Chapter 14 by C. Selene McBain and Kat Freymuth
The surgery, for all intents and purposes, was successful. There were, however, unforeseen complications. They were terribly frightening, to the Admiral but mostly to his niece. The first time he woke up, he couldn't move his arms. The worst was assumed, that Al had lost use of his arms as well. Hysterical with rage, Carlie had to be removed from the room. Then it was Al's turn to be rageful.
The interns, doctors and surgeons couldn't explain the complication. Other than it was assumed that the infection had set in higher than expected. Though rehabilitation allowed Al to regain some use, his paralysis was still higher than what he was used to. He had to learn how to balance all over again.
Beth, in the meantime, reported to her station. Her new position was actually intended to be Project Quantum Leap, explaining why she was in New Mexico and why she contacted Al. It was a surprise to see his name on her contact regiment upon arrival to the desert, and she nearly reconsidered the position. Seeing that Al was in need of medical attention, and having had the chance to catch up with her estranged husband, she stayed.
While Al went through rehabilitation for the second time in his life, it was necessary to hook a temporary Observer to Ziggy. Al could just imagine what kind of concern Sam was feeling for him. He desperately wanted to get back to his normal job - if you could call observing for a time traveling physicist normal. It was several weeks before Al returned to Quantum Leap.
"What have we got, Gooshie?" Al asked as he entered the Control Room, ready to get on with his life. Okay, so it was harder to get around but he still managed to be able to do it without assistance and without a motorized wheelchair. He just wished that his hands wouldn't go numb on him every once in a while.
The nervous little programmer looked up from the various blinking lights of the console, startled to hear the Admiral's gruff voice. He hadn't really prepared a report for him, but spit out a briefing, "It's really rather remarkable! He's leaped twice since you were away. I managed to assist with those assignments," he added proudly. Gaining a scowl from the older man, he stumbled to continue, "He seems to be leaping closer."
"So... where is he now?" Al asked with a frown. He wasn't much in the mood to pull information out of Gooshie or Ziggy as if he were pulling teeth from a dragon's mouth.
"May 13th, 1996," said Gooshie, "He's in a suburb in Southern California. He's a teenager." The halitosis-plagued man timidly turned his gaze to the Admiral, "Should I charge a handlink for you, sir?"
Al lowered his eyelids. "If you would," he said sarcastically. "I didn't come down here for a stroll."
Gooshe touched a code to the console, ejecting a fresh handlink and handing it to Al. "Don't you mean 'roll', sir?" he asked nervously.
Al snatched the handlink from Gooshie's hands, his scowl growing harsher. Semantics! He needed to check on Sam and Gooshie was talking semantics! "Just get me a lock on Sam. Now." His tone reflected his mood, which was disagreeable at the very least.
Al found Sam in the middle of a high school quad. All over the school yard, teenagers with varying degrees of raging hormones were indulging in lunch within small huddled groups. Sam, thankfully, leaped into a loner. Or maybe he ditched the host's friends to be alone. Either way, the physicist was glad to see his friend alive, even if there was an underlying sadness in his gaze on the wheelchair.
Sam quickly stuffed the sandwich he was in the middle of eating back into a brown bag. He the motioned for Al to follow him into the library, where they could talk in the back. Safe within the farthest bookshelves, Sam finally said, "I'm so glad to see you." It was a far cry from his usual 'Where the hell have you been?'
The angry mood Al was in melted away with Sam's words. "Missed me, huh?" he teased. "Figured I'd check and see how you were doing, give you the lowdown, et cetera, et cetera." Concentrating, he turned the handlink so that he could read it and punched a few buttons. As he did so, a small clique of girls walked by. Al's eyes followed.
Sam barely even noticed his friend's antics to down play his serious condition. The doctor's eyes were misting quickly. He knelt to be eye level with him to say, "I've been so worried, Al. They told me about what happened to you. I wish I could be there with you."
"Ah, crap," Al growled at Sam's words. "I tell them to keep you out of it and Gooshie spills the beans." He looked at Sam's concerned face. "I'm fine, Sam. Really. It's minor."
"No," Sam insisted quietly, remembering that he could be heard if he was too loud. His jaw was clenched as he tried to control his emotions. He was always more liberal in sharing his feelings than his older friend was. "No, it's not minor. It should have never happened. So many things should have never happened. You shouldn't have to be in that chair."
"We went over this, Sam. Enough. I don't want to hear another word. You understand? Let's just get through this leap." Al focused on the handlink, raising a hand to push a button and watched for a moment as it shook violently. Clasping it into a fist, he put it in his lap.
What could Sam do except stare in pity and guilt? It was nerve damage to the spinal cord, probably the infection he had been informed of. For all he knew, his friend could still die. There was little time to waste, even though he wished he could comfort his friend. "It's okay, Al," Sam said quietly, "It's 1996. End of the school year. The kid I leaped into, Brian McLaughlin, he's bright - but failing. All I need to do is pass his finals."
"But that would be cheating, Sam," Al pointed out to him. "Aren't you the one who's Mister Honest?" Using just one hand, he pressed a couple of buttons and frowned at what he was reading. "Actually, it looks like you're here for one of Brian's classmates, Rick Preston. He drops out of school and spends the rest of his life going from one job to another to another to another... kid has no focus whatsoever."
"Rick Preston," Sam thought for a moment, "I met a Rick today. In Political Science. Kid was talking up a storm about politics. Didn't seem very interested in the exam though. So I'm here for him?"
"Eighty-three point six-four-two-eight-three... yada yada yada," Al told him. "Ziggy's going into the fifty-second place or something." He closed his eyes for a moment. Damn nervous system!
Watching his friend made Sam anxious. He had to ask, "I thought you had surgery to make things better, not worse. What's going on?"
"You're asking the wrong guy, pal," Al told him bluntly. "It was supposed to make it better but..." Seeing the look on Sam's face, he sighed, licking his lips. Why is it that Sam could always see past his defenses? It didn't help that he wasn't hiding the problems very well. "They had to cut my spinal cord and they cut it as high as they could to stop the infection but... I'm getting worse, Sam. And if they go any higher, they might as well just cut off my head."
"Don't say that!" Sam said, a little too sharply. He gained the attention of the librarian. Sam grabbed a book and opened it just as she came over to investigate.
"Is there a problem here, young man?" she asked stiffly. Sam stumbled nervously, looking over the book he'd randomly opened.
"No, just - you know - reading. Overzealous sometimes," He lied, giving her a small smile. Suspicious but satisfied, she warned him to keep it quiet and left. Sam stuffed the book back into the shelf, glaring at Al.
"Hey, I'm not the one talking loudly in the library, Sam," Al told him with a mischievous grin.
Sam couldn't help it. His heart was too soft, and his best friend was in serious trouble. He sank down to his knees again, wishing he could just hold the hardened man before him . . . no matter how much the older one struggled.
"Al," Sam struggled to even speak, "I don't want you to die."
"Neither do I, Sam. I'm fighting this every step of the way. All that I'm saying is that they've done everything they can do for me when it comes to surgery. The rest is up to me and the local pharmacist. And the cute brunette up in the infirmary," he said with a grin.
Sam nodded, hanging his head for a moment to hide his expression of hurt. He tried to put on a braver, lighter face for his friend and barely succeeded. "I'll talk to Rick later. I think we have another class together. I can convince him to take the PolySci exam again. Or die trying..." The words left his mouth before he even thought of them. He fell silent.
"Political Science," Al murmured with a hint of disgust. "Politicians and science don't mix," he stated emphatically. Seeing the look on Sam's face, he sighed. "Okay, if you don't stop with the sad puppy dog eyes, I'm going to personally leap back here and slap you silly."
The good doctor took a deep breath, smirking slightly and nodding. "I'll keep that in mind. You go back and get some rest. It's an easy leap, Al. Don't worry about me, okay?"
Al was silent for a long moment. "I'll stop worrying when you come back home," he told him plainly before turning and rolling out of the Imaging Chamber. The moment he was out, he gasped and swallowed, allowing some of the pain he was in to finally escape. It didn't make sense! The surgery was supposed to help him, not make him worse!
Two pairs of hands rushed over to him before he was even aware of who approached. Verbina was on one side of him, checking his pulse immediately. Beth was on the other side, who took his hand.
"How are you holding up, Al?" she asked.
As tempting as it was to lie to her, Al knew that Beth would be able to see right through his lies. If anything, she was more perceptive than Sam when it came to weeding out the proverbial bullcrap. "I'm in pain, I can't feel my arms, and I'm scared shitless," he told her bluntly. "How are you holding up?"
"I'd be a lot better if I had you in bed," Before she gave him the chance to jump on the comment, she added, "to recover." With a silent nod from Beth, Verbina left them to speak privately. Beth bent down to be eye level with Al. "I know you're scared, honey. You know that I'll be right here with you if you need anything. Head of the medical staff, remember?"
Al gave her a small smile before nodding. "Okay," he whispered. A moment later, he winced hard, unable to keep tears from trickling down his cheeks. "Get me in a bed and on something for the pain and I'll consider giving you a raise."
Quick judgment suggested she moved now. She pushed the ailing Admiral out of the Control Room and back to his quarters. "Thanks, but that won't be necessary." After getting him into his bed, he seemed to relax a little more. This time, Beth was the one that was tense. She said nothing, sitting next to him and checking his heart rate before fingering his short curls.
Even though the pain lessened, the lack of feeling in his arms didn't. That, in itself, told him what he'd been fighting against since he got back from the hospital. He couldn't deny it anymore. "I'm going to die, Beth," he whispered, swallowing."They've already done everything they can for me and... God, I don't want to leave her alone. She's too young still. I don't want to lose you. I just got you back."
"Don't talk like that, honey," Beth barely managed to speak. The words were hard to hear. The truth was hard to hear. All the strength she had, the confidence of a doctor and Naval Captain, was thrown out the window. She crumbled into tears. "Don't talk like that." It was overpowering, the grief. Beth slowly sank down to lay next to Al, holding him gently and stroking his hair. "I won't let you die. I won't."
Al closed his eyes, feeling her hand in his hair. "I don't think either of us have a choice on this one, honey," he told her somberly. "I can't win this one. I've tried and..." He stopped when he heard her shushing him. He turned his head and tucked it under her chin. "Promise me?" he asked gently.
Beth pressed her face into his shoulder, trying to calm her sobbing. "No," she said, her heart torn open in anguish, "No, I won't promise you anything. I can't. Don't make me promise you something that I don't want to promise. Oh, god, please . . ."
"Beth..." he said gently. "I need to say these things while I can. I need your promises while I'm still here. I'm not leaving yet but... it's going to happen. Now, promise me," he pressed gently. "Don't argue with me. I'm too damned tired for that."
"Fine, okay," she swallowed, taking a deep breath and pulling back just enough to look Al in the eyes. His eyes were always so beautiful, so pure and true. The thought of them closing forever was beyond the capacities of her heart, and it broke. "What do I promise?"
"That you'll watch after Carlie," he told her. "She's going to be alone, Beth. She needs someone to take care of her. Promise?"
There were legal matters to get into, issues that go beyond the simple call of love. Beth thought, and struggled with the thought. Her mind was quick, and her eyes darted as she tried desperately to focus on a way to truthfully carryout the important promise. She took a breath, bracing herself. It was the only way. "Marry me," she said.
Al smiled widely at her words. He knew the logical reasons for her question. But what he saw in her eyes told him that this was more than logistics at work. "Tell you what. You go get the judge and I'll tell Carlie the news before I take a nap."
With mixed feelings of love and sorrow, Beth agreed to make the arrangements. "How are your arms doing?" She asked before she left the Admiral alone, "Can you reach the phone?"
"They're better," he assured her. When she looked at him with questioning, he carefully moved his right arm and grasped the receiver. "See? Now, who am I calling?"
"Me. In case you need me." She bent down towards him. His eyes were so soft, despite how hard the years have made the man. His eyes could melt away fear with his gentleness. She smiled, and kissed him.
He relished her kiss with a genuine smile. "I love you. Now..." He looked up to the ceiling. "Ziggy, where's Carlie?" He knew she couldn't get into any of the key areas of the complex nor could she leave the complex without Ziggy being aware of it. Being a teenager, there were very few places she could go to keep entertained. She seemed to prefer the small library that Al insisted upon - 'for the sake of sanity' - but he'd also found her in the cafeteria or in the gym.
Ziggy answered with her usual dry and sardonic tone, "Miss Calavicci is currently located in the library, Admiral."
"Should I go get her?" Beth asked.
Al raised his eyebrows at Ziggy's words. But before he could say anything, Beth asked her question. "Umm... yeah. If you would," he replied to the question, gaining a kiss from the woman he loved. Waiting until she had left the quarters, he frowned towards the ceiling. "Ziggy, why did you refer to Carlie as 'Miss Calavicci'? Her last name is Amorello."
Ziggy sounded bored. "Her official documents list her as Carlene Isabella Amorello, mother Catherine Lee Amorello, murdered by father Vincent Douglas Amorello. . . Miss Calavicci's Quantum Leap security clearance currently lists her as Carlene Isabella Calavicci."
For a long moment, what Ziggy told him didn't make any sense. How could her clearance for Quantum Leap have a different last name than her official documents? And then... it made all the sense in the world. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry so he did both. "Thanks, Zig," he whispered. Then laying back, he waited for the teenager who was causing his current well-received emotional state.
Quietly, Carlie came into the Calavicci quarters alone. One couldn't tell what she was feeling by looking at her. She masked her emotions far too well for too long, and that moment was no different. Things were happening to her all over again, and she knew she was going to lose someone very special, very soon.
Timidly, she approached Al on the bed. "Hey," she said quietly.
"Hey," Al replied with a smile, wiping away the last of his tears. "I came across an interesting error in our databanks," he started. "Seems Ziggy has your last name listed wrong." His grin widened at her look.
"Nope," Carlie denied immediately, settling onto the bed and nesting next to her uncle, "Not true. My birth certificate has it wrong. But who can expect the United States bureaucracy to get it right anyway?"
Al reached up and rubbed her back gently, slowly. "Well, we're just going to have to fix that little error of theirs as soon as possible. Can't have official documents having your name all wrong."
"Seriously," Carlie agreed. But she knew the conversation couldn't stay this light for long. She didn't have the pleasure of being a young child, naive and ignorant of the sorrow that filled the air. Teenagers understood pain, probably better than when they turn into adults. Life is pain, she thought to herself.
"You're dying," She finally whispered.
Al exhaled slowly and then swallowed. "Yes, I am," he told her gently, wishing he didn't have to say those words. But he wasn't going to deny the inevitable. He'd fight it all the way to the very end but he knew that this was one battle he wasn't going to win. But at least he'd be going out with a fight. Almost as if changing the subject, he looked at her. "How do you feel about Beth?"
For a moment, Carlie said nothing. She finally admitted, "She's alright, I guess." She pressed face a little harder into Al's shoulder, rubbing her face on his sleeve to wipe away her tears.
"Just all right?" he asked gently, carefully putting a hand on her head. "Do you think she could possibly... be your aunt?"
It was a tough decision for her. Probably one she wasn't ready for. Bitterly she replied, "So that she can die too?" She pulled away from him, kneeling on the bed and looking away from his face. "You're gonna die. And then I get dumped with her, and she's gonna die. Just like my nana died, and my mom . . ." She struggled away from him, hysteria slowly setting in and standing her ground.
"I hate them for dying." She cried, "I hate you for dying."
Al turned his head away from her, his heart aching. What was he supposed to tell her? That he was sorry? It's not like he wanted this! That everything would be all right? How should he know when he wasn't going to be around to be there for her? As for her comment about getting dumped with Beth... and about Beth dying too... "Do you think I want this to happen?" he whispered tightly. "I'm fighting this every step of the way." He closed his eyes, biting his lip. "All I want is for you to be taken care of. For someone to be there for you. To love you... as much as I love you."
"Why can't it be you?" She sobbed, her eyes clutched closed in her agony, "You should do it. You should take care of me. No one else . . . Just you! Why can't it be you?" And she fell into him, sobbing on his chest and grasping the fabric of his shirt.
"I keep asking the same questions," he murmured, brushing her hair slowly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me." He didn't wipe away the tears, swallowing tightly. "Someone else will have to take care of you, baby. Beth loves you. For me... nothing is more important than for you to be cared for. I'm sorry it can't be me to take care of you."
Her breath trembled. "It's not fair. It's not."
"You're right. It's not fair. But it's what we have to work with." Taking another breath, he let it out slowly, exhausted from his sorrow. "I'm sorry." He didn't know why he couldn't stop saying those words. He knew they weren't going to help but he didn't know what else to say.
Crying took a lot of energy. By the end of the crying, Carlie was exhausted. She fell asleep after a while, her head still on Al's chest, comforted by his heartbeat. If the circumstances wouldn't let her have love, she would relish all that she could get.