*****
Sam was sleeping soundly when Al made his appearance Janice's bedroom. He looked down at his friend, a very worried expression on his face. He turned to look at an empty space beside him. "He doesn't remember, Bena. thank God for little favors. Maybe it'll be all right." He shook his head at the answer he received. "He had a look once that I thought was going to lead to the memory, but it Swiss-cheesed. And I'm sure as hell not going to remind him." Al patted his arm and a woman suddenly appeared next to him as his hand touched hers. "I just hope he never remembers what that nozzle did to him." The woman nodded and took her hand off his arm, disappearing the minute she did so.
Al looked back down at the sleeping man and frowned. Sam was beginning to move restlessly, head moving from side to side. He was mumbling words that Al couldn't make out. Al moved closer to the bed, kneeling at it's side. "Oh, Sammy, please don't remember. You don't need the grief." The expression on the normally hard face softened at the words. He reached out a hand to touch Sam's hair and pulled back when he remembered the touch was impossible.
"I'm doing the best I can." Al started at the words coming from Sam and looked up.
"Bena, you still there?" A slight pause. "He's remembering. What do I do?" A longer pause this time. "What do you mean, 'nothing?' I can't just sit here. There has to be something I can do." Al looked back down at Sam while listening to Dr. Beeks's answer. "You know I'll stay with him. He doesn't have to ask and he won't be able to chase me away."
Al jumped back reflexively when Sam suddenly sat upright in bed, eyes staring and glassy. His breath was coming in gasps and Al wished he could put his arms around the younger man and drive the demons that were tormenting him away. He caught his breath and leaned back so that he was eye level with his friend. "You okay, Sam?" The question didn't really need an answer.
Sam just shook his head, bewildered and a slightly lost look reflecting in his eyes. "Just a bad dream," he mumbled. From the look on Sam's face, Al knew that it was more than just a bad dream.
"Want to talk about it?"
"No! Just go away, Al. Leave me alone," Sam snapped at him uncharacteristically. "It was just a bad dream." Sam fell back on the bed and turned his back to Al, pulling the cover up tohis chin and burying his face in the pillow.
"Forget it, Sam. I'm not leaving. I can probably guess what the dream was about." Al moved around to the other side of the bed so he could face his friend. "Now talk."
"It was nothing," Sam insisted, a hint of tears in his eyes. "Nothing at all."
"Wrong, kiddo. I bet I can guess who the main players were." Sam gave him a disbelieving look. "Yourself and a certain Professor Sebastian Lonigro. Am I right?" Sam nodded, pulling himself up into a seated position. "I was hoping you wouldn't remember this, kid. I'm sorry."
"Why? You weren't even there." Sam's voice was low and his eyes were focused on his hands. Al could see that his friend was headed for a major case of depression and knew he had to snap him out of it quick or he'd be no good for the rest of this leap.
"No, I won't, but that sort of thing shouldn't happen to a kid, especially one like you," Al answered just as softly.
"What do you mean, 'like me?'"
"You were sheltered, Sam. Probably nobody ever raised their voice to you when you were growing up. And I bet your folks didn't believe in corporal punishment, either." Sam nodded at that. "What Lonigro did to you was criminal. If I'd been there, I would probably have taken his head off." Sam smiled grudgingly at the picture that brought to mind.
"It wasn't that bad, Al. There were other people there who supported me." Sam was carefully examining his fingernails. "He never really hurt me."
"Bull shit, Sam. He hurt you. It may not have been physical, but he _did_ hurt you. He was just plain jealous of your smarts and took it out on you the only way he could." Al took a deep breath to calm himself. "He could have totally destroyed you, Sam. Broken your spirit, that part of you that wanted to travel in time. And that's wrong."
Sam looked up at the older man, eyes bright. "He didn't though, Al. I survived and proved my theories. He said that they would never work and yet here I am, traveling in time. I proved him wrong."
"Yeah, I know." Al leaned over and looked closely at his friend. "You going to be okay, now, Sam? I...We were kind of worried." Sam smiled at the slip. "This could make this leap more difficult than others."
"No, Al. It'll make it easier. I'd forgotten what it was like, but now that I remember, I'll know how to handle it." Sam let loose with a face splitting yawn. "I'm real tired. Mind if I get a little sleep?" he asked as he snuzzled back down under the covers.
"No, I don't mind, pal," Al said softly as Sam's eyes closed in sleep.
*****
The next day went smoothly. Sam managed to ease his way through classes and was glad that Janice didn't have any tests. There was no way that he could face a 16-year-old's intelligence, especially since he'd already been at MIT when he was 16. Cheerleading practice went well and the pyramid managed to stay upright, unlike the day before.
Everything also went smoothly at home. Mark and his father didn't argue once and Sam was beginning to feel like things were going to work out on their own without his interference. That is, things were going well until he settled in Janice's room for the night.
"I don't care what other kids do. You're my son and you'll do as I say." A mumble coming from Mark that Sam couldn't make out was the answer and then the sound of flesh hitting flesh. That pulled Sam out of the room and across the hall in a matter of seconds.
He flung open the door and stared at what he saw. Mark turned away quickly, but not before Sam saw the mark of John's hand on his cheek. John turned as the door opened. "Go back to your room, young lady. NOW!"
"But..."
"No buts. Go. This doesn't concern you." John turned back to Mark, ignoring Sam's hostile presence.
Sam entered the room rather than leave and pulled John around. The older man, surprised by his 'daughter's' strength, didn't fight it. "Stop it, Dad. Right now. Mark's not you. I don't know why you're pushing him like this, but please just stop."
"Janice." Mark this time, chiding him gently. "Please, sis. It's okay."
"No, it's not." Sam felt real anger and a little bit of the frustrated sorrow he'd never allowed himself to show about Lonigro until he'd finally talked to Verbena Beeks about it. Tears started welling in his eyes and he didn't try to stop them. "Dad, you can't do this. I don't know what's wrong, but can't you work it out peacefully." Sam turned slightly when he heard the Imaging Chamber door open. Al stood there, sympathy in every movement he made. "Yelling at Mark to be something he isn't will just make things worse. I can't stand it. I heard about a group that...." Sam choked back a sob, saying words that he wished he'd been able to say to Lonigro. "Dad, he's different. He feels things differently. Please, try to understand. I did some checking into that group. It helps families with problems. Please, can we..."
"Janice," John interrupted softly. "This isn't any of your business and I'm not going to discuss my private life with a bunch of strangers. Now go back to bed and things will look better in the morning." He pushed Sam gently out of the room and across the hall. Sam heard the door lock when it was closed and began pulling on the handle.
"Dad! Let me out! Please." The last was almost a whisper. Sam sank to the floor, not even looking up when Al walked through the door. "Please don't do this. I'm doing the best I can." Al started at the words; the same one that Sam had mumbled in his sleep. He knelt down at his friend's side, wishing he could take him in his arms and sooth away the pain.
"Come on, kid. It's okay." Al was worried and visibly shaking. "Gooshie, get Bena in here, NOW!" He turned back to Sam. "Come on, Sam. Answer me."
"I'm doing my best, Professor. Honest. I know it'll work." Sam's voice seemed younger to Al. Al looked up and nodded after a few minutes.
"Sam, where are you?" Al asked anxiously, dreading the answer.
"The Berkshire's, Professor. You know that." Sam's voice was small and scared.
"You were right, Bena," he whispered. "Sam, you're not in the Berkshire's. You're in Leeper, Pennsylvania. You're traveling in time, Sam. You did prove your theories. You prove that bastard wrong a long time ago."
Tear stained hazel eyes moved up to contact concerned brown ones. "Al?" Sam rubbed the back of his hand over his nose. "What happened?"
"Things got a little too close to home, Sammy. You're going to be okay." Al pulled out the handlink and turned it on. "Now all you have to do is..." He glanced at the readout. "Is get out of here now and get over to Mark's room. He's going to take those pills now." Al dashed through the door.
Sam could hear him yelling at Mark not to take the pills. Sam backed up as much as he could, put his shoulder down and rushed the door. The frame gave way with little effort and he crashed across the hall into the other room. Mark was just about to put a handful of pills in his mouth when Sam slammed into him. Both ended up in a heap on the floor. Sam hit Mark's hand as he tried to take the pills even while struggling with Sam.
"Oh, no you don't," Sam growled at him. "I'm not going to let you kill yourself." Sam grabbed the pills and scattered them over the room. "You do that and you prove Dad right." Both were breathing hard when Sam finally let Mark go. "You going to do that again?"
"Maybe," as the short answer. "No one would care if I did."
"Wrong. I'd care, you idiot." Sam turned his head to look at Mark. "And dad would care, too, even if he doesn't show it now. He does love you. And he thinks he's doing the right thing." Mark snorted. "That's why I suggested that group. They'd be able to help him, and us."
"Us?"
"We get hurt by what Dad's going through, too, you know." Sam glanced at Al. "You need people who really care about you, telling you that you're okay, to be able to get through this kind of abuse."
Al glanced at Sam, smiled slightly, and then glanced over at Mark and the quicksilver change of emotions on his face. "I think you're getting through to him, Sam. Why don't you tell him about a certain kid genius that you know? Might help both of you. And you're welcome." Al looked up. "Stuff it, Dr. Beeks. I think it will help."
Sam smiled back at the older man, remembering his support when he finally told him about Lonigro and then back at the younger one sitting next to him and decided to take Al's advice. "Mark, I heard about this person. He was the youngest ever to go to MIT. Only 16. He was already working on his third doctorate when he met a professor who had roughly the same ideas he had. The two of them became friends, of a sort, and worked constantly together, trying to perfect this theory that they shared. Problem was, the kid soon outpaced his professor and then the problems started. The professor would treat the kid differently. Oh, they still worked together, but he would put him down, privately, and support him publicly. Called him an idiotic dreamer. A crackpot. Did everything but physically hit him."
Sam stopped, remembering all the abuse that had been heaped on him and how much of it he had believed until he'd finally had the courage to tell someone. How Lonigro had cut apart what he had felt was a crucial part of his time travel theory and the angst that he had felt when this person he'd admired didn't believe in him. Al had dragged him down to Verbena's office five seconds after Sam had told him everything. It had been months before he felt that he'd gotten all the grief out of his system.
Mark looked thoughtful. "So who is this _wunderkind_?" he asked finally.
"Wait right here." Sam rushed into the living room and picked up a magazine he'd noticed earlier and brought it back into Mark's room. "This is him," he said, handing the magazine to Mark, smiling. Sam had always hated that photo but this time it was doing some good. Mark was carefully looking at the cover of Time Magazine and the picture of a person that they were calling the next Einstein.
"Dr. Beckett was really treated like that? Is that in the article?" Mark asked beginning to leaf through the pages. He looked a bit skeptical.
"Nope, I just heard about it. He didn't want it to be general knowledge, to keep the professor's reputation in tact. Perhaps he should. Might do some good for others, like you." In his mind, Sam promised himself that he would do just that when he finally got home. It would be good therapy for him and it might encourage children who were in the Sam situation come forward. He looked at Al, eyes a little glassy. A question was there as well.
"It worked, Sam. Mark ends up doing a lot of good, after he and Janice, and eventually John as well, get some therapy. He uses a football scholarship he got to get a medical degree. He doesn't do anything major, just helps a lot of people, especially abused children." Al looked up form the handlink and smiled at Sam, who was now sitting on the bed. "Good job, Sam."
"So, what are you going to do now?" Sam asked Mark. "Going to run back to those pills?"
"Nope," Mark said. I'm going to go with my little sister to that group she told me about and see about getting a little help. That is, if you'll go with me?" Sam nodded and smiled at Mark. The last thing he saw as the quantum fire carried him off to his next assignment was Mark's answering smile.
Sam was sleeping soundly when Al made his appearance Janice's bedroom. He looked down at his friend, a very worried expression on his face. He turned to look at an empty space beside him. "He doesn't remember, Bena. thank God for little favors. Maybe it'll be all right." He shook his head at the answer he received. "He had a look once that I thought was going to lead to the memory, but it Swiss-cheesed. And I'm sure as hell not going to remind him." Al patted his arm and a woman suddenly appeared next to him as his hand touched hers. "I just hope he never remembers what that nozzle did to him." The woman nodded and took her hand off his arm, disappearing the minute she did so.
Al looked back down at the sleeping man and frowned. Sam was beginning to move restlessly, head moving from side to side. He was mumbling words that Al couldn't make out. Al moved closer to the bed, kneeling at it's side. "Oh, Sammy, please don't remember. You don't need the grief." The expression on the normally hard face softened at the words. He reached out a hand to touch Sam's hair and pulled back when he remembered the touch was impossible.
"I'm doing the best I can." Al started at the words coming from Sam and looked up.
"Bena, you still there?" A slight pause. "He's remembering. What do I do?" A longer pause this time. "What do you mean, 'nothing?' I can't just sit here. There has to be something I can do." Al looked back down at Sam while listening to Dr. Beeks's answer. "You know I'll stay with him. He doesn't have to ask and he won't be able to chase me away."
Al jumped back reflexively when Sam suddenly sat upright in bed, eyes staring and glassy. His breath was coming in gasps and Al wished he could put his arms around the younger man and drive the demons that were tormenting him away. He caught his breath and leaned back so that he was eye level with his friend. "You okay, Sam?" The question didn't really need an answer.
Sam just shook his head, bewildered and a slightly lost look reflecting in his eyes. "Just a bad dream," he mumbled. From the look on Sam's face, Al knew that it was more than just a bad dream.
"Want to talk about it?"
"No! Just go away, Al. Leave me alone," Sam snapped at him uncharacteristically. "It was just a bad dream." Sam fell back on the bed and turned his back to Al, pulling the cover up tohis chin and burying his face in the pillow.
"Forget it, Sam. I'm not leaving. I can probably guess what the dream was about." Al moved around to the other side of the bed so he could face his friend. "Now talk."
"It was nothing," Sam insisted, a hint of tears in his eyes. "Nothing at all."
"Wrong, kiddo. I bet I can guess who the main players were." Sam gave him a disbelieving look. "Yourself and a certain Professor Sebastian Lonigro. Am I right?" Sam nodded, pulling himself up into a seated position. "I was hoping you wouldn't remember this, kid. I'm sorry."
"Why? You weren't even there." Sam's voice was low and his eyes were focused on his hands. Al could see that his friend was headed for a major case of depression and knew he had to snap him out of it quick or he'd be no good for the rest of this leap.
"No, I won't, but that sort of thing shouldn't happen to a kid, especially one like you," Al answered just as softly.
"What do you mean, 'like me?'"
"You were sheltered, Sam. Probably nobody ever raised their voice to you when you were growing up. And I bet your folks didn't believe in corporal punishment, either." Sam nodded at that. "What Lonigro did to you was criminal. If I'd been there, I would probably have taken his head off." Sam smiled grudgingly at the picture that brought to mind.
"It wasn't that bad, Al. There were other people there who supported me." Sam was carefully examining his fingernails. "He never really hurt me."
"Bull shit, Sam. He hurt you. It may not have been physical, but he _did_ hurt you. He was just plain jealous of your smarts and took it out on you the only way he could." Al took a deep breath to calm himself. "He could have totally destroyed you, Sam. Broken your spirit, that part of you that wanted to travel in time. And that's wrong."
Sam looked up at the older man, eyes bright. "He didn't though, Al. I survived and proved my theories. He said that they would never work and yet here I am, traveling in time. I proved him wrong."
"Yeah, I know." Al leaned over and looked closely at his friend. "You going to be okay, now, Sam? I...We were kind of worried." Sam smiled at the slip. "This could make this leap more difficult than others."
"No, Al. It'll make it easier. I'd forgotten what it was like, but now that I remember, I'll know how to handle it." Sam let loose with a face splitting yawn. "I'm real tired. Mind if I get a little sleep?" he asked as he snuzzled back down under the covers.
"No, I don't mind, pal," Al said softly as Sam's eyes closed in sleep.
*****
The next day went smoothly. Sam managed to ease his way through classes and was glad that Janice didn't have any tests. There was no way that he could face a 16-year-old's intelligence, especially since he'd already been at MIT when he was 16. Cheerleading practice went well and the pyramid managed to stay upright, unlike the day before.
Everything also went smoothly at home. Mark and his father didn't argue once and Sam was beginning to feel like things were going to work out on their own without his interference. That is, things were going well until he settled in Janice's room for the night.
"I don't care what other kids do. You're my son and you'll do as I say." A mumble coming from Mark that Sam couldn't make out was the answer and then the sound of flesh hitting flesh. That pulled Sam out of the room and across the hall in a matter of seconds.
He flung open the door and stared at what he saw. Mark turned away quickly, but not before Sam saw the mark of John's hand on his cheek. John turned as the door opened. "Go back to your room, young lady. NOW!"
"But..."
"No buts. Go. This doesn't concern you." John turned back to Mark, ignoring Sam's hostile presence.
Sam entered the room rather than leave and pulled John around. The older man, surprised by his 'daughter's' strength, didn't fight it. "Stop it, Dad. Right now. Mark's not you. I don't know why you're pushing him like this, but please just stop."
"Janice." Mark this time, chiding him gently. "Please, sis. It's okay."
"No, it's not." Sam felt real anger and a little bit of the frustrated sorrow he'd never allowed himself to show about Lonigro until he'd finally talked to Verbena Beeks about it. Tears started welling in his eyes and he didn't try to stop them. "Dad, you can't do this. I don't know what's wrong, but can't you work it out peacefully." Sam turned slightly when he heard the Imaging Chamber door open. Al stood there, sympathy in every movement he made. "Yelling at Mark to be something he isn't will just make things worse. I can't stand it. I heard about a group that...." Sam choked back a sob, saying words that he wished he'd been able to say to Lonigro. "Dad, he's different. He feels things differently. Please, try to understand. I did some checking into that group. It helps families with problems. Please, can we..."
"Janice," John interrupted softly. "This isn't any of your business and I'm not going to discuss my private life with a bunch of strangers. Now go back to bed and things will look better in the morning." He pushed Sam gently out of the room and across the hall. Sam heard the door lock when it was closed and began pulling on the handle.
"Dad! Let me out! Please." The last was almost a whisper. Sam sank to the floor, not even looking up when Al walked through the door. "Please don't do this. I'm doing the best I can." Al started at the words; the same one that Sam had mumbled in his sleep. He knelt down at his friend's side, wishing he could take him in his arms and sooth away the pain.
"Come on, kid. It's okay." Al was worried and visibly shaking. "Gooshie, get Bena in here, NOW!" He turned back to Sam. "Come on, Sam. Answer me."
"I'm doing my best, Professor. Honest. I know it'll work." Sam's voice seemed younger to Al. Al looked up and nodded after a few minutes.
"Sam, where are you?" Al asked anxiously, dreading the answer.
"The Berkshire's, Professor. You know that." Sam's voice was small and scared.
"You were right, Bena," he whispered. "Sam, you're not in the Berkshire's. You're in Leeper, Pennsylvania. You're traveling in time, Sam. You did prove your theories. You prove that bastard wrong a long time ago."
Tear stained hazel eyes moved up to contact concerned brown ones. "Al?" Sam rubbed the back of his hand over his nose. "What happened?"
"Things got a little too close to home, Sammy. You're going to be okay." Al pulled out the handlink and turned it on. "Now all you have to do is..." He glanced at the readout. "Is get out of here now and get over to Mark's room. He's going to take those pills now." Al dashed through the door.
Sam could hear him yelling at Mark not to take the pills. Sam backed up as much as he could, put his shoulder down and rushed the door. The frame gave way with little effort and he crashed across the hall into the other room. Mark was just about to put a handful of pills in his mouth when Sam slammed into him. Both ended up in a heap on the floor. Sam hit Mark's hand as he tried to take the pills even while struggling with Sam.
"Oh, no you don't," Sam growled at him. "I'm not going to let you kill yourself." Sam grabbed the pills and scattered them over the room. "You do that and you prove Dad right." Both were breathing hard when Sam finally let Mark go. "You going to do that again?"
"Maybe," as the short answer. "No one would care if I did."
"Wrong. I'd care, you idiot." Sam turned his head to look at Mark. "And dad would care, too, even if he doesn't show it now. He does love you. And he thinks he's doing the right thing." Mark snorted. "That's why I suggested that group. They'd be able to help him, and us."
"Us?"
"We get hurt by what Dad's going through, too, you know." Sam glanced at Al. "You need people who really care about you, telling you that you're okay, to be able to get through this kind of abuse."
Al glanced at Sam, smiled slightly, and then glanced over at Mark and the quicksilver change of emotions on his face. "I think you're getting through to him, Sam. Why don't you tell him about a certain kid genius that you know? Might help both of you. And you're welcome." Al looked up. "Stuff it, Dr. Beeks. I think it will help."
Sam smiled back at the older man, remembering his support when he finally told him about Lonigro and then back at the younger one sitting next to him and decided to take Al's advice. "Mark, I heard about this person. He was the youngest ever to go to MIT. Only 16. He was already working on his third doctorate when he met a professor who had roughly the same ideas he had. The two of them became friends, of a sort, and worked constantly together, trying to perfect this theory that they shared. Problem was, the kid soon outpaced his professor and then the problems started. The professor would treat the kid differently. Oh, they still worked together, but he would put him down, privately, and support him publicly. Called him an idiotic dreamer. A crackpot. Did everything but physically hit him."
Sam stopped, remembering all the abuse that had been heaped on him and how much of it he had believed until he'd finally had the courage to tell someone. How Lonigro had cut apart what he had felt was a crucial part of his time travel theory and the angst that he had felt when this person he'd admired didn't believe in him. Al had dragged him down to Verbena's office five seconds after Sam had told him everything. It had been months before he felt that he'd gotten all the grief out of his system.
Mark looked thoughtful. "So who is this _wunderkind_?" he asked finally.
"Wait right here." Sam rushed into the living room and picked up a magazine he'd noticed earlier and brought it back into Mark's room. "This is him," he said, handing the magazine to Mark, smiling. Sam had always hated that photo but this time it was doing some good. Mark was carefully looking at the cover of Time Magazine and the picture of a person that they were calling the next Einstein.
"Dr. Beckett was really treated like that? Is that in the article?" Mark asked beginning to leaf through the pages. He looked a bit skeptical.
"Nope, I just heard about it. He didn't want it to be general knowledge, to keep the professor's reputation in tact. Perhaps he should. Might do some good for others, like you." In his mind, Sam promised himself that he would do just that when he finally got home. It would be good therapy for him and it might encourage children who were in the Sam situation come forward. He looked at Al, eyes a little glassy. A question was there as well.
"It worked, Sam. Mark ends up doing a lot of good, after he and Janice, and eventually John as well, get some therapy. He uses a football scholarship he got to get a medical degree. He doesn't do anything major, just helps a lot of people, especially abused children." Al looked up form the handlink and smiled at Sam, who was now sitting on the bed. "Good job, Sam."
"So, what are you going to do now?" Sam asked Mark. "Going to run back to those pills?"
"Nope," Mark said. I'm going to go with my little sister to that group she told me about and see about getting a little help. That is, if you'll go with me?" Sam nodded and smiled at Mark. The last thing he saw as the quantum fire carried him off to his next assignment was Mark's answering smile.