Part Eleven

The new year was barely a week old, but Sam was already about to drop. Hearing a knock on the front door, she walked downstairs. "Hey, George," Sam said, holding the front door open so that George could walk inside the house.

Nodding, George looked at Sam. "You look tired," he said softly.

Sam rubbed a hand over her eyes. "That's the thing," she said with a yawn. "You would think after being a forced insomniac for so many years, that I would be used to not getting much sleep."

"Come here," he said, pulling Sam into a hug. When he let go, he looked into her eyes. "How's John?"

She shook her head. "Not great." She paused and walked into the living room. She half-laughed before saying, "Although he's doing a good job of not showing it."

"That's our John," George said softly.

Sam nodded, and then shook her head. "Sorry, I didn't think to ask if you wanted anything to drink."

"Don't worry about that," George replied, "I'm a big boy." Leading her to the couch, he asked, "What if I got something for you? Tea? Hot chocolate? Scotch on the rocks?" he added the last as a joke and smiled when Sam rolled her eyes.

Relaxing on the couch, Sam sighed. "There's some iced tea in the refrigerator. If you don't mind . . ."

"Consider it done," he said before disappearing into the kitchen.

A few moments later he walked back into the living room, carrying two glasses of tea, only to discover that Sam had dozed off. Placing the drinks on coasters, he pulled an afghan over Sam and walked up the stairs.

Knocking softly on the door, George waited a second before walking into the bedroom. "Hey, buddy," he said, crossing the room.

John grinned and gestured around the room. "Would you believe I finally have more connections than your computer?"

"I'd believe it," George said with a laugh as he took the seat next to the bed.

A few silent seconds passed before John commented, "I don't know how people do it, George."

"Do what?" he asked, not following his meaning.

John fidgeted slightly. "Sit around all the time. I'm bored to tears here."

George grinned. "Well, you never one to sit still."

"Yeah," John replied. "And now I have to just lay here." He took a breath before adding in a whisper, "And what's worse is Sam has to just sit by and watch."

George nodded, all traces of his smile gone. "Well, at the moment, she's asleep on the couch downstairs."

Relief washed over John's features. "Good, I'm glad. She's determined to do everything herself."

"That's why I'm here," George replied. "Thought an extra pair of hands might help."

His eyes drifting shut as his medication kicked in, John smiled. "Thanks, George."

"Anytime, buddy," George replied, leaning back in the chair.

***

When Sam woke up, at first she was disoriented to find herself curled up under a blanket on the couch. Glancing around the room, she saw two watered down glasses of iced tea and remembered George's visit.

Standing, she stretched her arms over her head and walked up stairs. Walking into the bedroom, she smiled. "Hello again, George."

George startled slightly, and turned around to face Sam. "Hi, Sam. Have a nice nap?"

Nodding, she squeezed his shoulder and replied, "Thanks, I needed it." Looking over at John, she asked, "Has he been asleep the whole time?"

"Off and on," George replied, looking at his friend. "But mostly, yeah, he's pretty worn out."

She managed a short laugh. "He would hate that." Sam sobered when she added, "But I don't think either one of us could have handled the alternative."

"Here," George said, standing up and gesturing toward the chair. "Have a seat."

Smiling, she sat down. "Thanks." Taking John's hand, she didn't say anything more.

"Where's Chloe?" George asked a few moments later.

Glancing up at George, Sam rubbed a hand over her eyes. "She's out with Grace. She wants to be here with John, but it was getting to be too much for her."

"She's a great kid, Sam," George said with a smile.

Nodding, Sam replied, "I know. She's been great the whole time. She wants to help with anything she can." Sam glanced at John before adding, "She's been through so much. She just tries to forget that she's still a little girl sometimes."

"And what about you?" George asked with a concerned glance at Sam.

Sam shrugged in reply. "I'm doing whatever I can to make it easier on them."

George kneeled next to Sam. "And what about you?" When she glanced at him, not comprehending, he explained. "You know what John would say to that statement."

"I know," she said with a sad nod. Rubbing her eyes, she added, "I just wish he was healthy enough to stop me."

***

Grace brought Chloe home the next day. George, who had come back over that morning, took Chloe outside while Sam and Grace talked.�

"How are you doing?" Grace asked, following Sam upstairs.

Sam smiled, but the emotion didn't reach her eyes. "I'll survive."

"How's John doing?" she asked, standing just outside the bedroom.

Sam blinked several times, willing herself not to cry. "Not good." She paused, and took a deep breath before continuing. "He's in a lot of pain. He won't show it, but I can tell."

"What about the pain killers Doctor Thompson prescribed?" Grace asked softly.

"The ones he refuses to take hardly any of?" Sam laughed humorlessly, and leaned against the wall. "They help some, but he wants to be coherent. Doctor Thompson has finally resorted to morphine. Morphine and coherent don't work together, do they?"

Grace laid her hand on Sam's shoulder. "Why don't you go and spend some time with Chloe?"

Shaking her head vehemently, her voice only managing a whisper, Sam replied, "I can't."

"Sam . . ." Grace said, trying to reason with her.

Glancing over at the door, Sam took a shaky breath, and added, "I have to be there when . . ." Stopping in mid-sentence, she met Grace's gaze. Sam wiped angrily at the moisture on her cheeks and tried to explain. "When it's over, Grace. I have to be the one to be there."

"Okay," Grace said, pulling Sam into a hug. "Let's see how John is doing, maybe Chloe can come upstairs and talk to him for a little while."

Nodding, a flicker of a real smile crossed her face. "He'd like that."

Grace smiled. "You're right."

Sam wiped the remainder of the tears from her cheeks and took a deep breath before opening the door.

When he heard the door open, John glanced over at the doorway. Seeing Sam, he commented, "Hey there, you."

Smiling, Sam walked over and carefully sat on the edge of the bed. Brushing an unruly curl off of his forehead, she kissed his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

Hiding a wince, he replied, "No different than the last few dozen times you asked." Managing a smile he looked over at Grace. "Can you please convince her to take a break?"

"Sorry, John," Grace replied with a smile. "You should know better than that."

Taking Sam's hand, John looked up into her eyes. "Why don't you go and play with Chloe?"

Shaking her head, she bit her lip before replying. "Nope. You're stuck with me." She sat there for a moment, just looking in his eyes before adding, "Although, I'm sure she would love to see you. What do you think? Are you up to it?"

"For the kiddo?" John asked, his voice strained. "I'm always up for it."

Behind them, Grace said, "I'll go get her, okay?"

John met Grace's eyes for a moment and nodded shortly. "Thanks, Grace," he whispered before looking back up at Sam.

Once Grace had walked out of the room, Sam leaned down and kissed him gently. "I love you," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She rested her forehead on his for a moment.

"Sam?" he asked, and she pulled back so she could look at his face. Carefully he raised his hand so it rested on her cheek. "I love you, too," he said finally.

A moment later, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Sam said, standing up.

"Mom?" Chloe asked, sticking her head in the room.

"Hi, sweetie," Sam said with a smile. "Come on over," she added, holding out her hand.

Behind Chloe, Bailey stood in the hallway. "Sam," he said with a nod. He turned his gaze to John and smiled weakly. "John, I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?" John asked with a small grin.

"Keep the attention of these two all to yourself," Bailey replied, standing next to Sam.

Watching as Chloe walked slowly across the room, John smiled. "Well, it's a tough job."

Managing a strained laugh, Bailey commented, "I'm sure it is." He paused and glanced over at Sam. "Can I steal this one for a minute, John?"

"Only if you force her to eat something," John said, trying to keep his tone light.

Taking Sam by the elbow, he led her from the room. "I believe you heard the man, Sam."

After they closed the door behind them, John focused on Chloe. "Come over here, kiddo," he said with a smile.

"I missed you," she said in a small voice once she was standing next to his bed.

"I missed you, too," he replied. A second later he asked, "Would you pull that chair up to the edge of the bed?"

She looked at him curiously. "Okay." She then proceeded to maneuver the chair.

When she was done, John continued. "Now, climb up in it and you can sit on the edge of the bed."

"Will it not hurt you?" Chloe asked, looking up at John with absolute trust in her eyes.

Shaking his head as best he could, John replied, "Nah, I'm tough. Now get up here, kiddo."

Grinning, Chloe climbed up in the chair and was soon sitting next to John. When John sucked in a quick breath, Chloe said, "See, I thought it would hurt you."

"Doesn't matter," John said with a straight face. Giving her arm a light squeeze, he said, "I'm just glad you're here."

Chloe nodded. "Me, too." A moment later she looked over at the bedside table. "That's our picture that Mom gave you."

John glanced at the framed photo as best he could and smiled. "How could I forget your birthday?"

"It was fun, wasn't it?" Chloe asked, a small smile on her face.

Nodding, John replied, "It sure was, kiddo."

"That seems like so long ago," she said in a small voice. She lowered her head, but didn't say anything more.

"What is it, little one?" John asked a moment later.

Chloe looked up from where she had been staring at the covers. Looking into John's eyes, her lower lip quivering, she asked, "How much longer are you going to be with me and Mom?"�

John could feel tears burning the corners of his eyes, and he blinked before answering her. "Forever, in a way, little one."

"As long as I keep my promise?" she asked, her blue eyes hopeful.

Smiling, John sniffed. "Even longer."

Biting her lower lip, she hesitated before asking, "Can I give you a hug?"

"I'd be hurt if you didn't," he whispered.

Carefully, Chloe leaned over and wrapped her arms around John's neck. One hand on Chloe's back, John guided it so that her cheek was lying on his shoulder. "I'm going to miss you," Chloe said, sniffing around the words.

Chloe sat up a little, and John tilted his head just enough to kiss her on the nose. "Just remember that I didn't want to go, okay, little one? I'd never leave you intentionally."

"I know," Chloe said, nodding. Having sat up completely, she leaned forward she gave him a kiss on the cheek. She then sat there for a second, looking at her hands. When she looked up, she said, "I don't remember my real dad that much anymore."

"Chloe . . ." John said, his voice weak.

She shook her head, and John couldn't help but think she looked just like her mom. "And I know you're not him, but . . ." She paused, and wiped the back of her hand over her cheek, "In a way you are my dad, John."

John looked at her, smiling faintly. "You don't have to say that, little one."

"I want to," she said, sniffing. In a quiet voice, she continued. "I know Daddy is in heaven, but I hope he wouldn't mind if I called you dad, too."

John's eyes filled with tears, and he smiled. "You're the best daughter anyone could ask for," he replied, blinking quickly. "Do you know that, kiddo?"

Chloe took one of John's hands in both of hers. "I love you," she said eventually. Repeating his words from before, she added, "Just never forget that."

Squeezing her hands, John's eyes were bright. "I won't. I promise."

***

Standing up from where Grace, George and Bailey had cornered her at the kitchen table, Sam said, "I really should get back up there."

Grace nodded. "Okay, I'll come with you."

Relenting, Sam agreed. Looking at George and Bailey, she said, "You two don't have to stay here if you don't want to."

"That's not a question, Sam," George said.�

Bailey agreed with George. "We're where we need to be, Sammy."

Not wanting to argue, Sam turned and walked out of the room. Close behind her, Grace followed her upstairs. They arrived outside the bedroom door in time to hear the last part of Chloe and John's conversation.

After a few minutes of listening to the quiet discussion, both Sam and Grace had tears in their eyes. "Go on, Sam," Grace said a few moments later, when the conversation inside was apparently over.

Nodding, Sam knocked on the door and went inside. Grace, for her part, walked back downstairs to wait with George and Bailey.

"How are you two doing up here?" Sam asked after closing the door.

Both Chloe and John smiled. "We were just having a chat, right, kiddo?" John said a second later.

Chloe nodded, but it was Sam who spoke next. "Why don't you climb down from there and let John get some rest, okay, Chlo?"

"Okay," she said, her voice low. Just before walking through the door, Chloe turned and walked back to the bed. "Will I see you again?"

John thought about what he should say, but settled for being honest. "I hope so, little one."

Sam flinched at the finality in his words, and Chloe nodded, chewing on her lower lip to keep from crying. "I hope so, too," she replied. "But if not," she added, being as grownup as she could manage. She stood on tiptoe kissed his cheek, and whispered into his ear. "I love you, Dad."

"I promise, little one," he whispered. "Forever."

As Chloe walked out of the room, Sam struggled with her emotions. "You really think you just said goodbye," she said a few moments later, looking at John with tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sam . . ." he said, hating the sadness he saw on her face.

"Don't," she said, a harsh edge to her voice, "be sorry." Leaning over, she kissed him and lowered her voice. "Just be here."

John closed his eyes and nodded. "For as long as I can."

***

The next time Sam went downstairs, it was the following morning. In the living room, Grace, George and Bailey sat, each wearing the same clothes they had on the day before.

"Sam?" Grace asked, standing.

Looking around, she asked, "Where's Chlo?"

George stood. "She's still asleep, Sam."

"Were you here all night?" Sam asked, rubbing a hand over her eyes and through her hair.

It was Bailey who nodded, saying, "Don't worry about us, Sam. How's John?"

Sam shook her head, the lost look in her eyes conveying more than the words she couldn't manage to voice.

Suddenly alert, George hesitated in asking, "Is he . . ."

"No," Sam said, shaking her head, and clenching her fists at her sides. "Not yet. But he did ask to speak with each of you."

"Are you sure?" Bailey asked, standing a few feet away.

Nodding, Sam replied, "It's what he wants. Go on upstairs, Bailey," she added, pointing toward the stairs.

With one last look at Sam, Bailey sat his coffee cup down and disappeared up the stairs.

Sam dropped down on to the couch, resting her elbows on her knees. "Sam?" Grace asked, sitting on one side of her. Before she responded, George sat on the other. "Are you still with us?" she asked, trying again.

"I'm fine," Sam said, not moving.

"No," Grace said softly. "You're not."

Although she shook her head, Sam's shoulders started shaking. "It's not fair, Grace. This wasn't supposed to happen like this."

"I know, sweetie," Grace said, pulling her into a hug. "I know," she repeated.

***

During the day, each of the team members took turns talking to and sitting with John. That night, after Chloe had gone home with Grace, Sam sent the other team members home.

"It's just you and me now," Sam said, forcing a smile.

John looked at her through lowered lids, too tired to even open his eyes all the way. "Looks like it," he managed to say with a half-grin.

When he hadn't been looking, Sam had turned the pain medication machine up to the dosage that the doctor had originally prescribed. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

"I'm fine, Sam," he said, his voice slurring. A few minutes later, he asked, "Did everyone leave?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, finally."

When John gasped sharply instead of replying, Sam closed her eyes tightly. Without thinking, she crawled up in the bed next to John. "Hey, beautiful," he said a moment later. "If I knew that was all it would take to get you into bed," he paused, clenching his teeth when another wave of pain passed over him. "I'd have done it a long time ago," he finished, somewhat breathless.

Wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead, Sam smiled. "What can I say, I was always a sucker for those blue eyes of yours."

"Sam?" he asked, the consciousness in those eyes fading before her eyes.

Blinking away the ever-present tears, she nodded. "What, John?"

He raised a clumsy hand to rest on her cheek, and smiled faintly as he whispered, "Don't forget our song." Taking a steadying breath, he added, "You'll be with me."

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Sam placed her hand over John's and held it against her cheek. Managing a faint smile, she kissed him, a long, gentle kiss. Breaking the contact, whispered in his ear, "You'll be with me, too."

Fresh tears slipped from her eyes as she saw the hint of a smile in his tired blue eyes. Brushing his hair back, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead softly. When she pulled back, she could see the faint remorse in his eyes and she whispered the words that broke her heart. "It's okay, John. Just let go."

Their eyes met for a final time, and each was filled with an unquestionable love for the other. His eyelids having grown heavy finally dropped slowly closed.

As she listened, John's struggling breathing was the only sound in the room. Sam wasn't sure how long she sat there, holding him when his breathing slowed and finally stopped. Holding him tighter, she rocked back and forth, running her hands through his hair.

Kissing the top of his head, a sob wracked her frame as her tears continued to fall. "You'll be with me, John." Closing her eyes, she pressed her face against the side of his. In a voice, not even a whisper, she added, "Always."


The End



bet you thought it would never end. In fact, if you made it this far *please* email me and let me know. This story has been my one focal point writing wise, pretty much, for three weeks now. Let me know if it was worthwhile.

Thank you,
kaly
[email protected]


Song Credit:
"You'll Be With Me"
performed by: Lawrence Gowan
published by: sorry I don't know :-)

Other Credits (this is pretty much every thing I can remember even being mentioned):

again, I'm making no money, just borrowing for a bit! If I did own any of these, would I be writing fanfic? :-)

Star Wars: the one and only George Lucas owns this wonderful creation! Go George!
Little Women: uh, I'm not sure. Although, by all rights and means, it's Louisa May Alcott's. :)
Titanic: this goes to Paramount and 20 th Century Fox.
Steel Magnolias: the weepy movie of all time, but I don't know the company.
Dragonheart: isn't that Universal? That sound right, at least.
Super Soakers aren't mine either *l*
Disney parade: that would be property of the mouse

And lastly. I apologize for any and all medical inaccuracies. I did research non-Hodgkin's lymphoma to an extent, but the information I gathered was mostly on treatment and diagnosis - not the long term effect.