Cookies
Cookies
by Panther
TITLE: Cookies
AUTHOR: Panther
EMAIL: hockyfan_99@yahoo.com
CATEGORY: hurt/comfort, Daniel/Other
SPOILERS: Forever In A Day
SEASON / SEQUEL: Season 4
RATING: G
CONTENT WARNINGS: Minor tissue warning
SUMMARY: The history behind chocolate walnut cookies.
STATUS: Complete
ARCHIVE: Heliopolis
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. We have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the authors. Not to be archived without permission of the authors.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Just a little possible history of Daniel. Comments are welcome!
The little boy sat on the padded bench of the bay window in the living room, huddled into the corner, his knees pulled up to his chest as he stared out through the glass at the street. It was fall and the leaves were littering the ground in greater numbers every day, obscuring the view of the generous expanse of green grass in the front yard. 2 other boys were outside playing in the leaves, bundled up in jackets and mittens against the cold, while a little girl sat under the large oak tree with her doll, brushing it's long, stringy, blonde hair as she cooed lovingly to it. He could feel the cold air permeating the glass and hugged himself tighter with a shiver. There were warmer places to be. That was true, but he liked this one. He could nestle in among the comfort of the pillows and if he was still enough no one would notice him tucked away in the corner. His only other option for privacy was the closet, but he didn't really like it in there. He was afraid of the dark and sometimes, well in the other place anyway, the other boys didn't always let him out. This corner was just fine, a little more out in the open, but then he didn't really care whether anyone knew he was there or not. Except that they always wanted him to talk, growing impatient when he refused to answer. He wasn't being stubborn like they'd accused, he just had nothing to say, half the time not even hearing their questions in the first place. Very little mattered to him now, the world around him nothing more than a mild annoyance that was easily ignored.
Marilee Finch stood at the far side of the living room, arms folded across her chest as she leaned against the entry wall, watching the latest addition to their home. The eight year old, a little small for his age, had arrived 2 days ago wide eyed and clinging to the hand of the social worker as she'd led him inside. Nothing unusual there. They all seemed to arrive that way, except for the ones that had been playing the foster care game long enough not to be phased by a simple change of address. As long as they had food and a warm bed they didn't much care where they were, one home was as good as the next. She, like everyone else, had heard the horror stories of children abused and neglected by people only in the program for the money, but the truth was those were few and far between. Reporters slanting the stories to make it appear that it was a wide spread problem. In the case of this little one, Daniel...Danny, theirs was only his second placement. According to the social worker he'd been in the last home for nearly 3 months, sent there after the tragic death of his parents in an accident. She didn't have any details, but then they weren't important. Death of parents was traumatic no matter how it happened. Apparently he did have one living relative...a grandfather, but for some reason the man had not been able to take him, leaving the State to make other arrangements. The last home had informed the social worker that Danny was not only stubborn, but mentally retarded as well, not having spoken a single word the entire time he'd been there. Marilee, however, wasn't so sure she agreed with that diagnosis. True, he didn't speak, not even to the other children, but there was far too much intelligence in his eyes to make her think he was lacking in mental capacity. Mute, maybe, but retarded, she doubted it. She'd seen children like him before, not often, but enough. So full of pain and fear that it kept them almost completely preoccupied. They said little or nothing and spent as much time as was allowed completely alone. Even when they were in a group they were still withdrawn, refusing to participate in an existence that seemed far less important than what was going on inside their own heads. Being an only child who had just lost his parents, his home, whatever friends he might have had...his life, seemed reason enough not to be particularly interested in the details of what had to be, for him, a never ending nightmare. Striding silently across the carpet, she pulled a blanket from one of the recliners and approached the window where he sat.
"Here you go, Danny." She said, smiling as she crouched down to his level and tucked the blanket around him. "It's starting to get cold outside, huh?"
He looked at her, his blue eyes studying her carefully and a small frown creasing his young face.
"Can I get you anything?" she offered. "Some hot chocolate, maybe? With marshmallows?"
He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, suddenly more interested in it than her as he concluded his inspection of her face.
"Well you let me know if you need anything, alright?" she said, gently stroking his blonde hair before getting up and leaving him alone with his thoughts.
She could understand how they might think there was something wrong with him, she mused as she made her way to the kitchen. Not only did he not speak, but he barely communicated at all, no response meaning "no" in his language. His eyes, however, said plenty. She just hadn't learned how to read them yet. There seemed to be a statement hidden in the way he'd looked at her, but she couldn't quite translate it. He'd arrived on Thursday morning after the other kids had gone off to school and they'd given him Friday to get settled in, but she couldn't help but wonder how well he would fair in class on Monday. She worried about him, though as far as school went she probably didn't really need to. He'd been in that class with the same teacher since he was placed in foster care 3 months ago. The State tried very hard not to bounce the kids from one school to another nearly as often as they bounced them from one home to another. Sometimes, however, there just weren't homes available for them in the same school district, but the effort counted for something. There'd been no mention by his social worker of problems in class so apparently he came out of his shell long enough to do his school work, probably crawling right back in for recess. Danny just seemed so...fragile. Sighing quietly and tying on an apron, she pushed the thoughts aside for the time being and set to work making lunch for the kids.
The Finches had a nearly full house at the moment, 3 boys and 2 girls all under the age of 10. It made for a mad house at meals, after school and, of course, bedtime. They were registered for a maximum of 6 children and were usually housing exactly that many, but for some reason the State was taking its time filling the last spot. Not that she minded. Having foster children wasn't like having a house full of your own kids. Every single one of them had emotional problems to one extent or another and when one acted out it tended to set off several others. At times it required more than the patience of a saint, but at other times it was the most rewarding experience you could ever have. Especially when you saw one of them that had been labeled hopeless, starting to come around.
Putting a large pot on the stove, she opened 2 cans of chicken noodle soup and poured them in, turning up the heat. Then laying 10 pieces of bread out on the counter, she set to work building peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Lucky for her the kids loved peanut butter. Otherwise feeding that many mouths could get very expensive. Bread was no problem. She baked that herself every other day. She'd learned quite a lot about keeping house since they'd become foster parents. In the beginning she hadn't been able to do much beyond cooking the basics like macaroni and cheese and doing laundry. Over time, however, she'd learned how to sew, at least well enough to patch holes in knees and tears in shirts, bake bread, cookies and the occasional birthday cake and clean the house in half the time without having it look like it. Turning down the heat on the well warmed soup, she put the sandwiches together, cut them into triangles and then went to solicit a little help.
"Danny?" she said, ducking her head back into the living room.
He didn't move, staring out the window as he had been when she'd left him earlier. Moving closer, she called him again.
"Danny?"
He turned slowly toward her without a word, still huddled in the blanket.
"Will you come and help me set the table, please?" she asked.
Making not a sound and giving no indication that he'd understood her, other than to move, he crawled out of the blanket and padded across the living room toward the kitchen, receiving a gentle caress on the head as he passed her.
"Thank you." She added, following him out of the room.
Pulling a stack of plastic plates and cups out of the cupboard and a handful of spoons from the drawer, she left them piled on the edge of the table for him to distribute. Wandering around the table he did so, carefully setting one place after the other until the job was done. Marilee watched him set the first few before leaving to begin rounding up the other children. By the time she returned, having ushered them all into the bathroom to wash their hands, the job was finished and Danny had once again disappeared. A steady stream of children appeared in the kitchen soon after, talking, laughing and giggling. For the moment the group seemed to be in a good mood. Gathering around the table, each of them slid into a chair as she was finishing filling bowls with soup. Setting the mostly empty pot down on the counter, she left the group and went to, once again, retrieve Danny. At least she always knew where to find him. "What's the matter, Danny?" she asked, crouching beside his perch near the window. "Aren't you hungry?"
He continued staring outside, ignoring her hand on his shoulder. "At least come and sit at the table." She coaxed, hoping that he would start to come out of his shell once he got to know the other kids.
He turned and looked at her, that same frown on his face.
"Come on." She urged, curling an arm around his shoulders and gently pulling him away from the window.
He allowed himself to be moved, but would obviously rather have stayed where he was. She was also hoping that having a sandwich right in front of him would inspire an appetite. It hadn't escaped her attention that he wasn't eating much more than he was talking. Resting a hand on his back, she herded him into the kitchen where the other kids were already sitting down, though not exactly resembling a peaceful Norman Rockwell moment.
"Jared, stop poking Misty." She instructed as they approached the table.
Danny found an empty chair in the corner and slid into it, his hands in his lap, casting wide eyed glances at the other kids. Marilee hushed them long enough to say grace before they all dug in, conversation flowing into the sound of spoons scraping on plastic bowls and the slurping of soup. Danny picked up one of the sandwich triangles in front of him and took a tentative bite out of one corner before replacing it on the plate, his hands dropping back to his lap as he chewed.
"Mrs. Finch, can we play with the basketball?" Nick asked, his mouth half full of sandwich.
"I don't see why not." She answered. "And please don't talk with your mouth full."
"We can play one on one!" Jared said excitedly.
"What about Danny?" Marilee suggested. "Don't you think maybe he wants to play too?"
"Probably doesn't know how." Jared shrugged, taking another bite of sandwich.
"Yeah, probably can't even dribbled, cause he's a baby." Nick sneered.
"That's enough, Nick." She warned.
"But he doesn't even know how to talk." He argued.
"I'm sure he knows how to talk." She countered. "We just haven't heard him say anything yet."
"Why don't you talk, Danny?" Nick demanded, giving the boy a shove. "You chicken?"
"Nick, that's enough." She stated. "If I have to tell you again you'll spend the afternoon in your room."
"He can play with us." Bethanne offered. "We're going to play with Barbies. He can be Ken."
"That's very sweet, Bethanne, thank you."
"Yeah, he can be Ken." Nick mimicked, laughing. "He'd probably like playing with dolls."
"Nick, you're excused." Marilee stated, pointing toward the hall.
"What?"
"You know very well, 'what'. Go up to your room. You can come back down and finish your lunch when everyone else is through."
"Come on." He whined.
"Right now, young man."
Roughly pushing his chair away from the table, he flopped out of it and stormed out of the kitchen, sulking. Danny kept his head ducked during the entire exchange wondering why Mrs. Finch had bothered to bring him in there in the first place. It always ended up the same, even in the other home. One of the boys teased him, sometimes the others joining in. The girls offered to rescue him, usually only making the scene worse and eventually someone ended up being sent to their room to end the argument. Sometimes it was someone who deserved it, sometimes it was him, but most of the time it didn't really end anything. It only postponed it until the adults were out of earshot. In the other place they used to lock him in the closet or stuff him in the laundry hamper or under the bed, pinch him, punch him, shove him around, whatever sort of entertainment they were in the mood for. He had no idea what it would be like there, but couldn't imagine it would be much different. Sighing quietly, he took another small bite of sandwich before deciding that he was full and sat in silence while he waited for everyone else to finish and be excused.
"Can I still play with the ball?" Jared asked, cautiously.
"Sure, but do you really want to play by yourself?"
He shrugged.
"Why don't you ask Danny?"
"You wanna play basketball?" he asked the boy across the table with a sigh.
Danny sat staring down at his lap, lazily swinging his legs back and forth as they dangled from the chair.
"Danny?" Marilee questioned. "Jared asked you a question."
Reluctantly he looked up. He didn't want to play. He didn't want to talk. He just wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately, Mrs. Finch didn't seem to understand that. Mrs. Maple in his other home had figured that out by the beginning of the second day. Sure, she'd tried to get a reaction out of him in the beginning, thinking he was just shy or something, but after a full 24 hours of no response to anything she offered, she'd let him be having grown frustrated with the game. He'd hoped that Mrs. Finch would catch on as quickly, but she seemed to be more determined.
"Do you want to play basketball with Jared?" she asked, meeting his steady gaze and trying to understand the only form of communication he used.
Danny looked from her to Jared and back again before turning in his chair until he couldn't see either of them, griping the bars on the back of it with one hand.
"I guess not." Jared huffed.
"Don't take it personally, Jared." She soothed, smoothing his hair. "He's just not used to us yet. New foster homes can be scary sometimes."
"I guess." He shrugged before getting up from the table and leaving the room, the girls disappearing a moment later.
Marilee got up with a sigh and began gathering dishes.
"I know it's hard without your parents, Danny." She offered the young boy still sitting at the table. "But it'd be better if you could make some friends. These guys are going to start to think you don't like them."
He didn't reply, but she knew he could hear her.
"I'm sure you know how bad it feels when someone acts like they don't like you. Don't you, Danny?"
He paused in his leg swinging for a moment to consider the question.
"If you're through with lunch, why don't you put on your coat and go outside and play for a while?"
She wasn't about to suggest that he play dolls with the girls, knowing how badly 8 year old boys usually reacted to such an idea, but she was hoping that maybe he'd decide he could at least sit with them while they played. Danny hopped down from his chair and wandered out of the room. Outside was good. There were plenty of places to be alone outside and maybe he could even find something fun to do. Pulling his coat off the peg by the door he stuffed his arms into it, zipped it up and pulled open the front door.
Marilee watched him wander off and sighed again. What was it going to take to get through to him? She knew he wasn't really trying to be difficult he just seemed to have little or no use for people at the moment. Unfortunately the silent treatment tended to be aggravating after a while and also hurt the other children's feelings. Clearing off the table until only Nick's lunch was left, she called him downstairs and let him finish eating.
"You know, that wasn't very nice, teasing Danny that way." She lectured while he ate. "Do you remember how hard it was the first time you were put into a new home?"
He shrugged in response.
"I want you to be nice to him, Nick. He's still sad about his parents and it's just going to take a little while for him to get over it." She instructed. "In the meantime, your teasing is not helping at all."
"But why doesn't he say anything? He just sits there and stares at nothing. He's weird." Nick argued.
"He's not weird, Nick. He's just different. Maybe if you got to know him you'd find you like him."
"I tried, but he won't talk to me. It's like he's stuck up or something."
"I know. Just give it some time." She urged, patting his shoulder. "Until then, I don't want to hear you teasing him any more or you're going to be spending a lot more time in your room, young man."
"OK." He groused, finishing off the last of his sandwich. "Can I still go out and play with Jared?"
She looked at him for a moment, considering the request.
"Alright. I'll give you another chance, but if I hear or see you doing anything to Danny it's back up to your room until dinner."
"OK." He agreed eagerly and slurped down the rest of his soup before making a mad dash from the table.
Marilee finished cleaning up the kitchen and grabbed a book from the bookshelf before heading out to the front porch. It was cool, but not yet too cold to be able to enjoy some time on the padded porch swing. Still warm enough outside to be able to send the kids out to play on the weekends, but she knew it wouldn't last for long. Pretty soon they'd all be cooped up in the house together, hiding out from the rain and, eventually, snow. It wasn't a thought that brought her any comfort. Cabin fever would set in, the kids would get rowdy and there would be more arguments and fewer peaceful moments like this one. Better enjoy it while she could. Huddling down into her coat, she sat on the swing to take a quick headcount before starting her book. Jared and Nick were in the back, playing basketball, their voices punctuated by the occasional slap of the ball hitting the backboard floating around from the side of the house. Bethanne and Misty were huddled near the flowerbed, dolls and doll clothes scattered around them as they prepared for what was obviously a big event. Then there was Danny. She could see him huddled at the base of the tree, digging in the dirt. She watched as he carefully swept away layers of dirt, completely uncovering a pebble rather than digging it out, before picking it up and inspecting it carefully. Then putting it down in the grass, he started all over again with another pebble or stick. She was fascinated by how careful he was, treating each rock like a priceless treasure.
Danny crouched near the tree, having found a place in the yard to dig that wasn't covered by grass. He'd considered the flowerbed, but could still remember what had happened when his mother had caught him doing the same thing to hers one summer afternoon. It hadn't been too long ago. Just after school had gotten out last year. Why did it feel like forever? He could still remember her face, hear her voice, even smell her sometimes and ached to know when they were coming back for him. They'd been gone so long. Patricia, the nice lady from the museum, had told him they'd died. He'd been there. He'd watched as the coverstone and pillars had toppled down on them like the toy blocks he used to play with when he was little, seen the people frantically digging through the artifacts for them in a clumsy, reckless way that would have made his father mad. "You'll damage the artifacts, Danny." He used to say. "Carefully, you have to brush them carefully."
He knew how to do it the right way, but sometimes he would act clumsy so his father would have to help him, enveloping his little hand in his much bigger one and show him again how to gently brush away the dirt, his other hand rested on his shoulder. A few demonstrative strokes before gently ruffling his hair and leaving him to try it again on his own. Dead. That meant they weren't coming back this time, but they'd left him before, not often, but a few times and they'd always come back. Maybe she'd been wrong. He'd spent weeks trying to understand why they'd left him alone, but could never come up with a reason. All he knew was that it must have been something he'd done. Somehow it was his fault, he just couldn't think of what it was that would have made them so angry. Angry enough to make them leave him alone. The social worker had picked him up from the Maple's house the other day and he'd been so sure they were finally going to take him home. Instead they'd brought him here, to another stranger's house. He'd wanted to run away, but didn't know where to go and what if his parents came looking for him? If he left they wouldn't know where to find him. He'd also wanted to cry, but he'd been too scared for tears and then he'd been to busy trying to figure out why they'd moved him from the Maple's house to the Finches to bother with tears. Had he done something wrong again? Maybe they were angry because he wouldn't speak. Too many questions, not enough answers and nothing familiar to comfort himself with. At home he could just go to his room and play with his toy statues of Anubis and the Sphynx or stare at the picture of he and his parents in Giza, remembering the camel rides. He loved camel rides. Or play with his hot wheels (presents his mother had given him at Christmas saying something about not wanting him to grow up thinking he was a modern day Pharoah.) until someone came looking for him. Here he still had a bed, a bunk bed anyway, but his toys, his room, everything familiar, had been taken away. Grandpa Nick...he wasn't supposed to call him Grandpa...had told him that it was all in boxes somewhere and he'd get them back when he was older. It sounded a lot like when he'd been bad and had something taken away, his mother telling him he'd get it back when he learned how to behave. Maybe he'd ask Mrs. Finch if she knew what he'd done wrong. She seemed like a nice lady. Maybe she could tell him how to let them know he was sorry and would never do it again. For the moment, however, he was busy unearthing artifacts, the way his father had taught him, lost in a flow of memories. He didn't hear Mrs. Finch moving across the lawn toward him, didn't hear the friendly comments she made to the girls as she'd approached, didn't even hear her call his name so the sudden hand on his back startled him.
"It's alright, Danny." She soothed when she saw him jump. "I didn't mean to scare you." He looked at her, the flash of fear being replaced by the familiar frown.
"What are you doing?" she asked, with a curious smile. "Can I help?"
Danny continued to watch her without a word, but she noticed the frown lighten a little and thought she saw a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth. Carefully, he reached out his mitten covered hand and brushed it lightly back and forth across the dirt, no longer looking at her, but also not blocking her view of what he was doing. A small rock was peaking out of the ground and she watched him gently sweep the dirt away from it, occasionally bending down to blow some of it away. She had no idea what he was doing other than meticulously digging a hole using a process that would take weeks rather than minutes, but his careful movements and patient method fascinated her. Marilee watched for a few more minutes before retreating once again to the porch swing, making a mental note to mention it to her husband, Mark, when he got home. Maybe he could make some sense of it. Swinging lazily on the porch, she sat long enough to read a few pages of a book she'd been trying to get through for months, before deciding that with the kids outside it was a perfect time to do some cleaning up and disappearing back into the house.
Marilee had been able to clean the bathrooms and was just finishing up loading the dishwasher in the kitchen when she heard the front door open and close. Putting in one last plate before closing the machine, she wandered out into the hall to see who had come in, but found the entry way empty. Danny's coat, however, had been replaced on its peg by the door. He'd grown tired of brushing at the dirt with his mittens. He needed real brushes to do the job right and it was different from clearing away sand, the dirt around the tree being much more solidly packed. She found him perched again on the bench, staring at the wall rather than out the window.
"Had enough digging?" Marilee asked, sitting down on the other end of the bench.
He glanced up at her briefly, but it was long enough for her to see a sadness in his eyes.
"Let's take these off before you get dirt on the pillows." She suggested, reaching out for his still shoe covered feet.
Danny looked at her with an expression of remorse, his shoulders sagging.
"It's OK." She offered, patting his leg. "No harm done."
One at a time she pulled the shoes off his feet and set them on the floor. Danny could remember his mom telling him over and over not to sit on his bed with his shoes on. For some reason he never remembered. Suddenly, the tears he'd been too preoccupied to cry came rising to the surface in a wave. Marilee watched as his face screwed up in an expression of pain before relaxing into the familiar frown, tears filling his blue eyes.
"What's the matter?" she asked, resting a hand on one of his sock covered feet.
As usual, he didn't answer, the first of many tears spilling down his face.
"Come here." She coaxed, holding out her arms to him, but he didn't move. "It's OK, Danny." She said, gently pulling him toward her and situating him on her lap, her arms wrapped around him. Sobs full of heartache she guessed he'd probably been holding in too long, shook his young body as she slowly rocked him from side to side. Marilee sat holding him long after his cries had turned to occasional stuttered breaths, knowing that it was probably the first real physical contact he'd allowed since his parents had died. One thing she knew for sure, kids needed hugs and she intended to make up for what he'd been missing for as long as she would let him. Brushing his almost too long hair back from his forehead, she looked down at him to find him staring across the room, his face still wet. She picked him up and carried him across the living room and into the kitchen setting him gently on the counter and retrieving a kleenex. Wiping the tears from his cheeks and eyes, she handed it to him and let him blow his nose.
"I was thinking of baking some cookies this afternoon." She confided, quietly. "Would you like to help?"
He looked at her, without the frown this time, but still didn't answer.
"I bet you'd make a couple of new friends really quickly if I let you carry them outside to the other kids." She smiled.
He blinked at her, a ghost of a smile flashing across his face.
"Why don't you go wash your hands and we'll get started." She suggested, lifting him off the counter and setting him on the floor.
Without a word he disappeared from the room, heading in the direction of the bathroom. Marilee smiled to herself as she pulled her favorite cookbook from one of the small shelves in the kitchen. She'd been meaning to try the new recipe for weeks, but could never seem to find the time or the motivation. Now it appeared she had both. Scanning the marked page, she frowned to herself. Chocolate walnut cookies. They sounded good. The hoped they turned out that way. She was nearly finished gathering ingredients when Danny reappeared in the room. Wrapping the strings around him several times, she tied an apron on him and pulled a chair up to the counter for him to stand on. Side by side they combined ingredients, mixing them together until they had a bowl full of what looked very much like dark mud. It smelled much better, however. Dropping a few spoonfuls on a cookie sheet, she slid them into the oven and set the kitchen timer.
"We're going to have to come up with a good excuse for why the kitchen smells like chocolate if these don't come out." She reasoned.
Danny turned around, perching on the edge of the counter and folded his arms across his chest. It was a very grown up stance Marilee imagined he must have picked up from one of his parents. A few minutes later, the timer went off and she opened the oven, retrieving the cookies. They were a deep brown with bits of walnut peaking out here and there. They looked good and smelled even better, but the real test was yet to be done. Removing them with a spatula and placing them on the counter to cool, she added more globs of dough to the cookie sheet before replacing it in the oven and setting the timer again.
"What do you think?" she asked, looking from Danny to the cooling cookies and back again.
Reaching out, she picked one up, breaking it in two and passing him half. He took a bite and chewed and she smiled as he closed eyes before swallowing it. He was right, they were good. Several batches later, the bowl of dough had been transformed into 3 dozen cookies. Marilee stacked a few of them on a plate before untying the apron from Danny's waist.
"Why don't you get your coat and we'll take these outside." She suggested.
He climbed down off the chair and pushed it back to the table before going out into the hall and pulling on his jacket again. Marilee followed him, shrugging into her own before they headed out to the front yard. She led Danny around to the side of the house before interrupting the basketball game and handing him the plate.
"Hey guys," she called. "Danny has something for you."
Looking at each other, the boys approached cautiously until they saw the cookies he was holding.
"Oh, man, cookies!" Jared exclaimed, closing the distance and grabbing one from the plate. Nick was right beside him.
"These are good." He mumbled around a mouthful, before catching Marilee's expression. "Sorry." He muttered, remembering he wasn't supposed to talk with his mouth full.
"Can we have another one?" Jared asked, eyeing the still full plate.
"One more." She agreed, to which they instantly responded. "What do you say?" she coaxed, glancing down toward Danny and back at them.
"Thanks, Danny." Jared offered.
"Um, yeah, thanks." Nick added.
She wished he would nod or smile or something, but instead he just looked back at them, causing her to sigh quietly.
"Come on," she urged. "Let's go give some to the girls."
He followed her across the lawn, repeating the process with Bethanne and Misty, who, once again invited him to play with them. To Marilee's surprise, he sat down beside them. He didn't pick up any of the dolls, but it was a start. Relieving him of the plate and stroking his hair, she left him to play and retreated back into the house.
Mark Finch walked through the front door at a little after 5:30. The children were all inside by then and scattered upstairs when he arrived. Marilee noticed how they always seemed to give him a wide berth when he first came home, not that he'd ever given them a reason to, but he was a male, which some of them were wary of from past experience. That and they didn't know him as well as they knew her, not having spent as much time with him. For the first little while they'd stay out of sight and gradually reappear to test the waters and warm up to him again. On the upside, it did give them a few minutes alone to talk, which that afternoon she took full advantage of.
"I saw Danny doing the oddest thing today." She stated, after he'd had a moment to settle. "He was out by the tree brushing at the dirt with his gloves uncovering rocks and sticks like he was afraid they'd break."
"Probably stuff he picked up from watching his parents." He shrugged, stuffing a cookie into his mouth.
She gave him a look showing clearly that she didn't understand.
"His parents were archeologists." He explained, swallowing. "I'm sure he'd seen them digging up artifacts plenty of times."
"Is that how they died? Digging around a tomb or something?"
"No," he frowned. "actually they were crushed in an accident at some museum. A big artifact they were setting up for a display fell on them."
"That's horrible." She said, pausing in her preparation of dinner.
"What's even worse is that Danny was there when it happened."
"Oh, the poor kid. It's no wonder he's so upset. Did he see it happen?"
"I don't know." He shrugged. "He could have."
She stood for a moment, absorbing the new information.
"These are good, Hon." He said, interrupting her thoughts and biting into another cookie.
"Oh, Danny and I made them." She answered, pulling herself back into the conversation.
"Has he said anything yet?" he asked, concern showing on his face.
"No, but he did finally break down and have a good cry."
"That's good, I guess."
"I just hope he starts eating. He hardly touched his lunch today."
"Maybe we should call the social worker and make another appointment for him to see that counselor he was going to."
"If he's not eating by tomorrow I think it'd be a good idea. Poor little guy's going to waste away to nothing." She sighed.
"Maybe he's just a picky eater?"
"Hard to tell since he won't say anything."
Mark agreed with a nod. Misty appeared in the kitchen just then, interrupting the conversation. She hung back, just barely in the room, gripping a doll tightly with both hands.
"Well, hi, Misty." Mark greeted enthusiastically. "Who've you got with you?"
"Skipper." She replied quietly.
"That's a beautiful gown she's wearing." He commented, slowly drawing her into a conversation.
One by one the children reappeared, all except for Daniel. Mark found him sitting on the bench in the living room, pouring over a National Geographic book from one of the shelves.
"Hi Danny." He greeted, surrounded by kids.
Danny looked up at him in acknowledgement before returning his attention to his book. A few minutes later he watched the boy close the book, push himself off the bench and disappear from the room. Even if he wasn't speaking yet, at least he seemed more aware of what was going on around him than he had been. Perhaps baking cookies was some kind of miracle cure after all.
Marilee was finishing her preparations for dinner when she turned and saw Danny standing in the door of the kitchen.
"Everything OK?" she asked.
His face twitched into the familiar frown as he looked from her to the table and back again. She could tell he was trying to communicate something, but wasn't quite able to bring himself to speak it yet.
"You hungry?" she guessed. "Dinner should be ready in just another few minutes."
Actually, he was, but that wasn't what he'd wanted. Ending the guessing game, he went to one of the drawers and opened it, grabbing a handful of silverware. Catching on, Marilee pulled a stack of plates down from the cupboard and laid them on the table.
"We're using the real ones for dinner, so be careful." She warned, resting a hand gently on his head before going back to work on dinner.
As with everything else, he set the table without a word, but she sensed that in his own way he was trying to communicate with her. It was only a matter of time before his frustration with not being understood would finally break through his silence, since it appeared he now had something to say. The table set and dinner ready, she called the group in to eat, everyone finding a place at the table, Danny still preferring a seat at the farthest corner.
Marilee filled the dishwasher and turned it on after everyone had left the table. Smiling to herself, she put away the leftover food, pleased that Danny had finally taken an interest in food, having finished most of his second helping before deciding he was full. The rest of the evening was spent watching television in the family room, Danny hanging back by himself in a corner watching the screen intently. Knowing it would take several hours to bathe all of the kids every night, they had set up a schedule where half of the kids took baths every other night. That particular night it was the girls' turn. Marilee ushered them upstairs and when they were finished, she walked Danny up to take his turn. Showing him where to find the towels and pointing out the shampoo, she helped him fill the tub and then turned to leave.
"Are you alright to do this by yourself?" she asked, pausing in the doorway. He looked at her for a moment and then pulled his shirt off over his head. She took that as a "yes" and closed the bathroom door behind her. Mark went up to check on him a little while later and found him already in his pajamas, his hair still damp.
"You're an old pro at this, huh kiddo?" He said, helping to tuck him in bad as the rest of the kids made their way upstairs.
Danny rested his arms on top of the blanket and stared back at him.
"Good night, Danny." He offered, squeezing his arm gently before helping to nestle the other two boys in bed as well.
Marilee came in a few minutes later and kissed them all goodnight before turning off the lights, a dim light from the nightlight pushing away a measure of the darkness.
The sound of someone crying drew Marilee from sleep hours later. Not an unfamiliar occurrence. Foster children tended to carry more ghosts than most adults so nightmares were a common event. Checking the clock, she pulled on her robe and stumbled out of her room toward the sound. 3:00, still plenty of time to get whoever it was back to sleep before the others woke at around 6:00. Never mind that it was Sunday and everyone got to sleep in, the kids were always up plenty early. The crying led her to the boys' room at the end of the hall. Pushing open the door, she found the sound coming from Jared's bed. He was still asleep, but crying nonetheless. Caressing his face, she whispered softly to him, soothing him even in his dream until finally he was quiet. She stood by his bed for a few moments, waiting to see if he would wake up or maybe start crying again, but he remained quiet. Pulling the covers up around him, she turned to check on Nick who was dreaming peacefully and then Danny. However, instead of a still little body under the covers, she found him curled up in a corner on the lower bunk, staring out into the darkness, the light from the nightlight reflected in his eyes. To be honest, she wasn't surprised to find him awake, having thought that it was he who was crying in the first place. The newest ones usually had the hardest time at night.
Danny had been awake long before Jared had started to cry. He lay there in the darkness, shivering from the cold, but too scared to move to pull the blankets up. Bad dreams were nothing new. He'd been having them ever since his parents went away. Nearly every night at the Maple's house he'd lain awake for hours in the dark. Sometimes Mrs. Maple would come in to quiet one of the other boys, but never once had she noticed him lying there watching her. She'd never thought to check on him. That night he watched as Mrs. Finch entered the room, heard her whispering quietly to Jared. Too quietly for him to tell what she was saying. Then noticed her move toward Nick's bed as well. He'd expected to see her turn and disappear back down the hall, but was taken by surprise when she ducked down and he was suddenly looking into her face.
"You OK, Danny?" she asked, kneeling down beside his bed.
Marilee could see him lying on his side, staring back at her, the blankets pushed down toward the end of the bed. Whether he was curled up because he was cold or scared she wasn't sure, but assumed that the bed sheets were in disarray because of a dream. Reaching out, she rested a hand on one of his that was lying on the mattress and felt him grip it, wrapping his fingers around her palm. With her free hand, she stroked his hair and watched as several minutes later, his eyelids began to droop. Pausing for a moment, she covered him again with the blankets before returning to stroking his hair until finally he was asleep again. Pushing herself back up off the floor, she padded back to the bedroom and climbed into her own bed, snuggling up against Mark before going back to sleep herself.
As usual, the kids were up almost with the sun, though they tried to be quiet, thumping down the stairs to watch TV until Marilee or Mark showed up announcing the official start to the day. They ate breakfast and got dressed before being ushered outside to play, Jared and Nick helping Mark wash the car in the driveway. Marilee finished cleaning up the kitchen and came outside as well, to see how the car wash was coming. She found the 3 men each working on a different part of the car, soap covered sponges in hand and smiled. The girls were huddled near the flower garden again, dolls scattered around them and Danny was back at the base of the tree. Remembering her conversation with Mark the night before, she ducked back into the house, headed for the garage. Pawing through a couple of drawers in the workbench, she finally stumbled onto what she'd been looking for and gripping it firmly in one hand, returned to the yard.
"Doing some more excavating?" she asked, crouching down beside the young boy.
He looked over at her, squinting in the morning sun.
"I thought this might work a little better than your mittens." She said, holding out a small paintbrush.
Wide eyed, he looked from her to the brush and back again.
"You can use it as long as you'd like." She offered, smiling at the look on his face.
Not a frown this time, but an expression of wonder. Slowly he reached out and took it from her as if it were a prized possession.
"Thank you." He said, quietly, startling her when the most she'd been hoping for was a smile.
"You're welcome." She answered, stroking his hair, blonde reflecting the sunlight.
"My daddy gave me one once, but..." he shrugged sadly, his shoulders drooping.
Like everything else, it was gone.
"Then why don't you keep this one...at least until you can get the other one back." She offered.
This time he did smile.
It was several days later when she found him standing in the doorway of the kitchen, watching her without a word, like he'd done so many times before...before she'd discovered that he really could speak.
"Hi, Danny." She greeted cheerfully. "Get tired of playing basketball?"
He nodded.
"Where are Jared and Nick?"
"Still outside." He replied.
He hadn't become a walking chatterbox, but normally he had more to say than that. Pausing in what she was doing, she looked over at him, really seeing him for the first time. "What's the matter?"
"Can I...can I ask you something?" he questioned, blue eyes lowered toward the floor and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.
Briefly he glanced up at her before looking back toward the floor, waiting for her answer.
"Sure. Have a seat." She said, motioning toward the table.
He crossed the room and pulled out a chair at the corner before sitting down, his legs dangling just above the floor. Marilee took a seat across the corner from him, noting the intensity of his expression.
"Are my mom and dad...mad at me?" he muttered, not able to look at her.
"Mad at you? Heavens no." she stated. "What would make you think that?"
He shrugged, pausing a moment before he answered.
"They left me." He finally said, a tear falling on his pant leg.
"Come here." She said, taking his arm and gently pulling him out of the chair before hoisting him onto her lap. "Your parents didn't leave you because they wanted to, Danny. They died. It wasn't their choice." She explained. "I'm sure they loved you very much and if they could they'd be here with you right now."
He sniffled.
"Patricia said they're dead, too." He admitted. "That means they won't come back."
"That's right." She agreed, gently.
He was silent for a long moment, sifting together the information. They really were dead. They weren't going to be coming back for him. Patricia had said that they went with Anubis. He'd assumed that it meant they'd wanted to go, but Mrs. Finch said they had to. Maybe they hadn't decided that they liked Anubis better than him after all.
"Jared said Misty's getting new parents." He stated finally.
"That's right." She agreed.
Misty was being adopted by a nice couple who already had 3 other children. She was supposed to leave in 2 days, an event the little girl both welcomed and feared. It was also causing no small amount of turmoil in the roommate she was leaving behind, numerous fights having broken out between the two girls already.
"I don't want new parents." He decided with a nod. "What if they go away too?"
"Maybe they won't." She replied. "Maybe you'll get to live with them for a long, long time until you're grown up."
"Maybe." He shrugged.
Marilee let go of him and placed a hand on either side of his face, looking into his tear filled blue eyes.
"Listen to me." She said, getting his attention. "I'm going to tell you something, Danny Jackson and I want you to remember it always."
He swallowed, the frown returning to his face.
"It's never a bad thing to love someone...or to let them love you, whether they stay for a long time or not." she began. "I know you miss your parents and it hurts you to be away from them, but pushing everybody else away will only make it hurt more. The only way to make the pain stop is by letting someone else love you and then pretty soon it won't hurt so much any more."
A tear slid down his face and she wiped it away with her thumb.
"Do you understand?" she asked, gently.
He nodded slightly.
"You just remember, no matter what happens, it doesn't take courage to live your life alone. It takes courage to let other people in there with you." She said, taping his chest with her finger. "A heart that never feels is not worth having."
She wasn't sure he understood all of it. He was a very bright little boy, he was also only 8. She just hoped that the thought would be tucked away somewhere for safe keeping so that when the time came it would make sense.
Several months passed, Jared and Nick having moved on to other foster homes and 3 other boys being brought in in their place along a little girl named Sarah taking the place Misty had left after being adopted. Daniel had become a playful and occasionally mischievous, though tender hearted 8 year old, playing big brother to 6 year old Manny and 7 year old Tyler who had become his roommates and trying to stay out of the way of 10 year old Denver who had also joined them. Denver tended to be moody and aggressive and came with a sarcastic sense of humor that was sometimes razor sharp.
"I'm home." Danny announced one winter afternoon, bounding into the house after school. "I'm gonna take the ball and play with Tyler, OK?" he called from the entryway.
"Come in here a minute, Danny." Marilee called back. "I need to talk to you."
Leaving his jacket on, he wandered toward the kitchen and found her mixing together ingredients for chocolate walnut cookies. It had worked once before and she was hoping it would again as she delivered what was probably not going to be welcomed news.
"Cookies, huh?" he said, leaning against the wall. "Can I lick the spoon?"
"Sure." She smiled. "Come on it, sit down for a minute."
"Danny? Come on!" Came another voice from the hall.
"Tyler, why don't you and Manny go play for a while." Marilee called. "I need to talk to Danny.
He'll be out in a minute."
"OK." The little voice replied before she heard the front door close again.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, concern covering his face.
"No." she assured him. "You haven't done anything wrong."
He sat down at the table, confused and apprehensive.
"I got a call today from your social worker." She said.
He waited for the rest of the news, not yet familiar enough with the routine to realize that that statement was the whole explanation.
"Give me a hand with this, will you?" she asked.
He got up from the table and helped her spoon the batter onto the cookie sheet. She really hated this part of being a foster parent.
"They're moving you to another home on Friday." She informed him.
He stopped in mid motion and stared into the bowl of batter, his mind reeling.
"But...but you said I didn't do anything wrong?" he questioned, tears springing to his eyes.
"And you didn't. You've been a wonderful boy."
"So why are you making me leave?" he croaked, still holding onto the spoon.
"We're not." She assured him, hugging him.
"The Maple's were...were mad at me so I got sent here..." He choked.
"Is that what you think?" she asked, incredulously. "Oh, Danny, that's not true. They sent you to us because you only get to stay in each home for a little while."
"Why?"
Now came the task of trying to explain to an upset child a system she could barely understand herself and she paused for a moment trying to find the right words.
"Do you remember when Mr. Finch was showing you how to play chess?"
He nodded.
"And you had to move some pieces out of the way before you could move others?"
He nodded again.
"That's kind of like what they're doing. There are some kids who can't be with their parents any more, but the only foster homes that could take them are ones that are only allowed to keep them for a few days, not a long time like us. So they move other kids around to make room for those new ones. It has nothing to do with you being bad or us not liking you any more. We like you very much." She explained.
"And I won't get to see you any more?" he sniffled.
"I don't know, Danny. Maybe your new foster parents will let you come back for a visit."
He sighed and pushed away from her before walking over and sitting down at the table deflated. Marilee put the cookie sheet in the oven and set the timer.
"Will I get to go to the same school?" he asked, miserably.
"Yes. You'll have the same teacher and everything." She assured him, having made a point to check that detail.
He sat for a long time, staring at the table as he leaned his chest against it, an occasional tear falling on the formica. The timer on the oven went off, interrupting the silence. Marilee got up from her chair and spread the cookies out on the counter to cool before putting another batch in the oven. Picking up a freshly baked, barely cooled one, she carried it over to the table and handed it to Danny.
"You remember what I said about pushing people away?" she asked softly, taking back the half cookie he offered her.
He nodded, chewing half heartedly.
"Well this is one of those times. I know it's scary and you're going to miss us. We'll miss you too, but I don't want you to not give your new home a chance just because you miss us."
He nodded.
"Promise?" she said, raising his chin until he was looking in her face.
He nodded again, giving her a twitch of a smile.
"Thank you." She smiled back at him. "Who knows, maybe you'll end up liking them as much as you like us. Just think of all the fun you'd have missed if you hadn't said a word to us this whole time."
He nodded with a sigh and devoured the last piece of cookie.
"Now why don't you take a couple of these out to Manny and Tyler and play some basketball?" she suggested.
He got up from the table and took the cookies from her, holding them in his hand.
"I love you, Danny." She said, bending down and kissing his forehead. "Whether you're here in our house or not."
He smiled and gave her a hug, trying not the crush the cookies before shuffling back down the hall and out the front door.
His next set of foster parents hadn't been as warm or as nurturing as the Finches, but they were good to him and had taken care of him in their own way and as time went on, he came to believe she was right. The transitions were that much easier because he went into it with an open heart, anticipating acceptance and maybe even love rather than dreading rejection. Over the next few years, spanning several different homes and even more roommates, every now and then he would step out of his classroom at the end of the day to find her standing in the hallway, ready to greet him with a hug and a small bag of freshly baked chocolate walnut cookies. He hadn't seen her any more after he'd moved to 7th grade, having changed schools, but by then her message had found its way into the deepest part of him.
Daniel sat in his office, surrounded by stacks of papers, files and scattered artifacts. Getting back into the routine after being away was always a challenge. Not that he didn't have the motivation to do so. If he'd ever needed something to keep his mind occupied it was now. Sha're's funeral on Abydos had been a few days ago, but it seemed like forever and just yesterday all at once. He'd been huddled at his desk for hours working on a translation and knew without having to check his watch that it was late. Leaning back in the chair, he took off his glasses, rubbed at his eyes and stretched. He tried to keep his mind focused on things lately, anything at all, it didn't really matter, just so long as it didn't stray back to the broken rubble his life had suddenly become. It hurt too much. He'd locked the doors inside and tacked a big "under construction" sign across his heart and intended to leave it that way for a while. After all, it seemed to work for Jack...sort of. Moving a precariously perched stack of papers to the other side of his desk, he spied a small, white bag hidden almost behind his computer monitor. Reaching across the desk, he picked it up and brought it closer for inspection. Chocolate walnut, he deduced with a sniff. Must have been Sam. He could vaguely recall her having brought him some on 2 different occasions in the last week. One in the weird dream, vision, whatever...that Ammonett's ribbon device had inspired as it attempted to burn a hole through the front of his skull. The other after he'd returned from the real funeral on Abydos and she'd found him putting things away in his office before heading off the base for a few days of (sulking, mourning, crying) R&R. Guessing that this one was the most recent bag, he opened it and pulled out a cooking, taking a healthy bite out of it and closing his eyes as he chewed. He could still see her, the tall, slender woman with dark hair wearing an apron as she mixed batter in a large bowl. The one who had giving him a simple gift of a paint brush that had given him back a part of his shattered life without even realizing it. A gift he had kept hidden under his pillow at night, tightly gripped in one hand for years.
"I'm going to tell you something, Danny Jackson and I want you to remember it always...the only way to make the pain stop is by letting someone else love you...a heart that never feels is not worth having."
Taking another bite of the cookie he chewed slowly, contemplating the advice for a moment before realizing that it still applied, even after all those years. A gentle knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Am I interrupting?" Sam asked, standing in the doorway.
"No. Just taking a break." He admitted, turning toward her. "Come on in."
"I was getting ready to head out..."she began, stepping into the room.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"2300." She answered without looking at her watch.
She'd already checked it on her way down the hall while trying to decide whether or not she should disturb him. She had a pretty fair idea of where his thoughts would be and wasn't sure she should intrude. In the end, she decided to at least check in and make sure he was alright.
"I know you're probably not in the mood for it, but I was going to go out and get some real food..."
'Real' meaning not from the commissary.
"Wanna come along?" she asked, fully prepared for the rejection she was sure was coming and willing to let him off the hook without a fight.
"Actually, yeah, I think I would." He admitted, closing up the bag and saving the last cookie for later.
There was a chance he might need it.
"Really? I mean, great." she stammered, taken completely by surprise. "Do you need a few minutes?"
"No, I think I'm done here." He said getting up from the chair and pulling on his jacket. Following her out of the room, he flipped off the light and closed the door, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked, still tasting the last remains of the cookie in his mouth.
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