The scene Al stumbled onto was one of the most surreal things he'd ever laid eyes on. For an undetermined amount of time, he could only gape, dumbfounded, as he watched his best friend duke it out with himself. He'd been hoping against hope that Sammy Jo's theory had been off the mark, but sure enough, there was a carbon copy Al Calavicci in 1977.
When Al had gone back to his respective timeline, the Al from that other time had been caught in the paradox too. Which wasn't to say he was a true representation of what Al's life had been like without Sam, because his murderous tendencies tipped off the current Al that the time stream had screwed his head on backwards too. So now what? This was a situation everyone was completely and utterly unprepared for, like suddenly waking up with legs for arms. What the hell do you do in this sort of situation? Al's stupefied stare followed the two men as they continued to rumble.
They both looked like hell. Al could tell they'd been going at it for some time before he'd arrived. Fists and feet knocked into any body part they could land on. And if Ziggy was right, this was going to end with Sam dead in the alley. Score one for himself, Al supposed.
"Sam!" Al called out, trying to reach his friend, "Sam, you gotta listen to me! You have to get outta here!"
The two men rolled to the ground. The Other managed to land on top, socking the second Al in the jaw. His face lit up with pleasure as he laid into him again. He showed no sign of listening to the hologram Al, who might as well have been invisible too.
"Saaaaam!" Al screeched, waving his arms high over his head. "If you don't stop fighting, you're dead! I'm gonna-I mean, he's gonna kill you!" He slapped his hand to his forehead. That was a sentence he just said. Holy mackerel!
Still nothing. The other Al kneed Sam in the groin and tossed him aside. While the Other was temporarily incapacitated, he yanked him to his feet and tossed him into a garbage can. "Ha ha!" the second Al closed his eyes, laughing uproariously and placing his hands on his knees, "Time to take out the trash, kid!" This sent the Other into a fit. Pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his hair, he screamed and rammed himself into the chuckling Italian.
Hologram Al had his hands on his head, stunned. "Doctor Sam Beckett, I know you're in there! You gotta fight your way out!" Lessee, uh, things only he would know... "You're a quantum physicist! You won the Nobel Prize! You played at Carnegie Hall, and you were my best man twice, and-Oh! Once you had to pick me up naked after a terrible blind date, and you never even questioned it!" He was pulling at anything he could think of, memories unique to his Sam. "C'mon, come back to me!"
Something in his friend stirred. As he had the second Al pinned to the wall, he shook his head and shuddered. "Al...?"
Al's heart raced. "That's right, Sam! I'm here!"
Kill him! Kill him!
"N-No..." Sam's knuckles turned white.
"No, Sam, I am! Right behind you!"
Don't fuck this up for us! "N-Not you...Al..." Sam grunted, "Him..."
The second Al curled up his lip in confusion. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"
"Don't listen to him, Sam. You need to get out of here before-"
While Sam was struggling, the second Al had managed to break free and push him down. Sam clutched his head and curled up, moaning to himself, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. The Al counterpart took his attention from him for a moment before he found what he was looking for: his knife, which had been knocked to the ground in the scuffle. The blade glinted in the sunlight as he raised it menacingly.
Hologram Al crouched next to his friend. "Look out, Sam, he's got the knife!" Then, to his double. "Leave him alone, you knucklenose!" He frowned. "Did I really just call myself knucklenose? Jeez, this is like The Twilight Zone!"
Lothos is very disappointed in you. Damn good guy. I can get you out. We're fucked. Help me, Al. Help me, God. Kill kill KILL! You believed in me when-
"SAAAAAAM!"
"AL!" Sam gasped. He came to his senses just in time to roll away from the blade slashing down toward him. It clanked onto the ground, and the other Al yelled in fury.
"Stay still, you slimeball!" He raised the knife again, and Sam could only place his hands defensively over his face and wait for the worst.
Instead, the other Al suddenly found himself with a face-full of mace. Yelling in agony, he dropped the knife and clutched his eyes.
Hologram Al's head was moving so fast it nearly spun around. There was Janelle, stuffing the can of mace into her purse. Casting a glance back at the groaning attacker, she helped Sam onto his feet. "C'mon, Superman, let's boogie."
"Listen to the lady, Sam," hologram Al urged him. Only managing a nod, Sam allowed himself to be tugged away.
Al couldn't help but feel some slight secondhand pain watching his counterpart rub furiously at his burning eyes. This was getting too weird! He didn't feel like catching any more of this show, so he'd decided to pop out of there after Sam, but just as he was taking out the handlink, the world melted away into the Imaging Chamber.
"What happened? Get me back there, Ziggy!"
"That's what I'm trying to do, Admiral," Ziggy explained testily, "Unfortunately, Dr. Beckett's scrambled brainwaves have caused us to temporarily lose contact."
Al sighed. "Perfect timing, Sam!"
"I'll say," Ziggy agreed.
-
"You're lucky I found you! You wanna tell me what the hell is goin' on?" Janelle glanced over from the steering wheel to Sam. "Why'd you run out on me? And who's that guy tryin' to kill you?"
Sam was in sorry shape. He clutched his stomach and leaned into the passenger's seat. "It's...h-hard to explain...I'm not sure I really understand all of it..."
Let me OUT!
"Gah..." Sam closed his eyes.
"Chris?"
Suddenly, Sam was very urgent. He grabbed Janelle by the arm. "L-Listen, you have..." He sucked in a gulp of air. "You have t-to let me go somewhere. I...I could hurt you..."
"I think maybe you were sold something dirty, babe. You need to go to a hospital."
"No! Just let me out!" Sam frantically undid his seatbelt, ready to open the door and roll out of the moving vehicle.
Janelle's eyes went huge with alarm. "Whoa! Just hang on a damn minute!" The car screeched to a halt on the side of the road, and Sam toppled out and onto the sidewalk. "Hey! Be careful!" Within moments, she was crouched by his side.
"Stay away...from me..." Sam attempted to crawl away. He was too dangerous. He hated to think what he could do to her when he lost control again.
"I think I'm in a little too deep for that now." Janelle grabbed him by the shoulders, attempting to soothe him. "Hey. I care about you, Chris. Please let me help."
Sam had collapsed onto the ground, his face buried in his arms. He went very still. When he lifted his head, he'd withdrawn into the Other once more. "Help me..." he asked pathetically, reaching out to her.
"What can I do?" He beckoned her toward him. She leaned in closer. That's when his expression shifted to amusement, and he snatched her keys from her hand. Shoving her aside, he bounded over to her car and hopped inside.
Not the best ride he'd taken, but certainly one of the more convenient ones. With Janelle shouting for him to stop, he shot down the road.
He had a date to get to.
-
The second Al had managed to find a water fountain, splashing water onto his tear-streaked eyes. Oh, he was gonna fuck someone up real good for this. Just you wait and see. He didn't claw his way out just to go down like some chucklehead. Heads were gonna roll.
Sam Beckett. He'd ruined his life not once, but twice.
He had a special connection with Ziggy, which meant he could remember all of the timelines. Only, four months ago, he'd suddenly found himself out of the driver's seat. He'd been saddled with a new, stronger set of memories that took over, memories where he'd been best friends with this Sam Beckett. But once they were trapped, he was himself again.
He still remembered the other timeline, of course, but it wasn't his. But he knew what the Sam Beckett of that time did as well. He'd left him behind as his Observer, no life, no sleep, no problem. It had been easy for him.
He didn't know what timeline he was currently in. But he had neither life, no contact with any Project, he'd been met with maddening radio silence. All of his memories blended together anyway, making it difficult to surmise which memories belonged to which history. But he knew no matter which Sam Beckett this was, he was going to end him. No matter where or when he went, he was gonna find him. That was guaran-damn-teed.
Funnily enough, he didn't have to look that far. He heard an engine roar behind him and turned just in time to see Beckett's car barreling toward him. With microseconds to spare, he launched out of the way and the vehicle crunched into the water fountain and the wall behind it.
"You motherfucker!" Other Al, his cheek bleeding from the fall, was already on his feet as Other Sam stumbled giddily out of the totaled vehicle.
"Heya, Albert!" he waved, "Ya miss me?"
"Like a hole in the head!" Other Al yelled as he socked him in the face. Temporarily stunning him, he grabbed him by the shirt and chucked him into a shop window. The second Sam shattered the glass and landed hard on top of a mannequin.
Clunk-shoom. "Thank god, we're ba-what the hell did we miss?!" Al looked on in slack-jawed horror as he took in the scene. Water spouted into the air over the smashed vehicle, and a crowd had gathered to watch as the two combatants were at it again. He thought they'd managed to avert this! Now he'd suddenly walked in on some horrible action movie!
The Other lifted himself from the store display, a new array of cuts bleeding freshly from the pieces of glass, and found a large piece protruding from his side. Grunting, he pulled it out quick, like a Band-Aid. Not so bad. Not the worst. He ignored the blood dripping from the uncorked wound.
"C'mere. I'm not done with you." The voice came from above. As the second Al reached for him, he shoved the bloody glass shard forward. It landed deep in the other man's shoulder, and he howled.
Ziggy was going absolutely bonkers. Hologram Al gaped at the shrieking handlink, his eyes nearly popping out of his head as he was flooded with information. "Aw, JEEZ LOUISE! These two are ruining both of their host's lives!" he informed no one, "Time is in flux, it keeps changing! They both go to jail, they kill each other, they're on the run, they're shot by the police..." His head was spinning. He wobbled to keep his balance. "SAM! You gotta stop this!"
Sam sent a roundhouse into Other Al and came to a halt. He held his head as the current Sam reasserted some control. "Al...I don't want to hurt you..."
The second Al laughed. "No one told me you were a comedian, kid."
"I mean it...let's just...stop..." Exhausted, Sam dropped to his knees and panted. He wasn't sure how long he could keep doing this. He felt dizzy from blood loss. "You're my friend..."
"Chris!" It was Janelle. She'd caught up now, watching from the sidelines with worry. Sam was baffled as to why she'd care at this point. Well...he had taken her car.
Other Al watched him with slit eyes. "You don't get to play that card. Don't bullshit me." Reaching toward his belt, he pulled out his knife again. He carefully stepped closer, pointing the blade at Sam's downturned head. It seemed he was running out of steam too, his shoulder bleeding freely. "I want everything like it was before. I want..." He pursed his lips, biting back his anger. "I want to go home, Sam."
Sam shook his head, meeting his friend with sad eyes. "We can't go home, Al."
First confusion, then hurt, and then anger. The Other Al tightened his grip on his knife. "See ya, kid." He raised the knife.
"Saaaam!"
But something had renewed what little fight Sam had left, igniting a spark inside him. He didn't want to die. Dodging out of the way, he swept out his leg and knocked the other Al to the ground. The man's head cracked into the pavement, and he was out cold.
The hologram blew out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh, you did it, Sam!" He winced as he looked at his unconscious counterpart.
"Chris! Are you alright?" Janelle rushed toward him and fell to his side, checking over his wounds. He'd fallen to the ground again as his injuries caught up with him.
"Janelle..." Sam blinked the blurriness from his eyes. She was so beautiful. "Is it over...?" he asked both her and the hologram hovering behind her.
Al consulted the handlink. It was a mess. "I dunno, Sam," he said helplessly.
Janelle's warm hands cupped Sam's face. "I got you." And she leaned in and pressed her lips onto his. He sank into it, closed his eyes, let the heat wash over him like the drug...
I can't go back. I have to get rid of you.
His fingers found the knife. Before they'd even parted, the blade was embedded in Janelle's chest. She made a wheezing sound, a gasp of shock, and as they parted he could see the utter lack of understanding in her eyes.
"Sam, NO! What've you done?!" Al could hardly believe what he was seeing. The handlink screeched at his side.
Janelle's lifeless body fell to the ground, and the Other stared at his hands, red with the mingled blood of himself and his victim.
Al couldn't help the anger that rose up inside him at Sam's double. "They didn't deserve that," he said quietly.
The Other looked at Al again, but for the first time since this godforsaken leap had started...there was no hate. Only grief. "Don't I deserve it?" he asked simply.
A pause. Al stared at this pitiful man, speechless.
The Other had decided what he was going to do. He sniffled and pulled out the knife from his victim, dragging himself toward the unconscious Al on the ground. A trembling hand lifted the knife to his throat.
"Don't do it, Sam!" Al implored, "I'm begging you! If there's any good left in you right now, don't let the killing continue!"
The knife froze. The Other gulped.
"Freeze!" The police had arrived. Several guns were pointed at the man with the knife. "Put the weapon down and put your hands in the air!"
"Do what they say, Sam!" Al's concern was now for his friend's safety too. Time was still in flux, and any moment a bullet could be lodged in his skull. Things couldn't possibly get any worse!
It didn't seem as if the Other heard. He gazed at the unconscious man underneath him, brows knit, and studied him deeply. His lip trembled.
"Sam!"
"I can't kill you, Al." The knife dropped and the man looked up tearfully. Al peered closely at him, but he was unable to determine which Sam had said it. "I'm sorry..."
Al couldn't find anything to say, but he didn't need to. Sam was engulfed in blue, and all he could see was the Imaging Chamber.
-
A haze of cerulean surrounded Sam, and suddenly he was being split in two. He shrieked silently into the void as sparks of red and blue fired into his synapses, his other self clutching relentlessly to his soul. He knew who he was! He did! He had to keep fighting! He couldn't put more blood on his hands!
Time pulled at him, called him, embraced him, and the pain began to lessen as his other half began to tear away. He thought he could almost hear him calling, scrambling, pleading. But soon, silence. He was free. He was hurtled back to 1977, and the entire event was erased from his memory.
Unknown to him, the Other had been intercepted. Rather than languish in the time stream for another eternity, he was engulfed in scarlet.
-
"According to my calculations, Dr. Beckett has once again leaped into Christopher Riggs on August 3rd, 1977," Ziggy informed Al.
He leaned against the control panel with relief. "So it's like the leap never happened."
"Give yourself a cookie, Admiral."
Al would give her that one. The leap had been fixed and Janelle was still alive, and that was nothing but great news. "And Sam?" he asked warily, "Did he...?"
"According to the data from the new leap, I can deduct with 99.99% certainty of a successful separation. Dr. Beckett is now the Dr. Beckett from our current timeline."
That was extraordinarily high odds for Ziggy. The occupants of the Control Room breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness for that," Sammy Jo breathed. Gooshie and Tina nodded in agreement.
Al scratched at his temple nervously. "And, uh...and the other me?"
"Insufficient data," Ziggy replied, "Although, judging from the position of the alternate Dr. Beckett, it would be safe to assume that he is back in the time stream as well."
"Thank god for small favors." Al fell back into his chair, which was still sitting by the panel. He didn't like the idea of some homicidal doppelganger of his cruising around time. Although the fate of the alternate Sam and Al hardly sat well with him, he was just glad that for now, the crisis was over.
Now he just had to do the whole thing over again. He hoped Sam didn't remember. And wherever their other selves were...he hoped they wouldn't remember either.
-
Red. Red like Alia. Red like Thames. Red like his wounds. Red like the back of his eyelids, so closing his eyes held no escape. The red room at the Project the Other was held in like he had been so many times before. Red like the madness that overtook him.
When he'd arrived here, in his first prison again, he'd become like an animal. He couldn't comprehend that they had found him! His hands were claws, and he'd tear apart the very walls to escape. But that had only served to bloody his fingers and paint red over red. He fought and snarled and managed to injure a few of his attackers, but they knew how to break him. After eight days of torment, he'd simply given up again. He didn't care if he died. He simply wanted out. But then...that would be too easy. So he simply thought of revenge, of his old comfort.
Damn that other Sam Beckett. Damn Al Calavicci.
Now he was alone, crumpled against the table in the Holding Chamber as he nursed his injuries and let his mind drift away.
Never get out, never get out. Never go home. Damn good guy.
The first tinny notes of Perry Como's "Till the End of Time" began to fill the room, and the Other laughed painfully against his broken ribs. It was all he could do. Lothos had a sick sense of humor.
The door slid up. He didn't bother to get up or fight; he was too weak for that. His interest was piqued, however, when he saw another prisoner being led inside. The guards tossed the beaten man in the black jumpsuit to the ground.
Zoey stepped forward. "We've brought a friend for you, Samuel. You'll be working together for a long time, so play nice." She stepped into the doorway and looked down at them with amusement. "I trust you have a lot to discuss." The door slid shut, and they were left alone.
The fellow prisoner lifted his head. The other Al Calavicci gazed at him with black eyes.
He thought it would be different. The Other thought if he ever saw him again, this double, he'd murder him on sight. But now he just couldn't find the energy. He did, however, find a sick amusement in seeing him enduring his same fate. Evidently, the man shared his sense of humor. His expression mirrored his.
The other Al dragged himself across the floor, managing to pull himself into a sitting position next to him. He sighed, loudly and wheezily, and the two enemies stared at the endless red wall.
For an interminable pause, nothing.
"I've been thinking."
The Other didn't turn his head. "What's that?"
The second Al licked his cracked lips. "If it weren't for those two, we would've never met and we wouldn't be in this mess."
"Yeah. Now look at us."
"We're fucked."
The Other looked at the second Al. They both couldn't help but laugh. It was almost as if they were friends, if friends tried to kill each other.
"Looks like we're stuck together, huh?" the Other asked.
"Like glue." A pause. "I think, uh..." The second Al shifted, grunting, and turned to face him. A sick smile touched his lips. "I think we got a common interest."
That they did. The Other grinned too. He hated him. But he hated the others more. He was lucky to find someone with a like mind. Maybe, in another life, he was his friend.
They watched the red wall together with amusement. The song played on.