Too Smart for His Own Good

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.

Too Smart for His Own Good

Chapter Ten - Stone Dead Already

While the night brought work to Sam and Ziggy, for Al it brought restlessness and unease. The fatigue keeping him in bed was less a part of his own weakness than an imposition by forces beyond the project. They still had him and he wasn't able to explain it; again, an imposition by Lothos designed to create a facade. So far, it had worked, but tonight he seemed to break through it for a moment or two. Tonight he was able to tell the truth, if they believed him.

Beth lay next to him, still beautiful after more than four decades of marriage. A few crow's feet adorned her face now, but they appeared recently, probably in response to Al's dilemma. He leaned over and, not wanting to wake her, kissed her hair. In his quietest of voices he said, "I love you. Don't ever forget that."

His thin body moved to the edge of the bed and slipped out without notice. Dressing was a trick, but he got a pair of slacks and a sweater on and slippered feet made their way toward his office. Labored steps throbbed through his calves and exhaustion threatened, but he plodded along knowing there was only one way to put an end to Lothos. The light from the lab glowed softly through the windowed door. A trembling hand placed on the security panel slid the door open and Al entered his old domain. It felt right being back and for the first time he could recall, adrenalin rushed, calming the shake in his knees, just like the old days. "We can do this easier if I work with you."

Sam turned in surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'll know if you're on the right track."

The frail older man did seem stronger and that was encouraging. "You think you're up to this? I mean, I'm tired already and, no offense, I'm a little healthier than you."

"Dead people are healthier than me."

The crack was classic Calavicci and Sam laughed. "Then, I got a few questions for you." He put his hand on his friend's elbow and led him toward a chair.

The old days were back to a degree. They studied equations, researched data banks, reread transcripts from Al's last encounter. The Admiral's battle-scarred face showed signs of fragility, but he fought back until dawn started showing through the skylight. Sam put his hand on Al's shoulder. "I need some food and a few hours rest. That okay with you?"

Stopping would mean having to start again and he didn't think he had enough energy for that. "I'll stay here, if you don't mind."

Well, he did mind. Leaving Al alone wasn't an option. "Maybe I can send for some food and coffee. How's that?"

Al hunched over the terminal in front of him. He wasn't paying Sam much attention. "Yeah, that's fine with me." He leaned his right hand on the table for support, but it gave way and his forehead cracked against the desk.

Sam reached out and caught Al before he fell off the chair and dropped to the floor. "Maybe it's not so fine." He led Al to the nearby couch and helped him lie down. "Let's take a look at the damage."

The arm that gave way now pushed against Sam's hands. "Leave me alone. It's nothing."

"I'm the doctor, so let me show off a little here. Doesn't look like much, but if I don't give you the once over, Beth will have my hide."

There was truth in what Sam said and he leaned back to allow his friend a better look. Leaning back felt pretty good, anyhow. Tired eyelids closed down and a shuddering breath gave voice to his need for intermission. Gingerly, Sam probed the growing black and blue mark above the missing eye. "That tender?" There was a slight acknowledgment. "I think you'll live."

With eyes still closed, Al admitted, "For a little while at least."

Thinking he was hearing the old Calavicci again, Sam laughed, "That a threat?"

"I'm going to die before this is over." He lowered his head and met Sam's eyes with a smile. "It has to be and don't fight me on this. It's time and I'm fine with it."

Another curve thrown, Sam shook his head. "I'm glad you're fine with it."

"Good, because I am." The air in his lungs wasn't doing enough for him so he took a few deep breaths, but the effort made him weaker. "Please, Sam, I got to be fine with it or it won't work."

Nothing the Admiral said made sense to him, but this was off the charts. "What are you talking about? I don't understand anything you're saying." Like his friend and mentor, he paced the room with nervous energy blasting out of every limb. "So you're fine with dying. To hell with the rest of us, but as long as you're fine. Damn you, Calavicci!" He didn't want to be angry with this man whose life was dripping from him like a leaky faucet that couldn't be fixed. And maybe it wasn't the Admiral he was angry with, but he wanted something tangible, something he could feel, touch, see and all he had was interpretations of code that ended up telling him nothing. While he wanted to melt into a puddle of wretched sadness, he wouldn't do that in front of Al. Staying strong was imperative and it was time for him to take control. "Now, whether you like it or not, I'm getting a wheelchair and taking you back to your apartment where you belong."

Al defied the younger, stronger, and far healthier man. "I'm staying here. I have to. You need sleep? Then go. I can work on my own." Somehow, he got to his feet. Staggering, but defiant steps moved back toward the terminal. Sam moved between the Admiral and his goal. Without a second thought, Al hauled off and slugged the physicist in the gut with all the strength he had.

The punch was more surprise than aching, but Sam backed off. "What the hell was that for?"

The blow surprised the Admiral as well. He tried to cover, "Right, like it hurt. Leave me alone, Beckett." He pushed Sam to the side and went on. His stomach churned and he fought nausea rising inside him. "I have to be there soon. It's my last chance."

"For what? You talk in circles and I can't figure you out. It's like a bad computer sim. I don't understand your mental contortions anymore, Al. You're twisting things around in your head, I don't know whether to trust you or commit you."

The gaze that glared into him held only anger and hate. "You just try to have me committed."

This wasn't right. Sam didn't recognize the man in front of him, but he continued to talk calmly. "Al, we both need some sleep and food. We can come back in a few hours. Ziggy will keep working without us. We won't be losing time."

The stance changed. He was weak and quiet again. "I don't want to go home."

"Let me get a wheelchair for you." Weariness sagged the Admiral's shoulders even more and for the second time in less than eight hours, he started unceremoniously toward the floor. Sam caught him before he collapsed. He carried Al to the couch. "At least you're a skinny son of a bitch. I'm going to call Beth."

Adjusting his head on the couch he pleaded, "Please, don't. I'll rest here."

The fist-fighting person inhabiting the Admiral was gone and Sam's friend was back, but he didn't trust that the other man wouldn't show up again. "I'll call the commissary and have them send down something to eat." Al's good eye closed and in a few passing seconds, he was asleep. Sam searched in the closet for the safety blanket and used it to cover the Admiral. "Good. Stay asleep. It'll be better for both of us." Sam sat on the floor and leaned back against the couch. In a few minutes, he also nodded off.

Ziggy worked while her inventors slept. She finally had the opportunity to run the programs she wanted to run. As she had before, she kept secrets from Sam and the Admiral. Information about Lothos and Zoë were locked inside, as were bits of Lothos' programming. These would have to be accessed by the Admiral in order to make contact with the evil leaper. Ziggy and Al knew that. Sam didn't, yet.

Beth woke up without her husband and terror was her first instinct. She found his pajamas tossed onto the floor of the bathroom. Al was a neat freak almost to the point of distraction. Leaving clothes on the floor wasn't like him. "Ziggy, where's Al?"

"Admiral Calavicci is in the lab with Dr Beckett. He is well and appears to be sleeping soundly. They're both asleep at the moment. It's quite a charming, domestic scene."

Knowing where and how Al was soothed her frazzled nerves, sort of. She could relax again if only for a few minutes. Why did he go to Sam's office in the middle of the night? "Good grief."

"I never fully understood how grief can be good."

"Don't get into philosophy now." She turned Ziggy off and snuck a peak in at her youngest child.

Allie yawned and with her father's gesture, wiped her hand across her eyes. "Hi, Mom. Where's Dad? Why isn't he home?"

Beth had no clue how Allie knew her father wasn't home. Allie seemed to know a lot of things and Beth opted not to ask her the why of this particular moment. She just told the girl, "He's at the lab with your Uncle Sam. It's time for you to get ready for school."

An unsettled feeling crept through Allie's skin. "No." Her instantaneous remark surprised her as much as it surprised her mother.

"You don't plan on going to school today?"

With a certainty, she looked at her mother. "No, I'm not going. I have to be with Dad today and don't ask me why. I don't know." Her eyes tightened against the tears she knew were about to fall. She started to cry. Beth rushed to Allie and held her. "Oh Mom, I really don't know. When is this going to stop? I'm so scared and tired. I'm always tired, just like Daddy."

Beth rocked her baby. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry you got involved. This is unfair to you, very unfair. Your father never meant for you to be caught up in this. He would never hurt you. Believe that with all your heart."

"I know, Mama. Daddy is protecting all of us as best he can. It's a thousand times worse for him. Sometimes, he has to let up a little and that's when I feel it. Peri does too. Mom, please have her come home. She feels so alone. She has to come home. Can I call her? I want to talk to her."

"Let me call the school first. I'll forget if I don't do it right away. Now, I want you to go back to bed. You have to stay strong. We'll call Peri in a little while and make sure she gets home." Allie crawled down into the covers and Beth tucked her daughter in and began to sing the song she sang to all the girls and even to her MIA husband when he came home barely alive. "Baby mine, don't you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes." Allie closed her eyes and Beth, because of her own needs, gently brushed curls from the girl's face. "All those same people who scold you, what they'd give just for the right to hold you." It was hard for Beth to imagine anyone not wanting to hold her baby, but some malevolent force in the universe threatened the lives of all her family. It was an unfathomable thought. She sang more quietly, "But you're so precious to me, sweet as can be, baby of mine." Allie was sleeping again.

Beth quietly made her way out of the child's room. A call was made to the high school. Then she called her third child and asked Peri to come to the project and practically before they were off the phone, Peri was on her way. Beth, needing as much support as possible, called the two older daughters. They would be arriving early in the afternoon and the worried wife and mother tried to prepare herself for a day she knew was only going to get worse.

The Admiral remained asleep long after Sam awoke with a horrible crick in his neck. Sleeping on the floor with his head flung back against the couch in his office wasn't the best way to get the rest he needed, but it had to do. Al wasn't about to go home where he belonged and Sam couldn't leave him alone. If his neck was going to ache, so be it.

Back at his computer terminal, Sam was trying to find more uploaded programs from Lothos, but the evil computer was good. Finding glitches in the system was exceedingly difficult. It reminded Sam of a book his father read to him when he was a kid. After driving through The Phantom Tollbooth,the boy Milo found himself inside the Mountains of Ignorance and the Demons of Useless Tasks kept the boy working at futile jobs that numbed his brain. The brilliant physicist shook his head from the memory and moved from useless tasks to his imperative mission. Sam wondered about the person who created this thing. Then he wondered if Lothos was a computer at all. Al used to tell Sam that there was a devil; that he had been on the receiving end of his evil. If they were dealing with a supernatural entity, with the devil, then Sam had no control over what happened. At first, Sam didn't believe in Al's devil, but too much had happened to him. He saw the power Lothos had and there was only one explanation for it.

The thought horrified him for several minutes, but he began to feel that Lothos could be conquered. The devil had been conquered in the past and Al certainly did something to him those months ago when all hell broke loose in the Imaging Chamber. Sam smiled when he realized hell did break loose and Al survived it. In fact, Al defeated it. Sam decided to take another look at Ziggy's data regarding the last episode. Somehow, he felt he had missed something.

Sam was intent on his work and, as was his habit, he lost awareness of things around him. The Admiral awakened and began to shiver with cold. There was no voice inside him to call out. He tried, but nothing sounded. The shaking continued and became increasingly more violent. Though he wanted to, he couldn't get his body to obey him. The shaking turned into convulsions and Sam finally heard the commotion. He flew to the Admiral's side and did what he could, which was very little. "I'm here, Al. Hang on." Sam worked to keep Al on the couch where he was safe from banging his head or breaking one of his fragile bones. A full five minutes passed with no end in sight. Sam knew that brain damage was a good possibility. "Come on, buddy, this has gone on long enough." Al looked into Sam's eyes with a vacuous gaze. Sam suddenly became fearful that Al was becoming lost again as he had so many months before. "Don't you dare pop out on me! God damn you! You come back here now!"

Al heard Sam calling to him. He was fighting the pull of that other world, fighting it as best he could. If he found a voice, if he could say something, anything, he felt he might win the skirmish. Searching his memory as best he could he wanted to find words so ingrained that he would be able to speak them in his sleep. Then he saw them and he started to read the script in his head. Nothing sounded out. He forced himself to try again.

Garbled mumbling spit out, "Nu . . . 33-39-37."

Sam heard numbers. "What are the numbers, Al? What do they mean?"

Once again Sam heard the voice, but nothing sounded clear.

He needed Sam to hear him. Again, the words mumbled out, but this time he made sure Sam would understand. "Alber' Cal vicci, Adml, 15 Ju 19, s num 33-39-37."

Sam finally heard the entirety of the words. "Your name, rank and serial number? Al, come on back here. Come on!"

In a breakthrough voice, Al called out, "Albert Calavicci, Admiral, 15 June 1934, serial number 33-39-37." and the convulsing began to lessen. In a few minutes, it quieted down. Al kept up his mantra. "Albert Calavicci, Admiral, 15 June 1934, serial number 33-39-37."

Sam tried to bring Al into the present, "Come on, buddy. You're okay. It's all over. Come on back to me."

Al had trouble getting his breath. He panted and gasped until that too finally evened out and he knew the attempt to possess him had failed - this time, probably. "Sam? Are you really Sam?"

"Yeah, Al, it's me. What the hell was that?"

"I can't stop him again. It's too hard."

The Admiral wanted to sit up, but Doctor Beckett stopped him. "Stay down. That was some seizure you had. Anything feel off?"

Al tried to isolate the pain he had, but it was hard. "I don't know."

Sam put his hand on his friend's back to help him sit. As soon as Sam touched the Admiral's right shoulder Al let out a short yelp.

"Ziggy, contact the infirmary. I want a gurney up here now." The doctor could feel the dislocated shoulder through the Admiral's sweater. There was no easy way to take care of it. It was going to hurt, but it had to be done quickly. "Okay, Al. This is not going to be fun. I got to pull your arm back into place. You ready?" Al nodded slightly and took as deep a breath as possible. The doctor positioned himself, took a hold of the Admiral's wrist and swiftly pulled the arm and pushed against the shoulder. The joint slipped back into place with a groan from the patient. Sam placed the injured arm across Al's chest. "Try not to move it. I want to make sure the rest of you is in one piece." The exam was completed and the shoulder seemed to be the extent of it. The exhausted Admiral settled into the couch, his eye closed and his breathing sounded regular. "Al, you still with me?"

"Please get Beth."

"Ziggy, did you hear that?"

The computer responded, "Yes, Dr. Beckett. I will let Mrs. Calavicci know she is wanted. Should I have her go to the infirmary?"

Two ensigns arrived with the gurney. "Have her meet us there." The young men waited for instructions. "Be careful of his right shoulder." They gently hoisted the Admiral onto the conveyance, strapped him down and with Sam following, they made their way through the complex to the infirmary where Sam was going to make sure he got some x-rays.

Sam requested a full series just to insure that the shoulder was the only real problem added to the Admiral's litany. Beth helped Sam secure Al's arm to his chest. The IV Sam ordered fed the patient fluids and nutrition. Sam also managed to slip in a mild sedative. The seizure sapped Al's energy, but he was edgy and sleep wasn't going to come without some help. As he faded off, Sam pulled Beth away. "Let's talk."

Allie waited in the infirmary waiting room. Her mother and Uncle Sam came out to her. They both smiled and she immediately felt relief. "He's okay for now?"

Sam sighed, "For now. His shoulder will be fine in a few days. I know he's had problems with that arm in the past, ever since Vietnam if I'm right. Anyhow, I'm less concerned about the shoulder than I am as to what precipitated the seizure."

The Admiral's youngest told them, "Lothos was trying to possess him." Beth literally had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything yet again.

As odd as it sounded to Sam, he knew that it was time for him, Ziggy and the rest of the project to take this girl's words seriously and never again doubt the veracity of what she said. He looked at her and dreaded the question he was about to ask. "Allie, is Lothos a computer like Ziggy or an entity more like . . ." He didn't want to say it out loud because he knew he sounded insane. "Is Lothos more like the devil?"

Allie looked into her soul for an answer. "It's a computer, but not like Ziggy. It has stuff in it like Ziggy does." Sam was unclear. "Stuff, Uncle Sam. You know like Ziggy has part of you and Daddy in her."

"Ziggy contains our mesons and neurons." His gut tightened again and for some reason, his shoulder hurt a little. "Where did Lothos get his mesons and neurons?"

There was a bit of trepidation in her voice, "You don't believe me."

Sam held her hands, "I have to believe you. You and your dad have intimate knowledge of that other realm, wherever it is and whatever it is. I'm done questioning what you tell me. I need to know so Ziggy and I can help your father end this nightmare for all of us."

Like the Admiral earlier, Allie searched for a sound, but words didn't come. Her eyes hardened as she stood and walked into her father's room. Sam and Beth followed, watching the child walk to the far side of her father's bed. She stood next to the IV pole. A queer smile slowly grew and her head cocked to the side. "He's better off dead." Allie threw the IV pole to the side and yanked the tube from her father's arm. The monitor screeched out a warning. Beth screamed for Allie to stop. The girl's clenched fists smashed into the Admiral's chest and gut over and over again. Sam couldn't get to her fast enough. He pulled Allie away doing his best to contain her without harming her.

Beth went to Allie and held the child's face in her hands. "Not you, too. Allie, don't go away from me. Please, don't go."

Al's baby girl didn't understand what was happening to her. As she came back to a better world, she begged, "Uncle Sam, let me go. What's wrong?" Sam released her and went to the Admiral's side. Beth held her daughter while Sam worked frantically to extract the needle sliding deeper into a vein.

Al never saw his child attack. He stayed blessedly unaware. The IV needle was dug out, but the damage was done. The rip in the Admiral's vein bled under his skin and his arm rapidly changed color. Sam attended to his patient. "Beth, take Allie home. I'll call Commander Petrocelli to help here."

Crying through her words Allie horrifyingly admitted, "Mama, I didn't mean it."

"I know, baby. I know." She moved her child closer to the door and they slipped out leaving Sam to care for Al's newest wound.

Al's body was incredibly delicate and the needle tore the vein in his arm. He had pressure on the bleeder, but he needed help. "Ziggy, contact Emily Petrocelli. Get her down here now."

"Yes, Dr. Beckett."

Sam maintained the pressure, but the bleeding didn't ease. Al's arm started swelling and changing color. He began to stir and awaken. "God, it hurts."

"I know. The needle tore a hole in your vein. It's bleeding a lot. I have to keep pressure on it."

Blood red corneas looked into Sam's eyes. "I can feel it ripping into my shoulder."

Al was right. Sam saw the discoloration moving in both directions, both up and down the arm. "Is Lothos doing this? Can you tell?"

Listening wasn't a priority. He had to tell Sam before it was too late. "Don't trust anyone, Sam. Don't trust anyone at all."

Sam kept holding Al's arm. "Listen, can you tell me who's safe and who isn't?"

He grimaced, "God, Sam, it hurts. Make it stop, please."

The bleeding was profound. A ghastly pallor set into the Admiral's features. "I got to get inside your arm. This isn't stopping. A needle shouldn't do all this damage."

The Admiral was back in hell. He felt his arm being turned inside out. The physical and emotional pain showed its horror on his face. He pleaded "Sam, keep me with you. I'm going to be back there. I can't do it yet. We're not ready."

"Al, you need surgery to stop this bleeding. It's impossible without sedating you."

"No, cut the nerve. I don't care. Don't let me be unconscious. They'll get me again. It's too soon." Emily rushed into the room. "They want me now. They're here."

The nurse went to his side, "Admiral, it's me, Emily Petrocelli. You know me, right?"

He wasn't completely sure. His good hand reached toward her and wanted contact. "I don't know. Where's your hand?"

Emily entwined her fingers in his. "Right here. It's me, Admiral."

Nodding, he felt more comfortable. "You're Emily." Looking at Sam he said, "She's Emily."

Sam sighed with relief. "Good. Try to relax. We're going to get this bleeding stopped."

The medical team went into triage mode. The Admiral's arm was becoming almost grotesque in its swelling. Sam was concerned that opening up the arm would let loose a flood that would kill his friend in seconds, but it had to be done. Emily helped place an inflatable pressure bandage over the injured arm and the two prepared their patient for surgery without sedation. A nerve block was planned but neither had much faith in the Admiral's ability to stay with them. Just the loss of blood would be enough to send him to the far side. Another IV sent blood and other fluids into the Admiral and kept him going, barely. It was time to do the work and Sam looked scared.

Her medical instincts made Emily ask, "Dr. Beckett, are you sure we can't sedate him?"

"He says no, that he'll end up like he was after the party in Albuquerque. We can't let him go through that again." Sam stood directly over the Admiral. "Al, you still with me?"

Glazed eyes looked at Sam. "They want me now."

"Well, they can't have you. We're going to take care of you. I promise we'll get rid of them."

In his head, the Admiral heard a band playing Someone to Watch Over Me, just like he heard when he left the ballroom in Albuquerque. He felt apart from things around him. He wasn't really there. His body was in another plane of existence or time or fate. It was too late. Lothos grabbed him and it was all going to happen one more time. Sam heard a whisper, "Everything all again."

Just like the first time, there was no way to tell anyone what was happening, but the people he left behind probably had a better idea this time than they did in Albuquerque. The last time he showed up in this den of nothingness, he met Zoë face to face, but he killed her or at least he damaged her. Closing his eyes against the reality of this horror, he tried to calm his pounding heart. The weakness and frailty in his body seemed gone. This was the Admiral at his mental and physical peak, primed by his captors to go through the agony again. He sucked in a few deep breaths to try and prepare himself for whatever or whoever would be showing up next.

An unseen Observer from literal hell watched the Admiral attempt to prepare for battle. It made him laugh. "Imbecile." Looking down toward the devil, he said, "Zoë, you were right. He is an insignificant little worm. Too bad, you are dust, Zoë." Tapping his serpent-headed cane on the floor, he danced across the room. "Lothos and I are going to," he snapped his flaming red polished fingers on each syllable, "car-nee-vahl with worm-boy!" Now he was simply talking to entertain himself. "Well, not sure he'll think it's carnival, though. Carnivore? Carnivores eat flesh. That could be fun!" The laugh was giddy, silly and ugly. "Oh, a vat of piranhas nibbling on that pasty skin would be amusing. Ah, well, we shall see." His gnat-like attention span had him spinning and singing, "Back to back, belly to belly. I don't give a damn 'cause I'm stone dead already!"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Someone to Watch Over Me (c) George and Ira Gershwin