime without it."

The woman got to her feet.  "I think it's time for me to go.  I'll come back for another visit tomorrow, okay?"

"Danny, is it okay if I walk Meredith out to her car?" Daniel asked the boy in his arms.

Upon receiving a nod, Daniel gave Danny a little squeeze, then rose from the couch.  He accompanied the psychologist out to her car.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome.  But I should also be thanking you.  Talking about your own experiences was what enabled me to get through to him so quickly.  I know how difficult it was for you."

"Danny's worth it."

"Yes, he is."

"Do you think what you said will help him?"

"I believe so.  Danny is a special child.  He is not just more intelligent than the average eight-year-old, he also has a greater level of understanding about life.  He has a great deal of wisdom for a child his age.  Many children would not be able to grasp the concept that it is better to have a short time with people who love you than to have many years with people who don't, but I believe Danny does understands that.  I'm hoping that this leads to him finding some peace within himself about the reality of your death at some future time.  Of course, he is always going to fear it, and the thought of you dying will always upset him, but the best outcome would be for that fear to reach a more normal level and stop causing repeated nightmares.  Like all of us, he needs to find joy in the time that we have with loved ones and be grateful for that time, no matter how short it is."

Daniel nodded, knowing she was right.  Though it had only been a year and a few months, he would always be grateful for the time he'd had with Sha're.

A thought came to Daniel just then, something that he'd been worrying about.  He wasn't sure if it was appropriate to approach Meredith about it, though.  But then, she was a child psychologist.

"Uhhh . . . there is something I've been concerned about.  It's . . . kind of personal."

"What's that?"

"Well, I told you that Sam and I are in a relationship.  She has stayed the night here more than once, and Danny knows this, but. . . ."

"But he doesn't know about sex," Meredith guessed, seeing the look of discomfort on the man's face.

"He knows some of the basics about reproduction," the archeologist explained, "that a baby is created from the sperm of a man and the egg of a woman, although he doesn't know the actual word 'sperm'.  He just doesn't know about the, uh, process.  Back when I was that age, kids knew less about sex than they do now.  That is the era Danny's memories are from, so he's as innocent about it as I was.  Sam and I have been avoiding telling him anything.  To be honest, we've been dodging it like crazy, but I've begun to realize something.  Danny will be starting school in the fall, and he will most likely be going into the fourth grade."

"Ah, yes.  I see the problem.  Sooner or later, he's going to start hearing things from the other students."

"Yeah.  He'll be in a class with ten and eleven-year-olds, and you can bet that someone is going to make comments that will pique Danny's interest.  There's also the danger of him seeing things on TV.  I've been careful up till now about what he watches, but it's only a matter of time before he sees something sex related that will raise questions."

"Are you asking me what you think you should do about this?"

Daniel shifted uncomfortably.  "Uh . . . yeah, I guess I am."

"Well, it is true that American children these days get a lot of their knowledge about sex from other kids and from TV and movies.  This is because sex is a subject that most parents feel very uncomfortable talking about with their kids.  They avoid sitting down with their children and explaining all the facts.  Unfortunately, not talking about sex with your kids can result in them experimenting with it far sooner than they should out of curiosity, which often leads to teen pregnancies.  Obviously, Danny's not old enough yet to worry about that, but he'll be at that age before you know it."

"So, you're recommending that Sam and I talk to him about it?"

"Perhaps a little," Meredith replied, "but, though he is a very intelligent boy, he is still only eight.  Has he ever seen animals mate?"

"Um, I don't know.  He watches Animal Planet, so it's possible.  He has seen animals give birth.  When he . . . when I was seven, I watched the birth of a camel.  I was amazed by the whole thing.  Actually, I recall now that it was shortly after that that Mom and Dad explained the birds and bees to me.  I had all kinds of questions that they couldn't avoid.  I knew before then that babies were carried inside their mothers' stomachs, but nothing more."

"What I'd recommend is that you let him watch a program that shows a pair of mammals mating.  If he asks you about what they're doing, tell him.  Explain that's how babies are created.  He may or may not ask if it's the same with people.  If he does, tell him the truth.  Don't hedge, but also don't tell him more than he needs to know to answer his question.  He doesn't have to know all the facts about the sex act and the differences in male and female genitalia.  That should be reserved for when he is a few years older, but before he reaches puberty.  It is likely that, once he goes into middle school, he will eventually have some kind of life science class, what people sometimes call sex education.  Before then, he really should know enough about the process that he won't be taken by surprise by what he learns in the class."

Daniel nodded.  "Thanks."

Meredith laid a hand on his arm.  "You are doing a good job with him, Daniel.  I know that suddenly becoming a parent to a child isn't easy, especially becoming a single parent, but, from all I've seen and heard, you are doing wonderfully.  Danny is very lucky to have you."

Daniel's gaze fell to the ground.  "I just want him to have a happy life with a lot of love in it."

Meredith looked at him closely.  "You want him to have what you didn't," she ventured to say, hoping she hadn't stepped over the line.  Though she specialized in child psychology, the time she had spent in Daniel's company had given her a good picture of the kind of man he was and how the things he'd gone through as a child had shaped his personality.

Daniel's gaze went to the house.  "Yes," he said, in a soft, low voice.  "I don't ever want him to be alone."

"He has you, Daniel, and he has your teammates and a lot of other people who care about him.  None of us can predict what the future will bring, but I don't think you ever have to worry about Danny not having someone to love him."


When Sam arrived, she could see right away that both Danny and Daniel were a bit on the subdued side, especially the boy.

The major knelt and gave the child a big hug.  "Hey.  Are you okay?"  When he didn't answer, she looked up at Daniel.

"It was a rough session," he explained.

Sam gave Danny another hug, running a hand through his hair, then she got to her feet.  "Well, you two can just sit and relax tonight.  I'm making dinner."  She walked over to the grocery bag she'd placed by the door.

"That isn't necessary, Sam," Daniel insisted.

"I know, but I want to.  I've brought all the stuff with me."

"Well, okay, but the least we can do is help."  Daniel looked down at Danny.  "Right?"

The boy nodded.

The dinner preparation was a joint effort, the adults giving Danny the easy things to do.  After the meal was over, they all watched TV.  Danny got tired early that night and was in bed by 8:30.

"Okay, so are you going to tell me what happened and what's been bugging you?" Sam asked as they began washing dishes.

Daniel sighed softly.  "Yesterday, when she couldn't get Danny to open up about Mom and Dad, Meredith asked me if I'd be willing to talk about how their deaths affected me.  She thought that me talking about it would encourage Danny to do the same.  I . . . didn't react well to the request.  I tensed up and basically refused.  It was a knee jerk reaction.  Afterwards, I ended up telling her about the misdiagnosis and commitment to Mental Health."

"I'm sorry.  I know that's a touchy subject for you."  The fact was that Daniel never talked about it, unless he had to.  It had become one of the subjects that was virtually taboo to speak about, which was fine with the rest of SG-1.  Every one of Daniel's teammates suffered more than a little guilt over those events.

"I kept thinking about what she said, that if I talked about Mom and Dad, it might help Danny.  So . . . I did."

Surprised, Sam stared at him.  "You talked about when your parents died?"

"Yeah.  It wasn't easy, and I ended up revealing something I shouldn't have."

Daniel told her about the session, what was said and what happened.  After he was done, Sam embraced him.  No wonder he and Danny were so subdued this evening.  It hadn't been an easy day for either of them.

After preparing for bed that night, Daniel and Sam crawled under the covers and went into each other's arms.  Daniel held her tightly, his cheek pressed against her hair.

"I love you," he whispered.

Sam raised her head and kissed him softly.  "And I love you."

They kissed again, then snuggled closer together, wanting nothing more from each other than to be held.  Within minutes, they were both asleep.


For the rest of that week, Meredith had therapy sessions with Danny.  Because of Daniel's work, it was necessary for most of the sessions to take place at the SGC.  The psychologist was very pleased with the progress Danny made.  She was also very pleased with the fact that the therapy Danny was receiving also seemed to be helping Daniel finally put to rest the lingering ghosts of his parents' death and his years in foster care.

But then, something happened that the psychologist hadn't prepared for.  It was on Friday, during the seventh session.  The conversation ended up touching on the subject of Daniel's many foster parents.  Danny knew only a little about the foster care system, but he did know that Daniel had lived in more than one household after his parents died.

"Were any of them mean to you?" he asked.

Meredith instantly saw the reaction in Daniel, though it was obvious that he tried to cover it up.

'Oh no,' was the thought that leapt into the woman's mind.  She knew about what sometimes happened to children in foster care, about the abuse, the molestations, and Daniel's body language was screaming to her that he had been a victim of at least one of those things.

Daniel didn't speak for quite some time.  "Um . . . there was one family that. . . .  The man drank a lot," he finally said, his voice tense.  He avoided eye contact.

Danny immediately became distressed.  He remembered seeing a man at one of the digs who'd gotten drunk.  The man had been mean and violent, hitting another man hard enough to knock him down.  It had terrified the boy.

"D-did he hit you?" he asked in a whisper.

"Danny, it's okay.  It was a very long time ago," Daniel replied, not really answering the question.

"He did, didn't he," Danny guessed anyway.

Daniel gave a soft sigh.  "Yes."

"A lot?"

"A . . . a few times.  It wasn't really bad, not bad enough to do any major damage, mostly just slaps on the face.  I was only with them for a couple of months before the social worker figured out what was happening and pulled me out of there."

"Was he arrested?" Meredith asked gently.

"Yes, although I don't know how long he was kept in jail.  Obviously, he and his wife were never allowed to foster any other kids."

Danny got out of his chair and flung himself at Daniel, throwing his arms about the man.  The archeologist returned the embrace.

"I hope he went to jail for a long, long time," Danny said, his voice muffled by his guardian's shirt.

Daniel closed his eyes and held the boy tighter.  This was something he hadn't wanted Danny to ever know, an ugly truth that no one else knew, including Daniel's teammates.  There had been other foster parents who were not especially kind to him, but only Mister Schubert had abused him.  The abuse had been a little worse than Daniel had made it out to be, but there was no way that he'd ever allow Danny to know that.  And Mister Schubert had never done anything worst than hit him.  Compared to the abuse and sexual molestation that some children suffered, Daniel had been lucky.  He had pushed it out of his mind a long time ago.

Seeing how upset Danny was, Meredith decided to put an end to the session.

"Daniel, could I talk to you outside?" she asked after putting her things in her briefcase.

They left the office and walked down the hall a few paces.

"I'm very sorry about that," Meredith apologized.

The archeologist shrugged.  "It wasn't your fault.  You couldn't have known about it unless you examined the files, and they probably don't even exist anymore."

"Even so, I'm sorry that you had to reveal that incident to Danny."  Meredith paused for a moment.  "Daniel, I don't want to pry. . . ."

"But you want to know how bad it really was.  He never put me in the hospital, though he did knock me unconscious once.  All he ever used was his hand, never a belt or some other object.  It could have been a lot worse."

"Yes, but that doesn't make it any less abhorrent.  I've had to treat more than one abused or molested child, and it always enrages me to see it.  Were you taken to a therapist afterwards?"

Daniel shook his head.  "I don't think they did that very much in the foster care system back then.  I was simply put with another family, one they knew was safe.  The people mostly left me alone, which is what I wanted."

Meredith felt deep sadness over what Daniel had suffered.  "How old were you?"

"Eleven."  The archeologist stared at her.  "Is this going to affect Danny's progress?  Every time I've been hurt or when Danny found out about something bad happening to me, it's affected him pretty badly."

"No, I think he'll be all right, but he may respond by hovering around you a bit more for a while.  He may also ask you other questions about it.  It would be okay be more truthful, but tread carefully so as not to frighten him.  Fortunately, he's past the age where he'll fear that the man who harmed you as a child will come back and hurt you again someday."

"Which is really good, considering."

Meredith's gaze sharpened.  "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, just that, if Danny ever found out about some of the stuff I've went through on missions at the hands of others, he'd be terrified of more than one person coming back to finish the job."

"Oh, boy.  That bad, huh?"

Daniel shrugged again, attempting to make light of it.  "It's a hazzard of the job.  I'm certainly not the only one.  When it happens, we just have to deal with it and get through it, keep on working."

"But, sometimes, that isn't enough, Daniel.  Sometimes, we need help from others to get us through it."

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