Extra lyty

The Trip

Part 2

Journal Entry

Canada. The Great White North. Temperature minus twenty celsius. Crew arrived with Orbs intact. Start assembling tomorrow. It seems everyone needs me doing something everywhere, all at once. Al tries to keep me from spreading myself too thin.

Al calls the orbs "spaceballs". My smart ass lover.

Journal Entry, temperature minus twenty celsius. No hitches-yet-assembling elements and building from scratch orbital launch pad. Canada has never had an orbital launch before. We will be the first. Al's degree in engineering is a help, but I find myself put in the position of making most of the decisions. If it wasn't for the Canadian government providing the heavy equipment and men skilled in construction we would be in trouble. This project would be an impossibility without their help.

Al spoke of Amber, when she was young and wanted nothing more than to help. There was a school massacre, Newtown, Connecticut. Twenty-seven children and adults killed. "You know, that kid . . . " Al still choked up thinking about her, but at least he was talking about our daughter again, that would lead to healing. "She got all the kids at school organized-you remember that?"

I remembered; how could I not? Kissing him softly, I rested one arm across his chest and stayed silent. It felt so good to hear him talk again, saying more than one word at a time.

"Sam, she organized her entire school to take up a collection of toys for the kids that survived. For Christmas, she said. Gave her own presents to those kids, didn't want anything for herself." His voice was full of tears but he wasn't weeping or out of control. "What an amazing person she was! And she was ours, Sam."

The most wonder filled moment - Al accepting my hug, but embracing me with fulfillment - offering me comfort. Our hotel bed was adequate that night. We held each other all night - and Al slept and gave me the consolation I had yearned for. But . . . he was still fragile. And I was so tired. Every moment I caught a handful of sleep was a relief. I was getting too old for fourteen to sixteen hour days.

Journal Entry, temperature minus twenty five and holding. Supports up for launch. Two months to go, and counting.

Another month. Construction fell behind on the pad site. Orbs were assembled, we were ready to go. All of us had been well-aware that it was crucial to launch the Orbs in Canada where they would be easily propelled where they would do the most good. The inactivity was making me crazy. Al suggested we all go out to a local place, a little fun, a decent evening of debauche. Even the thought of having some sort of recreational time filled me with dread. I needed to work, had to work. It kept my mind busy, helped me to avoid seeing the tired lines on my Admiral's face, or help to forget that, well, Greg, he just wasn't here.

You see, we had a commitment, he and I. Through good and bad. For the better part of a year he had been running as far and as fast away as he could. We had been in Canada for the better part of six months and he had contacted me twice. When I asked when he was joining us he didn't know. I think he was enjoying the job he was doing. Whatever that was.

He'd promised. Al was gracious with his time and interest but still tired, still sorrowing. What Greg was doing was important but my selfish little mind wanted him here before I totally burned myself out. That candle named Beckett was at half-wick and no amount of sleep was going to make up for the energy I was venting. We needed him, Earthsafe needed him. Every time someone came to me for a specific job Greg was skilled at, I felt another coin falling on my anger pile.

We'd sent him messages, requesting his return. Either he was ignoring them, or he wasn't able to get them. The opportunity for one evening with the team, a little frivolity, a little letting go. We'd all been working past our capacity.

Well, we got pretty loaded. Guess we had no idea how bad we all needed a night to cut loose. Never do I have one too many, but that night I did. Shots, several. Beer. Neil's watchful gaze on me, Al telling me to "take it easy, Sweetheart."

Something about the way he said the words, something touched some source of fury deep inside me. It had been a long year since Amber had left this world and in all that time . . . I had to be the strong one, the one in control. Something dark in me sat at that bar, not Sam Beckett but this black thing that made me cut the innocence from myself, that made me strong and wild at the same time. For no reason at all I glared and directed that fury at Al. Another shot, another glare at my partner, who looked confused, a little hurt.

"Saaam, you need to take it easy, pard."

I didn't respond. Mother sat next to me and I took his shot and dropped it back. They were no longer burning my throat as they went down. That in itself should have been a warning to me. I have never been a very good drinker.

Then, well, Al made a mistake. One warm hand massaged my shoulder, a loving touch. It was exactly the one thing that would set me off. All that pent up grief and anger came out in a not so typical way.

Pushed myself up from the bar. I remember that. Gave Al some kind of look; from the expression on his face it hurt him, it made him upset. Unsteady as hell, I pushed past him and out the door to the parking lot. If anyone followed I wasn't aware of it. All I can recall was I wanted to get away from all of them, especially Al. Headed for the rental car we had, got in, pushing the keys into the ignition. Started the car. Neil dropping into the passenger seat and forcing my hand away from the keys, turning off the engine. So, with that option gone, I got out of the car. Barely could close the door. Al standing there, trying to stop me with his hands, centering me with concerned gaze, holding my arms tight. "Sam!" The sharp tone of voice did not help me to center or sober up.

A little voice inside was telling me to let Al take me back to the hotel, to go to bed, drink some coffee to sober up. Anything. I had no words, didn't know what to say, was just angry. It was not me, Al. I swear.

Twisting out of his grasp, I saw him fall to the asphalt. Another moment and I was running, running as hard and as fast as I possibly could. Breathing hard, pushing myself past endurance in a strange land, not a place I knew. Wanted to get away.

At full tilt my foot caught in something. A tree root perhaps, or another obstacle. Whatever it was, I fell hard, slamming into the ground face first. I tasted blood and when I tried to push myself up, found I could not. Neil was holding me, encouraging, concerned.

"Leave me alone," I whispered. "Why can't you leave me alone? Why?"

"Dr. B . . ."

Struggling against his grip, something warm running down my face, fighting and with some crazy strength pulling away from my guard and staggering off again. Neil tackled me, easing me back down to the ground.

"Stop," he said with great calm. "Take it easy, Sam."

Then I felt the anger and grief and hate just bleed off me, and I wept. Al was there, then, the confused expression on his face seemingly upsetting me more. I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand and sat in the dirt and got myself under control.

Kneeling next to me, next to Neil, Al pressed his hand against my face. His eyes, those dark, dark eyes, were bright but he was not weeping. "I know," he murmured. His voice was rough, full of so much hurt. "Let me take you home, lover."

Lover. Why did that word infuriate me? The fury burst in me again, fresh, terrible. Jerking from Al's touch, his ever so loving touch, I practically snarled in his face. Even Neil stepped back, and Al . . .

Al:

What in the world had gotten into the kid? Almost an animal, a whipped dog. I knelt next to him. It was tough not to touch him, to offer some sort of comfort. What had I done? Or not done? Sam didn't drink, not even an occasional glass of wine, nothing. My alarms should've gone off the minute he sucked down that second shot, stopped him firmly, taken him into the can and ask why he was dumping scotch on a wound, and what had caused the wound?

He would not look at me. Neil was backing off, maybe thinking I could do something. Blood was seeping from several places on his face; forehead, cheek. Maybe I needed to be firm, not loving. I wasn't sure. This person in front of me was not a Sam I knew and damned if I wasn't terrified something was really wrong with him.

Yeah, a crowd of our own people were looking on, concerned. Mother was the brave one. He stepped forward, at first cautious, then resolute. "Dr. B?" he said. Sam's head lifted, his expression anguished, and a little bewildered. "Let's go back to the hotel, ok? C'mon? We'll play some Wi." His right hand reached and touched Sam's shoulder. "Or watch a movie, something. Ok, Sam?"

A moment, a second, a fraction of that. I know I was holding my breath.

Allowing Mother to support him, Sam was drawn to his feet. Silently we all followed them back to the bar, got in cars, went back to the hotel. Mother's arm was around Sam's shoulders, supportive, careful. Careful, that was the best way to describe my friends face. Mother, the big teddy bear of our team, was the one that could manage to get our leader to settle down, even in the most dire of circumstances.

Caught a ride with one of the team, got back to the hotel and settled in our room. The last thing on my mind is 'settling in'. I paced, like a tiger in that cage in 'Nam. Pretty sure I wore a groove in that floor and then some. Oh yeah, and I had a good Cuban clamped between my teeth and not even caring if Sam found out.

Then someone knocked on the door. I was pretty stunned to see Mother and Sam standing there. Beckett had his had thrown back, defensive, a little on the cocky side. Mother looked sincere as always and apologetic in some way. "He wanted Al," he said softly. "So I brought him to you."

O..kay. Sam strode in and Mother tipped his hand in a little salute and left. Like good luck, pal, you'll need it.

Before I could get over my shock, Sam was in the bathroom and very quiet for about ten minutes. When he came out he was shirtless, towel tossed around his neck, mouth downturned and a lot calmer than he had about an hour ago. Figured I'd better keep my mouth shut and let Sam talk, if he wanted to. He looked almost cold sober, considering how much he'd drank in a very short time.

I broke the silence. "Puke?"

He rolled his eyes and reddened a little. "Made a pretty big fool of myself, didn't I?"

Only among Earthsafe family, I thought. We had hired the bar for the night; security insisted on it. No strangers asking any odd questions, what a great idea that was. I took another draw of my cigar and waited. Just waited.

"I wouldn't blame you if you're mad at me." He buried his face in his hands. "Oh, Al. I'm sorry." His voice took on that endearing quality, where it went into a slightly higher octave, only when he was utterly humiliated.

"Nothing like a little liquor to loosen up the emotions, eh, kid?"

He almost shivered. "What the hell was that, Sam?"

"Me. Losing control."

"I'm here, " I said quietly. "The team is here. We're home, Al." Wrapping my arms around him I pressed my face against his forehead, praying he could feel me. I kissed his cold skin. The doctor in me said calmly he had lost too much blood, the wound was severe. Twenty-five years of my life to end at this moment and time? Almost half of the time I spent on this earth. The worst part was I must not let myself follow him. I had obligations, to this planet, to my family.

I realized the grasp I had on his hand was one-sided. His eyes were dark, still staring at something that wasn't there. Pressing my hand gently over his lips I could not feel his breath, nor the heartbeat that had vibrated on the warm skin. Another moment, I realized his blood was soaking into my jeans and the seat under me. Or was it mine?

It didn't matter. Al was dead. "Ziggy," I asked. My voice did not betray the darkness that fell over my heart and soul. "Time?"

"Nine forty-eight p.m. eastern standard time, Father. "The Admiral - he is . . . gone."

"Yes," I said. I touched my fingers to Al's eyes and closed them softly. It would take some to release his hand. There was no danger of him feeling pain anymore, or that his condition would worsen if I moved him. Wrapping both arms around his body I held him and closed my eyes,

He would no longer have to grieve, or live on this petty earth. All he'd seen, all his experience was in my head and I had that to last for the rest of my life.

"Neil?" It was a surprise I could say anything, My hands petted through Al's hair, the only part that felt living, wet with rain, the scent of his shampoo, masculine, warm. "Just get us home, please." I knew the team was out there, perhaps Greg. "Ziggy is sending word and I don't want to be . . . crowded . . . now."

He glanced back at me, looked at Al. I had his face turned towards me, away from anyone that could see in the windows. We had them tinted for a reason. Privacy. More than anything I wanted that now. Al and I, Neil. "You understand?"

"On our way, Sam." He gave me a small smile and in one moment he frowned. "Are you okay?" He moved to reach for me. "Something is wrong."

What did I look like? I had no mirror to tell me, my heart was beating and I felt dull and numb physically. "If there is something can we please deal with it at home? There's no need for the medical team, Neil. I promise you."

His eyes went from me, to Al, and turned in the seat. I jumped just a little when he slammed his fist against the steering wheel.

"Don't blame yourself," I said. I sounded braver than I felt. "Just get us home."

We pulled past the team. It seemed that Ziggy had alerted them and they were moving to follow us. I would answer their questions later, if I could. I pressed my hand against Al's hair and concentrated only on this moment and the next. One at a time, one moment, one minute, one day.

Greg:

The word came to us after most of the team and security had gone to bed. Of course, I was up, pacing. Someone had sent some of the squad out to meet them halfway, if possible. I wasn't sure if Sam and Al really wanted to see me until we were all home. My mind was full of questions; what did Al want to tell me? It sounded pretty urgent. I also sensed he was still furious that I had left and had not 'gotten over it'. As for Sam, well, I hardly knew what he felt at all. I had not heard a word from him since the letter I had sent over a year ago. Nothing bad, nothing good. It felt a lot like 'over'. Just a formal letter Earthsafe sent once a year advising I was still a part of the organization and that, as always, they were receptive to any info I could offer that would benefit the project. That was it.

It was my own fault, and, obviously, Sam was letting out the line on a fish and allowing me to go as far as I wished. Al, on the other hand, had made it very clear he had set limits and wanted me home by a specific time. I was very surprised that he hadn't actually carried through on his threat to send someone after me. Had Sam intervened or was I just lucky?

We got the news about ten p.m. that Al had been killed. Actually, the security we had tore out of here in various states of undress, running out to the vehicles and down the drive. The noise of all that horsepower rose over the terrible storm we were having. It was unending rain, thunder, lightning, very high wind. That was my one and only notice something was wrong. I was aware that there were threats but of what nature I had not heard. Beeks had been friendly, but not forthcoming. Her trip to Canada and the launch had made her a very strong believer in our organization and she still was very upset I had been gone for so long. If she knew about the new person in my life she had not mentioned it.

The alarm rang throughout the Farm and every computer in the house was activated. The rooms were full of techs, Mother was doing damage control in Al's office. At about the moment the gale whistled against the windows of the house, what seemed the height of the storm, every activity stopped. Silence, except for the wind and hail hitting the roof.

It was Mother. The infernal chatterer, a person I had never seen unhappy. I stood in the doorway of the office, Al's office. The others joined me, staring in shock. Mother was silently weeping, wiping his arm across his eyes. "Sam just had Ziggy tell us . . ." That big sad-eyed face lifted. "Al's dead. He's dead."

Our life without the Admiral. I could barely believe it. Not to mention something happening along that quiet country road I'd travelled many times with Sam, bicycling, running. "Ziggy!", I snapped.

"Yes, Dr. Matthews."

"ETA on Neil and Dr. Beckett."

"And Admiral Calavicci."

"And . . . the admiral."

"Fifteen to twenty minutes-they did not stop at the rendezvous. Dr. Beckett advised me he felt it prudent to continue directly to the Farm. The security team is securing the crime scene and Indiana State Police are already there."

"Is Sam okay?"

Beeks came in the front door as I spoke. Her face was a mask of grief. She quietly sat at the kitchen table.

"No information, Dr. Matthews. Dr. Beeks . . "

"Yes, Ziggy." Verbena folded her hands quietly in front of her.

"Father wants you to meet him with the med team and Dr. Fricke."

"I'll let Jamie know, Zig. Tell Sam we love him."

"I will let him know, Verbena." It always astonished me how much emotion Ziggy's voice carried; a living soul, part Sam and part Al and part Earthsafe, Project Quantum Leap.

"Dr Fricke?"

"Jamie." There was just the slightest edge in her voice. "She is the new medical director, Sam's PCP." Tears were standing in her eyes, spilling over and down her cheeks. "You think time stood still?"

"Obviously not," I said softly. My mouth went dry as the full impact of what had happened hit me.

"I had no right to stay away as long as I did."

"You better prepare for a lot of changes, pal." Her voice was shaking, her hands clenched now. "You missed more than a year. You missed a lifetime. Sam has changed. Now the world has changed. In case you haven't heard Sam and Al and Earthsafe saved the world." She hugged herself and glanced at the window as headlights appeared in the heavy rain. "I'm sorry, Greg. They're here."

Neil:

Many things in my life have been terrible. The last twenty miles, driving home in a storm with Dr. Beckett holding his Admiral close, with no tears, just sending orders to Ziggy, making sure all was well with his people. Every time I glanced back at them in the rearview mirror, no matter if Sam was giving orders calmly, or speaking softly to Ziggy, he was hold Al very close to him. I had less of a right to grieve now. Al had entrusted his treasure to me and I had kept my word. Sam was alive, but Al . . .

Okay, hold it together, Adamson. No blaming yourself for this. You need to keep Sam safe, as safe as he was with Al. This is a lifetime commitment now. A blood vow, made in the midnight hour to the Admiral.

The greenish eyes met mine in the mirror. "Have you ever had a person that loved you so much that he would give up anything or . . ." His head tilted back for a moment. "Anyone, because of that love?"

I didn't know what to say. "I suppose I have, " I replied.

"Al gave up his freedom for my personal happiness." He blinked a couple of times, but his eyes remained dry. For only a moment I saw his expression; tender, he was remembering. "He gave me his all. You know, laying down his life. Like tonight. You have to understand that Al did this for me. I would do the same for him. I would, yes, literally die for him, Neil. I would do whatever it took to make him feel half the joy he's given me."

My hands gripped the steering wheel a trifle harder.

"This thing has taken away my ability to protect him. I can't make him better, not now." His tone was bitter, fiercely angry with himself somehow. "I'm a doctor. I can't . . . fix this."

Sam:

It was as if my world had shrunk to a pin size black dot. It expanded into the worst possible pain I had ever felt. The strange thing was I was able to control it, able to actually think sanely and not succumb to the screams that ripped inside of me. "He fought," I said firmly, quietly. "He was a fighter. You did all you could, Neil." Then I knew I was crying but I was not about to fall apart. The only thing to keep me sane was what I had been doing; taking charge. "Please tell me we're almost home."

I felt the little hill before the long drive and knew we were finally safe. When Verbena opened my door and I saw Jamie's warm smile I allowed the team to take Al away. A final touch, my fingers brushing his lips and they eased his body from my arms. I had to deal with this. Now I was in charge.

The initial shock was wearing off, quickly. My head and my left leg hurt like hell. It seemed everyone wanted to help me out of the Hybrid, steadying hands, Neil tall and protective and not more than a step away from me as I was led into the house.

Then, like in most dreams, I had to wake up. The faces around me were bleak, sad, grief-stricken. They rested me on the couch and Jamie made me lie back and got that look on her face.

Someone had taken the bluetooth off my ear and I was no longer linked to Ziggy by that device. "Ziggy," I said, grunting as Beeks and Jamie eased off my coat and shirt. Jamie was running her hands through my hair and saying something about a kit and stitches.

"No, Ziggy." Beeks just pressed me back. "You've had enough Ziggy for one night. I'll call Brian and Kate."

"It's my job," I stated. My doctor was grabbing a large bag of tricks and the last thing I wanted was to be sedated. "No dope," I snapped. "The police will be here, the FBI. They need sane statements. I need my cell. Where's Mother?"

"Here, Dr. B." He raised his hand as if in school. His hair was more wild than ever and tears had marked their course on his cheeks. Trying to smile, he knelt next to me. "I called Bri, Dr. B. I even called your sister."

I felt so much gratitude. Mother had come a long way in the past year, taken on many responsibilities from both Al and I so we could have more time together, working on the Orbs, and each other. "Thank you. Where is Neil?"

Wrapping his hands around mine, his grey eyes wide and concerned. "I need you to see to Al. We can't allow an autopsy."

"It might not be possible . . ."

"It's classified." I bit my lower lip as Jamie started work on my scalp. Just a sting, "The link. I have one, he does. It won't be removed, Neil. Please make sure of it."

"Sam, do you realize you're bleeding?"

Looking down I saw a small pool of blood spreading on the hardwood floor. I remember being creased but nothing more than that. Sheer adrenalin took over after Al was hurt, I felt nothing after that except a teardrop. In a moment they were helping me out of my jeans. I winced as the injury was revealed. One of those bullets had gone through my left knee and down. Through and through as we said at the hospital. Entrance and exit. I could look at the wound detached from the pain or reality.

"I would like to know how you were able to walk with that," Jamie scolded. "We need to take you to the Barn for an x-ray and the hospital for an ultrasound."

I actually didn't hear what was said. Greg was there, standing behind Mother, not saying anything, just watching and taking in the scene. It had been over a year since I'd seen him. His face was thinner, blue eyes narrowed and steel, meeting my gaze for only a moment. Once, he would have been where Jamie was, or where Al is . . . was.

"Just tape it up, give me a shot of antibiotics, ok?" My doctors eyes widened, ready to argue. "The press will be here, I have a lot of work to do."

"Sam . . ." Jamie began.

"I've just had probably the worst night of my life. I've spent the last half hour watching my best friend die." The bottom of my stomach tipped, the dizziness passing quickly.

Greg was watching me again, carefully, concerned. Something passed between him and Beeks, a look, a frown. Beeks handed him my bluetooth and he eased past the people around me and pressed it in my hand.

"If you need this you need it." Greg had a towel in his other hand, and, moving behind me on the couch he proceeded to dry my hair and face. Very gently, with compassion and sympathy.

"Al died saving me," I said briefly. I felt the cushions behind me settle as Greg sat down on the top of the couch. "We were ambushed and had no choice. I'm sure you will all have questions later." Some of the strong shields Al had installed in me pressed over my emotions. I did not have time for feelings, not now.

Jamie dressed the wounds on my leg, antibiotic cream some stitching, bandages. Funny how I didn't feel a thing, no tug from the stitches, no pain. Greg's hand on my shoulder was warm but not like it had been before. The numbness I felt could be from shock, or my system was doing it's best to divert any pain from reaching real levels. If I thought too much about Al I would be lost.

A lump formed in my throat. People were speaking to me but I couldn't hear the words. Just Ziggy in my ear, singing to me, softly, tenderly. A sweet song, a comfort from when I was very little that I had programmed into her years ago. My child knew the turbulence I felt, what hurt was to come.

Neil was back, looking worse for wear. Soaking wet, still. "State patrol wants a statement," he said. "We're fortunate that we have the protection of the feds or we'd both be arrested."

I met his even gaze. "If that's necessary, I'll go wherever they need us." My mind flashed back to the road, the gunshots, Al broken and bleeding in my arms. I could still smell blood, my senses reeked of it. "I don't want it over, Neil. Someone has to pay for this." I roughly wiped a tear away that had strayed down my cheek. "Mother, I need you to keep an eye on the system. If they attacked us on the road they could be trying something cyber-wise. If there is one way left to get at us it's Ziggy."

"Ziggy has her blast shields up, Dr. B." Mother sounded very sure of himself, confident in his abilities and Ziggy's.

"Neil." My security chief knelt before me, gallant, ready to please. "Where is Al?"

"We took him to the Barn, to triage." He brought an arm up to wipe at his eyes. "The county is already making noises about taking him."

"Let me be very firm about this." I ached, my head, and my heart. How easy it would be for me to just go upstairs and sleep in my good bed and never come out again. "No one is allowed on the property without a subpeona or a search warrant. On the way here I had Ziggy signal the state department. They owe us more than a few favors. I was assured due to the classified nature of the constructs and the work we do here that no judge will lawfully issue a warrant. Two people from our legal department will greet any law enforcement that tries to gain access. And our security. If someone enters without proper authorization they are to be drawn down on and arrested. No exceptions."

"You need dry clothes," Neil said. "I just thought I'd make the suggestion."

What I wanted was solitude. Each person was hanging onto every word I said. A lot like the way Al had told me he felt being in charge. Al was not a born leader, he had to get used to the idea. "Help me to the office and I can change there." I glanced back at Greg. There was nothing in his expression except concern. Not love. It was almost a relief to not have to worry about him as I had for almost every day in the past year. "I need everyone, if they can, to get rest. I promise you, tomorrow will be a very busy day. Greg?"

The blonde head lifted. There was some light in his eyes that I had not seen earlier.

"Will you come with Neil and I?" I squeezed Bena's hand. She had rested it against my wrist link, offering comfort. I leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"Oh Sam." That was all she said. Every bit of feeling in each word. She had been a part of Al's and my life for all the years we had been together. She was closer to me than Kate. Her lips were trembling, no tears.

"I'm glad you were with us in Canada," I said quietly. "I will need you-later. Now, you have to go back to bed. When the kids arrive, yours and mine, they will need you, too."

They all had questions. What had happened, why, when? I couldn't answer them or describe what I had been through in the past few hours. Neil was letting me lean against him, Greg on the other side helping me to the office, privacy, some moments where I could breathe.

Neil:
Well, one thing I managed to do, quite rightly, was get Sam to his room, not the office. Mother gave me a thankful look and got his butt back in there. He was perfectly capable of handling the cops, the media, and contacting our lawyers. They would send something to the press, respond in some way.