A Promise of Home
This Quantum Leap™ story utilizes characters that are copyright © by Bellasarius Productions and Universal Studios. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan fiction story is written solely for the entertainment of the readers and is not for profit. All fiction, plots, and original characters are the sole creations of the author.
A Promise of Home
The doctors conferring outside Al's room shook their heads. They didn't know how he managed to survive. They had little experience in treating someone beaten the way Al was. It was becoming painfully obvious to Beth, her parents, the doctors and nurses, and Sam that the only way Lieutenant Calavicci would survive is if he chose to. It was in Al's and God's hands now.
Beth took her parents home late in the afternoon. She would return in the evening to spend the night at her husband's side. In the mean time, Sam waited with his young friend. Comforted by the slow, but steady rise and fall of his chest, he watched the lieutenant sleep. After the morning's hemorrhage, it was decided that his stomach couldn't tolerate sufficient amounts of food to help him gain weight, so an hour of minor surgery implanted an IV shunt near his right collar bone. Through it, nourishment pumped into his system. Sam had to concentrate in order to see the person under all the wires and monitors. It was a science fiction scene from some medical horror story. Even knowing Al made it through this trauma only slightly diminished the anguish of the moment.
Many leaps earlier, Sam leaped into Al and had inhabited a younger version of the body that now lay before him. It was fit, strong and quite good-looking. This apparition was a distance from the Bingo Sam lived with. Three hours later, Sam saw Bingo's eyes blink a little and start to open. The room was filled with soft light and Sam moved, making a bit of noise, hoping not to alarm the frightened pilot. Making sure Al had seen him first, he smiled and began speaking. "Hi there. You had a pretty long snooze. Feeling any better?"
His throat was raw from the morning's hemorrhage. "Who are you?"
"I'm Jane O'Neill, Beth's best friend. I'm a nurse. Do you remember where you are?"
Bingo had to think a moment. "I'm back in the states."
"That's right. Beth and your in-laws are having dinner and getting some rest. I'm going to stay with you until they come back."
"Please keep talking. If this is a dream, I want it to go on."
He put his hand against Al's fevered face and gently brushed back his hair. "No dream, Al. This is real. You're home with Beth, your family, and with me." A smile put a spark of life in Al's eyes and Sam knew his friend was finally starting to come home. "Hey, you look good with a grin. You need to do that more often." That only made Bingo's smile grow bigger. Sam tried to think like Janie and said, "Beth was right. You are a good-looking kid."
Al knew a line when he heard it, but he tried his best to wink and told Janie, "Thanks for the lie."
The Admiral woke up after five hours having again sweated through his silk pajamas. Even the sheets on his bed were damp with perspiration. The drenching night sweats were a regular part of his life now. He didn't feel that much more rested after this sleep and cursed his disease as he dragged himself to the shower.
When he drew in a deep breath, it shuddered rather than filled his lungs. More reason to be afraid, just what he needed. Out loud he begged God, "If You're really watching over me, get me through this and I'll never ask You for another favor again."
His mood was dark and he took similar clothes from his closet, Black slacks and black shirt. Recalling how much colder the Imaging Chamber felt to him, he pulled a jacket out too, a red and black one he always liked. The effort of dressing forced him to stop and catch his breath. None of this was supposed to be hard and his frustration level was rapidly disintegrating.
All the different scenarios bolted through his mind like stabs of summer lightning. How was he supposed to make a decision without GodTimeFateWhatever guiding him and Ziggy? There weren't any statistics to help him here. This leaping about in time may have righted wrongs for some, but it only seemed to muck up his life.
It was the damn leaping that got him into his current mess. In an earlier leap, Sam's brother was going to die. Al had to choose between giving up his freedom and remaining MIA for five more years or letting Tom Beckett die. The decision to save Tom seemed right at the time. He knew he'd get out of Vietnam alive, but he hadn't remembered all the ramifications until he returned to his own time. The five years of torture following Tom's salvation took more than skin. Each day in captivity picked at his soul leaving him more and more void of humanity. Beth deserved a better man than he had become. That leap was long past though and he couldn't change it.
Still feeling more tired than he should, Al plodded back toward the Control Room. It was late morning. The digital display at the elevator proclaimed in ugly green light that it was 9:37. The whole contingent of Project staff would be hanging around and watching each move, waiting to see him stumble, Focusing his strength and energy was more important than ever. Before he put his hand on the entry panel, he drew his shoulders up and back, and raised his chin. He might be sick, but he wasn't defeated.
His steps were long, strong and completely faked, but he managed to impress Gooshie and the other technicians standing about. "Where's Sam?"
Gooshie checked the console, "He's with you in the hospital."
"Is Beth there?"
"No, just Sam."
The handlink sat in its charger. Al grabbed it and marched toward the Imaging Chamber. "Okay, center me on Sam." The sliding door closed behind him and he readied himself for the dizzying trip to Sam. When the room stopped spinning, he saw Sam sitting next to Bingo. The lieutenant was asleep again.
Looking up at the ghostly pale Admiral Sam said, "I didn't think you'd be back."
Al didn't have anything to say. He just wanted this leap to end. The devastation of this leap, of his diagnosis, and the pain of both brought the Admiral to a point where dying felt like a step up. Finally he mumbled, "How is he?"
Sam rubbed his tired eyes. "Trying to decide whether or not he should live or die."
"Aren't we all?"
He was still not ready to consider Al's plan. "If you're here to tell me to kill you or to try and convince Bingo here that he should die, then do yourself a favor. Go back to bed. You're not looking so good."
"Please, Sam. Don't start arguing with me. We have to figure this out." His pleading voice said, "I need help."
Al admitted to needing help and Sam was more than willing to try. "Okay, ask Ziggy again why I'm here. I still haven't heard any stats from her."
"I got the stats and they make no sense."
Some news wasn't entirely news. "That's happened before. What's she saying?"
"That I'm in total control of how this leap goes.
The power of that statement really hit Sam. "Talk about responsibility."
A longtime wish had been to die simply and without drama. The complexities overwhelmed him. "I don't want the responsibility. I just want to die in peace."
"Everyone does, Al."
"Yeah, everyone does. See, you agree with me."
Sam tried to figure out Al's logic. With his brain being ravaged by a cancerous tumor, what he said couldn't be trusted. "The only thing I agree with is that dying peacefully is a good thing. I still don't think that dying in this time line makes any sense at all."
"I'm not here to argue with you."
The lieutenant stirred a bit and Sam arranged the sheet covering his patient. Without looking up at Al, he asked, "Then what did you come back for?"
The fatigue inside him brought his chin to his chest. Mostly, the Admiral just wanted to be near his friend as much as possible before cancer killed him, but he told Sam, "I haven't the foggiest notion." Dizziness whirred through his head. "Damn it, Sam, I think I'm going to die real soon and you won't get home. I let you down. I let down everyone who ever cared for me."
There was no veracity in that statement, but Al wasn't going to be convinced of that. Rather than feed the illusion or begin a debate, Sam gently offered, "Go on back to your room. You're tired. Since you're controlling the leap, I'll be here until you decide what to do." The hologram didn't move. "Al, there's only one thing to consider here, what Bingo wants, not what you want."
"What I want has never seemed to matter." He needed something to do so he played with the handlink, listening to it whistle and blip. There was no new information so he deposited the multi-colored box in his pocket. He and Sam sat together gazing at Bingo for several minutes without a word exchanged between them.
The door opened and Beth slowly came in, her eyes red from the tears. "Hi, Janie." She immediately went to Bingo, looked down at him and ran her fingers through his hair. "Has he been sleeping well?"
"He woke up a few times and we talked."
"Is he still seeing invisible men?"
"Don't think so." He looked at the Admiral, smiling, "But I am." The awkward look on his friend's face did not hearten him at all. Beth sat on the other side of Al's bed. Sam saw a magnificent exhaustion in her eyes. "How are you doing?"
"It's amazing how much I can cry when my mom is around," She smiled, a bit embarrassed, but profoundly happy Ellen and Stuart were there. "I guess you never do stop being a little girl in some ways."
"Parents come in real handy like that." His next comment was directed more toward the Admiral than Beth. "I bet you and Al are going to be a great parents."
Caressing the scarred and scared vet, she admitted her own fear, one that hadn't occurred to Sam, "With all the abuse, he might not be able to have children. Malnutrition can do that."
The idea of impotence shook the Admiral and he started punching at the handlink. "Ziggy says I'll be able to have kids, 86 percent chance."
"You never can tell, Beth. There's too much you can't know yet."
The Admiral whispered to Sam, "Ask her what she wants, Sam."
Beth couldn't have heard him, but she answered before Sam asked. "All I want is for him to be healthy enough to come home with me. It would be nice if he walked again. I'd like him to gain enough weight so that he'd be healthy. That's enough."
The simplicity of the desires surprised Sam. "I have a feeling he's going to be able to do a lot more than that."
"Well, if he could hold me in his arms again, that would be great and if we could have just one dance more, that would be enough." Her fingers gently touched small round marks on his neck. "I wonder what happened here."
Al looked at the marks, "Cigarettes. They kept putting them out on my neck." He moved closer to Beth and told Sam, "There are a lot more of those on my back and chest."
The twist in his gut almost had Sam retching. "Oh God." Beth looked over and he was caught. "I don't know, but they look like cigarette burns to me."
"Do you really think so?" When Sam nodded, Beth lowered her head to the small scars and kissed each one. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry you had to go through all that and go through it alone." The stillness of her sweet husband brought tears to her. "I want him home with me. I've waited so long. Why am I'm impatient now?"
Holding Beth's hand Sam told her, "Because you know exactly where he is and you know for certain that he's alive."
"I tried hard to believe he wasn't dead, but it was a daily battle. If it hadn't been for that one night in 1969, I would have given up completely." Sam and Al exchanged glances. Each knew what had happened, but never heard Beth's reaction. "It was the weirdest thing, Janie. I'm not really one of the cosmic types, but I swear to you, Al came to me and we danced."
The already shaky Admiral shook his muddled head, "She can't know that. It's impossible."
"I put Georgia on the record player and," a blush colored her face, "This is going to sound stupid, but I started to dance, pretending that Al was holding me. Then I really felt him there, taking me in his arms. I even felt him kiss me on my forehead." She touched the spot where the hologram blessed her with a mystical kiss five years earlier.
Sam sat quietly, "What a wonderful moment."
"It was the strangest evening in my life. Later on, I had a vision." She laughed at the statement. "A vision, can you believe it? Actually, I saw this man in the bungalow. He was nice looking, very kind eyes and he told me Al was alive and that I should wait for him. I tell you, Janie, between the dance, the kiss and the messenger from wherever, that's when I knew Al was alive and I'd have him home with me again. And when I began to doubt again, I'd think about that night and know it was just a matter of time. I didn't know it would be eight years, but I knew he'd come home to me."
His bride's story stunned the Admiral. He never imagined Beth felt his ghost dance. He walked toward his beloved soul mate wanting nothing more than to hold her, to let her know that that one impossible dance made his life worth living again. "Beth, I love you. I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like this."
The nurse turned to her sleeping husband, "You could never hurt me. I just want you to be well so that we can have a life together. I want you home."
Sam tried to figure out what was happening, but it was beyond his genius mind. Somehow, Al and Beth were communicating through a portal that had little to do with quantum mechanics. Awe took his breath away.
The Admiral beseeched, "But if I come home, I'll only make your life sad. I can't do that to you. It's better for me to die now so you can go on."
"Al, if you die, then I die. Don't you know that by now? I can never love anyone the way I love you. I wouldn't even try. Please, get well. Don't you remember our vows? We said we'd be together in sickness and in health till death do us part. I just want what we promised each other."
The Observer's breaking heart implored, "Even if it hurts you?"
"Nothing could hurt any more than these last eight years." A silent tear drifted down her cheek. "Please come home to me like you promised."
The Admiral leaned over and again graced his wife's forehead with the most tender of kisses. She looked up as if heaven had touched her again. Her care and devotion baffled him. "My beautiful Beth, why do you love me?" He truly did not understand.
She stared directly into his face, into eyes she could not see. "My world revolves around you and it always will."
The Admiral started walking away from his wife, "I don't get it."
The Lieutenant began to stir. A smile from Beth lit a fire in his heart. "Beth, don't be a dream."
Her head lay tenderly on his chest, "You're home and we'll never be apart again. I promise you."
The battered pilot reached out to his bride and brought her hand to his face. "I missed you so bad." His parched, cracked lips kissed her fingers. "Help me, please. Help me."
"Oh, Al." She put her mouth on his and kissed him with all the passion her soul held.
Sam watched the Admiral as he witnessed this most peculiar reunion. To the core of his soul, the leaper sensed Al's raw emotional pain. How and why were mysteries too impenetrable to comprehend, but they didn't matter.
But the misery the Admiral felt was more than emotional. Agony pounded into his brain. "Shit, Sam, God, my head." The pain curled him into a ball. There was no hiding the intensity of the knife stabbing into his brain. "God, please!"
The Observer's body slumped, falling into the bed holding his former self. Sam yelled, "Al!"
Then they merged. Two incarnations of Al Calavicci fused. Both screamed out intense anguish. Both clutched at their heads and wildly tried to shake out the torment splitting their brains. In tandem, Sam heard them yell, "No!" Two bodies curled into cocoons trying to fight off the specter of death coming for them.
Beth grabbed her returning hero unaware that the Admiral had incorporated into his presence. Her arms held both men and she pleaded, "Don't leave me! Don't leave me again!" The exclamation turned into a pathetic appeal, "Don't, please don't. I need you with me. I love you." In her embrace, both bodies collapsed and lay deathly still.
The beautiful nurse turned to her best friend, "Janie? Oh, God, no!" Beth started crying. Sam reached out, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing at all and his helplessness was compounded when, despite his pleading to GodTimeFateWhatever, the blue leap light encompassed him and he left San Diego, Jane O'Neill, Beth, Al and any hope for a future with Admiral Calavicci.
Sam Beckett never knew how long it was between leaps. Al once told him that it was only a day or two sometimes, but then it could be up to three weeks. This time was like the others, not a clue as to how long he'd been in stasis. The awkward opening moments of every leap were his least favorite time. However, this leap looked like it might be fun. He found himself on a children's swing set, kicking his feet straight out in front of him. Next to him was a boy about eight and behind both of them was a woman who alternately gave a little push to each child. It was a freeing kind of fun and Sam welcomed it. The last leap had been hard though he didn't know why. He didn't remember exactly what happened except that it concerned Al. Deep concentration on his uneasy feelings and the last leap finally brought back a memory that made his blood run cold. The sound of Al's last cry sounded in his mind.
His worst fears were born out when he spied the Imaging Chamber door open and a very young woman stepped out holding the handlink. Something told him Al got his wish, allowing death to free him from his pain and thereby keeping him from any happiness. Sam jumped off the swing, landing in the gravel. The lady behind him scolded, "Tony, I told you not to do that. You'll hurt yourself."
The person holding the handlink said, "That's your mother. You're Tony Gallo. You're six years old and the other boy is your big brother Joey, but not the Mafia Joey Gallo guy, thank God."
Sam looked at Tony's mom and said, "Sorry. I won't do it again." Off on the other side of the park was a small slide. "Mom, I'm going to the slide, okay?"
"Okay, but stay in sight and come back when I call you."
"Yes, ma'am." Sam signaled to the hologram to follow him.
The young girl with the handlink was very pretty, small boned, slender, long curly brown hair and huge brown eyes that had a touch of mischief in them. She eyeballed Sam and said, "It's 1982 and you're in Baltimore, Maryland. You're a cute kid, but then you're Italian. You're bound to be cute!" A little wink followed her jest.
This person was his new link to the project, but for the life of him, he didn't know her from Adam - or Eve for that matter. The best thing to do was simply come out and ask, "Do I know you?"
"Gooshie said this might happen. You don't remember me, do you?"
Sam never had to work hard at looking sheepish. It came so naturally that Al teased him about all the time. "I'm sorry, but I don't. I have to ask you something that may make even less sense."
There was something sweet, yet slightly conniving in her smile. "Go ahead."
"What happened to the guy in my last leap?"
The new Observer raised an eyebrow and said, "The guy?" It only took a flash of a second for her to realize who Sam was talking about. "Oh, I know. You mean my father."
Sam's jaw dropped and he stared at this girl. "Oh boy, you look just like him."
With a bit of a blush, but with a secret pride she said, "Yeah, people say that a lot."
Before he could get too enthused Sam had to ask, "What's your name?"
"Allie. Allegra really, but no one calls me that except Dad."
He needed to make sure they were talking about the same person. "Your father is Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci."
"Close." Allie beamed. He's Vice Admiral Calavicci, now!"
Sam laughed at the new rank, "Vice? Your father is a Vice Admiral?"
"Yeah, pretty funny, isn't it. We had a fine time teasing him when that one came down."
Sam's concern returned. He said a short prayer before asking, "Why isn't he here? Is he okay?"
A deep sigh and a sad face told Sam something was wrong. "He's doing better. He and Mom are in Albuquerque. It's a chemo day."
The last leap came back into his memory. That's what was wrong with his friend. Recalling it broke his heart and even though he didn't want to hear bad news, he asked, "What's the prognosis?"
"Everyone says it looks good. They found the tumor when it was really, really small. If Mom wasn't a nurse, I don't think anyone would have noticed a problem, but she saw it right away and made him go to the doctor." She shot Sam a duplicate of Al's sideways smile, "and you know how much he loves doctors!"
She was right on that count. Al had no use for doctors. Sam, knowing enough about cancer and chemotherapy, sympathized, "Chemo can be rough."
"He's more concerned about being bald than saluting the porcelain god for days on end."
Sam laughed out loud at this young, female duplicate of his friend. She was definitely Al's kid and probably hell on wheels. There was only one thing that bothered him. "Allie, I'm sure you're a bright kid, but why did you get chosen to be Observer? You're a little young."
"I'm 17," she protested and then had to add, "almost. Truth is I'm the best match. My neurons and mesons match up almost identically to Dad's."
"It's a lot to ask of you."
"Yeah, but this isn't going to be a hard leap and it will make one hell of a science fair report. Ziggy, Gooshie and Mom think I can handle this one. If it gets too hard, then we'll pull the power we need to get Gooshie here. Dad said he would do what he could if things got scary, but you might get too freaked out by a bald Calavicci."
Sam laughed again and before getting down to business said, "Tell your father that if he doesn't do everything he's supposed to do in order to get well, I will personally come back and kick his Vice Admiral butt."
The cancer center was as friendly a place as it could be, given its reason for existence. Al and Beth listened to music together in a treatment room. Beth curled up next to her very sick husband in the huge overstuffed recliner that was actually meant for one. They rested in each other's arms with a naturalness and serenity that belied the fearsome, angry battle the Admiral was fighting. An IV dripping highly powerful, toxic medications into his body was attached to a shunt near his right collar bone, the same place he had been shunted over 25 years earlier when he returned from Vietnam.
After a few minutes in the softly lit room, Al leaned into Beth and whispered with just the slightest concern, "We'll win this one too, won't we?"
She nestled closer, deeper into his body. There was only one answer and it was the truth. "No doubt, Al, no doubt."
The End