Part Ten

"Uh oh," Chloe said with a giggle after covering John's face with flour.

Reaching his hand up, John wiped his face off slowly as he tried not to laugh. "Not exactly what I had in mind."�

Having walked out of the kitchen a minute earlier, Sam walked back into the kitchen and stopped in her tracks. Covering her mouth with her hand, she laughed. "Hi, Casper. I hate to say it, but Halloween was last month."

"And you say she picked it up from me," John replied with a grin, rolling his eyes at Sam.

Shrugging, Sam glanced at the floor. Still laughing, she replied, "Apparently she picked up your kitchen skills."

"Yes," John replied with a smirk, gesturing toward the counter. "But at least she managed to make the pie first." Laughing, he ran his hand through her hair, turning it white with flour. "It was just putting everything up that got out of hand."

"That's how it usually happens," Sam replied fighting the urge to sneeze. "At least I took pictures and managed to get the camera out of the line of fire."

Smiling, Chloe asked, "Can I help develop them, Mom?"

Sam laughed, and looked over at John, who was sweeping flour off the floor. "I was thinking maybe John might want to learn how. Want to help me teach him, Chlo?" she asked, winking at Chloe.

"I don't know, Mom," Chloe said, giggling. "He might not get it."

John picked Chloe up from behind. "I'll show you who might not get it, kiddo. But first, you need to put our pie up in the fridge."

"Okay, okay," she said, still giggling. "Just put me down."

Dropping Chloe onto her feet, John replied, "Get to work kid, we're waiting."

Standing off to the side, Sam and John watched while Chloe put the rest of the cooking materials away. "I'm impressed," Sam said with a grin. "You had most of it cleaned up before I came back."

"Well," John replied with a smug grin. "I do know my way around a kitchen just a little bit."

Sam nodded, and looked up into his eyes with a serious expression. "Feel up to developing pictures?"

John glanced over at Chloe, and smiled. Speaking softly, he smiled at Sam. "Just try and stop me." A second later he laughed. "Of course, I might ruin them."

"Definite possibility," Sam said, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Shaking his head, John draped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the temple. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he replied dryly.

Chloe had just finished putting everything away when Sam remarked, "Anytime."

***

"Mr. Grant," a nurse said Monday morning. "Doctor Thompson will see you now."

John nodded and stood. When Sam took his hand and squeezed it, he smiled at her softly. "Let's go beat this thing," she said with a half-smile.

Following the nurse, they were led to the familiar office. "Please, have a seat," Doctor Thompson said gesturing at the two chairs. "I'm glad to see you Mrs. Grant." Sam nodded in response, and they each took a seat.�

John wasted no time. "So? You couldn't tell me anything before."

Nodding, the doctor replied, "I know, and I'm sorry about that." He paused for a moment. "The results were as I was expecting, I hate to say."

"What does that mean?" John asked, trying to remember to breathe.

Doctor Thompson observed John for a moment and decided to cut directly to the point. "I was correct in my diagnosis that the disease had reappeared. Only this time, it's growing at a much more substantial rate."

Sam titled her head to the side. Glancing at John she asked, "So what do you need to do?"

"That's where a decision must be made," the doctor replied, folding his hands together.

John blinked slowly, and licked his lips nervously. "What decision?"

"Chemotherapy, such as you had before," the doctor explained. "It could still possibly help you."

"Possibly?" Sam asked, sitting up straighter in her chair.

The doctor held up a hand. "Yes, Mrs. Grant. I'm sorry to say that at the rate the lymphoma is progressing, chemotherapy would only be delaying the inevitable." He paused, letting the news set in. "It is my job to present you with all of your options, including one that many of my colleagues would disagree with."

John nodded, feeling eerily calm. "What are my options, Doctor?"

"First, we can go ahead with chemotherapy. Second, you can choose to let the disease take its course."

"How much time would the chemo buy me?" John asked.

The doctor shook his head. "Judging by the state of the disease, not very long."

John nodded, closing his eyes in understanding. "And I would be miserable like before."

Nodding, Doctor Thompson replied, "Possibly worse, because it would be a heavier dosage. You must understand, that this is the recognized treatment. Many doctors would be wary of even discussing otherwise."

"Thank you," John replied honestly.

Thompson smiled weakly. "Why don't you take a couple of days? We can decide what to do next then."

John nodded, and glancing over at Sam, squeezing her hand. "Then we'll see you on Wednesday."

***

"John?" Sam asked after dinner the following night.

Looking up at Sam from where he was sitting on the couch, John asked, "Yeah, Sam?"

Sitting next to him on the couch, she took one of his hands in her own. "I know you've been wanting to play it normal, but we really need to talk."

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, John nodded. "I know, Sam. I just didn't want to think about it."

Turning enough so that she could look up at his face, Sam cupped his cheek. "I know we're waiting to talk to Chloe, but she's in bed, and you're supposed to give Doctor Thompson your answer tomorrow."

Removing his arm from her shoulders, he took her hand from his cheek and held it. "You heard what he said, Sam. Chemo probably won't really help."

"So you want to let nature run its course."�

John closed his eyes for a second, hating the pain he saw in Sam's eyes. "I'd rather be able to enjoy what time I've got left with you and Chloe," he said.�

Squeezing her hands, his voice dropped to a whisper. "Rather than make all of us miserable by being doped up."

"John," Sam said, touching his cheek with her hand.

He smiled sadly, and turned just enough to kiss her hand where it rested on his cheek. "Let's just make the most of Christmas, Sam. I don't want Chloe to remember our last Christmas as just chemotherapy."

Blinking slowly, Sam nodded. "I don't want to lose you."

"You know," he said, standing. "I heard this song while I was in Buffalo . . ." He left his statement open-ended and disappeared upstairs. Sam watched, confused, as he walked back down the stairs and over to the stereo. Placing a compact disk into the stereo, he turned the volume down low and pressed play.

Walking over to Sam, he held out a hand. "You once said every couple should dance. Care to join me?"

Smiling, Sam took his hand and stood. "I'd love to."

They were dancing in the middle of the room, Sam's head resting on his chest, when she asked, "What song is this?"

"Something I thought hit pretty close to home when I was up north." Kissing the top of her head, he closed his eyes. "I thought you should hear it."

A moment later, a man's voice cut through the silent living room.

**

Now I must leave
but before I do
before the parting shot
let me look at you.

You've known my mind
more than anyone
when all else has past
this will linger on.

You'll be somewhere in that place where I'll be going.
You will always be beside me without knowing.
Every moment you'll be with me

**

John felt Sam take a shuddering breath, and lifted her chin up with his hand. Smiling, he said, "I don't think I've ever seen you cry, Sam. It doesn't suit you."

A smile broke on her face, matched with annoyed laughter. "Stop it, Grant. You're not supposed to cheer me up."

"Yes I am," he said, kissing her briefly. "I didn't play this so that you would be upset. When I first heard it, I thought it was silly in a way." He paused, and smiled at Sam. "But then I changed my mind. You will be with me, Sam."

She nodded, but didn't respond.

**

Life isn't fair
you'll hear people say
everyone you love
time will take away.

But save all your tears
this is not goodbye
some things cannot change
some things cannot die.

**

"Sam?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

She looked into his eyes and smiled. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, a confused smile on his face.

Shrugging, she sniffed. "For being everything I never would have imagined when we first met."

***

On Wednesday, Sam and John went to speak once more with Doctor Thompson. It was that night, however, when they finally talked with Chloe.

It was just after dinner when Sam walked into the kitchen and put a hand on Chloe's shoulder. "Sweetie, let's leave the dishes for later, okay? John and I want to talk to you about something."

"Must be big," Chloe laughed. "Nothing ever gets us out of dishes."

Sam managed a small smile. "Yeah, baby, it's big."

Placing the plate she was holding into the sink, Chloe walked out of the kitchen and followed Sam into the living room. "Where's John?" she asked after they sat down on the couch.

"He'll be down in just a minute."

In fact, it was less than a minute later when John walked into the living room. When he sat down, but didn't say anything, Chloe looked back and forth between Sam and John. "So, what's up?"

John took a deep breath and held out an arm. "Come here, kiddo." When Chloe was sitting in his lap, he continued. "Remember when I went away earlier this year? How your mom and I told you that I had been sick?"

Chloe nodded, suddenly very serious. "You're not going away again, are you?"

Sam's gaze shifted between Chloe and John. Seeing uncertainty in John's eyes, she said, "John's sick again, sweetie."

Chloe looked up at John, her eyes wide with worry. "Will you be okay?"

John opened his mouth to respond, but closed it and swallowed audibly before he managed to reply. Emotion shook his voice when he said, "Not this time, little one."

Chloe searched John's face. A second later she looked over at her mom and then back at John. "Are you going to die?"

Closing his eyes tightly, John rested his forehead on the top of Chloe's head, holding her close. Sam watched as John fought to keep a handle on his emotions. The entire time, she had not seen his control waiver. It wasn't until talking with Chloe that his emotions were finally getting the better of him.

"I always said I would give everything to you straight," Sam said. Meeting John's eyes, when he nodded imperceptibly, she continued. "Yes, baby, that means John isn't going to get better this time."

Throwing her arms around John's neck, tears filled Chloe's eyes and she whispered, "That's not fair."

Holding her tightly, John felt a single tear trickle down his cheek. "I love you, little one," he whispered, "Very, very much." Glancing up to see tears in Sam's eyes, he closed his own. "Just never forget that."

"I won't." She shook her head, which was pressed against John's neck. "I promise."

***

"Hey, Grace," John said, standing in the doorway to Grace's office.

Glancing up from where she was filling out some paperwork, Grace smiled. "Hi, John." Leaning back in her chair, she motioned toward an extra seat. "Is everything okay? I haven't seen you around here since yesterday morning."

Sitting down, John took a deep breath before speaking. "Yeah," he said finally, "I haven't been in long today."

Realizing that he didn't answer his question, Grace looked more closely at John. "There's something you're not getting to," Grace said, studying John's face.

John nodded. "I got some bad news from the doctor last week."

Grace's eyes widened, but softened. She placed her hand on John's hand. "I'm sorry," she said, the words more breath than sound. Swallowing, she asked, "What is Doctor Thompson going to do about it?"

"Nothing," John said, running a hand through his hair. When Grace startled, he continued. "It's progressing too fast this time, Grace. He gave me the option of not taking the chemo."

Grace blinked slowly, letting the news set in. "How are you and Sam doing with this?" she managed to ask a few seconds later.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Grace," John replied, his gaze steady. "Sam's strong. I've never doubted that. Hell," he said with a laugh. "You know that as well as I do."�

He took Grace's hand, which was still resting on his own. "I just want you to make sure that, when the time comes, she doesn't get swallowed up by her strength." He took a deep breath, sure in the fact that he was doing the right thing. "I just want to make sure that someone is there, whether she thinks she needs it or not."

Tears filling her eyes, Grace nodded. "Of course."

Nodding shortly, John said, "Thanks, Grace." He sat motionless for a few moments. "I never wanted to do this to her."

"But?" Grace asked, prompting him to finish his statement.

He half-smiled when he met Grace's gaze. "But I wouldn't give up this past year for anything, Grace. Except maybe not hurting the two of them."

Pulling him into a hug, she held him for a moment before replying. "I happen to believe that Sam feels the same way. Only she wouldn't give it up for anything."

***

"John?" George asked, walking over to John's desk. When John looked up, George looked worried. "Sam said you wanted to talk to me."

Nodding, John stood. "Yeah, I couldn't find you earlier."

"Bailey had me on an errand, strangely enough," George replied. "What's going on?"

Tilting his head to the side, John said, "Let's go to the cafeteria, grab something to drink."

"Okay," George said, confused.

Once they were sitting at a table in the deserted cafeteria, George looked at John, concerned by the dark marks under his friend's eyes. "What's going on, John? I can tell something is up."

"Yeah," John said, exhaling slowly. "Something's up. Believe me, I wish it weren't."

George leaned back in his seat. "You're sick again, aren't you?" he asked, beating John to it.

Nodding, John closed his eyes briefly. "I found out last week."

"Well, you'll beat it again," George said decisively. "You did it before, you'll do it again."

John shook his head slowly. "Not this time, George. Everything is going too fast."

George paled, his eyes wide. "So what are you going to do?"

A faint smile on his face, John replied, "I'm going to enjoy the holiday with my family. After that, I'll just wait and see."

"How's Chloe?" George asked a moment later.

John's smile faded. "She's determined to be strong just like her mom."

"And you?" George questioned, trying to read the emotions in John's blue eyes.

Shrugging, John replied, "Feeling guilty, I suppose."

George smiled. "I can imagine what Sam would say to that."

"Oh boy, can you," John said with a weak laugh. "She'd cream me for sure."

"That's why you two worked so well," George said in reply. "You loosened her up, and she calmed you down."

Standing up, John tossed his drink in a waste bin. Shoving his hands in his pockets, John looked over at George. "Enough of this, we've got work to do."

Standing, George clapped a hand on John's shoulder. "Lead on, my good man."

***

A few days before Christmas, John and Chloe went shopping together. John had been getting weaker, but had been determined to take Chloe to pick out a present for her mom. At the house, Sam found herself in the dark room.

She smiled faintly at the few photographs from Thanksgiving that still rested on hangers. Pulling one down, she looked longingly at the still image: John and Chloe forever captured trying to make a coconut cream pie.

Laying the photo down, she noticed a used roll of film lying on the counter. Picking it up, she looked at it, for some reason she couldn't remember what was on the film. Turning on the overhead red light, she began to work on developing them.

A little while later, she laid the first print into a pan of solution and felt her heart constrict when she saw the image that blurred to life. There before her was one perfect moment in time. The three of them were sitting on a bench on the back porch, laughing on Chloe's birthday.

Blinking away the moisture from her eyes, Sam pulled the next sheet and waited to see what image would await her there. Seeing one of the pictures she had taken that day, of Chloe sitting in John's lap, his chin resting on her head, Sam felt her carefully constructed control slip.

Ever since the night they had danced in the living room, Sam had done her best to distance herself from the slow agony that was tearing at her heart. Although George had told her what John had said, she already knew he felt guilty for something that he had no control over. As a result, she had buried her own anxiety.

The image that reached out to her from the final tray of the development process changed that, at least for the moment. Picking the photo up from the water, she reached out with shaking fingers to trace the lines of the image.

Her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, she clutched the dripping photograph to her chest and leaned against the wall. Sliding down the wall, Sam sat on the floor, her knees pressed to her chest. Still holding the photograph, she finally allowed herself the tears that had been threatening for weeks.

***

Taking a deep breath, John knocked on the door of Bailey's office two days before Christmas. "Enter," Bailey called out from inside the office.

Pushing the door open, John walked in and closed it behind him. "Bailey," John said, standing in front of his desk.

Looking up at the young agent, Bailey saw the paper John was holding. "Is this what I think it is?"

Handing him a form to make it official, John nodded. "After Christmas I won't be back, Bailey."

Bailey looked up at John with sympathetic eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm not happy about it, either," John replied, shaking his head. "But it's time."

Folding his hands together, Bailey leaned back in his chair. "I can't say I understand, but I can try," he said. Taking the form, he signed it. "Go spend the holidays with your family, John. Make the most of it."

"I intend to," John said with a forced smile.

"Good luck, Johnny," Bailey said when John turned to leave.

Nodding, John's eyes softened. "Thanks, Bai."

***

"Time to get up, kiddo," John said early Christmas morning.

Sitting up sleepily, Chloe looked at John in disbelief. "You're up before I am? How'd that happen? And on Christmas no less."

Smiling, John ruffled her hair. "Yep, it's Christmas, but I set my alarm extra early. So get the lead out kid. Time's a wasting."

"Where's Mom?" Chloe asked, getting out of bed.

"She's making breakfast," John replied, leading Chloe into the hallway.

Chloe, more awake, commented, "That's too bad, I was looking forward to scrambled eggs and toast like last year."

John grinned and tickled Chloe. "Be careful what you ask for, kiddo. You got pretty sick of those before."

"It wasn't so bad," she said, giggling as she ran down the stairs.

Following her more slowly, John called out, "No running on the stairs, Chloe."

"Yes, sir," she said over her shoulder, slowing down to a fast walk.

Behind her, John merely laughed.

***

When Chloe was almost done opening her presents, Sam pulled two packages from behind the couch. "What's that?" John asked, pointing at the presents.

Sam smiled. "My one little secret."

John raised his eyebrows. "Oh really?"

"Yes, really," she replied, her smile wavering for a moment. "This one is for you, Chlo," she said, handing Chloe one of the boxes. "And this one," she added, handing the other to John, "is for you."

Chloe looked up at her mom. "Can I open it?"

Nodding, Sam replied, "Go for it. I think you've exhausted your supply."

Tearing into the wrapping paper, Chloe opened the box to reveal an ornate silver picture frame. Turning the object over, she looked up at John. "It's you and me! On my birthday last summer, I think," she said, showing him the framed photograph.

John smiled faintly, seeing the captured image. "That's great, kiddo." Looking over at Sam, he asked, "A picture?"

Nodding, she gestured to the package he was holding. "Why don't you open yours?"

"Okay," he replied, tearing into the paper similar to the method Chloe had used. Sam always smiled watching him open presents in such a fashion. A moment later, he pulled a sturdy wooden picture frame from the box.�

"Sam?" he asked, after turning the frame over to see the photo of the three of them from Chloe's birthday. In the candid picture, they were laughing, and Sam had leaned her forehead on the side of John's head.

After watching John's reaction, Sam took a sip out of her coffee cup. "Do you like it?" she asked, trying to gauge his reaction.

He looked up from the photograph, smiling with soft eyes. "I love it."

"I want to see," Chloe said, climbing up onto the couch between Sam and John.

Laughing, John angled the frame where Chloe could see the picture. "What do you think, kiddo? Am I photogenic or what?"

Sam blinked when Chloe smiled. "I always thought you were handsome."

"Even before your mom did?" he asked, winking at Sam, who was busy trying to memorize the interaction.

Chloe glanced over at Sam and giggled. "Way before then."

***

"Good night, little one," John said, kissing Chloe on the nose. When she smiled, he asked, "Did you have a good day?"

Chloe's smile brightened. "Best Christmas ever."

Laughing, John tucked the blanket in tighter around her. "I'm glad. Now, it's time for you to go to sleep."

Nodding, Chloe glanced up at where Sam was standing beside John, her hand on his shoulder. "Good night, Mom. Love you."

Taking John's hand the two of them walked toward the door. "I love you, too, Chlo," she said, smiling.

"John?" Chloe asked just before they could shut the door.

Walking back across the room, he asked, "Yes, kiddo?"

"I'll remember my promise," she said. She was almost asleep when she mumbled, "Forever."

Blinking back tears, John kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you, little one."

Joining Sam back in the hallway, they walked back downstairs and sat in front of the fire. "How are you feeling?" Sam asked a few minutes later.

Brushing a lock of hair away from her face, John rested his hand on her cheek. "Tired, but I'm used to that by now."

Sam blinked and nodded. "Did you talk with Bailey?"

"A couple of days ago," he replied.

Turning to rest her head on his shoulder, they leaned back until they were resting against the couch. "John," she said a few seconds later, "I've been wanting to talk to you about something."

"Anything," John replied, shifting so that he could see her face.

Looking up into his eyes, Sam swallowed before saying, "I know that you've been feeling guilty about what's happened . . ."

"George and his big mouth . . ." John muttered, interrupting Sam.

Placing a finger over his mouth, Sam continued. "Yes, George may have said something to me, but I'm not blind John. I know you better than you might like at times. I know when you're upset, and this time I didn't let myself overlook it."

Shaking his head, John pulled Sam's hand away from his mouth. "You don't need to worry about that, Sam."

"Yes, I do," she said directly. "You're being sick is bad enough, I don't want to see you make yourself miserable on top of it. It's not your fault, so stop feeling guilty."

"I wish it was that easy, Sam," he whispered.

Nodding, Sam ran her hand through his hair. "It can be, if you let it. A smart guy once said something similar to me when I was feeling guilty about something I couldn't control."

"What about you?" John asked, searching her eyes. "When will you let yourself feel? I can see you locking everything away."

Sam shook her head. "Because this isn't about me."

"That's bull, Sam, and you know it," John replied. Taking her hand, he kissed it. "This is as much about you and Chloe as it is me." His voice was hoarse with emotion. "You're the ones who have to live with it."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, and she leaned her forehead against his cheek. Whispering, she said, "But you're the one who has to die with it."

Wrapping his arms around her, John felt a tear slide down his cheek. "Let me be here for you while I can Sam," he said eventually. "Maybe it will help us both."

Taking a deep breath, Sam leaned back and John gently wiped the moisture from her cheek. She smiled when she said, "Somewhere along the line, I lost the ability to see the world without you in it."

He kissed her softly before replying. "I'll be there as long as you want me to be, Sam." Placing his hand over her heart, he half-laughed when he said, "It may be hokey, but I'll always be a memory away."

She nodded, but as she touched his cheek she replied, "You can't touch a memory." When he didn't reply right away, she wrapped a hand behind his neck and pulled him into a long kiss.

"Live in the moment, Sam," he said when the kiss ended. "Let tomorrow take care of itself."

***

Sitting in the doctor's office, Sam and John waited for Doctor Thompson to come in and discuss his latest test results a few days after Christmas.

Walking into his office, the doctor sat down behind his desk. "Hello again," he said, nodding to Sam.

Sam smiled politely, but it was John who spoke. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we? How much longer do I have?"

"It's not an exact science," the doctor reminded him. When John sighed impatiently, he relented. "Judging by what I'm seeing in your latest test, it won't be long now. Maybe a month on the outside." John didn't blink, and Sam squeezed his hand tightly. "I'm sorry," Doctor Thompson added in almost a whisper.

"Can you do what we talked about?" John asked.

Rubbing his eyes, the doctor nodded. "I can make it possible for you to stay at home, and avoid examination after . . ." he paused, glancing at Sam and John, "afterwards."

John nodded, and Sam replied, "Thank you, doctor."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Doctor Thompson asked.

"I can handle a little pain," John argued.

The doctor shook his head, "You know this isn't a little pain we're talking about, John. Buffalo was a walk in the park compared to what this will be."

"Is there anything you can give him that won't affect his awareness?" Sam asked, glancing over at John before looking back at Doctor Thompson.

Nodding, Doctor Thompson replied, "We can work something out. If," he added, "you're willing to administer it, Mrs. Grant." When Sam nodded, he said, "Nurse Simmons will be able to show you how to control the at home medication machine."

"Sam . . ." John said, looking over at her.

Shaking her head, Sam replied, "No buts, John." Looking at John, her tone softened. "This is something I want to do, if you'll let me."

After a moment, John nodded curtly. "Let's do it then."