Al chuckled and leaned back in his chair; Sam had taken a turn behind the wheel as long as they were careful not to be caught. It wasn't much longer until they reached their final destination. The night had flown by as they conversed, more and more coming back to Al with each question. It almost felt…normal again. "So lemme ask you somethin'," Al said quizzically, "How does a guy like you and a guy like me become best friends? No offense, but we're not exactly that much alike."

Sam coughed and tilted his head. "Well, uh, it all started when you were attacking a vending machine..."

"What?"

"Mmhm. With a hammer."

"Get outta town!" Al suddenly gasped as it trickled back into his mind. "Oh hell. Yeah! It ate my dime! I was drunk off my butt!" He laughed, and Sam joined him. "Gee, Sam, you gotta pick your friends better."

Shaking his head, Sam grinned. "Becoming your friend was the best decision I ever made."

Al suddenly became quiet, ducking his head. "Thanks, Sam," he said softly. Why did he always do that? Becoming uncomfortable, he shifted in his seat and changed the subject. "So look. Goin' to the Grand Canyon isn't exactly a plan. What happens after that?"

"That's a good question."

"I mean we can't take Joey and Buck back to their father, and their mother's dead. Where do they go?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know? Doesn't your, uh, whatchamacallit—Observer tell you what to do?"

Sam gnawed on his lower lip before giving an answer. "You were my Observer before I…lost contact. No Project, no Observer."

A moment passed before Al could properly take all of it in. He knitted his brow and narrowed his eyes. "You mean all this time…you were on your own?" Wordless, Sam responded with a tight grin. Stroking his chin and stunned by this new revelation, Al studied his friend sadly. "I mean…how did you survive out here?"

"I almost didn't." Sam stared intently at the road now, hands gripped tightly on the wheel. His most recent leaps began to resurface in his mind, ghoulish images, and he tried not to let the pain show too much on his face. Al didn't need to know the details.

The silence was broken by a relieved sigh. "Well, it's a good thing you have a second noggin on this now, huh?" One look at Al's encouraging grin, and some of Sam's sadness ebbed away. How badly he'd needed him.

Between the two of them, they could certainly save two children, and, perhaps…Sam had been saved as well.

"Hey."

"Mmmmfff…"

"Joey, wake up."

"Five more minutes…"

"We're here."

Bleary-eyed, hair sticking straight up, Joey sat up in bed and stared at his brother. "Huh?"

"I said we're here," Sam repeated with a lopsided grin.

"We're here? WE'RE HERE!" Instantly awake and filled with elation, Joey tossed the blanket aside and rocketed out of bed. The excitement caught on with Sam and Al as he raced out of the trailer and into the desert.

"Hey wait for us!" Al called as he and Sam followed, "Don't get too far ahead!" Under his breath he added. "Jeez, where does he get the energy this early in the morning?"

"Come on, slowpokes!" Joey tossed over his shoulder as he jogged out of the parking lot.

The look on Joey's face as he gazed upon the Grand Canyon was that of indescribable joy. Golds and reds and burnt sienna were lit up beautifully by purple sky. He looked at the postcard again, just to compare, and it was exactly the same then as it was now and as it would be when Sam first saw it in 1986. It was a place frozen in time. But Joey saw something more important to him there.

He looked up at the purple sky, saying to Sam next to him, "Mom's up there. Can you feel her?"

Sam followed his gaze and smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah. I do." And he did.

"It's just like the postcard says."

And it was.

They stayed there all day. It seemed whatever it was Joey was looking for, he'd found it, and Sam knew he'd made the right call. That certainly didn't solve the leap, but he was positive it was part of it. They'd stay the night, and in the morning he and Al would brainstorm. For now, the three of them simply enjoyed the scenery, walked along the paths in the canyon. Sam liked being a big brother; he channeled some of what he remembered best about Tom. Al shared stories about New Mexico, the cleaned up ones he could remember anyway, which enthralled Joey, but made Sam a little sad.

Introspective, a little lost, Sam mulled everything over that night as he lay on the ground and gazed at the stars, arms propped behind his head. The radio played softly from the trailer behind him. Que sera, sera...

It was a dirt parking lot, hardly an ideal spot to be. Up above, however, was a gorgeous expanse of twinkling lights.

"Hey Joey. I think I saw a vending machine by that rest stop. Why don't you get yourself a candy bar?"

Sam glanced over to see Al slip a dollar bill to the young boy, whose eyes lit up as he snatched it away and took off. Sam tried to turn his face and hide his amusement, but Al caught it.

He hitched a confused eyebrow. "What, is that not enough for a candy bar?"

He was still thinking in 2002 prices. Chuckling, Sam shook his head. "No, that's enough for…a few candy bars at least."

Realizing his mistake, Al clapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh jeez, he's never gonna get to sleep tonight!" He shook his head. "One of these days, I'm gonna have to get used to this leaping thing."

There was that ball of guilt again.

The crunching of dirt underneath mud-dried shoes. Al slid onto his back next to him, groaning a bit as he tried to get comfortable. He frowned, shifted, then took off his jacket and placed it under his head. Finding that suitable, he folded his hands over his stomach and settled in. After a moment, he looked over at Sam.

He was quiet.

Al could read him; he always could. He wasn't much of a stranger now that many of the holes in his swiss-cheese brain had been filled. "Must've been lonely."

"I could've managed."

"Without me? C'mon."

Sam furrowed his brows in thought; he could feel his friend's eyes on him. Every star seemed to be alive tonight; they had names that weren't their names at all. He licked his lips. "Sometimes I feel like everyone I leap into…leaves a piece of themselves behind. A memory, an experience. Like they're part of me now. And when I remember that…I know that I'm never truly alone."

Al puckered his lips in thought and nodded. "Sounds like leaping isn't that bad."

"It has its benefits," Sam admitted with a small smile.

"You know what else?"

"Hm?"

"Now that I'm stuck in time, I don't have to worry about any of the baggage that came with my life. None of the daily grind bullshit, y'know?" Al shifted to get comfortable again, returning his gaze skyward. "Like, uhhh…for instance, I don't have to fill out any more stupid paperwork, or constantly shmooze for funding!"

"No bills." Sam added with amusement.

"No alimony! No Ziggy!" Al's eyes lit up and he chuckled. "Hell, I got it made! All of that is someone else's problem!"

"And you'll never be bored," Sam pointed out enthusiastically, "When you're leaping, you never know what's coming next. It's something new every day."

"Yeah, I never liked being cooped up in the Imaging Chamber anyway! I mean, I saw what you saw, but it's not the same." Al shook his head and gestured toward the stars. "Thank god I decided to come here, Sam, or I'd miss out on experiencing these things firsthand. I mean, this is…this is nice." He turned his head and grinned. Sam grinned back. "We're stuck in time with no way to go home, so what? That place was overrated anyway. Maybe for now…this is home." Al nodded at the stars confidently.

Sam was still staring at him. "I'm really glad you're here. I was lost without you, Al."

Al met his gaze again, staring intently. Then…he flicked Sam across the nose.

"Vaffanculo!Get offa me, you creep!"

Sam was jolted awake by the sound of Al's yelling, causing him to tumble out of the bed and wake up Joey in the process. "Stay here!" he ordered as he clumsily got to his feet, but the door was opened by a police officer.

"You're in a lot of trouble, son."

So much for brainstorming.

"You know, we've had a lot of folks looking for you two. Least you could do is talk to me."

Next to Sam in the police station, Joey remained tight-lipped and closed off. They were waiting for their father to pick them up. Sam figured maybe he could've gotten them away at some point, they weren't handcuffed or anything, but Al had been taken into custody, and he wasn't going to leave him behind. Of course, once they were taken away by Rick, Al would be alone anyway.

The officer was speaking to them as he should've spoken to a child, gently and on one knee, but Sam was not a child and he was growing frustrated at how small he felt. Nobody really wanted to hear what a 12-year-old had to say. And the policeman was big and burly, with a full beard, he made Sam feel small enough as an adult. "I'm gonna ask you one more time. What were you doing with Davey Malone?"

"I told you," Sam said with annoyance, "he was driving us to the Grand Canyon like we asked, that's all. He didn't do anything wrong!"

"I don't know if you know just how much trouble he is, fella," the officer said warningly, "He has a history with us. You know what a prior is?"

Sam glared. "Yes, I know what a prior is."

"Good, well he has a lot of 'em. He's a runaway too. Only he doesn't have any parent looking for him like you do." The officer leaned in closer. "If he said or did anything to make you come with him, got you to help him take anything…you can tell us. No one's gonna judge you."

"Davey isn't the enemy here. Rick Hudson is the one you should be worried about!"

"Whatever argument you had with your dad, it's not worth running away over."

"It wasn't just an argument!" Sam shouted, sitting up straighter. Why wouldn't anyone listen? "He's—"

"I know, I know, I cut off your allowance." The slimy toad was there now, all patronizing smiles. Joey and Sam simultaneously tensed up. "It seems like the end of the world, but it isn't. You'll get it again when you behave."

Sam's mouth hung open incredulously. The officer was buying the whole thing. "That's not what happened! You've gotta—"

"I appreciate you finding my boys," Rick interrupted, shaking the officer's hand, "They can be quite a handful."

"Just doing my job, sir."

"When can I take them with me?"

"Just as soon as we fill out some paperwork."

Joey remained silent, angry heat radiating from him, and Sam was feeling the same within himself. No one was listening.

A few hours and a bottle of Jack Daniels later, Rick was acting a lot more in character. Slouched against the pillows on the motel bed in a drunken stupor, he flipped channels disinterestedly on the TV. Sam and Joey sat by the table in the corner, quietly playing a card game neither of them were invested in, squinting in the crummy yellow light.

"Buck…I'm scared," Joey whispered, eyes glued to the table. Neither of them wanted to get their father's attention.

"Don't be," Sam murmured, keeping his voice low, "He's never gonna hurt you again. I promise."

This promise he intended to keep. For now, he was waiting for his next move. With all that Rick was drinking, he was bound to pass out soon. And when he did, Sam was going to take Joey and get the hell out of there. After that, he'd find some way to leave a message for Al with a rendezvous point. From what he could tell, Davey's rap sheet included mostly minor infractions—petty theft, trespassing, a few other small things—and Rick, not wanting to put too much attention on himself from the law, had declined to press any charges for their supposed kidnapping. With any luck, Al would be out of jail by tomorrow.

"You little shits are gonna get it when we get back," Rick slurred, pointing the bottle in his hand at them. Some of the alcohol splashed out, reminding him he hadn't taken a swig in a few minutes, so he took a big gulp of it. "Bet you had a lot of fun on your little drive. Well guess what? You're gonna work off all the time you cost me with this little stunt. Just you wait." Another swig. "Just you wait."

The cards in Joey's hands started to shake. They were stilled by Sam's hands clasping over his with an encouraging squeeze. It's going to be okay. Trust me.

They weren't alone.

"Hello? Is everyone here hard of hearing? I said someone needs to go check on those kids!"

"Yeah, yeah." The officer waved dismissively at Al in his cell, receiving a disgusted look in response.

Well, this was swell. Al didn't feel like this leap was going well at all. In fact, it was going pretty piss poorly, if he had to rate it.

"I'm not making this up!" he said more insistently, "That scuzzbag isn't fit to be a father!"

A baton banged into his cell door, and he jumped. "If you don't quiet down, we'll find something else to keep you here. Make sure it sticks. Understood?" With a warning look, the policeman passed by. Al glared at him, shooting a not so nice gesture at his back, one he learned from his father. Hey, another thing he remembered. "Hey Lonnie…"

Another officer, a big guy with a beard, stopped as he was being addressed by the one with the baton. Maybe he would listen. Al remembered him from the arrest, he was a little nicer than the others. Somewhat. It was hard to know the difference; ever since his run-ins with the law when he was younger, Al found himself distrusting most of 'em. But, well, admittedly he was usually doing something wrong.

Something about the bigger guy caught his attention. The name tag: Officer Taylor.

Nah. Couldn't be. It would be one hell of a coincidence. As Ziggy would say, the odds of running into him would be astronomical.

Since when did he listen to Ziggy anyway?

Officer Baton left, and Al addressed Taylor as he was leaving. "Hey, it's Lonnie, right? You didn't happen to know a Francine Taylor, did you?" He narrowed one eye at the large man, who stopped curiously.

"Maybe."

No way. Al leaned against the bars hopefully. "Did you write her a postcard in 1959? Had the Grand Canyon on it?"

Lonnie's mouth fell agape. Immediately suspicious, he closed in. "She was my sister. How the hell do you know about that?"

If it didn't seem so out of place, and if Sam weren't in trouble, Al could whoop for joy. He couldn't believe his good luck! He leaned even further forward, as far as he could get. "Did you know she had kids?"

Lonnie frowned. "And how would you know that?"

"I'll take that as a no."

"She eloped with some stranger shortly after I sent the letter; we lost contact." Lonnie shook his head, now hungry for information. "How did you read that letter? You're not…?" He trailed off as he sized up Al.

"We're not related, trust me," Al answered, lifting his palms, much to Lonnie's relief. Hey, what was that about? Al was slightly offended, but he let it go. "But I did see the letter. Your nephews have it. And right now, they're in really bad hands."

Rick was fumbling with the doorknob. "C'mon," he said over his shoulder, "We're gonna get some take out."

"I don't think you should be driving," Sam insisted sternly. Neither he nor Joey moved from their spots.

"I don't think you should be thinkin' at all," Rick said. When they refused to budge still, he rolled his eyes and grabbed them by the arms, yanking them toward the door.

"Hey!" They were outside before Sam jerked away, prying Rick away from Joey. "Don't touch us." He stepped between him and Joey protectively, then held out his hand. "Give me the keys." There was no way he was letting him out on the road.

Rick stared incredulously, then burst into a chuckle. "You're way outta line, Buck."

"I'm not joking."

"Neither am I. Now c'mere." He reached for them again, but Sam kept himself in the middle of him and Joey. With a single push, he was able to knock the drunken idiot to the ground, the bottle in his hand smashing when he landed. "Son of a-! I oughta knock you senseless!"

This was pathetic. Rick wriggled on the ground, unable to find his balance.

"C'mon, Joey," Sam said, taking him by the hand, "let's go." He received no argument from his brother, and they took their leave.

"HEY!"

Just in time, Sam twisted around to see Rick unsteadily back on his feet and brandishing the broken bottle. The fire that had been building up in Sam flared up, and he moved Joey out of the way. He sent the bottle out of his hands with a swift kick of his leg, leaving the other man stunned. Yelling, he staggered forward with fists raised, but Sam sent a roundhouse into his chest and knocked him over again. He wasn't going to get near Joey. Sam was completely done with this lowlife.

"Back off!"

"Whoa!" Joey's eyes were huge. "How'd you learn to fight like that?!"

"Uhh…TV," Sam clumsily lied. "We're leaving now."

Leave a message, somewhere where Al could find it. Meet up. Solve the leap.

"BUCK! YOU GET OVER HERE!" Rick once again had the bottle in hand, ready to throw it. Sam had seconds to move them out of harm's way. "You lousy little—!"

"DROP THE WEAPON!"

Three heads swiveled over to see Lonnie Taylor, gun raised and pointed at the offending drunk. Instantly, Rick dropped the bottle and raised his hands.

Behind him, Al gave Sam a thumbs up.

They were back in the police station, only this time under much better circumstances. Sam, Al, and Joey sat together as Rick was being led away in cuffs, casting one last hateful look in their direction. Al had filled Sam in on the details, and Sam was more glad than ever to have someone else on this leap to look out for them. For the first time in a long time, he felt confident he'd done what he was supposed to do.

"Joey, Buck." Lonnie leaned down again to talk to them, a face asking for forgiveness. "I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you."

"S'okay. No one does." Joey didn't seemed particularly enthralled. Maybe because his future was so uncertain.

"But that ends tonight," Lonnie promised, "And you aren't going to live with your father any more. He's not gonna lay a hand on you." Joey looked up, and Lonnie smiled. "How'd you like to come home with your uncle?"

Joey's eyes widened in shock as Sam looked suitably surprised. "You?"

Lonnie's eyes were watering. He nodded. "I think you got my letter." Suddenly Joey threw his arms around Lonnie's neck, nearly knocking him over, and the overwhelmed man hugged him back. Casting a look at Sam, he pulled him into the hug. "I love you boys. We've got a lotta catching up to do."

Joey and Buck were safe now. And, as the tingling sensation building up inside Sam indicated, the leap was almost over. He wondered if Al felt it too.

"Hey." Lonnie pulled back and turned his attention toward Al. "You got anywhere to go tonight?"

Al grinned. "You offerin'?"

"That is, if it's alright with the boys."

"Yes! Yes!" Joey threw his fist into the air, hugging Lonnie again. Something told Sam that Joey would get to bug Davey for a long time after that.

The joy was infectious. Sam and Al locked eyes, and they were both grinning ear to ear. While Lonnie was distracted with Joey, Sam said happily, "Good job, Al."

"Good job, Sam."

Sam wrapped his arms around him, and they leaped.

For now, they were home.