Part 32
Phil woke up and noticed it was still dark outside. Carefully he rolled over and felt for Jack, but the bed beside him was empty. Not only empty, but cold. Jack hadn't even been to bed, it seemed. Sitting up Philip rubbed his eyes as he looked out the slightly ajar bedroom door and saw a faint glow from down the hall. He pushed the bedding back, got up and reached for Jack's robe, hanging where it usually hung when it wasn't around him, on the back of the bedroom door. Dragging the rust-colored toweling wrap around him and tying the cord at his waist, Philip shuffled down the hallway towards the light. He stopped as he neared the dining room and, through the large window that overlooked the sunken living room from the dining room, he could see his lover, standing before the fireplace, his head bowed. There were no lights on; the only glow illuminating the silver-haired man was that from the fire before him. Philip stood at the window a moment before turning and gingerly stepping down into the living room.
As he silently approached him from behind, he could see that Jack was jabbing at some glowing embers with the poker. Quietly he paused behind the pre-occupied man a moment then he laid his hand on the middle of Jack's back, between his shoulder blades. There was no reaction other than the ceasing of the jabbing. Stepping to the side of him, Philip saw the tears in the soft, brown eyes.
"Hey," he said, gently rubbing his hand over the maroon sweater as a cheerless smile flitting across his lips. Jack's only acknowledgement of the intrusion into his private moment was a light nod and some blinking to disperse the trapped tears. He didn't say anything. He didn't shift his eyes.
Phil waited a moment then turned to check behind himself before settling down onto the hearth with his back to the warmth. Carefully crossing his legs at the knees he leaned forward and waited as he watched Jack closely.
The reticent man remained digging at the embers until the silence compelled Philip into talking. "What's the time?"
Jack made an effort of checking his watch but he wasn’t wearing it. "Ugh, about three," he supposed, speaking in hushed tones and still sounding dazed by the intrusion into his solitude.
Following another long, this time uncomfortable, silence, Phil tilted his head right back so that he could look up at the tall man, who still hadn't looked at him. "Have you been to sleep at all?"
"No," Jack said quickly then shook his head and repeated, "No.."
Phil rose to his feet and pressed his hand against the fuzz on Jack's cheek, edging the face around to look at him. "Are you going to talk to me?"
The usually expressive eyes were dull when they finally landed upon him. "About?"
"Anything!" Phil’s voice was harder than he wanted to use against the shattered man, so he gave a soft cough to clear his throat, and then he said, in a harsh whisper, "Christ, Jack.. Let's talk about the cancer! Let's talk about how you feel about that?"
Jack sighed then shook his head. "It's late.." he said quietly as he looked away.
With a soft scoff Philip wondered if that comment was as pointed as it seemed. Deciding that Jack was just stating an obvious fact and not being cryptic, the younger man said, in a gently imploring voice, "Then come to bed."
"No, I'm not tired." The red, puffy eyes belied that statement. Turning to look at him again, Jack said, "But you have to work tomorrow, you should be asleep."
With his face upturned, a gentle smile kissed Philip's lips, as he said, "No, I won't be going to work tomorrow, Jack. I should be home on the rare days that you are.. like I used to be.”
The older man looked down into the dark eyes. Wordlessly his hand came up to cup the bearded cheek then his brushed his thumb along the very edge where hair met skin. "Maybe, tomorrow, you should go in..."
Because of the tender caress the words surprised Philip. He tilted his head slightly then looked down, his cheek pressing against the warm hand. "Okay," he said, looking briefly at Jack once more before stepping away. Jack's hand dragged across the cheek then fell off the face as Philip went away, then it dropped to slap loudly against Jack's leg.
*
Philip rolled over and silenced the alarm. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up in bed, then he sighed with disappointment as he realized he was still alone. He peeled the bedding from his legs and slipped out of the side, his feet touching the cold, wooden floor, which jolted him to full awareness.
He showered then dressed, moving slowly throughout the house, coughing violently until he'd located his MDI and used it. Bracing himself against the wall with his hand he stepped into the living room where he discovered Jack asleep on the rug before the almost dead fire. He had several cushions from the sofa under his head and the afghan thrown over him. Philip peered around to see if he was asleep or awake. As he straightened up he considered just leaving Jack a note, but recalled how he preferred getting woken up rather than waking up alone in the empty house hours later. Carefully he pressed the toe of his shoe into Jack's butt. The older man woke slowly, rolling over and looking up at him through bleary eyes.
"I'm off," Philip told him in a quiet voice. Jack blinked then nodded, but said nothing. "Call me.. if you want to," Philip said before turning. He was stopped in his tracks by a hand around his ankle. He twisted to look down and at the same time Jack jumped to his feet, with the kind of agility that Philip, many years his junior, couldn't possibly accomplish. Standing against the smaller framed man, Jack smoothed his hand through the long black hair while cradling the furry chin within his other palm. Philip's heart thudded in his throat as he looked up into the earnest brown eyes.
Jack's eyes seemed to drink in every inch of Philip's face then finally he focused on his eyes. "I do love you," he said in the raspy whisper his voice was due to too much raw emotion and not enough sleep.
The younger man impulsively gripped up the back of the maroon sweater in his fists. "I love you, too."
"I've got things.." Jack said, scratching at the inside corner of his eye with the tip of his finger then sighing as if he was trying to settle a wave of emotion within him. "Few things that I need to do today."
Philip nodded. "I understand."
"I've got a lot to get set.." Jack tapped his own skull, above his right temple, as he said, "I just.. need some time, baby."
Blinking quickly the artist nodded again as he whispered, "I know. Believe me, I 'know'. I just want to say that I understand what you're going through - or what you're going to go through over the next few days. Remember - I've been there, Jack."
The softer brown eyes shifted focus between Phil's eyes but Jack said nothing. He felt a prickle of heat rise up his spine as he realized that Philip 'had' been through it all - the younger man had experienced everything that he was trying to come to terms with. Jack was walking in Philip's shoes in so many ways - and that thought terrified him. Not only was he trying to come to terms with the condition of his lover, but also he was facing a very bleak future himself, and if the sore throat and tight chest was an indication of his health, he was more than concerned. Pushing thoughts and fears of his own health aside, Jack concentrated on the earnest look in the dark eyes intently fixed upon him.
"I've been there, hun," Philip repeated. "You don't have to go through this alone!"
Jack frowned then nodded, realizing his own guilt was warping his perception at the moment. It almost seemed as though Philip 'knew' about his own status, while at the same time, he knew that to be impossible. Those that knew Philip knew Jack didn't want him to know. He trusted that they didn't break his confidences.
"Shall I call you later?" Philip now asked, a little less intensely.
"Let me call you," Jack said. Philip sighed but agreed. He wanted Jack to kiss him, felt almost desperate for that, but Jack didn't. The older man simply let him go then cupped his hand over the top of his head - almost a paternal thing to do – as he said, "Have a good day."
'Have a good day?' Philip wondered as he nodded then left the house. How was he meant to have a good day, now?
*
Janet tucked her stethoscope into her coat pocket as she headed down the corridor towards her office at the U.S.A.F hospital. It had been a busy morning and she was well ready for her planned lunch with her lover, Sam Carter. Mentally going through a list of items she needed to pick up while out at lunch she almost missed hearing her assistant call to her, “Doctor, you have someone waiting in there for you."
With her hand paused against the wooden door she looked towards her assistant with a frown marring her usually bright face. "Who?"
"Colonel O'Neill," Carly, her assistant at the hospital for the past two years, told her with some reverence in her voice. To people like Carly, people on the fringe of the gate program - who didn't have 'all' the facts, just some of them - Colonel Jack O'Neill was revered as some kind of hero. Those that didn’t revere him were usually afraid of him instead.
Janet's frown deepened. It was unlike Jack to come to see her. Even less like him to come to her office unannounced - or voluntarily.
"He's been waiting about ten minutes," the mousey-looking young woman said as she curled her top lip slightly.
That surprised Janet even more. Jack hated to wait for anyone. Instantly she knew this was not going to be a pleasant visit. "Did you offer him a drink?"
The assistant shook her head. "He really looked like he wanted to be left alone, though."
The pretty doctor's mouth opened in question but she said nothing more. With a nod she told Carly to hold all her calls and to phone Sam and tell her that she was going to be late for lunch - if she made it at all. Carly nodded, her tight red curls bouncing around her freckled face, then she reached out and picked up the receiver. Janet took a deep breath and went into her office.
"Colonel O'Neill-" She remarked in a light voice, trying to keep suspicion from her tone. "To what do I have the honor of this visit today?" She moved around to the back of her desk, sitting in the chair and looking over at the man who hadn't looked up once.
"Need to talk.." He mumbled. She frowned as she laced her fingers and placed her hands on the desktop.
"About?" The word drew out cautiously.
Jack lifted his face, and she saw anger in his eyes. He looked like thunder; his eyes were red - whether from lack of sleep or restrained tears, she couldn't be sure. His mouth was held in a tight line and his jaw was clenched so hard that it bulged right below his ears.
His anger, his evident pain, softened her tone immediately. "Jack?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Blinking and frowning with confusion, she cocked her head to ask, "Tell you what?"
"He's got cancer.."
Her mouth dropped open slightly then she held his hot stare until she could face the stricken face no more. Looking down at her hands she said, "Because it wasn't my place."
"Not your place?" he asked shakily.
"I'm his doctor.."
"You're my friend!" He exploded, his hand slamming onto the end of the arm of his chair, and then curled into a tight, trembling fist.
She caught herself at that outburst; swallowed back the words that were on the tip of her tongue - the 'mandatory responses to aggravated Significant Others 101' - and she lowered her face. She could hear his heavy breathing and steeled herself to look into the torn eyes once more.
"Jack, Philip asked me not to tell you. He wanted to.."
"How long?" He asked, his fists tightening again.
"That he's known?" She asked.
Looking up, his eyes brimmed with tears as he asked, through clenched teeth, "How long has he got left?" He wanted 'her' version of the time line.
Janet was deeply concerned for her friend. He was visibly shaking; his hands kept flexing into fists and his shoulder were high and hunched. The brightness from the day outside seemed to mock them both in his unshed tears, shimmering with every quiver of his body.
"I can't tell you," she said quietly, looking down at her hands once more.
"Can't? Or won't?"
"Won't because I can't," she said, rolling her head back to look up at him. "I can't give you a time line, Jack. There are no promises.."
Suddenly Jack's cell phone rang and he looked at it. Screwing his eyes shut he covered them with one hand as he lifted the phone to his ear. He already knew the caller.
"Philip..."
*Jack? I've been so worried. I've called your home, your work..."*
"I .. ugh, I'm out..."
*Where?*
"What?" Jack asked.
*I hear hospital noises. Are you seeing Janet?*
The colonel's eyes shifted to the doctor and she frowned in return. "Yeah," he admitted.
*Put her on,* Philip said.
"No."
*Jack!"*
"Dammit Philip, I've come to talk to her and.."
*PUT HER ON THE DAMN PHONE, Jack!*
Jack pulled the phone from his ear as he looked over at Janet. She tilted her face slightly then put her hand out as he passed over the phone.
"Hello?"
*Janet.*
"Hello Philip."
*Tell him.*
She reacted to the soft whisper, clearly hearing the tears in the voice. "Are you sure?"
*Everything. Anything he asks you - tell him.*
She listened to the distress of the caller as her eyes watched the man opposite her. "If you're sure."
*I can't bear to tell him, please, you have to!*
"Okay, Philip," she said gently then passed the phone back to Jack.
The colonel held the small device to his ear only to hear that the line was dead. He tilted to the side as he slipped the phone into his pocket and said, in an acerbic voice, "Tell me nothing, right?"
"No," Janet said, laying her hands on the table again. "Tell you everything.."
"What? He seriously said that?"
Janet tilted her head as she quirked her brow. After what they went through just a few days ago, she wasn’t sure she could bear to tell him anything either. But, she told herself as she sucked back a deep breath through her nose, that’s why you’re the Doctor! "So, shoot. What do you want to know?" She instantly regretted that her delivery sounded a little less than compassionate, but he didn’t seem to notice.
Jack was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to hear her words clearly. He could hardly believe this. After all this time he could finally know what Philip was going though, only now, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to hear it. Especially not so hot on the heels of what he and Janet had been through just the other day. Part of him wanted to race across town to find Philip and handle this between them but he thought that Janet would be his best bet for straightforward answers.
Still, he gave a brief thought to the unenviable position it was putting his friend in before launching into his first question; "How long has he known?"
She sighed loudly and said in a direct voice, "We performed the bronchoscopy about six months ago."
"What?!" Jack almost bounced out of his chair. Tilting his face, then screwing up his eyes. As he tilted his face even more, he snapped, "six months!?"
Janet caught her breath, held it for three counts then slowly released it as she watched the distress rise within her friend. Steeling herself to remain strong she said quietly, "I put him on a course of vinblastine, bleomycin, and doxorubicin." She saw the blank look in the dark eyes and told him, "Chemo.."
He formed the word 'ah' as he nodded. "He's not on it now though?"
"No," she said, placing her hands onto her desk and scraping one thumbnail across the surface of the other one. "It made him quite ill."
"He said he had carpy's something or other.."
"Karposi’s Sarcoma. It's a form of cancer, indicative of AIDS patients.."
"So," Jack said, trying to keep his voice from cracking, "He's technically an AIDS patient now."
She nodded sadly then sighed. "His status was upgraded after the findings."
Jack closed his eyes and shook his head as he turned away. Dropping his elbows onto his knees he hid his face into his hands as he groaned softly. "Shit!"
"It's in his chest, which is why he has been coughing so much, but.."
Jack's head snapped up and he stared at her. Realization slinked down his spine like a slow crawling insect, setting all his nerve endings alight with a sickly feeling. His stomach cramped into a tight knot. "No!" He shook his head.
She fought her own feelings as she announced as clinically as she could manage it, "His last CT scan showed a shadowing on his liver.."
Jack curled into a ball as he gripped up his short, gray hair. "No.. no.. no.."
The doctor swallowed hard and leaned forward as she said, "Jack, I'm so sorry.."
"No.. No.." he kept whispering, over and over. Looking up, his face was sodden with his tears.
She bit back her own feelings now, finding it hard to stay professional when a man she cared so much for personally was grieving so hard. Still, she steeled herself once more, hoping that her professionalism would help him cope better.
"The pills didn't help?" He whispered hoarsely. “Aren’t they meant to help?”
She shook her head regretfully. "They only made him feel lethargic and caused him some level of bleeding - from the... Uh.... Anus.."
Jack stared at her. He had no idea Philip had been going through all that.
"He requested, when he heard the results of the last CT scan, to be withdrawn from medication. He said he'd rather spend his final months with you in reasonable health than drugged up..."
Jack sat up again, groaning as his butt slipped across the fake leather seat so that he could slouch against the hard backrest. Rolling his head over the edge now he stared up at the ceiling as he told her, “He told me four months."
Janet stared at his profile for a moment then lowered her eyes as she said, "Like I said, there are no guarantees. It could be more, it could be.."
Tilting his head to make it easier to slant his eyes in her direction, he finished her sentence for her, "Less?"
She pursed her lips as she nodded.
"Oh, this is not happening.. !" He sighed as he rubbed both hands down his face, leaving them to cover his mouth.
"He didn't want you to know earlier, basically because he didn't think you would do anything but worry about him for all these months."
“No, this is so much better!” Jack retorted astringently. “Keeping me in the dark, making me believe we had longer than we did.. Jesus!” He dug his heels into the carpeted floor and slipped his butt back into the seat, sitting up straighter again. “I could have done stuff, you know?”
“Like what?”
Jack shrugged as he leaned over onto his thighs now and toyed his nervous hands together. “We could have traveled. I could have taken him to Egypt. He can speak Egyptian – his grandmother taught him - but he’s never been there,” he told her sadly as he cleaned under his thumbnail with his index fingernail absently.
Janet chewed her bottom lip slightly.
“I should take him to France - to anywhere – show him art.. just do .. something..”
He stopped and looked up at the ceiling a moment. Quietly he announced, more to himself than to the Doctor, “He shouldn’t be working. I should be looking after him.” Quickly he turned to look at her, his eyes wide. “Is he okay to travel?”
She shook her head. “No. Amongst a few other reasons, he suffers severe nose bleeds..”
“Oh yeah,” Jack said, as if just recalling that. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered to himself as he leaned forward and toyed his hands again.
“Jack?” Janet started to grow concerned for him. “Are you all right?”
He took a second then looked at her, his face drawn into a tight grimace. “Just peachy! How ‘bout you?” He sniffed then looked away again.
“Is there anything I can get you?”
“Just good health!" He snapped quickly then sighed and said, "and some for the kid!"
Janet averted her eyes to the plant by her door. "I understand you're angry.”
Jack snorted at that comment and threw a sidelong glance in her direction as he got to his feet. He went over to the window and looked outside as the activity in the garden below. Crossing his arms over his waist he sighed and then looked out as far as he could see, making his brown eyes squint.
Janet’s voice was soft in the background of his thoughts. “I know this is a big shock, I've been trying to get him to tell you, but he's scared, Jack. Admitting it to you meant he had to, finally, admit it to himself."
Lowering his chin to his chest, Jack recalled how hard Philip had cried when he told him last night. He wondered if Janet was right – that it had finally sunk in for Philip then too.
"He's been too scared to tell you the truth. To face up to it.." she went on.
"He's been deceiving me," Jack said, his voice edgy again as he hooked his elbow on the edge of the window.
"You're deceiving each other.." she said. He glared at her then looked away again.
Sighing softly, Janet skirted that issue and told him, "He's very young. He's going through the worse thing in his life and he's very..."
"Scared.." Jack said, with a nod.
"Yes,” she said, also with a nod. “He is."
"So am I!" He turned from the view and looked at her, sitting cross-legged behind her large mahogany desk, her expression empathetic. But it was rehearsed empathy at best. How could she know the fear of having your partner dying of a debilitating disease that you, yourself, will eventually succumb to? Instantly he hoped she would always have that rehearsed empathy look and that she would never know, personally, the heartache that it brought.
Under her watchful gaze he shook his head and he returned to his seat. Groaning – his air expelling from his lungs as he landed heavily in the black chair - he told her again, “So am I.”
"I know you are."
He was quiet for a long while then he said, in a tight voice, stifled by clenched teeth again; "He just can't be this sick!"
She swallowed and studied the back of her nameplate sitting at the front of her desk. The last thing she needed was Jack going into full denial of this now.
"A week ago he was fine!" Jack insisted. "How did he go from being fine to being.. not fine...?" He passionately gesticulated his point with his hands as he choked on his last few words.
Janet saw his pain and sighed sorrowfully, knowing she was powerless to ease the grief he was going through. He held her empathetic gaze a moment then roughly rubbed his palm over his bristled chin and diverted his eyes, finding the edge of her desk suddenly compelling.
"It doesn't make any sense," he said finally, sounding beaten.
She blinked, clearly agreeing with that point. Spreading her hands wide, she laid them on the desktop as she looked down. "A week ago he was 'not' fine," she said in a steady voice. "A month ago he was ‘not’ fine.." She lifted her gaze and stared straight into his brown eyes. "He has *advanced* Karposi's sarcoma, Jack!"
“I know, god dammit, Janet! I'm not stupid!” He snapped harshly then stared at her, almost unable to believe his own explosion. Her mouth opened to say something, but he didn’t find out what that was. He turned and folded over, covering his face with his hands. Janet held her breath until she heard his first, harrowing sob. Biting back her own tears she got to her feet and squatted before him.
“Jack.. Oh.. Jack..!” She reached her arms up and hugged the curled up man. Kneeling to reach him better she tried to gather the grieving man into her arms as he finally crumpled, giving way to the flood of tears and remorse that he'd been stalling all night long. Blindly his arms went around her, tugging her towards him, her tiny frame slipping easily between his thighs as her stomach pressed against the seat of the chair. Her hands tried their best to smooth away the tears but they fell too fast to wipe away.
"I know it's hard, Jack,” she whispered against his temple. “None of this is going to be easy. We’ll be here, Sam and I. We want to help you as much as we can!” She felt his head acknowledge that in a kind of nod and so she went back to gently cooing at him and brushing his face with her hand to soothe him.
After a long while he peeled away from her and looked into her watery brown eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice too thick with tears to be clear. She gave him a tender smile as her thumb brushed some stray tears of the damp face. Leaning back further from her, he slipped his hand into hers and brought her knuckles up to press a soft kiss against them. “I mean that..”
A tear trickled off her bottom lash as she tilted her face and smiled at him again. “I mean it. I will be with you, every step of the way.” Her smile saddened somewhat as she told him, “but I won't lie to you - this is only going to get worse."
With a frustrated growl Jack raised his face to the ceiling. "Why can't you just knock him out with something, I'll bundle him up and take him through the gate. We can stick him in the sarcophagus that we used on Daniel...or pay our good friends the Nox a visit.. oh.. crap, they've buried their gate!"
Janet frowned. "If I didn't know you better, Jack, I'd think you were seriously considering doing just that."
The dark eyes shifted onto her, clearly begging the question - 'so how well *do' you know me?- before he looked over towards the window again.
*
Philip sat with his hand resting on the receiver of his phone. He’d been sitting there a while, his eyes runny and his thoughts shut down. He stared at the Persian-style rug on his floor but he thought of nothing. The faint sound of the phone off the hook could be heard faintly in the background.
Outside the office, Sylvia walked past the door and saw Todd standing there.
“What are you doing?” she asked, only to be hastily shushed by him. “What?” she whispered this time.
“Philip got another call from Head Office,” Todd told her. Her eyes grew wide and she leaned closer to him to listen.
“What has he said?” she asked in a voice barely louder than breath.
“Nothing much..” Todd said, resting his head against the door once more.
“You think he’s okay?” She asked, looking up at him.
He gave a hard shrug then said, “Leave him a little longer, then I’ll come back and see how he is.”
Sylvia nodded then ‘tsked’ as she headed down the corridor with Todd. “You know,” she told him when they were far enough away from the door, “He really shouldn’t be in charge of this place..”
“Oh, he’s doing a great job,” Todd said, then dropped his voice and said, “under the circumstances..” Raising his brow he left her to draw her own conclusions to that comment as he slipped in behind his desk at the front to the library again. She frowned then watched as the tall, handsome man approached Todd’s desk.
“Hello.” Daniel smiled at Todd. The librarian’s head snapped up at the sound of the velvety voice. Todd was aware of Sylvia’s eyes upon them so he tried to play it cool. “Daniel! What.. what a wonderful surprise!”
The anthropologist frowned. “I.. ugh..” He looked around them then at his watch. “Weren’t we meeting up for lunch?” Todd saw Sylvia disappear down into the Reference section and knew she couldn’t see the front desk from there.
Turning to look up at the handsome face above him, Todd said, “Of course! Give me five?”
“Sure,” Daniel jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “I want to grab a book anyway, that’s why I’m early.”
Todd’s smile grew and he nodded. “Well, I’ll leave you to it and see you when you come back.” The last part he said slightly louder than the rest as he saw the shadow of Sylvia luring between the aisles.
*
Jack sat rubbing his face, his head throbbed from the over flowing information he tried to retain. Holding his hand up he managed to silence Janet, who was busy explaining the facts about intro gastric feeding tubes, should that ever eventuate.
She sighed when she saw how pale he'd become. "Jack, should I stop all this and we can talk about it another time?"
The colonel shook his head then shrugged. "Maybe. I'm having trouble retaining any of this to be honest."
Getting up from her seat she rounded the desk and perched herself against it beside him. Reaching her hand out she ruffled it through his short hair then cupped his chin and lifted his face to look at her.
"I'll be with you - all the way.."
Jack's eyes moved from her face to the pile of brochures and books before him. "I think I'm going to need you," he murmured, unable to meet her eyes as he admitted this defeat. Janet shook his face very gently to try to get his attention once more but he didn't respond. Still, it didn't silence her.
"You're surrounded by people who love and care about you. Sam, Daniel... Teal'c... We're all here - if you need us."
Jack blinked and looked down, nodding slightly as his lips parted. "I know."
"You're going to have to kill that O'Neill bravado over the next few months and just let us in, okay?"
His watery eyes shifted onto her face again. "I don't know if I can do that," he admitted honestly. "The only person I've ever felt really comfortable about discussing anything with is.. Philip."
Janet nodded then watched as his face crinkled as the truth of the statement he just made ripped through him on a tidal wave of anguish. His soul mate, the only person he trusted and loved 100 per cent, was close to dying. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.
Moving so fast that he even scared Janet, he gripped her hand that was still holding his face and brought it to his lips, crying softly against it as he lost his demeanor once more and allowed himself to accept the futility and devastation of the situation.
Janet moved swiftly, pulling him against her body and cradling his head in her other arm. She reached down and kissed the top of his head as he let go of her hand and turned towards her, wrapping her tiny body within his arms and crying quietly against her stomach.
Being this close to a man like Jack O'Neill, feeling him trembling, feeling the radiation of his anger and tears just defied description for Janet - and reduced her to a flood of tears again.
*
End of part 32
Stories on this page are the property of Nessessitee and Slida. Please do not copy these without the written permission of the Author. All Rights are acknowledged for MGM, Gekko and Stargate Productions as to the Copyrights of the characters within this story and no infringement on the copyrights are intended. For the Bombshells Series the character of Philip Simmons is entirely the creation and intellectual property of Nessessitee and Slida.
While the performances given by RDA and MS help to fuel the author's desire to write for their characters in a niche that she feels is present on the actual show, the portrayal of their characters in loving relationships in no way reflects the Author's opinion of the men's private life, nor should it be construed in that manner.
NOTE:
Please note that while I utilise a lot of my research in this particular part (and the next one too) this is still a work of fiction, and as such, should not be treated as gospel or as any guide to HIV/AIDS. Thanks :) ~ Slida