The Pentangular Gate

They aggravate her. For weeks - no, months - after that little incident with the Goa'uld and Cassie's mind-powers-gone-crazy, they're ridiculously protective of her and ridiculously eager to spend time with her, and it irritates her to no end. Cassie does enjoy playing chess with Sam once in a while, but Sam, along with her mother, who's naturally the worst of the bunch, doesn't seem to realize that she needs time on the weekends to spend doing her own things, hanging out with her friends and her boyfriend. Her boyfriend who is scared out of his wits because he thinks that if he ever screws up, he's going to have Cassie's angry 'uncles' (consisting of a highly trained Air Force Colonel, a six-five 'African warrior' with biceps the size of Colorado, and...well, Daniel could probably be threatening, somehow, if he wanted to) on his ass for the rest of his life. Cassie rolls her eyes at their attempts at being menacing, and figures it's good insurance for if he ever does screw up, but for now...it gets irritating. No, Jack, she isn't five, she doesn't want to go to the zoo on Saturday, even if they have a new giraffe. No, she does not want to go fishing - where the hell is he going to fish in February, anyway? No, Teal'c, she's already seen 'Star Wars' eight times. Yes, she's seen 'The Empire Strikes Back' too. Yes, she's seen 'Return of the Jedi'. No, Daniel, she doesn't need any more help with her Spanish homework. Yes, she will call if she does. No, Sam, she does not want to have a girls' night, and, by the way, she outgrew that Disney Princess sleeping bag a loooong time ago.

God. She knows they mean well, but sometimes she wishes they would all leave her alone. They're just her surrogate family, but they couldn't be worse if they were actually related to her.

4. five years.

They worry her. Though she'd been happily oblivious when she was younger, over the years, she's come to realize exactly how dangerous the job they do is. Her mother never tells her if any of them are injured or sick unless it lingers for a long time, long enough that Cassie would notice their absence, or it's life-threatening, which happens far too often for their liking. A few times, she had driven to the base in the middle of the night, still bleary-eyed and bundled up in her bedtime sweats, because her mother had called her to tell her that nobody knew if one or another of them was going to make it through the night. Too often - too often - she sits keeping vigil with a cup of cocoa that she doesn't drink, just watching and hoping and praying to whatever gods may or may not exist, and once in a while her mother comes in to check on them and rubs Cassie's shoulders comfortingly when she's done. They don't talk. And in the morning, or the next day, or the day after, everything is okay again, and life goes on as usual. Except for once.

She hadn't been allowed to see Daniel, because his condition had deteriorated so fast and he had been in so much pain. When she'd heard what had happened to him, and how he was just gone, Cassie hadn't spoken to her mother for a week. She's come to terms with it, now, and though she knows Daniel is okay and out there floating around somewhere, she still worries for him - or, maybe, worries for herself, for how she'll feel if he never comes back. And she worries for SG-1 because, despite the faces they show to the world, she knows them better than they think she does, and she isn't sure they'll ever be okay.