Chapter 1 - Hammond's POV

I am dying.

It is no surprise to me or my family, I have been sick for quite some time now. The cancer developed around my last year at the SGC. I never let the people in my command know for there was work that had to be done. I know that they would not take it lightly, especially SG-1. I just couldn't tell Sam, Daniel, Teal'c, and Jack that my body was failing. I did not want anyone to treat me differently and I did not want to burden the members of my team. But there was one person at the SGC that knew, she was the one that ran the initial tests that found the cancer.

Dr. Fraiser agreed to keep my illness under wraps, bless the woman. She understood how I was feeling and for that I am deeply grateful. She also knew that if I told the SG teams I was dying, it may affect their job performance, something that was definitely not acceptable.

For an entire year, I regularly visited the Infirmary either late at night or early in the evening when the nurses were gone, the orderlies went home, and the SG teams were either away or on stand down. Janet admitted to me that she had never given someone chemotherapy before but she had watched it been given many a time. I had complete trust in her abilities. I had seen her administer cures for things that should not of been curable. I had seen her literally give life back to those that had died. Administering chemotherapy seemed like the easiest thing in the world compared to the things she has done.

Even after my command at the SGC ended, she insisted that she remain my primary caregiver. She became my regular doctor at the Academy Hospital. They tried to make me see a cancer specialist, but I insisted that I stay under Dr. Fraiser's care even before we discovered the cancer was terminal.

Even now that I am confined to a hospital bed within my own home, she is my doctor. It has been three years since the cancer in my stomach had been diagnosed, two years since I left the SGC. Three years I survived the damned sickness. Janet remained hopeful, thinking the chemotherapy had really done it's job, but deep down I knew that my time was coming.

Because of the frequent trips Dr. Fraiser was having to make to my home every day, usually at odd and unexpected hours, I invited her to live with me. Cassie is in college, I'm single, it's the ideal arrangement, she said. I have two guest rooms in my home and I let her have her pick of the two. She kept her house for when Cassie comes home, but all other times of the day she is with me. I really have no idea what I would do without her. I rely very heavily on her medical expertise and well as her companionship.

"Good morning, George," she says, walking into my very sterile room with two cups of coffee. It's kind of a routine that we have. Every morning she brings both of us coffee into my bedroom and she lounges on the window seat. It reminds me of the mornings I used to spend with my daughter when she was still around.

"Janet," I say, accepting the coffee. Black, just how I like it. "Thank you, my dear." She nods demurely and takes her usual place by the window. I watch her look out the window, it is snowing.

"Any pain?" She asks, drinking half of her coffee in one gulp. I smile because I know without her coffee, she is very sluggish in the mornings. I cherish that I know these small details that amount to such a great woman.

"Four," I am not even lying when I say this. She looks at me skeptically and drinks the rest of her coffee and slips into doctor mode.

She checks my vitals. "Small fever," she whispers, writing down the numbers on the chart she always seems to have. I told her she does not need to keep recording these things but she refuses to listen to me. That would mean accepting that I am nearing the end of my time, something she will definitely not do.

"I feel okay, I swear." She smiles down at me and gives me my morning pills. I take around six every morning. She asked me once if I ever wanted to know what pills she was giving me every day, but I told her I didn't care. I don't think she understood that.

"I am going to start breakfast. Pancakes?" She moves to the doorway. I look down at her feet and notice the bunny slippers I jokingly bought her last Christmas. She religiously wears them every day.

"Sure." I watch her leave the room and I feel badly that I haven't told her of the visitor we are going to have today. I feel badly that I will catch her unaware and I hope that she won't think badly of me.

I get out of bed and shower. Most days I don't feel strong enough to shower on my own and Janet is always willing to help me. I draw strength through the fact some old friends are visiting today. I hurry because I don't want her to catch me attempting this alone.

Twenty minutes later I am downstairs, dressed, and in the living room and suffered no accidents. I am dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, something I haven't worn in months. If she asks, I will just tell her that I was feeling up for a change today. Maybe a walk even, though surely she won't allow that.

"What do you want to drink?" She asks as she walks into the room. I see a frown immediately grace her face. I can tell that she knew I made it downstairs on my own, she was most likely standing in the kitchen listening intently for a cry of help. It must be that I am showered that shocks her.

She sighs softly and hands me my plate. "George, please don't over do it," She says, and leaves it at that. She never treats me as a child despite my inability to do most things on my own anymore.

"Yes, ma'am," I tease and she waves me off with her hand and leaves to go get her own breakfast. I look at the clock and immediately hear a knock on the door. Perfect timing.

I stand up quickly, probably too quickly, and rush to the door. I fix my clothing and put on my glasses. I've lost quite a bit of weight since my visitors have seen me and I want to appear healthier than I am.

I open the door. "Jack. What a pleasure to see you."

"Sir," he says and I see his eyes roam over my body. "You look… great." He says, and it makes me feel good to know that he hasn't lost his usual sarcasm.

"George, I could of answered the door-" Janet stops mid sentence, her eyebrows raising almost up past her hairline. I watch as Jack's face registers about fifteen different emotions right in a row and ends on confusion. Neither of them speak for about a minute and I know I need to step in.

"Janet, I invited Jack over to visit." Her icy stare turns to me. I can hear her screaming at me in her head. I turn to Jack. "Dr. Fraiser has been my caregiver for the past two years. She provides in home care for me."

Janet's stare returns to Jack. Her arms are crossed defensively a crossed her chest and I thank the lord I can hold in my chuckle at seeing her look so angry in bunny pajamas. He clears his throat.

"Oh." Is all he says. I know Jack isn't exactly happy with me either.

"Come on in, Jack. Hungry? Janet made pancakes." I say, ushering Jack into the living room. I know Janet is still standing in front of the door, speechless. I am hoping they can both get over their personal feelings for me, at least. I am aware that things did not end well between them when Jack packed up and left her to go to Minnesota. They haven't been in contact since.

I'll play the sick and helpless card if I need to. All I know is that I need to do this for Janet, she deserves to be happy.