The Odyssey beamed Sam and the others to the Gate room as soon as it was in range. A harried looking General Landry stood waiting for them.

"Welcome back, SG-1. Glad you made it out alive," he said, in his normal tone.

He tilted his head towards the door and the group's eyes followed his lead. From the middle of the gate room they all saw Jack stumble in, his bald head suntanned, wearing blue BDU's and clearly out of breath. He had run here, as soon as he saw the first sign of flashing red lights and the overhead system announced, "General O'Neill to the gate room!"

"Jack!" Sam exclaimed, clearly shocked to see him here. She had left him in Washington almost 2 weeks ago, when this whole supergate fiasco had begun. She closed the distance between their bodies in a few short steps.

Jack grabbed for her as soon as she was within reach, "Oh, thank God." He hugged her, breathing out a sigh of relief. They clung to each other, and the rest of the room faded away, Landry walked by, and SG-1 slapped Jack on the back and retreated slowly to the infirmary. The SF's in the gate room looked awkwardly at each other and decided to do the same, filing out one by one next to the couple. It was an unfamiliar public display of affection for these two people, but Jack had just spent the past few months fighting for his life against a microscopic killer, and Sam had just floated in space for over 5 hours thinking her fate was sealed, so at the moment neither seemed to care.

"What are you doing here?" Sam whispered close to his ear, her death grip on him held firm.

Jack shifted his face and kissed her temple, "I came as soon as they were done with me in Washington," he stated clearly.

Sam's breath caught in her throat, and she closed her eyes. "Do they know yet?" Is that why he's here? Because he's lost the battle? He seemed too calm for that.

"Uh huh," was his answer.

Sam waited for another moment, her heart in her throat. When it became clear he wasn't going to volunteer more information, she added in another whisper, "Is it gone?" and as she asked it, she was sending up a silent prayer. Please let the cancer be gone! Please.

He hugged her tighter, if it were even possible, which only made her anxiety grow. Then he leaned in to her ear and whispered, "It's all gone, Sam. It's all gone."

"Oh, God, Jack." Sam sobbed, and her knees gave out. Jack caught her weight and shuffled them closer to the wall. The SF by the door caught sight of the emotional scene, and he nodded to the SF across the room at the opposite door. Getting the message, the SF swiped his card causing the door to drift closed, the SF near Jack following suit.

They were alone now, in this huge room, their embrace being witnessed only by the massive object that had brought them together in the first place. The Stargate had been their common ground all those years ago, when Sam was an eager and inexperienced Captain, and Jack a reckless lost man on a suicide mission. Sam's weight became too much for Jack, and as she cried and hugged him, he slunk both their bodies down against the wall, until they were both sitting, huddled together like two people starved for each other's touch.

Having calmed down, Sam moved to get off of Jack, and sat next to him on the floor, her long legs stretching and her huge combat boots poking out. Jack's arm lifted and scooped her shoulder into him, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. The position was reminiscent of rare moments on missions gone wrong, where they would cross the line and give each other the only comfort they could.

"So, I hear you were testing gravity there for a while," he spoke, trying to make light of the situation. In all truth he had been terrified to hear Sam had been floating in space for hours.

She sought his hand and interlaced their fingers. "It was…" she scrunched her face and tried to find the right words, "probably the most distressing five hours of my life." She didn't know how else to describe it. This was Jack, so she went on, "I watched the Korolev explode, Jack." He turned his head so he could see her now, "I knew Daniel and Cam were aboard… I thought they were dead." She sighed, "and several Mother Ships went down… I didn't know which one Teal'c was on…"

"Sam," Jack interrupted her and she looked up at him then. "I'm so glad you made it back."

She smiled at him. "Tell me what Dr. Braye said about the results," she changed the subject, turning his wedding ring round and round on his finger.

Jack was silent for a moment, then told her simply, "The cancer is all gone, no mestat… what's the word?"

"Metastasis," she corrected him.

"Right; no spreading. He says as far as they can tell I'm clean. He wants to retest me in 3 months, then every 6 months for the next few years. After that, he thinks I can have a pretty decent chance at living till my knees go out." Sam leaned in and gave Jack a soft kiss, pulling back way too soon in Jack's opinion. He noticed she was mulling over something. "What?" he asked her.

"I spoke to Kvasir. He said they would send a ship when they could—"

"Sam…." Jack interrupted her.

"He said they could put you in their stasis pod," she paused because he was shaking his head. "Just to help determine if it's really all gone." Her tone was pleading.

"It is, Sam. It's all gone." He looked deep into her eyes. "I need you to believe. I need you to know we have a future. If they come and want to scan me, fine. But in the meantime, let's live as if it's really gone. Please." His brown eyes bore into hers, and she knew he needed her to be as positive about this outcome as anyone.

"I will. I promise," she said, and she meant it.

"Let's get you checked out and go home." He suggested, getting up and pulling her by the arm.

And as they moved through the known procedures in the infirmary, in debriefing, in going home, Sam was suddenly glad for these simple processes, for the ease in which they fell back into them. Because even though the enemy was at their door and they had no idea how to defeat them, she was familiar with the process of fighting. She knew not to give up, not to give in, to serve and protect Earth at whatever cost. Even though she had lived 8 years loving a man she could never have, and then when she finally had him he almost died; it was ok, because she was familiar with the process of waiting and hoping. And now, because of Jack, she was familiar with the process of living. He breathed life into her, taught her to love, showed her what companionship really meant; that even though they had barely spent time together, he offered her a shared life, an open partnership.

And since they had come this far, and had overcome this much, Sam felt strangely confident that they would make it through the threat of the Ori; that her and Jack would have a future, that they would live 'till his knees gave out, and maybe 'till her knees gave out too. She thought through that picture in her mind – her and Jack, old and gray, sitting together at the cabin, hand in hand. And she smiled.

THE END

The next chapter is a brief epilogue which will be posted tomorrow.

Author's Note: I know that this story is a sensitive topic for many. Almost all of us have experienced the devastating effects of cancer, either personally or to someone we love. Although in our own cancer stories there may not be a happy ending, this story reflects the happy ending I believe we all deserve. It was inspired by a dear family friend, whose age would match what I think Jack would be at the time of this story. She was diagnosed suddenly with stage 4 Hodgkin's Lymphoma after going in to the hospital for severe back pain. She was prescribed 6 sessions of chemotherapy, and wore a sock-like cloth over her cannula in her arm, just like Jack. She lost her hair and had nasty side effects from the treatments, just like Jack. She survived, just like Jack. In addition, upon researching this wretched disease, I found that 85% of persons do recover after treatment, and go on to live healthy, full lives, for sometimes 40 to 50 years after diagnosis. Remember to offer support to the cancer fighters in your life. As always, thank you for reading.