Almost immediately when I saw this scene for the first time in Unending- this four second scene in a montage that moves in and out so quickly you could have completely missed it- my mind auto-filled this scenario in. Needing more... something by way of resolution, I furiously typed up my thoughts- and there they sat on my computer for years. I was recently watching the episode with the director's commentary on and as soon as I got to this scene, imagine my surprise to hear my thoughts being validated by none other than Rob Cooper himself. I'm sure that my interpretation is far from 'original' and that more than some of you came to your own (likely very similar) conclusions about what could have happened to cause this reaction from the characters, but I knew then that I wanted to dust this off and put it out there for all of us who might have been feeling the same way and needing a little closure.

It's Daniel and Vala, and it's full of angst. I hope that you can find something to enjoy in this story, even if it might break your heart a little.

I own nothing; sometimes I just can't let things go.

He hesitated outside of the door. The sounds coming from his roo- their room- were muffled, barely audible really, but he could tell she was crying again. It wasn't the first time, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Every other time he'd caught her, hoping against hope, she'd closed up and willed the tears away. She'd never shared them with him, not since that first time. That first time when he'd been so caught up in his own frustrations. His own needs, feelings, inadequacies. His own fears and doubts. He supposed he didn't really blame her- he was still ashamed of himself for how terribly he'd treated her then. And because of that he'd never pushed her.

But her sobs were heartbreaking lately, a different quality about them. Closing his eyes and exhaling deeply, he quietly opened the door and entered the room. His gaze found her immediately, curled up in a ball on the floor at the foot of the bed. His heart momentarily stopped beating and he sucked in a deep breath, assaulted with all the pain and misery emanating from her. It tore him up to see her like this, to know there was nothing he could do. To know there was nothing she would let him do.

She must have heard him enter because she immediately sat up and began wiping at her cheeks with the sleeves of her shirt, pasting a huge false smile on her face. But the truth was in her eyes. Behind the brittle mask was a woman valiantly fighting a soul crushing agony... and failing.

He must have been wearing his concern on his face because she sat up a little straighter, started to stand. To put her herself on the same level as him.

"No, no- don't get up," he said, forcing the words out as softly as he could.

He moved quickly, lowering himself to the ground next to her. He had a feeling that no matter what this turned out to be, it was an issue of paramount importance and he couldn't afford her a chance to blithely dismiss it again.

He looked her straight in the eyes, gently took one of her cold hands in his.

"I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong," he said in a low, beseeching tone.

His eyes searched hers; uncomfortable, she lowered her gaze to a spot on the floor. She said nothing. He brought one of his hands to her face, caressing her cheek and silently encouraging her to meet his eyes again. Her lip quivered and she glanced up at him. She'd gone pale, but still she said nothing.

"Please don't shut me out," he begged softly.

She looked away again and took a deep breath, as if steadying herself before going into battle. For a minute he thought she still wasn't going to respond. He waited, his patience for this woman infinite beyond even his own belief.

"You said that life is too short," she said absently, turning from him and glancing out the window into that never-ending field of stars.

He angled his head a little, confused. This wasn't what he'd expected. He waited for her to continue, unconsciously holding his breath. She seemed to snap out of her trance and reconsider what she was saying. Summoning a small smile that somehow conveyed both joy and sadness she said, "Who would have ever guessed that we'd find ourselves here?"

Her question was ambiguous but he sensed she hadn't it phrased it to be so, just had a very specific thought in mind that she wasn't inclined to share just yet.

"You mean... trapped on a spaceship in a time dilation field while viewing our inevitable death every day though the window?" he asked wryly.

A watery but truly genuine smile crossed her face, the first one he'd seen in days, weeks. "Well yes, that too," she said with a small laugh.

Knowing full well that hadn't been what she was referring to, he settled in closer and put an arm around her shoulder, encouraging her to lean on him. He waited for her to continue, turning his head and staring sightlessly out the window himself.

The silence was odd. Not uncomfortable, just odd. She wasn't the silent sort. For as long as he'd known her she'd been overconfident, inappropriate and well... loud. A walking, talking force of nature. In the beginning it had alarmed him, terrified him really. He'd been living in a self-imposed darkness for too many years. Even before that very first trip through the gate, things had been bleak. The only truly happy memories he could clearly remember since childhood were from that one precious year with his wife.

It almost felt wrong to be remembering that for the gift that it was while he held another woman in his arms. But that was a long time ago, another life. Slowly, he came back to the present. He noticed that her breathing had evened out but there was still the silent trickle of tears fighting their way down her face.

"Do you regret it?" he asked quietly, breaking the silence. Dreading the answer.

"Regret what... stealing your ship and beating the crap out of you? Of course not, it would have paid my bills for years," she deflected with her own attempt at humor.

He ignored the jest. "I meant all the things that have led to here. Now."

She could see in his eyes that this question had weight, it wasn't just random. She wondered if he knew how expressive his face was... how lovely and familiar and expressive.

"If you're asking do I wish I could change past events, then for the most part... no." After a moment's consideration, she added, "Being burned alive- twice- I could have done without, I'll grant you."

Another failed attempt at levity. His wonderful face turned stormy and desolate at the memory and she wondered what he was thinking. It probably would have surprised her to know he was replaying all of the times he'd nearly lost her... and had been too foolish to realize exactly what it was he had almost lost. He pulled her a little closer without even realizing it.

"But I can't ever regret being here with you," she said softly.

He let out the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding, giving her a little squeeze. Then, to his consternation, she broke into a fresh round of sobs- each one more jagged and raw than the previous. This time though, she leaned farther into him for comfort, burrowing into his side as if trying to become part of him. He turned more fully toward her, enveloping her with both arms and lowering his head to hers as she buried her tears into his shoulder. Trying to will her pain away, or failing that, absorb it into himself.

"Vala, please tell me what's wrong," he begged, worry, fear and bewilderment fighting for position as that knot living somewhere between his chest and stomach churned violently.

"I know you didn't ask for this," she said, her voice nearly a whisper, followed by a rush of words. "I know that I've pushed myself on you and been a general nuisance to you since the first day we met, and that you've more or less been forced to take me on, being that I'm quite literally one of the only women in your life, and-"

"Vala, no. Stop. Stop," he interjected, running his hands up and down her arms and pressing against her solidly as she fought back tears, trying to convey his feelings with physical contact. "Yes, you were... determined. And to be honest, at first I had no idea how to handle you. I let my fear and my doubts get in the way. I'm still not sure I know how to handle you- but you know me like no one else does, so you know I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be. Here. With you. This may not be the life I envisioned or the circumstances that I imagined would have brought us together but I'm not wasting any more of the time I've been given. I've already done that for too long."

He'd spoken from the heart- they'd never had a conversation this big before, not since that day. It was meant to reassure her, allay her worries and fears, but inexplicably her sobs continued, even louder and more guttural. More out of control. She was crying so hard now that it was an obvious struggle for her to get the words, the breath out.

"Oh Daniel..." she finally said between broken sobs, her voice trailing into a tortured whisper. "I've lost the baby." The look in her eyes was devastating and raw- anguish, guilt, fear, grief- all swimming in hot pools of liquid. She turned into his shoulder once more, writhing and unable to escape her own skin as her emotional agony caused very real physical pain- a suffocating disorientation that the cold chills and numbing pin pricks running through her body barely penetrated.

The words hit him squarely in the chest, knocking the breath out of him with a little gasp. He hadn't even known she was pregnant. How could he not know? There was a peculiar, acutely intense crushing feeling of mourning and loss, and yet an absolute, overwhelming relief washed over him simultaneously. Almost immediately he was assaulted with the guilt, which he tried his best to repress; there would be plenty of time to deal with his own feelings later. Pulling her as close as he was able to, he reached up to cradle her head while the sobs continued, ripped out of her, as he attempted to give her as much comfort as he could in his numb state. Neither spoke for a long time.